Reviews
[Review] ‘Sekiro: Shadows Die Twice’ is a Beautiful, Brutal Ballet of Butchery
From Software has done it again. Find out why this trip to ancient Japan is worth your time in Bloody Disgusting’s Sekiro Shadows Die Twice review.
Sekiro: Shadows Die Twice is quite different from its spiritual elder siblings, but it still captures something rather important that is found in all of them.
In the last ten years of From Software games, there’s that special moment where the relative calm of the opening moments is clearly about to end and you take a hesitant step towards what will be the first of many, many challenges. The excitement comes from not knowing exactly what’s next and how you can get past it.
The learning experience of each battle, each failure, each triumph, is the intoxicating lifeblood of Demon’s Souls, Dark Souls, Bloodborne, and now Sekiro. The world is broken and enchanting, but when your sword is raised to meet your opponent, that melts away into intense, brutal, and highly satisfying combat.
Sekiro is From Software’s latest unforgiving opus. Set in ancient Japan, you are a Shinobi, tasked with rescuing your Lord and master (a child of an important bloodline) and venture through a world on fire thanks to the ongoing war. Gone is the very European fantasy style of the Souls games and the Gothic horror of Bloodborne, now there’s a more historical reality to your surroundings, albeit tinged with some fantastical elements that become more apparent as you progress.

There’s a bit of the looping back to old areas you’d expect, but this is a sprawling world, cut into large segments in a rather subtle manner. Exploration is thoroughly rewarding here too because there are so many hidden paths and areas that require a keen eye. Even before the later parts of the game throw some striking examples of scenic variety your way, there’s plenty of detail and difference in each place you visit.
What’s immediately alarming to seasoned Soulsborne players is discovering there is just one character, with a name and a voice, and that there’s no stamina bar, no classes, and no different weapons. Everyone gets the same starter pack of skills and abilities. There’s no multiplayer summons, no messages from other players to give hints (or be devious), and if you’ve been comfortable with shields and slow caution? Sorry bub, not happening here.
This makes it sound like quite a radical departure, and beneath the surface it really is, but as noted before, the ‘Soul’ of what makes From Software’s games tick is still very much there, it’s just been refashioned into something new and exciting. So don’t be surprised when Sekiro rejects much of what you’ve learned in Soulsborne games, it may take a while to adjust, but a time comes where you have the revelation regarding how you should be approaching Sekiro. Then it’s like slipping into a silky and somewhat comfortable gown, albeit one that has rose thorns randomly taped to the inside.
Sekiro himself is an agile protagonist, so also fresh for a From game is a newfound verticality to the game world. You can jump, climb, and using your Prosthetic Shinobi arm (you lose your real arm early on), grapple up and across distances. This agility plays directly into the combat itself. You can and will have to be measured and methodical in sparring at times, but there’s a need for quick reactive maneuvers for most fights, with dodging, jumping, and parrying all playing a huge part in how long you’ll hold out, and emerge victorious when you hit that final, decisive deathblow by driving your sword through their flesh.

Being defensive is part of your skillset, but it’s far more important to keep engaged in a battle so you don’t let the enemy regain their posture by sitting back and being too cautious. Basically, defensive play in Sekiro often means getting up close and personal when your Soulsborne-trained mind is screaming at you to keep your distance.
You get through even the smallest battles by the skin of your teeth, death almost always just one wrong move away. Boss fights and mini-boss fights especially play out like a remarkably perfect blend of sports game and rhythm game. The prompts for enemy attacks are friendlier on the eye than most From Software titles, but Sekiro still requires you to remember the patterns and adopt a plan for victory through the magical learning experience that is repeated failure. As you advance deeper into the game and face new obstacles whilst wielding new instruments of death, the silky violent energy of it all remains as fresh and exhilarating as it did in the first hour.
There’s a gratifying sensation gained from soaking up attacks with well-timed parries and dodges, damaging your opponent’s posture until the point they’re opened up for a killer deathblow. Same goes for driving an opponent into a corner after swiftly nullifying their attacks, and also for utilizing the various abilities your prosthetic arm can offer you.

