u/Ech-One-Kay

It is really one of the most brutal, claustrophobic thrillers about wealth distribution I have ever seen.

The script's engine is incredibly straightforward but devastating: the levels above gorge themselves and waste the food, while the levels below eat each other to death.

It is the clearest, ugliest mirror of our own society. It's so realistic. You'll immediately feel for the plight of the paupers and the comfort of the elites in the society just by watching it completely.

The performances are perfectly subtle. Everyone looks genuinely isolated and starving, and the film pushes the human instinct for survival to terrifying, realistic heights. You don't need heavy exposition when the physical mechanics of a descending table do all the heavy lifting.

The set, environment, cinematography and lighting makes this movie more amazing, heightening the overall claustrophobic nature of the scenes. It's not an “Everyday Prison”. It's a pit, an arena where you have to eat your way out to win.

But you can feel the exact moment the script loses its nerve.

For the first two acts, the subtext is brilliant. Then the third act completely floods the engine. It abandons its grounded survival mechanics and turns into a heavy-handed, symbolic "Messiah" allegory.

Honestly the third act is the biggest problem in the movie that kinda demolishes everything so brilliantly built.

The internal logic completely breaks down, especially the storyline with Miharu and her child, which remains frustratingly unexplained and physically impossible within the rules the movie established. How was that child surviving in the deepest pit? Why didn't they freeze or get hot due to extra food in the pit? Why was the administration lying about the child rules? The script just fell flat and went against its own, strictly established rules.

It also leaves a lot of narrative anchors completely vague. We never really find out why Goreng risked his life in the hole just for a diploma, and the Administration is left entirely faceless and silent. While that vague bureaucracy works to show how little the top cares about the bottom, it still leaves the narrative feeling slightly incomplete.

But despite the script trading its mechanical logic for heavy symbolism in the final stretch, it ends on a perfect cliffhanger.

It is a terrifying blueprint, a perfection, and it absolutely did not need a sequel.

In the part one of my post (see 👇)...

https://www.reddit.com/r/PakistaniCinephiles/s/l7a6O9Ky15

...I discussed all the observations I had about Pakistani cinema which are hindering its growth altogether. But I felt I got too technical and tended more towards the exhibition. So this second part was long overdue, which will focus more on the creation too.

Here is exactly what is killing our movies before they even reach the screen:

1. Dead Movie Soundtracks (Despite Having the Best Music): Pakistan produces the greatest music in South Asia. Coke Studio, our indie scene, and even our drama OSTs go viral globally. Bollywood has shamelessly copied our music for decades. Yet, our movie soundtracks are completely forgettable. A great album creates massive hype for a movie before it even releases (look at Bollywood's ANIMAL). I have always wondered why is our world-class music completely missing from our films? Why don't we have playback singers? Why don't our movie songs chart?

2. The Obsession with TV Dramas: Our industry puts all its time, money, and effort into television. We pump out 10 to 11 drama serials every single month, but we barely release 6 or 7 feature films in an entire year. Cinema is treated like an afterthought.

3. Poor Cinema Conditions: Forget the few posh, luxury theaters for a second. Most average cinemas in Pakistan are poorly maintained, have terrible seating, zero management, and lack basic facilities. If we want our movies to be massive hits, the average person needs a comfortable, accessible place to actually watch them.

4. Weak Scripts and a Lack of Great Directors: We have a few great names like Shoaib Mansoor Bilal Lashari and Nabeel Qureshi, but if you asked anyone to name the Top 10 modern Pakistani directors or the Top 10 modern Pakistani movies, they would struggle. The scripts are weak, the acting falls flat, and the overall direction just doesn't meet international standards.

5. Casting TikTokers Over Real Actors: Instead of hiring incredibly talented, struggling veteran actors who actually know the craft, producers cast TikTok stars and social media influencers just for cheap online hype. It might get a few quick views, but it completely destroys the credibility and quality of the actual movie.

6. The Censor Board Guillotine: This is probably the biggest killer. The censor board refuses to let anything artistic or boundary-pushing reach the audience. They ban internationally praised, award-winning films like Sarmad Khoosat's Zindagi Tamasha and Saim Sadiq's Joyland (rated 98% on rotten tomatoes). When the board dictates everything, producers become terrified to take any creative risks.

