imaseed

This is a film that has ideas and has "da vibez," but lacks the ability to bring them to life. The Heart Killers came to me as a contradiction—in its expectations, in the reviews, and in the feelings of those who had seen it. There was praise and there was criticism, and it seemed this was not an easy watch for everyone. In other words, one’s feeling about the film is entirely a matter of taste, and this time, it fell outside of mine.

This is a strange film. I had to exclaim that it was "strange" multiple times while watching—it was beyond my imagination, beyond my threshold for acceptance, and yet simultaneously below it. This time, "strange" is not a compliment. Before I dwell on its strangeness, I want to talk about what the film did well. First, the idea: a freelance tattoo artist, whose main concern is his younger brother, is "hired" to seduce an assassin to uncover the mastermind behind the deaths of several high-society figures, all in exchange for having his criminal record wiped clean. Meanwhile, his friend, a car mechanic—a tough, somewhat reckless, defiant, and fearless soul—joins the plan to "seduce" another assassin to help his friend succeed. The "seduce them for the mission" trope is always an interesting one, offering a safe path to creating a film that is sufficiently humorous, dramatic, thrilling, and even heartbreaking. The moment the heart killer is discovered by the literal killer is also the moment he realizes the heart he just stabbed is his own—this is the "peak" moment I always anticipate, the turning point that activates a cascade of heightened emotions. This trope will always lead to that trigger—successfully or not—and I had every right to be hopeful. And indeed, The Heart Killers followed the roadmap perfectly. It wasn't innovative, but it was safe enough to keep me invested: there were clear motives, a lighthearted and humorous "seduction" phase, budding feelings, the thrill of nearly being discovered, the shattering moment of discovery, reconciliation, and finally, teaming up. It even threw in a sharp turn at the end to ramp up the pace for a completely satisfying conclusion. The film's color grading and cinematography also made an effort to build a fairly "cinematic" atmosphere; the scenes didn't feel "low-budget" and showed a certain level of investment.

However, within these points of praise lie obvious flaws. What the film produced was a promising idea, a by-the-book plot progression, and polished scenes—but the one crucial element needed to make it a good film was invisible: connection. If making a film is like putting together a jigsaw puzzle, The Heart Killers had the frame and all the pieces, but somehow, the person assembling it couldn't make them fit. The edges of the pieces were overlapping, misaligned, and unable to touch. Some parts were missing, others were superfluous. The final result is a clunky, uneven picture. To be precise, this picture lacks smoothness. The first time I noticed this was after finishing an episode and feeling no compulsion to watch the next (perhaps this would be less apparent if I watched it weekly, but when binged, this flaw becomes glaring). The plot points lack the glue to connect everything, including the viewer, to the film. The very structure, which clearly divides the narrative between two couples, makes the composition feel disjointed, dry, and disconnected. This lack of connection doesn't just exist within the film itself but also creates an emotional disconnect between the film and the viewer (not to mention that the interactions between characters sometimes feel lacking).

And in a film this "patchwork," the acting becomes a critical element to discuss. This time, First and Khaotung delivered solid performances. Perhaps thanks in part to a more fluid and fitting script, the loveline between their characters, Bison and Kant, felt more genuine, mature, and logical to me. From their initial impressions of each other to Bison falling into the trap and pulling the heart-killer Kant down with him, to the truth being revealed, Bison's desire for revenge (for hatred is a sign of lingering love), and Kant's own confirmation of his feelings (though the psychological development here felt a bit abrupt—resolved after a single conversation?), they reconcile and become an official couple. This arc was a relatively peaceful current, with only occasional moments meant to emphasize Bison's dangerous, unhinged nature. Otherwise, their relationship was low on drama. Even the BDSM element (beyond just adding aesthetic flair) was cleverly implemented to create a high-stakes payoff during the climax (the penguin), which made me appreciate its purpose and prevented it from feeling like mere fanservice or cringe. Yet, for some reason, First and Khaotung's chemistry this time around didn't feel explosive. They fulfilled their roles, and their relationship was stable, but it was missing that certain spark. Was it the maturity of the relationship? Or was this dynamic simply not to my taste?

Next, we must discuss Fadel and Style's storyline. In contrast to Kant and Bison, their relationship felt clunky, awkward, and far more turbulent. First, I must acknowledge the improvement in Joong and Dunk's acting (mostly Joong—the last film I saw him in was *Star in My Mind*, so his progress felt significant. Dunk also tried, but generally still came across as stiff and not fully immersed in his role). But for whatever reason, the romantic development between their characters felt forced. Fadel's psychological shift was present but difficult to trace, making him feel out of character at times. It was hard for me to pinpoint the specific "sparkle" moment between Fadel and Style; their relationship remained ambiguous and hard to define. I understood they were in love, but my own feelings were conflicted, which I found odd: at times it was cheesy, at others dry, sometimes logical, sometimes nonsensical. This, in turn, made me question their performance. What if Kant and Bison's storyline was smoother simply because the actors carried it?

Beyond these contradictions, the film suffers from several plot holes and logical inconsistencies. Why would the police send a tattoo artist with a prior theft conviction to investigate a dangerous assassin syndicate (a point many have raised)? Why would Kant lure his friend, Style, into a perilous plan involving contact with a killer? Why would the villainess behind it all murder an entire family just to adopt the child and train him as her assassin—why not just adopt an orphan? Why were there so few people involved in such critical missions (like the revenge plot in the final episode)? The scene where Fadel and Style meet the two uncles on the road was also very contrived (it existed only to resolve their conflict and set up the iconic bathtub scene). In short, it felt like the filmmakers came up with certain scenes first and then tried to build supporting details around them to justify their existence. These elements became mere tools to get to the "important" scenes they wanted, without investing equal effort into every part of the story. This turns certain details and characters into disposable plot devices, easily forgotten, and contributes to the lack of cohesion in the overall picture. This focus on specific puzzle pieces also obscures the ultimate meaning. The film's messages—letting go of the past, looking to the future, violence is not the solution, learn to love yourself and let yourself be loved—are mostly delivered through unnatural-sounding philosophical lines and are not clearly woven throughout the narrative. It all becomes incomprehensible when, after getting out of prison, Fadel and Bison—with Style, Kant, and their families watching—choose to kill Lily.

In conclusion, The Heart Killers has potential and many opportunities to stand out, but its filmmaking approach is clichéd and unpolished. This results in a journey that is bumpy, uneven, and ultimately not smooth or easy enough to swallow for my taste.