I must say, I was quite pleasantly surprised, especially since my expectations were practically non-existent. It has been a long while since a motion picture actually managed to make me laugh, even if I don't believe comedy was its primary objective. While the fantasy elements lack any profound allegorical depth, and the romantic subplots feel a bit excessive, the film remained engaging from start to finish and possessed a certain "Fear Street" atmosphere.
I’ve heard some people find it a bit tedious, but personally, I think it’s more than adequate. It offers a refreshing departure from the typical American slashers centered on psychopaths and revenge plots, and in my estimation, it stands out as one of the most superbly acted international films out there.
While it manages to be watchable in some small way, I found that it falls short in every single department compared to the original film. To be perfectly honest, it was a bit of a struggle to sit through.
Ashley Grant66 said:I thought the film was... lovely, honestly—really good. Everything eventually clicks into place and makes sense by the end, but I totally agree that it definitely could have been a bit shorter! I honestly thought the second half was way better—once all the characters finally start clicking together, it really hits. I especially loved those table read scenes; seeing the behind-the-scenes process of putting a play together was so cool, especially since I used to do a bit of theater myself back in the day! I honestly felt like the whole film was just—in the simplest terms possible—a celebration of storytelling itself. 😁Oto uses storytelling to process deep loss—it’s pretty moving. Even though these theater folks speak different languages, they all rely on this shared script as their main way to connect and express themselves. The lead character basically lives by interpreting everyone else's stories. There’s this incredibly powerful scene where a young actor tells the woman's story while they're in the car, and then—get this—he absolutely nails his rehearsal the next day. It’s like that storytelling actually cleared his head and helped him find himself within her words again. Then you have this reserved driver roll in, someone who isn't even part of the art world at all, only to share a life story that's more intense than anything he could have ever made up.
I find this stuff really fascinating—honestly, I could get lost in it for hours!
👍
Btw, the excuse for bringing in a driver is just nonsense—really lazy writing. Especially when you consider how a fancy theater with enough budget to treat its lead actor like a superstar would still hire some controversial guy who... well, you know, does questionable things to minors. I mean, he isn't exactly seen as a risk to the production or the theater's reputation. 😵 And let's not forget that the driver is, of course, unrefined and "tomboyish"—we're supposed to immediately realize she won't clash with the main guy and that she's got some heavy life story to deal with.
Personally, I interpreted the film as a critique of those whose lives grind to a halt because of someone else's death. You can almost see it right there in the title. Life isn't supposed to stop just because someone passes away; instead, you keep driving forward, even if there are different people behind the wheel now.
I haven't actually read the short story this was based on, but you can definitely feel Murakami's influence here; in my opinion, it’s even more palpable than in that Korean production from a few years back. Even though nothing particularly explosive happens in the film, I found myself so absorbed that I didn't once glance at the runtime to see how much was left—which, for me, is a true testament to how much I enjoyed it. It doesn't lean into any specific obsessions, but it might just be the only truly worthwhile thing I've watched from this past year.
When I first saw the announcement that this was being produced, my immediate assumption was that we were looking at a subpar adaptation of R. L. Stine’s work. As it turns out, it wasn't just a bad adaptation; it was simply a mediocre film that bears almost no resemblance to the essence of Stine or the Fear Street series. The screenplay lacked a coherent central concept, which makes it entirely logical that the final product offered nothing of substance. Furthermore, the child actors delivered performances that were frankly worse than those in any of those recent low-budget American kids' movies—meaning, they were truly terrible. What disappointed me most, however, was the complete failure to capture the nostalgic 90s atmosphere present in his novels. If it weren't for the presence of those old CRT monitors, I wouldn't have even realized the story was set in the 90s. All in all, it was quite a disappointment. I certainly won't be sitting through the entire trilogy.
Michael Ortiz68 said:I watched this movie right when it first hit theaters, and if memory serves, it was absolutely riddled with clichés and cheap sentimentality. The only reason people seem to hold it in such high regard is likely because it isn't a Hollywood production, which apparently makes it automatically superior in certain circles. 🤷
Much like most recent Russian war films, this feels like a pale imitation of American cinema, though one must admit this particular entry is quite forgettable. It feels like a mere derivative of American films about the Vietnam War, specifically echoing "Full Metal Jacket." When placed alongside German war films, the Russian efforts feel somewhat second-rate—and I am not merely referring to political objectivity, but to the actual artistic quality of the filmmaking itself.
