Apireon
Joined Aug 2011
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Apireon's rating
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Apireon's rating
The Conjuring: Last Rites marks the final chapter of a franchise that has shaped mainstream horror for over a decade. While it doesn't reach the heights of the original Conjuring or its powerful sequel, it's still a notable improvement over the underwhelming third part. The film brings back the haunted-house tone and unsettling atmosphere that fans have missed, but it also reminds us that this formula might be nearing its expiration.
The film's strongest asset, once again, is Vera Farmiga. Her portrayal of Lorraine Warren is the emotional anchor of the series, and in Last Rites, she gives one of her most committed performances. She brings a quiet intensity that adds gravitas to even the most familiar story beats. Patrick Wilson, as Ed Warren, also holds his ground and the chemistry between the two is as compelling as ever. The decision to focus more on the Warrens this time around pays off. It feels more personal and intimate, and it gives the couple a proper farewell.
The story, while competently told, doesn't offer anything particularly new. A cursed object, a lurking demon, and escalating supernatural events form the core once again. There's no real unifying evil or thematic thread that holds the climax together, which makes the ending feel less powerful than it could have been. The tension is built well in places, and the cinematography creates moments of genuine dread. The use of camera movement and light is particularly effective in a few key scenes, adding texture to the familiar haunted-house setup.
There are some truly creepy moments scattered throughout the film. Jumpscares are executed with precision and used sparingly enough to be effective. The horror here feels more grounded and restrained, which makes the scares more relatable. That said, there are stretches in the film that drag a little. The pacing isn't always tight, and a few scenes feel like filler rather than meaningful progression.
As a conclusion to the series, Last Rites plays it safe. It does not innovate or challenge the genre, but it refines what the franchise has always done best. Still, the high watermark remains The Conjuring and The Conjuring 2, both of which balanced storytelling, atmosphere, and emotional stakes with near perfection. Annabelle: Creation also deserves mention for being one of the few spin-offs that truly elevated the source material. Compared to those films, Last Rites lacks a bit of soul, but it is clearly made with care and respect for the world James Wan created.
Fans of the franchise will appreciate the return to classic haunted-house horror, and the central performances give the film a warmth that helps smooth over its narrative shortcomings. It is not the most memorable entry, but it is certainly a satisfying, if modest, ending to a once-groundbreaking horror universe.
The film's strongest asset, once again, is Vera Farmiga. Her portrayal of Lorraine Warren is the emotional anchor of the series, and in Last Rites, she gives one of her most committed performances. She brings a quiet intensity that adds gravitas to even the most familiar story beats. Patrick Wilson, as Ed Warren, also holds his ground and the chemistry between the two is as compelling as ever. The decision to focus more on the Warrens this time around pays off. It feels more personal and intimate, and it gives the couple a proper farewell.
The story, while competently told, doesn't offer anything particularly new. A cursed object, a lurking demon, and escalating supernatural events form the core once again. There's no real unifying evil or thematic thread that holds the climax together, which makes the ending feel less powerful than it could have been. The tension is built well in places, and the cinematography creates moments of genuine dread. The use of camera movement and light is particularly effective in a few key scenes, adding texture to the familiar haunted-house setup.
There are some truly creepy moments scattered throughout the film. Jumpscares are executed with precision and used sparingly enough to be effective. The horror here feels more grounded and restrained, which makes the scares more relatable. That said, there are stretches in the film that drag a little. The pacing isn't always tight, and a few scenes feel like filler rather than meaningful progression.
As a conclusion to the series, Last Rites plays it safe. It does not innovate or challenge the genre, but it refines what the franchise has always done best. Still, the high watermark remains The Conjuring and The Conjuring 2, both of which balanced storytelling, atmosphere, and emotional stakes with near perfection. Annabelle: Creation also deserves mention for being one of the few spin-offs that truly elevated the source material. Compared to those films, Last Rites lacks a bit of soul, but it is clearly made with care and respect for the world James Wan created.
