"The Calendar Killer" wants to be something different. From the title alone, it projects a sense of self-righteousness, an air of significance. I wanted to buy in - I really did. The dark, moody atmosphere, the German dialogue that demands full attention. It had promise. But as the mystery unfolds, so do its flaws, unraveling in ways that feel less like a carefully plotted puzzle and more like a slow descent into absurdity.
The protagonist is sympathetic enough, the kind of character you're supposed to root for. And at first, I did. But then she makes choices - bewildering, frustrating choices - that seem completely divorced from reality. The kind that pull you out of the story rather than deeper into it. The film wades into sensitive territory, clearly aiming for depth, but it never quite lands the punch. Instead, it fumbles its message, leaving the protagonist delivering a speech that should resonate, should mean something. Instead, it frustrates.
That's when it lost me. I can suspend disbelief when a story earns it, when the logic of its world holds together. But here? Here, the cracks are too big, the missteps too frequent. And for a film that wants you to think, to reflect, to feel something meaningful - it instead achieves something else entirely. An eye roll.
