Tag: e

Eye for an Eye (2019)

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★★
“The little engine that couldn’t.”

Stacey Anderson (Sturman) is an agent for the CIA. When an operation in Tunis goes bad, she is blamed, and the intelligence which was supposed to have been collected – a complete list of Russian assets – goes missing. Stacey is disavowed by the organization, and dumped out, with a new identity. Five years later, she’s a saleswoman for a PR company, and her boyfriend, Ken (Haymes) has just proposed, when Stacey’s old life comes back to haunt her. An assault on her workplace shows that someone clearly believes she knows more about the list than she admitted. She is forced on the run, with Ken, while she tries to figure out whether it’s the Russians, or a rogue faction within her former employers. Fortunately, this wasn’t entirely a surprise, and Stacey is quite well-prepared. Less expected: having to take her new fiance along with her.

The script here is actually quite good, with a number of twists and turns I did not see coming, particularly at the end. However, this is one of the cases where a film has aspirations which are massively beyond what it is capable of delivering. This is clear from the get-go, when the drone strike which almost kills our heroine in Tunis, is depicted with really bad digital effects. Unfortunately, that sets the tone for what is to follow, with the production unable to deliver a convincing version of the explosions, gun-battles or blood squibs necessary to the plot. Even some of the rooms appear to have been done with green-screen work which fails to convince. The non-digital stuff is nothing to write home about either, and the makers perhaps should have gone with a stunt woman for the lead. Sturman gives it her all, bless her heart, but considering the frequent need for physicality in the role, it’s a character which really needs somebody like Amy Johnson or Zara Phythian.

The pacing also seems to lag badly in the middle. The opening set-up is, for all its flaws, put together quite effectively (though do the CIA really have formal “disavowal” speeches?”), and as mentioned, the ending delivered some sharp twists in regard to Stacey, not the least being her background. In between those though, it didn’t seem to know what to do with itself. This is the kind of movie that I really wanted to like, since it seemed a project made with some passion, rather than a by-the-numbers studio product. However, there is only so far that passion and heart can take you. The technical aspects – such as audio in some sequences which sounds like it was recorded underwater – are a very significant distraction from its entertainment value. It may have worked better if they had cut their cloth to fit their resources; sitting on the shelf next to far more polished productions, the comparisons are obvious and not to this movie’s benefit.

Dir: Stephen Lambert
Star: Alex Sturman, Clayton Haymes, David Chattam, Shirley Dalmas
a.k.a. Patriot: A Nation at War 

Exit Strategy, by Kelley Armstrong

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Literary rating: ★★★★★
Kick-butt quotient: ☆☆☆

Canadian author Kelley Armstrong is best known as a bestselling writer of urban fantasy. Her Nadia Stafford trilogy was her first foray into the mystery/crime fiction genre. Having already read the sequel novellas that conclude the series, I really want to read the original trilogy. This first volume didn’t disappoint!

After a short, grim prologue in third person, Chapter 1 introduces us to series protagonist Nadia, who’ll be our first person narrator for the bulk of the novel. (The parts from other viewpoints are in third person.) Now 32 years old (so, though the books were written from 2007-2017, the story arc of the series actually covers just three years in her life), she owns and operates a guest lodge in the northern forests of her native Canada. Raised in a family of cops, she’s always had a strong compulsion to serve justice and protect the innocent, which deepened and became more driven after the death of her much-loved cousin, who was murdered when the girls were in their teens. (Nadia still blames herself for not keeping Amy safe.) When she followed in her family footsteps by joining the force, that compulsion had to be tempered by laws and procedures protecting suspects and requiring due process, that exist for a good reason. In her early 20s, there came a triggering incident where her reaction couldn’t be tempered, and boiled over in an act of vigilantism that cost her her badge. Investing in her lodge was a way of rebuilding her life. But she’s fortunate in employing a married couple who can manage the place at times if she has to be away for awhile; because she has an un-advertised side occupation.

