18 reviews
It was a cold, gray Sunday morning. The wind rattled the windows, and rain poured steadily, wrapping the day in a quiet, somber mood. I had no plans-just the comfort of my couch and the promise of a slow, uneventful morning.
Then, my phone lit up. A message. Her name.
"Let's watch Parasite. You better pay attention."
I stared at the screen for a moment. I had heard of the film-whispers of brilliance, tension, and surprise. Did I feel like diving into it right now? Not really. But I knew better than to ignore her suggestion.
So, with a breath of curiosity and the press of a button, I started the movie.
Two and a half hours later, I sat in silence-stunned, unsettled, and certain I had witnessed something unforgettable.
The review:
Parasite begins with a slow, almost playful rhythm, much like the gentle tapping of rain before a downpour. The Kim family-Ki-taek (Song Kang-ho), Chung-sook (Jang Hye-jin), Ki-woo (Choi Woo-shik), and Ki-jung (Park So-dam)-live in a cramped, damp basement apartment, their window offering little more than a view of the street's filth and the occasional drunkard relieving himself. Their lives are shaped by scarcity, but their bond is unshakable.
When an opportunity arises for Ki-woo to tutor the daughter of the wealthy Park family, the Kims seize it. One by one, through clever lies and careful manipulation, they embed themselves in the Parks' luxurious household. The initial warmth and humor lulled me into a false sense of security-just like the soft patter of rain before a thunderclap. I felt her eyes on me from afar, making sure I was paying attention. And I was.
Every actor carries the weight of their character's desperation and desire. Song Kang-ho, as the weary Ki-taek, delivers a performance that feels deeply human-tired, hopeful, and quietly resentful. Park So-dam, sharp and charismatic as Ki-jung, embodies the resourcefulness born from struggle. The Parks, played by Lee Sun-kyun and Cho Yeo-jeong, are both kind and cold, oblivious to the systems that shield them from the harshness of life below.
Watching it with her, I felt something shift-an unspoken acknowledgment of the performances' power. It was more than a movie; it was a mirror reflecting how easily human connection can be clouded by circumstance.
The Park family's home is a masterpiece of design-spacious, pristine, and flooded with sunlight. But Bong Joon-ho transforms it into something ominous. The large windows, once inviting, become unsettling, as though the house is always watching. Every stairway and hidden door feels like a fault line between privilege and struggle.
The Kims' infiltration into this space felt like stepping into the eye of the storm-calm, controlled, and yet brimming with tension. And like any storm, peace would not last.
When the storm inside the film finally erupts, it is swift and merciless. The hidden basement, the forgotten lives beneath the Parks' luxury, the violence that follows-it felt like the sky breaking open. The literal rainstorm that floods the Kims' basement, washing away their fragile illusion of success, mirrored the storm that had been brewing in the film's soul all along.
I remember thinking of her as the floodwaters rose on-screen-both of us silent, both of us feeling the cold, suffocating truth of it. The real storm outside felt distant compared to the one inside us and the film.
Parasite is more than a thriller or a drama-it is a reflection of society's fault lines. It lays bare the invisible walls that separate rich and poor, the comfort of the upper class built on the suffering of those below.
The rain, which brings the Parks a night of peaceful sleep, brings the Kims devastation. And in that moment, I felt the duality of the storm around us-how the same world can be cruel to some and comforting to others.
The climax left me breathless. Violence erupts, not from evil, but from the slow accumulation of resentment, misunderstanding, and desperation. Ki-taek's final act-his sudden, uncontrollable break-feels like the final crash of thunder after too much pressure in the air.
And then, quiet.
When the credits rolled, I didn't reach for the remote. She didn't say anything either. The storm outside had eased, but inside, the weight of what we had witnessed remained. I realized that Parasite wasn't just a story; it was a confrontation-with society, with privilege, and with ourselves.
Final Thoughts:
That morning, I hadn't wanted to watch the film. But as the rain slowed and the sky began to clear, I knew I had experienced something rare-something that challenged and changed me. She knew it too.
Bong Joon-ho's Parasite is more than a masterpiece of cinema; it is a storm-a force of nature that strips away illusions and leaves you standing in the wreckage of what you thought you understood.
She told me to pay attention. And I did.
Then, my phone lit up. A message. Her name.
"Let's watch Parasite. You better pay attention."
I stared at the screen for a moment. I had heard of the film-whispers of brilliance, tension, and surprise. Did I feel like diving into it right now? Not really. But I knew better than to ignore her suggestion.
So, with a breath of curiosity and the press of a button, I started the movie.
Two and a half hours later, I sat in silence-stunned, unsettled, and certain I had witnessed something unforgettable.
The review:
Parasite begins with a slow, almost playful rhythm, much like the gentle tapping of rain before a downpour. The Kim family-Ki-taek (Song Kang-ho), Chung-sook (Jang Hye-jin), Ki-woo (Choi Woo-shik), and Ki-jung (Park So-dam)-live in a cramped, damp basement apartment, their window offering little more than a view of the street's filth and the occasional drunkard relieving himself. Their lives are shaped by scarcity, but their bond is unshakable.
