Month: May 2020

Killing Eve: Season Three

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★★
“How the mighty are fallen.”

I remember how the first series of Killing Eve blew my socks off, and was completely unlike anything else on television. The second series fell short, but that was unsurprising – how could it be otherwise? – and there was still the chance for it to mount a course correction and recover. This third installment, however, has if anything accelerated the downward trend. What was once must-see television has become something which sits on in the background, typically as I surf the Internet on my phone. I can’t think of another series which has collapsed in such a remarkably brief time-frame.

The problem is, the writers have completely forgotten what made the show work was the dynamic between Russian assassin Villanelle (Comer) and the MI5 agent, Eve (Oh), who is on her tail. I was wary of the frantic, moist fan ‘shipping which went on over this – at a level I haven’t experienced in anything I’ve been part of, since the more rabid elements of Xena fandom in the nineties. Yet I couldn’t deny it was the chemistry between the two characters which defined the show and made it work. Yet, the focus of the second season seemed to drift from this, and in the third, it felt more like I was flicking between two different shows. It felt as if Villanelle and Eve operated in the same universe only barely, and hardly crossed paths at all.

Indeed, it also seemed to forget what Villanelle was: an assassin. We’ve gone far from the glorious spectacle kills we saw previously, Here, she has become so sloppy, she can’t even dispatch Eve’s husband with a pitchfork to the neck properly. Our anti-heroine seemed instead to spend more of this season faffing around Europe, from Spain to Russia. This involved Villanelle either bitching at co-workers with the shadowy organization known as The Twelve, trying to reconnect to her family (an endeavour so clearly doomed from the start, you wonder why they bothered), or grooming the daughter of former handler Konstantin, for reasons which never pay off adequately.

At least Villanelle is getting some stuff to do, even if it’s far from enthralling. Eve, on the other hand, spent much of the season stuck in a holding pattern, when seen in any form – at least one episode went by without her appearing at all. Eve appears little if any closer to tracking down her nemesis than she was at the beginning of the first season, and her investigation into The Twelve has born equally little fruit. It has cost Eve her husband, so there has been an emotional price. However, he was always painted by the show as being a bit of a dick, whose fidelity was questionable, so the impact of this loss feels limited.

Put bluntly, while the two lead actresses are doing their best, I don’t care any longer about the characters or their fates. And probably never will, for as long as the showrunner appears more concerned with shoehorning in Taylor Swift covers than developing the story. Sorry. Just not interested.

Showrunner: Suzanne Heathcote
Star: Jodie Comer, Sandra Oh, Fiona Shaw, Darren Boyd

Maatr

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★★½
“Made first, seen second, and second-rate.”

I was clued into this when researching my review of Mom, and found a number of articles which mentioned its similarities to a previously-released film Maatr. Which turned out to be available on Amazon Prime, so here we are. Turns out it in turn was inspired by a Korean movie, Don’t Cry Mommy. Guess you should expect a review of that in due course, as I head further down the rabbit-hole. Anyway, this is acceptable rather than memorable. If definitely falls short of Mom,mostly due to the relatively bland and forgettable lead performance of Tandon as Vidya Chauhan.

She and her daughter are heading home from a school function when their car is run off the road. The injured women are taken to a remote farmhouse, and brutally raped. Dumped by the roadside, the mother survives. The daughter does not. Vidya has the help and support of her best friend, Ritu (Jagdale), who takes her in after the subsequent implosion of her marriage. The authorities? Not so much. For they fail to take action, when they discover one of the men Vidya identifies is the son (Mittal) of a powerful politician. If she wants justice, she is forced to take matters into her own hands.

It’s all handled competently enough, though there are plenty of plot elements which had me raising a quizzical eyebrow. In the middle, we have a montage including the heroine working out, but that implies a physicality that is never fully exploited. For example, she kills the first victim by loosening the wheel of his motor-cycle, and the second by doctoring his cocaine, neither exactly requiring strength or fitness. As an aside, amused to see the film: a) blur out the search-engine results when she’s researching drugs, b) asterisk out bad words in the subtitles, and c) put “Smoking Kills” in the bottom right of the screen, every time someone lights up. Such social responsibility can only be admired.