7. No Regional Dubbing/Nationwide Releases: We have no proper system for nationwide releases. If a movie is going to be massive, it needs to be dubbed into regional languages so that it can be released and understood locally across the entire country, not just in the major urban centers.

We, as Pakistanis, need our own recognition worldwide. We need to make the international audience realize that there's a stark difference between Indian and Pakistani movies. If we fix the presentation from Part 1 and the creation issues discussed here, this combo of Creation + Exhibition will make Lollywood possibly one of the greatest cinema industries ever. It will finally rise to the occasion.

Watched it last night. And to be honest I enjoyed it. The runtime is perfect, the script is simple, the acting is subtle, and the direction is entirely grounded. It hooks you the moment you get past the title card and doesn't let go until the very end. I mean coming from a movie like Manchester by the Sea, this transition didn't feel jarring to me.

Celine Song brilliantly enhances the beauty of every single frame through background scale and detail. Clear skies, clouds, landmarks, trees, recreations, and refreshments, every single location feels completely lived in and realistic. These are the exact kinds of love stories that become unforgettable.

But the most amazing part of this movie, for me, is the ending. It is amazingly written. No overacting, no screams, no melodrama. Song kept everything subtle and brutally realistic. Pure, suffocated emotions and the heavy regret of the choices that finally mattered after decades.

This is almost a one sided love story. Hae-Sung fell for Nora completely, but she cut him off to focus on her ambition. Later, she marries Arthur to boost her career through a green card. That makes her a grey, pragmatic character, though she loved Arthur genuinely. And it was entirely necessary I guess. Humans are flawed. And Nora is not a traditional romantic lead. Thank God Song saved the film from a soap opera disaster where the noble hero returns his love back to her lover.

But it isn't a flawless engine though. The pacing is too slow, possibly the slowest I have ever seen. That kind of deliberate drag works in a movie built on active trauma like Manchester by the Sea, but here, the narrative momentum somehow felt stalled.

The characters also suffered from uneven development, like how the Nora-Arthur arc was beautifully fleshed out, but Hae-Sung's relationship with his girlfriend was completely neglected.

But at the end of the day, these minor flaws on the autopsy table don't spoil the quiet, uncompromising beauty of the film. It's near perfect, almost close to it.

We have the population to be the 4th biggest film industry in the world, but our movies always feel like an incomplete hobby, like telefilms.

Here is what I have put together after years of observations:

1. Missing Info: Look up any Pakistani movie, even recent 2026 flicks, and the details are always half blank. No proper cast lists, no official credits, and no transparent box office tracking even on a Wikipedia article. Producers just release fake, inflated numbers. We need a proper system for it as Bollywood/Hollywood has.

2. Zero True Movie Stars: We just use TV actors. Why would audiences pay for a cinema ticket when they can watch the exact same people, with the same TV acting, for free on a drama serial every night? Plus, our actors don't know how to properly promote a film.

3. Zero Risk: Producers are terrified of trying anything new. They play it safe and copy Bollywood formulas to guarantee a return. It kills any chance of creating something grand or original.

4. No Credible Critics: We don't have a single dedicated, reliable platform for real film criticism. There is no system to hold bad movies accountable or build genuine hype for the good ones. Everything feels scattered and somehow not that credible.

5. Unprestigious Awards: Hollywood has the Oscars. India has Filmfare. Our awards lack prestige, they don't happen consistently, and it’s an open secret that stars can just buy them.

If we fix these points, our movies with such flawed scripts and copied scenes would still earn a lot, giving producers a reasonable profit and an actual chance to take risks and explore other genres. It will help Lollywood a lot.

First of all, watching a remake before the original is a mistake. I saw Point of No Return first, and while I truly admired Bridget Fonda, returning to La Femme Nikita was a real eye opener for how that atmosphere actually works.

La Femme Nikita is a raw, French arthouse thriller. The setting feels authentic, the shootouts are chaotic, the missions are messy, and the killer is hesitant. She's too wild and free to be caged. Anne Parillaud delivers a standout performance. What truly makes the film breathe is Luc Besson’s masterful use of silence. It’s a visually striking, atmospheric masterpiece.

