Night Train

★★
“Not trucking good.”

Danielle Ryan’s quest for a movie worthy of her talents meets another swing and a miss. I guess you have to give credit to this one: it is at least trying to go in a different direction, making the Mexican cartel the good guys. For as well as their… less salubrious activities, they’re shipping pharmaceuticals into the US, and undercutting Big Pharma, by selling them to the needy at lower prices. #SoBrave Needless to say, this can’t stand, so word comes down to FBI supervisor Connoll (Sergei), who puts agent Jaylynne Jackson (Baird) on the case. Except, you wonder how much he wants to help, since she is an alcoholic burnout, with PTSD resulting from her stint in the military.

The target is Holly McCord (Ryan), who might also be a vet – to be honest, my attention kinda lapsed. She is trucking the imported drugs to the distribution hub in Las Vegas, using her souped-up vehicle. But only because it gives her access to the medicine her sick son needs. Her contact, Renzo Romeo (Haapaniemi) was initially unconvinced, but McCord’s ability to get the job done showed him she isn’t just a girl – a point the film practically belabours. That, however, can’t stop Holly from getting ensnared deeper in the crime web, as Jaylynne closes in, both ends threatening to destroy everything Holly cares about. Which is basically her son, so she decides to make a break for the border with him and Renzo.

I’ll take misleading posters for $400, please, Alex. I am fairly sure – despite the attention thing mentioned above – that Holly never picks up a gun at any point, even during the final face-off with Jaylynne. Indeed, in terms of action, this is considerably more subdued than you’d expect. I was thinking there would at least be some hot car chases here, and the movie largely fails to deliver on that front either. It’s more of a thriller than an action film, and doesn’t work particularly well as that. If it had kept to the battle between noble criminal and ignoble cop, it might have worked, since both characters are interesting – even if Jaylynne would, in reality, have been tossed out of the FBI.

However, the film throws too much extraneous stuff in there which is either not needed, or plain bad writing. I mean, if you have to use a sick child as maternal motivation, that’s simply lazy. We also get Holly’s relationship with her father, Jaylynne’s PTSD, the creepy attraction the Las Vegas head has for Holly, etc. etc. When the two women finally meet in the desert, the battle-hardened FBI agent ends up falling to her knees and weeping, then letting Holly go, after a stern lecture from the smuggler. No, really. The words,”Who writes this crap?” may have passed my lips at that point. Some day, Ryan (and, indeed, Baird) will hopefully find a script that matches her abilities. Today is not that day.

Dir: Shane Stanley
Star: Danielle C. Ryan, Diora Baird, Paul Haapaniemi, Ivan Sergei

Nemesis

★★½
“Two’s company, Tree’s a crowd.”

I was going to go with “Tree’s company” as the tagline, before I realized I’ve actually used that in three separate, forest-set movies. So I decided to adjust it slightly, and what’s above is indeed very apt. There is a cast of three (3) and the entire thing unfolds in the woods. There isn’t a single set or interior shot in the whole film. Indeed, if you’d asked me, I’d have said this had all the hallmarks of a COVID-era project, designed to be shot with a small cast and in a nicely sanitary, outdoor location. Not so, even though Tubi dates it as 2020. There was a screening in April 2019, well before anyone had heard of Wuhan, and the IMDb gives it a year of 2017.

McKenzie Montero (Villegas) is a bounty hunter transporting a fugitive she has captured back to civilization. Her car is involved in an crash, and her captive, murderer Noah Burnham (Wilder), escapes into the expanse of woods by the road. McKenzie goes in pursuit, but ends up having to babysit the driver of the other car, Abigail Stroud (Slattery), who professes to be concerned about McKenzie’s health after the accident. Except, almost none of the preceding statements are 100% accurate. In particular, we learn that Abigail is actually an accomplice of Noah – albeit somewhat reluctantly – and her motives obviously do not line up with those of her new friend. McKenzie, meanwhile, is desperate to get the reward Noah represents, and will not let anyone get in the way.

