Surviving a shaky decade that produced a couple decent albums and few identity crises, Korn bring it back to basics on their 12th full-length, The Serenity of Suffering. It's both a reminder that Korn are the masters of this particular universe and also fiercely dedicated to its fans. Inasmuch as the Korn faithful are capable of fuzzy feelings, Serenity delivers goose bumps for those who have stuck with the band since the '90s. Diehards will notice that Jonathan Davis and the gang have brought things back to the Issues/Untouchables era – especially on "Take Me" and "Everything Falls Apart" – when Korn perfected the combination of nu-metal brutality, desperate vulnerability, and spook show creepiness (in fact, the Issues doll – now wrapped in stitched-up skin with exposed ribs – makes a prominent appearance on Serenity's album art). Without pandering to career-peak nostalgia, Korn deftly execute all the hallmarks that have come to define their sound.
The focal point of the film is Nadja, a young aspiring photographer – about her blossoming career and love life, inextricably affecting each other.
An ex-convict goes to stay with his sister and becomes embroiled in a menage a trois involving her best friend.
A boy returns home from the institution where he grew up, but finds he is not welcome there. He fights to win the love of his family but ends up murdering them.
Hungarian director Kornel Mundruczo (Johanna) helmed this bucolic incest-themed drama. The picture reflects on man's need to re-bond with his natural habitat, and meditates on the unseemly consequences of fraternal love that drifts into unacceptable territory. Felix Lajko stars as the unnamed protagonist, who hearkens back to his family's agrarian home after years away. Unkempt, unshaven and noticeably laconic, he makes contact with his sister (Orsi Toth of Johanna), his mother (Lili Monori) and his mother's recent husband, a brutish sociopath (Sandor Gaspar) - who uniformly toil away in a decrepit local pub.