The 21 Greatest Movies of All Time…In My Opinion (16-12)

Welcome to the second part of the 21 Greatest Movies of All Time (in my opinion)! I realized that in the previous episode, there was a heavy emphasis on films set in dark, miserable worlds. In this next segment…it kinda still is that way, but worry not, there are a few surprises to be found. Read on…

16 – Batman Begins (2005)

Christopher Nolan’s Dark Knight trilogy is, without any question, the greatest superhero series ever put to film. Nothing that Marvel or DC churn out of the factory will ever come close. Though I consider the three movies to be one continuous story, the first of them, Batman Begins, is truly a landmark film for the superhero genre.

Batman Begins of course has an excellent story, cinematography, soundtrack, and action scenes. However, what truly blows my mind is how effortlessly it gives every facet of the Batman universe a logical explanation. Everything, including how Bruce Wayne acquires his combat skills, his inspiration to dress up as a bat, where his armor, gadgets and vehicle come from, and how the villains factor into the story, fits together like the most perfect jigsaw puzzle ever made. Superhero movies in general irritate me because their stories turn to fantasy mumbo-jumbo bullshit to set up their narratives, whether it’s being bitten by a radioactive spider or being born with superpowers from the start. Batman has had to work his ass off to plausibly become a superhero, and this movie shows you exactly how. It’s storytelling of the highest creative quality.

Beyond that, the Dark Knight trilogy also has the best villains of any superhero movie, all of whom form an unholy trifecta that challenges Batman’s intelligence (Ra’s Al-Ghul), morality (The Joker), and willpower (Bane). What makes these villains stand out from others is that it isn’t necessarily their fighting skills that make them dangerous, but their ability to expose deep flaws in society through bribery, sabotage, betrayal, and manipulation. Most superheroes defeat their villains through physical combat. Batman, on the other hand, must work with the citizens of Gotham to undo profound societal damage before he can even get to the fighting. He may be a skilled fighter, but his real superpower is his ability to inspire ordinary people to do the most important work, and that alone makes Batman the best superhero of all.

15 – The Matrix (1999)

The Matrix is a rare example of an ultra-stylish science fiction movie with a story so intelligent and well thought out that it would still be one of the greatest movies of all time without its action scenes. Just about every action sequence and line of dialogue in this movie is a revelation for the science fiction genre, and since its release, only a handful of movies have managed to approach The Matrix‘s level of innovation.

By today’s standards, The Matrix’s action seems rather tame when compared to the likes of Kingsmen or the countless superhero movies of late. This is until you realize that it’s not that the action is tame; the action is practical, relying on old-fashioned stuntwork most of the time. When the famous bullet time sequences happen, they feel monumental because they are used very selectively. It’s a stylishly shot movie because of its perfect balance of real and digitized, with practical action choreography as its bedrock and groundbreaking CGI sprinkled on top.

Then there’s the story. My God, what a story. You know you’re in for a hell of a ride when the mind-bending notion of the modern world being a computer-generated dream is used merely as an opening setup for the rest of the show. Every minute of this movie is richly storied and loaded with symbolism. Whether its the horrific sight of Neo waking up in his pod and looking out at the fields of human battery towers, or a placid scene of Cypher eating a steak in front of Agent Smith, there’s a lot to unpack in every scene, no matter how benign it is.

20 years later, The Matrix is a reminder that blockbuster-grade action and art house-grade storytelling are not mutually exclusive. Perhaps its time for filmmakers to wake up.

14 – Manhunter (1986)

Netflix Graveyard: Manhunter | cinemaburn

Many people don’t realize this, but Manhunter is in fact the best Hannibal Lecter (Or Lecktor in this case) movie. Forget Silence of the Lambs, Hannibal and that godawful Red Dragon. Manhunter makes all of them look like made-for-TV movies.

It’s taken decades, but this movie is now recognized as having birthed the crime procedural drama, particularly CSI. It captures the realism and detail of the crime forensics investigation, including a spellbinding sequence in which a letter written by the serial killer Francis Dollarhyde is examined with infrared light. As is the case with Michael Mann’s films, the dialogue is highly technical and not watered down to meet audience expectations, heightening the sense that you are peeking into a genuine investigation and not a cheap reenactment.

