MOVIE REVIEW – There are bad films, and then there are the ones that fail on every conceivable level. With Friends Like These is squarely in the latter category: a project so desperate to matter that watching it becomes a chore. The result is a pompous, overacted, overwrought slog where everything feels forced — and by the time the credits roll, you’ll be more interested in going to bed than spending another second with these characters.

On paper, Kristóf Deák’s film promises a tense chamber drama: four characters, one house party, buried grievances bubbling to the surface. It’s the kind of setup that could work — if the whole thing didn’t play out like a drama school final exam. The actors don’t perform; they declaim. The dialogue isn’t conversation; it’s a series of self-important monologues someone clearly believed to be “profound” and “truthful.” And if that weren’t enough, the film’s pacing is as clunky as a three-wheeled bike pushed uphill by drunken bears.

Every single scene is overwritten and overplayed. Characters constantly spell out exactly what they’re feeling — or what they’re supposed to be feeling — when silence, gestures, or even a glance could convey far more. Instead, the film unfolds like a theater rehearsal where the director’s only note was “play it intense.” The result? We watch from the outside, struggling to ignore the cardboard dialogue while never once becoming emotionally invested.

When Dialogue Tires You Instead of Moving You

With Friends Like These’s biggest flaw is its screenplay. There’s no natural speech, no organic reactions — just contrived, overanalyzed lines that sound more like excerpts from a stage reading than real conversation. The characters don’t communicate; they talk past one another, often for minutes at a time, delivering pseudo-philosophical monologues that are neither clever nor insightful. The only reaction they provoke is exhaustion — the kind where you check your watch and wonder how much longer you have to endure this theatrical self-flagellation.

The structure is no better. What should be a steadily escalating drama meanders pointlessly: tension rises and falls predictably, twists land without weight, and by the time the third “big emotional meltdown” hits, it’s impossible to care who’s arguing with whom. The film’s sole objective seems to be to constantly remind you how “serious” and “important” it is — yet it forgets to entertain, surprise, or offer any emotional depth.

Stage Play on a Movie Screen? Not Quite

Deák’s direction feels like a filmed stage production — and not in a good way. Cinema demands nuance, subtext, and visual storytelling; this film offers none of that. Long static shots, exaggerated gestures, and heavy-handed symbolism make every scene feel like an attempt to “film-ify” a theater piece, but the result is nothing more than exhausting effort.

The performances don’t save it either. Laura Döbrösi and Dalma Tenki clearly give it their all, but overdirection and relentless overacting often push the drama into parody. Scenes meant to be heartbreaking or cathartic instead come across as painfully artificial. The characters don’t feel like people; they feel like archetypes — “the bitter ex,” “the moralizing intellectual,” “the emotionally unavailable one” — stereotypes we’ve all seen a thousand times, just done better elsewhere.

At some points, the film’s dramatic moments become unintentionally comedic. As characters pile trauma upon trauma, instead of drawing us deeper into their inner lives, they only push us further away. And in a chamber piece, that’s the cardinal sin: if you stop caring about what happens to the people on screen, the film has already lost.

A Whole Lot of Nothing, Made With a Whole Lot of Effort

Perhaps the most infuriating thing about With Friends Like These is how hard it tries to be “important.” Every scene, every line, every performance screams, “Something big is happening here.” But it’s not. The film offers no new insight into human relationships, no fresh perspective on processing the past or the nature of forgiveness — just recycled clichés dressed up and dragged out far too long. By the time the credits roll, you won’t be contemplating its themes; you’ll be struggling to remember anything you just watched.

And that’s the fatal flaw: the film doesn’t just fail to resonate — it wastes your time. A great chamber drama leaves you shaken, thoughtful, eager to discuss. After With Friends Like These, you’ll just be grateful you never have to sit through it again. That’s not a misstep in execution; it’s a failure of conception.

– Gergely Herpai “BadSector” –