Democrit

The plot has some psychological depth, but the purple-pink color grading with those dark scenes where you can barely see anything seems to mostly hide the flaws in set design and VFX. The cinematography is decent, sometimes creative. The ending is trashy though - I mean, performing brain surgery through a temple scratch? That's just ridiculous. No real ideas or deeper meaning here, just a sci-fi flick. Not bad for a rapper-turned-director.

I was hoping for a psychological detective story with mysterious disappearances that would pull you into this eerie atmosphere, but the director just focused on flashbacks and rehashing ideas from 'Life' (2017). Such a shame. The acting was solid though - I believed them. Eiza Gonzalez really showed she can handle dramatic highs and lows of human emotion. Aaron Paul did well with his role, but his character didn't actually influence anything or add meaning to the story.

Honestly, it was exhausting trying to watch and make out what's happening in that dark purple palette. I get that this visual style is the director's musical aesthetic and creative vision, but it just makes following the plot more tiring - this isn't a music video, it's supposed to be a movie.

This is not a review but rather a reaction to this melancholic cinematic comic that swallowed $320 million. It's a black hole that consumed not only dollars but also interesting ideas-such as loneliness and the loss of loved ones, how technology will change humanity, and how humanity manifests itself. Instead, we get sword-wielding 'nutcase' robots, robots in wheelchairs spitting out baseballs, Chris Pratt with his ridiculous wig, Stanley Tucci playing a stereotypical tech villain, and Giancarlo Esposito, whose dramatic talent was locked inside a small drone display, with his moral awakening unjustifiably illustrated.

Millie Bobby Brown, who through no fault of her own almost always overacts, because the script fails to develop the emotional connection with her on-screen brother, forcing her to painfully squeeze out sadness and suffering in front of a green screen without other actors, as all the robots were added in post-production. And all this vulgar tastelessness left the impression of a mediocre one-time watch.

Before watching, I hoped to relax, enjoy the adventures and humor, and I must admit, all of that was present in the middle of the film. I even caught myself thinking, 'Am I actually watching a good genre movie?' Yes, the second act is the most engaging, featuring bright adventures, a good sense of humor, unexpected plot twists, and the amusing duo of a smuggler and the robot 'Germ,' who saved a soldier's life, leading to their friendship. The brave sister searching for her brother while leading a giant walking head, the cold-blooded robot hunter pursuing the charming team of adventurers-all of this genuinely sparked interest and smiles. However, the beginning and the ending severely undermined this promising and vibrant adventure, which, in my subjective opinion, ultimately felt like a primitive, clichéd cinematic comic with simplified characters and underdeveloped ideas.

The film has one standout strength-its visual style, with its creepily cute robots. But the script is archaic, the characters are one-dimensional, and all the themes introduced in the film are left undeveloped. The creators forget about them, instead shoving caricature robots with swords riding around in wheelchairs at the audience. This is a cinematic cripple, with its sharp themes cut short and its characters just as underdeveloped. It's a big-budget theater of freakish metal scraps that feels like a kids' movie but not for kids-a paradoxical sensation. The film comes off as a mutilated, chopped-up Frankenstein with mismatched parts, creaking and wheezing but still showing signs of life. It exploits the audience's sense of compassion to force empathy, but it does so in a superficial and predictable way. Chris Pratt's hairstyle looks like a wig, so unnatural that you keep expecting it to start talking, jump off his head, and burst into hysterical laughter. Millie Bobby Brown, despite her efforts, comes off as fake, just like her emotional connection with Woody Norman. The film had a promising idea with huge potential for sci-fi and human drama, but it ends up feeling like a run-of-the-mill flick with a few saving graces: the original visuals, some rare and well-placed humor, and the most memorable character-the robot Germ.

49 minutes of the film-that's my limit, and here's why: A boring exposition, eggs as a meaningless image on which the plot is built. Everything boils down to a stream of sadism and humiliation, none of which sparks the slightest interest in their causes. The viewer is presented with a fact: here they are-two sadistic abusers, whose cruelty, with every plot twist, fills the space with cynical revenge, piercing the fourth wall. Why break it? (When the anti-hero turns to the camera and addresses the viewer.) The answer is obvious: it's a caricatured mockery of the genre, but the story relies on simple torture. This is a nerve-wracking theater of madness, where lunatics, freed from straitjackets, satisfy their senseless desires for the sake of an experiment devoid of innovation. The sole purpose of this experiment is to shock and create the illusion of alternative cinema, built on banal cruelty 'just because.' The author vainly tries to expose bourgeois ugliness but instead portrays an ordinary family without proving their vices. Immersed in hatred for the rich, he fails to find arguments for why they should be hated. Maybe these people became wealthy through hard work? Who knows! The author instills hatred for an unfortunate family because of their love for golf-isn't that absurd? How can you hate people for a hobby that doesn't harm others? This academic tyranny of violence doesn't demand arguments; it's content with the imagination and will of the author, who strives to demonstrate absolute power. For what? For the pleasure of torment? Or is it shock value for the sake of shock value, a critique of cruelty drowned in its own meaninglessness?