Vikings S1 & 2

 

Review of Vikings – Seasons 1 & 2

(Spoiler-free • From the perspective of a fan who liked it)

Vikings hits the ground with a gritty, atmospheric energy that few historical dramas pull off. Seasons 1 and 2 form a tight, compelling arc that mixes ambition, family loyalty, faith, brutality, and political maneuvering into something that feels both mythic and grounded. If you enjoy character-driven dramas framed by believable world-building and just the right amount of historical flavor, these first two seasons deliver.

---

⚔️ Season 1 – A Slow Burn with Purpose

Season 1 sets the tone: muddy villages, smoky halls, cold seas, and a culture that feels alive rather than textbook. The pacing is deliberate—but never dull—and the show earns every bit of tension it builds.

• Ragnar Lothbrok makes an incredible lead: curious, clever, stubborn, and quietly magnetic.

• The show leans heavily into Viking spirituality and mythology in a way that feels authentic rather than theatrical.

• The first raids and battles are visually raw, not Hollywood-glossy, which helps the world feel real.

• The family dynamics—especially Ragnar and Lagertha—are genuinely some of the best parts.

Season 1 is basically the rise of a man with a vision, and the show takes its time letting that vision clash with tradition. If you enjoy character development and cultural immersion, Season 1 is outstanding.

---

🛡️ Season 2 – Bigger, Brutal, and Far More Political

Season 2 is where the show levels up. Everything gets more intense—relationships, rivalries, and the scale of power plays.

• More battles, more travel, and more exploration.

• Internal conflict ramps up, especially between characters who were allies in Season 1.

• The political scheming takes center stage and keeps the story unpredictable.

• Supporting characters get stronger arcs, which makes the world feel larger.

If Season 1 was about establishing the world, Season 2 is about expanding it—and it pays off. The stakes feel higher, the character choices hit harder, and the show gains momentum that carries directly into later seasons.

---

🎥 What Makes Both Seasons Work

• Strong characters grounded in messy, human flaws

• Authentic atmosphere—the dirt, the danger, the rituals

• A believable Viking perspective, not filtered through modern sensibilities

• Beautiful yet harsh cinematography

• Just enough mysticism to feel mythic without turning into fantasy

It’s violent and raw, but not gratuitous; thoughtful but not slow; and character-driven without losing the epic feel.

---

⭐ Overall Impressions

As someone who liked the show, these first two seasons feel like the perfect blend of grounded history and engrossing drama. The character arcs are memorable, the conflicts feel earned, and the Viking worldview is presented with surprising nuance.

If you’re looking for a historical drama with grit, heart, and a sense of destiny, Vikings Season 1 and 2 are a fantastic ride.

Frankenstein (2025)

Frankenstein (2025)

From the opening frames, it’s clear that Guillermo del Toro has brought a sweeping, gothic grandeur to this retelling of Frankenstein; or, The Modern Prometheus that more modest adaptations rarely achieve. The production design, cinematography, and score all come together in a lush package that does full justice to the novel’s dark heart and del Toro’s own aesthetic. The creature’s design is haunting and human, and the performance from Jacob Elordi conveys intelligence, sorrow, and emotional breadth in a way that elevates the familiar monster myth.

What really struck me is how the film balances spectacle with emotion. Oscar Isaac as Victor Frankenstein is equally driven by hubris and grief, and the dynamic between creator and creation becomes the emotional core of the story. The narrative doesn’t shy away from the consequences of playing God, but it also makes the Creature a sympathetic figure rather than a mere horror trope. Reviewers have praised this reframing of the Creature’s journey.

If I have a critique, it’s that at times the film feels slightly overstuffed—plenty happens, and the themes of identity, otherness, forgiveness and vengeance are all present in force. Some viewers may feel the messaging is a bit heavy-handed. But if you’re willing to go along for the ride, the emotional payoff and visual ambition are more than worth it.

Overall: yes, I agree with you — it’s great. It takes the classic Frankenstein story, respects it, but also reinvents it in a way that feels fresh, emotionally grounded and visually rich. If you’re into big, bold cinematic reinterpretations of enduring myths, this one hits hard.

