Mqno

Some films don't chase you, they wait. Quiet, patient, unsettling. Forgotten is one of those. It doesn't scream its truth. It whispers, doubts, rearranges your sense of reality without asking permission. There's a quiet confidence in Korean cinema, a way of pulling you in without spectacle. It doesn't need noise to be powerful. Just atmosphere, control, and a deep trust in the audience's emotions. Forgotten embraces that fully. The tension grows in what's not said, in what slowly unravels.

It builds tension not with action, but with stillness. Rooms that feel too quiet. Faces that say too little. And then suddenly, it breaks you, not with violence, but with clarity.

It's a reminder that the mind can lie to protect us, but the heart always remembers. And when the truth comes back, it doesn't heal, it haunts. Some memories aren't meant to be found. Some forgiveness comes too late.

A Twisted, haunting, delicate experience. One that absolutely deserves to be seen.

8.5/10.

Alex Garland is a director and writer who constantly proves that cinema can reach places we're not used to seeing. Most of his work reflects this ambition, even if it tends to be moody or challenging for some viewers. After his film last year about civil war, he returns once again to the field of war. But this time, there are no journalists and no political figures. This time, everything is based on the memoirs of a soldier, with each moment drawn from the painful reality he and his team lived through moment by moment. What made me even more excited is that the film is produced by one of the most respected independent studios in recent years A24. Everything pointed toward something that felt truly different.

From the very first minutes, you can tell you're entering a different kind of experience. It feels like a mission straight out of a Call of Duty game, but without the entertainment. Tension is present from the start, and the realism is suffocating. There are no patriotic speeches or heroic moments. Instead, we get confusion, disoriented people, and a mission that quickly falls apart. Everything is designed to make you feel like you're with them, not just watching. The story is simple. A unit gets trapped in Ramadi in the middle of chaos, trying to survive, but reality proves far harsher than expected. The film plays out in real time, with no cuts or flashbacks. Everything unfolds in front of you as if you're part of the team. This approach gives the film a strong sense of realism but also keeps you emotionally distant. You feel close to them physically but never fully connected. From another angle, the absence of the Iraqi side or any civilian presence affected my final impression. The story leaned heavily in one direction and missed a human layer that could have added more emotional weight.

Visually, it's clear Garland knew exactly what he wanted to achieve. Every shot feels intentional. The camera is always in the right place, close to the danger, close to the tension, capturing reactions before they happen. He lets the moment breathe. He doesn't cut for a perfect angle. Every decision is there to serve the feeling. The combat scenes are some of the strongest in the film, executed with calculated violence and shocking intensity. Multiple visual techniques are used, from shoulder-mounted shots that place you inside the fear to drone footage that gives you a claustrophobic view from above. But what elevates the film is the sound. There is no music, no breaks. Only the sound of gunfire, the silence before a blast, the breath of a trembling soldier, his screams, his confusion. The sound design is not just precise. It's the heart of the tension. It is a terrifying auditory experience and a strong contender in my opinion for Best Sound at the Oscars.

The performances were all convincing and grounded. Their reactions made me genuinely feel the fear and danger without any exaggerated drama. Just pure effort to deliver the emotions of the moment. And that's what the cast nailed completely.

In the end, this is not a film that tries to make you feel sorry or give you a perfect story. It wants you to feel the moment, to live inside it, and to understand that war is not about glory or waving flags. War is exhaustion, chaos, and loss, even when everything is done right. What truly elevates the experience is the execution, which is masterful on every technical level. Maybe the only shortcoming is in the writing, which could have given us more human depth. Still, this remains a unique and respectable war film that is absolutely worth watching. Garland continues to shine.

8/10.

On the surface, John Wick might seem like a simple story where a man loses his dog and sets off on a path of revenge. Some might dismiss the film at first glance, judging it by its straightforward premise. But once you dive into the behind-the-scenes journey, you realize that beneath that simplicity lies a hellish road filled with challenges. A tight budget, first-time directors, a lead actor insisting on doing all his own stunts with raw authenticity, and a production that took risks with every single frame. Everything pointed toward failure, yet the film endured and carved out its own legacy.

The documentary is honest, direct, and packed with moments that force you to reconsider everything. It reveals the pressure, the discipline, and the countless fragile details that could have fallen apart at any second. I already loved the franchise and considered it one of the strongest modern action sagas, but after watching this, my appreciation deepened. I now fully grasp the effort that went into making it as powerful as it is.

Watching behind-the-scenes content matters. It reveals what the camera alone can't show and makes you feel the real weight of every scene. Documentaries like this are important because they remind us that cinema isn't just about telling a story. Sometimes, it's a long journey of passion, struggle, and genuine intent, even if, on the outside, it looks like just another action blockbuster.