Picking up right where the first film ends, Culpa Tuya pushes Nick and Noah deeper into infatuation, while their parents, William and Rafaella, attempt to drive a wedge between the step-siblings. Enter Sofia—a seductive and ‘more suitable’ match for Nick—and the tension escalates as Noah struggles with the emotional toll of his long-distance relationship. But the drama doesn’t stop here: lingering personal trauma and vengeful figures from their past add further strain to the couple’s bond.

Despite its label as a young adult romantic drama, the Culpa series seems to grapple with genre identity. Where Culpa Mia leaned into erotic territory, this sequel’s intimate scenes feel less organic, much like Noah’s tenuous relationship with her university counsellor, Michael. The thriller elements, teased in the first film through Noah’s menacing father, expand in the sequel with the arrival of Nick’s obsessive ex-girlfriend and estranged biological mother. Yet, the film never fully commits to any of these genres, opting instead to flirt with each one without anchoring itself in any. Perhaps, in embodying the unpredictability of Gen Z relationships—where infidelity feels almost inevitable—it stays truest to its young adult roots.

With interesting subplots and conflicts being created from all ends, Culpa Tuya errs a little too much on the side of caution. At the end, it still only manages to do what all other romantic dramas do, which is throw a spanner into a smooth-sailing relationship. The lead pair keep doubting each other while fighting their own demons, but not once do they try to understand their respective trauma. The continued use of ‘baby sister’ as a pet name from Nick—despite their long-term relationship—feels uncomfortably cringe. 

Culpable for its predictability, the film still manages to shine through from time to time. A surprising revelation and an unresolved ending set the stage for a potentially more refined and gripping third instalment, expected in 2025. However, rekindling the chemistry between the leads is essential, as their dynamic feels notably less intense here than in the first film. Despite its flaws, Culpa Tuya remains an irresistible guilty pleasure. Sometimes, the fun of watching a film also comprises finding fault with it—and that’s perfectly all right.

Rex Reed’s scalpel was particularly sharp in 2024, slicing through 43 films with the kind of ruthless precision only he can wield. This was the year he likened Mean Girls to “cinematic Covid,” torched Longlegs as a “dumpster fire,” and suggested that Cash Out had John Travolta so lost, “somebody stage an intervention.” For those seeking unfiltered truths about Hollywood’s latest offerings, Reed delivered—though not without a handful of pleasant surprises.

His ratings reveal a critic tough to impress: 28 percent of films earned 1 star, while 5 percent received the graveyard of zero stars. Horror films bore the brunt of his wrath—Longlegs and Heretic were sacrificed at the altar of his biting prose. Yet, amid the wreckage, 5 percent clawed their way to 4 stars, with dramas like One Life and Cabrini standing out for their emotional gravitas. Biopics, historical narratives and character studies fared best under his gaze, suggesting Reed still has a soft spot for films anchored in strong performances and rich storytelling.

One of the more controversial reviews? Reed’s glowing praise for Coup de Chance, which he called “Woody Allen’s best film in years.” In an industry where few dare applaud Allen publicly, Reed’s unapologetic endorsement (“unfairly derailed by obvious, headline-demanding personal problems”) was as bold as ever. Interestingly, the most-read review wasn’t the most positive—The Last Showgirl dazzled readers, perhaps more for the spectacle of Pamela Anderson’s Vegas reinvention than the film’s plot. It seems Reed’s audience enjoys his kinder takes, but they revel in his cinematic eviscerations just as much. When Reed loves a film, he ensures you know it—just as he ensures the worst offenders are left gasping for air.

I’m of two minds about that subgenre we call the hero/heroine with “particular skills” thriller.

The parade of Liam Neeson/Jason Statham/John Cena et al action pictures where this mobster, that rogue government or rogue government agency or creepy neighbor crosses this or that mild-mannered man or woman who turns out to be ex-CIA, a retired Marine, a former assassin or Navy SEAL has worn out its welcome.

Somebody effs around, somebody finds out they’ve “Taken” the wrong relative, crossed the wrong professional mayhem-maker. Yawn.