There are plenty of them on the list. Birdman, Julius Caesar, A Serious Man, 8½, Solaris, Russian Ark... But fine, many others haven't even touched them, or if they did, it was clearly a massive struggle. The one film that absolutely everyone seems to rave about—yet I am perhaps the only person who hasn't managed to sit through to the end—is Memories of Murder. I’ve tried watching it twice now, and both times I couldn't even make it past the first hour. The acting felt so grating, the characters were utterly repulsive, the humor missed the mark entirely, and the case itself just failed to grab me. I truly cannot fathom what everyone else sees in that movie.
This film is just one iconic scene away from being an absolute masterpiece. It truly possesses all the essential elements of greatness: the narrative structure, the performances, the depth of the characters, and that unmistakable atmosphere. Personally, if I had to pick my favorite film set in Los Angeles, it would be this one—though, if I’m being honest, Chinatown still holds a very slight edge in my heart.
This is easily one of the most acclaimed films of the year and a frontrunner for the Oscar for Best Picture. It marks the third feature from Chinese-American director Chloé Zhao. Having watched her previous work, >, I was quite impressed, which led me to set my expectations fairly high for this project—especially given the glowing critical reception. However, I have to admit that the film didn't quite hit the mark for me. Given the subject matter and the director's established style, I went in fully expecting a slower pace, and I certainly don't mind a meditative tempo. My issue lies with the protagonist; despite appearing in almost every single scene, she felt incredibly distant, both emotionally and in terms of character depth. After over 100 minutes of screen time, I feel as though I couldn't even tell you two meaningful things about who she actually is. Furthermore, the movie maintains an unrelenting, singular tone from start to finish, composed of short, sometimes disjointed scenes that reminded me of those indie dramas you see coming out of small-town Midwest cinema. All things considered, I would give it a generous passing grade, but I wouldn't watch it again, and I suspect it will fade from my memory quite quickly.
I just finished watching Motherless Brooklyn, and honestly, I wasn't particularly impressed. In my opinion, it’s one of the weakest performances from Norton. It seems he isn't quite one of those actors who consistently outshines the material in his films. While the plot itself is relatively engaging, it feels somewhat overextended and, at certain points, becomes rather tedious.
Susan Taylor72 said:If we consider that plot twists, combined with that gritty, urban atmosphere and a heavy dose of crime, serve as the fundamental pillars of the genre, then I would argue that Fight Club fits perfectly within the realm of Neo-noir. Why wouldn't it? It is truly fascinating to look back at such a definitive collection of cinematic masterpieces. When you curate a list like this—spanning from the gritty, psychological descent of Taxi Driver and Se7en to the seductive, dangerous allure found in Basic Instinct and Fatal Attraction—you aren't just listing movies; you are mapping the very soul of suspense and tension. There is a certain rhythmic intensity when you transition from the dark, supernatural undertones of Angel Heart into the fractured, non-linear memory puzzles of Memento. It’s almost overwhelming to consider the sheer craftsmanship required to execute something as haunting as The Black Dahlia or as tightly wound as Reservoir Dogs. Each of these films serves as a pillar for its respective genre, whether we are discussing the high-stakes tension of The Usual Suspects, the raw, visceral power of Training Day, or the simmering, atmospheric heat of Body Heat and The Postman Always Rings Twice. It is a profound journey through the darker corners of the human condition. When we dive into the realm of tech noir, certain masterpieces immediately come to mind. I always find myself revisiting the atmospheric depths of Blade Runner and the clinical, high-stakes tension of Gattaca. Then there is the visceral energy of Strange Days, which some enthusiasts argue belongs in the same conversation as The Matrix, Total Recall, The Terminator, or Minority Report.
