Nonureva Really Surprised!

Afouotos Although it has its amusing moments, in eneral the plot does not convince.

BelSports This is a coming of age storyline that you've seen in one form or another for decades. It takes a truly unique voice to make yet another one worth watching.

Guillelmina The film's masterful storytelling did its job. The message was clear. No need to overdo.

chaos-rampant We kind of expect our artists to be haunted by demons, it is in tacit understanding that in their art we'll find the template to overcome ours. That, in visiting the dark place which is shared among all of us, we can defer to them for guidance, for the light that dissolves the shadows.Here we have the personal memoirs of one such artist. We see the demons, the hurt and anger generated by repressed homosexuality or a suffocating religion without answers. But they're up on the screen whole as dragged from the bitterest place, to be vexed than overcome. The manner is petulant, childish. Of course I agree with Davies for example about the obsolete, useless monarchy sucking the blood of the people, but how am I for the better by listening to his obvious, venomous attack upon it? I can get that in every forum online pending the royal wedding, from casual talk on the street.And what am I to make of the boy's dismay at the silence of god? Which the boy now not-quite grown up, perceives as indictment and completely ignores what comfort he was offered at the time by prayer. Surely, life is more complex than this.When by the end of this we get the realization of what matters, a life lived in the present without hope or love, it rings hollow because it hasn't been embodied in the work itself, which is riddled with an old man's angst.And this is not all of it. The elegy to the city and the time that shuffled it is too tricly, oh-so-sombre, so filled with yearnings. What emotion is here is so obvious, that Malick appears subtle by comparison to it. So easily, quickly digestible that in trying to sate so much, to gorge in it, it doesn't sate at all.What little of this works is the symphony of the city. The kind of film they were making in 1920's Berlin or Moscow to eulogize the booming architecture. With the twist that here, it is the uniquely British genius and propensity for creating a dismal urban landscape that appeals. The drab, grey routine. But I'd rather get this from The Singing Detective, which weaves it into a multifaceted story than a simple nostalgia. Or get the same experience Davies wants for his films from Zerkalo.I suspect this will fare better for the people who share his vexations with religion and society, and who can relax in them. Me, I can't relax in anything without consideration for what the images and voices in it mean. With movies that transport, I'm always interested in the place they transport to. This is not one of those places.

Malcolm Parker This film is a subjective essay, and if you like the Church, the Pope, and the Queen and enjoy a stereotypical view of a green and pleasant post-war Britain, then it probably isn't for you. The realities of slum terraces and the tenement blocks that replaced them are here refreshingly and honestly celebrated by someone with the wit and wisdom to look beneath the usual, superficial glazing of nostalgia that makes some people think that we're living in a Britain now that is broken in comparison to the good old days. The truth is exposed time and time again through these images, and the accompanying words and music. It covers the period from the time when polishing the doorstep was a back-breaking social necessity, up to the 1980's by which time the poor in Britain's cities were expunged of any remaining dregs of social interaction and when the new tenements - built to replace the slums - were already falling into slums themselves. In focusing on one city, and one set of memories, the film successfully captures an essence of place that goes beyond Liverpool. Its subheading is "a love song and a eulogy", but this simply conveys the way in which this film evokes emotion. In truth, this 'visual symphony of rhythmic images' is nothing less than a stunning work of art.

greenwood-3 Sorry, couldn't appreciate it. I'm originally from St. Petersburg, Russia, but my husband grew up in Manchester (in the 50s and 60s), and I do like both the old and new bits of his home city. It's mainly the author's personality that happened to irritate me the most - I found him too pretentious (starting from that theatre curtain episode in the beginning) and felt like he had made this film basically for himself. It was too lengthy, there were many repetitive shots and arie all over the place (drowning the little girls' song which I actually wanted to hear). Rationally, I'm taking Davies's point but emotionally, I couldn't wait till the film was over. Talking about life experience similar to Davies's, I much prefer the late Dutch writer Gerard Reve.

Redcitykev On BBC TV there is a regular half-hour programme called 'Grumpy Old Men', on which the likes of Arthur Smith, Noddy Holder, and others - within the 45-60+ group - let rip about the state of modern society and, usually, how it was so much better in their days. After watching this diatribe from Mr Davis it would not surprise me to see him turning up on a later series of the programme due to the fact that this film, poetic as it may have been, came across as no better than a glorified 76 minute version of it.This is not to say that the film does not have its moments, because it most certainly does. When he is riling against the British Monachy, or religion - the Catholic church in particular, the film comes alive even if you disagree with what he is saying, maybe even finding it offensive. But the trouble with the film is that these moments are few and far between, and too much time is taken up with dull, pointless views of dull, pointless buildings, often making blindingly obvious points that have been many times before (yes, we know the high-rise homes very quickly disintegrated into slums that were no better, and often worse, then those back-to-back terrace houses they replaced).When it came to the people of Liverpool the shots he included again seemed to be those we have seen 100's of times before on other, better, documentaries about the city. Kiddies playing in the streets, playgrounds full of swings and slides etc, etc... yes, yes, we know it was all so much better then - apart from the increased infant deaths, illnesses caused by poverty and poor diet etc! Then comes the music! How can Mr Davis dismiss the Beatles and the whole of the Mersey sound in just a few fleeting moments, and pretty damning moments as well. Does he not realise that these pop/rock groups, along with Liverpool and Everton FC's, did more to put the city of Liverpool on the map, rising its profile across the globe and helping it to recover its pride and place in the world following on from the collapse of its traditional industries than any other thing? The legacy of that period is still felt today, be it in the eternal popularity of the Beatles and other groups from the 1960's, the modern classical stylings of Sir Paul McCartney, McCartney's legacy to the city in LIPA, or the recent pop and rock sounds of such groups as The Zutons etc, and this is something that Mr Davis should have acknowledged in this film.Before watching this film I had viewed the new Clint Eastwood film 'Changeling', which has a running time of some 2 1/2 hours, yet that film seemed to last about half that time, whilst this film runs for just over 76 minutes and yet seemed much, much longer. Mr Davis is a very talented film maker, as films like 'The Long Day Closes' have shown, and surely it was not beyond his fierce-some intellect to create a fictional film in which his sentiments could have been expressed in a much more entertaining way. Maybe now he has got all this off his chest he will get back to doing what he does best and give us a film worthy of his talents next time round.