Given the constraints under which its operating, this is not a terrible time-passer. However, I can’t say that the various twists ever came as quite the shock the writer seemed to think. It felt obvious from the start that Abigail was not the innocent driver she claimed to be, and the way the relationship between her and McKenzie went from zero to BFFs, confiding secrets, seemed a tad forced. On the other hand, I’d like to have learned more about some elements, such as Noah’s claim to be an officially sanctioned serial killer, working for the US government. As is, this seems inserted as a rather crude way to leave the viewer uncertain of who the “good guy/gal” is, given McKenzie is not exactly law-enforcement herself.

As such, you will soon realize there are no real heroes here, with each of the trio clearly intent on manipulating the other two, to their respective ends. For instance, Abigail and Noah need McKenzie, because she’s the only one who can get them out of the woods. Watching this mental chess game unfold, in between bouts of adequately-staged physical confrontation, is when the movie is at its most entertaining. I was never sure until the very end who was going to be able to walk away by the time everything was decided. The problem was, though, that when the final credits rolled, I realized that I did not particularly care about anybody’s fate either.

Dir: Carl Joglar
Star: Colleen Slattery, Sarah Villegas, Nicholas Wilder

Nowhere Girl

★★½
“Slow, slow, slow-slow, quick…”

For the first hour, you may be forgiven for wondering if there has been some kind of mistake, because the poster bears almost no resemblance to what happens in the film. Oh, it’s the same actress, to be sure, and she is a schoolgirl. But it appears, rather than the war story promised, you have strayed into a teenage drama. In it, Ai (Seino) is a talented but troubled student, who seems to be suffering from some kind of post-traumatic stress disorder. The special treatment she receives at school brings her enmity as a result, both from her class-mates and the er homeroom teacher (Kaneko). Though she finds solace in art, including a mysterious major project on which she is working, housed in the school auditorium.

It’s all very subdued. There’s a lot of scenes of people standing around talking. Or, for variety, sitting around talking. The camera is considerably more mobile than the characters, engaging in stately pans and tracking shots around the dialogue, accompanied by classical music that’s positively soporific. Yet, it’s clear there’s something “off” about the whole situation. The school is frequently shaken by earthquakes, and it’s apparent that Ai has a tendency to outbursts of violence, which is bubbling just below the surface. The staff and other students don’t pay attention to the warning signs, and continue to push Ai’s buttons. You’ll understand where I thought this was potentially going to end up, delivering on the image with her going postal on the school.

Not quite.

Trust Oshii to make something which confounds expectations, while still somehow managing to disappoint. See  Avalon or Assault Girls, both films with massive potential, that fall short of realizing it. Here, you have a film which would potentially be a classic, if it started at the hour mark, then built on what follows, for another hour after the credits actually roll. Because what kicks off – at the 67-minute mark if you’re interested in fast-forwarding to that point – is beautifully staged. There’s a spectacular sequence of kung- and gun-fu, whose highlight for me was Ai taking the term “human shield” to a whole new level. Then a revelation to set up a whole new scenario, one that looks very interesting, and… The End.

I do have to mark this down for the film trying to pull off the most clichéd of clichéd twists which, to a significant degree, renders everything previous to that point a waste of everybody’s time. You need to be a supremely confident film-maker to pull it off; while it’s clear Oshii doesn’t lack in confidence, pulling the carpet out from under the viewer really needs to have happened 10-15 minutes in. The longer the conceit is sustained, the more likely the audience’s reaction will be “You’ve got to be kidding me” – and there might well be an epithet dropped in before “kidding”, too. Some day Oshii will deliver on his undeniable talent and imagination. Just not today.

