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As the opening chapter of the trilogy that concludes Kimetsu no Yaiba, Infinity Castle arrives with immense anticipation from fans around the world. The film immediately plunges viewers into Muzan's domain-a colossal labyrinth that is both majestic and menacing-where the Hashira, Tanjiro, and their allies must fight a life-or-death battle.

Visual spectacle and explosive action Ufotable once again proves its mastery of animation. The Infinity Castle is brought to life as a vast, ever-shifting space where every frame feels like a moving painting. Battles are rendered with fluid camerawork, seamlessly blending 2D artistry and CGI. Highlights such as Shinobu's duel with Doma, and the fierce clash of Tanjiro and Giyu against Akaza, are not only breathtaking in scale but also carry deep emotional weight.

Emotional depth and tragic backstories The film goes beyond action by exploring the inner struggles of its antagonists. Akaza, in particular, emerges as a tragic centerpiece. His flashbacks reveal a human past marked by love and devastating loss, reframing him as more than a merciless demon. His conflict with Tanjiro and Giyu becomes more than a battle of strength-it is a poignant confrontation between opposing destinies.

Spoiler Alert The film does not shy away from heavy losses. Shinobu sacrifices herself in the battle against Doma, turning her poison-infused body into a final weapon. This allows Kanao and Inosuke to finish him off in one of the most shocking twists of the film. Meanwhile, Tanjiro and Giyu face Akaza in a relentless fight. Akaza's flashbacks deliver both rage and sorrow, and his final dissolution into light stands as one of the most moving moments in the entire series.

The IMAX experience - immersion at its peak On a standard screen, Infinity Castle is already overwhelming, but in IMAX it becomes transcendent. The castle's shifting architecture expands across the massive frame, pulling the audience into its maze-like depths. High-speed battles gain unparalleled clarity, while immersive surround sound makes every clash of swords and every roar feel immediate and visceral. The IMAX format transforms the film into not just a viewing experience, but an engulfing battlefield.

Historic box-office success Upon release in Japan, the film broke opening-weekend records, earning over ¥7 billion in just four days, surpassing even several mainstream blockbusters. Within weeks, it rose into the top tier of Japanese box-office history, reaffirming Demon Slayer's global dominance and solidifying anime as a force that can compete head-to-head with Hollywood productions.

Flaws that remain Despite its triumphs, the film is not without shortcomings. Frequent flashbacks sometimes disrupt the pacing, especially in the middle act. Certain editing choices leave the structure less cohesive than ideal. And as the first part of a trilogy, Infinity Castle cannot stand fully on its own, functioning more as setup than as a self-contained story.

Conclusion Demon Slayer: Infinity Castle is both grand and heartbreaking-a film that opens the final saga with breathtaking battles, devastating sacrifices, and moments of emotional resonance that linger long after the credits roll. Viewed in IMAX, it becomes a total cinematic experience, immersing audiences directly into the chaos of battle. While some pacing issues remain, this is an essential chapter for fans and a powerful promise that the saga will end on a scale worthy of its legacy.

Vietnamese cinema has long explored the theme of war, but few films have approached it with the scale, precision, and emotional resonance of The Tunnels: Sun in the Shadows. Directed by Bui Thac Chuyen, this film not only reconstructs a brutal chapter of Vietnamese history but also boldly asserts that Vietnam is capable of producing war films with both artistic integrity and cinematic ambition.

When the setting becomes the protagonist

Inspired by the Cu Chi tunnel system during the Vietnam War, the film takes place in 1967-one of the war's most intense years. However, the true protagonist here is not a person, but the tunnels themselves: a claustrophobic, living ecosystem beneath the ground. Through tight, shadow-filled cinematography and minimal lighting, the audience does not simply observe life underground-they inhabit it, feeling the heat, the tension, and the ever-present fear.

There are no long expositions or forced monologues. Instead, the film tells its story through images and silence: sweaty faces, rushed meals, and hushed conversations drowned out by planes overhead. The director trusts the audience to understand fear and resilience through breath, glances, and stillness.

Deliberate pacing with emotional weight

The first half of the film unfolds slowly, immersing viewers in the daily rhythms of tunnel life. Some may find the pacing subdued, but it is a deliberate choice-to portray the quiet persistence and fragile humanity of soldiers living beneath the soil. When the enemy's incursion begins, the tempo shifts, yet the film avoids turning into an action spectacle. Even the combat scenes are crafted with clarity and restraint, maintaining emotional resonance over spectacle.

