katie perryy

**“Dahil ako ang nagmahal, ako ang naghihintay... dahil ako ang mas nagmahal, ako lang ang naghihintay.”** Honestly, it did not even make me cry, but the premise is so relatable. There are simply certain things in life that, no matter how intensely we desire them, cannot be forced. When fundamental views and values fail to align, making things work becomes impossible. As Olivia Dean beautifully articulates in her song, “Back on your sofa, of course I’ll still care.” The affection does not simply vanish, but you cannot force someone to want the same things. But at the end of the day, it is entirely acceptable to choose happiness, embrace your freedom, and welcome the profound sense of solitude you have finally discovered within yourself.

**"But in his work, I become perfect."** I honestly did not expect Daniel Day-Lewis to be this handsome; it is actually quite a distraction. But seriously, the way he carries himself in this movie is so sophisticated, and the acting is top-tier from both leads. Vicky Krieps is amazing as Alma, bringing an "I can fix him" energy to a man who absolutely does not want to be saved. It is a fascinating exploration of a high-tension relationship defined by the collision of two worlds where Reynolds and Alma exist in entirely different spheres of personality and routine. Reynolds is a man of rigid structure who treats his life like a precise architectural project, desperately wanting to be the strong guy in total control of his environment. Alma, on the other hand, is the ultimate disruption who refuses to be shrunk into the background; she just wants to spend time with him and have a lived-in connection that isn't dictated by his work. The power struggle is insane because he tries to maintain this dominant persona while she finds extreme, twisted ways to finally get him to sit still and just be with her. I’m crying, they actually look so good together. Both are equally toxic and somehow their chemistry is still so good; it’s twisted but magnetic. They still made it work because they truly love each other, finding a symbiotic balance through a very specific and dark kind of care. I will always be drawn to films about fashion or anything with this kind of aesthetic. The way the textures of the fabric, the silk, and the meticulous stitching are captured makes the craftsmanship feel like its own character. Paul Thomas Anderson’s direction and writing turn this story into a beautiful, atmospheric, and deeply weird look at how some people find perfection through total surrender and controlled chaos.

Imagine George Clooney and Meryl Streep as your parents, insane. Their voices bring such a sophisticated yet witty energy to Mr. and Mrs. Fox that you almost forget you are watching a family of literal foxes. Clooney has that smooth charm that makes his mid-life crisis actually fun to follow, while Streep (my goat) is the perfect, grounded balance as the artistic heart of the home. The film is a visual masterpiece, where warm, autumnal colors and meticulous set design turn every frame into a curated storybook come to life. It is not just about the heist against Boggis, Bunce, and Bean; it is a deeply human story about identity and the struggle between our civilized selves and our natural instincts. Every character feels distinct and lived in from the eccentric and spacey Kylie and the effortlessly talented Kristofferson to the menacing Rat and especially Ash, who is just trying to find his own footing in the family. The dialogue is sharp and fast-paced, carrying a signature dry humor that makes the experience just as much for adults as it is for kids. This whimsical and stylish approach gives the stop-motion craftsmanship a tangible soul that breathes life into every frame, making it much more than just a medium. It is an incredibly heartfelt movie that earns every bit of the "fantastic" in its title through sheer charm and personality. At its core, the film captures the beauty of finding a sense of belonging within a chaotic family dynamic. It serves as a visually comforting, witty, and soulful look at how even the wildest animals eventually dig out their own space in the world.

**"Because in a musical, nothing dreadful ever happens."** To answer the question: yes, it is a musical where you get to hear Björk sing, but it’s definitely not the kind of musical that leaves you feeling good. It is the ultimate anti-musical, where each song acts as a desperate, flickering shield against a reality that is nothing but dreadful. Unlike traditional musicals where the world bursts into song, here, the music only exists in Selma's head as a defense mechanism against her own trauma and the literal darkness closing in on her. The grainy format and shaky camerawork gave it a raw, documentary feel that made every heartbreaking moment feel terrifyingly real. This visual rawness strips away any cinematic comfort, forcing us to witness the systemic cruelty faced by immigrants who are often misunderstood and easily discarded by a foreign legal system. It’s frustrating to watch her do everything she can to provide for her son, Gene, only to be treated so wrong by the system and people she trusted. Thank God for Kathy and Jeff, the only ones who saw her humanity through it all. What makes it even more of a fucking hell is seeing how pure Selma’s soul is, which stands in such painful contrast to how the world treats her. She is so kind and selfless, yet she is met with nothing but cruelty and exploitation. The reason she wanted Gene was simply because she wanted to hold a little baby in her arms, and that realization is absolutely the end for me. It is such a pure, primal human desire that ended up carrying a fatal price. The last 30 minutes are absolutely devastating. Her refusal to reopen her case feels like a massive injustice, but it highlights her terrifyingly beautiful resolve: she would rather die in the dark than let Gene lose his sight. That scene of her singing "My Favorite Things" through the vent is actual hell; it turns a symbol of comfort into something claustrophobic and haunting. The final moments are just a soul-crushing image—the image of her holding Gene’s eyeglasses, feeling them one last time, represents the entire reason she endured the unendurable. It is raw and agonizing because it shows that a mother’s love isn't just a sentiment—it's a total, soul-crushing sacrifice. I haven’t cried this much in a while; I was literally crying on my desk. Björk carries this film with a vulnerability that feels almost dangerous to watch. I’m glad I watched this movie. I get why they say it is one of the greatest films of 2000s, but I never want to experience this level of depressing state again. I feel so sick; I watch movies to feel something, and God, this shattered me so much that once is definitely enough. It is a masterpiece that you only watch once, because some tragedies are too real to survive twice.