superstradivariusboys

28 Days Later was on my list of must-see films, and now that I've finally watched it, I can say I'm not entirely disappointed. In fact, the film is genuinely good. It brings compelling ideas to the zombie genre, and you can clearly see how it influenced countless other zombie films that came after.

The performances are strong, and the atmosphere is well-balanced. Some scenes even lull you into forgetting you're watching a survival horror story-moments of human calm that make the chaos hit even harder when it inevitably returns. That contrast works really well and adds emotional weight to the journey.

But despite all the film gets right, there's one glaring flaw that nearly sinks the whole experience: the director's choice of camera.

With a solid budget behind it, the decision to shoot on digital video-specifically consumer-grade DV camcorders-feels inexplicable. This isn't a found footage film like The Blair Witch Project or Rec where the camera style serves the narrative. 28 Days Later is a traditionally directed film, and yet it looks like it was shot through a potato.

There is nothing in the story, structure, or tone that justifies this low-quality visual presentation. It's not immersive-it's distracting. The image is muddy, the colors are flat, and the compression artifacts are painfully obvious. How did no one protest this during pre-production? It genuinely boggles the mind.

This single artistic choice severely undermines an otherwise excellent film. Not only does it rob the movie of the cinematic weight it deserves, but it also guarantees that it will age poorly-visually speaking-even more so as technology advances.

Maybe one day, AI will be able to reconstruct this film in a way that matches the strength of its story and performances. Until then, 28 Days Later remains a great film that made one of the worst visual decisions in modern cinema.

Being overweight is often a painful and isolating experience, and the film Fat portrays that reality with an unflinching eye. It follows the life of an obese man who is too stubborn to change, and instead of focusing solely on losing weight, the story dives into his struggle with emotional avoidance and addiction to unhealthy habits.

The main character clearly wants to enjoy a "normal" social life-the kind that thinner, more conventionally attractive people often take for granted. But his biggest obstacle isn't just the weight itself; it's his inability to confront his feelings and take responsibility for his choices. The film does a good job showing how deeply rooted self-destructive behaviors can be, especially when tied to emotional pain.

As an indie, low-budget production, Fat uses a documentary-style, handheld camera approach. At first, this feels jarring and even distracting, especially during dramatic moments when the director opts for awkward zoom-ins. These zooms, in my opinion, don't add much and sometimes detract from the emotional impact. Still, the handheld style contributes to the film's raw, realistic tone, which seems to be the director's intention-and in that regard, it works.

The show had real potential. Some lines genuinely made me laugh. But overall, it felt artificial.

The writing isn't necessarily bad, but the way it's structured is off. It's not just what the characters say, it's how they say it, and how they interact. The pacing is strange, reactions feel unnatural, and everything comes off as rushed.

What really hurts the show is its lack of rhythm. In comedy and acting, rhythm is everything, it's what gives a scene life. Timing, pauses, delivery... that's where the magic happens. Here, it feels like the actors weren't given the space to find that rhythm. Instead, they seemed forced into a pace that didn't let the humor, or the heart, breathe.

"Clean Slate" had all the right ingredients, but the execution didn't land. Instead of flowing naturally, it felt like a series of moments that never quite connected.