(1) Platoon
Review: "Platoon" – War is Hell, and Everyone is Sweating About It
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Watching Platoon is like being thrown into the middle of the Vietnam War with no map, no sunscreen, and no idea who to trust. Written and directed by Oliver Stone, the movie is loosely based on his own experiences in Vietnam, which makes you wonder: who hurt you, Oliver?
The story follows Chris Taylor (Charlie Sheen), a fresh-faced college dropout who volunteers for Vietnam, presumably after watching one too many John Wayne movies. He quickly learns that war isn’t about glory or heroics, it’s about mosquitoes, moral ambiguity, and trying to keep your head on straight while everyone around you is losing theirs. It’s like summer camp, but with more napalm.
The ensemble cast is stacked with young actors who would go on to become legends. Willem Dafoe plays Sgt. Elias, the platoon’s moral compass, while Tom Berenger’s Sgt. Barnes is the human embodiment of bad vibes. Their feud over the soul of the platoon becomes the film’s central conflict, like The Odd Couple, but with more jungle warfare and fewer jokes about messy roommates. Meanwhile, a baby-faced Johnny Depp pops up briefly, as if he wandered onto the set and decided to stick around.
The film’s portrayal of combat is unrelenting. Forget slick action sequences or triumphant marches—Stone delivers raw, chaotic battles that leave you questioning how anyone survives a war, let alone emerges with their sanity intact. The jungle itself becomes a character, with its oppressive heat, unrelenting rain, and ever-present sense that something (or someone) terrible is just out of sight. By the end, you’ll feel like you need a shower and a tetanus shot.
What makes Platoon truly great, though, is how it explores the psychological toll of war. Taylor arrives in Vietnam full of ideals and leaves as a man who has seen and done things that will haunt him forever. The movie doesn’t glorify war; it tears it down, throws it in the mud, and sets it on fire. You’ll find yourself asking the same question Taylor does: “What are we even fighting for?” Spoiler: the movie doesn’t have an easy answer.
That said, Platoon isn’t all doom and gloom. There’s a surprising amount of dark humour sprinkled throughout, whether it’s the soldiers cracking jokes to cope with their situation or the sheer absurdity of some moments. For example, there’s a scene where a soldier dances in the jungle, cigarette dangling from his mouth, and you can’t decide if it’s brave, insane, or both.
If there’s one nitpick, it’s that the movie’s philosophical undertones occasionally veer into melodrama. At times, Taylor’s voiceover feels less like a soldier reflecting on war and more like he’s workshopping his poetry for an open mic night. But hey, when you’ve been through hell, maybe you’ve earned the right to wax poetic.
Would I recommend Platoon? Absolutely if you’re ready for a gritty, unflinching look at the Vietnam War. It’s not a popcorn movie; it’s a sit-down-and-stare-into-the-void movie. But it’s also a masterpiece that captures the chaos, camaraderie, and moral complexity of war like few others.
Just be prepared to sweat along with the cast. By the end, you’ll feel like you’ve fought the war yourself and you’ll never look at a jungle the same way again.
(2) Schindler’s List
Review: Schindler’s List – A Sobering Masterpiece That Demands Respect (and a Lot of Tissues)
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Let’s get one thing straight: Schindler’s List is not a movie you casually pop on during a lazy Sunday. Directed by Steven Spielberg, this 1993 historical drama about the Holocaust is a cinematic masterpiece but it’s also a three-hour emotional wrecking ball. If you’re looking for laughs, maybe try literally any other movie. That said, if you’re prepared to witness one of the most powerful films ever made, grab your tissues and settle in.
The film tells the true story of Oskar Schindler (Liam Neeson), a German businessman and card-carrying opportunist who ends up saving the lives of over 1,000 Jews during the Holocaust. At the start, Schindler is more interested in making a quick buck and partying with Nazi officers than doing the right thing. But as the horrors of the Holocaust unfold, he undergoes one of the most compelling redemption arcs in cinema. By the end, you’ll be asking yourself, “Did I just cry over a guy who made pots and pans?” Yes, yes, you did.
