From the very first minutes, F1 makes it clear that it wants to grab you with the roar of the engines. Starting with Daytona, accompanied by that classic Florida radio station, is a brilliant touch that instantly pulls you into the racing world. Joseph Kosinski proves once again that he knows how to capture speed and danger. Just like in Top Gun: Maverick, he turns the races into an unforgettable visual spectacle. The camera hugs the track, the tires, and the drivers, creating a sense of vertigo rarely seen on screen. It’s not just technique: there’s storytelling in every overtake and every turn. Brad Pitt carries the film with magnetic presence. His character, a veteran with more wrinkles than illusions, works because the actor embraces age instead of hiding it. Watching him behind the wheel conveys both experience and risk. The supporting cast delivers, though it’s clear the film is built around him. The plot isn’t groundbreaking. Familiar tropes are everywhere—from the aging racer to the inevitable rivalries. Yet, the execution, with spectacular staging and relentless rhythm, keeps it all engaging. What matters here is the emotion, the tension of each race, and the adrenaline that spreads to the audience. What stands out is how the film balances spectacle with personal epic. It’s not just cars circling a track: it conveys the sacrifice, solitude, and fleeting glory of the sport. This is big-screen cinema, designed to be felt with booming sound and sheer scale. In the end, F1 doesn’t reinvent the genre, but it raises it to rare heights. It’s a film made to be enjoyed, with sequences that glue you to your seat and with Brad Pitt proving why he’s still a star. A movie that floors the accelerator from the start and never lets up.

Anna Kendrick makes her directorial debut with a film that blends true crime with a suspenseful thriller. The story hooks you from the start, not only because it’s based on real events, but also because it knows how to maintain tension through glances and silences. It’s not a masterpiece and it won’t go down in genre history, but it’s engaging enough to be worth watching. What’s most compelling is Kendrick’s double role: on screen, she still brings the freshness she’s known for, and behind the camera she proves to have the instincts to tell a story with steady pacing and without gratuitous excess. There’s a restraint in the direction that feels welcome, even when the film leans on some conventional turns. Daniel Zovatto, as the killer, steals several scenes with a disturbing and cold performance that contrasts with the empathy Kendrick’s character inspires. Their dynamic becomes the core of the film, even when the script occasionally meanders and loses momentum. The 1970s setting is well captured, with costumes and production design that immerse the viewer in the era without feeling artificial. The recreation of the famous TV show where the protagonists cross paths is perhaps one of the most effective moments. It’s true the film doesn’t leave a deep mark: it could have gone further in exploring its commentary on misogyny and the media’s fascination with killers. Still, what it delivers is solid, straightforward, and at times unsettling—exactly what a thriller of this kind should be. In short, Woman of the Hour works as a debut with personality. It may not be flawless, but it shows clearly that Anna Kendrick, beyond being a charismatic actress, has a lot to say behind the camera.

Zoë Kravitz makes her directorial debut with Blink Twice, a curious blend of psychological thriller, social satire, and feminist statement. The film doesn’t always stay on track—at times it feels scattered and can leave you a bit lost—but when it hooks you, it does so with real intensity. What stands out most is the atmosphere: that poisoned luxury hiding uncomfortable secrets beneath its shiny surface. The visual design has strong moments, with images meant to unsettle, and even when some choices feel excessive, they help heighten the rising tension. Among the cast, Adria Arjona shines the brightest. She brings a magnetic presence, balancing the darker side of the story with believable vulnerability. Channing Tatum steps into a role unlike what we’re used to seeing from him, though at times he falls slightly short of what the story demands. The script doesn’t always manage to tie together all the themes it introduces, and in some passages the film seems more concerned with style than with fully developing its characters. Still, it’s a bold debut with personality, showing that Kravitz wants to speak loudly and clearly, even if her voice still needs refinement. Blink Twice isn’t perfect, but it has moments that linger. It’s the kind of film that, despite its flaws, sparks conversation once the credits roll—and that alone makes it stand out in a sea of disposable thrillers.

There are films that don’t need big twists or flashy effects to capture you — they simply tell a universal story in the right way. Flipped is exactly that: a tender, nostalgic, and honest look at what it means to fall in love for the first time. What struck me the most is how well the characters are written. Each one has their own voice and personality, making them memorable long after the credits roll. The young actors bring a natural and heartfelt energy without going over the top. You genuinely feel like you’re watching two teenagers stumble through the discovery of new emotions. The story unfolds at a calm pace, but it never drags. It gives space to enjoy the little things: a glance, an awkward gesture, a conversation that sticks with you. That simplicity is what makes it so special. You can sense the affection in the way it’s filmed, almost as if it were a cherished memory carefully kept in a box. There’s also something universal in what it portrays. Everyone, in one way or another, has felt those butterflies in the stomach — that mix of excitement and fear. The film manages to awaken that memory, and it’s impossible not to see yourself in some of the situations the characters experience. In a landscape filled with blockbusters and formulaic plots, Flipped shines through its sincerity. It may seem like a small story, but that’s where its strength lies. Sometimes, the simplest tales are the ones that last the longest.

K.O. is one of those films that doesn’t pretend to be anything else: straight-up action, violent and relentless. The plot is just an excuse to watch UFC star Cyril Gane unleash his physical power on screen. And while the story doesn’t break new ground, the frantic pace and fight sequences make sure there’s no time to get bored. The main character carries a past marked by guilt and is forced back into violence when a new conflict arises. By his side, a police officer who doesn’t always follow the rules provides an interesting contrast, though the film barely explores her motivations. Everything moves fast, with the spotlight firmly on the punches and chases. What really works here are the brutal action sequences. Gane may not be a versatile actor, but physically he delivers exactly what’s expected: strength, agility, and sheer presence. Some scenes, like the nightclub fight or the one in the police station, are shot with a raw energy that recalls the best of modern action cinema. Anyone looking for depth or layered drama won’t find it here. K.O. keeps things simple: brutal fights, occasional comic relief, and a tight runtime that plays to its advantage. In the end, it doesn’t reinvent the genre, but it does exactly what it promises: ninety minutes of stylized violence and fast-paced entertainment.