Dir: Mamoru Oshii
Star: Nana Seino, Nobuaki Kaneko, Lily, Hirotaro Honda

No Honor in Death, by Eric Thomson

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

This SF novel takes place in the future where the human Commonwealth is engaged in a brutal space war against the militaristic Shrehari Empire – imagine Klingons on krack, perhaps. They have superior technology, but humanity’s ability to think outside the box and improvise has helped level the playing field. Siobhan Dunmoore has just survived  – emphasis on “just” – a battle against the Imperial cruiser Tol Vakash of Captain Brakal, forcing him to retreat by attempting a kamikaze crash of her badly-damaged craft into his. As a “reward”, she is assigned command of the Stingray, a craft with a bad reputation. Its previous captain is now facing a Disciplinary Board, and the crew are barely even trying. It seems Dunmoore has been set up to fail, and she’ll need to overcome resistance from enemies both domestic and alien, as well as overt and covert, before she can even think about going another round with Captain Brakal.

I felt the most interesting section of this was following Dunmoore as she attempted to lick her crew and the Stingray back into a shape, where they could survive an encounter with the Shrehari. Both of them are in need of a lot of work. The former are utterly demoralized after events under the previous captain (including a number of suspicious deaths), and the latter has been short-changed on supplies and resources, to the point it’s largely held together with sticks and wire. Fixing them require their new captain to use a lot of psychology, both in order to get the crew to trust her, and extract the necessary materials from the Commonwealth and its bureaucracy. It works almost as a “how-to” manual for aspiring leaders, and even if that’s not exactly me, still makes for an engaging read. I also liked the very final face-off between Dunmoore and Brakal, their two ships edging round the perilous environment of an asteroid field, where Stingray‘s manoeuvrability gives it an edge. 

However, in between the Stingray taking off and the last battle, the book struggles with its descriptive passages. There is a large chunk taking place in hyperspace, and Thomson never manages to make clear the rules which apply here, resulting in the discussion of “jumps” and “bubbles” failing to make sense. Worse, this brings the pace of the book to a halt, with entire pages you find yourself barely skim-reading. There’s also rather too extended of a coda after the battle, as the book tries to tie up a lot of loose ends – mostly ones we never particularly cared about to begin with. On the other hand, I did appreciate the effort put into making Brakal an interesting adversary, with his own set of motivations. He and Dunmoore represent the book’s greatest strengths, and it’s at its best when concentrating on them. If subsequent volumes do that, I’d be tempted to try them.

Author: Eric Thomson
Publisher: Sanddiver Books, available through Amazon, both as a paperback and an e-book
1 of 7 in the Siobhan Dunmoore series.

The Novice

★★★
“Rock out, with your cox out.”

Rowing is not a pastime to which I’ve ever given much thought. It’s the backdrop for this, and is based (to some extent) on writer-director Hadaway’s experiences of the sport at college. Her cinematic background is in sound editing, where she worked on films such as The Hateful Eight and – probably of most relevance here – Whiplash. The latter was a study of obsession in the pursuit of talent, and is echoed in the story here.

Alex Dall (Fuhrman) is the archetypal Type A personality, driven to push herself beyond what normal people would consider necessary. For example, she chooses her weakest subject of physics to be her college major, largely for the challenge. Similarly, she decides to take up rowing, and approaches this with the same, relentless single-minded determination and will to succeed. It’s not enough for her simply to make the freshman team. She wants to be part of the top-ranked varsity crew. And Alex doesn’t care about making friends in the process.

As such, she is a contrast to Jamie (Forsyth), another rookie, who joins the team at the same point. Her motivation is very different. She needs the scholarship that making varsity will bring, otherwise (in a rather snobbish plot-point) she will have to go to a less prestigious educational establishment. Inevitably, despite Alex and Jamie being initially friends, through the shared traumas of the hellacious training regime, their competition eventually puts them at odds with each other.

In another film, Jamie would be the protagonist, with Alex the nemesis who has to be battled. Here, though, the focus is on Alex, and the almost self-destructive way in which her obsession with being the best, wrecks every relationship she has, including that with teaching assistant Dani (Dilone). While her coaches certainly admire Alex’s unbeatable work ethic, the film also makes the point, quite forcibly, that in a team sport like rowing eights, other factors matter as much as, if not more so, than just talent. People skills are important too: for you do not necessarily have to like your team-mates, in order to become a cohesive unit. But you do have to respect them.

