Opera, 1987 – ★★★★
Stylish and savage—this is Argento firing on all cylinders one last time, capped off by an unforgettable final act.
Stylish and savage—this is Argento firing on all cylinders one last time, capped off by an unforgettable final act.
Kicks off with gripping chaos but loses steam fast—what begins with promise stumbles into familiar, drawn-out territory.
An amazing idea taken to the next level by a truly unhinged performance from Jai Courtney.
Barely coherent—it exists, but that’s about the most you can say for it.
Uneven but packed with moments of brilliance—held together by Pedro Pascal, who steals every scene he’s in.
Grimy, gritty, and carried by an unhinged performance from Wings Hauser that demands attention—pure ’80s sleaze done right.
Chaotic yet ambitious, it bites off more than it can chew but earns points in my book for daring to go bigger and weirder.
Plods along without much spark, but the bizarre, unforgettable ending almost makes the wait worthwhile.
A step up in every way—still flawed, but shows real growth and vision. Curious to see where he goes next.
Strong atmosphere can’t make up for the sluggish pacing and overextended runtime. Not enough substance to justify the sprawl.
Disturbing, gripping, and elevated by a haunting turn from Sally Hawkins. Another chilling, masterful outing that lingers long after.
Slow and aimless, it builds to a reveal that feels more like a shrug than a payoff. Leaves you wondering why you bothered.
Starts strong with a unique hook, but the weight of its ambition trips it up. Still, it’s an interesting misstep.
Intriguing ideas and eerie style, but it meanders without ever hitting a satisfying stride. Feels like it’s missing a final act.