Fans of the franchise will appreciate the return to classic haunted-house horror, and the central performances give the film a warmth that helps smooth over its narrative shortcomings. It is not the most memorable entry, but it is certainly a satisfying, if modest, ending to a once-groundbreaking horror universe.
Aked Gun (2025) left me with mixed feelings. As a huge fan of the original trilogy, I went in curious but cautiously optimistic. The film certainly delivers some laughs and a few moments that genuinely channel the spirit of the classic Zucker-Abrahams-Zucker era, but overall, it doesn't quite recapture the anarchic brilliance of the originals. My rating lands at a solid 6 out of 10, which reflects a mildly entertaining but ultimately forgettable reboot.
Liam Neeson is undeniably a phenomenal actor, but comedy isn't his natural habitat. While he clearly gives it his all and deserves credit for his commitment, his timing and delivery often feel a bit too stiff or self-conscious. He tries hard to embody the absurdity of a Frank Drebin-type role, but the effortless charm of Leslie Nielsen is hard to match. There are moments when his deadpan works, but overall, it never quite clicks the way it should.
What did surprise me in a positive way was Pamela Anderson. I didn't expect much, but she brings a self-aware, playful energy to her scenes. Her comedic timing, particularly in the musical sequence, caught me off guard in a good way. She's no scene-stealer, but she fits better in this world than I had anticipated.
Visually, the film looks slick. It's well-shot, with bright and clean visuals that match the tone of a modern studio comedy. The pacing is snappy, and the gags come quickly. Some hit the mark, especially the wordplay and sillier absurd moments that harken back to the franchise's roots. However, many jokes feel like they've been recycled or telegraphed too far in advance. There's also a tendency for the plot to veer into ridiculousness not in service of the comedy, but just for the sake of escalation. A simpler story might have helped the film stay more grounded in its humor.
It's a decent attempt, and fans of slapstick will find moments to enjoy, but it lacks the razor-sharp absurdity and perfect comedic casting that made the originals timeless. One critic put it well when they said the film is like a tribute band that plays all the right notes but lacks the magic of the real thing.
All in all, this reboot isn't a disaster, but it's also not the big comedic return I was hoping for. If you love slapstick and go in with lowered expectations, there's some fun to be had. But for me, it was more of a chuckle than a belly laugh. I'll be sticking with the originals when I need a real laugh.
Liam Neeson is undeniably a phenomenal actor, but comedy isn't his natural habitat. While he clearly gives it his all and deserves credit for his commitment, his timing and delivery often feel a bit too stiff or self-conscious. He tries hard to embody the absurdity of a Frank Drebin-type role, but the effortless charm of Leslie Nielsen is hard to match. There are moments when his deadpan works, but overall, it never quite clicks the way it should.
What did surprise me in a positive way was Pamela Anderson. I didn't expect much, but she brings a self-aware, playful energy to her scenes. Her comedic timing, particularly in the musical sequence, caught me off guard in a good way. She's no scene-stealer, but she fits better in this world than I had anticipated.
Visually, the film looks slick. It's well-shot, with bright and clean visuals that match the tone of a modern studio comedy. The pacing is snappy, and the gags come quickly. Some hit the mark, especially the wordplay and sillier absurd moments that harken back to the franchise's roots. However, many jokes feel like they've been recycled or telegraphed too far in advance. There's also a tendency for the plot to veer into ridiculousness not in service of the comedy, but just for the sake of escalation. A simpler story might have helped the film stay more grounded in its humor.
It's a decent attempt, and fans of slapstick will find moments to enjoy, but it lacks the razor-sharp absurdity and perfect comedic casting that made the originals timeless. One critic put it well when they said the film is like a tribute band that plays all the right notes but lacks the magic of the real thing.
All in all, this reboot isn't a disaster, but it's also not the big comedic return I was hoping for. If you love slapstick and go in with lowered expectations, there's some fun to be had. But for me, it was more of a chuckle than a belly laugh. I'll be sticking with the originals when I need a real laugh.