That the mother was a direct victim does give it a different feel to Mom, though I’m not sure it’s better. This feels more a personal vendetta than a quest for justice on behalf of a wronged innocent. But I’m also uncertain how much of the lesser impact is due to Tandon simply not being anywhere near as good an actress as Sridevi. However, there are some decent moments, such as the casual way her husband declares the end of the marriage, finishing with a request to pass the ketchup. The actual attack is also well-handled; savage without being explicit. However, in contrast to its terseness, the aftermath is drawn out too long, with an excess of moping about, before the heroine gets her butt in gear. The trope of politicians and their relatives being above the law is one which is quickly becoming a cliche, even in my limited experience of Bollywood film. While perhaps a victim of being seen second, there’s just not very much reason to watch this rather than Mom.

Dir: Ashter Syed
Star: Raveena Tandon, Madhur Mittal, Anurag Arora, Divya Jagdale

SheChotic

  By

★½
“You’ll need a break.”

Within about two minutes of starting this, I realized I had made a terrible mistake, and was watching something barely reaching the amateur level of film production. Still, I soldiered on – albeit for some loose definition of “soldiered” – until the bitter end, mostly so I could issue an informed warning about this to any prospective viewers. Maxine (Mitchell) is rather upset when she discovers her boyfriend, music video producer Lance (Watts) has been cheating on her with Lana (Bryant). Mind you, she’s clearly a bit unhinged already: for example, telling him she’s pregnant when she isn’t. So it’s not much of a surprise when her reaction to his two-timing is to kidnap Lance, tie him up in her basement and submit him to various indignities, along with seeking revenge on Lana. Which, apparently, includes sleeping with her father (Walker).

If this all sounds like completely ludicrous and implausible nonsense… I have done my job as a reviewer, because that’s exactly what it is, buttressed by poor audio quality, questionable directorial decisions (the conversation where the camera spins around the participants like a hyperactive house-fly was an especially dubious choice) and a final twist which managed to be both out of left field and entirely predictable at the same time. About the only thing which I did quite like, was the way Maxine’s personality splits into two distinct characters. One is urging her on to do ever more malicious deeds, while the other is trying to take a higher moral path. Surprisingly – considering the ineptness everywhere else – it’s decently handled on both sides of the camera. Even if I doubt anyone ever thought, “I want an erotic thriller which largely avoids actually nudity, with a black, female version of Gollum in it,” this aspect is likely responsible for this avoiding a dreaded and rarely awarded one-star rating.

I was amused by the po-faced disclaimer from the director which opens this: “Due to my strong convictions, I wish to stress that this film in no way endorses support of violence, abuse against women or other subject matter that may be considered offensive.” Several points come to mind. Firstly, if you have to add a disclaimer to your film like that, you’re doing it wrong. Secondly, it’s little more than empty virtue signaling anyway: It’d be far more notable if a director stated “I wholeheartedly endorse violence.” Thirdly, any abuse here is far more by women: what is Mr. Fiori’s stance on that? Sadly, it appears we will never know, save for the unlikely event of there being a SheChotic 2. Fourthly and finally, it’s never a good sign when the text which starts your movie is worthy of deeper analysis and commentary than 95% of what follows it. Though if it had instead simply read, “Abandon hope all ye who enter here,” it would certainly have been equally valid.

Dir: Leandre Fiori
Star: Erica Mitchell, Robert D Watts, Brittany Bryant, Jason Walker

Angelbound, by Christina Bauer

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

It’s nice to be reminded of why I’m generally averse to romance in my reading – particularly poorly written and unconvincing romance, like we get here. An interesting scenario with potential gets bogged down in gooey mush during the second half: let’s just say, there are phrases such as “my tummy goes all tingly again.” Yes: again…  If I wasn’t already committed by that stage, being more than half-way through a 500+ page book, that sentence might well have led to this ending up as a Did Not Finish. Instead, I figured I’d at least get a review out of it. You’re welcome.

