Reviews

The film strikes a balance between preserving the Looney Tunes legacy and introducing fresh ideas, delivering a delightful dose of nostalgia. The voice acting is excellent, with strong chemistry between characters. The humor is sharp, the pacing brisk, and the visuals vibrant. At its heart, it’s a story about friendship wrapped in zany, fast-paced comedy. However, some of the supporting characters feel underdeveloped.

The costume and makeup design for Peter Pan accentuate his sinister nature—his scars and unkempt appearance shatter the clean-cut image of the classic character, turning him into a figure of menace. The production design masterfully blends decay with fantasy, using muted colors and eerie props to create an oppressive and mysterious atmosphere. Meanwhile, the film’s score and sound design work in tandem to amplify the horror, further immersing the audience in its dark, unsettling world.

The third episode is nothing short of phenomenal—arguably one of the best explorations in recent years of hyper-masculinity, incel culture, and their impact on young minds. The way it captures the seamless integration of online and offline influence is chilling. The choice to shoot it in a single take might seem like a gimmick, but with a script this strong, it only amplifies the intensity.

Lee’s character is driven by vengeance and tragedy, yet he exudes both courage and cunning, making his combat scenes exhilarating. This isn’t just mindless violence; these fights pulse with raw intensity and significance. While the sound effects and exaggerated facial expressions may feel over the top, Lee’s sheer physical prowess and bone-crunching fight sequences are undeniably thrilling.

What would you do if your significant other gets killed? Would you be inclined to garner a particular set of skills and go on a quest of revenge? No? Yeah, me neither. In THE AMATEUR, based on the book by Robert Littell, Charlie (Rami Malek) is a cryptographer at the CIA. Being a genius, he loves solving puzzles, but he loves his wife Sarah (Rachel Brosnahan) more. After she gets killed by terrorists, he is stricken with grief, and starts going down the path of revenge. Having no combat training, he is reluctantly trained by Robert (Lawrence Fishburne). This is a clever spy thriller that has a uniquely intriguing protagonist. Being very smart, Charlie uses unconventional means to get the job done. Sadly, we see too much in the trailer. I also appreciate how authentic the action scenes are. They feel gritty and sometimes brutal. I find it fascinating that they were going to go with Hugh Jackman in the main role, that would’ve been weird. They do a good job highlighting how killing somebody can affect a person, however indirectly. Malek is perfect for this role, he does an amazing job. I really felt his pain, grief, and frustration. I’m a massive fan of Jon Bernthal, but his character seemed very inconsequential. It was fun seeing the guy, but he didn’t need to be here. The movie could’ve cut his scenes, and it would’ve helped pick up the overall pace. Sadly, the ending should’ve been more satisfying. Plot familiarities and certain conveniences aside, THE AMATUER is a very solid clever spy thriller, and I really enjoyed the ride.

The camera follows characters as they ascend staircases and move through rooms, creating a voyeuristic intimacy. The filmmakers wisely let naturalistic dialogue drive the story instead of relying on exposition. Through everyday conversations, we gradually uncover each family member’s personality, conflicts, and hidden pasts. However, as a thriller, the film lacks the tension and scares that define classic horror.

Cate Blanchett and Michael Fassbender deliver stellar performances. Blanchett’s portrayal of Katherine exudes sensuality, mystery, and internal conflict. In her therapy sessions with Zoë, she masterfully conveys Katherine’s guarded demeanor through subtle shifts in expression and tone. Fassbender, meanwhile, embodies George with chilling precision, capturing his calculated detachment with an almost mechanical coldness.

Many of the French New Wave's "Cahiers du Cinéma" directors transitioned from critics to filmmakers, and this work adopts a documentary-like approach to depict the filmmaking process. Contrary to the romanticized notions of cinephiles, the set is a place of disorder and urgency, plagued by unforeseen hurdles—from the sudden death of a key actor requiring script rewrites to the relentless pressure of needing to avoid clashes with the actors’ busy schedules.

