Muhammad Azis Ramadhan

This masked vigilante flick throws bombastic action, political grit, and cool costumes into a blender and hits "blend." You get stunning rooftop fight scenes, a chilling vision of future Britain, and Natalie Portman evolving from scaredy-cat to action heroine. Hugo Weaving's V steals the show with his creepy-cool voice and mysterious motives. It's not perfect, though. The story races past some characters, and the ending isn't exactly a surprise. But overall, "V for Vendetta" packs a punch with its fireworks, fury, and questions about fighting for freedom. Just put on your Guy Fawkes mask and brace for a wild ride.

Shane Black's 2016 neo-noir comedy serves up 70s swagger and Gosling-Crowe banter, but the overstuffed plot and uneven humor leave me with a cinematic hangover. Gosling's bumbling PI and Crowe's gruff enforcer are an oddly charming duo, but they can't salvage the film's juggling act of missing girls, conspiracies, and mobsters. Laughs land inconsistently, and the rushed climax fizzles rather than explodes. While the potential for hilarity is there, The Nice Guys ultimately feels like a missed opportunity. For Black's brand of humor and tolerance for uneven pacing, it might offer a few chuckles.

The film's true star is its food cinematography. Every dish, from Aoy's sizzling stir-fries to Chef Paul's meticulously plated creations, is a symphony of color and texture. Mongkolsiri's camera lingers lovingly over each ingredient, transforming the act of cooking into a sensual dance. This visual feast is further amplified by a pulsating soundtrack that perfectly captures the frenetic energy of the kitchen. The film's critique of class disparity adds a welcome bite to the narrative, leaving viewers with plenty to chew on long after the credits roll. Hunger takes its time building its narrative heat at some point. But once the tension finally boils over, the rivalry between Aoy and the tyrannical Chef Paul, played with chilling precision by Petchthai Wongkamlao, fails to fully satisfy. Their clashes lack the fiery intensity that could truly ignite the screen. Similarly, the film's ending, while emotionally resonant, leans heavily on familiar tropes, leaving viewers with a sense of déjà vu rather than a lingering aftertaste.

Once Upon a Time in Hollywood is like a chill drive down in a classic car. DiCaprio and Pitt shine as faded stardust and loyal sidekick, cruising through groovy tunes and 60s vibes. Tarantino's love for Hollywood is infectious, but things are soooo slow, ending's kinda weird. Still, the bromance, the nostalgia, and the whole fame-game trip are fun as hell. Not quite mind-blowing, but good flick.

I must say it was a thoroughly enjoyable experience from start to finish. The storyline was engaging, with a well-crafted plot that kept me hooked from the beginning. The characters were well-developed and relatable, each contributing to the overall narrative in a meaningful way.

Young Adult is a cringe-worthy comedy laced with barbed wire. Mavis is a train wreck, her every move a fresh disaster, but Theron plays her with such ferocious commitment, you can't help but watch through squinted fingers. Mavis may not be a character you root for, but her journey, messy and misguided, is a compelling one.

Is it perfect? Perhaps not. The cyclical structure can feel repetitive, the relentless forward momentum leaving questions unanswered. Yet, that's the film's brilliance. Run Lola Run isn't a neatly wrapped narrative; it's a puzzle, a visual tapestry woven from possibility and consequence. It forces us to confront the butterfly effect, the weight of each action, and the tantalizing notion of rewriting our paths.

Wes Anderson's distinct aesthetic takes center stage in Fantastic Mr. Fox, a visually stunning feast for the eyes. Each meticulously crafted frame bursts with his signature symmetrical compositions, pastel color palettes, and quirky charm.

Imagine being locked in a tiny cell for 15 years, no clue why. That's Dae-su, this dude who explodes with rage when he finally breaks free. He's on a mission of vengeance so brutal, it's like watching a tiger hunt with a hammer. The fight scenes are insane, a whirlwind of fists and fury that will make your jaw clench. But Oldboy ain't just about punches. It's a twisted mystery, each layer peeling back a crazier truth than the last. You'll be gasping, yelling at the screen, questioning everything you thought you knew. Just when you think you've figured it out, BAM! The rug gets yanked, leaving you dizzy and weirdly…satisfied? Yeah, let's go with weirdly satisfied. It's dark, violent, and might leave you needing a hug (or a stiff drink). But if you want a movie that punches your mind, kicks your emotions, and leaves you changed, Oldboy is your shot. It's a cinematic gut punch, a mind-bender you won't forget. Five stars? Nah, Oldboy deserves its own galaxy of awesome.

Forget biopics playing it safe. I, Tonya rips onto the screen like a triple axel with broken blades, a dazzling spectacle of dark humor, raw emotion, and heartbreaking truth. Margot Robbie channels Tonya Harding with ferocity, capturing her grit, vulnerability, and yes, even that infamous whack, without veering into caricature. Director Craig Gillespie masterfully weaves Tonya's story through layers of unreliable narration, blurring the lines between perception and reality. We see her rise from trailer park prodigy to Olympic hopeful, witnessing the brutal training, the constant criticism, and the suffocating shadow of her abusive mother (an unrecognizable Allison Janney, delivering a chillingly good performance). Here's where I, Tonya shines. It refuses to spoon-feed you a clean-cut villain or hero. You cringe at Tonya's choices, gasp at the injustices she faces, and ultimately question who gets to write the narrative of a life lived on the edge. The film doesn't shy away from the dark underbelly of figure skating, exposing the classism, sexism, and the ugly politics that lurked beneath the sequins and perfect smiles.