As noted, the setting isn’t the problem. It takes place in Purgatory, which in this rendition is basically a clearing house for souls with no particular destination. Will that be heaven or hell? One of the ways this can be decided is trial by combat, and on the opposition team responsible for dispatching them in the arena there is Myla Lewis, a quasi-demon 18-year-old, whose combat skills belie her years. It’s supposed to be a neutral location, but is increasingly coming under the thumb of Armageddon, the King of Hell, whose forces staged a velvet glove occupation around the time Myla was born. And speaking of which, who was her father anyway?

It’s populated by a whole host of supernatural tribes. Deoms, quasi-demons, angels, ghouls and the thrax, who are demon hunters, as well as a whole host of cross-breeds between them. This makes for a murky diplomatic situation, in which the various groups struggle – both overtly and covertly – for power. Myla really just wants to kick ass in the arena, but life and the deteriorating political situation have other plans. Not least in the well-muscled shape of Lincoln, a thrax prince. Which, of course, makes things tricky given Myla’s partly demonic ancestry. 

And that’s where the whole thing falls apart. We go from mutual disgust to tingly tummies, on both sides, without apparently passing through any of the intervening stages, and is not in the least bit convincing. Meanwhile, Myla is being drip-fed information about her heritage and past events through angel-controlled dreams, even though it seems everyone – not least her mother – knows exactly who her father was, for example. It’s contrived purely for the sake of drama, and isn’t exactly subtle about it. Equally inevitably, we end up discovering that Myla isn’t just a normal teenage girl – or normal teenage part-demon, anyway. It’s likely no spoiler to reveal that her flowering abilities end up with her going toe-to-toe with Armageddon.

Bauer does have a decent handle on the action, and the moments where she gets to let rip in that direction are effective. Some imagery will stick in my mind, such as the torture Armageddon inflicts on Myla’s father just before their final face-off. But this doesn’t come anywhere close to balancing the cringeworthy romance, and I’ve absolutely no interest in going further. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I think my tummy is going a bit tingly too. Just not for the same reasons as Myla’s…

Author: Christina Bauer
Publisher: Monster House Books, available through Amazon, both as a paperback and an e-book
1 of 8 in the Angelbound Origins series.

Kunoichi Hunters: Sentenced to Female Hell

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★★★
“Not so hellish.”

This rating is perhaps influenced by my seriously low expectations here. Having seen my share of generic “female ninja” films, all too often they tend to be thinly-disguised exercises in soft-porn. Any action elements are usually secondary, at best. That’s not the case here. Well, at least, not entirely. You’ll not mistake this for Crouching Tiger, yet there has been some thought put into the plot and characters, and this helps elevate proceedings to the level of satisfactorily watchable. Which is, as noted, considerably more than I was anticipating. It comes as a pleasant surprise, especiallyfor a film so obscurist, the IMDb doesn’t recognize it, director Noto’s sole credits being as an assistant in that role. The Amazon Prime synopsis is also from Kunoichi, and so wildly inaccurate in every way.

The actual story present concerns Benimaru (Asami), a member of a clan of ninjas, who has been tasked with assassinating a feudal lord and stealing a scroll containing the location of his treasure. While she succeeds, this is only the start of her issues. The lord’s family sends out hunters after her; various independent parties are after the scroll as well; and even her own clan seek to dispose of her. For, as we eventually find out, Benimaru only accepted the mission to try and save her girlfriend, Kikyo (Ayana), from execution, after they were caught in flagrante. When they meet up, a happy ending seems possible – yet is far from inevitable.

We’ve covered a number of Asami films before, the most notable ones being Gun Woman, The Machine Girl and the Lust of the Dead trilogy, and she provides good value again here. She’s perhaps the modern equivalent of someone like Meiko Kaji, with charisma that elevates almost anything she’s in. There is genuine acting to be seen, such as in her scenes with Kikyo and she also is capable of doing a bit more than simply waving a sword about. It helps that Noto, whether by accident or design, keeps the camera relatively static. The plot provides a constant stream of obstacles to be overcome, such as the brother and sister bounty-hunters. Perhaps there just wasn’t any chance for more than the couple of sexy scenes (one with the lord, the other with her girlfriend) which get squeezed in to the 70-minute running time.