Liam Neeson is phenomenal as Schindler, balancing charisma and moral complexity like he’s auditioning for the role of “Most Reluctant Hero Ever.” And then there’s Ralph Fiennes as Amon Göth, the sadistic Nazi officer who is so terrifyingly good at being evil that you’ll want to hiss every time he’s on screen. Fiennes’ portrayal of Göth is chilling, a reminder of how power and ideology can turn people into monsters. You’ll hate him, but you’ll also appreciate how layered his performance is.
But let’s talk about Ben Kingsley as Itzhak Stern, Schindler’s Jewish accountant and moral compass. Kingsley plays Stern with quiet dignity, and his dynamic with Neeson is the emotional backbone of the film. Stern is the kind of guy who can gently remind you that you’re profiting off slave labour while also making you believe in the goodness buried deep in your soul. It’s no wonder Schindler starts listening to him.
The black-and-white cinematography is stunning, giving the film a haunting, timeless quality. Spielberg uses the absence of colour to make every frame feel like a historical document until, of course, he doesn’t. The infamous “girl in the red coat” stands out as one of the most gut-wrenching symbols ever put on film. The moment you see her, you know Spielberg’s not just tugging at your heartstrings; he’s tying them into a knot and cutting them in half.
Spielberg doesn’t shy away from the atrocities of the Holocaust, and he shouldn’t. The film is brutal, unflinching, and deeply respectful of its subject matter. At the same time, it doesn’t feel exploitative it feels necessary. By the end, you’ll be emotionally spent, questioning humanity, and maybe Googling ways to donate to a Holocaust museum.
That said, Schindler’s List is not without moments of humanity and even levity. The lighter moments like Schindler negotiating with Nazi officers or Stern’s subtle sarcasm offer brief but necessary reprieves from the overwhelming darkness. They remind you that even in the worst of times, there are still glimmers of hope, kindness, and absurdity.
Would I recommend Schindler’s List? Wholeheartedly. It’s one of the most important films ever made a masterclass in storytelling, acting, and the power of cinema to confront humanity’s darkest chapters. But it’s also not a film you just “recommend” lightly. It’s heavy, heartbreaking, and utterly unforgettable.
Pro tip: Watch it with someone who doesn’t mind you ugly crying for three hours straight. And don’t even think about joking through this one. Schindler’s List demands and deserves your full attention and respect.
(3) Come and See
Review: "Come and See" - The Feel-Good Movie of Never
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“Come and See” is the cinematic equivalent of signing up for a pleasant nature hike and finding yourself in the middle of the apocalypse with no map, no snacks, and a nagging feeling that life might be an elaborate joke with a really dark punchline.
Directed by Elem Klimov, this 1985 masterpiece about World War II in Belarus is not your typical war movie. There are no dashing heroes, no triumphant orchestral scores, and definitely no witty banter between soldiers. Instead, it offers a soul-crushing journey into the depths of human suffering so realistic that by the end, you might find yourself Googling, “Can a movie give you PTSD?”
The story follows Florya, a wide-eyed boy who starts the movie excited to join the partisans and fight Nazis. Oh, sweet summer child. By the end of his journey, Florya’s transformation is so harrowing that the only way it could’ve been more pronounced is if they aged him into Gandalf.
One of the movie’s most incredible feats is its cinematography. The camera doesn't just show you what's happening; it drags you into the mud and screams, "LOOK AT THIS!" From haunting close-ups to chaotic long takes, every shot feels like a visceral punch to the gut. Klimov’s use of sound is equally jarring; gunfire, bombs, and an unsettling silence combine to create a soundtrack that lingers in your nightmares.
The film’s message is clear: war is hell, and anyone trying to romanticise it should probably be forced to watch this on a loop. It's a stark reminder that history’s most horrifying moments were lived by real people, people like Florya, who you’ll be rooting for even as the film systematically dismantles his innocence, hope, and, likely, your will to live.
But here’s the thing: despite its unrelenting grimness, “Come and See” is undeniably brilliant. It’s a film that doesn’t just demand your attention; it seizes it and refuses to let go. By the time the credits roll, you might feel like you’ve aged 20 years, but you’ll also feel like you’ve seen something profoundly important.
