Don’t Say Its Name

★★
“Snow better than mediocre.”

I was going to start this with a warning to try and avoid reading other reviews of this before watching it, because it felt as if, without exception, they all included spoilers for a significant plot-point, that wasn’t actually revealed until deep into the movie. Heck, the IMDb synopsis does it too. However, having sat through the entirety of this bland piece of indigenous folk pseudo-horror, all I can say is “Meh.” You do you: it’s probably not as if it’s going to have much impact, because it’s hard to spoil something which already smells past its best before date.

It takes place on a remote Canadian reservation, where the body of a local activist is found on a road, apparently the victim of a hit-and-run accident. Local sheriff Betty Stonechild (Walsh) is trying to investigate, with the limited resources available to her, and deputizes former soldier, now a local tracker, Stacey Cole (McArthur) to help her. It’s not long before other bodies start appearing in more mysterious circumstances. For example, a surveyor for a mining company, looking to move into the area – something to which the car victim was vehemently opposed – is brutally slain, within feet of a work colleague. He can offer no clues as to what happened, beyond reporting an odd smell and a crow circling menacingly overhead, immediately beforehand.

The problems start with the characters, where both Stonechild and Cole are right out of the box of overused tropes. The former is a single parent, trying to bring up a teenage nephew, for reasons that may have been explained, but which failed to make any impact on my recollection. The latter, worse still, is affected with the kind of PTSD common to movies, which has no effective impact on them, and appears to exist solely as an excuse for lazy writing, instead of developing a rounded personality. The rest of the players are similarly underwhelming. While the film is clearly sympathetic to the local native population, its messaging is clunky at best, reaching its worst point during what feels like a five minute YouTube rant.

The positives are mostly on the technical side, with some nice photography of chilly yet beautiful locations, and decent use of both practical and CGI effects. The two heroines have decent chemistry, and at least we don’t have any unnecessary romantic threads, for either of them: Cole’s way in particular of dealing with unwanted attentions is laudably brusque. It’s not enough to salvage a plot, which spends too long getting to where it wants to be, and isn’t particularly interesting once it gets there. It does offer one amusing moment, after they find the creature responsible and discover to their bemusement it is impervious to their bullets. Otherwise, there is precious little here to stick in the mind, and it feels more like a drama with an agenda, dressed up in genre trappings to become a sheep in wolf’s clothing

Dir: Rueben Martell
Star: Sera-Lys McArthur, Madison Walsh, Julian Black Antelope, Samuel Marty

Silent Dove

★★★
“Flips the bird at the bad guys”

While obviously cheap, and occasionally laughable, the straightforward nature of this helped it remain generally entertaining. It’s not over-burdened with unnecessary plot complexities and this gives it a clarity of focus that works to its advantage. Dove (Atkins) is an assassin for the mob, but her boss, Teddy (Mensoza) wants her and her handler father (Sanford) out of the picture. So he begins setting Dove up to fail, giving her bad intel on a job, hoping that will lead to her death. She survives the unexpected scenario, so on her next hit, Teddy “forgets” to mention the presence of a young child, whom Dove ends up shooting as well as her target. That gives Teddy the excuse he needs to unleash his dogs on her and her father. But Dove is not going to be easy to eliminate, especially after Teddy makes it considerably more personal than business.

It’s the kind of film which would be quite easy to pick apart. The relationship between Dove and her father, for example, is so scantily drawn, you wonder why they bother at all, and there is also an odd flashback sequence to Dove being tortured. Was this some kind of origin story? It’s purpose is never made clear. There are gaffes and mistakes to be found, if you try. After killing the child, Dove’s gun suddenly vanishes between shots, and later there’s a bizarre moment where she sews up a wound in her arm through a bandage. As you do…? Most of the mobsters are hardly convincing in their roles, lacking the necessary sense of threat you’d expect from them, and quite why Teddy feels so compelled to get rid of Dove, since she’s clearly more competent than any of his operatives, is not explained to any satisfactory level.