But honestly, my instincts were thrown off by the script itself. Her severe drug addiction and withdrawal symptoms just disappear, they don't even mention it again. The agency's logic is flawed too, because no government would risk two years and millions to turn an unstable street addict into a top agent.

The third act is awkward and inconsistent. The climax relies on Dues Ex Machina. Nikita dramatically changes her look near the end of the film and her fiancé of six months doesn't blink at the continuity slip, and the script really strips Nikita of her agency.

Now, looking at the American remake, it’s a different story. We sadly lost the intense psychological claustrophobia of the original in there.

Point of No Return replaces the gritty feel with glossy visuals, forced seduction, and heavy gunfire. Even Hans Zimmer's powerful score felt out of place, drowning out the quiet tension that made the original so gripping. Maggie’s character shifts into a typical femme fatale in the third act, betraying the vulnerability Bridget Fonda so brilliantly conveyed.

Fonda was phenomenal though. She deserves her flowers. Her fierce disobedience and raw terror rivaled Parillaud's, sometimes even surpassing her. She managed to elevate what was otherwise a mediocre script.

And I appreciate one thing about the American version. The writers tightened up some of the loose storytelling. They fixed the disguise continuity errors and, more importantly, gave Maggie the agency to refuse her final mission, which was the standout improvement for me.

But those small fixes can’t erase the fact that Hollywood basically sanded off all the rough edges of a chaotic, feral thriller.

In the end, we’re left with two flawed films:

Besson's brilliant atmosphere built on a shaky screenplay, vs a Hollywood machine that’s technically polished but lacking soul.

What do you guys think?

It was probably the only movie where the grief is so realistically handled. Here's my insight.

1. I felt that those flashbacks are literally Lee's thoughts, we were in his mind during the flashbacks. That's why they felt that sudden, inconsistent and jarring.

2. The screenplay is so mundane, it is totally everyday conversations, nothing special, nothing over the top, nothing difficult.

This is something the hardest to write because to convey grief in such everyday conversations, you actually have to face it, otherwise you might take some help from long monologues or lonely nights with crying eyes. I don't think no one in that team would really have had the pain of Lee Chandler and still to write such an amazing character is mind-blowing.

3. Casey Affleck was so amazing, his grief showed through his behavior, yet he kept calm mostly and never let it out himself. He never showed his grief, he never sobbed, except once, never screamed, he kept everything to himself.

We were screaming for Lee to empty his heart out and not let everything to himself, the movie didn't even offer a moment of it. That river didn't flow. The ending was so anti-cathartic, which makes this movie more unforgettable.

25M writer here. I'm into psychological thrillers, drama, and horror. Don't like small talk mostly, I prefer deep, real conversations.

Looking for people in their 20s+ who can actually get into mature, psychological topics. Not here for casual vibes. I want genuine, long term connections.

I can discuss any topic but more into films, nature and music . I can talk for hours and might randomly DM you during our conversation with a thought, so you’ve gotta be cool with that energy.

Would love to connect with actors, writers, directors. Might send you raw scenes for honest feedback.

DMs open. Keep it simple, just drop a movie, song, or random idea.

I was just listening to the PSL 11 anthem (which was atrocious somehow, but better than PSL X's anthem) and suddenly realized something that has been on my mind for years: why can't PSL and PCB move beyond artists like Ali Zafar, Aima Baig, or Atif Aslam? Why do anthems featuring other artists not receive enough appreciation? Why do they stick to product placement and visuals rather than lyrics and music itself?

I myself liked Agay Dekh, Sab Sitare Hamare and Groove Mera and Tayyar Ho more than any other anthems. They were so unique.

What's your opinion on this? Let's talk about it

When it comes to likes/dislikes, my choices have always been drastically different than others, and when I share them with people around me, they all say that I'm weird lol. Sometimes I feel like I'm the only one who would have such choices.

I don't like anything overrated and overly discussed, in any field, whether that's movies, music or any other thing. When too many people talk about one thing, I just stop thinking about it and I can't stand it then. I'm starting to think that I have a strict BS-meter for mediocrity.

For example, I rooted for Sabrina Carpenter when she was relatively unknown and her craft was the focus. But when she blew up in 2024 by cashing in on this highly manufactured "cool female babe" PR image, I instantly dropped her music, because it wasn't about the art anymore.

