Marcel Winatschek

The Red One, Third Row, Back Left

Someone assembled every Power Ranger that has ever existed and put them all in a fight at once, and the result lands somewhere between spectacle and visual psychosis. By the time you’re three or four generations deep in colored spandex, the screen is so dense with Rangers that individual agency becomes meaningless—which is basically the franchise’s entire creative philosophy made literal.

I was the Red one, obviously. Third row, back left. You can probably find me if you look hard enough.