Of course, we mustn’t forget the wonderful scenes with Hannibal Lecktor himself. Unlike Anthony Hopkins’ bombastic portrayal, Brian Cox portrays Lecktor as a scholarly gentleman who also happens to be a serial killer, rather than the other way round. If you didn’t already know who he was, you’d be baffled as to what a man of his demeanor was doing in a prison cell. The manner in which he torments Will Graham by saying just the right words is incredible to watch.

Manhunter would later be remade as Red Dragon in 2002, a movie that today serves only to highlight how much better the former is. The incredibly nuanced performances by William Peterson, Tom Noonan and Brian Cox, the detailed forensic investigation, the excellent soundtrack which includes In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida, and the tale of a detective who must lose himself into the mind of a serial killer in order to catch one, makes this movie one of my favorite detective stories of all.

13 – Sideways (2005)

Spoiler: This is the only comedy in my top 20. Sad to say, but it takes a lot for a movie to make me laugh out loud in a theater, and Sideways managed to consistently do that and almost move me to tears.

The story involves Miles (Paul Giamatti), who takes his friend Jack (Thomas Haden Church) on a wine-tasting trip up the Santa Ynez Valley to celebrate Jack’s coming marriage. Although Miles makes it clear early on that this trip is all about Jack, the movie really is all about Miles. We learn over the course of the story that in addition to being a miserable English teacher, he’s a divorced man, a failed author, and an alcoholic who nevertheless is passionate about wine. Much like the alcoholic beverage, Miles has been aging in a bottle for so long that no one, not even him, knows when he should be “opened”.

This all sounds like a rather depressing comedy, and it would be without the hilarious Jack to serve as a foil to Miles. He’s the polar opposite; energetic, enjoying life one day at a time, and less interested in wine and more in bedding numerous women before he’s forever enslaved to marriage. The struggle between Jack and an increasingly exasperated Miles over whether their bachelor’s trip should be about tasting wine or tasting…something else…is Sideways‘s comedic crux, and man, it is hilarious. The image of an overweight, naked redneck chasing Miles through a sleepy suburb will forever be seared in my memory as one of the funniest things put on film.

Where Sideways really hit me is its portrayal of a man going on a downward spiral while simultaneously indulging in his passion to prop himself up. Its funniest and saddest moments ebb and flow so seamlessly and never feel contrived, and while many movies use extraordinary circumstances to convey these things, Sideways relies solely on its realistic and well-written characters.

12 – Zero Dark Thirty (2012)

When one thinks about the greatest manhunt in history, one tends to not think about the people behind the curtain who work with networks of informants, fight red tape and put the pieces together behind a desk. Yet those are the very people who did the vast majority of the work that led to the death of Usama bin Laden. ZD30 is a military thriller that sidelines the usual boots-on-the-ground approach of most other films of the genre, successfully presenting the more complex and inherently less exciting side of military operations in an incredibly compelling manner.

The protagonist, a CIA agent named Maya, has to battle a far more formidable enemy than any terrorist: the mind-numbing bureaucracy of the United States government and the men within it who she must jolt out of their complacency in order to find UBL. The journey to get to UBL is long and isn’t pretty, with extensive torture scenes along the way. Where ZD30 shines is its objective, unbiased depiction of this journey. The film doesn’t have to paint anyone as good or bad, because we’re already familiar with the real-life story it is based on. Instead, it depicts professionals doing whatever it takes to serve their respective sides, whether it’s the CIA officers, the Washington bureaucrats, the Navy SEALs, or those in league with Al-Qaeda. It’s rare for a movie to present both a compelling and objective narrative.

The climatic raid on UBL’s compound is, aside from a few minor technical inaccuracies, a masterwork in military action. There’s no soundtrack, no heroics, no artificial lighting, and no bombast whatsoever. What you see and hear is likely as close as you’ll come to actually experiencing a night-time special forces raid. The deaths of UBL and his family members are presented matter-of-factly, as the SEALs brutally execute them with shots to the head and torso. It’s not a scene that makes you root for the SEALs; it just makes you understand the cold, unfeeling reality of their work. Truth is often the first casualty of war, but ZD30 does an excellent job putting it back together.

The 21 Greatest Movies of All Time…In My Opinion (21-17)

Movies just aren’t the same anymore. Over the past decade, we’ve seen the superhero movie become the de-facto big budget blockbuster, as well as an increasingly creatively bankrupt film industry that only seems to churn out reboots, remakes, sequels, and uninteresting Oscar bait designed to appeal only to the Hollywood bourgeoisie. More often than not, one must turn to streaming services like Netflix and Amazon Prime Video to find truly inventive and original material. This got me thinking about what my favorite movies of all time are; perhaps in breaking down why I love these 21 films so much, we can find out what the hell has gone wrong with the industry in the 2010s. Here’s number 21 to 17.