Complex characters with moral ambiguity

Beyond the tunnels, three central characters anchor the narrative: Commander Bay Theo (played by Thai Hoa), engineer Tu Dap (Quang Tuan), and fighter Ba Huong (Thu Anh). Each represents a different facet of wartime survival: Bay Theo is gruff yet introspective, Tu Dap is intelligent but emotionally volatile, and Ba Huong is both courageous and vulnerable.

Crucially, the film does not idealize its characters. They make mistakes, carry flaws, and experience moments of fear. But it is precisely their imperfections that make their courage meaningful. Their humanity emerges not from their heroism but from their internal conflict.

Minor flaws, major impact

Despite its strengths, the film has a few shortcomings. The tunnel structure may be disorienting for some viewers unfamiliar with the setting. Some secondary characters feel underdeveloped, and the second act occasionally loses focus due to uneven pacing and editing. Nevertheless, the emotional payoff of the final act is strong enough to outweigh these limitations.

Conclusion

The Tunnels: Sun in the Shadows is a bold and thoughtful entry in the landscape of Vietnamese war cinema. It avoids patriotic excess and sentimentality, choosing instead to portray war through an intimate, human lens. With restrained dialogue, immersive visuals, and emotional subtlety, the film demonstrates that Vietnam does not need to imitate Hollywood to create powerful cinema.

If Vietnamese cinema is to reach the global stage on its own terms, The Tunnels is strong evidence that it already has the tools, stories, and vision to do so.

Ne Zha has long been a familiar figure in Chinese mythology, often depicted as a rebellious deity or a child warrior. However, Ne Zha (2019) reimagines the character in a bold, emotional, and visually stunning animated film that goes beyond mere entertainment. It's a story about challenging fate, breaking free from prejudice, and choosing one's own path - even when the world has already decided who you are.

A destiny forged in injustice

The film begins with the cosmic birth of a powerful gem: the Chaos Pearl, which absorbs both spiritual and demonic energy. To prevent disaster, the gem is split into two: the Spirit Pearl and the Demon Orb. The Spirit Pearl is destined for a noble soul, but due to the betrayal of Shen Gongbao, the pearls are switched. As a result, Ne Zha - born to General Li Jing and Lady Yin - is reincarnated from the Demon Orb.

From the moment he is born, Ne Zha is labeled a monster. Feared, hated, and isolated by society, he responds with violence and mischief, not fully understanding why the world rejects him. Deep down, he just wants to be accepted. His reckless behavior hides a deep sense of loneliness - a child craving love in a world that denies it to him.

Prejudice as an invisible prison

The film tackles societal bias head-on. Dragons, despite their majestic strength, are treated as inferior creatures by the heavens. Shen Gongbao, though more diligent and talented than his peers, is denied recognition simply because he was born a beast. Ne Zha, though powerful and capable of good, is rejected for being created from darkness. The message is clear: in this world, origin matters more than merit - and that, in itself, is the greatest injustice.

Through its characters, the film reveals how prejudice poisons relationships and limits potential. It doesn't matter how hard someone works or how noble their intentions are. What matters, in the eyes of those in power, is where they come from - not who they are.

A choice beyond fate

But Ne Zha isn't a film about surrender. It's about resistance. Faced with a prophecy that he will die at age three, Ne Zha doesn't cower. Instead, he chooses to rewrite his story. His parents, especially his father Li Jing, lie to him - telling him he is the reincarnation of the Spirit Pearl - not to deceive him, but to give him hope. That hope, however fragile, plants the seed for change.

Ne Zha's transformation is not instant. He stumbles, causes harm, and is burdened by guilt. But through small choices - acts of kindness, moments of sacrifice - he gradually proves that who he is does not have to be what he was born to be.

His counterpart, Ao Bing, the dragon prince born of the Spirit Pearl, is trapped in his own struggle - torn between duty to his oppressed clan and his growing friendship with Ne Zha. Their eventual confrontation is not one of good versus evil, but of two souls wrestling with identity, loyalty, and the crushing weight of expectation.

Redemption through action

The film's climax is as symbolic as it is spectacular. As heaven's lightning descends to destroy the Demon Orb, Ne Zha and Ao Bing defy the gods together. They absorb the power of the Chaos Pearl, turning their perceived curse into strength. And in a final act of unity, they save not just themselves, but the people who once hated them.

Perhaps the most powerful moment is when the villagers of Chentang Pass - once terrified of Ne Zha - kneel before him. It's not just an act of gratitude. It is a collective apology, a recognition that they were wrong, and that change is possible - not only in Ne Zha, but in themselves.

Conclusion

Ne Zha (2019) is more than a high-grossing animated blockbuster. It is a deeply human story about identity, resilience, and redemption. It challenges viewers to look beyond surface judgments and reconsider what makes a person worthy of respect.

Destiny may be written in the stars, but how we face it - that is entirely up to us.