The lodge barely breaks even, and six years ago was on the verge of bankruptcy. A regular guest was aware of her financial troubles, and of her history. He happened to be a high-ranking member of New York City’s Tomassini Mafia family. His family aren’t philanthropists, and don’t have much in the way of ethical values –but he could respect hers, and understand something of her mindset. Occasionally, the Tomassini’s interests call for the elimination of some genuinely bad person, who really is a threat to the innocent; and at those times, they’re willing to pay top dollar to someone who can accomplish their purpose capably, without getting caught. So, he had a business proposition for her; and when she accepted it, she saved her lodge.

But she also crossed a line that put her permanently on the wrong side of the law, precluded much possibility for normal close human relationships, and set her on a dark and morally problematic path. She doesn’t relish killing in itself, even of the deserving and dangerous, and is painfully aware that a regular diet of it is troubling and unhealthy. But it does allow her, in some sense, to fulfill her inner compulsion, and it’s become an inescapable part of the person that she is, which she shoulders responsibility for. Her narrative voice looks at herself honestly and self-critically, but without apology. So if you, the reader, are going to be friends with her, you’ll have to look her in the eye and decide whether you can accept her as is. (Obviously I can, since I’m a series fan.)

Early on here, she gets a visit from her taciturn older acquaintance Jack. She’s gotten to know him some (though that’s not easy) in the last few years, since he first showed up at the lodge and let her know that he’s also in her illegal line of work. He’s been back sometimes since, and become a bit of a mentor, with professional advice that she’s found useful. Now, he’s bringing news of the Helter Skelter Killer who’s been terrorizing the U.S. (she’s heard of the case, but deliberately refused to immerse herself in the details). Over a period of nine days in October, across several states, four very diverse people have been murdered, in different localities and all by different means; the only unifying factor is a page torn out of the book Helter Skelter and left beside each of the victims. The chilling twist, though, is that law enforcement officials believe the perp is actually a professional killer, who’s gone rogue and is now dropping random bodies. This has produced an unusual spotlight of police attention on the very small world of long-term hitmen/women, resulting in a couple of arrests, much inconvenience, and a general climate that’s very bad for business.

By nature and necessity, the denizens of this circle are not a gregarious and chummy bunch; but to the extent that they do share information and opinions, their general consensus is that this wacko needs to be identified and stopped, NOW. Jack wants to know if Nadia’s willing to bring her cop skills to the table and partner with him in this hunt. She’s not too keen about coming out from behind her curtain of anonymity, even just among other assassins; and while talking to Jack sometimes at her lodge is one thing, she’s got some trust issues about going off to the States with him and working together. But …the precious lives of more potential victims that this killer might take are at stake, and Nadia is Nadia. Having gotten to know her by reading the novellas, I wouldn’t have been surprised by her answer even if I hadn’t read the cover blurb of the book. :-) So, as Sherlock Holmes might have said, the game is afoot!

As a rule, I don’t care for the idea of serial-killer fiction, and mostly avoid it (the one other exception being Agatha Christie’s The ABC Murders). I’m also not usually a particular fan of romantic triangles, despite my liking for the Twilight Saga, and we get something of that vibe here. (Having read the later books, I already knew how that would play out –and my reviews of those books would be “spoilers” for that aspect!– but reading the series in order is probably the best way to experience the character arcs and relationship developments.) Unlike in the Christie book, we do experience most of the serial killings directly, although they’re done quickly and Armstrong doesn’t wallow in the gore, and we do get in the killer’s sick and disturbed head some –thankfully, only at times and briefly, but it’s an unpleasant place to be.

Coupled with the mitigating factors, though, the author’s strong character study of Nadia herself made this a worthwhile read. She’s a fascinating, complex character (and when the chips are down, an actual heroine despite the ethical issues some of her life choices present), and not the only one of those here; very vivid, round and complicated characterizations are one of this author’s particular strengths. Even minor characters who only appear for a few pages are often illuminated clearly enough to be memorable. Not many of them are particularly likeable (although Nadia honestly is, at least to me, and that’s an assessment I think series fans in general would echo), but you do understand them –or, if you don’t, you’re intrigued enough to want to peel back more of the layers.