21 – Robocop (1987)

Movie Review: RoboCop (1987) | The Ace Black Blog

Many people have seen Robocop, and to most, it’s about a cyborg cop who beats the hell out of the bad guys. It turns out that Robocop has an astonishing level of complexity. It’s a satire of the excesses of the 1980s. It’s a criticism of raw, unhindered capitalism. Most importantly, it’s a surprisingly emotional journey of a machine that realizes it was once a man.

The world of Robocop is deeply cynical and morally bankrupt. There are few “good” characters, and even the OCP executives who resurrect Murphy are revealed to have orchestrated his death in order to get prime “candidates” for the Robocop program. Meanwhile, Murphy’s sense of duty and moral purity are so strong that he withstands the psychological effects of being turned into a cyborg; psychological effects that, as the sequel shows, have a tendency to drive other candidates to suicide.

It’s this contrast between the hero cop struggling with his identity and the violent, dreary streets of near-future Detroit that makes Robocop so fantastic. It has plenty of action of violence to go around, and with every innocent saved and criminal gunned down, few movies make you root for its protagonist like Robocop does.

20 – The Exorcism of Emily Rose (2005)

There’s been a pretty huge list of Exorcism movies over the past 40 years, but Emily Rose stands out because of its even blend of courtroom drama and horror. Most paranormal movies operate under the assumption that the demonic or ghostly presence tormenting the characters are real, but Emily follows up all of its terrifying sequences with logical explanations that could debunk their otherworldly nature.

Perhaps this is what makes Emily Rose so exceptionally scary; unlike other horror movies that feature levitation, special effects and other fantastical devices, the scares in this movie hint at something unimaginably evil without ever being overt. One scare involves the priest’s defense attorney constantly waking up at 3.00am to strange sounds in her apartment, which she learns much later is a sign that the demonic forces surrounding the trial have targeted her. The characters who experience such activity, particularly Emily Rose, are often trapped, because although terrifying, their experiences don’t quite cross the threshold of being beyond reasonable doubt, and they are caught between the malevolent demonic forces and a disbelieving legal system.

None of this would be effective were it not from two fantastic performances by Jennifer Carpenter, who surely must have actually been possessed while filming this movie, and Tom Wilkinson, who portrays a priest who cares for little else besides using his time on the stand to honor Emily Rose’s memory.

19 – Prisoners (2013)

Prisoners (2013) â Walter's World

Denis Villeneuve is one of the best filmmakers working today, and Prisoners was my introduction to his work. A straightforward kidnapping story, the greatness of this film lies in Hugh Jackman’s jaw-dropping performance and the story’s attempts to challenge your sense of morality.

When two families’ daughters are kidnapped, one family’s patriarch, Keller Dover, takes matters into his own hands. Initially presented as a kind-hearted, deeply religious carpenter, he winds up engaging in kidnapping and torture in his quest to find his daughter. The film effectively makes you sympathize with him by avoiding any clues as to where the daughters are or why they were taken, and depicting the police as hamstrung by due process. You feel Keller’s frustration, and before you know it, you follow him down the rabbit hole of moral depravity. The anger he unleashes in his search for his daughter makes Liam Neeson in Taken seem mildly irritated.

Analysis aside, Prisoners is exceptional because it realistically portrays the emotions that come into play when a loved one has been kidnapped. Characters are paralyzed by apathy, turn on one another, take matters into their own hands, and fly into a rage over the tiniest provocation. This movie is both an investigative story and an examination of emotions, and because it handles both of these things so well, it’s one of my favorites.

18 – Hereditary (2018)

âHereditaryâ Director Ari Aster Describes Disturbing ...

Hereditary is not a movie for everyone, not even horror fans. It’s an extremely slow movie that leans heavily towards drama before unfurling dramatically into full-blown horror; a style that his highly reminiscent of 1968’s Rosemary’s Baby.

The real horror of Hereditary lies not within the supernatural, but within the slow disintegration of the Graham family. The characters say some truly hurtful things to one another that no mother, son, father or daughter should ever have to hear. In my theater, the audience gasped at some of this dialogue. By the time the credits rolled, it was hard to decide which I found more unsettling; the breakdown of the Graham family, or the violent, horrifying events that are inflicted on them.

