Prometheus is visually stunning and ambitious, diving into big questions about creation and humanity’s origins. The atmosphere and set design are top-notch, delivering a tense sci-fi experience. However, the plot sometimes gets muddled with confusing character motivations and pacing issues that slow down the momentum. While it’s not quite the perfect Alien prequel many hoped for, it’s still an intriguing watch for fans of atmospheric sci-fi with philosophical undertones.

This is one of those films that hits different depending on where you are in life. On the surface, it's about two women, one silent, one speaking but underneath, it’s this layered, eerie exploration of identity, masks, and emotional collapse.
It’s minimal but intense. Every shot feels loaded. The way Bergman uses close-ups? Unreal. It’s like the camera’s trying to peel the characters apart and maybe you, too. Not everything makes sense, but that’s kind of the point. It’s not here to explain itself, it just wants you to feel the crack.

Wild Strawberries quietly breaks your heart, not with tragedy, but with reflection. Bergman captures the ache of memory, the weight of missed connections, and the rare peace that comes from facing yourself honestly. It’s tender, melancholic, and full of grace. One of those rare films that doesn’t just move you, it humbles you.

I went in expecting a slow-burn detective thriller and got something way more disturbing. Cure doesn’t explain much, and that’s the point, it makes you sit with uncertainty. The horror isn’t in the murders, it’s in the why. The way Kurosawa uses silence, stillness, and suggestion is genius. You’re not terrified while watching, you’re unsettled after, when the quiet creeps in and you start questioning things.

One of the few horror films that made me feel genuinely disturbed, without ever raising its voice.