Zillion (2022)

Zillion is the kind of feverish, neon-lit true-life rise-and-fall saga that grabs you by the collar and drags you onto the dance floor, powered by Robin Pront’s muscular direction and a thumping late-’90s pulse. Jonas Vermeulen makes Frank Verstraeten both magnetic and alarming—a brilliant striver whose hunger for status turns every triumph into a dare—while the film luxuriates in the spectacle of ambition dressed up as nightlife excess. It’s slick, propulsive, and wickedly entertaining, with Antwerp’s club scene rendered like a futuristic carnival where money, ego, and temptation all share the same strobe light. Fair warning: the content is as explicit and intense as the world it depicts, so it’s not for the squeamish—but if you can handle the hard edges, it’s a wild, gripping trip with real bite.

Zillion is clearly aiming to be a loud, sweaty rise-and-fall crime drama about ego, excess, and the price of turning nightlife into a personal empire, and it commits to that vision with real energy. The problem is it often mistakes volume for depth: the character work can feel thin, the storytelling leans on shock and spectacle, and the runtime can start to feel like you’re trapped in the club when you’d rather be outside getting the point. If you’re not comfortable with extremely explicit sex and nudity, heavy drug use, and brutal violence, this isn’t a “maybe” watch—it’s a hard pass. Still, if you want a grimy, neon-soaked portrait of late-90s decadence with strong atmosphere and a committed lead performance, it delivers that much, just don’t expect subtlety or emotional warmth.