This is a genuine, challenging mystery that takes detection and deduction to solve, and Nadia and her unlikely fellow sleuths don’t have access to the kind of crime scene investigation and witness interviews that the FBI does. (Fortunately, though, which partially compensates, they do have more knowledge of the shadowy world of killers for hire than the authorities do.) It’s definitely a mystery of the “American” school, not its staid and cerebral British counterpart: gritty, violent and fraught with danger, and peppered with bad language, though I considered the level of the latter legitimate in terms of realism for these characters. (There’s no sex, explicit or not, but there is some reference to it; Nadia isn’t often promiscuous, but her attitudes are colored by the fact that she doesn’t expect marriage to ever be in her possible future.) The investigation snakes through a dark underside of America, where not only the serial killer but other nefarious types as well have dark secrets, and no scruples about eliminating the nosy. And while Nadia’s very protective of innocent life, even when it’s not convenient to be –despite her hit woman credentials, you could totally trust her to babysit your toddlers!– thugs who want to kill her may find her quite lethal.

Overall, this is a gripping read right from the starting gate (Armstrong leaves two dead bodies lying on the first nine pages), with a lot of action and a real page-turning quality. With the above-mentioned caveat for language issues, I’d highly recommend it to mystery/crime fiction and action “thriller” fans.

Author: Kelley Armstrong
Publisher: KLA Fricke Inc.; available through Amazon, both for Kindle and as a printed book.
A version of this review previously appeared on Goodreads.

Enola Holmes

  By

★★
“Puts the ‘no’ in Enola.”

Complete ranking of Enolas

  1. Enola Gay
  2. Enola Holmes
  3. That’s it.

I’m probably not the only one who spent much of the film humming OMD’s classic Enola Gay to themselves – released 40 years ago this month, coincidentally. And, sadly, it remains my favourite Enola, by quite some distance. This was more annoying than anything else, though I’ve never been on the Millie Bobby Brown hype-train. I didn’t think much of Stranger Things, and her performance in Godzilla: King of the Monsters, interfered with what I want to see i.e. monsters fighting. Here, I found her more irritating than engaging, though in her defense, she wasn’t helped by some poor directorial choices.

This get off on the wrong foot at the very start, Enola (Brown), Sherlock Holmes’ sixteen-year-old sister, breaking the fourth wall and addressing the audience, something she does frequently. Director Bradbeer used this technique in TV series Fleabag, but I’m not a fan: it takes me out of proceedings, reminding me I’m watching a film. What follows is less a convincing evocation of 1900 England, than contemporary America playing girl power dress-up, with “nasty women” blowing things up as they seek to defeat the evil patriarchy. One of these is Enola’s mother (Bonham-Carter), whose vanishing without warning starts things off, causing Enola to begin searching for her, based on coded clues left behind. It escapes me quite why the missing parent couldn’t simply write, “Dear Enola, Gone off to be a suffragette. Love, Mum.”

Not that it matters, because Enola rapidly abandons this quest entirely, in favour of a case involving the young, attractive and entirely personality-free aristocrat, Viscount Tewkesbury (Partridge), whose vote is crucial to get a reform bull passed, expanding the ability to vote [in reality, no such change took place until almost twenty years later – but hey, why let facts stop you from twisting history for your political points?]. On his trail is a mysterious and ill-intentioned man (Gorman), with whom Enola crosses paths. She also has to fend off attempts by her other brother, Mycroft, to have her consigned to a very Handmaid’s Tale-looking boarding school. This is intended to have Enola brainwashed into being the quiet and submissive woman society expects.

The politics on view here are cringeworthy, particularly from Mrs. Holmes, who speaks almost entirely in feminist fortune-cookies, such as “Don’t be thrown off course by other people. Especially men.” It’s one of those cases where merely leading by example isn’t enough: you have to virtue-signal your morality by announcing it, explicitly and repeatedly, which I find immensely off-putting. Hence, we get gobbets of political sermonizing, such as Sherlock (Cavill) being told, by a black, female martial-arts teacher – something I’m fairly sure wasn’t common enough  in the Victorian era to pass without comment: “You don’t know what it is to be without power. Politics doesn’t interest you… because you have no interest in changing a world that suits you so well.” You go, sister!

Speaking of which, the portrayal of the great detective is no more accurate than the other element. “Sherlock Holmes always works alone!” proclaims Inspector Lestrade. Uh, I guess the creators never heard of Dr. Watson, an intrinsic character, from the very first Conan Doyle story? You just never get any sense of keen intellect from Cavill’s performance. Guess they didn’t want to overshadow Enola and her Big Brain. Yet, under all these flaws, is a decent movie, trying to get out. The look of things is lovely, and some of the action sequences are well-handled, even if a slip of a girl like Enola hardly seems equipped to trade blows with grown men.

