I like the storyline of this show,it attract me so much

Absolutely Fantastic

Good films always raise compelling questions, whether the format is fiction or documentary fact.

It's an amazing and heartbreaking story.

Interesting, intriguing drama. On the surface a police-vs-terrorists/revolutionaries thriller, but it is much more than that. Emotional, human drama too.Good performances by Javier Bardem and Laura Morante in the lead roles.Only big negative is with the production quality - sound level is quite low.

This is John Malkovich's first feature length film as a director (he did a short). In fact, it is his only film as a director, and one wonders why, as it is clearly a great effort. Like Javier Bardem (Before Night Falls, No Country for Old Men), who stars in the film, the slow, almost monotonous tone of Malkovich is seen throughout. Perfect for the story being told.The film is a complex political mystery story based on the hunt for Abimael Guzmán, the founder of Perú's Sendero Luminoso (Shining Path), in the 1980s.Bardem never seems to change expression, whether he is hunting a terrorist, or romancing his daughter4's ballet teacher. He is pursuing something both times. He does that in his slow, manner method. Even when presented with the fact that illusions are just that, he keeps hoping and trying until he realizes that it will only be through his daughter's dance that he can have the teacher.If there is anything to criticize in the film, it is the teacher, Laura Morante's (The Empire of Wolves) complete lack of political interest or emotion. I suspect that may be Malkovich's doing, as he is not of the proper political thought to be making this type of movie.One could certainly understand Bardem's passion for something more meaningful in a relationship once meeting his wife, Alexandra Lencastre, who cared for nothing but looking better.An excellent performance by Bardem.

John Malkovich's directorial debut casts Javier Bardem as Agustin Rejas, a cop in an unidentified South American country trying to find members of a revolutionary movement (which seems to have been based on the Shining Path). More than simply a good-cop-versus-bad-guys story, "The Dancer Upstairs" shows how Rejas understands his job, but has to deal with corruption, intrigue, and other things. One might say that Rejas sort of becomes as revolutionary as the people whom he's seeking, given how he comes to question the legitimacy of everyone and everything around him. Or maybe I'm going too far in analyzing this movie. It's worth seeing, if only once. Also starring Juan Diego Botto and Laura Morante.

John Malkovich's directorial debut is this deeply lyrical character study of a morally upright cop (Javier Bardem) trying to make sense of an inexplicably violent world. As played by Bardem, Augustin's face registers a near-constant state of moral warfare—redolent of Benicio Del Toro's work in Traffic—even as wry grimaces betray the absurdity of his situation. In an unnamed Latin American capital, asphyxiated dogs hang from light poles, placards featuring baleful epigrams written in blood drooping from their necks. It is the calling card of mysterious revolutionary leader Ezequiel, whose seemingly limitless queue of self-effacing disciples—including suicide-bomber children and machine gun-wielding Catholic schoolgirls—uncomfortably echoes radical groups in the Middle East and many points between. But what raises this film above topical exploitation is the provocative decision by screenwriter Nicholas Shakespeare—who also wrote the novel—and John Malkovich to disregard American foreign policy completely (not even a mention of the UN) and to only address the story in localized terms. Perhaps it is specious of me to assume the U.S. would jump into such a hotbed environment of interior social discord, but judging from its parallels with Haiti, both the location here and the situation—revolutionaries rebel against an elected (an appointed?) president—seem eerily ripe for external overhaul.The film's perspective of self-reliance is illustrated in Augustin's decision to bring Ezequiel down without reporting to the president—a breach of etiquette that circumvents state-appointed justice and speaks to a desire for a unilateral democracy empowered by the people. This idea of unilateral democracy is fresh in its refusal to blame anyone—including the shadowy, nominally communist radicals who kill with startling stealth and brutality—for the problems of the world. Shakespeare and Malkovich's idealism in this regard is tremendously heartening: The assumption that countries not only take pride in resolving their own conflicts given the chance—and not without significant losses, as an early montage illustrates in gruesome detail—but desperately need to, lest they remain fledgling nonentities into the foreseeable future, strikes me as a very reasonable progressive idea. Anyway, breaking away from the soapbox, it is clear in those penultimate scenes that Bardem faces a unique existential crisis—what is the price of selling out? And the last shot, punctuated by the strains of a probing Nina Simone ballad, is the work of a seasoned humanist.