When an opportunity arises for Ki-woo to tutor the daughter of the wealthy Park family, the Kims seize it. One by one, through clever lies and careful manipulation, they embed themselves in the Parks' luxurious household. The initial warmth and humor lulled me into a false sense of security-just like the soft patter of rain before a thunderclap. I felt her eyes on me from afar, making sure I was paying attention. And I was.
Every actor carries the weight of their character's desperation and desire. Song Kang-ho, as the weary Ki-taek, delivers a performance that feels deeply human-tired, hopeful, and quietly resentful. Park So-dam, sharp and charismatic as Ki-jung, embodies the resourcefulness born from struggle. The Parks, played by Lee Sun-kyun and Cho Yeo-jeong, are both kind and cold, oblivious to the systems that shield them from the harshness of life below.
Watching it with her, I felt something shift-an unspoken acknowledgment of the performances' power. It was more than a movie; it was a mirror reflecting how easily human connection can be clouded by circumstance.
The Park family's home is a masterpiece of design-spacious, pristine, and flooded with sunlight. But Bong Joon-ho transforms it into something ominous. The large windows, once inviting, become unsettling, as though the house is always watching. Every stairway and hidden door feels like a fault line between privilege and struggle.
The Kims' infiltration into this space felt like stepping into the eye of the storm-calm, controlled, and yet brimming with tension. And like any storm, peace would not last.
When the storm inside the film finally erupts, it is swift and merciless. The hidden basement, the forgotten lives beneath the Parks' luxury, the violence that follows-it felt like the sky breaking open. The literal rainstorm that floods the Kims' basement, washing away their fragile illusion of success, mirrored the storm that had been brewing in the film's soul all along.
I remember thinking of her as the floodwaters rose on-screen-both of us silent, both of us feeling the cold, suffocating truth of it. The real storm outside felt distant compared to the one inside us and the film.
Parasite is more than a thriller or a drama-it is a reflection of society's fault lines. It lays bare the invisible walls that separate rich and poor, the comfort of the upper class built on the suffering of those below.
The rain, which brings the Parks a night of peaceful sleep, brings the Kims devastation. And in that moment, I felt the duality of the storm around us-how the same world can be cruel to some and comforting to others.
The climax left me breathless. Violence erupts, not from evil, but from the slow accumulation of resentment, misunderstanding, and desperation. Ki-taek's final act-his sudden, uncontrollable break-feels like the final crash of thunder after too much pressure in the air.
And then, quiet.
When the credits rolled, I didn't reach for the remote. She didn't say anything either. The storm outside had eased, but inside, the weight of what we had witnessed remained. I realized that Parasite wasn't just a story; it was a confrontation-with society, with privilege, and with ourselves.
Final Thoughts:
That morning, I hadn't wanted to watch the film. But as the rain slowed and the sky began to clear, I knew I had experienced something rare-something that challenged and changed me. She knew it too.
Bong Joon-ho's Parasite is more than a masterpiece of cinema; it is a storm-a force of nature that strips away illusions and leaves you standing in the wreckage of what you thought you understood.
She told me to pay attention. And I did.
Rewatching Life is like stepping back into a time when comedy and tragedy blended seamlessly, when Eddie Murphy and Martin Lawrence shared the screen with such ease it felt like you were watching old friends riff off one another, laughing in spite of the pain beneath. It's like returning to a familiar corner of your mind, where humor softened the edges of harsh realities, a space where the struggles of life were met with defiant laughter.
Each time you watch Life, it's like meeting up with Ray and Claude again-two men who, despite the odds, never lost their spirit, even when life tried to strip them of everything. Their banter, their resilience, it all feels like a reunion with parts of yourself that once knew how to laugh, even when the circumstances were anything but funny. They remind you that humor can be a shield, a way to push back against life's injustices, even when the weight of the world bears down.
The film, with its biting wit and quiet heartbreak, isn't just a story about two men wrongfully imprisoned-it's a reflection on the ways we cope with our own prisons, whether literal or metaphorical. Watching Life again is like flipping through an old photo album, filled with memories of moments that made you laugh, but also moments that forced you to confront the bitter realities of the world. Yet, each time, you find new layers-new moments of subtle brilliance in the performances, in the way humor is used not just as relief, but as a form of survival.
And with each rewatch, Life feels like a touchstone, a film that, despite its age, still resonates. The jokes still land, but now, perhaps, they land differently. What was once just funny now feels like a deeper commentary on the human spirit's ability to endure, to resist. Ray and Claude aren't just characters-they're symbols of that stubborn refusal to let life break you down completely.
In rewatching Life, you're not just revisiting a movie-you're reconnecting with a part of yourself that sees the absurdity of the world, and yet still finds a way to laugh through it.