Hadaway’s experience is particularly apparent in the audio design, which definitely enhances the action oriented sequences, and the sardonic use of music such as Brenda Lee’s “I’m Sorry”. However, it does also appear she never met an opportunity for a montage she could turn down, and if you’ve seen any sports movies, you’ll know these are beyond cliche, even with all the director’s talents in the sound department. Alex is also not a very likable character: while that is clearly the point, it still has a distancing effect on the viewer. Part of me was subconsciously hoping for Alex to fail or even get struck by lightning (an apparently significant threat to rowers). The end does imply at least the potential for change in Alex is still there. Whether it will ever stick, I’m less convinced.

Dir: Lauren Hadaway
Star: Isabelle Fuhrman, Amy Forsyth, Dilone, Jonathan Cherry

Never Back Down: Revolt

★★★½
“The women are revolting!”

The “underground fighting” subgenre is among the most macho of action films, so it’s interesting that this entry doesn’t just feature a female protagonist. It’s also written and directed by women, with the lead villain also from that gender. It’s a particularly novel twist, considering the previous three installments in the Never Back Down franchise were, by most accounts, competent yet entirely generic, male-dominated movies. I say “by most accounts,” since I’ll confess to not having seen them. This is both a positive and a negative, I think. It means I can go into this with no preconceptions or expectations. On the other hand, it also means I can’t compare it to the rest of the series.

The latter is perhaps less important since it seems to be a sequel in name only, without any characters or story-line carrying forward. The heroine is Anya (Popica), a Chechen refugee now living in London with her brother, Aslan (Bastow), who takes part in those underground fights. After failing to throw a fight, he finds himself thirty grand in debt to some very nasty people. But Anya, who’s no novice with her own fists, gets an offer from swanky promoter Mariah (Johnston) to help pay off the arrears with a trip to Italy. Naturally, it turns out to be a front for “fight trafficking”, with the female participants held against their will, and shipped off to Albanian brothels, when they can no longer battle for the amusement of rich patrons. The title tells you the rest of the plot.

Madison isn’t without an action pedigree, having directed rather good short, The Gate, starring site favourite Amy Johnston. That’s currently being shopped around to become a feature; fingers crossed that happens. In the meantime, this would appear to match its predecessors in being competent, yet entirely generic. Everything unfolds exactly as you would expect, if you’re at all familiar with this kind of thing. It’s the kind of film where you can pop into the kitchen for 10 minutes without pausing it, make a sandwich and a cup of coffee, and return, safe in the knowledge that you’ll still be able to follow the plot perfectly well. I can neither confirm nor deny having done exactly that.

While predictable, it’s never dull though. Popica doesn’t appear to have any particular martial arts background, yet is decent enough to pass muster (even if you wonder what someone like Amy Johnston might have done in the part). There’s a laudable and complete lack of romance here, just the sibling relationship. I could probably have used some more action, even if the quality of what there is, is decent. I particularly liked the fate meted out to the chief guard. The size issue, inevitably present in mixed-gender fights, is overcome by having him held down by two women in a bath, while a third shanks him very enthusiastically. In comparison, Ghislaine Maxwell Mariah seems to get off easy, just when I was looking forward to her getting her just deserts. Still, solid enough to leave me anticipating what The Gate feature might be like.

Dir: Kellie Madison
Star: Olivia Popica, Tommy Bastow, Brooke Johnston, Nitu Chandra

Made to Be Broken, by Kelley Armstrong

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

Although I first experienced this series through the two sequel novellas, this second installment of Armstrong’s Nadia Stafford trilogy would be best read after the series opener, Exit Strategy. References are made to events in the first book, and to parts of Nadia’s backstory which are detailed there, and these are much more meaningful if you’ve read the first installment. Even more importantly, Armstrong really introduces Nadia’s complex character and current circumstances in depth in the first book; the development she undergoes here presupposes that foundation. (That’s also true for other characters from that book who continue to play roles here; you need the full-orbed picture to understand them.)

