Q: "Read My Lips" tells of a strange symbiosis which develops between a plain, socially maladroit female office worker (Devos) and her workplace trainee, a crude excon (Casel). As the film fleshes out this unlikely duo down to their ids they become embroiled in a chilling merging of the minds, each using the other for their own selfish reasons with an extraordinary outcome. Good stuff for anyone into character-driven films with strong psychodramatic undercurrents. In French with easy to read subtitles and good translation. (B+)
A: positive
Q: I saw this film prior to joining the British Army. I went through my basic training, at first difficult and then as I progressed much easier. My time was spent during the height of the troubles in NI and the cold war. There was times when I questioned myself on what I had gotten myself into, not for long, as the training would always take over and you would always react instinctively. The voice over used to display what the soldiers are thinking is spot on, though I would have added breathing and heart rate as this seems to pound in your ear drums in given situations. Some years later I was in Canada for a family get together. An Aunty of mine who lives in the USA and is a lecturer at the Columbus Uni Ohio had done a paper on the effects of the British Army in NI. She spent some time out there researching. Although an ex pat she was very anti-British. She made a bee line for me and condemned me for being a British soldier. My only answer was see the film 'A long day's dying'. It's the closest a civilian will get to realise why a soldier does what he does. The answer is right at the end.
A: positive
Q: I was intrigued by the title, so during a small bout of insomnia (fueled by my curiosity...), I stayed up and watched it. I then checked my TV listings and watched it again! There is one very obvious realization that occurred to me when I saw this film- in spite of politics, traditions, culture, etc., teenagers everywhere are virtually the same. The characters of the kids from Belgrade could have been transported to, let's say, somewhere in the American Midwest during the same time period, and language differences aside, would be impossible to tell apart from any of the local teens of that era. They certainly displayed the same growing pains and preoccupations, politics aside: Music, sex, movie idols, music, drinking, sports, music... As a matter of fact, much the same things that occupied my time growing up in 1970's Southern California.

This was a bittersweet story, but the joy of youth made it very enjoyable. The characters, especially the young actors, were completely believable also. I won't say this was the Yugoslav "American Graffiti", but I will say that it fits in nicely with other 50's-themed movies.
A: positive
Q: Like many people here, I started out finding my patience being tried by this film. By the end, I actually shed a few tears.

It seems to be in the nature of most old films to drag for 7/8th length and then catch fire right at the end. Older film-goers learned to bide their time patiently through the slow parts, calm in the knowledge that the big payoff is on the way. But that isn't quite accurate. You see, to earlier audiences, what are to us the "slow parts" were the main body of the story. They watched and found anecdotal and thematic interest there. Modern audiences, post-Spielberg, are in a constant state of waiting to be hit with a small climax every two minutes when they see older films. It's the inflation problem of modern movies. Well, that isn't going to happen. It is not necessary to apologize for these films; it is simply that you have to adjust your expectations and personal rhythm when you watch them. At this point, the difference between Avatar and The Informer is like the difference between Euripides and a traveling production of Rent. Think about it for a minute or two. Not to strain at the obvious, but Euripides still deserves a hearing.

The "exciting part", for most modern viewers, begins with the IRA tribunal scene and escalates to the final couple of minutes, which, if you are at all on board or even paying attention by that time, will tear your heart out. It's not some high-tone universal abstract plea for forgiveness; it's a plea from one dimwit, and those who feel sorry for the big lummox, for a little mercy. It's that personal, and that embarrassingly naked an appeal. For after being mad at Gypo, irritated at him, thinking this is the dumbest character of all time, you finally find yourself won over by the scene of Gypo's erstwhile girlfriend pleading to another woman to talk her man into going easy him.

The film may be sentimental, but the sentimentality is not cheap as some here have charged. There's a matter of life and death that plays out here, and as long as you take the proposition of one life to a customer seriously, it's sentimentality wrung out of the most serious stuff.

8 of 10. And the fault for it not being 10 of 10 is my own and in some measure yours, if you are reading this. We have all asked for more, ever more, faster, ever faster until we cannot put ourselves in 1935 -- just yesterday, really -- as easily as we should be able.
A: positive