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Fight Club is a film that many have elevated to cult status, but for us it provokes more irritation than admiration. At its core, it's a story about a group of people who, instead of finding healthy ways to deal with their inner crises, plunge headlong into self-destruction. They methodically hurt themselves and everyone around them, while the film tries to present this as some profound philosophy of freedom and meaning.

In the end, there's no real depth-only the illusion of it. On the surface, everything looks stylish: slick visuals, a charismatic Brad Pitt, a moody atmosphere. But that's just the packaging. The content boils down to glorifying a masochistic, antisocial lifestyle. We're asked to admire people who mistake real rebellion for tearing everything apart, including themselves.

What's especially amusing is that this movie is often called a "man's film." In reality, it's more like a boy's fantasy of masculinity, where chaos and violence are mistaken for strength. There's nothing genuinely mature here-only the romanticizing of fists and destruction.

And if this film feels important to anyone, it's really closer to a teenage rite of passage: that first rush of "freedom" when everything seems allowed, when blood and chaos feel like proof of power. But with age, it becomes painfully clear there's no real idea behind it, no resolution-just empty bravado.

The worst part is that many genuinely treat Fight Club as an "icon of a generation." For us, it's more like a manifesto for people chasing meaning in chaos, though in reality there's no meaning, no answers, no solid philosophy-only emptiness dressed up in pseudo-wisdom. And that's the real danger of the film: it looks intelligent, but underneath it's nothing more than a glossy wrapper around senseless self-destruction.

We honestly don't understand why this film resonates with so many. Maybe it's the romanticized rebellion, maybe the illusion of depth-but in practice it feels like an overrated mess that works better as a collection of edgy quotes than as a complete story.

Once, my husband gave it a 6/10. After rewatching it together, we both agreed it only gets worse with time. A fair score now is no higher than 4/10. And even that feels generous, considering the movie essentially sells a flashy but utterly useless set of ideas.

A powerful war film. Epic, brutal, and deeply moving. These are the kinds of movies that deserve awards, not endless LGBTQ dramas about people searching for themselves. It's a deeply underrated masterpiece that combines grand spectacle with raw human emotion, leaving a lasting impression long after the credits roll.

NODE tries to present itself as an atmospheric 2D sci-fi game with a unique visual style and an intriguing setting - an abandoned soviet nuclear facility in Siberia. However, beneath that façade lies a failure: the game is a serious letdown when it comes to gameplay and controls.

The control system is a nightmare in itself. You don't control the robot directly - instead, you issue commands via a panel: move forward for a set number of seconds, jump, turn around. Every single action must be measured with pixel-perfect precision - tweaking the timing and sequence of commands just to get the robot to move somewhat correctly. There's no need for quick reflexes or platforming skills - all you do is stare at the interface. Just a 0.2-second mistake sends your robot falling into a pit. Not because you played badly, but because the game doesn't let you play - it forces you to guess how its clunky engine "thinks." It's a frustrating and poorly designed control scheme that turns basic movement into endless trial and error.

The game world is made up of several repetitive zones with similar architecture and visual design. This lack of variety quickly becomes tiresome and boring, as the game offers nothing fresh or engaging in terms of level design. Combined with the awful controls, it completely kills any motivation to keep playing this monotonous challenge.

The atmosphere in NODE leans heavily on Soviet symbolism - which, for many today, is not just a historical aesthetic, but a symbol of repression, authoritarianism, and violence. In the context of the modern world, where russia is openly waging an aggressive war against the sovereign state of Ukraine, this kind of stylization isn't just irritating - it provokes deep moral disgust. Using elements of Soviet legacy today means shamelessly nudging players toward immersing themselves in the image of a country historically responsible for war crimes and aggression. Instead of evoking immersion or respect, this aesthetic only intensifies the sense of alienation and discomfort.

There's really nothing to praise here. NODE is disappointing in both its gameplay and visual design - which, under current circumstances, feels less like an artistic choice and more like an unpleasant, morally problematic backdrop. Simply put: it's awful. 1/10.