Apireon

I didn't expect Nobody 2 to work as well as it did, but to my own surprise, it turned out to be an entertaining and decently executed sequel. Timo Tjahjanto, known for his gritty, kinetic action in films like The Night Comes for Us, brings his own flavor to the franchise, delivering a sequel that stays true to the spirit of the original while clearly trying to up the ante. It's definitely a typical follow-up in many ways: bigger, louder, and a bit messier but still a fun ride overall.

The core appeal remains intact. I still love the character of Hutch: an aging, seemingly ordinary guy with a terrifyingly violent past, navigating both PTA meetings and bone-crunching fistfights. Bob Odenkirk has truly grown into the role. You feel how comfortable he is now in Hutch's skin, and that makes a huge difference. His timing is excellent, both in terms of action and dry humor. There's a charm in watching a guy who looks more like your accountant than an assassin dismantle entire gangs with brutal precision.

The action choreography is strong, especially in standout sequences like the Duck Boat brawl. Tjahjanto uses space well, never losing the audience in chaos. The fights are clean, the camera work crisp, and the editing handled with razor-sharp rhythm by Elísabet Ronaldsdóttir, keeps the energy high without overwhelming the viewer. There's a certain joy in how absurdly violent it all is, but it's never without style or purpose.

What holds Nobody 2 back for me is its attempt to be bigger for the sake of being bigger. The story leans too much into the overblown, losing some of the grounded grit that made the first film so memorable. There's an amusement park sequence and a few wild set pieces that are fun to watch but feel like they're trying a bit too hard to one-up the original. In doing so, the film sacrifices some of the authenticity and sharp character focus that made Nobody feel like more than just another action flick.

Sharon Stone was a pleasant surprise. She seems to have had genuine fun with her role, and her screen presence brings a welcome jolt of charisma. The film doesn't give her a lot to do, but what she delivers is solid. The supporting cast does its job, and while nothing truly stands out on a dramatic level, the energy is consistent.

Visually, the film looks slick. Cinematographer Callan Green brings a stylish, almost glossy aesthetic that contrasts with the grimy brutality of the violence. It's well-paced and rarely boring, but it also doesn't linger in your memory the way the first one did. It's good popcorn entertainment, but the emotional impact and thematic freshness of the original are largely absent.

It's a well-made, fun action sequel that just doesn't quite recapture the lightning-in-a-bottle feel of the first. It's the kind of movie you enjoy in the moment, but it probably won't stay with you. Still, for fans of stylized action and Odenkirk's take on the reluctant antihero, it's absolutely worth a watch. Just temper your expectations a little.

Re-Animator (1985), directed by Stuart Gordon and loosely based on a short story by H. P. Lovecraft, is a cult splatterfest that lives and breathes pure genre madness. It's over-the-top, outrageously gory and soaked in pitch-black humor, and that's exactly what makes it such an enduring favorite among horror fans. Watching it today, I still find plenty to enjoy, though I wouldn't go as far as calling it a masterpiece. For me, it's a solid 7 out of 10.

The practical effects are what truly steal the show. They're grotesque, gooey, and gleefully absurd. While some scenes feel more like midnight-movie parody than true horror, there's an undeniable charm in how far Gordon is willing to go. It's not afraid to be completely unhinged, especially in the final act, which explodes into a crescendo of body horror and black comedy inside a morgue that has seen far too much.

Jeffrey Combs is brilliant as the obsessively unhinged Dr. Herbert West. He walks a fine line between mad scientist cliché and genuinely magnetic screen presence. Barbara Crampton, as always, commits fully to the madness around her, and while some performances may come off as campy or stiff, they work within the film's tone. It doesn't aim for realism, it aims for gleeful chaos and mostly succeeds.

Where the film loses some points for me is in its pacing and tone. There are stretches where the story feels thin and a bit directionless. It's never boring, but there's a slight feeling of repetition, and some of the shock value feels like it's there just to be provocative, not to support the narrative. Additionally, the blend of horror and humor, while mostly successful, doesn't always land with the same consistency. Some gags are brilliant, others feel a bit forced.

That said, it's a film that never pretends to be more than what it is: a wild, gory ride made with passion, creativity and practical ingenuity. It's no wonder it has such a devoted fanbase and spawned sequels. For fans of outrageous body horror and horror comedies, this is essential viewing. But for viewers looking for more substance or subtlety, Re-Animator might feel like a bloody mess without much meaning.

I agree that Re-Animator shines most when it embraces its chaotic identity. It's a cult classic for a reason, just not a flawless one. Worth seeing, worth admiring for its practical effects and sheer audacity but not quite a horror masterpiece in my book.

Luca Guadagnino is a filmmaker I deeply admire. His style is unmistakable, rich in visual poetry and emotional nuance. But Queer is, sadly, his weakest film to date. While it begins with a certain structure and intrigue, it quickly descends into a meandering, unfocused fever dream that left me emotionally detached and, frankly, bored.

Daniel Craig deserves real credit here. He fully commits and proves he can do far more than his Bond persona ever allowed. His portrayal is brave and layered and it's perhaps the film's most compelling element. That said, his character, like most in the film, remains frustratingly opaque. We learn very little about him beyond his dependence on sex and opiates. The younger love interest, who should carry significant emotional weight, is similarly underwritten and lacks any real depth or development.

Visually, the film is stunning. There's no denying Guadagnino's talent as a stylist. Mexico City is transformed into a place that feels suspended between reality and dream with heat-soaked colors, saturated textures and an atmosphere that borders on the hypnotic. The occasional use of miniatures and stylized set pieces feel like loving nods to the cinema of the 1950s, grounding the film in its period while simultaneously lifting it into the surreal. I genuinely felt the weight of the heat, the sweat, the slow unraveling of sanity. This is Guadagnino at his most tactile.

Yet despite this beauty the film just doesn't work for me. Scenes drag far too long and often lead nowhere. Dialogue becomes repetitive and the narrative loses any sense of urgency or direction. Artistic flourishes can only carry a film so far if there's no emotional spine to hold onto. And that's the biggest problem: the story feels hollow. There's very little to connect to and the characters remain distant as if trapped in their own stylistic cages.

I'm sure Queer will find its audience. It's undeniably bold and unafraid to linger on the messy uncomfortable aspects of desire and dependency. It's also visually accomplished and occasionally hypnotic. But for me it felt like a series of beautifully filmed ideas that never quite congealed into a compelling whole. I respect the attempt. I admire the craft. But the experience left me cold.