Vengeance of the Moon Knight #5–9 (2024)

 

WHAT DID YOU MISS? CLICK HERE  

Vengeance of the Moon Knight #5–9 (2024)

Written by Jed MacKay, Vengeance of the Moon Knight picks up in the aftermath of Marc Spector’s death during Moon Knight (2021). The title becomes less about vengeance and more about resurrection—of gods, of faith, and of the fractured identity that defines Moon Knight.

Issues #5–6 find Khonshu imprisoned in an Asgardian cell, his influence cut off from Earth. Meanwhile, the remnants of the Midnight Mission—Reese and 8-Ball—continue Moon Knight’s legacy by fighting the growing vampire threat that’s crept into New York’s shadows. Their teamwork, shaky at first, becomes one of the human anchors of the series. It’s a reminder that the Mission endures even without its messiah.

Issues #7–8 shift focus to Tigra and the enigmatic Black Spectre, whose uneasy alliance leads to the breakout of Khonshu. The jailbreak sequence is one of the arc’s visual and thematic peaks: divine imprisonment meets mortal manipulation. Once freed, Khonshu’s return sets the stage for the series’ true resurrection—his champion’s.

By issue #9, the circle closes. Moon Knight is restored to life, but Khonshu’s control re-emerges in full force. The god demands vengeance not just on Moon Knight’s enemies, but on the false Moon Knight who has been operating in his name. Marc complies—but in a twist worthy of MacKay’s psychological nuance, he kills only the persona, not the man. The symbolic act restores Moon Knight’s autonomy while keeping his morality intact.
The final issue re-establishes Marc Spector as the living Moon Knight, servant of Khonshu yet again—but now wiser, tempered, and more self-aware. The cycle of death and rebirth feels complete, if only temporarily.

✍️ Review

Jed MacKay brings his long-running Moon Knight saga to a concise and thematically rich conclusion. Although Vengeance of the Moon Knight ran only nine issues, it reads like a spiritual coda to everything MacKay built in the previous series.


Tone and Writing: MacKay keeps the voice tight and moody, balancing mythic weight with street-level grit. His handling of Reese, Tigra, and 8-Ball gives the supporting cast more emotional depth than they’ve had in years. The pacing remains brisk, but the story never feels rushed—every issue advances both plot and character recovery.


Themes: Resurrection, identity, and autonomy dominate the arc. Moon Knight’s final act—destroying a persona rather than a person—perfectly encapsulates what separates him from Khonshu. It’s an elegant metaphor for reclaiming selfhood after divine manipulation.


Art: The artwork (by Devmalya Pramanik) maintains the stark contrasts and symbolic lighting that defined the earlier run. The use of whites and silvers against oppressive darkness feels both holy and haunted, matching the narrative tone.


Verdict:
Vengeance of the Moon Knight #5–9 closes out MacKay’s Moon Knight saga with precision and emotional clarity. Though short, it completes the resurrection trilogy—Khonshu freed, Marc restored, and the Mission renewed.
It’s less a superhero story and more a meditation on identity and servitude, told through capes, gods, and blood. Fans of MacKay’s previous Moon Knight run will find it a fitting and satisfying conclusion—melancholy, resolute, and strangely hopeful.

⭐ Overall: 8.5 / 10
A compact, character-driven finale that honors the myth while finally letting Marc Spector breathe again under the moonlight.

Did you like these books? Wanna buy them? Check this title and several others for sale at my ebay page at:
https://www.ebay.com/str/comicapocalypse

Invincible Iron Man (2022) #18-20 (series finale)

WHAT DID YOU MISS? CLICK HERE

Over the course of the Duggan run, Tony Stark has been dragged deeper and deeper into the Orchis / mutant conflict. Orchis’ destruction of Krakoa’s base and the fallout for mutantkind has created a high bar for resolution. By #18–20, the story accelerates toward a reckoning: it’s not just a boardroom fight anymore, but a personal, lethal showdown. As many commentators note, #20 is being treated as Duggan’s finale on the title, tying into the end of the Krakoan era. 