The prosthetic arm is not just for swinging about on you see. It can be fitted with special tools that hold distinct advantages against certain enemy types. You start with a shuriken-throwing arm, which is useful against archers early on, and then by exploring the world, you can discover more variants. Learning from your failures often means learning which arm tools to pack for the occasion.
Mercifully, Sekiro offers some ‘easier’ ways to deal with problems. Stealth can be employed a fair bit, which allows you to circle round tougher enemies and give you a free, unchallenged deathblow, but such opportunities are not always present. You’re only sometimes locked in an enclosed ground fight with bosses in Sekiro, so it’s a relief to be able to pull back from a tough fight and revisit your strategy when things aren’t going so well. In fact, you can in some cases, hide for long enough that enemies forget you, allowing you to effectively have a do-over. Boss health does reset if you wait after taking off the first health bar by sneaky means, so you can’t rely on just creeping back and forth in those cases so much.
There’s no denying Sekiro is tough, but it is at least mostly dependent on your abilities, so it is a fair sort of toughness. There are boss fights and gauntlets that will likely leave you screaming at the screen in frustration, but it’s almost never the fault of the game. The exception here is when the camera gets caught in tight corners or you’re dealing with a fast enemy. Thankfully this is an infrequent issue, but little is more agonizing than doing well in a fight, only to have a camera issue take you out of your stride.
Those boss fights, big and small, are pretty much always litmus tests of your current comfort level with the game and its systems. They offer up a collection of weird, wonderful, and downright disturbing encounters (a battle against a certain boss in a mountainside cave comes to mind). Many overwhelm with their raw speed and power when you first meet them, but it just makes their eventual downfall all the sweeter. Some of the more sword-based fights are exhilarating and intense to the point that sweat pours and the heart rate rises. Near the game’s end, you’ll be chaining parries and strikes at an alarming rate, barely surviving multiple rounds of a fight against single opponents.
There are so many exceptional boss fights in Sekiro. It’s a testament to the game’s design and mechanics that duels with human characters can be just as remarkable as those against the more beastly and supernatural. They don’t even follow the same system of whittling down a health bar every time, and in one boss fight, in particular, it’s all about using stealth to avoid instant death before eventually landing that satisfying deathblow. Its roaring anguish as it thrashes about is mesmerizing. It’s truly the first time the game throws something really different at you, and it’s always welcome when such oddities occur from that point on.
There’s some boss repetition, but From Software does try to provide a neat twist for the second encounters where possible. Unfortunately, some are just unwelcome returning guests, plopped into a new kind of area without much changed in their patterns When a very early mini-boss showed up again late in the day, I groaned because it had been the most unpleasant part of my early time in the game, and this time, it just simply wasn’t fun.

A final, rather small, complaint is in the early hours, having mini-bosses surrounded by regular enemies can truly test your patience. There’s little hope of taking on all of them, and one wrong move means you can end up having to do exactly that, which typically means you end up having to repeat that section, carefully culling their numbers before having a swipe at the mini-boss. It can be a tad disheartening, especially when learning how exactly Sekiro plays. It wasn’t enough to put me off, but I can see how it might do for others.
It’s really a miniscule set of complaints in the grand scheme of things. I’d personally been burnt out by the Souls formula after enduring Dark Souls III‘s aggravating final hours, so I came to Sekiro unsure if I’d enjoy it. To my surprise it was intoxicating. By giving the player more mechanical flexibility and stripping back the RPG side, this sleeker beast is at home in From’s modern library of titles, but is the most strikingly different of the lot.
After over 70 hours I still want more of Sekiro, and happily, there is more to be done in this world after the natural end. Once the systems clicked, I was dragged deep into the game, and it filled my thoughts every time I was away from it.
Sekiro is a beautiful, brutal ballet of butchery. It enthralls not only with its magnificent game world, but with a combat system that continually thrills as your understanding and mastery of it grows.

