RanD-83
jul 2025 se unió
Te damos la bienvenida a nuevo perfil
Nuestras actualizaciones aún están en desarrollo. Si bien la versión anterior de el perfil ya no está disponible, estamos trabajando activamente en mejoras, ¡y algunas de las funciones que faltan regresarán pronto! Mantente al tanto para su regreso. Mientras tanto, el análisis de calificaciones sigue disponible en nuestras aplicaciones para iOS y Android, en la página de perfil. Para ver la distribución de tus calificaciones por año y género, consulta nuestra nueva Guía de ayuda.
Distintivos2
Para saber cómo ganar distintivos, ve a página de ayuda de distintivos.
Reseñas1
Clasificación de RanD-83
There are bad films. Then there are catastrophes. And then, at the bottom of the cinematic sewer, lies Beyond Limits: Into the ADHD Mind: Rising Above Failure - a film so insufferable, so deluded, and so utterly void of purpose, it makes you question how we, as a society, allowed it to exist.
This isn't a documentary. It's a 90-minute hostage situation.
Simon Blair, our self-appointed hero, takes us on a torturous expedition through the desert - not of sand, but of self-obsession. Armed with a half-baked ADHD diagnosis and the ego of a TED Talk addict, Blair transforms a generic endurance race into an unbearable, ego-stroking pity parade. You'll learn nothing about ADHD. You'll learn nothing about resilience. The only thing you'll learn is how long the human brain can endure pure cinematic suffering before it begs for mercy.
The film opens with slow-mo sand and some half-philosophical voiceover that sounds like it was generated by ChatGPT on a bad day. From there, it gets worse. Every line is drenched in melodrama, every shot screams "look at me", and every moment is so painfully contrived it feels like performance art for narcissists.
This film uses ADHD the way influencers use mental health hashtags: as a prop. There's no depth. No honesty. No effort to educate or illuminate. Just a man jogging through the desert, stopping every few minutes to remind you that he's "struggling," as if being tired while running in 40-degree heat is a unique revelation. You'd get more meaningful insight into ADHD from a cereal box.
And let's talk production. It's visually offensive. Recycled drone footage, randomly spliced crying montages, and a soundtrack so manipulative it should be illegal. It's like someone tried to shoot Lawrence of Arabia with an iPhone and no sense of shame.
This isn't just bad. It's embarrassing. It's the cinematic version of someone interrupting a support group to make it all about them. It's what happens when delusion meets a GoPro and a midlife identity crisis.
If this film was meant to inspire, it failed. If it was meant to inform, it failed. If it was meant to do anything other than make the audience regret every second of their lives they spent watching it - it failed. Spectacularly.
Final verdict?
Burn the footage. Apologize to the ADHD community. And for the love of cinema, never let this man near a camera again.
This isn't a documentary. It's a 90-minute hostage situation.
Simon Blair, our self-appointed hero, takes us on a torturous expedition through the desert - not of sand, but of self-obsession. Armed with a half-baked ADHD diagnosis and the ego of a TED Talk addict, Blair transforms a generic endurance race into an unbearable, ego-stroking pity parade. You'll learn nothing about ADHD. You'll learn nothing about resilience. The only thing you'll learn is how long the human brain can endure pure cinematic suffering before it begs for mercy.
The film opens with slow-mo sand and some half-philosophical voiceover that sounds like it was generated by ChatGPT on a bad day. From there, it gets worse. Every line is drenched in melodrama, every shot screams "look at me", and every moment is so painfully contrived it feels like performance art for narcissists.
This film uses ADHD the way influencers use mental health hashtags: as a prop. There's no depth. No honesty. No effort to educate or illuminate. Just a man jogging through the desert, stopping every few minutes to remind you that he's "struggling," as if being tired while running in 40-degree heat is a unique revelation. You'd get more meaningful insight into ADHD from a cereal box.
And let's talk production. It's visually offensive. Recycled drone footage, randomly spliced crying montages, and a soundtrack so manipulative it should be illegal. It's like someone tried to shoot Lawrence of Arabia with an iPhone and no sense of shame.
This isn't just bad. It's embarrassing. It's the cinematic version of someone interrupting a support group to make it all about them. It's what happens when delusion meets a GoPro and a midlife identity crisis.
If this film was meant to inspire, it failed. If it was meant to inform, it failed. If it was meant to do anything other than make the audience regret every second of their lives they spent watching it - it failed. Spectacularly.
Final verdict?
Burn the footage. Apologize to the ADHD community. And for the love of cinema, never let this man near a camera again.