It’s to the film’s credit that it would work as a low-budget actioner, even without the nudity at all. Admittedly, the production values extend to little more than a few costumes, with the bulk of the film spent either running around a forest, or sitting around a cave. Yet the cast and crew manage to keep it more interesting than that might sound, with the heroine quickly realizing that few people are what they seem. Mind you, she gives as good as she gets on that front, with her ninja talents including voice impersonation. And, it seems, hiding underneath an extremely large straw hat. Who knew?

Dir: Hidemi Noto
Star: Asami, Rei Ayana, Takashi Irie, Yoshihiro Sato

The Furies

  By

★★★½
“The Most Dangerous Game (mixed doubles edition)”

There has been a whole slew of films over the year which have been based on the theme of “hunting humans”. Initially, this Australian entry seems to be going straight down the same line. Kayla (Dodds) has an argument in the street with her best friend. After the latter storms off, Kayla hears her shout for help, but while investigating, is herself abducted. She wakes to find herself in a crate in the middle of some very remote woods. She discovers other women in the same situation, and that they are being chased by beweaponed, masked men with very unpleasant intentions. The area is ring-fenced with electronic barriers which block any exit: survival is going to require Kayla to tap into her inner savage.

All of which is largely as standard, save for some eye-poppingly intense gore. This starts early on, with someone losing the front of their face to an ax. Very slowly. [It was at this point I stopped the film until Chris got home, so she and I could watch it together. Yeah: our “date nights” are a little strange!] There were similarly impressive moments throughout, with a preponderance of practical effects, of which I’m always a fan. Anyway, back at the plot, the other twist also becomes apparent, in that the masked attackers are not operating as one. Indeed, the opening sequence makes clear that them attacking each other is also part of the “game”. And, it turns out, the same goes for the supposed victims. Not for nothing are the crates which hold them and the women labelled “Beast #X” and “Beauty #Y” as appropriate… 

This is a very smart move, adding a whole skein of twists to proceedings, and giving a set-up where Kayla doesn’t know who she can trust on either side. The resulting paranoia brings so much potential for conflict, it is actually a shame the angle doesn’t really blossom until the final third. It would have been more fun, and certainly more obviously “different”, if the ground rules had been established from the beginning. Perhaps with an induction video given by a hyper-perky presenter, as in Battle Royale. There’s definitely a sense of a bigger picture here, which is only glimpsed occasionally. Knowing more about it would have made for a different, and arguably better, experience. The same goes for the technological beats, which raise more questions than they answer.

Another interesting aspect is that there is not a single speaking role for a man in the film. That’s not something you see often, especially in the horror genre. Given the first time we see the heroine, she and her friend are graffiting “FUCK PATRIARCHY” on a wall, this is presumably not accidental, though the movie never puts the message ahead of its story. While men are seen and not heard, the movie makes it clear that women are hardly saintly creatures, inevitably relegated to the role of victim. It turns out, they can be just as malevolently vicious as men. And that, I feel, is true equality at work.

Dir: Tony D’Aquino
Star: Airlie Dodds, Linda Ngo, Taylor Ferguson, Ebony Vagulans

Truck Stop Women

  By

★★★
“Blood is thicker than water. But gasoline is thicker still.”

Ostensibly, Anna (Dressler) runs a New Mexico truck-stop, catering to drivers and ensuring they are kept fed and watered as they run their rigs across country. However, she has several more lucrative businesses. It seems that a majority of her waitresses, for example, moonlight as hookers in the brothel Anna runs. But the key side-line of work is sending her gals out to lure in unsuspecting truckers, typically with an alluring combination of fake breakdowns and tight shorts. When the truckers stop, their vehicles are hijacked, the contents stolen and the trucks themselves repainted and sold on.