Sekiro Shadows Die Twice review code on PS4 provided by the publisher.
Sekiro Shadows Die Twice is out now on PS4, Xbox One, and PC.
Movies
‘Tha Rae: The Exorcist’ Review: Gory Thai Possession Horror Faithfully Adheres to the Tropes [NYAFF 2026]
Possession films are an exceedingly common subgenre in horror to the point that far too many of them feel far too familiar. This is a generalization, obviously, but it too often seems that someone is possessed, a representative from the area’s dominant religion is called in, and a fierce spiritual battle comes to a dramatic conclusion. The idea that the demon in question always happens to be of the exorcist’s faith and denomination is simply chalked up to plot necessity.
Tha Rae: The Exorcist adds an intriguing wrinkle into that trope by introducing a demonic entity that rebuffs both a Catholic priest and a local Yao shaman. It’s only when the two join forces that they’re able to put up a fight against the evil being.
The film opens with a Catholic exorcist out of options. A possessed child writhes before him, pustules and other signs of devilish control wracking the little girl’s body with snarls and contortions. Unable to beat the demon, and unwilling to let it grow stronger and move to another host, the priest convinces the child’s mother that death is the only choice left – so they plunge a knife into the girl’s heart.
Forty years later, it’s that same priest, Ming (Thaneth Warakulnukroh), who’s become possessed to the point of attacking and trying to eat other villagers. His daughter Malee (Nichaphat Chatchaipholra) arrives to check in on her father, but she too soon falls prey to a possessive entity with a taste for flesh. Two exorcists with wildly differing faiths and styles are called in – Sopha (Phiravich Attachitsataporn) is a self-described Yao witch doctor and TikTok exorcist who uses props, dance, theatricality, and ancestral spirits to combat the forces of evil, while Father Paolo (Jirayu Tangsrisuk) is entrenched in the traditions and rituals of the Catholic Church.

Photo: © 2025 SAHAMONGKOLFILM INTERNATIONAL COMPANY LIMITED ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. North American Premiere
There’s both tragedy and betrayal at play in the narrative of Tha Rae: The Exorcist, but director/co-writer Taweewat Wantha puts the thematic focus on the collaboration and understanding required to go toe to toe with a deviously malevolent force. It’s an interesting spin on the expected formula, and while the rest of the film stumbles in its supporting players and follows more traditional beats – albeit with some fun, gooey gore – that core element is enough to make it stand apart from the crowd.
Wantha broke onto the film scene with 2004’s memorably titled Sars Wars: Bangkok Zombie Crisis and continued that trend with oddball genre comedies like The Sperm and Kindergarten War, but he found major success with the one-two horror punch of Death Whisperer and Death Whisperer 2. His latest is more in line with those hits as jump scares and local mythologies play into his creepy tale of possession and generational punishment.
Tha Rae: The Exorcist arguably has more personality and humor, and both are due in large part to the character of Sopha and the playful but sincere performance that brings it to life. Where Tangsrisuk is saddled with the more straightlaced priest, Attachitsataporn’s witch doctor enjoys his local celebrity and has fun while aiding his community. Sopha’s social media followers expect a show, and he delivers, but there’s an engaging dynamic at play within him.

Photo: © 2025 SAHAMONGKOLFILM INTERNATIONAL COMPANY LIMITED ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. North American Premiere
Sopha’s grandmother was the original witch doctor, and he was just her apprentice. When she passed – and subsequently became the primary ancestral spirit that he calls upon during his rituals – Sopha took up the mantle. For one reason or another, continuing her legacy requires him to carry on with his more feminine foot forward. Makeup, costumes, and a feminine lilt to the way he walks and talks are all part of the show. He apologizes to Paulo for it, but there’s no shame in his words or tone as he embraces the gifts he holds and the power he wields.
There’s no disdain between the two even as they seem initially unimpressed by each other’s efforts. Eventually, though, after each has struck out in dramatic and painful fashion, they realize a combined approach to fighting this particular demon is the only way forward. It’s here where the film shines brightest with the idea that beliefs can intermingle and co-exist without the need for disdain or dismissal.
The two of them are the heart of Tha Rae: The Exorcist, but the meat and potatoes of the genre come in the form of creepy antics and a bit of the ol’ gut munching. Intestines are nibbled, a feral man bursts through floorboards to terrorize young girls, and the possessed have a generally unsettling look about them. Wantha too often neuters his atmosphere and mood, though, by jumping quickly to the gore. It cuts into the horror of it all, leaving the film to work in fits and bursts rather than as a cohesive, propulsive whole.
Shortcomings in both the script and direction prevent the film from coming close to denser, more memorable, and atmospheric possession horrors like It Comes or The Wailing, but its main theme and dual lead characters still offer up an intriguing combination.
Genre tropes exist for a reason, but Tha Rae: The Exorcist is a good reminder that they also exist to be twisted, teased, and, when necessary, torn to shreds.
Tha Rae: The Exorcist made its North American premiere at the 25th New York Asian Film Festival.

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