And, yet…. Probably the biggest compliment I can give this is, if I made a girls-with-guns flick, it would probably look not too dissimilar to Silent Dove. For example, the script is not lumbered with any unnecessary romantic angles. Atkins’s performance, while so low-key as arguably capable of being called flat and disinterested, somehow seems perfectly fitting for her role, capturing someone who appears to be emotionally dead inside (which may be part justification for the flashback sequence?). Though relatively long, at 105 minutes, there didn’t feel as if there was any real amount of slack, in the way of unnecessary scenes, and it has at least one memorably imaginative kill, involving a significant quantity of sulphuric acid.

The bottom line is, I was always kept watching, and was never bored, even if it was generally fairly obvious where things would end up. It more or less does, though there’s a pleasant final twist that I did appreciate. Filmed in ten days on a budget of $15,000, the makers have put the whole thing up on YouTube, and I’ve certainly seen far worse movies given away for free there.

Dir: Paul Dupree
Star: Chelsee Atkins, Johny Mendoza, Gary Brumett, Malcolm T. Sanford

V for Vengeance

★★★
“The Vampire Slayers.”

This is briskly entertaining, and feels like a female version of Blade, with an extra good-girl vampire as a bonus. Yet it’s definitely best not to pause and think about some aspects, because the story will likely fall apart under close scrutiny. Matters are complicated by a flashback-heavy structure, on occasion multiple levels deep, and an apparent desire to overstuff proceedings, at the expense of some elements. That said, it hangs together and is entertaining, mostly thanks to a likeable pair of lead performances. There is a decent quantity of hand-to-hand action, even if some of it does leave a little bit to be desired on the quality front.

Our heroines are Emma (Hudon) and Scarlett (Van Dien), sisters who were abducted from their adoptive parents, and turned into vampires by the evil Thorn. They eventually broke away from his control, and have just learned their third sibling, Kate (Dyer), is not as dead as they had long presumed her. Indeed, she has just succeeded in inventing a vaccine that can “undo” vampirism; it’s based on their mother’s research, a rare blood-type being the reason the trio were adopted. With the help of a bounty hunter called Marcus (Russell), they set out to re-unite with Kate, unaware that Thorn has similar designs on her, albeit for entirely different reasons. There’s also the Federal Vampire Control agency, who’d be more than delighted to see Thorn and/or Emma and Scarlett taken out of action.

Quite a lot of this which will be familiar if you’ve seen a reasonable number of vampire films, such as the tech’d up accessories, as well as the enhanced speed/power of the vampires. However, none of this is used to particular effect: the good old stake through the heart seems to be the most effective weapon. Similarly, the FVC seems little more than an afterthought, which plays almost no meaningful part in proceedings. Instead, this is at its best when going its own way. Emma tries only to feed on bad people, e.g. rapists, and there’s an amusing scene near the start with her increasingly less subtle efforts at entrapment falling on entirely stony ground. I’d like to have seen more of this tongue-in-cheek approach.

I did enjoy Hudon and Van Dien’s performances, which do manage to capture a real sense of sisterly love/hate. However, Marcus’s role is utterly obvious, and a later flashback shows he should definitely have been recognized by one of the siblings. Very convenient and selective amnesia is a wonderful cinematic thing, isn’t it? It’s this kind of sloppy scripting which stops this from potentially reaching the level of cult classic. The movie is nicely shot, and doesn’t look cheap, though the doubling for some of the stunts is occasionally a little too obvious. It feels as if it could have been a pilot for a series, although it’d need to find another Big Bad. A role-reversed version of Buffy, with the vampires doing the slaying, might have been fun.

Dir: Kelly Halihan
Star: Jocelyn Hudon, Grace Van Dien, Christopher Russell, Pauline Dyer

Blood and Gods, by Nathan Bueckert

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

What I’ll remember about this one is the arc. Not so much of any character, more as to whether or not this would qualify for the site. The story began on solid enough ground, but around the end of the first volume (this omnibus contains parts 1+2), it plummeted well below the threshold needed. I almost gave up reading at that point, but persisted, and the book did rebound with an extended, gory finale in which the heroine and her ally took on what felt like an entire city. Okay, it’s back in. But I’m not happy about it, for reasons I’ll get to in a bit.