On the contrary, when The Weeknd dropped "Blinding Lights", I listened to it. When it became an inescapable cultural milestone in 2021 and became the most streamed song on Spotify, I still listened to it. I listen to it nowadays too, because his song was genuinely good and deserved that popularity. And I regularly listen to artists like Himesh and Nadeem-Shravan rather then listening to contemporary music.

I couldn't understand Anora and One Battle After Another, and though I genuinely enjoyed them and would watch them again, they won't have the same feeling as Children of Men had on me. It is less popular movie, a box office flop, but a masterpiece for me.

This bleeds into everything as I said earlier. I dislike pigeons, sheep, lions and can't stand roses (or other flowers) and doves. I hate cliches and tropes. I don't like them used again and again in symbolism. But I like ravens, owls, wolves (my favorite animal ever), spiders, scorpions, rabbits.

Similarly, I prefer being alone, and at social gatherings, I’m constantly glued to my phone. My colleagues think I just have a low social life or social anxiety. In reality, I use my phone as a shield because I physically cannot stand enduring them talking uselessly. But I’ll put the same phone down and talk to someone for hours who would actually listen to me and doesn't get bored of me.

Am I the only one who is like this?

For me it was one the most brilliant endings in cinema ever. Here's why:

1. It lingered: fans still talk about where the bug was hidden.

2. Harry caul destroyed his sanctuary himself: his job had 4 casualties because of him. He committed one murder because of his job; his apartment he cared so much for.

3. Caul is exposed: he felt he's safe and would be talking to other people on his hidden telephone without sharing his real number, guess what, the firm now knows everything. They always knew everything. Caul is standing in the rain without roof.

4. Camera work: the last pan significantly shows the Harry is under surveillance.

5. Caul's concert: his last saxophone song is purely painful, his mind is reeling about the moments he would have spent in the apartment thinking he was safe, while he wasn't, and also he doesn't feel safe anymore.

6. The Saxophone: it's the only thing that loves caul and won't betray him, but what if the bug is in there?

7. Gene hackman's performance: it'll always be top tier for me. It's a shame he wasn't even nominated for the Oscar, he deserved every single award. Now I realize what a gem we lost in 2025.

8. Coppola's craft: mind-blowing. His direction was on peak and screenplay was so effectively confusing, he revealed everything so slowly until the climax, leaving us the question: (where's the bug in caul's apartment?)

I guess it depends on the viewer, I might think he's under surveillance, but maybe Martin is lying to him to pull his legs since he's bad at perceiving jokes, or maybe it's god watching him, or it's martin watching him since caul knows too much. Because he ran away from the other three murders to escape the guilt, this 4th murder guilt penetrated his heart and life before he could run away again, now he has to live with it. Forever.

So, let's discuss it now. What do you think about it?

I recently watched The Conversation for the first time, and it was one of the most amazing movies I have watched so far, so gripping and grounded that it made me fall in love with the neo-noir of the 70s more and more.

And its climax is an absolute masterpiece. It isn't just a plot twist, it is the total architectural collapse of a character. Fans still debate where the bug was hidden, but for me, the brilliance is watching Harry Caul tear his own sanctuary down to the floorboards, like a bird of prey destroying its own nest.

Think about the physical toll of that ending. His job caused four casualties, and now he is "murdering" the apartment he cared so much about. He felt completely safe hiding in his fortress, handing out fake numbers on a hidden telephone, only to realize the firm always knew everything. He is standing in the rain without a roof, completely exposed by his own hands. His mind is reeling, and he is trapped forever in his own paranoia.

Then there is the saxophone. That final song is purely painful. The sax is the only thing left in Caul's life that loves him and won't betray him...

But Coppola leaves us with that agonizing paradox: what if the bug is inside the same instrument?

And that final camera pan is a literal chef's kiss and an incredible detail. Coppola literally shifts the cinematic language. The camera mimics the robotic, indifferent panning motion of a CCTV security feed.

It physically shows us he is under permanent surveillance without saying a word. Or maybe he's being watched by God Himself for his sins.

Where's the bug hidden? Who's watching him? What do you think? Let's talk.

