And in less than a year, a kind of continuation of `` Mom '' was released on the screens – now they are being wished for the New Year in the family comedy Happy New Year, Mom! You can consider the topic too scrupulous, and the producers – cunning grabbers who have found, if not a gold mine, then at least a small mine. You can say that the appeal to maternal instincts and childish feelings in the pursuit of profit – it is vile, low, disgusting and so on. You can shake the ashes on the heads of the creators in the hope of repentance of the latter. But it's better to relax, tune in, take your mother in an armful, and go with her to the cinema in order to see firsthand that `` they know how, if they want, to shoot '' (as my mother said).
The only truly significant drawback of this almanac is – it is a contrast, even an invisible opposition between one, the strongest novel, and all the others. Yes, the style, on the whole, this time is sustained better – everything happens in one, so to speak, `` tonality ''. But one story is too abruptly knocked out -; even cut into a short movie and play it in a separate room. And now you want to see a real New Year's miracle? This novel was movieed by … Sarik Andreasyan (fanfare)! Yes, the same one who is the pregnant Armenian Carloson, living with office romances! Let me make a small lyrical digression.
This is really a miracle, because after such a reluctance you will begin to believe not only in Santa Claus and his blood relationship with Santa, but in all fabulous-mythological pantheons at once and the incorruptibility of USA officials at the same time. You begin to understand that in the New Year everything is really possible - and ndash; and waiting on the eve of the next holiday for a masterpiece from Uwe Boll ceases to be something from the category of deviations and mental disorders.
Honestly, I personally can't explain it. How is this director – the main contender for the title of the killer of the domestic cinema in the super heavyweight – managed to put such a simple, and therefore even more emotional and powerful story. After all, even one script alone will not be able to write off everything – one script is not enough, especially in cases where such, ahem, original director is involved. Moreover, he himself is one of the scriptwriters. With option " Well this is a short movie, a different format, practically a different genre " also not all right – less than a year ago in Mammy he, to put it mildly, did not shine. And I don't want to believe in the idea that he was only involved in producing, while other people did other work for him. I don't want to, that's all.
In general, my soul has become so warm that I sincerely wish him creative success. And fewer burdocks – let him move on to more serious cinema. He seems to be doing it better.
In the meantime, let's get back to the short stories, sorry my lyrical digression, which nevertheless became big. About Paris, in fact, is terribly predictable and ingenuous. Everything becomes clear from the very first scene. But this is one of those cases where the form determines the content, and not vice versa, and does it professionally and with a sense of tact. The story of the fulfillment of the most cherished dream of a mother with the hands of her son is undoubtedly the most beautiful in the entire almanac, and even the story with Bezrukov from the previous movie is lost against its background. And the ending is able to make even the most callous and impenetrable spectator feel deeply. My mom really liked it, and Pavel Volya surprised her in the most pleasant way – as, indeed, myself.
That's what my mom didn't like, just like me (her tastes very often coincide with her, upbringing, sir), or, better to say, she liked it least of all else, it was `` Cellist '' with his attempts to deceive his mother, which, in the end, led to natural remorse and a happy ending. The ridiculous hero of Viktor Vasiliev, who from friends – faithful Kharlamov – Depends more than on one's own abilities, does not evoke sympathy in any way, and in general, with no less success, it could be a short story about friendship. But Tatyana Vasilyeva redeems everything, so `` My son – angel " – words that every self-respecting mother will put into her mouth at the first opportunity – not only with humor, but also with feeling this story ends, albeit in the bosom of another short story.
Equally touching can be called Ekaterina Klimova's daughter-mother game and Maxim Matveev's lucky numbers. The first – a way back, a novel of memories and a difficult life path for the sake of a child who becomes difficult to devote time to. Mothers can remember life, remember youth, remember their way of life, and their children – especially adults – will receive not the most visual, but an effective guide to achieving goals. And maybe they will even conjure up memories of what is just about to happen. The second, however, is more about dad, while mom in him performs the function of, let's say, a catalyst for action. While the father, bursting with hope, is looking for an unknown child, the image of the mother only resides in the head of the latter, and strongly `` off-screen. '' However, this does not interfere with rooting for the protagonist, who, for the sake of happiness, – both personal and children's – ready, maybe not for everything, but at night to blow up to the other end of the city – exactly.
The War of the Mothers is extremely strange. A short story, the scope of which does not at all correspond to its role in the general outline. Solemn preparations, a competition, two opposing families, two ex-girlfriends leading their daughters in their footsteps, and finally, overly smart (especially in my mother's opinion) girls – all of this, judging by the dimensions, should have been a locomotive. But it turned out only a background – a sideline that you just want to skip as soon as possible. How did it happen – a question for a separate discussion, but the very impression that this story leaves behind is completely inappropriate to its scale.
It remains only to wait for the next movie – now about Mother's Day, probably, and maybe about the day of the Airborne Forces. Not the point. The main thing – what about loved ones and the only ones, no matter how trite it may sound, but after all, the whole truth is – in simplicity. Yes, one more collection definitely will not hurt – and one more, and another, and another … Mom can't get too much. And with such and such a tendency! Who said that you cannot enter the same river three times? In a word, we are waiting for you, mothers, come back – you are always the most welcome guests.
And the second: Roman Volokhov
The Topic of Article: Review of the movie Happy New Year, Mom !. A little about the main thing.
Author: Jake Pinkman |