In #18, Tony is already wounded but unbowed. He storms into Feilong’s stronghold, dragging the secretive rival into open conflict. Yet Duggan doesn’t lean on brute force alone — he layers in intrigue: Feilong’s A.I. entanglement, Nimrod’s insertion, and Magneto’s reluctant hand. Some reviews praise the dynamism and intensity of that action. Others (e.g. Weird Science Marvel) bristle at tonal swings and sudden plot pivots, calling the issue “corny.” 

Meanwhile, the sidelined threads (Rhodey’s frame, the Living Laser / Sandman alliance) begin to converge. Rhodey breaks out of prison by shrinking into a micro War Machine suit (a classic Stark trick) and enlists laser and sand to help. The jailbreak is tone-shifting—fun, chaotic, and a little absurd—which is precisely the sort of scene that divides readers.

In #19, Duggan pares away distractions and lines up the final confrontation: the allies, the betrayals, the logistics. It’s a connective issue, one that some critics say “ties off threads” before the emotional final push.


Then #20 moves into adjudication. Orchis is dismantled (or at least cut down), legal and extralegal consequences are meted out, and Tony must face both the personal and the structural costs of this war. Jennifer Walters removes the trumped-up charges against Rhodes; Emma offers Tony financial rescue—but in classic Frost fashion, with caveats. The twist ending sends Feilong into cosmic exile (on Mars, in a dome) and gives Tony & Emma a bittersweet break-up plus a lingering psychic bond.

The closing sequence, with Crimson Dynamo gatecrashing a book signing and Tony improvising a “gel amber” trap, feels like a postscript, but one earned through Tony’s style.

Did you like these books? Wanna buy them? Check this title and several others for sale at my ebay page at:

https://www.ebay.com/str/comicapocalypse

Incredible Hulk (2023) #11-14

WHAT DID YOU MISS? CLICK HERE for the last issues in this series.

Incredible Hulk (2023) #11–14

Reading issues #11 through #14, I kept waiting for the arc to cohere — and honestly, it never quite did for me. The story introduces Charlie (who has been traveling with Banner), only to trap her soul inside a Frozen Charlotte doll/construct, which forces Hulk/Banner to hunt for mystical help. In #12, they head to Strange Academy seeking Doctor Strange, but end up dealing with Doctor Voodoo and the dark Soul Cage ritual to rescue her. By #13, Banner and Hulk’s souls are literally separated and sent into a prison realm of magic and monsters to find Sumanguru (a sorcerer who can “weave souls into flesh”) and restore Charlie.

What worked (sometimes):
-When the arc leaned into horror, mysticism, and body/soul horror, there were flashes of promise. The concept of splitting Banner and Hulk to confront internal/mystical threats is compelling. #13, in particular, makes an effort to tie the monster hunts into a journey with stakes, rather than purely episodic slogs.


-The surprise of how Voodoo’s magic operates — forcing Banner’s soul into a cage, having Hulk hold off external threats — is an interesting twist, and gives something more than just brute force to the conflict.


-Artist Nic Klein’s return in #12 is often cited as a positive. Reviewers say his layouts and visual pacing elevate the issue.

What missed / what faltered:
-Lack of momentum / plot drift: The arc spends a lot of pages on “monster of the week” fights (Frozen Charlotte, other mystical creatures) without progressing the larger narrative thread (the Eldest, Mother of Horrors) in any meaningful way. Many reviews feel Johnson is stalling or sidetracking. Confusing magic rules & world-building: The soul cage mechanics, how Frozen Charlotte is formed or tied to Charlie’s soul, and the role of these mystical beings (Sumanguru, Flesh Weaver, etc.) often feel underexplained or dropped into the middle of fights. Sometimes the revelations come during combat, which undercuts pacing. Tone inconsistency / trying too hard: The series sometimes wobbles between cosmic/horror, monster action, and superhero melodrama in ways that don’t always mesh. Some emotional beats (Charlie’s plight, Banner’s inner struggle) aren’t given enough breathing space to land.


