Movies: Last Movie You Watched and Rate it | New Year New thread

Nosferatu. There's a bit more meat on the bones (and obviously some of the sexual subtext in the original just becomes text now), but the plot is almost 1 for 1.
Why change the subtext then? Change just some of the names. Straight ass steal scenes from previous movies. Cast Depp just to flash titles. What a horrible performance. Imho it was walk out of Theater bad.
 
Why change the subtext then? Change just some of the names. Straight ass steal scenes from previous movies. Cast Depp just to flash titles. What a horrible performance. Imho it was walk out of Theater bad.
Why change the names?

Idk I didn't love Nosferatu but that's some odd shit to get hung up on.
 
Wicked was wicked...ly bad. I genuinely don't understand the critical acclaim it is currently receiving and I think it's going to age like milk. I was embarrassed while watching it, like it was made for babies. 3/10.
 
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The Girl with the Needle
(2024) Directed by Magnus von Horn 7B

With World War I ending, Karoline, a young seamstress in Copenhagen, suffers a series of misfortunes. Her disfigured husband comes home from the war when she thought that he was dead; she has an ill-judged affair with her boss that comes to a bad end; and she finds herself pregnant with no means of supporting the baby. She is befriended by Dagmar, a candy store owner, who helps girls like Karoline find a good home for their unwanted offspring. Later, Dagmar even takes Karoline on as a shop assistant. Slowly Karoline begins to have her doubts about just what happens to all of those babies.

Shot in gorgeous black and white and set in 1919, The Girl with the Needle has the look and feel of a silent film from the period before talkies came into existence. To further date the film, the squalor of the early century and the class divisions made evident give the narrative a sense of something Victor Hugo or Charles Dickens might have written about. As the movie progresses, though, it takes on the tone of a true crime drama as we learn more and more about the seemingly supportive Dagmar and her clouded motivations. The Girl with the Needle finally ends up becoming a horror movie, but then I started to realize that it had been a horror movie all along. I was just a little slow on the uptake. The film is essentially a minor work that is just perfectly constructed.

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The Cell

Still a cool movie to look at, still an underbaked actual storyline. I really need to get around to watching The Fall. Same director and I am told much more mesmerizing visuals.
 
Red Rooms / Les chambres rouges (dir. Pascal Plante, 2023)

There’s something inherently disturbing about our collective obsession with true crime, and Red Rooms takes that unease and cranks it up to an uncomfortable level. Pascal Plante’s psychological thriller plunges into the dark web of human depravity, exploring voyeurism, obsession, and the moral lines we’re willing to blur when no one’s watching. It’s a haunting premise, but the film’s execution doesn’t always stick the landing.

Juliette Gariépy delivers a chillingly understated performance as Kelly-Anne, a woman who is as enigmatic as she is unnerving. Her fixation on the trial of a serial killer, Ludovic Chevalier, is fascinating to watch, even as it becomes increasingly hard to understand what drives her. The ambiguity surrounding her character feels deliberate, but it’s also frustrating. Is she a victim of trauma? A thrill-seeker? Or just another voyeur in the true crime circus? The film never quite gives us an answer, and while that mystery adds to the tension, it leaves you wanting more.

Visually, Red Rooms is a cold, minimalist nightmare. The sterile courtroom scenes and claustrophobic shots of Kelly-Anne’s life create a bleak atmosphere that mirrors the moral void the film explores. It’s beautiful in its restraint, but that restraint sometimes holds it back. The lack of explicit violence might be a bold choice, forcing viewers to fill in the blanks, but it also robs the film of the visceral impact its premise promises.

Ultimately, Red Rooms is more interested in unsettling your mind than thrilling your senses, which works to its advantage—sometimes. It’s a fascinating character study and a grim reflection on true crime culture, but it doesn’t push far enough to feel truly unforgettable. A solid, thought-provoking watch, but not one I’ll rush to revisit.


 
Nosferatu (dir. Robert Eggers, 2024)

Sometimes, style isn’t enough to save a film. Robert Eggers’ Nosferatu is undeniably a technical marvel—a showcase of gothic production design, chilling cinematography, and a moody atmosphere so thick you could cut it with a stake. But beneath the surface of this highly polished reimagining lies a hollow experience, one that struggles to justify its existence beyond its aesthetic appeal. A real bore and a stinker if I've ever seen one.

Bill Skarsgård’s Count Orlok is creepy, sure, but his performance feels more like a collection of sinister stares and a laughable accent than a fully fleshed-out character. Lily-Rose Depp, as Ellen, spends most of her screen time looking terrified or melancholic, and while Nicholas Hoult’s Thomas has moments of intrigue, he’s saddled with a script that gives him little to do beyond react to the chaos around him. For a film so rooted in obsession and desire, the emotional core is shockingly thin.

Eggers’ love for the original Nosferatu and his devotion to atmospheric horror are clear, but the film lacks urgency. It’s a slow, brooding crawl that seems to confuse “deliberate pacing” with “dragging its feet.” The dialogue often feels stilted, and the narrative leans heavily on tropes that, while iconic in the 1922 original, now feel dated without significant reinterpretation.

There are glimmers of brilliance—the film’s eerie visual language is unforgettable. But the balance between reverence for the source material and offering something new tips too far toward the former. Instead of reinventing Nosferatu for a modern audience, Eggers delivers a film that feels like a shadow of what it could have been.

In the end, Nosferatu is a film that’s more admirable than enjoyable. It’s beautiful to look at, but that beauty comes at the expense of depth and engagement. Proof that if you have nothing new to add, don't touch the classics.