I wouldn't exactly put Fight Club in that category, primarily because of its core subject matter and its underlying purpose. If we look at classic Film Noir, the dominant themes are greed, corruption, discontent, betrayal, and disillusionment—essentially apolitical social vices. Fight Club, however, tackles much loftier, systemic issues like consumerism, capitalism, and hyper-marketing. I have always interpreted that film as a sort of allegory, though I must admit the ending still leaves me somewhat puzzled to this day. Out of the titles you mentioned, Memento, The Usual Suspects, and Minority Report could certainly pass for Neo-noir. On the other hand, Reservoir Dogs and Training Day feel more like straightforward crime thrillers, while Taxi Driver functions primarily as a social drama. That said, almost everything you listed shares some DNA with the standard definition of Neo-noir. To round out the list, I would personally add Miller's Crossing and Before the Devil Knows You're Dead as essential representatives of the genre.
I noticed there is a dedicated thread specifically for classic Noir, so if anyone feels this topic belongs over there, please feel free to move it. Personally, I believe we are looking at two distinct cinematic categories, so it would be best to keep them separate. What exactly defines Neo-Noir? It is difficult to categorize it as a standalone genre; some critics don't even consider it a subgenre at all, but rather a stylistic choice or a thematic guidepost. Regardless, this particular style is very dear to me because of how it weaves together various genres—thrillers, psychological dramas, horror, romance, mystery, and even dark comedy (think *Fargo* or *Inherent Vice*), comic book adaptations (*Sin City*), or surrealist thrillers (like the works of David Lynch). To put it most simply, these are thrillers driven by heavy drama, featuring meticulously developed characters, multi-layered plots, and an atmosphere that leans toward the depressive or the macabre, usually concluding with endings that are far from happy or one-dimensional. The characters are incredibly diverse, ranging from the deeply disturbed to the seemingly ordinary, and from the highly brilliant to the hopelessly clumsy. The settings are almost exclusively urban environments. Please, feel free to share your own interpretation of Neo-Noir as well. Unlike classic Noir, this style isn't quite as strictly bound by technical hallmarks like specific lighting, shadows, or camera angles.
Now... which films truly qualify as Neo-Noir? This is where opinions often diverge. Is *Pulp Fiction* Neo-Noir? In my view, absolutely. Would I include *Fight Club*? Not quite. Since I don't have a single "favorite" film, I will instead list ten examples, ordered chronologically from oldest to newest.
There are plenty of other candidates that could fit into this category, but these were the first ones that came to mind. What are your thoughts on Neo-Noir, and which films within this genre do you hold in the highest regard?
Personally, I’d say the movie is decent enough, though I wouldn't go so far as to rave about it. It isn't the kind of film that’s going to stick with me long-term, nor will it find a spot in my personal ranking of the best animated features from recent years. While the themes, the underlying message, and the characters are all top-tier, I can't help but wonder if the storytelling hit the mark. Specifically, was using an allegory for the afterlife truly the most effective way to tackle a theme centered on finding one's purpose in life? I'm genuinely undecided on that. The central plot feels quite unoriginal—a character is simply walking down the street, falls into a manhole, and suddenly finds themselves in some version of the Great Beyond. The first act feels rushed and somewhat underwhelming, though, thankfully, things eventually begin to click into place later on.
goldenhound32 said:While I really appreciate this director—I've seen almost all of his older work—Chloe is just garbage.
I was left completely stunned after watching it. I have truly never seen anything quite so foolish, especially when Atom Egoyan is involved.
Thank you for bringing him back to my attention; honestly, after seeing Chloe, I had completely forgotten he even existed. Looking at his recent output, it seems he has filmed four feature-length projects in the meantime, and a few of them actually look quite intriguing.👍
Well, what do I know? Personally, I found the film to be decent, even if I must admit the plot feels somewhat forced and the resolution is a bit shaky.
I think it’s time I breathed some life back into a thread that hasn't seen a post in fourteen years. Personally, I’ve always found him to be an underrated director—one who remains largely unknown to the general American public—but he is someone I hold in very high regard. Having watched quite a bit of his filmography, I have to say the man truly doesn't make a bad movie. Regarding the films mentioned, I found it interesting that the author pointed to *The Adjuster* as her favorite; strangely enough, that was actually the one I enjoyed the least. I can't quite put my finger on why, though. If I had to pick my top two, they would undoubtedly be *Exotica* and *The Sweet Hereafter*. While I might prefer the former slightly more, the latter offers a much deeper level of complexity. I also found *Felicia's Journey* to be excellent, even if it felt a bit sluggish at certain points; I suspect Atom Egoyan might have leaned a little too heavily on that old man's memories. Since the turn of the millennium, his work has drifted toward a more mainstream sensibility, and while the films remain good, they seem to lack some of that earlier creative spark. That said, *Chloe*, *Devil's Knot*, *Remember*, and *The Captive* are all solid, highly competent pieces of filmmaking.