It’s this which brings Anna to the attention of the East coast mafia, who send over a couple of goons to muscle in and make Anna an offer she can’t refuse. Not helping matters, Anna’s daughter, Rose (Jennings), is tired of being Mom’s servant, and wants her independence, so hooks up with Smith (Martino), one of the goons. When Anna gets word of a truck carrying bearer bonds passing through her territory, she starts to plan her biggest heist ever. But can Rose be trusted to play her part? Or will she be prepared to sacrifice her own family, in order to exchange roadside life in New Mexico for the bright, big city lights of Las Vegas?

This is generally a brisk, breezy film, which managed to beat Convoy to the punch by four years. The soundtrack is pure country-and-western cheese, songs about the joys of trucks and trucking, and relentlessly upbeat [performed by Bobby Hart, at the time Claudia Jennings’s boyfriend]. This becomes horribly inappropriate at the film’s end: without spoiling it, there’s the death of one major character, and we immediately cut to the end credits, playing out over yet another relentlessly upbeat song about the joys of trucks and trucking. Ouch. In general though, this is entertaining nonsense. It’s particularly notable for the way it portrays working class Southern rednecks in a generally positive way. Ok, outside of the whole “career criminal” thing. For they are depicted as smart – Anna especially –  and certainly more moral than the mob muscle, who are trigger-happy from the very opening scene.

Things are spearheaded by the presence of B-movie queen Jennings, already present on this site for The Great Texas Dynamite Chase, Unholy Rollers and ‘Gator Bait. Though getting less screen-time than her mom,. Rose is the highly watchable centre around which the plot revolves. For you’re never quite sure where her loyalties lie, right up until the final scene. Is she passing information from Anna to the mafia? Or the other way round? Or both? Throw in a healthy amount of female nudity (not least notably from Russ Meyer favorite Uschi Digard) and you’ve got a film which, if unable to spell the word “subtlety”, couldn’t be much more drive-in if it tried.

Fun fact: this film played a role in wrecking the presidential aspirations of Texas senator Phil Gramm in 1995. It came out that  in the seventies he had become “interested in investing in what he called ‘sexploitation’ films after a private viewing of the film.” Yeah, Jennings had that effect on a lot of people.

Dir: Mark L. Lester
Star: Lieux Dressler, Claudia Jennings, Dennis Fimple, John Martino

Book of Monsters

  By

★★★
“Killer party.”

Ten years ago, the mother of eight-year-old Sophie (Craine) was attacked and killed by what her daughter insisted was a monster – a claim to which she held, resulting in her being institutionalized. Now, a somewhat recovered Sophie is about to enjoy her 18th birthday, having organized a party with her friends. But she’s about to discover that the monsters were very real, and just waiting for her to reach adulthood. Fortunately, Mom was a bit of a monster hunter, who conveniently left a book of helpful tips as well as a secret vault of tools and weapons. Together with her pals, Sophie is prepared to make a stand and defend her home against the attackers.

This is, basically, rubbish, assembled on a budget which was clearly woefully short of the needful: the monsters, for example, are little more than blokes in masks. The plot is so hackneyed, it should be pulling a carriage, and the characters are a collection of stereotypes – even if the Goth girl is apparently unable to recognize a pentagram. I’m still unsure whether or not to be annoyed that Sophie’s a lesbian. On the one hand, it has absolutely nothing to do with the plot. On the other… Well, it has absolutely nothing to do with the plot. Yet, I sense that much of this is entirely deliberate. As the sleeve (right) shows, Sparke wanted to make a British version of The Evil Dead 2, complete with a central character who goes from zero to hero.

And, despite all the shortcomings, there’s an energy here which can only be admired and appreciated. It’s very British nature is one of the factors which help skate past the flaws, and it manages simultaneously to be played tongue-in-cheek and dead straight. The fact the lead actress is the world’s least-convincing 17-year-old (I’m not sure how old Craine is, but she graduated university, never mind school, eight years prior to this!), can only be presumed to be part of the joke. Once things start, they don’t stop, and even when the end results are more than a little rough around the edges, you’re still be more inclined to laugh with the film, rather than at it. The demonic worms which turn into killer garden gnomes are a good example of this spirit.