The focus here is Tratalja, a city-state which rules over a wide swathe of countryside. In this world, writing is comparable to magic, and those who practice it without royal authority are subject to summary execution. This takes place at the hands of the Sceyrah, the enforcers of the ruling religion. In training to become one of them is fourteen-year-old Lilija, whose fighting skills, demonstrated in arena exhibitions, have caused her to become popular with the inhabitants – a cause of concern to her masters. 

When a tribe of barbarians, the Blood-Eaters, under their young leader Ari, sack the city, Lilija becomes the scapegoat, and narrowly escapes execution, fleeing the city to join forces with Ari. But their meeting… well, let’s just say it doesn’t go well. It was at this point I thought it was done, in terms of review purposes here. However, a new heroine arose thereafter, one possibly even more highly-skilled than Lilija, and she does manage to team up with Ari. Together, they face the threat of a high priest possessed by an evil god, with an unquenchable taste for human sacrifice. It gets a bit messy, though Book #2 does finish in a tidier way than #1. If I’d just had the latter, I’d have been annoyed.

Instead, however, there were still two significant problems. Firstly, the concept that certain people can have whatever they write, come true. It’s basically a massive get out of jail free card, which could be used as an excuse for sloppy writing. I don’t feel Bueckert necessarily does: however, it’s a questionable can of worms to open, especially when apparently done with few limitations. The other issue is the reduction of death, to something which is barely an inconvenience, little more than a spiritual time-out. After one character comes back – even if in a different physical form – then it’s hard for the reader to commit fully, to believing anyone else has ever ceased to be. I feel the story would have been significantly stronger, if other methods had been found to achieve the same plot results. While not devoid of positive elements, they aren’t what I’ll remember, and I don’t think I’ll be bothering with the second half of the series. 

Author: Nathan Bueckert (Timothy Frame)
Publisher: Black Rose Writing. available through Amazon, both as a paperback and an e-book
1+2 of 4 in the Creators Quatrain series.

Fly Like a Girl

★★★
“American girls only need apply…”

This documentary is about the field of women in aviation, combining archive footage with interviews, covering the range from those who aspire to fly (giving their Lego aircraft lady pilots!) to those who have been into space, fought combat missions in the Middle East or dodged death in aerobatic displays. There’s not any particular structure to proceedings, choosing instead to bounce around between its topics and subjects. This helps keep things fresh, yet at the cost of any narrative beyond, I guess, “Women can do anything men can”? Which, to be fair, deserves saying in the aviation field particularly: how much strength is needed to handle a joystick?

As you’d expect, the interviewees are a bit of a mixed bag. Historically, perhaps the most interesting is Bernice ‘Bee’ Haydu, who was a WASP (Women Airforce Service Pilots) in World War II, and aged almost a hundred at the time she was interviewed; sadly, she died not long after. I think what made her and the others interesting, were being the ones who had actually done something. While wanting to be an astronaut, say, is fine, it can’t compete with Nicole Stott giving an eye-witness account of what it’s actually like to be on the Space Shuttle as it takes off. Or Vernice Armor, the first African American female combat pilot and her tale of flying an attack helicopter, running down to its final missile and being the last hope for a pinned-down squad of troops. That kind of thing could easily become a Major Hollywood Movie.

I think my favourite of all the people interviewed was Patty Wagstaff, a three-time winner of the US National Aerobatic Championships, who seemed remarkably down to earth (pun intended) about her exploits. Seeing her fly upside down, to cut a ribbon with her propeller just a few feet off the ground, was genuinely impressive. On the other hand, Sen. Tammy Duckworth came over as a career politician, with career politician speak that was easy to tune out. Maybe she has stories of her time in the military that are the equal of Armor’s. You wouldn’t really know it from the bland content she contributes to this.

My main complaint, however, was the absolutely American focus. It felt as if no-one outside the United States had ever left the ground. No mention of Sophie Blanchard, the first aeronautess. No mention of British pilot Amy Johnson. No mention even of the Soviet Union’s Night Witches. They’re only the most successful group of female combat fliers in aviation history. But they’re not American, so for the purposes of this film, they don’t exist. The only meaningful reference to anywhere else, is when there’s a passing mention of Bessie Coleman having to go to France to get her pilot’s license. On that basis, it feels like a missed opportunity, only scratching the surface of its topic and wearing a large, nationalistic set of blinkers.