Some six months have passed since the events of the earlier novel. Nadia’s kept in contact with Quinn, a U.S. federal cop who secretly moonlights as a vigilante assassin. He’s romantically interested in Nadia; her feelings about him are more ambiguous (even to her), but she values his friendship. As a teen, she came close to qualifying for Canada’s Olympic distance shooting team. That gives her very formidable skills with a sniper rifle; and when this book opens, she’s peering through the scope of one from a belfry in downtown Toronto. Quinn’s solicited her help with one of his hits. That particular episode, though, is over quickly and painlessly for all concerned. It serves mainly to remind us (and to clue in readers who skipped the series opener) that as fictional female sleuths go, our protagonist is not nearly so law-abiding a member of that sorority as, say, Nancy Drew. She is, however, one who has some investigative know-how, which she’s willing to use in a good cause if it’s needed –and it’s soon going to be, sorely.

Even with her off-the-books side income, Nadia can’t afford to pay more than a tiny staff at her guest lodge; but out of kindness, she’s given a job as assistant housekeeper to a 17-year-old girl from the nearby small town of White Rock, Sammi Ernst. Sammi’s foul-mouthed, barely literate, and has a chip on her shoulder; the latter isn’t surprising, given her life situation. She’s the out-of-wedlock daughter of Janie Ernst. Both women are widely looked down on in the community –Janie because she’s a drunken, mean-tempered, self-centered deadbeat, and Sammi mainly because she has Janie for an (abusive) mother. Also a single mom herself, Sammi’s not promiscuous like Janie (she had a single affair, with a visiting rich college kid who wasn’t interested in marriage or fatherhood, and left her to bear his unacknowledged daughter alone); and also unlike her own mom, she genuinely loves baby Destiny, and wants to work to support her, rather than making a dead-end career out of welfare dependency as Janie has.

When, soon after Nadia’s return home, Sammi and Destiny don’t come back from their usual evening walk in the woods, there are things that strongly suggest to our heroine that their disappearance wasn’t voluntary. But White Rock’s police force is small, not especially competent, and has other priorities; and the two senior officers despise Nadia because of the way she was kicked out of the force years ago, so aren’t disposed to take anything she says seriously. As far as they’re concerned, Sammi obviously just ran off; because, hey, that’s what trashy teens can be expected to do, right? Most of the townsfolk are quite content with that explanation. (Janie’s only feeling about the matter is anger at losing the rent money she charged the girl.) Of the few who aren’t, Nadia’s the only one actually capable of looking into the matter. But though Jack’s been out of touch for about six months, he’ll soon be at the lodge recovering from a broken ankle. (And don’t forget about Quinn, either.)

This is a gritty, page-turning mystery, reflecting the violent stylistic school associated mostly with American writers (rather than the more cerebral traditional school of Doyle and Christie). A number of people are going to die here, not all of whom deserve to, because we’re dealing with ruthless villains with no consciences. (While this is fiction, it looks at a dark underbelly of anomic modern society in a way that could easily be true.) And Nadia being who she is, the mode of dealing with some of these types may be with the business end of a pistol. As another reviewer commented, her ethics and moral compass may not be something all readers endorse (I don’t, as such –and Nadia doesn’t claim saint status for herself, either).

But she does HAVE ethics and a moral compass; and for me, the way she sincerely tries to grapple with balancing it with the realities of a very grim world, in which the law doesn’t always serve justice or protect the helpless, is one of the great strengths of the series, and a source of its considerable emotional power. That’s as true of this book as of the others. Despite the body count, there’s no wallowing in blood and gore, and no sex as such, though there are a few “sexual situations.” Romantic feelings and angst are not a major strand of the plot here. Nadia’s narrative voice, IMO, is perfect for these books. The one negative is the amount of f-words and profanity from some characters, especially Jack. I admit that this is “realistic” for speakers who are steeped in this milieu, and have the backgrounds that some of them do; but I don’t really need that much pedantic realism. But the strong character portrayals and serious moral reflection here earn the book its stars despite that factor.