The pacing is uneven, with certain scenes being dreadfully draggy. The film’s intricate narrative structure, which includes flashbacks and parallel storytelling, occasionally feels convoluted. However, the performances compensate for these shortcomings. James Oliver Wheatley brings a nuanced portrayal of Peter’s devotion and inner turmoil, while Robert Knepper embodies Judas with gripping intensity, capturing his ambition and moral conflict. Jamie Ward delivers a compelling depiction of Jesus, balancing divinity with human vulnerability.

The pacing and narrative structure are flawed, bogged down by excessive, unproductive dialogue. Key moments rely on awkward voiceovers instead of organic storytelling. The 1990s setting lacks authentic details, and the soundtrack leans heavily on overused rock anthems like "Breaking the Law" and "Wonderwall," failing to evoke a genuine sense of the era.

Beyond its lavish sets and magnificent crowd sequences, what truly captivates audiences are the lingering close-ups, extensive zoom shots, and masterful use of mirrors and light to sculpt character depth. The on-site castle shoots are breathtaking. However, the second part of the film suffers from an inexplicably higher audio volume—at times, the dialogue, score, and sound effects are distorted, making it a frustrating auditory experience.

As expected, the film rambles on and on. Watching Rivette requires patience for his sprawling narrative style, or else one might be tempted to abandon it midway. But if you embrace it, the journey proves rewarding—his unexpected ideas and distinct cinematic language shine through. The opening pursuit is particularly amusing, setting the stage for later voyeuristic themes. While neither of the two French women are conventionally stunning, their sharp wit and eccentric charm draw you irresistibly into their world.

The more I watch "Who Am I?", the more I appreciate Jackie Chan’s collaborations with Benny Chan—films like "New Police Story" and "Robin-B-Hood" truly represent his peak. While Jackie isn’t as agile as he once was, the action choreography remains exceptional, and the set pieces are nothing short of spectacular. The story itself is also well-crafted, filled with twists and humor, making for an engaging ride.

The action sequences uses stark juxtaposition of pain and numbness to inject dark humor. The protagonist’s condition fuels a series of inventive and highly entertaining fight scenes, blending comedy, action, and romance with remarkable cohesion. However, the film’s depiction of law enforcement is laughably weak—almost to the point of parody.

Luring audiences in with flashy, grotesque kills in the trailer only to pivot into tedious romantic banter is a tried-and-true marketing trick, and this film is no exception. The action choreography lacks style or impact, and the script feels like a by-the-numbers studio product rather than a fresh take on the genre. It's pure wasted potential—what could have been a thrilling ride instead settles for mediocrity.

Beneath its wacky premise, the film explores profound themes of family, growth, and morality. Petey’s journey toward empathy, influenced by Lil’ Petey, underscores the power of love and connection. It encourages viewers to reflect on what truly defines family. However, the storytelling occasionally meanders, with some disjointed plot developments that disrupt narrative flow.

Compared to Gerard Butler’s previous action films, this one feels like a half-hearted effort. It sets itself up as an intense air disaster-survival thriller, only to morph into a generic ground-level shootout once the plane lands. The standoff sequences lack tactical finesse, and the action scenes are outright disappointing. With such an obvious power imbalance between the two sides, there’s no real tension—just a series of predictable, uninspired skirmishes.

I’ll admit, the film is difficult to grasp, but it left me with the same sense of despair I felt when watching "Leaving Las Vegas." Bernardo Bertolucci masterfully intertwines sex and human nature, and his cinematographic style is unmistakable. The way he wields light, color, and movement—especially in the cramped, dimly lit apartment—creates an intoxicating atmosphere, where smooth tracking shots, suggestive hues, and haunting music elevate the film into a breathtaking visual and auditory experience.

The narrative structure weaves together Mickey’s present-day investigation with flashbacks that flesh out her past. This layered approach enriches the storytelling, gradually revealing the emotional stakes behind her actions. However, it comes at the cost of pacing—the slow, meandering tempo threatens to sap the tension from an otherwise compelling premise.

Malick’s extraordinary talent is seen in the visual storytelling and narrative style in this debut. The performances perfectly capture the essence of each character, while the use of voiceover infuses the film with a lyrical quality. Beneath its seemingly detached storytelling, the film is ultimately a meditation on human nature.