Catherine Gnana Prakash

SZN4 GOT ROBBBEEDDDD.Period In this generation, we are wanting something "unconventional", authentic, something that we haven't seen before, Not only was the band incredible in their vocals and their harmony. They were A power!! They connected and they were a force. What a brilliantly honest delivery. You felt every note, every lyric, every breath like it came from a place that was raw and so human. Honestly they shouldve won. 3Quency was also very good and they blend so well in their energies and vocals. They grew as a band and I loved their work ethic. They were some hardworking, determined girls. Just because i didnt like the judges vote, it doesnt automatically diminish what these girls had to offer. They were incredible and definitely will sell. But damn SZN4 maannnn!!! Really want to see more of them in the real world. This can’t be the end

I saw the trailer and thought, “Okay, this might be fun, quirky maybe.” But fuck no. It was a full-blown disaster. Like, zero direction, zero acting, zero logic—just a whole lotta cringe thrown together for no reason. If you’ve watched it, you know what I mean. And if you haven’t? Good. Stay the hell away. The plot? What plot? It was so damn stupid, I don’t even know how to explain it. Nothing makes sense. Nothing connects. It’s like they just woke up one day and said, “Let’s make a film for the sake of making one.” Honestly, I don’t even have words. That’s how bad it was. Waste of time, energy, brain cells—everything. Do yourself a favor and skip this one.

I found myself skipping through The Life List more than actually watching it, which says a lot. The dialogues were painfully bland, and the entire movie felt predictable from start to finish. But my biggest issue? The protagonist. She was insufferably self-absorbed. I’ve seen other reviews mention it, but in this movie, it’s glaringly obvious. A prime example? When she reunites with her boyfriend after her trip. He’s being vulnerable, expressing how much he missed her, and instead of acknowledging his emotions, she immediately redirects the conversation: “Oh, but you didn’t ask about my dad!” Excuse me? The man has been waiting for you, missing you, and you’re mad because he didn’t prioritize your narrative over his own feelings? Then there’s the dinner scene. She invites him into her world, but instead of easing him in, she expects him to adapt instantly, giving zero regard to his comfort. When he points out that her friends’ conversations feel all over the place, she takes offense. Since when is having a specific taste in discussions a crime? It’s not like he was being rude, just observant. But no, in her world, if you don’t instantly vibe with her people and her way of life, you’re just wrong. Another thing that made no sense—the romance. The guy she ends up with? Sure, they had a solid friendship, but that’s exactly what it felt like—friendship. There was no genuine buildup to a romantic connection. And let’s not ignore the fact that both of them literally cheated. He broke up with his girlfriend, she broke up with her boyfriend, and within hours, they were sleeping together just because they were drunk. The next morning, she tries to call it a mistake, and instead of taking responsibility, she blames him for not telling her they had broken up earlier. Really? Classic avoidance. She loves shifting blame—on her dad, on her biological father, on anyone but herself. Even the mom’s videos rubbed me the wrong way. I get that the protagonist needed guidance, but she wasn’t the only child. There were two other siblings who lost their mother too, but apparently, they didn’t need emotional support? The most telling moment was when her brother’s wife, Catherine, tells her that he’s having a hard time. The protagonist cluelessly asks, “Oh, why? Some work stress?” and Catherine, rightfully unimpressed, goes, “No, because his mom also died.” Like, girl, you’re not the only one grieving! Overall, The Life List was just frustrating. The protagonist was entitled, the romance was forced, and the dialogue? Forgettable. The only thing worth mentioning about The Life List is… actually, I don’t even know. It had potential, but the entire movie felt dead—like something was missing. Maybe it was the acting, maybe it was the predictability of the story, or maybe both, but it just didn’t land. There was no real energy, no humor, no charm—just a forced narrative dragging itself to the finish line.

Dabba Cartel stands out for being a woman-oriented crime series without forcefully pushing a feminist agenda. The strength of the show lies in how it portrays women—not as perfect, idealized figures but as deeply flawed, multi-dimensional characters. Each woman has her own motivations: one craves control, another seeks respect within her community, one wants to prove it to herself that she’s a independent capable woman, one does it for her family, and even the police officer isn’t a tough, larger-than-life figure—she’s inexperienced, curious, and prone to mistakes. This layered approach makes the show feel refreshingly realistic. The writing cleverly avoids painting any character as a singular “strong woman.” Instead, it presents them with vulnerabilities, contradictions, and evolving personalities. Even Kashi, who appears untouchable at first, is revealed to be holding back parts of herself. Her power isn’t immediate or absolute—we see her regaining it gradually, hinting at a transformation yet to come. Structurally, the show follows a “slow descent into chaos” model similar to Breaking Bad. It starts small and spirals into deeper criminal entanglements. The use of irony is particularly strong—characters judge others for the very crimes they’re complicit in. Varuna condemns her husband’s involvement in selling drugs while being part of the same trade. The police and criminals share parallel moral conflicts. The most unassuming woman commits the first murder. These contrasts add depth to the storytelling. However, certain plot points feel forced. The reveal that Moushmi is someone’s mother felt unnecessary—it didn’t significantly impact the story. Some moments also stretch believability, especially how the women avoid getting caught despite their increasing involvement in crime. Additionally, while the concept of smuggling drugs through food packaging is interesting, it feels a bit derivative of Breaking Bad’s Gus and his chicken business. The series “Indianizes” these tropes well, but the inspirations are apparent. Despite its flaws, Dabba Cartel works because it explores crime through a distinctly female lens. Had the same story been about men, it would have felt like a typical gangster drama. The presence of women adds a different emotional weight—power struggles feel more personal, betrayals more cutting. While the show borrows from established crime narratives, it carves out its own space by focusing on women navigating a world that is both unfamiliar and eerily natural to them.