Similarly, despite my qualms about Craine’s credentials as a teenager, she is by no means bad in the role, and has a nicely-developed character arc. Initially, she’s still damaged by the experiences of a decade previously, yet has largely put that behind her. When everything she thought was her imagination, turns out merely to be an appetizer, you can see her internal steel buckle, yet not give way. By the end, she’s kicking arse and wielding that chainsaw as if to the manner born – which, I guess, she was. For a budget of about £60 grand, Craine and his team undeniably do more than a little. Now, someone give them $5 million and let him remake his own film with the budget it needs.

Dir: Stewart Sparke
Star: Lyndsey Craine, Michaela Longden, Lizzie Aaryn-Stanton, Daniel Thrace

Mom

  By

★★★½
“God can’t be everywhere.” “I know. That’s why he created mothers.”

This strong Indian tale of revenge and (step)mother love was, sadly, the last major appearance for its star. Sridevi accidentally drowned in a Dubai hotel, a few months after the film was released. But it’s a wonderful monument to her talent. She plays Devki Sabarwal, a biology teacher who is having trouble in the relationship with her teenage step-daugher, Arya (Ali). But everything changes after Arya is abducted while leaving a party, raped and beaten, then thrown into a roadside ditch. The fact Arya had been drinking is used to discredit her testimony, and the absence of forensic evidence helps her attackers walk free. Blood relation or not, Devki isn’t having that. With the help of private eye DK (Siddiqui), she starts to impose her own kind of justice, despite the increasing suspicions of Detective Francis (Khanna).

At 146 minutes, it’s certainly too long, though this is par for the course in Bollywood. And, at least, the makers wisely abstain from any musical numbers (there are some songs which are a little too foregrounded for my tastes). Despite the length, you’d be hard pushed to call any of it dull, and it’s effective stuff – occasionally, very much so. The assault, for example, isn’t seen. Instead, we follow the car in which it happens from above – pausing as the perpetrators get out to swap sides – before Arya is dumped. Despite, or perhaps because of, such restraint, it packs an undeniable punch. Similarly, the dialogue, such as at the top, between Devki and DK, is sharp and makes you sit up and pay attention, and it’s generally smarter than you’d expect.

In particular, the sequence where she poisons one target with apple seeds, then frames another for the crime. Initially, I was, “Wait, what?” But, some Googling told me seeds contain small amounts of a compound called amygdalin: when chewed or (as here) ground up, this turns into highly toxic hydrogen cyanide. Who knows this stuff? A biology teacher like Devki, that’s who. It’s an interesting exercise to compare and contrast the approach here to Revenge, which covered a not dissimilar topic of a mother seeking justice after the gang-rape of her daughter goes unpunished. Both film and TV series lean heavily on their lead actress, and in each, they are up to the job.

Revenge has the advantage of greater length at which to explore the idea, and when the vengeance comes, it’s considerably more satisfying and brutal. This is perhaps a little too restrained, and the subplot of Arya being Devki’s step- rather than biological daughter feels a bit unnecessarily tacked-on. Mother’s mad skills at breaking and entering are a little unexplained, too. However, I did appreciate the cops’ underestimating her, initially believing her husband to be responsible, and letting Devki get about her work. And if you aren’t standing on your chair and cheering at the end, after Arya calls her “Mom” for the first time…

Dir: Ravi Udyawar
Star: Sridevi, Nawazuddin Siddiqui, Akshaye Khanna, Sajal Ali

The Poppy War, by R.F. Kuang

  By

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

“Was she now a goddess or a monster? Perhaps neither. Perhaps both.”

There can’t be many fantasy novels based on the events of World War II. But here we are, and Kuang has done an amazing job of taking historical events and weaving them into a saga of gods, magical powers and monsters, that works very well, even if you have no clue about the background.

