Max Payne
Max Payne
Max Payne è un poliziotto arrabbiato e determinato a vendicare la morte violenta della sua famiglia. Emotivamente instabile, Payne lavora all'archivio casi irrisolti, alimentando il suo dolore e la sua collera. La morte del suo ex collega e di una spregiudicata bellezza russa, affettata a suon di lama, lo induce a investigare nei bassifondi della città, armato di una doppia Beretta. Ossessionato dalla vendetta e perseguitato da demoni e angeli neri, scoprirà presto un legame tra gli omicidi. La verità farà male, il castigo sarà impietoso, la vendetta definitiva.
Richardha recensito
19 ottobre 2025•
I went in hoping for gritty noir, bullet time bravado and maybe a halfway decent adaptation of the game I used to play with headphones on and lights off.
What I got was Mark Wahlberg brooding through snowstorms, hallucinations and a plot that felt like it was written during a caffeine crash.
The first half teased something stylish, moody lighting, slow motion gunplay and a soundtrack that tried to convince me this was serious. But by the time the break hit, the audience had made their decision. Half of them didn’t return. I stayed, partly out of stubbornness, partly out of morbid curiosity.
Mila Kunis was there, technically. Ludacris played a cop, I think. Chris O'Donnell popped up just long enough to remind me he was still acting.
The whole thing felt like a fever dream of pharmaceutical conspiracies and winged hallucinations, with Wahlberg doing his best “I’m in pain” face for 99 minutes.
It wasn’t good. But it was something. A snow-drenched, slow motion stumble through grief and corporate nonsense.
And I’ll be honest, I kind of respect it for trying, even if it failed spectacularly.
I didn’t walk out. I endured it. And that’s more than I can say for half the cinema. Into the Plex library it goes, not because it’s great, but because it’s part of the journey.
Richardha recensito
19 ottobre 2025•
I went in hoping for gritty noir, bullet time bravado and maybe a halfway decent adaptation of the game I used to play with headphones on and lights off.
What I got was Mark Wahlberg brooding through snowstorms, hallucinations and a plot that felt like it was written during a caffeine crash.
The first half teased something stylish, moody lighting, slow motion gunplay and a soundtrack that tried to convince me this was serious. But by the time the break hit, the audience had made their decision. Half of them didn’t return. I stayed, partly out of stubbornness, partly out of morbid curiosity.
Mila Kunis was there, technically. Ludacris played a cop, I think. Chris O'Donnell popped up just long enough to remind me he was still acting.
The whole thing felt like a fever dream of pharmaceutical conspiracies and winged hallucinations, with Wahlberg doing his best “I’m in pain” face for 99 minutes.
It wasn’t good. But it was something. A snow-drenched, slow motion stumble through grief and corporate nonsense.
And I’ll be honest, I kind of respect it for trying, even if it failed spectacularly.
I didn’t walk out. I endured it. And that’s more than I can say for half the cinema. Into the Plex library it goes, not because it’s great, but because it’s part of the journey.