Maybe they could have made more use of her archery skills (above), which are set-up, then entirely forgotten. Like so much else, that gets lost in the rush to cram an “uplifting” message into the movie, rather than letting one flow organically from it.

Dir: Harry Bradbeer
Star: Millie Bobby Brown, Louis Partridge, Henry Cavill, Burn Gorman

 

Ek Hasina Thi

  By

★★★
“Hell hath no fury…”

A somewhat cheesy melodrama, this throws together elements from Western pot-boilers Double Jeopardy and If Tomorrow Comes, adds a handful of Bollywood spice, and to be honest, probably overcooks the whole thing a bit. The title translates as “There Was a Beautiful Woman”, presumably referring to the heroine of the piece, travel agent Sarika (Matondkar). Into her office one day comes hunky businessman Karan Singh Rathod (Khan), and after some reluctance, she begins a relationship with him. However, it turns out he is actually a mobster, and manipulates her into taking a fall rather than incriminating him, which nets Sarika a seven-year prison sentence. Escaping from jail, she vows to destroy her former lover, and in turn, works on framing Karan with his criminal pals, by making it look like he murdered a colleague and stole money.

The most fun part for me, was the section in the middle where it turns into a Bollywood women-in-prison movie. I’d have watched an entire movie about that, as Sarika – wholly unprepared for the experience – gets dropped into the literal hell-hole which is an Indian jail. [Seriously: I don’t want to hear any complaints about Western prison conditions ever again] This is what transitions her into being the bad-ass she needs to be, to be able to take down Karan, and is where the melodrama reached its peak, right from the get-go. Her cellmate offers Sarika a biscuit, then warns her, “There’s a woman here named Dolly. Beware of her. She’s crazy. She’s a real wretch. She has committed four murders.” Of course, the cellmate is Dolly. It’s like watching an entire season of The Yard, condensed into thirty minutes.

The strong female characters aren’t limited to the heroine. There’s also the prison matriarch, Pramila (Kazmi), who takes Sarika under her wing. And on the other side, is ACP Malti Vaidya – she is portrayed by Biswas, who played the title role in Bandit Queen. Vaidya is the no-nonsense policewoman who gets the heroine convicted (what’s a little finger violence between cops and criminals?), yet also wants to work her way up the chain and catch Karan as well. I’d not have minded seeing either of them get more screen-time, perhaps at the cost of the early scenes depicting the growth of the relationship between Sarika and Karan.

For at 137 minutes, it does meander a bit much, especially when its story should be accelerating forward. I have some questions about the final act, after the heroine escapes from jail during a fire. Firstly, whoever is in charge of security for Karan’s mob friends is in for a really poor performance review this quarter. And the eventual revenge taken, would have made more sense if we’d seen Karan suffer from musophobia, rather than Sarika. Overall, however, it’s an entertaining piece of nonsense, which even got Chris off her mobile phone for its duration. If you’re averse to the Bollywood standard dance routines, you’ll be pleased to learn they don’t show up here at all.

Dir: Sriram Raghavan
Star: Urmila Matondkar, Saif Ali Khan, Seema Biswas, Pratima Kazmi

The Empty Hands

  By

★★½
“Hands of fate”

The title is the English translation of “karate,” yet seems oddly appropriate for a film which barely clears the necessary quota of action to qualify for this site. I can’t say I felt my time was wasted, as such. Yet if you’re looking for a plethora of martial arts, you’ll be disappointed, despite the poster and a story which certainly could have gone in a much more action-oriented direction.

Mari Hirakawa (Tang) is the daughter of a Japanese karate teacher (Yasuaki): she had been taught by him while growing up, but quit the sport at age ten, after an incident at a competition, and now loathes it. When her father dies, she returns to claim the dojo as her inheritance, intending to turn it into apartments and become a landlord. Only, he bequeathed 51% of it to a former student, Chan Keung (To), who plans to keep running the place, helped by the late master’s faithful henchman, the aptly-named Mute Dog (Au). After much crossing of swords between Mari and Chan, he makes her an offer. Take up the sport again, enter a karate competition and simply survive – not even win – the opening match on her own two feet. He’ll then hand over his share to Mari, to do with it as she pleases.