I just finished watching "The Secret of Kaspar Hauser," and I honestly think it might be his finest work to date. It’s such a warm, straightforward narrative, yet it actually says far more about the society of that era than it does about Kaspar himself. He serves as this vessel for pure, healthy logic and untainted innocence, while the people surrounding him—ranging from the highly educated to the less so—are merely products of their environment and the specific time they live in.
I finally sat down to watch this Herzog documentary. It’s quite impressive, primarily because it avoids being heavy-handed and maintains a fairly objective lens. As for my take on Treadwell? About thirty minutes into the film, it hit me that the guy was suffering from that classic Western superiority complex—essentially trying to soothe his own insecurities and vices by convincing himself he was part of something monumental. In reality, he wasn't accomplishing anything purposeful. How exactly was he protecting those bears? From whom, or from what? It's noted that there isn't even any poaching in that area, and we never actually see him catching a single poacher in the act. That local Native American gave him the most sobering reality check when he pointed out that Treadwell likely did more harm than good; by habituating them to humans, he essentially turned them into easy targets for anyone looking for a trophy. But let's set all that aside for a moment. There is something else that bothers me much more deeply: the fact that the man was essentially a total fraud. He was so uninspiring and lacked any semblance of charisma in those videos that I found myself wondering who could possibly sit through that nonsense on a regular basis. I get the impression that Treadwell didn't truly love the bears, or animals, or nature in general; rather, he deliberately chose a niche where he faced zero competition just so he could feel unique. His father mentioned how much it crushed him when he failed to land certain roles, and I suspect there were plenty of other failures that sent him spiraling into depression. Ultimately, he pivoted to a field where he wouldn't have to compete with anyone. He Sillno tried to play the "madman" in his footage, but in truth, he just came across as a catastrophically bad actor. Between the rain rituals, the completely baseless attacks on the National Park Service and the federal government, the coddling of the animals, and those odd monologues about wanting to be gay or his claims that God would be pleased with him—it was exhausting. At times, watching his pathetic attempts to appear charismatic was genuinely uncomfortable. To me, he achieved nothing of value; he was a nonentity, and frankly, I felt no sympathy when he ended up in the bear's jaws. My only real pity is for the young woman who died alongside him, an innocent bystander in his mess.
I truly believe it is high time this film received its own dedicated discussion thread. In my estimation, it remains an underrated and somewhat overlooked gem; personally, I found it to be an excellent piece of cinema, and arguably far superior to anything produced by Raimi. The tension is palpable from the opening frame to the final credits, bolstered by brilliantly characterized individuals and complex interpersonal dynamics, all supported by stellar acting, a gripping atmosphere, and a profound message. For a film of this genre, there are remarkably few logical inconsistencies or plot holes to speak of. If I were to nitpick, the only element that felt somewhat unconvincing was how easily that particular character managed to pose as an FBI agent, and the fact that only Hanks' wife immediately harbored suspicions toward him. While some enthusiasts attempt to draw parallels to Fargo, and while there are certainly certain similarities—specifically the snowy landscapes and the presence of money acting as a catalyst for bloodshed—I would argue they are two entirely distinct cinematic experiences. I am curious to hear your thoughts.
Mark Cruz15 said:You aren't quite grasping my point; the first half of my sentence—everything before the comma—is enough to seal their fate. What happens afterward is almost secondary, though certainly not a mitigating factor. You simply cannot bail out of a vehicle traveling at 93 miles/h and expect to walk away. Snow isn't some cushioned yoga mat that’s going to soften the impact, and since the terrain isn't perfectly flat everywhere, there is an incredibly high probability they would strike a rock.
I hear you, and sure, there is a massive risk involved, but at the exact moment they are diverted onto that blind track, taking action would be their only shot at survival. They can't just stand there staring blankly and waiting for the end.