It’s always more interesting when somebody a lot more ordinary is tested by an extraordinary situation, and by people ostensibly a lot more capable of what Mr. or Ms. In Over Their Heads is attempting. “Three Days of the Condor” is the template for this sort of film. A more recent example is the snowplow operator tracking down and avenging himself on his son’s mob killers — “In Order of Disappearance.”

Throwing somebody with one “particular skill” that doesn’t include violence, criminal or espionage subterfuge or the like? As an exercise in screenwriting problem-solving that’s almost always a fun film to watch. That’s why I have high hopes for Rami Malek’s upcoming spring fling, “The Amateur.”

Let’s hope that’s as good as the lurid, violent and tight-as-a-drum Belgian thriller, “Night Call.” A young man (Jonathan Feltre) is tricked, trapped and life-or-death tested by one long night at work.

Mady is a student, we gather, and a native-born Belgian with a thing for Petula Clark ’60s pop — in French. His night gig is as a locksmith. On this one night, that job will get him into trouble despite his best efforts to avoid it. And his “particular skills” and the tools of his trade will come in handy just enough to make you mutter, “clever, clever boy” at the screen and what writer-diector Michiel Blanchart has cooked-up for his feature filmmaking debut.

Mady’s the guy you summon when you’ve locked yourself out of your car, business or flat in the wee hours. He’s professional, courteous and honest. No, the quoted price — 250 Euros — is all you owe.

He’s also careful. The young woman named Claire (Natacha Krief) summons him to a Brussels flat she’s locked out of. She doesn’t have the €250. It’s in her purse, in her flat. With her keys. No, that’s where her ID is, too. As she’s flirted, just a bit, and the streets all around them are consumed by Black Lives Matter protests because Black people die at the hands of white cops in Belgium, too, he takes her word for it.

Mady might be the last to figure out that her last lie, about “taking out the trash” (in French with English subtitles) and hitting the ATM downstairs, is her get-away. When she rings him up and warns him to “Get OUT of there” (in French with subtitles) he’s still slow on the uptake.

That’s when the apartment’s real resident, a musclehead with a punching bag and lots of Nazi paraphrenalia on the walls, shows up and tries to beat Mady to death. He fails.

But can a young Black man call the possibly racist cops about what’s happened and have them believe him? Maybe not. It’s when he’s trying to “clean” the scene of the “crime” that he’s nabbed, and his night of hell escalates into torture, threats and attempts to escape from the mobster (Romain Duris at his most sadistic) in pursuit of stolen loot and the “real” thief, the elusive but somehow conscience-stricken “Claire.”

As Hitchcock always said, “Good villains make good thrillers.” Duris, recently seen in the French “The Three Musketeers” and “The Animal Kingdom,” famous for “The Spanish Apartment” and “Chinese Puzzle,”, is the classic thriller “reasonable man” heavy.

“Either you become a friend, or a problem,” his Yannick purrs, in between pulling the garbage bag off the suffocating kids’ head, only to wrap Mady’s face in duct tape, a more creative bit of asphyxiation.

The spice that Blanchart seasons his thriller with is the backdrop — street protests, with Black protesters furious that Mady isn’t joining them and riot police pummeling and arresting every Black face in sight. That’s jarringly contrasted by the oasis-of-calm subway and unconcerned discos where Mady chases clues and Claire.

A getaway on a stolen bicycle, dashing through streets and down into a subway station, suspense via frantic escapes, frantic bits of outwitting or outfighting crooks and cops, a decent confrontation with the not-cute-enough-to-excuse-all-this Claire and a satisfying “ticking clock” finale?

That’s what makes a good thriller. And if those “particular skills” show up here and there, at least we know Mady’s learned something on a job that if he lives to finish school, won’t be his career.

Rating: unrated, graphic violence, sex scenes in a brothel

Cast: Jonathan Feltre, Natacha Krief, Jonas Bloquet, Thomas Mustin and Romain Duris.

Credits: Scripted and directed by Michiel Blanchart. A Magnet release.

Running time: 1:37