It’s certainly a cliched plot, yet I’d have been fine with it, providing the end result contained a good volume of high-octane action sequences. That’s not the case: there’s really only one, the first-round contest. To the director’s credit, it’s not the point in his telling of the story. Chan’s offer, for example, doesn’t even turn up until after the half-way mark. He’s much more interested in a character study of a disaffected young woman, who is unhappy with her current situation, yet isn’t sure of what she wants from life. Mari isn’t even a very nice character, not least for her affair with a married man which ends up becoming more than slightly stalker-ish. Though Tang’s performance is good enough to keep her sympathetic, if not likeable, and I found myself rooting for her to find her direction.

The ending probably becomes semi-inevitable, after we learn that Mari’s recollection of past events is not necessarily an accurate reflection of what happened. Even there, however, the script manages to subvert expectations, and it turns out that her father was clearly considerably smarter than it seemed. There are some moments which perhaps make more sense to local viewers, such as elderly people doing keep-fit, to a jaunty Cantonese pop-song whose lyrics go – and I wrote them down, they were so bizarre – “If I do not love the motherland, the sun will explode!” On the whole, it’s not a film I would recommend to site visitors, unless they are also open to art-house drama and character studies, and the score above reflects that. On purely cinematic terms, you can certainly add a half-star, possibly a full one.

Dir: Chapman To
Star: Stephy Tang, Chapman To, Kurata Yasuaki, Stephen Au

E.M.P. 333 Days

  By

★★★
“A thoroughly Canadian apocalypse”

Really, for a reported budget of about $6,500 – and those are Canadian dollars, which currently works out to less than five grand in freedom dollars – this is quite impressive. You could argue that trying to create a convincing post-apocalyptic scenario on such a tiny budget is biting off more than you can chew. And there are certainly moments which just don’t work. But in its low-key approach, it’s probably a more accurate reflection than many of the way in which the world might end. Not with a bang, but with a whimper, and a slow grinding to a halt.

In this case, it’s an electromagnetic pulse weapon, detonated high in the atmosphere (most likely by North Korea, going off early radio broadcasts) and wiping out everything that use electronics. Which, these days, is virtually everything. When it does, young heroine Niamh (Ferreri, the director’s daughter) is staying with her grandmother, because Dad is away on a business trip. Initially, they hole up, trying to wait it out, but eventually resources dwindle and Niamh has to strike out on her own. Fortunately, Dad was a bit of a prepper and so she is better prepared than most girls her age for life in the new, primitive world, as well as encountering other survivors, both good and bad.

Undeniably, you have to allow a lot of leeway for the very limited resources. Even given the rural setting, it’s never clear to where 99% of the population has gone, or why; a throwaway line saying, “A bunch of people left a few nights ago,” is about as close as we get. The collapse of civilization into anarchy and chaos is depicted by a shot of Niamh and her grandmother, peering out the window and looking concerned, while somewhat riotous sound-effects are heard. All told, as the tagline above implies, it’s a very polite end of the world. It’s also a bit unusual, and therefore refreshing, to see a positive portrayal of survivalists. Rather than the usual wild-eyed paranoiacs, they’re depicted here as down-to-earth, and simply prepared for unfortunate events.

The technical aspects are quite impressive, especially on the visual front where it certainly doesn’t look like a microbudget production. However, the film does drag in the middle. From the point at which Niamh meets another young survivor, Will (Davidson), it seems to spin its wheels for the longest time, despite the pair stumbling across a rare car still capable of driving. It takes the injection of an external threat before the plot begins to move forward again, and Ferreri deserves credit for getting its depiction of killing right, as not something which should be done lightly by anyone.

The movie did tie up its loose ends up a little too conveniently, just when it was looking set fair to be nicely ambiguous. Though on the other hand, this offers a somewhat hopeful note on which to finish things. That might not be a bad thing after a generally downbeat experience, and if it remains the complete cinematic opposite of, say, Fury Road, that’s not entirely a bad thing.

