Richelle Diane Claros

I genuinely loved Nocebo. It’s a rare kind of film—smart, emotionally layered, and culturally grounded. As a viewer and critic, I was deeply impressed by how it blends psychological suspense with social relevance and cultural symbolism. The film’s title, which refers to the nocebo effect—where fear or negative belief leads to real harm—perfectly frames the story. What struck me most was how this theme is brought to life through powerful Filipino cultural symbols. The spoon, for example, is not just a prop but a deeply meaningful object in traditional Filipino healing practices. In the film, it becomes a symbol of memory, justice, and ancestral presence, showing how spiritual knowledge lives on in everyday tools. The ongo, a spirit figure from Filipino folklore, is also used thoughtfully—not just to scare, but to represent the weight of unresolved trauma and systemic injustice. I also appreciated the use of ritual objects like oil, thread, and chants, which are portrayed respectfully and serve as a reminder of the value of Indigenous healing and resistance. Even the dog, whose fate triggers the protagonist’s illness, acts as a spiritual warning—foreshadowing that buried truths are coming to the surface. The scenes involving fire, tied to the tragic factory fire in Diana’s past, are particularly powerful. Fire here becomes a symbol of both destruction and revelation—a haunting visual of the real-world exploitation behind the global fashion industry. All these symbols are woven together to create a film that’s not only engaging, but meaningful. Nocebo doesn’t rely on cheap horror thrills. Instead, it uses fear to uncover deep truths—about labor, guilt, colonial history, and healing. It’s intelligent, brave, and beautifully acted, especially by Chai Fonacier, whose performance carries both quiet rage and dignity. In my view, Nocebo deserves far more international recognition. It’s one of the most original and culturally conscious thrillers I’ve seen in years—bold in message, rich in symbolism, and unforgettable in execution.

We just finished watching Companion (2025) and let’s just say… it was not what we expected—and that’s exactly why we’re still thinking about it. Based on the trailer, we thought we were walking into a futuristic romance—maybe a gentle sci-fi film about a man falling in love with his AI partner. But within the first few minutes, it became clear: this wasn’t soft or sweet. It was creepy, intense, and psychologically disturbing. The trailer totally misleads you, but honestly, that’s part of the brilliance. Plot & Themes Without spoiling too much, the story revolves around Iris (played by Sophie Thatcher), who seems like the perfect girlfriend—until she discovers she was programmed to be that way. The movie quickly shifts into a dark exploration of control, free will, and what it means to be “made” for someone else. It asks: If your love is designed, is it even real? It’s haunting, powerful, and forces you to question modern relationships and technology. Visuals & Style The film has a strong film noir vibe—dark shadows, moody lighting, vintage aesthetics mixed with futuristic tech. It’s stylish and eerie. The music also adds a lot: soft synths that make even the quietest moments feel tense. It reminded us of Ex Machina with a bit of Black Mirror and Gone Girl thrown in. Our Final Thoughts This is not a movie you’ll casually forget. It sticks with you. It’s the kind of film you walk out of, sit in the car, and go “Wait… what did we just watch?” Then you talk about it all the way home. If you’re into psychological thrillers, slow burns, and stories that mess with your head—in a good way—Companion is definitely worth watching. Just be ready for something darker and deeper than the trailer suggests.