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

The New Prometheus, by Andrew Dobell

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

The setting is a dystopian version of London, which has become separated into two distinct halves, and classes of residents. It’s a world in which cybernetic enhancements are common. But they come at the cost of a debt – sometimes, virtual enslavement – to the powerful corporations who supply and maintain them. Frankie has resisted these, preferring to retain her humanity, and journeys into the dangerous undercity, to help those less fortunate. But on one such trip, she’s shot and left for dead. Rescued by the renegade Doctor Xenox, she wakes to find herself in a new, artificial and highly-powered body. She’s not too happy about it. Things get worse, for the doctor’s erstwhile corporate employers,  Psytech, consider Frankie v2.0 as their property, and will stop at nothing to get her under control. As a result, with the help of the Doctor, and cop Gibson, she has to fend off the assembled forces of Psytech.

From the title and the lead character’s name, I was expecting more of a Frankenstein theme, but that appears mostly a surface patina. A bigger influence – and this is openly acknowledged in the blurb – would be the likes of Battle Angel Alita, with its young heroine seeking her own identity and self-determination, after having the “benefits” of technology imposed on her. Though the adjustment to her new form is super easy – barely an inconvenience – to the point that I’d be leaving a five-star review on Amazon for the cybernetic implants, and maybe even signing up for that extended warranty. Indeed, there’s disappointingly little internal conflict at all, and that’s where it differs from the various cyberpunk heroines cited as inspiration. Towards the end, there’s a sequence where Psytech hacks its own customers, turning them into meat puppets they can use against Frankie and her allies. Having something like this attempted against her would have helped negate the strong sense she’s over-powered. She largely breezes through her various conflicts, with little if any credible sense of threat to her.

Against this, the world building is pretty good – though, again, the separation into over- and under-class bears more than a slight resemblance to Alita. The concept of “Neo-London”, however, is a nice riff on Akira‘s post-nuclear Neo-Tokyo. I’d liked to have heard more about how it operated, and exactly how the corporations became so seemingly all-powerful. Maybe some more British flavour, too? Although, on the other hand, the ability of one young woman to stand against and defeat everything they throw at her does defuse Psytech’s omnipotence. It does escalate nicely, to a grandstand and action-packed finale after Psytech take over Gibson’s police station. and Dobell does a good job of balancing the need to wrap things up, with opening the door to further volumes. If there’s not an enormous amount new here, and little depth either (it’s not exactly Ghost in the Shell), it’s still well-enough executed to be an adequately entertaining read.

Author: Andrew Dobell
Publisher: Amazon Digital Services, available through Amazon, both as a paperback and an e-book
1 of 4 in the New Prometheus series.

Nicole

★★★½
“Patience is a virtue.”

If you came into this with absolutely no previous knowledge (including the poster on the right!), you’d be forgiven if you spent the first forty minutes thinking this was an independent drama about the perils of professional dating life in the big city. Then, suddenly, it’s very not. But initially, it’s about Nicole (Shannon), who while she may be a little strange and anti-social, doesn’t seem all that far outside the bounds of normal behaviour. Well, I guess her carting a bottle of hard liquor to work, for drinking sessions in the bathroom, is somewhat problematic. Maybe her imagining dinner with her parents could be a bit of a red flag. [The film makes nice use of switching between b&w and colour, to separate reality from flashbacks and fantasy] But, all told, she’s fairly high-functioning.

That all changes when she goes out on a rare date with John (Green), whom she met through an online app. She’s simultaneously fending off advances from a co-worker (Busey) and neighbour (Lockhart) – it must be said, all the men here fall somewhere on the creepy/predatory spectrum. What we know, but Nicole initially does not, is that John is well toward the latter, with a fondness for date rape and every intention of adding Nicole to his list of dubious conquests. However, her day drinking has given her a remarkable tolerance for alcohol, so when he makes his move, she’s not as drunk as she should be, and fights back, with no shortage of vigour. As well as a knife. That’s where the tone of the film changes drastically. We’re not in Sex and the City any more, Toto.

