nirh-2

Imagine a G20 summit where the world's top leaders gather - and somehow nobody outside notices bombs, hostages, or terrorists wandering around. Security, police, NSA/CIA? All on vacation, apparently. Viola Davis fights hard, but the script is so full of holes it should be called Swiss Cheese 20.

1/10 - action without logic.

If Universal Pictures wanted to prove that even big studios can greenlight nonsense, Hollow Road (2025) is their shining achievement.

The movie tries to sell itself as a "psychological mystery," but what you actually get is a parade of illogical hallucinations, random coincidences, and an ending so muddled that even the script seems confused about what just happened.

A father magically "finds" Alice under some overgrowth - or does he? Don't ask, the film doesn't care enough to explain.

The mother somehow knows exactly where to drive, based on overhearing a cryptic chat between Alice and an old woman. Psychic powers? Plot holes disguised as mysticism? Who knows.

And then there's the police car, conveniently stopping right in front of the supposed "answer" spot. Destiny? Laziness? Probably the latter.

Instead of suspense, I got a migraine trying to connect dots that simply weren't there. "Grief, guilt, fragility of perception"? Please. What I saw was sloppy writing masquerading as depth.

I don't hand out 1-star ratings lightly, but this one earned it. A hollow road indeed - and one that leads straight to a dead end.

Want me to make it even sharper, like dripping with irony ("maybe the writers were hallucinating too")?

Gowok: Kamasutra Jawa is not merely a cultural film-it is a Western fantasy wrapped in Javanese cloth, borrowing the name of tradition to sell sensation.

I entered the theater hoping to find a work faithful to the roots of Javanese history and customs. What I found was a film visually captivating and praised by the media for its boldness, yet weak at its narrative core. Brilliant cinematography, strong acting, and stunning production design-none of these could conceal its betrayal of cultural authenticity.

The film chooses to depict premarital love through a series of kissing scenes, intimate sitting together, and even sexual intercourse before marriage, as if these were common practices in mid-20th century Javanese society. The reality was far different. At that time, meetings between men and women before marriage were strictly governed by unggah-ungguh (etiquette), taboos, and family customs. Relationships developed slowly through formal channels, not through sly seduction or instant Netflix-style romance.

It is true that the gowok tradition once existed-but here, it is reimagined merely as a backdrop for visual foreplay, rather than as a window into its social context. Traditional costumes and authentic sets are nothing more than "thick makeup" masking the true face of the story.

This critique is not about forbidding creativity. Art has the right to be free, but when portraying cultural heritage, responsibility toward historical truth is part of its integrity. Gowok: Kamasutra Jawa may succeed as commercial entertainment, but it fails as a work meant to safeguard the dignity and authenticity of Javanese culture. It stands as proof that visual beauty can be the subtlest weapon for disguising historical distortion.