At the beginning, Rin is a young orphan girl in a remote village in the South of the empire. Abused ceaselessly by her foster parents, they’re about to sell her into marriage. Her only hope of escape is to pass the exam which grants admission to the military academy of Sinegard. Even though she succeeds, she remains an outcast there, except to the equally derided Master Jiang, professor of lore. He helps her tap into powers largely forgotten by the Empire, but warns that if she doesn’t control them, they will control her. Her studies are brought to a sudden end when the Federation invades, laying siege to Sinegard. With the city about to fall, desperate measures have to be taken. But some doors, once opened, are an awful lot harder to close.

“This is what you have to tell yourself,” Qara said fiercely. “You have to believe that it was necessary. That it stopped something worse. And even if it wasn’t, it’s the lie we’ll tell ourselves, starting today and every day afterward.”

The above quote is a good depiction of the dilemma at the core of the book. Is it permissible to do evil deeds to stop evil deeds? But that’s just part of the moral quagmire in which Rin finds herself, where a desire to protect her country merges with a quest for vengeance – both personal, and for previous genocide. There’s no denying the abilities into which she can tap are increasingly powerful, bordering on the divine. But she’s no “Mary Sue”: the cost mounts alongside them, to the point where her humanity is in danger of being entirely scorched away when she uses them.

And even if it doesn’t, the drugs necessary – both to reach the Pantheon where the gods reside, and to numb the pain of life following her awakening – won’t necessarily help Rin retain her sanity. There’s a gigantic stone prison, inside which are entombed, in a state of living hell, the thousands of previous shamans, who were driven completely insane by what they unleashed inside themselves, and had to be contained or they could destroy the world. The dangers here are very real, and only escalate the further Rin develops.

“I will die on my feet,” she said. “I will die with flames in my hand and fury in my heart. I will die fighting for the legacy of my people, rather than on Shiro’s operating table, drugged and wasted. I will not die a coward.”

Kuang has constructed a great heroine in Rin. From the very beginning, she is driven to escape a situation many would accept as hopeless, and demonstrates enormous resilience, and an utter commitment to do whatever she feels is necessary. She succeeds, not through some innate ability (hello, Harry Potter), but by working her butt off. Yet it’s that same willingness which ends up taking her, both physically and mentally, to some appalling places and experiences. The descriptions of Federation atrocities are all, apparently, backed by historical fact, matching what the Japanese did during the occupation of China in the thirties and forties. Most notably, the sacking of one city is based on the Rape of Nanking, and even a hardened soul like myself had his stomach flip on occasion. Kuang doesn’t pull her punches. There also seems to be a scientist based on the infamous Unit 731, who carried out human “experiments” on the locals.

But it’s all severe unpleasantess which is very necessary to the plot. Because it’s the only way through which Rin can justify her own reactions, and the extreme measures which she unleashes, along with the rest of the Cike [the Imperial shaman troop to which she is conscripted, and who are used to take on the Federation by unconventional means] There’s certainly no shortage of awesome-if-horrific set pieces, such as the Cike’s luring in and destruction of an enemy fleet. I’d love to see Peter Jackson or Guillermo Del Toro take on a cinematic adaptation, though the entire $200 million budget would probably end up going on digital flames…

“She was no victim of destiny. She was the last Speerly, commander of the Cike, and a shaman who called the gods to do her bidding. And she would call the gods to do such terrible things.”

The general tone is one of increasing darkness, and by the end, I was as much scared of Rin as in awe of her or concerned for her fate. About the only weakness I can think of, is that she’s rather distant and unlikable. Not exactly fun to be around, shall we say, and given some of her later acts, the term “heroine” seems dubious at best. But she’s going to need to be an ultimate, supernatural bad-ass in future volumes – not least to deal with a potentially equally-lethal shaman, who escaped from the stone prison, partly through Rin’s actions. There’s also the little matter of the Empress, who may not be the honourable subject of veneration she initially appeared to be.

It all sets up very nicely, without needing to create an artificial cliff-hander. As time permits, I definitely look forward to reading the next installment, The Dragon Republic.

Author: R.F. Kuang
Publisher: Harper Voyager, available through Amazon, both as a paperback and an e-book
1 of 3 in the Poppy War series.