People are fond of movies in which the family is a force that saves the day, but Hereditary shows what could happen when a family allows discord to infect itself generation after generation. It’s a portrayal that many will find hard to accept, but Hereditary works because all families are capable of ripping themselves apart the way the Grahams do. True horror lies not within demons or spirits, but within the hearts of people.

17 – Seven (1995)

When Seven first came out, I remember seeing signs posted outside the theater that said “Shh! Don’t talk about the ending of this movie out loud!” I was too young to watch Seven at the time, but since then, I was curious enough to wait till it was out on Laserdisc.

Everything about Seven is nothing but masterful craftsmanship. From the title credits set to Closer by Nine Inch Nails, to the cinematography, to the wonderfully gruesome detective narrative, and finally to that ending to define all endings, it’s hard to imagine how this movie could get any better.

The two central characters, Detectives Mills (Brad Pitt) and Somerset (Morgan Freeman) drive the story forward as they investigate a series of murders based on the seven deadly sins. As the story progresses, it becomes increasingly clear that the real villain of Seven is not the serial killer, but the unnamed decaying, corrupt and broken city that has churned out such a person. When the killer eventually shows up, he’s presented as an inevitable end result of the city, rather than an anomaly within it. The police are baffled as to who he is and where he’s from, but as the killer emphasizes, “Who I am is not important.”

Numerous background characters hint at a society in decline: the police officers who are bribed by reporters into revealing sensitive information, security guards at a library who gamble, a brothel owner who is unconcerned over a murder at his establishment, apartment tenants who yell “Shut the fuck up!” during a shootout in their building, and of course the serial killer’s victims who are later revealed to be less-than-stellar models of society. Somerset, the veteran detective, is so disillusioned that to him, a serial killer isn’t anything out of the ordinary for a city like this. Mills, on the other hand, transfers into the city’s police precinct specifically because he sees an opportunity to make a difference. He later learns, in truly shocking fashion, what his optimism costs him.

Seven is, at face value, one of the greatest detective films ever made. Beneath the surface, it’s a story about the kinds of monsters a society that slips into apathy and moral decay can spit out, and how the remaining decent people have no choice but to leave or be consumed forever.

Dragged Across Concrete Describes the Experience of Watching It

Ever since his career and reputation were nearly annihilated in a tornado of expletives, Mel Gibson has been crawling his way back to renown with a string of impressive films, such as 2016’s Hacksaw Ridge. His latest film, Dragged Across Concrete, is another superb outing, though it’s an acquired taste for the modern filmgoer.

Directed by Craig Zahler, Dragged is a nearly 3-hour long crime story that moves at an agonizingly slow pace. To illustrate, at one point the film features an uninterrupted shot of detective Lurasetti (Vince Vaughn) eating a cheeseburger to completion while he and his partner Ridgeman (Gibson) stake out a criminal hideout. If you’ve been indoctrinated by today’s rapid-pace film styles, you will have a tough time with Dragged.

This glacial pace is the result of the film building its characters slowly but effectively. In the first act, it introduces them without any context, leaving you to wonder where they fit in the grand scheme of things. By the time their role in the plot is revealed, you already have a solid idea of their characteristics, and this makes the inevitable bloodbath that follows all the more effective. One particular character’s death is incredibly horrifying entirely because of the lengthy character building behind it. Unlike many other films of this genre, every gunshot, death, and bullet wound feels consequential because none of characters are disposable.

The story isn’t anything particularly special at first. Set in the fictional city of Bulwark, two cops, Ridgeman and Lurasetti, are suspended without pay for abusing a suspect and turn to robbing a gang of bank robbers to fill their pockets. We’ve seen this kind of plot in other cop movies and TV shows like The Shield, but the twist here comes in the form of Henry Johns (Tory Kittles), an ex-con who is hired along with his friend Biscuit by the bank robbers as a getaway driver. If Ridgeman and Lurasetti are the “good” guys and the bank robber are the bad guys, Johns is the wrench in the gears that steers Dragged away from the usual Cops versus Robbers storyline. Much like the two detectives, he is both a participant and victim of the corrupt, morally bankrupt city, trying to make a better life for himself the only way he knows how. What separates Johns from the rest is that he has managed to reconcile his moral code with his criminal background, and as the story approaches its end, this has massive consequences for all parties involved in the heist.