Dir: Adriano Ferreri
Star: Rosa Ferreri, Liam Davidson, Derek A. Bell, Martin Saunders

Eye of the Colossus, by Nicole Grotepas

  By

Literary rating: ★★½
Kick-butt quotient: ☆☆½

This probably picked up half a star in the final couple of chapters, because up until the end, the plot seemed to have some huge deficiencies. While most of these were certainly addressed by the final resolution, it still left a rather questionable taste in my literary mouth [if you see what I mean!]. The heroine is Holly Drake, who has been unjustly sent to prison after killing her abusive husband. Unfortunately, he was a police officer, and some of his dubious colleagues helped ensure Holly went to jail for it. On release, her previous career as a teacher is no longer an option, and she’s largely thrown on to the charity of her sister, Meg, also a cop.

It’s Meg who gives Holly a lead to potential employment, albeit of a shady nature. But Holly has few options, and has to accept the job, which involves retrieving a necklace which has been stolen from its rightful owner, before it can be whisked away. To complete the task, she needs to put together a team with the various skills necessary, and also acquire a piece of tech called the Skelty Key, which is needed to defuse the security around their target. For someone with no background in the underworld, all of this poses a significant challenge, even discounting entirely the actual job itself. [Why she was hired at all is one of the eventually explained plot deficiencies]

This is nominally science-fiction, taking place in a six-moon system around Ixion, a gas giant. There are several different races, in addition to expat Earthlings like Holly, and the relationship between them is occasionally fractious. However, I never got any particular sense of “alienness”: you could rewrite this to be on Earth with almost no SF elements. There’s also not much in the way of an antagonist here. Early on, the “Shadow Coalition” appear to be trying to stop Holly from carrying out her mission; this aspect seems to peter out, as if the opposition got bored and drifted away. This combination perhaps turns it into more of a “crime procedural” than SF; that’s less criticism than an observation.

What is my main criticism is its sluggish pacing. You’re more than 90% of the way through before you get to the heist which is the book’s focus, and it’s a bit of a drag to reach that point. While self-contained enough overall, it’s clearly a set-up for future volumes, and I must confess, these are somewhat intriguing. There’s some stuff which happens to Holly late on, toughening up her character from the rather whiny one she has been to that point, and we also discover the harrowing circumstances leading to her incarceration. I just can’t help feeling we could have got to the same place considerably more economically, in about one-third of the page-count, and we would all have been considerably better off.

Author: Nicole Grotepas
Publisher: Amazon Digital Services, available through Amazon, both as a paperback and an e-book
Book 1 of 3 in the Holly Drake Job series.

Element 42, by Seeley James

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Literary rating: ★★★★½
Kick-butt quotient: ☆☆☆

Earlier this year, because he knew that I’d greatly liked the two previous Sabel Security novels, my Goodreads friend Seeley James gifted me with the e-book editions of all of the remaining five. This was just an act of friendly generosity, with no actual request for reviews; but I’m glad to treat them as review copies, and (as always) to review them fairly on their merits. This book’s merits earn it very high marks, which came as no surprise to me!

Unlike some series, this one really should be read in order; you need the background of the first two to fully understand the characters and premise, and the previous experiences that shape their situation and relationships. (My reviews of the previous books, also provide background for this review, and a lot of the earlier comments would also apply here.) Here, Pia and her team of veteran agents stumble onto a scheme that clearly involves unethical biological research on natives in the jungles of Borneo. What else it ultimately involves –well, that would be telling, but plumbing the full depth of what’s going on will have our gallant band of heroes/heroines (where gender is concerned, Seeley’s an equal-opportunity writer!) facing danger and death on three different continents, with LOTS of lives, and maybe the future of mankind, at stake.  It’s worth noting that, while Pia earns her three-star kick-butt quotient here, we have at least three action-capable ladies among our characters here (one of whom is much more lethal than Pia is), and another one who grows unto the role.

