Rigorous analysis with a heavy dose of sarcasm. Built for film lovers who don't swallow Hollywood's marketing talk.
No editorial review on Claqueta Ácida yet.
We interview filmmaker Paco Plaza without filters in Valladolid after he received the Honorary PUFA. We review his career, his ghosts, and the hidden history of his cinema.
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«Ben Affleck directs a claustrophobic thriller where money cannot buy freedom, only the absolute certainty of failure.»
Jesse McKeown delivers a tale of geographic isolation disguised as a sea monster that barely manages to stay afloat in Under the Surface.
Odin Lagbert dissects Takashi Miike's Audition: a surgical treatise where horror doesn't reside in the needle, but in male complicity.
Diego Velasco delivers in The Whistler an exercise where resource scarcity lays bare the seams of the modern thriller.
Discover the release of Beware Boiúna in theaters and streaming.
Discover the release of Street Fighter in theaters and streaming.
A corrosive review that dissects Taylor Sheridan's series like a corpse of television malpractice.
A scathing critique that acknowledges the hits of Ruth Platt's unsettling work, but points out its lack of surprise and pacing.
A review that dissects the fifth installment of Insidious with sarcasm, hard data, and a touch of respect for the Blumhouse formula.
A review that unearths the industrial garbage of 'Head to Head: Marfil', the Pokeepsie Films scam that leaves you with a red account and a headache.
A half-working Airbnb horror comedy. Brandon Christensen captures the traveler's paranoia, but the script falls halfway. Rating: 5.8.
Jason Statham returns to the screen with a movie that reeks of sweat and cheap marketing. Acidic, unfiltered review.
A brutal dissection of the series Reacher that reveals its purulent tissue and the necrosis of its script, with clinical sarcasm and dark humor.
A submarine dive that drowns more than it breathes: Claqueta Ácida's critique of a thriller running out of air.
Snatch revisited with sarcasm: Ritchie blows up clichés, Brad Pitt insists on an impossible accent, and the audience pays €9.50 for a mountain of noise and style.
A sequel that smells rotten from the very first frame. Garland and DaCosta try to revive the genre, but the result is a technical knockout dressed up as a masterpiece.
An autopsy of a cheap thriller that only manages to irritate the viewer while they pay for their ticket.
An acidic critique of Lee Chang-dong's masterpiece, where suspense is brewed amidst coffee smoke and uncomfortable silences.
A biting review that dissects the mediocrity of Bloodline, the latest Blumhouse entry that promises blood but delivers routine.
A biting review of Pooka Lives! that acknowledges its hits but points out its lack of spark in an era saturated with creepypastas.
Barry Levinson turns prison drama into a feast of cruelty and redemption. Spoiler: forgiveness hurts more than the punches.
A scathing critique of the 1989 Pet Sematary, caught between nostalgia, horror, and a script that digs itself up with zero enthusiasm.
Leigh Whannell directs a sequel that tries to be more than just a Blumhouse product, but the result is a ghost thriller stuck halfway between art and the cash register.
An acidic critique of Valerie Buhagiar's unsettling yet predictable effort, where rural horror remains in the shadows.