Dragged is initially tough to sink your teeth into and builds tension to the point of inducing physical discomfort (the bank robbery scene immediately comes to mind), but its real rewards come in the form of the climactic shootout between the cops, robbers, and ex-cons. In keeping with its overall style, Dragged‘s shootout is extremely long and is more of a war of attrition, where the characters try all kinds of inventive ways to outwit and outflank each other. The detectives have limited cover but have an advantageous view of the combat zone. The robbers have superior firepower, a hostage, and an armored van to protect them, but are also trapped inside it with no way to maneuver or see outside. Johns is both outgunned and outmanned, and takes measures to allow the other two parties to finish each other off first before he swoops in like a vulture. It’s a wonderfully tense game of chess and a worthy payoff for the nearly two-hours of buildup.

Dragged Across Concrete will not appeal to most audiences today, but it’s nevertheless a refreshingly slow and brutal take on the crime genre that more jaded filmgoers will find appealing. Much like a trip to the gym, you will feel drained and exhausted, but it will be totally worth it.

The Highwaymen Body Slams a Romanticized Story Back to Reality (NETFLIX)

Netflix’s recently released The Highwaymen is a slow, ponderous film that seeks to dispel the romanticized image of the famous Depression-Era rogues Bonnie and Clyde. With flawless, understated performances by lead actors Kevin Costner and Woody Harrelson and a carefully paced story that builds to its climatic shootout, it embodies its message in more ways than one.

The real-life story of Depression-era rogues Bonnie and Clyde was glamorized in the mind of the public. With their good looks, fairy-tale love story and penchant for robbing banks, they were hailed by many as Robin Hood-esque heroes, conveniently ignoring their vicious executions of numerous police officers and innocent civilians. The Highwaymen shows a truer side to this story by fixing its perspective on the two Texas Rangers tasked to hunt them down. Both Bonnie and Clyde are rarely shown on-screen, and when they are, it’s almost exclusively from someone else’s perspective (for example, a civilian watching their crimes from a distance). More often than not, the film chooses to instead fixate on the aftermaths of their heinous crimes, allowing the audience to share the more grounded perspectives of its two lawmen.

The public’s perception of Bonnie and Clyde infuriates Costner’s grizzled veteran Frank Hamer. One important scene involves him and Deputy Ted Hinton, who admits he hesitated when given the opportunity to take a shot at Bonnie and Clyde. As they stand over the corpses of a slain police officer, Hinton expresses skepticism that the young and pretty Bonnie Parker could commit such a heinous murder. This prompts Hamer to verbally backhand Hinton with a reminder that not taking these two seriously has allowed them to continue killing. In another scene shortly after, Hamer is questioning a gas station attendant who praises Bonnie and Clyde for their crusade against the banks, concluding with “all luck to ’em.” Hamer proceeds to verbally (and physically) backhand him too:

“There’s a peace officer, died in a puddle of himself back in Dallas…he was trying to get the shells out of his pocket when his head was blown off on Easter Sunday morning. His family will be on the breadline next week. All luck to ’em? Hm? All luck to ’em??”

The film portrays the two Texas Rangers Hamer and Gault as dinosaurs who are brought out of retirement into a world that is rapidly moving on without them. It shows them having to adapt to modern firepower like the Tommy Gun and BAR, drive faster cars, and watching their younger (and overconfident) law enforcement counterparts use new scientific methods to solve crimes. Hamer and Gault, meanwhile, rely on the old methods that have always worked. They interrogate people, get themselves into the mindset of their prey in order to anticipate their moves, and stakeout their hideouts. Most importantly, the two men, especially Hamer, have a simpler, unambiguous interpretation of right and wrong. They don’t define Bonnie and Clyde by their youth, beauty, or Robin Hood personas. They define them by their cold-blooded murders of innocent people.

In a metatextual way, The Highwaymen seeks to bring viewers down to reality by going against many of the stylistic choices of the 1967’s Bonnie and Clyde. The film moves at a slow pace, taking enormous pains to flesh out Hamer and Gault’s relationship and every detail of their struggle to end the duo’s crime spree. The performances are also nuanced and understated, with few dramatic outbursts, as the lawmen resolve their differences professionally before the time comes to put B&C down. The final shootout feels like a masterfully executed grand finale to a crescendo that has been building in disciplined fashion for two hours. As the film closes with Hamer and Gault driving off into the distance, The Highwaymen cements itself as an excellently crafted narrative, where every facet of its very nature is modeled after its two central characters. Highly recommended.