 
Nosferatu (dir. Robert Eggers, 2024)

Sometimes, style isn’t enough to save a film. Robert Eggers’ Nosferatu is undeniably a technical marvel—a showcase of gothic production design, chilling cinematography, and a moody atmosphere so thick you could cut it with a stake. But beneath the surface of this highly polished reimagining lies a hollow experience, one that struggles to justify its existence beyond its aesthetic appeal. A real bore and a stinker if I've ever seen one.

Bill Skarsgård’s Count Orlok is creepy, sure, but his performance feels more like a collection of sinister stares and a laughable accent than a fully fleshed-out character. Lily-Rose Depp, as Ellen, spends most of her screen time looking terrified or melancholic, and while Nicholas Hoult’s Thomas has moments of intrigue, he’s saddled with a script that gives him little to do beyond react to the chaos around him. For a film so rooted in obsession and desire, the emotional core is shockingly thin.

Eggers’ love for the original Nosferatu and his devotion to atmospheric horror are clear, but the film lacks urgency. It’s a slow, brooding crawl that seems to confuse “deliberate pacing” with “dragging its feet.” The dialogue often feels stilted, and the narrative leans heavily on tropes that, while iconic in the 1922 original, now feel dated without significant reinterpretation.

There are glimmers of brilliance—the film’s eerie visual language is unforgettable. But the balance between reverence for the source material and offering something new tips too far toward the former. Instead of reinventing Nosferatu for a modern audience, Eggers delivers a film that feels like a shadow of what it could have been.

In the end, Nosferatu is a film that’s more admirable than enjoyable. It’s beautiful to look at, but that beauty comes at the expense of depth and engagement. Proof that if you have nothing new to add, don't touch the classics.


Read
Nosferatu (dir. Robert Eggers, 2024)

Sometimes, style isn’t enough to save a film. Robert Eggers’ Nosferatu is undeniably a technical marvel—a showcase of gothic production design, chilling cinematography, and a moody atmosphere so thick you could cut it with a stake. But beneath the surface of this highly polished reimagining lies a hollow experience, one that struggles to justify its existence beyond its aesthetic appeal. A real bore and a stinker if I've ever seen one.

Bill Skarsgård’s Count Orlok is creepy, sure, but his performance feels more like a collection of sinister stares and a laughable accent than a fully fleshed-out character. Lily-Rose Depp, as Ellen, spends most of her screen time looking terrified or melancholic, and while Nicholas Hoult’s Thomas has moments of intrigue, he’s saddled with a script that gives him little to do beyond react to the chaos around him. For a film so rooted in obsession and desire, the emotional core is shockingly thin.

Eggers’ love for the original Nosferatu and his devotion to atmospheric horror are clear, but the film lacks urgency. It’s a slow, brooding crawl that seems to confuse “deliberate pacing” with “dragging its feet.” The dialogue often feels stilted, and the narrative leans heavily on tropes that, while iconic in the 1922 original, now feel dated without significant reinterpretation.

There are glimmers of brilliance—the film’s eerie visual language is unforgettable. But the balance between reverence for the source material and offering something new tips too far toward the former. Instead of reinventing Nosferatu for a modern audience, Eggers delivers a film that feels like a shadow of what it could have been.

In the end, Nosferatu is a film that’s more admirable than enjoyable. It’s beautiful to look at, but that beauty comes at the expense of depth and engagement. Proof that if you have nothing new to add, don't touch the classics.


An expertly gift wrapped turd. Laughable movie.
 
Nosferatu (dir. Robert Eggers, 2024)

Sometimes, style isn’t enough to save a film. Robert Eggers’ Nosferatu is undeniably a technical marvel—a showcase of gothic production design, chilling cinematography, and a moody atmosphere so thick you could cut it with a stake. But beneath the surface of this highly polished reimagining lies a hollow experience, one that struggles to justify its existence beyond its aesthetic appeal. A real bore and a stinker if I've ever seen one.

Bill Skarsgård’s Count Orlok is creepy, sure, but his performance feels more like a collection of sinister stares and a laughable accent than a fully fleshed-out character. Lily-Rose Depp, as Ellen, spends most of her screen time looking terrified or melancholic, and while Nicholas Hoult’s Thomas has moments of intrigue, he’s saddled with a script that gives him little to do beyond react to the chaos around him. For a film so rooted in obsession and desire, the emotional core is shockingly thin.

Eggers’ love for the original Nosferatu and his devotion to atmospheric horror are clear, but the film lacks urgency. It’s a slow, brooding crawl that seems to confuse “deliberate pacing” with “dragging its feet.” The dialogue often feels stilted, and the narrative leans heavily on tropes that, while iconic in the 1922 original, now feel dated without significant reinterpretation.

There are glimmers of brilliance—the film’s eerie visual language is unforgettable. But the balance between reverence for the source material and offering something new tips too far toward the former. Instead of reinventing Nosferatu for a modern audience, Eggers delivers a film that feels like a shadow of what it could have been.

In the end, Nosferatu is a film that’s more admirable than enjoyable. It’s beautiful to look at, but that beauty comes at the expense of depth and engagement. Proof that if you have nothing new to add, don't touch the classics.


This pretty much goes with my experience. Absurdly beautiful visuals, but just... slow. Idk the original is like 70-75 minutes? And i think this one comes in a little over 2 hours without adding any plot. Obviously dialogue is part of that but... idk.

I still never watched The Northman and I feel that's the Eggers movie I'm most likely to vibe with but at least as of now I view him as kind of a goth Wes Anderson.
 

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