Camilo, Mechas, Manu, Ana and Pipa are five friends going through that blended trance of intense unrest, astonishment, contained tenderness and manifested rage that is typical of the end of adolescence. They survive at the edges of a city, Medellin, that simultaneously attracts and excludes them, that lure them with promises but rejects them with hostility. Nevertheless, they want to embrace the city and fight against its logics of fear. Music, street art and friendship are their weapons of resistance, hoping for a rite of passage that could transform them into someone else.
One of the reasons I love watching movies is that, much like books, they serve as windows into other times and different places. Productions from around the world offer valuable insights into the history and culture of their respective countries. And just like literature, cinema can help us understand the present by showing us the past.
Despite its simple premise, “imagine being a woman,” the horror behind "Men" feels fueled by a hollow understanding of the insidiousness of misogyny.
Apatow’s latest film, The King of Staten Island, is no different. The movie tells the story of Scott (Pete Davidson), the 24-year-old son of a deceased firefighter who passed away when Scott was 7
The three themes of lessons learned from HBO Max's Station Eleven are the same as the pandemic: love, regret, and art.
A bumpy journey about revolution and family makes us feel fear, disgust, humor, and satisfaction.