Would I recommend it for a first date? Absolutely not, unless your date loves bleak historical tragedies and wants to discuss existential dread over dessert. But if you're looking for a film that’s as unforgettable as it is devastating, “Come and See” is essential viewing. Just be sure to schedule some post-movie therapy or at least have a bottle of vodka handy. You’ll need it.
(4) Full Metal Jacket
Review: Full Metal Jacket – A War Movie That Screams, Laughs, and Then Hits You With the Feels
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Full Metal Jacket is a movie that grabs you by the collar, screams in your face for an hour, and then drops you into the middle of Vietnam to figure the rest out on your own. Directed by Stanley Kubrick, it’s a war film that feels like two movies in one: the first is a darkly hilarious boot camp comedy, and the second is a gritty meditation on the horrors of war. The only thing tying the two halves together is a sense that everyone involved could really use a hug.
The film kicks off with a bang or more accurately, a barrage of insults courtesy of Gunnery Sergeant Hartman, played by R. Lee Ermey in a performance so intense it feels less like acting and more like Ermey just showed up to set and started yelling. Hartman’s one-liners are so brutal and bizarre that you’ll find yourself laughing and then immediately questioning your own morality. You’ll never look at a jelly doughnut the same way again.
At the centre of the chaos is Private Joker (Matthew Modine), whose sarcastic wit makes him the perfect protagonist for Kubrick’s brand of dark humour. Then there’s Private Pyle (Vincent D’Onofrio), the hapless recruit whose journey from bumbling misfit to unhinged tragedy is the emotional core of the film’s first half. By the time boot camp concludes, you’ll feel like you’ve been through basic training yourself exhausted, uneasy, and wondering if Kubrick is capable of making a movie that doesn’t haunt your dreams.
The second half takes us to Vietnam, where Joker, now a military journalist, navigates the absurdity and brutality of war. The tone shifts dramatically, trading the relentless structure of boot camp for the chaos of combat. Kubrick doesn’t shy away from the horrors of war, but he also injects moments of surreal humour, like soldiers arguing about the ethics of their own propaganda or the eerie incongruity of pop songs blaring over scenes of destruction.
The supporting cast shines here, particularly Adam Baldwin as Animal Mother, a soldier who’s as terrifying as he is quotable, and Arliss Howard as Cowboy, whose quiet humanity offers a stark contrast to the madness around him. Together, they form a ragtag group of characters who feel both archetypal and deeply real, reminding you that war movies aren’t about heroes they’re about people trying to survive.
Kubrick’s direction is as meticulous as ever, with every shot composed like a painting. The set design, particularly the ruined streets of Hue City, is eerily beautiful in its desolation. And the soundtrack? Perfectly ironic, with upbeat ’60s hits underscoring some of the film’s darkest moments. When Nancy Sinatra’s “These Boots Are Made for Walkin’” plays over soldiers preparing for battle, it’s equal parts funny, chilling, and deeply unsettling.
If there’s a critique, it’s that the film’s two halves can feel disjointed. The transition from boot camp to Vietnam is abrupt, and some viewers might find themselves more invested in one half than the other. But that’s also part of the film’s brilliance: it refuses to give you a cohesive narrative because war itself isn’t cohesive. It’s chaotic, fragmented, and often makes no sense, which is exactly what Kubrick captures.
Would I recommend Full Metal Jacket? Absolutely, but only if you’re prepared for a film that will make you laugh, squirm, and think. It’s not your typical war movie. It’s darkly funny, profoundly unsettling, and packed with Kubrick’s signature style. By the end, you’ll feel like you’ve been through your own personal boot camp: a little battered, a little wiser, and very glad it’s over.
(5) Downfall
Review: Downfall – When the End of the World Feels Like a Really Bad Day at the Office
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If you’ve ever wanted to know what happens when a dictator’s empire collapses, and you enjoy a good descent into madness (but with German subtitles and a lot of yelling), Downfall (2004) is the film for you. Directed by Oliver Hirschbiegel, Downfall gives us a front-row seat to the last days of Adolf Hitler in his underground bunker. Spoiler alert: it’s not a "feel-good" movie. In fact, it’s not a movie where you’ll be rooting for anyone to win, but you’ll definitely be glad you watched it if only to confirm that, yes, it could always be worse.
