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I had forgotten how slow a game can be—and still feel intense. Metroid Prime 4: Beyond isn’t interested in pleasing algorithms or keeping you constantly stimulated. It wants your time, your patience, and your attention. If you give it that, it provides something rare in 2025: a game that trusts silence, structure, and weight.
Lorde delivered her first Danish headline show with an ultra-sharp, choreographed and emotional concert universe. A rare pop night.
There are pop acts that simply perform concerts – and then there’s Kalaset, a band that treats the stage as a meeting point between emotion and precision. At Falkonersalen on November 20th, the room felt unusually unified: teenagers with damp eyes, thirtysomethings mouthing every line, and couples in their forties who looked like they’d taken a brief detour from Smukfest. What unfolded was not just an extra tour date, but a carefully crafted reminder of why Kalaset have become one of the most quietly important new names in Danish pop.
I had really hoped that Spike Lee and Denzel Washington's first collaboration since Inside Man would be a comeback. But Highest 2 Lowest feels like a prestige project with amnesia -- a film that will be community commentary, thriller and music video all at once. And loses himself in the attempt.
Watching Now You See Me 3 in 2025 feels like opening a time capsule nobody asked for—and still grinning like an idiot when the cast spills out of it. It’s not the comeback the world was waiting for, but a gentle tap on the shoulder reminding you why this chaotic little franchise once became a cult favorite.
Ingen CGI, ingen glamour – bare skov, savanne og to mænd, der finder glæde i jagt, mad og hverdagens absurditeter. Nak & Æd har underholdt, provokeret og inspireret i 16 sæsoner. Programmet minder os om, at nogle oplevelser bedst nydes med ro, respekt og et skævt smil.
I thought I was done with revenge games. Finished with samurai tales and men in slow motion shouting to the heavens as the blood spurts in aesthetic arcs. But Ghost of Yōtei feels different. It smells of steel and rain, feels like a Zen poem disguised as carnage and manages, somehow, to make revenge beautiful. It's rare, a game makes me slow down and just look. Yet here I sit, in the middle of a Japanese mountain pass, with controller in hand and the sense that it's not just enemies I'm fighting, but myself.
Todd Rundgren guested Amager Bio on Tuesday night with a show that moved between grand guitar solos, theatrical gestures and fan arrangements so outlandish you had to surrender. A concert that reminded us that versatility doesn't have to mean unfocus -- when performed by someone who has lived the entire history of music at once.
It felt less like a concert and more like a ritual — not a farewell, but an electronic ceremony where three men who once were the future tried, one last time, to catch up with it.
Deathloop takes place like a murderous Groundhog Day, where protagonist Colt balances memory loss and the curse of being the only one who remembers what's going on. An existential paradox disguised as an action game.
I've seen many bands in the Royal Arena, but rarely one that could at the same time seem so well-oiled and so improvised. OneRepublic has billions of streams on its conscience, but still acts like a bunch of old classmates who just needed to get together and play a bit. It is both their strength and their weakness.
I've always identified myself as a gamer. Not the kind of gamer who yells in headsets or collects trophies -- but the existential kind who plays to survive everyday life. From my childish longing for a Stone of Jordan in Diablo II to my over a thousand hours in Call of Duty during lockdown, gaming has always been my free space. But when I became a father, gaming became something new. It became therapy. A sanctuary where I could sit with my son on my lap, controller in hand and feel that we were actually in sync for the first time that week. And then came Astro Bot.
I had actually told myself that I was done with games that try to kill me for fun. But then came Silksong. And suddenly I was sitting there again -- with sweaty palms, coffee on the table and a sense that the world outside could be waiting. It is a game that does not ask for your time, but requires your patience. And when you finally hit the beat, it's like remembering why you even started playing.
I don't know what's most absurd: that I've seen a K-pop anime musical twice in one week -- or that I loved it. KPop Demon Hunters is possibly the best movie I've seen in 2025, and it feels like a concession I should write under a pseudonym. I went into it with the same expectation that one has when a friend insists that you “just have to watch a YouTube video.” And I went back out with tears in my eyes and the tinnitus of trap-beats.
I would have written off the entire Alien franchise a long time ago. It's hard not to lose faith when something you love is being tampered with again and again, like an old wound that never calms. But Alien: Earth does something I didn't think possible: it makes me believe in the dark again.
I had never heard of Nordic Race before we signed up. On paper, it looked like a crossfitter's wettest dream and a family father's nightmare. I pictured pumped-up men in bare upper bodies crawling over burning cars while the crowd threw protein bars at them. Instead, it became a day of surprises — and the constant fear of having the “bracelet of shame” cut off the wrist.
Either you're there to truant. Or you're there to find work. I don't know what I was doing at TechBBQ myself, but I walked out of there with a pair of free stockings and an existential nausea I still haven't gotten over.
I remember back in the day when it was evident when bands were known on Myspace. They had a special energy that followed them onto the stage. On Wednesday night in Little Vega, I learned what happens when one has become known through YouTube.
Path of Exile 2 is back with beta 0.3.0 -- and it feels like Christmas Eve for a Casual Gamer Dad. We who grew up with gaming but now juggle diapers, coffee and baby screams are finally getting a game where the pause button is as important as the loot. The game is massive, endless -- and perfect for dads who are gaming on borrowed time.
Usually we only run around in mud if it's at a festival. But this time we are going to OCR — Obstacle Course Racing at Reffen. And no, our OCD helps us nothing here.
I had actually just ticked Unrest in the program because I remembered the video where he and Suspekt “freestyled” over their hit “Thinking of Others”. The idea was to stop by, hear a few tracks and then move on. But the sun was bright, the energy impossible to ignore — and suddenly there I was, swaying and completely engulfed.
First of all: great respect to Wonderfestiwall for international booking of that calibre. Anastasia on the poster is both big and nostalgic -- in fact, she might as well have been the headliner of Tivoli's lineup for Friday Rock. She was present, energetic and the exact opposite of a drawn-out show. With eight musicians on stage, nothing was spared.
We always start at the same place when we go to Bornholm: at Torvehallerne. Coffee, provisions and a firm editorial rule that you must never eat food on the ferry -- we don't need to explain why, but let's just say a few buffets have ruined several good excursions. From there it goes like clockwork: through the Swedish countryside to Ystad, on the ferry, and then it almost feels easier than finding a buffet at Fisketorvet.
It began with mud up to the ankles and pants that sticky like a bad decision. After the first 25 cheek kisses with people you might once have known from a previous life in a dark nightclub, I barely managed to take first sips of natural wine before the whole square began to quiver with anticipation. You have to give the audience at the festival ten stars for being open to experiencing something new -- because let's be honest, 99 percent were there to see Justice at 10:40 p.m. And as they went on, it was clear: This wasn't just another concert. It was a rave fair, disguised as a festival.
Eric Bana returns as a martyr ISB agent with liver problems and emotional baggage wrapped in down jacket and whiskey breath. Untamed looks like an Instagram filter on a family drama: visually overwhelming, but internally everyone is disintegrating. A quiet, slow crime that doesn't shout loudly — but lingers.