The rest is considerably closer to pitch-black humour, as Nicole has to come to terms with the consequences of her actions. Realizing what John was intending, she decides simply to dispose of his body. This requires a late-night trip to the hardware store, where the Goth assistant nods approvingly at her selection of tools. Then there’s the actual dismemberment, not helped by John’s corpse continuing to talk to her throughout the process. For example, he requests a refill on his wine, only to realize it’s hard to drink since she’s removed his hands.

This disposal reminded me a little of A Good Woman is Hard to Find, though that was thoroughly serious. There are also elements of Ms. 45. in a blurring of the lines between reality and delusion, which are deftly handled. Regular readers won’t be surprised to learn I preferred this second half of the film. I was actually a bit disappointed things ended when they did, more or less with Nicole’s return to work, and in a maybe or maybe not more well-adjusted state. It felt there was mileage left on the table, with her further adventures as an IT worker, moonlighting as a killer of sexual predators. We can only hope for Nicole 2: Ax Me Anything at some point down the road.

Dir: James Schroeder
Star: Tamika Shannon, Stephen Green, Ke’Shawn Bussey, Tre Lockhart

Night Witches in the Sky

★★★
“Spirits in the sky.”

kinopoisk.ru

This was made in the early eighties, when the Soviet Union and United States were making loud, growling sounds at each other. Being a product of that era perhaps explains the way this feels almost like a propaganda film, made to inspire the population to be prepared to fight in defense of the motherland. Its closest cousin on this site is therefore the similar Chinese film, The Red Detachment of Women. The topic here is one we’ve covered before: the renowned “Night Witches”, the all-female air force squadron, who carried out reconnaissance and bombing missions against the Germans on the Eastern front, during the second half of World War II.

The two central characters are Galya Polikarpova (Druz) and Oksana Zakharchenko (Grushina). The former is recuperating from injury in hospital, but sneaks out against doctor’s orders in order to rejoin her colleagues on the front lines. The pair are hauled over the coals for this by their long-suffering commanding officer (Menshikova), but are able to escape punishment due to the shortage of fliers making operational needs more important. Thereafter… Well, to be perfectly honest, not a great deal happens, and the film comes in at less than 80 minutes.  At points, it almost feels like an edited-down version of a longer feature.

For instance, there’s one point where they are being harried by a Messerschmitt – then, suddenly, they’re landing in a field to sweep up an orphaned boy, Fyodor (Zamulin), who becomes an unofficial mascot of the squadron, despite efforts by the higher-ups to send him away. There’s also a long-distance romance between Galya and another soldier that didn’t do much for me.

However, one point about this production is particularly worth noting. Director Yevgeniya Zhigulenko was actually a “night witch” herself, having been a member of the 588th Night Bomber Regiment. Initially a navigator in May 1942, she became a pilot and eventually a flight commander. By the end of the war, she had flown close to a thousand sorties, and been awarded the title of Hero of the Soviet Union. There can’t be many films from any country set in World War II, which were directed by someone who took part in the events depicted.

This was one of two features she made, and seems more functional than particularly artistic, though may have been constrained by its budget. Some of the flying sequences are… let’s say, not particularly convincing. But perhaps due to the director’s background, it does have a down-to-earth (pun not intended) approach which does occasionally work in the film’s favour. One example would be when the women are struggling to get their planes launched out of the mud, after heavy rain. But generally, the tempo is kept upbeat and patriotically optimistic, with only occasional nods to the heavy toll of life taken by the conflict. All told, a decent effort; I’d just give the edge to the TV series Night Swallows, whose greater length allows for more depth in its characterizations.

Dir: Yevgeniya Zhigulenko
Star: Yana Druz, Valentina Grushina, Dima Zamulin, Nina Menshikova
a.k.a. V nebe ‘Nochnye vedmy’