The film focuses on Hitler’s final moments in the bunker as the Allies close in on Berlin in 1945. It’s all about the human side of a megalomaniac's breakdown, which, honestly, is kind of like watching the worst temper tantrum in history. As the Red Army approaches and Hitler's delusions of victory crumble, the tension in the bunker thickens like a pot of soup that’s been left on the stove for way too long. The war is over, but nobody’s told Hitler yet. You’re almost waiting for him to throw a giant tantrum, which, let’s face it, is pretty much what happens.
Bruno Ganz, playing Hitler, is absolutely mesmerising. He doesn’t just play Hitler, he becomes him, delivering a portrayal so chilling, you’ll start questioning whether it’s too late to ask for a refund on your Netflix subscription. Ganz’s performance is unnerving because you realise, “Oh, this isn’t just a historical portrayal, it’s a guy who believes he’s the hero of his own delusional narrative, even as everything around him falls apart.” His Hitler is a paranoid, irritable mess, and every time he spits out a “Verrückt!” (crazy), it feels like the man’s personal reality just keeps getting more bizarre.
But the real gem here is the scenes of chaos inside the bunker, where everyone is just trying to keep their heads down and avoid being collateral damage. Hitler's inner circle is a group of frenzied yes-men who are mostly just trying to outlast him. It's like a corporate board meeting gone wrong, where the CEO has clearly lost his mind, but no one dares to speak up because they’re all too busy covering their own backs. You’d think the situation would call for calm strategy, but instead, it’s a scramble of bitter soldiers trying to salvage whatever shred of dignity remains.
Then there’s the iconic scene that has turned Downfall into meme gold: Hitler, already in the throes of a mental breakdown, rants at his subordinates, only to be met with their sheepish attempts at explaining reality to him. The scene has become the go-to for internet parody, with various translations subtitled to reflect everything from “Why my pizza still isn’t here?” to “Why do we still have so many emails?” You’ve probably seen the meme, and you probably thought it was just some guy yelling about something trivial well, this is where that comes from.
As for the rest of the film, it’s a wild mix of pathos and absurdity. You’ve got soldiers who are clearly questioning their life choices, secretaries who know the war is lost but still cling to the idea of victory, and citizens who are facing the very real possibility of getting vaporised by Allied bombs any minute. The absurdity of it all can’t be overstated, everyone is simultaneously holding out for a miracle and quietly starting to prepare for the inevitable. There’s this weird sense of inevitability, as if you know everything is going to go completely off the rails, but you can’t help but watch it happen because, well, it’s history, and history has this way of being so dramatically inevitable.
The cinematography of Downfall is dark and oppressive, much like the mood inside the bunker. It’s claustrophobic. You can practically feel the sweat dripping from the walls as the pressure mounts. There’s no light at the end of the tunnel; only more rubble and the occasional soldier who’s too stubborn (or too scared) to leave. The film takes you through the fall of the Third Reich not with the gleam of victorious heroes, but with the sheer weight of history’s collapse.
Now, here’s the thing: Downfall is not a “fun” movie to watch. It’s a film that holds a mirror up to the absolute worst of human history and shows you the madness of power, paranoia, and impending doom. So if you’re in the mood for an uplifting, hopeful flick, Downfall is going to make you rethink your life choices. This is a film about the final days of a man who literally brought about the destruction of an empire, and if that doesn’t put you in a reflective mood, then, frankly, you might need to adjust your emotional compass.
Would I recommend Downfall? Absolutely. It’s a masterclass in acting, history, and unravelling human nature under extreme pressure. But if you do decide to watch it, be prepared for the emotional equivalent of getting hit with a pile of bricks, followed by a meme-worthy internet breakdown. Pro tip: Don’t watch it if you’ve just eaten lunch, this is not a movie where you want to be in the middle of a meal when the emotional shrapnel starts flying.
In conclusion, Downfall is a stark, poignant, and, dare I say, bizarrely entertaining depiction of the crumbling of a madman’s empire. It’s also an important reminder that sometimes, the most absurd moments of history make the best memes.