Like the previous book, this one interweaves two narrative strands, one in third person and one in the first-person voice of Sabel Security agent Jacob Stearne. Also like the previous one, its premise builds a fictional narrative on the real-life realities of actual geopolitical problems and a world ruled by elitist corporations and governments that are almost totally devoid of any ethic except self-centered utilitarianism, and in the grip of a hubris that’s willing and eager to play God. (No, we don’t have any concrete evidence that anybody’s planning a scheme like the one depicted here –but at the same time, it’s a pretty plausible guess that there are plenty of people in high places who at least contemplate it, or would if they calculated they could pull it off.) Of the three books I’ve read to date, this one has the most action, with an almost manic pace, and the highest body count. We also have some more revelation of what makes Pia tick psychologically, and a hint of more revelations to come about the murder of her birth parents when she was five years old. (She’s operating to a big extent in vigilante mode here, but for me that’s not necessarily a negative thing; the book will force readers to consider how they feel about that, and my personal opinion of it is that it can be morally justified at times.)

The plotting is complex, and the chapters tend to end on cliffhanger notes, only to switch back and forth between equally precarious narrative strands. Seeley knows a great deal about high-tech surveillance equipment, weaponry, etc., and makes liberal use of what he knows here; but the reader doesn’t have to share that knowledge –we can just accept that things work the way he says they do, and go with the flow. If one had unlimited time to read, this would be a quick read; it took me nearly two months to finish only because I read it irregularly here and there in electronic format. (I’d have blazed through it a lot faster in paper format, and would have read it in one sitting if I could have!) No spoilers, but the ending was particularly good.

My reaction to the read wasn’t without a few quibbles. Although I sometimes got lost in plot details and couldn’t remember a connection, etc., I think that was mostly because of the piecemeal way I had to read the book over a span of weeks, not due to deficiencies in the narration. Mostly, I could follow the action sequences (not always; they’d be clearer in movie format, and this would be a great subject for movie adaptation!). But on at least three occasions, characters with their hands tied behind their backs reverse that by, apparently, jumping backwards through their own arms. I don’t believe this is physically possible, no matter how athletic the person is; and even if it was, I think it would result in two dislocated shoulders. Seeley also tends to forget details from previous books. It was established in the first two books that persons shot with Sabel Security tranquilizer darts need to be injected with an antidote to prevent possible allergic reactions (if I correctly recall the explanation); that requirement disappears here. Jacob specifically mentioned in the previous book that fellow agent Carla was married; here he tells us specifically that he never knew anything about her marital status, and it’s made clear that she’s single.

Bad language is probably within the limits of realism, and there’s no explicit sex (though, Jacob being Jacob, we’re not terribly surprised in the opening scene when he’s rousted out of bed, and is sharing it with a recently-met woman). But the revelation, at one point, of past messed-up sexual escapades and inter-relationships among some of the characters (not Pia) is so off-putting it inspires eye rolling. (However, while I recently dropped another series because I discovered that the author wants us to believe his protagonist really has conversations with animals, I don’t believe Seeley really wants us to believe Jacob has actual conversations only he can hear with the Roman god Mercury. IMO, we should understand this simply as a hallucinogenic coping mechanism when he’s not on his meds, and the “warnings” from that source as really deriving from a sixth sense and highly-keen natural senses and instincts. I could be wrong, though….)

Regardless of quibbles, though, I really liked the book and continue to really like the series. I’m invested in it for the long haul, though It’ll be autumn before I’m able to get to the next book. But I’ll be champing at the bit!

Author: Seeley James
Publisher: Machined Media, available through Amazon, both for Kindle and as a printed book.
A version of this review previously appeared on Goodreads.

The Executioners

  By

★★½
“Home of the hits”

“I realized that there was no such thing as a boundary between good or evil, black and white, right or wrong. All I learned is that this world is divided by the executed and executioners.” The above is spoken by a character toward the end of this, and explains the significance of the title, though your mileage may vary as to how convincing it is as an explanation. Four young women go to a country house by a lake, which holds dark memories for one of them. Belle (Dallender, known here from I Spit on Your Grave 2) watched her father die of a heart attack there, after he rescued her from drowning, and has been plagued by guilt ever since. There’s also Kay (Burn), a writer who is working on a “story of home invasion, mixed with supernatural elements.” And, wouldn’t you know it? Barely has the trip started, before three men burst in and take the group hostage.