Dir: Katie McEntire Wiatt
Star: Nicole Stott, Tammy Duckworth, Patty Wagstaff, Vernice Armor

Fear of a Black Planet

★★
“Not everything is black and white…”

It’s interesting to look at the film’s IMDb page, and contrast the reviews, where there’s nothing less than an 8/10, with the rating, where 73% of votes are a 1/10. One “review” was actually a rant about other reviews which appear to have been removed? Something odd there. There’s no doubt, the film is not so much tackling a contentious topic, as driving head-first into it at 80 mph. Even the title (obviously inspired by the Public Enemy LP of the same name) is an incendiary one, guaranteed to raise the hackles of many – and, to be honest, not without reason, because of the assumptions it makes. It’s a shame, since the film is at least slightly more nuanced than the title makes it seem.

We’re still deep in problematic territory, however. The topic of race relations in post-Trump America is not something a 70-minute film can address in any meaningful way. While I have to admire the intent, it feels like this was doomed to fail from the get-go, and delivers only the most ham-handed of commentary. Fay (White), a newly graduated black cop, is on the way to visit her father’s grave when full-on race war breaks out. She takes shelter in the warehouse belonging to artist Nova (Kott), only to find it’s not much of a safe haven. For Nova turns out to be part of a white militia group, run by Lestor (Benton). They’ve got a van and are plotting something not very nice with it.

The issue here is the script, which has so many flaws it’s hard to pick out the worst. It’s probably Fay’s repeated failure to nope the hell out of there, despite prolific opportunities. Though the competition in this category is tough. Why does Nova let a “monkey” in to their lair, on multiple occasions? Why do the militia not permanently dispose of Fay the first chance they get? Shouldn’t they – oh, I dunno – lock the door to prevent Fay’s white boyfriend, Ric (Price), from coming in? It’s not as if civilization outside has collapsed into anarchy and utter chaos. Oh, my mistake: it supposedly has. Or maybe not immediately recruit Ric onto their team? Guess you just can’t get the white supremacists these days…

None of these have anything to do with the film’s apparent message: it’s basic storytelling. The performances are fine, and the direction occasionally impressive; the ending works better than it should. However, these aspects deserve a much better plot, and aren’t enough to salvage the endeavour as a whole. With regard to the messaging, it’s not as painfully didactic as I expected from its title, tending to let its morality flow from the situations. Though any pretense at balance is limited to a two-minute appearance by a vigilante apparently affiliated to the Black Hebrew Israelite movement, going by his multiple references to “white devils”. The reality, of course, is that 90% of people, black and white, don’t hold these kinds of extremist views. Here, 90% do, making it as much a dubious fantasy as Birth of a Nation.

Dir: Detdrich McClure
Star: Jay White, Amanda Kott, Joshua Benton, Keli Price

Infinite Storm

★★
“An uphill slog.”

The “based on a true story” label covers a broad range of cinematic outcomes. However, a general rule of thumb is, the closer a movie stays to the facts, the less interesting the result will be. On that basis, I suspect this is a true and accurate deduction of the life of Pam Bales, and one particular incident therein. Because it’s largely lacking in excitement, and worse, seems to know it. Unless you have a fondness for watching someone trudge uphill for 30 minutes, then downhill for another sixty, I’d recommend giving this a pass. Despite some attractive scenery (Slovenia standing in for New Hampshire), there’s not enough to generate the necessary amount of drama or tension.

Pam (Watts) heads out on a solo hike of Mt. Washington. While she’s an experienced hiker, and a member of the local volunteer search and rescue team, she is still not prepared for the sudden change in weather conditions that descends, engulfing her in a blizzard. Managing to extricate herself from a crevasse into which she falls, she then stumbles across another hiker (Howle), ill-outfitted for the storm, just sitting in the middle of the trail. She has to try and negotiate a way down and off the mountain for both of them, a task made harder by her new charge’s odd aversion to being rescued. He won’t tell her his actual name, forcing her to call him John by default, and at one point deliberately plunges off a precipice.

