Ryan Gosling doesn’t mince a single word; Nicolas Winding Refn doesn’t waste a single frame and Cliff Martinez doesn’t miss a single beat. The hyper-violent ecstasy is not fetishized but its kinetic ferocity is powerful enough to light your scalp on fire. The feverish neonscape acts as a throwback to the 80s escapism concocted by the intoxicating mixture of pop-art sensibilities with B-movie thrills, led by one of the most jaw-droppingly gorgeous men in Hollywood. A contemporary synthwave tragedy on the inevitable failure of one's effort in trying to become a hero to protect the people he loves but ends up losing everything and everyone in doing so. Methodical, stoic, succinctly poetic and dare I say, perfect in every way?