-Art inconsistency: The switch from Danny Earls (issue #11) to Nic Klein (starting in #12) is jarring. Issue #11 gets criticized for uneven figure work, weak layouts, and lackluster action until late in the issue.


-Emotional weight is thin: Charlie as a character hasn’t earned deep investment in many fans’ eyes, so making her soul the emotional anchor sometimes feels hollow. Some reviewers say she “feels unnecessary” in the narrative right now.
Final Word

I get why you’re struggling with this run — it feels like it’s trying to recapture the haunting power of Immortal Hulk (Ewing/Bennett) without fully committing to the consistency, pacing, or sense of dread that made that run resonate. There are good ideas here — soul splitting, mysticism, dark rituals — but they feel undercooked, episodic, and disconnected from a strong through-line.

If I were grading #11–14, I might land somewhere around a 6 to 6.5 / 10: not bad, interesting at times, but frustratingly uneven and often lacking cohesion. I hope the next few issues tighten things up (re-establish clearer rules, stabilize the creative team, and double down on stakes) so readers who want to get hooked will find a stronger foothold.

Not everyone is Al Ewing and Joe Bennett. It's ok to find your own way here. If I see a GREEN DOOR, I'm out on this series.

Did you like this book? Wanna buy it? Check this title and several others for sale at my ebay page at: https://www.ebay.com/str/comicapocalypse

Adolescence (2025)

Adolescence (2025)

(Spoilers ahead — read only after watching!)

Adolescence is a breathtaking feat of filmmaking — not just for its emotional depth, but for its sheer technical mastery. Each episode unfolds in one continuous shot, an ambitious choice that demands perfection from every performer and crew member. There’s no safety net here: every camera movement, every breath, every glance must be intentional. The result is an almost theatrical experience that pulls you into the characters’ world without interruption. You don’t just watch their pain — you sit in it with them.

The story itself is raw and deeply moving, exploring the ripples of tragedy through one family’s eyes. What makes it unforgettable is how the show balances restraint with emotional honesty. Scenes aren’t cut for convenience — they breathe, unfold, and build naturally, giving every moment a devastating authenticity.

One standout moment comes when Jamie decides to tell his father he’s changing his plea. The choice to stage this revelation during a phone call — with the rest of the family silently listening — is a masterstroke in direction and writing. The audience feels the weight of that silence; the heartbreak and shock reverberate through the car without a single line spoken. It’s one of the most quietly powerful moments in recent television, and it speaks volumes about guilt, love, and the limits of understanding.

The performances are uniformly excellent, but what elevates the series is its unity — the way the acting, directing, and cinematography fuse into one unbroken emotional current. It’s intimate and unflinching, yet tender in its humanity.

In the end, Adolescence is more than a story of a crime; it’s a meditation on family, grief, and forgiveness. Beautifully shot, brilliantly acted, and meticulously directed, it’s essential viewing for any parent — not because it’s easy, but because it asks the hard questions about what it means to love, to fail, and to try again.

Highly recommended.

28 Days Later (2002)

Danny Boyle’s 28 Days Later is one of those films that proves you don’t need a massive budget to create something unforgettable. From the very first shots of a deserted London, it hooks you with its eerie, almost surreal atmosphere. The stripped-down, indie vibe gives it a raw intensity—you feel like you’re right there, stumbling through an emptied city with danger lurking around every corner.

The film is terrifying not just because of the “infected,” but because of the way it’s shot. The use of digital video gives the movie a gritty, unsettling realism, amplifying every shadow and every movement. Boyle’s choice to lean into minimalism pays off—it’s scarier precisely because it feels so plausible.

The story itself is strong and tightly paced, blending survival horror with deeper questions about humanity, morality, and what people become under extreme pressure. The characters feel real and flawed, which makes the horror hit that much harder.

All told, 28 Days Later is a landmark horror film—scary, stylishly shot, and surprisingly thoughtful. Its indie energy and low-budget edge give it a unique personality that still stands out today.