There does turn out to be a reason for this suicidal behavior, which is fair enough. Less satisfactory, is the script’s decision to give us a back-story about Pam and her children. It feels as if they think simple heroism is not something a person – in particular a woman – can simply have; there has to be some more or less buried trauma in their past, to justify their bravery. I didn’t feel this added anything of real significance to her character – and worse, I didn’t care and, to be honest, found it kinda dull. It’s as if the makers didn’t have faith in the ability of their core story to hold the viewer’s attention. Sadly, I can’t argue with them on that point.

In particular, it doesn’t offer any particular progression. This is just Pam stumbling her way about, against the environment and the elements for an hour and a half. At the end, there’s a particularly “Eh?” moment, where a caption informs us that it only takes one person to change a life, not long after Pam has declared that the universe is an infinite storm of beauty. I’m not sure how the film got there from what it depicted over the previous ninety minutes. I always say that the vastly overrated 2001, is the only journey to the outer planets, which feels like it was filmed in real-time. Along the same lines, Infinite Storm is the only mountain climbing movie I’ve seem, which feels like it was filmed in real-time 

Dir: Malgorzata Szumowska
Star: Naomi Watts, Billy Howle, Denis O’Hare, Parker Sawyers

Avarice

★★★
“An arrow-ing experience.”

I’m not 100% sure, but I suspect this may be the first film I’ve tagged as both in the “sport” and “home invasion” genres. It’s not a crossover you see every day. However, it is fair comment in this case, even if takes its own sweet time to get there. Kate Matthews (Alexy) has various bits of static in her life. Her husband, Ash (Ford), spends too much time at his Very Important job in high finance, rather than on their relationship. Daughter Susan is being a teenager. Kate just lost an archery tournament. Oh, and their house has been invaded by Reed (Nell) and her band of thugs, who are now intent on forcing Ash to transfer thirty million dollars into their offshore bank-accounts.

The early stages of this are more than a bit wobbly. We’re given no particular reason to side with Kate, whose issues seem very much of the type typically deserving the hashtag, #FirstWorldProblems. Having helped raise a teenage daughter myself, Susan’s behaviour is very much at the mild end. You have never truly parented, until you get a phone call in the middle of the night, telling you your offspring has been arrested. Slight sullenness isn’t cause for sympathy. On the other side of the coin, the villains seem to be hired for their muscles rather than their brains. More than once Kate is tied up and manages to free herself, which should surely be covered in Henching 1.0.1.

Reed is an honourable exception, being both competent and extremely ruthless: let’s just say, Kate’s family gatherings will not be the same size after this event. Once she begins to take charge, the movie shifts up a gear, and this is also around the point at which Kate’s pastime of choice begins to become relevant. To be clear, it does take about an hour for the first arrow to be fired in anger, and I was wondering, given the cover, whether this was going to be another case of archery teasing: all show and no bow. The final third does make an energetic attempt to make up for this earlier shortfall, and to quite satisfactory effect. Some of the subsequent pointy violence is rather effective.

This is especially the case when Kate, for justifiable reasons (again: think smaller family gatherings…) decides to take the fight to the invaders, and goes into the warehouse from which they are operating. While a bit contrived, this provides a fine location for a spot of stalk ‘n’ shoot, as she picks off the minions one at a time. If you’re hoping this is going eventually to lead to a battle between her and Reed, you will not be disappointed, and it goes to prove that a bow and arrow can be just as effective in close combat, if you are prepared to adapt. Mind you, I’d have dumped Ash’s sorry ass, since he proves to be less than useless. That’s just me though.

Dir: John V. Soto
Star: Gillian Alexy, Luke Ford, Alexandra Nell, Ryan Panizza

Reign of Chaos


“Future schlock.”

There are spells where I find myself going through a stream of mediocre movies, wondering when I’ll see something genuinely good. Then, I stumble into the likes of this, which leaves me yearning for the heady delights of mediocrity. It was in trouble right from the start, with five minutes of opening voice-over that did nothing but leave me confused. Then again, if your story requires five minutes of opening voice-over in the first place, you should probably rethink your storytelling techniques. The same could be said for a post-apocalyptic scenario in which food is in short supply, yet black pleather cat-suits are apparently easily available, in a range of sizes to fit all needs.