Each time you watch Life, it's like meeting up with Ray and Claude again-two men who, despite the odds, never lost their spirit, even when life tried to strip them of everything. Their banter, their resilience, it all feels like a reunion with parts of yourself that once knew how to laugh, even when the circumstances were anything but funny. They remind you that humor can be a shield, a way to push back against life's injustices, even when the weight of the world bears down.
The film, with its biting wit and quiet heartbreak, isn't just a story about two men wrongfully imprisoned-it's a reflection on the ways we cope with our own prisons, whether literal or metaphorical. Watching Life again is like flipping through an old photo album, filled with memories of moments that made you laugh, but also moments that forced you to confront the bitter realities of the world. Yet, each time, you find new layers-new moments of subtle brilliance in the performances, in the way humor is used not just as relief, but as a form of survival.
And with each rewatch, Life feels like a touchstone, a film that, despite its age, still resonates. The jokes still land, but now, perhaps, they land differently. What was once just funny now feels like a deeper commentary on the human spirit's ability to endure, to resist. Ray and Claude aren't just characters-they're symbols of that stubborn refusal to let life break you down completely.
In rewatching Life, you're not just revisiting a movie-you're reconnecting with a part of yourself that sees the absurdity of the world, and yet still finds a way to laugh through it.
Nah. This is more a movie that i could see Frank Grillo starring in.
Was an overall decent flick but the acting fell short at times. I think Frank Grillo would've done a better job on the lead role.
Was an overall decent flick but the acting fell short at times. I think Frank Grillo would've done a better job on the lead role.
These reviews are either fake or people are ridiculous and don't know what constitutes a good movie. This movie is nowhere near a 10. It isn't even a 5. I gave this movie the 2 it deserves and don't even recommend anyone else waste their time on this drivel.
Captivating from beginning to end. Sat in silence and watched every second of this masterpiece totally engrossed with what was on screen. Truly one of the greatest films i ever seen. Top notch acting by phenomenal actors.
This movie is utterly fantastic. It's, in my opinion, the best of the "groundhog day" genre.
This was a very enjoyable horror film with likable characters.
I've always said the key to a good horror film is having characters the audience cares about. If the characters are unrelateable or unlikeable then the audience has nothing to latch onto and the horror becomes moot because you couldn't care less if the people live or die.
Here, the characters are likable and you find yourself caring for the outcome.
Here, the characters are likable and you find yourself caring for the outcome.
They just really can't make good scary movies anymore. Who thinks this cap is scary, or even good for that matter?
Predictable and boring from the opening credits to the end credits.
Don't even bother wasting your time on this one.
...not good at all...
I like slow burn horror thrillers, but this was just ridiculous. It was a slow burn that went nowhere. For a slow burn to be good it has to pay off in the end. There is no payoff here. The movie was bad all the way through...
I like slow burn horror thrillers, but this was just ridiculous. It was a slow burn that went nowhere. For a slow burn to be good it has to pay off in the end. There is no payoff here. The movie was bad all the way through...
... And the 10 star reviews are even more of a joke. Terrible "horror" movie yet again... Why they even bother anymore to make horror movies is beyond me.
I wish you could reply to reviews so I could say to a fellow reviewer how off he is. He states that "the principle from the breakfast club plays the CEO of the Kaslan company." The principle, Paul Gleason died in 2006 so he is most certainly NOT in this movie...
I wish you could reply to reviews so I could say to a fellow reviewer how off he is. He states that "the principle from the breakfast club plays the CEO of the Kaslan company." The principle, Paul Gleason died in 2006 so he is most certainly NOT in this movie...
This movie is abysmal. Poor acting. Poor editing. Poor script. Poor director. I miss anything? All the 7 8 and 9 star reviews are a joke. How drunk were you people when rating this? Go and watch a real 9 star movie and then compare the two. This is the type of movie that any Joe Blow could whip up with a camcorder and a couple of friends over a weekend.
Ten doesn't do it justice as this needs to stand out from the rest of the pack... This is one of the greatest shows ever.
I mean what the hell. Remaking movies that're less than 15 years old... What's next?
What makes this movie good is the characters are likeable. What hurts horror movies or thrillers is having characters that you couldn't care less if they die because they are annoying idiots. The characters here a mostly likeable and you find yourself not wanting them to die. Great little film.
I enjoyed this movie. It was what I expected from the director. It has a lot of overlong useless scenes, most of which go nowhere. It is a 153 minute movie that could've been told in 100 minutes or less and lose nothing story wise.
Now with that said. I like that it is 153 minutes. I like that it has overlong scenes that add nothing and go nowhere. But I know this director. I know his movies. I know what to expect. Know what you're getting into before you watch it.
...that you don't want to end. This was a fantastic movie. Great acting. Great story. A shame that Viggo Mortensen didnt win the oscar for best actor.
This was a horrible movie. The first one was night and day better. Why they continue to make such crap movies is beyond me. Who works on a movie like this then when finished and ready for release thinks it's good? Who is proud of a making crap like this?