There then follows some fairly nasty brutality and sexual violence, which seems especially dubious since the director has made energetic (and, let’s be honest, not unsuccessful) efforts to sexualize the attractive women – both before, and even more questionably, after that scene. The victims continue wandering round in their underwear for no good reason, when any real person would have quickly reached for their clothes. However, the tables are turned, with the three attackers turning out to be a bit crap at the whole home-invasion thing. With them tied up, it’s time for the quartet to mete out their own brand of justice – something which Belle, especially, is very keen to do.

This is where things get at least somewhat interesting, and rather meta. For it turns out the home invaders were not acting on their own initiative. They had been hired to attack the house, by person or persons then unknown, and were live-streaming their actions through bodycams back to their employer. Who is lurking in the woods nearby, and may or may not be ready to intervene on behalf of their employees. The scripting in this section is mediocre: one woman’s break for help and fate is so rapidly glossed-over as to be inconsequential, and one of the attacker becomes an ally with little more than “I’m gonna trust you with a gun. Remember, we’re not the enemy.”

As the poster suggests, Serafini is going for the grindhouse aesthetic. I’m just not sure how well he nails this. The nasty and repellent elements, he seems to have a good handle on, and Dallender impresses in her role. Yet the films in that field which have stood the test of time offer more than that, and it’s there where the film seems to fall short most obviously, with this likely making little or no lasting impression. The eventual explanation raises more questions than it answers, and doesn’t appear to make a great deal of logical sense. If you like your meat raw and bloody, this one may be more to your taste than it was to mine. If only they’d named all the characters after Disney princesses.

Dir: Giorgio Serafini
Star: Natalie Burn, Jemma Dallender, Rachel Rosenstein, Anna Shields

Exile

  By

★★
“Planet rock”

Space freighter pilot Jason (Sheridan) has his craft hijacked, and is forced to crash-land it on a deserted planet. Blinded and alone, things look grim for him, until he’s fortunate enough to be found by android Reyna (Guzzetta). She’s the product of a maverick genius, who took refuge on the planet, but recently died: she needs Jason, as the systems which power her require a human presence in order to operate. And he needs her – in particular, her advanced combat skills – in order to protect him, both from the planet’s hostile fauna, and the hijacker’s pals, who have followed him down to its surface. Yet, is Reyna entirely trustworthy?

This is especially shaky at the beginning. Maybe the CGI might have passed muster when this came out in 2008 (key word: “might”). The decade which has passed has not been kind to them, and you’d expect better from a remaindered PS4 game nowadays. Initially, the story is no great shakes either, especially with Jason’s blindness apparently little more than a slight inconvenience. He navigates his way round the unfamiliar landscape with the alacrity of a well-equipped bat, and seems to have little trouble breathing an atmosphere every other human requires a respirator to handle. Apparently, “you get used to it”, according to a throwaway line late in proceedings.

Then there’s the monster roaming the planet. It’s a good thing its only prey is blind, because… let’s just say, speed is not a strength. By “roaming”, I likely mean “shuffling slowly around.” On one level, it’s more than a bit crap, a bargain-basement knock of the Alien. On the other… it’s kinda endearing, simply by nature of being so inept: something Conway seems to realize, showing it only in quick cuts, close-ups and partial angles. We never get a decent medium-shot, probably for good reason. Throw in the proliferation of other people sharing the director’s surname in the credits, and it’s clear this is a professional production in little more than intent.

Yet, it has some interesting ideas, even if the interplanetary warfare described in the opening voice-over is notable by its almost complete absence. Guzzetta is actually decent in her role, with a physical presence which reminded me of Pollyanna McIntosh. It’s a role where her artificial, stilted and slightly forced performance (whether deliberate or not!) works for the character. The second half feels like a considerable improvement, when a rescue mission lands in search of Jason, and Reyna realizes her power source might be about to be taken away from her. If Conway had not over-reached himself and his available resources so aggressively in the first half, this could potentially (again, key word: “potentially”) have been a small cult classic.

Instead, while I’d like to applaud ambition in any film-maker, this feels like someone biting off an entire buffet more than they are capable of chewing. The results turn out to be similarly indigestible for the viewer.

Dir: Mike Conway
Star: Brian Sheridan, Heather Lei Guzzetta, Tiffany Sinclair, Jake Bass