A plague has swept the land, turning the bulk of the population into flesh-eating “Joiners”. That is not the worst of it. For it turns out, Chaos is harvesting souls to usher in an unending period of unimaginable torment. Perhaps one where pleather cat-suits might be slightly difficult to come by. Humanity’s sole hope is the three descendants of the Greek goddess Nike: Nicole (Finch), Lindsay (Wood), and Alina (Di Tuccio). They are brought together under the tutelage of Rhodri (Cosgrove), trained in the arts of battle and sent off to face Chaos in their pleather cat-suits. He turns out to be a pasty-faced baldie, like Voldemort with a nose, though the final battle is so underwhelming you may wonder if the final reel went missing.

Let me be clear: there is hardly an element of this which reaches even the level of semi-competent. The most obvious flaw is a world, supposedly collapsed into anarchy and… dare I say it, Chaos, which looks utterly indistinguishable from our current one. Lawns are well-maintained, there is not a broken window is to be seen, and the neighbourhood even has a well-stocked boxing gym open. It’s truly the least convincing apocalypse ever. Into this fit our trio of heroines, who are, similarly, the least convincing saviours of the world ever. Their combat skills are negligible, and I have to assume they were cast solely for their ability to wear a pleather cat-suit (something I allow they do better than I could). Admittedly, their performances are not exactly helped by having to deliver laughable lines, such as, “Goddess power, bitch!”

The above is written as someone who has watched and, indeed, made his fair share of poverty-row cinema. The number one rule of this is: just because you can write it on the page, does not mean you can film it. You need to be permanently aware of the limitations which your lack of resources impose, and operate within them. The makers here seem to have no such idea, writing their way into a corner which a hundred times their budget would have struggled to escape. Ambition is laudable. This instead plays like a child in a cardboard box making “Vroom! Vroom!” sounds, and does not a Ferrari make.

Dir: Rebecca Matthews
Star: Rebecca Finch, Rita Di Tuccio, Georgia Wood, Peter Cosgrove

Real Dangerous People, by K. W. Jeter

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

This gritty and action-packed series was originally marketed in seven volumes. The new edition condenses that to four, by combining the first six into three and designating each component in the pair as either Part 1 or Part 2, the original title of each Part 1 serving as the new book title for both. So this book counts as two series installments. That’s a felicitous arrangement, because installments 1-2 (now paired as Real Dangerous Girl) and 3-4 here both fit together nicely as two self-contained two-part story arcs, each featuring protagonist/narrator Kim but centering on a different challenge each time, that starts in Part 1 and finds its resolution in Part 2. But the books should be read in order; here, references are made to persons and events from the prior installments, and in order to fully understand who Kim and her wheelchair-bound kid brother Donnie are, their situation, and the development of her character, you really need to have read the preceding part of the canon. Warning: this review will contain “spoilers” for the previous book(s).

As I’d deduced and mentioned in my review of installment 1 (I read and wrote about the first two as separate books: what is now Real Dangerous Girl Part 1 and Part 2), the setting is an unnamed city in western New York state. It’s not named here either; but references to docks and ocean-going commerce point to Rochester, which is on Lake Ontario and can access the Atlantic via the St. Lawrence River. Several months have passed since the end of the previous book; it’s now winter. One reference suggests that Kim’s still 17; but she has to be getting pretty close to 18. (A credibility problem with the series is that it’s hard to fit all of her backstory into 17 years.) We’re not actually brought up to speed on the intervening events until Chapter 3, and Kim’s wry description of her new line of work as “killing people” might give the idea that she’s been working as an assassin. She hasn’t –but she has opted to make her living with her .357 rather than her calculator; and as she recognizes, the possibility of lethal violence is always present, especially given the sort of people who’ll employ her.

