Reviews

Another horror film rooted in negative emotions, yet it never fully decides whether it’s tackling anxiety or depression. The acting and dialogue come off as stiff, and while the second half shows some improvement, the concept remains muddled. Still, amidst all the mediocrity out there, it somehow manages to stand out.

With adorably silly characters and a humorous plot, this road crime comedy also explores the complexities of human nature, delivering a truly unique experience. As one of Steven Spielberg’s early works, The Sugarland Express already showcases his signature style: the heart of a fairy tale, a well-structured narrative, and a gradual build-up of emotions. It's utterly charming.

Steven Spielberg’s take on the road movie—his second feature film—is based on a true story and carries a distinct Bonnie and Clyde vibe. I initially expected an action film, but the movie surprisingly turned out to be a comedy. The couple and the kidnapped policeman form a genuine bond as they journey together. And that final, epic police-car sequence is absolutely amazing.

The characters feel one-dimensional, and the creature design is underwhelming. When the story stalls, it relies on filler dialogue to pass the time. What starts with a jolt of scares quickly devolves into a repetitive mess of shaky-cam brawls between humans and aliens, with no real sense of suspense.

I feel for Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez at moments of visceral fear, courage and thrill. Although I disagree with almost all the policies that she advocates, I have to admit she’s a likable lady with genuine sense of mission for working class people. It’s always enjoyable to witness grassroots fighting against the system. Just remember how easy a human being can be corrupted.

Through the lives of a mother and daughter, the film explores many of the underlying issues plaguing American families: troubles of fractured households, loneliness experienced by singles, the psychological scars left by domestic conflict, and the rising cost of living that burdens everyday life.

Surfing is undeniably thrilling, but what stayed with me most was what Frosty considered crucial elements of surfing, namely, physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual strength. These aren’t just surfing principles—they’re the foundation of any meaningful life. A healthy soul, emotional maturity, and having a spirit of independence form the core of personal growth.

It’s a story full of potential—extraordinary characters paired with a rather legendary tale—yet the direction is disappointingly flat. Characters feel one-dimensional, the courtroom climax lacks punch, and even the investigative segments are rushed and uninspired. Carter’s final speech, which should’ve been rousing, ends up hollow and forgettable.

Though a remake, the film builds its own chilling atmosphere. The story is sharply focused on the girl’s revenge, and the final twist feels distinctly American in tone. The performances are solid across the board, grounding the supernatural in something hauntingly human.

Among Hollywood remakes of Asian horror movies, this is a rare success. While the Japanese original nearly put me to sleep aside from the iconic crawl out of the TV, the American version offers far more genuine scares and inventive moments. Naomi Watts is stunning and compelling, and the use of sound effects in transitions amplifies the dread.

The film’s power lies in its drama and the strength of its cast, especially Gene Hackman, who is quietly commanding as Anderson. He brings a stoic integrity to the role, and the confrontations with Klan members, often carried by a mere glance or gesture, are simply riveting.

Over sixty years ago, Satyajit Ray used "The Big City" to champion the right of women to work alongside men. It’s sobering how little has changed—technological and economic progress has raced ahead, yet for many Indian women, basic safety and equality remain elusive.

In the later stages, the plot begins to lose cohesion, and some key clues are resolved too hastily, leaving the audience with more questions than answers. The villain is also underwritten, with little insight into their motives or the forces behind them, which ultimately weakens the story’s stakes and emotional depth.

The film fully realises its action credentials, mixing brutal hand-to-hand combat, explosive car chases, and high-tech weaponry. The encounters between Roy and the assassins are tightly choreographed, delivering the slick, adrenalized experience you’d expect from a well-made studio action flick.

Relentlessly tedious. Despite its "comedy" label, it’s not remotely funny, nor does it offer any action. It’s just wall-to-wall dialogue, and halfway through I had to give up. As a commercial film, it’s a total misfire.

A runtime of 107 minutes is barely enough to fully flesh out a suspenseful adventure or its characters. What "Plane" really needed was perhaps an extra 20 minutes to push its climax to a more satisfying height.

Without a doubt, this is Martin Scorsese’s most underrated film. Every element is near perfection—the sets and jazz performances are meticulously crafted. In the first half, De Niro’s performance wins over Liza Minnelli; while in the second half, Minnelli responds with flawless singing and dancing: De Niro’s performance is impeccable, but he can’t carry a tune or move to the music.

When watching this film, once you become immersed in Robert De Niro’s performance, all the other actors seem to fade into the background.

Pairing the U.S. and U.K. presidents on a joint mission feels like a fresh setup, yet the plot and villains quickly fall into tired tropes. This might be the start of a new action subgenre—political satire meets absurdist comedy meets spy thriller. The storyline veers so far off the rails it feels like AI-generated chaos, but some of the dialogue is unexpectedly hilarious.

It didn’t really work for me—I didn’t catch any of Scorsese’s trademark style. It felt like he was just there to pad out the director and producer credits.