Weapons (2025) was exactly the kind of surprise I had been hoping for. Going into it, I only knew the basics: a mysterious disappearance, an ensemble cast, and a trailer that hinted at something fresh and unsettling. What I got was a remarkably atmospheric and tightly directed mystery thriller that kept me guessing right up to the final scenes. My 9 out of 10 rating comes not from a single standout element, but from the complete, immersive experience the film delivers.
The episodic structure works beautifully. Each chapter reveals another piece of the puzzle while keeping the bigger picture tantalizingly out of reach. I loved how little was explained upfront. The film trusts the viewer to follow the threads, and that trust pays off. The story unfolds with deliberate pacing that rewards attention and patience, building suspense in a way that is gripping rather than exhausting.
Josh Brolin delivers one of his most quietly powerful performances in years. His presence brings gravity to every scene without needing much dialogue. Judi Greer is equally impressive, playing her character with a mix of emotional restraint and raw intensity. Together, they ground the film in something deeply human. The rest of the ensemble cast adds texture and variety without ever pulling focus from the central mystery.
Visually, Weapons is stunning. The cinematography leans into shadow, reflection, and negative space, creating a mood that hovers between dread and melancholia. The sound design is subtle but purposeful, and the musical cues are perfectly placed to amplify emotion without overwhelming it. Every frame feels meticulously composed, but never in a way that draws attention to itself. The restraint in style matches the restraint in storytelling.
There are moments of sudden violence that genuinely shocked me. Not because they were extreme, but because they came from a place of narrative truth. When the film erupts, it earns it. And despite the darkness, the film never feels hopeless. It is about trauma, yes, but also about the desperate search for understanding and connection in the aftermath.
Critics who gave it similar ratings have highlighted the film's originality in reassembling familiar thriller components into something that feels fresh. One reviewer described it as a hybrid of Prisoners and Zodiac, and I think that comparison is fair. Like those films, Weapons lingers in your mind long after it ends, not because of what it shows, but because of how it makes you feel while watching.
In a year full of genre reboots and formulaic streaming content, Weapons stands out as one of the rare thrillers that dares to be intelligent, slow-burning, and emotionally resonant. I would absolutely recommend it to anyone who enjoys character-driven mysteries that unfold like a puzzle. Just be prepared to sit with the discomfort. That is part of what makes it so rewarding.
The episodic structure works beautifully. Each chapter reveals another piece of the puzzle while keeping the bigger picture tantalizingly out of reach. I loved how little was explained upfront. The film trusts the viewer to follow the threads, and that trust pays off. The story unfolds with deliberate pacing that rewards attention and patience, building suspense in a way that is gripping rather than exhausting.
Josh Brolin delivers one of his most quietly powerful performances in years. His presence brings gravity to every scene without needing much dialogue. Judi Greer is equally impressive, playing her character with a mix of emotional restraint and raw intensity. Together, they ground the film in something deeply human. The rest of the ensemble cast adds texture and variety without ever pulling focus from the central mystery.
Visually, Weapons is stunning. The cinematography leans into shadow, reflection, and negative space, creating a mood that hovers between dread and melancholia. The sound design is subtle but purposeful, and the musical cues are perfectly placed to amplify emotion without overwhelming it. Every frame feels meticulously composed, but never in a way that draws attention to itself. The restraint in style matches the restraint in storytelling.
There are moments of sudden violence that genuinely shocked me. Not because they were extreme, but because they came from a place of narrative truth. When the film erupts, it earns it. And despite the darkness, the film never feels hopeless. It is about trauma, yes, but also about the desperate search for understanding and connection in the aftermath.
Critics who gave it similar ratings have highlighted the film's originality in reassembling familiar thriller components into something that feels fresh. One reviewer described it as a hybrid of Prisoners and Zodiac, and I think that comparison is fair. Like those films, Weapons lingers in your mind long after it ends, not because of what it shows, but because of how it makes you feel while watching.
In a year full of genre reboots and formulaic streaming content, Weapons stands out as one of the rare thrillers that dares to be intelligent, slow-burning, and emotionally resonant. I would absolutely recommend it to anyone who enjoys character-driven mysteries that unfold like a puzzle. Just be prepared to sit with the discomfort. That is part of what makes it so rewarding.
