Reviewer’s note: The following is an atypically longer and slightly more technical review of “Rebel Moon – Chapter Two: Curse of Forgiveness,” and may contain possible spoilers.

In “Romeo and Juliet”—arguably among the most enduring tragedies written by William Shakespeare—a line dares to ask, “What’s in a name?,” which could loosely mean that labels don’t define you. While that may be true for most things in life, we might have to make an exception for “Rebel Moon – Chapter Two: Curse of Forgiveness,” director Zack Snyder’s newest installment in the “Rebel Moon” franchise, and the director’s cut of “Part Two: The Scargiver,” released earlier this year.

Like with the initially released cut of the film, the plot remains more-or-less the same—Veldt’s farmers prepare for the return of the Motherworld’s dreadnought with the help of Kora (Sofia Boutella) and her team of warriors. However, unlike “The Scargiver,” the director’s cut brings in big and small changes, whether in narrative progression, added context, or the title itself. “Rebel Moon – Chapter Two: Curse of Forgiveness” swaps the vague reference to its protagonist in the shorter PG13 version with a heavier, more pointed reference to the emotional scars multiple frontline characters are wrought down by.

Whether with Aris (Sky Yang), whose father forgives him before he’s forced to commit patricide in front of the rest of his family in the opening scene of “Chalice of Blood,” or Kora, who is also forgiven by Issa before she’s manipulated and pressured to gun her down, the burden of forgiveness weighs very heavily on them. Others haven’t been able to forgive themselves, looking for freedom from their own traumatic shackles. Titus (Djimon Hounsou) blames himself for the Motherworld’s soldiers killing his entire army and Tarak (Staz Nair) for running away from his kingdom’s failing war against them.

An essential part of why the film hits twice as hard in the feels as “Chapter One” is the kind of insight we’re given into everyone’s war with their own inner demons, even as they prepare for a seemingly impossible external war against a monolithic fascist army. The biggest strength of “Curse of Forgiveness” here is that the film—for its mostly action-packed narrative—is a phenomenal narrative payoff to many setups. In the final act, Aris’ emotionally volatile attempt to protect Sam from the soldiers feels like a painfully accurate trauma response to Kora’s action setpiece in the barn. Scratch behind those layers, and the subtext telegraphs to its viewers that it’s also a sort of almost animalistic catharsis, possibly to compensate for his failure to save his family. He’s not about to be pushed into a trolley problem anymore, especially not with Sam.

Is “Curse of Forgiveness” better than “Chapter One,” then? Well, yes and no—for all intents and purposes, “Chapter Two” can feel like the better film, but it works primarily because of the painstaking worldbuilding of its preceding movie. This becomes more apparent when you watch both chapters back-to-back—arguably the best way to watch “Rebel Moon,” with the first one’s end acting like an intermission. (While this holds up for the PG13 versions, too, viewers will find a stronger sense of continuity watching both directors’ cuts one after the other compared to the Netflix cuts, which weren’t just released months apart but also edited as two separate films, Hopkins’ narrated prologue et al.).

From stuntwork to the production design and visual effects, the technical craft—a lot of which I’ve written at length about in my review of “Chalice of Blood”—is solid and boasts an undeniable creative vision. Among the things in particular worth emphasizing, however, is Snyder’s cinematography, which shines here, especially in the many landscape shots and long takes throughout the final battle. The R-rating makes Nemesis’ final battle with the soldiers much more visceral, and the renewed color grading is perfect for moments where the neon cyans or orange-reds pop, allowing viewers to know exactly where the action is or what’s important in each frame. 

The films also mark the return of his Malickian influences via montages of Veldt’s villagers farming and harvesting grain. Directed with a gentleness that harkens back to the small joys in the critically acclaimed “Days of Heaven” (1978), the scenes are elevated to dazzling heights with the inclusion of Rose Betts and Junkie XL’s “The Land We Breath,” which is an emotional knockout of sorts—not unlike the kind of childlike joy, wonder, and sentimental earnestness Cameron crafted while exploring Pandora’s eastern sea through the eyes of Kiri. Running parallel to the montage of the villagers farming and harvesting grain, we also witness the King’s Gaze prepping while en route to Veldt. Film editor Dody Dorn’s craft is on full display here; while she beautifully balances the flow of both good and evil counting down to D-day, viewers are made to feel simultaneously euphoric and stressed out.

It’s pretty clear that both “Curse of Forgiveness” and “Chalice of Blood” are superior to their PG13 versions. This raises a rather thorny question: what was the point of the initially released cuts in the first place? The answer is complicated, but the key to getting there lies within my long-running love affair with Charles Dickens’s “Great Expectations” (1861). 

I first read the novel when I was 12, and it was part of our English literature syllabus—not in its author’s intended release of 500-or-so pages, but a 100+ page abridgment that was more suited to middle school. I fell madly in love with the book then, and when I grew up and read Dickens’ original text, my appreciation for its storytelling grew infinitely more. I can never return to the abridged, gentler, and shorter version. Still, I respect the editors for keeping something in the story intact so my older self could eagerly rediscover it all over again.

While the director’s cuts are undoubtedly Snyder’s definitive vision, it’s important to note that overall, the storytelling speedruns of “A Child of Fire” and “The Scargiver” are solid enough for the broader demographic they’re approaching, almost like an abridged family-friendly fairytale. I can only hope—against hope, keeping in context their critical reception—the PG13 cuts serve as a sort of primer for younger viewers who wish to grow up and return to the infinite worlds of “Rebel Moon,” only to fall for it again.

An argument can be made that the studio needn’t have released any other version—why should there be a cost to get your vision out there? This is a valid school of thought, but it gets tricky when a deal like the one Zack and Deborah Snyder made with Netflix ends up with both parties winning something. The director is guaranteed the wide release of his singular version, and the studio has a marketable cut for a wider demographic.

Could there have been a better release strategy? Maybe, but the fact that the release of Snyder’s own vision was more of an inevitability than a distant possibility has to count for something.

“Rebel Moon – Chapter Two: Curse of Forgiveness” is bone-crunching, heartwrenching, and chest-thumping madness that tears at you emotionally while its characters tear at each other limb from limb. Snyder maintains a pitch-perfect balance between human connection and the hubris that autocratic power leaves in its wake. A dazzling display of its director’s boundless ambition and singular storytelling strengths, “Curse of Forgiveness” is a masterpiece.