Reviews

What begins as a detective mystery soon morphs into a political thriller. The first act is somewhat slow, but the suspense gradually builds, and the action scenes later in the film are impressive. At its core, the film explores the brutal reality of how wars are manufactured in the developing world for profit.

While many elements now feel dated—from the production design to the visual effects—there’s still a compelling core to the story. The alien menace turns out to be a projection of human fear and prejudices, which gives the film a layer of psychological depth that transcends its era.

More than six decades later, it’s easy to feel frustrated by the film’s crude effects and sluggish pace. Its influence on the sci-fi genre may be significant, yet that doesn’t necessarily make it enjoyable today.

The film recounts the early 20th-century struggle for women’s suffrage in the U.S., centering on Alice Paul and Lucy Burns. It’s a fairly conventional historical drama, neither particularly dazzling nor poorly made. The complexities of the movement can’t be fully captured in one film, but it still honors the bravery and perseverance of the women who led the charge.

Watching the women’s courage was genuinely moving. When they sang together in prison, it wasn’t just a moment of solidarity—it was a historic moment. The 19th Amendment of August 26, 1920, granting American women the right to vote, marked a significant victory. Yet that moment wasn’t the end of the fight for equality. Even today, injustice persists, and the road to true fairness remains long.

The cinematography is the film’s standout feature. Many scenes are shot in fixed or medium-long tracking takes, resulting in some beautifully composed frames. Still, the narrative offers little that’s new—it’s another story of a powerless man facing injustice, even if it’s based on true events.

This is a bleak film, yet its realism is undeniable. The protagonist’s timid and conflicted personality feels painfully authentic—and it’s also one of the reasons why his life spirals into tragedy.

The suspense is expertly crafted in the first half, reminiscent of Hitchcock. The narrative keeps you guessing for a long time even after the credits roll, which is no small feat. Unfortunately, the finale doesn’t quite land and feels like a missed opportunity.

This is a gripping thriller that hooks you right from the start. A woman vanishes without explanation, and the mystery deepens as we realize she and her husband are just an ordinary couple, making her disappearance all the more baffling. That sense of disorientation is what keeps us so engaged.

Like Michel Franco’s debut "Daniel & Ana", this film again tackles the subject of sexual trauma. We’ve seen many films use youth violence to reflect deeper familial and societal dysfunction, but Franco’s cold, clinical aesthetic stands out. He captures disturbing acts of brutality with a starkness that makes them feel almost unbearable to watch.

"After Lucia" unfolds with static shots and an understated visual style, quietly chronicling a harrowing case of bullying. The film carries an oppressive, suffocating atmosphere throughout. Although the first half suffers from loose pacing, the second half finds its footing as it gradually reveals the true weight of the abuse.

The occasional bursts of electronic music—with its oddly structured rhythms and chaotic noise—may well reflect the protagonist’s adolescent confusion. Each time the music kicks in, I could feel the teenage contempt for how childish the world is.

Some scenes left me wondering what they were trying to say, but the film’s tender emotions allows the viewer to fully immerse in its world.

Part of the appeal lies in the fact that this was my first South American film, and it beautifully captures the region’s unique flora, climate, and character. The cinematography is especially noteworthy, with an evident fascination for horizontal lines—coastlines, waves, streaks of red across glass, and even the boundaries of walls.

Though the battle scenes are sparse, the film delivers a harrowing portrait of war's inhumanity. The mournful score adds weight to the film’s stark atmosphere and deepens its sense of sorrow and loss.

The concept is refreshing. There are no traditional zombie scenes—instead, the entire story unfolds in a radio booth. By relying on phone calls and off-screen chaos, the film cleverly taps into the audience’s imagination through sound alone.

Expanded from the 2010 short "I Don’t Want to Go Back Alone," this feature retains the original cast and basic structure, but adds new depth by including Leo’s parents and his teenage defiance. With these additions, the film shifts its focus from sexual awakening to a broader coming-of-age narrative.

Based on the autobiographical graphic novel by Power Paola, this black-and-white animated film traces the expansion—and eventual unraveling—of a family. It charts the evolution of each member’s path with quiet sensitivity, showing moments of love, conflict, and inevitable separation. It’s a tender, bittersweet contemplation on the passage of time.

A female-led gangster film that brings to mind "Thelma & Louise," yet surpasses it in narrative sophistication. It’s packed with twists, expertly timed tension, and consistently keeps the viewer hooked.

Visually, the film is stunning. From the grandeur of the family estate to the lush countryside of the South, every frame feels like a living painting. Hans Zimmer’s score adds a sweeping, almost mythic quality that complements the visuals beautifully.