Nightmares in Motion: Emmanouil Tselidis and The Lethal Force

Two years after The Lethal Force first lunged onto the indie scene, its mastermind, Deathor, returns to the arena—not so much with a sequel as with a cinematic séance. The Lethal Force: THE DREAM II is less a continuation and more a ritual, summoning something dark from the depths of its own mythos. But the question hangs in the smoky air: when you play god to your own creation, do you control the dream or does the dream control you?

This is a film dripping with devotion. You can feel the fingerprints of passion in every frame: an ambitious scope that vaults across a dizzying range of locations, a cast large enough to populate a small island, and action scenes that throb with DIY adrenaline. The production design alone often feels like a second lead actor—gritty, lived-in, and defiantly bold.

And yet, ambition is a tricky beast. The cinematography staggers between moments of flair and stretches where the lens seems uncertain, switching between phone and camera like a driver weaving between lanes. The result is a visual rhythm that sometimes dances, sometimes trips. It’s a bold gamble to film in English when the actors’ tongues long for the lyrical cadence of Greek; instead of cult charm, this choice sometimes flirts with unintended parody.

One can’t help but imagine how the film might sing in its native language—Greek’s musicality would wrap around the story like ivy on ancient stone, adding the unique texture the project craves. Paired with a tighter budgetary focus and a steadier hand behind the camera, THE DREAM II could evolve from a curio into a cult legend.

Still, there’s a certain magic here, messy, flawed, but undeniably alive. Watching The Lethal Force: THE DREAM II feels like paging through the fevered sketchbook of a dreamer who refuses to wake up. And perhaps that’s its greatest victory: in an era of polished, soulless spectacle, here is a film that bleeds.