-an OD of Toughts-

If someone had told me that the most emotionally honest Maltese film of the year would be about a woman trying to sell some inherited land while being gently dragged back into rural life by an 80‑year‑old folk singer, I would have laughed, asked if it was a joke, then gone straight home and watched F1 instead.   And yet here we are. Zejtune, directed by Alex Camilleri, is exactly that film: a quiet, low‑hype, home‑grown Maltese drama that looks, on paper, about as exciting as a Land Registry meeting, and ends up feeling like a long, awkwardly honest conversation with your own conscience about whether you’re allowed to leave the island or not.   The Plot, In As Few Dramatic Words As Possible   Mar is a young Maltese woman who’s decided she’s done with Malta. After a complicated relationship with her mother ends with her death, she’s left with a complicated legacy and a chunk of farmland she doesn’t want. Her plan is straightforward: sell the land, cut the li...

There are films that try to impress you with car chases, explosions, and last‑minute plot twists. And then there is Perfect Days (2023), a film about a middle‑aged man who spends his days cleaning public toilets in Tokyo and somehow ends up feeling like the most emotionally together person on Earth.   Directed by Wim Wenders, the film is a slow, meditative stroll through the life of Hirayama, a Tokyo toilet cleaner played with extraordinary stillness by Kōji Yakusho. It is not a loud film. It is not a flashy film. It is barely even a “film” in the conventional sense of the word. It is closer to a series of observations, a calendar of moods, and a love letter to the ordinary. On paper, the premise sounds like the kind of comedy set‑up that would be ruined by a punchline. A man wakes up early, washes his face, grabs a can of coffee, heads to a public toilet, scrubs, mops, sorts trash, and then goes home. Repeat. That is literally the plot. Repeat with minor variations. ...

There are films that entertain you, films that impress you, and films that quietly stroll up behind you, hit you over the head with a hammer, and then ask whether you have been emotionally available lately. Her is very much in the third category. On the surface, this is a science fiction love story about a man who falls in love with his operating system. Which, if you say it quickly, sounds like the sort of premise dreamed up by someone who has spent too long in a room full of scented candles and technical jargon. But the extraordinary thing about Her is that it never feels silly for a second. It feels sad, tender, intelligent, and, worst of all, completely plausible. That is the real trick of the film. It begins with an idea that sounds absurd and then quietly proves that the absurdity is only there because the rest of us are pretending not to notice what modern life is doing to us. We have all become increasingly dependent on machines to organize our lives, filter our relationships, ...

The Whale is a bloody brilliant gut-punch of a film that hits like a freight train driven by grief, guilt, and far too much takeaway. Directed by Darren Aronofsky , the man who once turned obsession into cinematic torture in Requiem for a Dream , this raw and relentless drama traps you inside a grim apartment with Charlie, played by Brendan Fraser . Charlie is a reclusive English teacher trying to reconnect with his daughter before time runs out. What follows is intense, uncomfortable, and deeply human. This is not just a film you watch. It lingers long after the credits roll. Why The Whale is a modern masterpiece Brendan Fraser delivers a career-defining performance that goes far beyond acting. He does not present Charlie as a victim but as a man overwhelmed by pain, love, and a stubborn flicker of hope. Every movement feels real, every expression cuts deep. It is the kind of performance that makes you forget there is a camera at all, and it is no surprise it earned him an Academy Awa...

Peaky Blinders: The Immortal Man — Why Sometimes the Engine Shouldn’t Be Restarted I adored Peaky Blinders . Truly. It was television that growled rather than spoke — a powerhouse of grit, swagger, and cinematic brilliance that made other dramas look like they were running on fumes. So, when word spread that a Peaky Blinders movie was coming, I was thrilled. Finally, the Shelby clan would roar onto the big screen, all pistons firing. But what we got instead feels like someone swapped the petrol for oat milk — impressive in theory, catastrophic in delivery. The atmosphere and performances? Still impeccable. Cillian Murphy remains effortlessly magnetic; every cigarette he lights could be framed as art. The music? Top-tier, darkly elegant, and moody. Yet somewhere along the way, the storytelling lost its spark plugs. The pacing lurches like a classic car with a misfiring engine. The script staggers from brilliance to bewilderment, like it’s searching for a gear that isn’t there. And whil...

When a respected Maltese chef says the situation is “dramatic,” it’s not a soundbite for the evening news. It’s a clinical diagnosis. It’s the medical report of a system going into respiratory failure while still smiling in the dining room, napkin folded into a swan. Malta’s catering industry has never been so celebrated—and never so alone. Michelin-level ambition, storytelling, gastronomic tourism, TV cook-off shows, and influencers shedding tears over a plate of pastizzi or rabbit stew. Yet behind the kitchen door marked “Staff Only”, there’s often no one left inside. This isn’t romantic nostalgia. The sector is missing hundreds of workers across restaurants, bars, and hotels. Industry leaders warn that labour shortages could deepen if recruitment bottlenecks persist, with Third Country National workers now the backbone of daily operations. A 2024 survey commissioned by the Association of Catering Establishments (ACE) confirmed the crisis, citing enormous oversaturation, licensing is...