Un ladrón romántico

Where do I even begin? Buckle up, dear reader, because Love of Art is a cinematic train wreck I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy.

The "thrilling" plot was as predictable as sun rising from the east. The movie was full of clichés, with zero character development, zero attention to pacing the story and zero focus on important moments. The "chemistry" between the lead actors was about as sizzling as a wet firecracker. Their forced interactions were painful to watch, and dialogue so clichéd it could have been written by a fortune cookie machine.

Then there's the direction. Imagine a middle school play directed by an overenthusiastic student council president. That's the vibe I got. The action sequences were so poorly choreographed I could've planned a better fight scene with a sock puppet show.

Honestly, the only thrilling aspect of this movie was the sheer audacity of it existing. Save yourself the wasted brain cells and avoid this cinematic catastrophe. You're welcome.

In all seriousness, it amazes me how Netflix agreed to put their name behind such nonsense. But then the quality of Netflix originals isn't the same as it used to be.