At Cole’s funeral, a meeting with Curt, an old acquaintance of his that he’d recommended her to, led to a three-month gig in “security” for one Mr. Falcone, another mobster like her former employer, who now prefers to be called Mr. Falcon since he’s looking to shed his Mafia image; also like the late Mr. McIntyre, he’s moving to position himself as more plausibly “legitimate.” (So “security” work for him involves dealing with his double-crossing employees, and attacks by thugs working for his equally shady rivals.) Near the beginning of this book, she’s invited to join his personal bodyguard team, where a sudden vacancy has opened up. But the way it opened up isn’t encouraging…. Since there are a couple of more books in the series, we know that our girl’s going to make it home at the end of the day. But she doesn’t have any such assurance, and the chances of this job ending with a tag on her toe look pretty real. She needs the money, though, since failing to provide for Donnie isn’t an option she’ll accept; and she’s about to face another unexpected existential threat to her little family unit, from a totally different quarter.

As noted above, Kim’s character is developing, and not always in ways that please her. (In fact, some developments concern and scare her.) The criminal underworld she originally entered unwittingly when she landed a job with McIntyre’s now defunct organization has become pretty much her default environment. That’s partly because no legitimate business will hire her as an accountant with no formal credentialling, even if she’s good at it, but also because, though she doesn’t like to admit it to herself, at one level she thrives on the excitement, empowerment and adrenaline rush of life in warrior mode; and she takes fierce pride in being equally good at that. Thanks to Cole’s training, she’s a very accurate, quick-reflexed markswoman, and strong and agile despite her petite stature. (And she can now kill without batting an eye –though that’s a development she fully realizes is problematical.) This career choice puts her on a tightrope between the demands of her job and her moral instincts; the tension of walking it can make her cry and vomit at times. Shades of grey often define her alternatives; there’s a lot of food for thought here in terms of moral reflection, as there often is in this genre. That’s implicit in the story, though, not embodied in explicit struggles in Kim’s mind; survival generally dictates her choices, and the one here that many readers will most intensely disagree with and disapprove of is one she makes instantly and without having to agonize over at all. (Having a family of my own, I totally understand why she doesn’t have to.)

There’s no sex, licit or illicit, in this book (or the prior installments). Kim’s not without interest in sex; but like most teens, she sees herself as unattractive. She’s never pursued a relationship, and she’s taken to heart Cole’s advice that the best option for a hired gun is celibacy. (Though given that he was in a long-term relationship with a live-in girlfriend, he failed to practice what he preached.) Compared to the prior installments, there’s an increase in bad language here, including some use of the f-word and religious profanity, though Jeter’s use of it is still restrained compared to many writers who depict this milieu. (Kim’s own language isn’t as bad as that of her colleagues, though if I were her dad I’d still call her on some of it.) In fairness, given the kind of characters we’re dealing with, the language isn’t unrealistic. Violence comes with this territory; several people here exit the world with bullets in their bodies (some of them by Kim’s hand). But none of them are particularly nice people who would elicit any tears from the average reader; I can safely promise that “no innocents were harmed in the writing of this book.” :-)

In terms of literary quality, this is a highly gripping and emotionally evocative read, and a fast-paced one. Depiction of well-drawn, nuanced characters is one of the author’s strengths; Kim herself is a vital bundle of three-dimensioned nuance, but all of the cast here come to life. (Most aren’t especially likable, except for Donnie and Mae, but I do like Kim and root for her, despite her rough edges; Jeter lets me understand where she’s coming from, and her narrative voice makes me empathize with her.) There’s also more of a mystery element here than in the previous story arc, though I still classify this as action-adventure rather than mystery. It has to be said, though, that this book isn’t as well crafted as the preceding. There are editorial issues, some minor. but several more serious. In places details, plot elements and conversations are inconsistent with things written before, which can fray (though not break) the thread of the plot. (The worst of these is where a character dies in one chapter, but reappears alive in the next one!) That cost the book a star; but I’d still recommend it to all readers of the first book (though not as the starting point for the series). And I most definitely intend to follow the series to its completion!

Author: K. W. Jeter
Publisher: Lincoln Square Books; available through Amazon, both for Kindle and as a printed book.
Book 2 of 4 in the Kim Oh series, containing previously available titles Real Dangerous People and Real Dangerous Place.
A version of this review previously appeared on Goodreads.