Sekiro Pushes Difficulty As Far As It Has Ever Gone

From Software’s newest title, Sekiro: Shadows Die Twice, is perhaps the most teeth-gnashingly, controller-flingingly difficult game I have played since the first Dark Souls. Of course, this being a From Software game, this shouldn’t come as any surprise, but the level to which Sekiro pushes the challenge to new frontiers has made me think about the concept of these ‘Souls-Like’ games.

Back in the mid-1980s to late-1990s, during the fourth generation console era, many games were so difficult that just finishing them was quite an accomplishment. Games like Battletoads, Ecco the Dolphin and Comix Zone required genuine dedication and fast reflexes to even get halfway through, and gaming in general was an activity based around skill.

As gaming has now become a mass-marketed industry, game design philosophy has shifted to appeal to a much wider audience that would be less inclined to engage in the level of difficulty in older games. It wasn’t so much about challenging players as much as it was about creating a smooth gameplay experience, where players didn’t spent hours failing over and over again as the game unflinchingly refused to budge. In other words, game design has adapted itself around the player. An obvious example of this is the RPG-like systems that are in many games now, such as the Far Cry series, in which you can enhance yourself with skills and upgrades to such a degree that gameplay becomes progressively smoother and faster. It’s ironic, then, that Sekiro is published by Activision, which has for the past decade been at the forefront of this mass-appeal game design with the Call of Duty and Destiny franchises.

From Software has carved a niche for itself in the modern gaming market with its Souls-Like games, including the Dark Souls series, Bloodborne, and now Sekiro. In these games, only the most necessary gameplay information is relayed to you; the rest you have to figure out yourself by playing and dying a lot. The Dark Souls series perfected this formula of old-fashioned game design for modern gamers. The bosses and enemies were tough, sure, but studying enemy attack patterns and building up muscle memory were surefire paths to victory. These games were good at showing you what you needed to do without outright telling you; the onus was on you to dedicate yourself to the task. The world of Dark Souls has its own logic, its own challenges and dangers, and it didn’t care if you found it too difficult or alienating.

Sekiro, released a few weeks ago, takes much of the gameplay design of Dark Souls and ramps up the difficulty (as if such a thing was possible). Gameplay is much faster now, and you must now rely on a larger palette of tools. While combat in Dark Souls was focused on judiciously attacking and dodging, Sekiro forces you to put yourself directly in harm’s way to relentlessly engage your enemy head-on, blocking and deflecting attacks instead of dodging them in order to wear them down. On top of that, the game’s more numerous bosses and mini-bosses are more aggressive than ever, some of them capable of slaughtering you in under 10 seconds.

The crucial element that makes Sekiro‘s bosses so much harder than Dark Souls is the complete lack of multiplayer. There are no helpful hints that players can drop before a boss fight, and you can’t summon friends to assist you in the actual fight. In Sekiro, you are on your own, and most of the bosses can murder you so quickly that there isn’t time to properly study their attacks and get a feel for their rhythm. The only way is to die, journey back to them, fight, die again, and repeat.

Such was the extreme difficulty that I found myself reaching outside the confines of the game and relying on YouTube guides to get through most bosses. Without these guides, I can safely say I would have lost interest in Sekiro purely through impenetrable difficulty, and this is coming from someone who has beaten all three Dark Souls games twice. There are players who are happy to take enormous punishment and try again without ever turning to outside help. I believe I reached my limit with Sekiro. In the absence of Dark Souls‘ in-game community-driven guides, Sekiro’s fan-driven guides that permeate YouTube and Wikias have filled the gap and for some players like myself, are an inseparable part of the experience.

From Software’s Souls-Like games have emphasized players working out how to overcome challenges through repetition. This was balanced by a slower pace that allows for an almost tactical decision making process. Sekiro pushes the concept to its absolute limit, thanks to its dramatically faster combat. Trying to study enemy attack patterns while simultaneously keeping up with the game’s frantic pace is a challenge unlike anything I’ve encountered, and there were numerous points at which I doubted I could even finish the game. This is the zenith of From Software’s commitment to old-fashioned game difficulty, and I’m glad they’re keeping up at it, even though desires of the opposite sometimes boil up within me during Sekiro‘s many unforgiving moments.