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Most cinephiles certainly thought about creating something in cinema at some point in their lives. It's easy to begin to think that the magic of the seventh art is as much about watching as it is about directing. So, who hasn't imagined picking up a camera and directing a video, no matter how short? Of course, with advances in technology, filmmaking has become accessible to many people.

Nasir (Adarsh Gourav) loves cinema. His happiness lies in showing films to the residents of Malegaon. The task won't be easy. He doesn't have much financial resources and enlists the help of his friends, including Farogh (Vineet Kumar Singh), Shafique (Shashank Arora), and Akram (Anuj Singh Duhan). Excited by their passion for the art, the group of friends even film using a camera on a bicycle, playing the role of the actors in the production.

Situated between comedy and drama, the film balances these two genres without resorting to redundant sentimentality. Whether it's the joyful crowd running after the group, knowing a new film is about to be filmed, or the melancholic scene in which one of the friends receives the sad news of a relative's death, it's interesting to note how joy and sadness merge throughout the narrative.

The director knows how to guide the narrative toward cinematic creativity and the value of friendship, both fueled by moments of success and turmoil.

The film contains numerous references and nods to film culture. Nasir is a fan of Bruce Lee, Buster Keaton, and Charles Chaplin. Incidentally, the film itself engages with the challenges and techniques of filmmaking.

In 1990, Giuseppe Tornatore surprised everyone with Cinema Paradiso, bringing together cinema and friendship on screen. Now it's Reema Kagti's turn. With such sensitivity and a keen eye, she manages to bring to the screen not only the setting of a city that uses cinema to alleviate daily problems, but also the feeling of friendship in various moments of life.

As Nasir said in one of the film's most pivotal moments: "The film can't just succeed, it has to last forever." Kagti may have had this in mind when directing Superboys of Malegaon. A film that will touch our hearts and deserves to be seen today and forever, by any generation.

Karma is a Korean series that, as the title itself says, fits the term to build its narrative. Six characters who are connected to each other and who are now faced with their past actions. Whether it's the gambler who is involved in debts, or the doctor who has a teenage trauma, it's interesting how the series weaves together the characters' fates in each episode it delivers.

The beginning is distressing in itself. A building is on fire, but a person manages to be saved amidst the rubble, despite suffering serious burns. Soon after, we are introduced to a man who lives his life on bets and loans, but after being threatened by a loan shark, he needs 30 days to pay off a large debt.

Straying from linearity, the series may seem confusing at first. However, this is yet another narrative that requires the pieces to be put together. Think of films like 21 Grams (2003) and Babel (2006), both by Alejandro González Iñárritu. Lives that intertwine through a few events, a fragmented narrative and a dizzying ending. Now, put that in Karma, but in a brutal, raw way and with the usual touch of Korean cinema.

Without resorting to effects and exaggerated and unfounded action, Karma builds its narrative well in a universe that is home to crimes, lies, bribes, betrayals, revenge, ideological falsehood, cheating, and greed. Even a loved one in the family can be sacrificed when the subject involves money. When fiction imitates real life so well, it can't go wrong. And Karma does all of this well in its 6 episodes. But it will shock you because it is so sincere.

Producing something that comes from fragments of other cinematic creations is not always so easy. Often ideas, strategies and even narrative clichés borrowed from other films may be present, but the result may be poor and forgettable. So knowing how to bring together and assemble fragments of the genre's history is important to avoid the obvious and yet another film that will go unnoticed both in theaters and on streaming services.

Spanish director Pedro Martín-Calero seems to have been inspired by some films of the genre to direct The Cry of Evil (El Llanto, 2024). Examples: By bringing something that insistently pursues the characters, we can remember the tension that was the excellent It Follows (2014). Andrea and Camila's constant filming during the narrative refers to the Found Footage culture (we know very well what it is like to be apprehensive that something will appear on the screen before our eyes).

The film tells the story of three women: Andrea (Ester Expósito), Camila (Malena Villa) and Marie (Mathilde Olivier). Divided into three acts, the film explores the lives of these characters when they are faced with an evil entity that is chasing them.

Let's say that Pedro works with several themes in his production, but he doesn't use them as a driving force for the narrative to move forward. Seclusion, machismo, isolation, and the separation of families are all mixed together in many scenes that, more than just scare us, serve to warn us about some evils that also scare us in society.

The modestly produced film has a touch of amateurism, perhaps even on purpose. But it manages to contribute to intensifying the retro, dark and desolate atmosphere of the story, as in Camila's passage that takes place in 1978.

One of the secrets here was to include resources that create tension in the viewer, such as the entrance to a dark and abandoned building that echoes people's cries or even Camilla's camera that insists on being out of focus in some shots. The director opts for external and internal settings that generally cause discomfort, often due to the lack of lighting, or sometimes due to the feeling of claustrophobia that it conveys.

Although the act involving Andrea is the most impactful, Pedro weaves the three acts together well, creating a correct and believable sequence for a stunning ending that culminates in a film that has an open ending, perhaps setting the stage for a sequel.