Hi everyone. I’m a screenwriter developing a grounded comedy-drama about a respected young school teacher who suffers from undiagnosed kleptomania (similar to the Winona Ryder case—she doesn't need to steal, it just happens inadvertently).

Without realizing it, she steals something minor in every situation she is in, and eventually, the neighborhood starts whispering about a mysterious "Superchorni."

While the premise has comedic elements, the core of the story deals heavily with her internal paranoia and the brutal reality of being socially ostracized in a tight-knit community.

I want the social dynamics to feel incredibly authentic. I need some hyper-specific, real-world insight into Desi neighborhood mechanics:

1. The Gossip Pipeline: If a rumor starts in a mohalla or apartment complex, what is the exact pipeline of how that gossip spreads? (Who tells who, and where do they congregate?)

2. The High-Stakes Trap: What is the absolute worst, most high-stakes, yet socially mundane situation (like a specific type of dawat or a rishta meeting) where a respected woman accidentally having someone else's item in her purse would cause absolute chaos?

3. The "Sticky Fingers" Auntie: Have you ever known a respected relative or neighborhood figure who always "accidentally" walked away with small items, but no one could directly accuse them because of their status? How did people passively handle getting their stuff back?

4. The Silent Ostracization: Before any direct accusations are ever made, what does Desi social isolation actually look like? (e.g., getting suddenly dropped from specific WhatsApp groups, the exact type of passive-aggressiveness from the neighborhood aunties, or suddenly not being invited to Dholkis?

Any insight into how you’ve seen rumors mutate or these social disasters unfold would be a massive help for the script.

Although it was atrocious, I believe it isn't the worst movie ever, especially compared to Gigli and Battlefield Earth. Here's what I found upon rewatching it:

1. Halle Berry was outstanding for most parts and deserved better recognition, she literally embodied Catwoman and Patience Philips. That Razzie was unjust.

2. Her costume was brilliant but too revealing. A few modest adjustments could have helped.

3. Some shots, like her resurrection scene when she's surrounded by cats, were breathtaking and among my favorites.

4. Her scene where she develops cat instincts to hunt a spider and save a child was good.

5. Action scenes with hand-to-hand combat were decent but cheesy overall.

Thoughts?

I watched the film last month after developing an interest in erotic thrillers, especially after seeing Fatal Attraction (which I also enjoyed a lot). Since I was writing a female-centric script myself, I felt I had to watch it.

I myself found it well written, with a compelling script, effective location choices, strong performances, and solid direction that truly caught my attention. It was subtle and restrained, with a grounded and lived in feel. The script really paid close attention to miniscule details, and each scene, even the dialogues, built up perfectly to the third act, where everything suddenly changed and I truly hated it the way it did it to a brilliantly built structure.

BTW how was your experience with the movie? Thoughts?

The whole movie was so awesome I couldn't take my eyes off the screen. I kept questioning whether this was the perfect movie since I couldn't find any goofs or flaws. But as the climax unfolded, I kept hoping until the end for another fake flashback from Amy about Desi's true nature. When Amy gave a speech to FBI agents about how she survived Desi, I was yelling, "OMG FINCHER, YOU MISSED SOMETHING." You missed the ending where innocent Amy screams her heart out while covered in a manipulative Desi's blood, and we coldly cut to Amy being interrogated by FBI agents.

I mean just think about it. A slow-motion fake flashback of a "bad, manipulating" Desi (which he wasn't), including THAT camera scream. Amy would struggle, scream, search with her extending hands for something to hit Desi who's violating that "innocent" woman.

Why is everyone relying on cheap plot twists instead of actual psychology?

When did psychological thrillers stop being about actual psychology? Nowadays, it’s all sci-fi gimmicks, multiverse excuses, or the incredibly lazy "it was all in their head" plot twist.

We've lost the raw terror of two flawed characters in a single room, hiding behind masks, slowly tearing each other apart through dialogue and misdirection.

True paranoia doesn't need CGI or a ghost. It needs claustrophobia. It needs a shifting power dynamic.

So to the writers who are actually bleeding on the page:

How do you build suffocating tension in a confined space?

What’s the most manipulative, psychology-driven scene you’re writing right now?

Let’s cut the theoretical bullshit. Show me what you're working on.