The Wall (2017)
77 minutes of pure tension that feels like someone strapped you to a chair in the Iraqi desert and whispered “don’t move.”Two American soldiers (Aaron Taylor-Johnson and John Cena) on a routine pipeline sweep. One hidden Iraqi sniper. One crumbling wall. That’s it. No score, just wind, radio static, and a voice on the other end that knows exactly how to crawl inside your skull. Laith Nakli’s unseen “Juba” is one of the creepiest villains ever, because he’s calm, poetic, and always three steps ahead.
Doug Liman turns a tiny patch of sand into a pressure cooker: every breath, every twitch, every lie you tell yourself to stay sane gets weaponized. Taylor-Johnson’s slow unraveling is brutal to watch, blood pooling, hope draining, mind cracking while Cena’s body lies just out of reach. The final 10 minutes twist the knife so hard you’ll forget to breathe.
It’s not pro-war or anti-war; it’s just war: ugly, pointless, and smarter than the people fighting it.
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