Month: October 2025

Helsing: Demon Slayer, by Liane Zane

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

Full disclosure at the outset: the author kindly donated me a paperback copy of this book in return for an honest review.

In the climactic novel of the author’s Elioud Legacy trilogy, The Draka and the Giant, former U.S. Army Ranger Ryan Helsing, a decorated and physically formidable veteran of the fighting in Iraq and Afghanistan, was introduced as a relatively minor character (I didn’t remember him until I read this book; it’s been a couple of years since I finished reading the trilogy). And as I recall from the prequel series, Unsanctioned Guardians, it was mentioned in the first book there, The Covert Guardian, that title character (and major figure in both series) Olivia Markham had a younger sister. These two people serve as co-protagonists of this new novel, intended as the opening volume of The Dragon’s Paladins, a projected spin-off series from the original trilogy.

As reader’s of the latter know, Zane’s premise is that, from antediluvian times on down to the present, there have been some sub rosa matings between angels (mostly fallen ones, but occasionally celestial ones as well) and humans, and that the children of these unions walk among us, sometimes aware of their heritage, sometimes not. These Elioud have (latent, or more developed) super-human abilities from their angelic genes; and in the ongoing cosmic strife between God and Satan, they may be knowingly enlisted on one side or the other, or just imagine that they can ignore spiritual realities and be neutral. (This premise is taken for granted in the present novel, which should definitely be read after at least the original trilogy, if not necessarily the prequel; the reader needs that to fully understand the situation and to really know some of the important characters.)

Our main setting is the Balkans, in the very near future, about six months after the final events of the Draka and the Giant. Dianne Markham is now a 29-year-old “social media marketing consultant” (and yes, that’s an actual job). Secular-minded and not very close to her sister, in the past she’s been something of a playgirl type, and cultivated a loose lifestyle along that line; but more recently, she’s been aware of her biological clock ticking, and been feeling (and even acting on) some impulses towards a more serious and mature outlook and more responsible behavior. She has no clue about her family’s bloodlines, or that Olivia and her husband, Mihail Kastrioti, are two of the Archangel Michael’s top warriors and commanders.

But they are; and Olivia, warned of danger by her “spidey sense” (which we’ve come to recognize as Divine prompting) is taking measures to gather her birth family into the relatively greater safety of the Kastrioti fortress compound in the Albanian mountains. When we first meet Dianne, she’s on an Adriatic cruise, now winding down, with a bevy of her shallow “friends” (though Germaine Grimes is one she reckons as an actual friend). However, Olivia has sent our title character to secretly watch over her sister on the voyage, and to bring her to Olivia as soon as they dock in the Croatian port city of Split. That may be a long and dangerous trip (especially after the registering of the largest EMP phenomenon in history), and their interpersonal dynamics may get interesting….

In its stylistic and other qualities, this book has a lot of the same trademark characteristics the author displays in her six preceding books. Narration is in third-person, past tense; the H/h alternate as viewpoint characters, with occasional scenes from other viewpoints as needed. While this is definitely in the supernatural fiction genre, centering on combat between demons and demi-angels and their human pawns or allies, much of it also reads like descriptive fiction action-adventure or an espionage thriller (and Zane’s prequel trilogy actually is in the latter genre). This entails a lot of physical action and use of high-tech weaponry and communications. The development of nanotechnology here, and its tie-ins with “harmonics,” the energy frequencies underlying all reality and all living things, including people, which angels and their descendants can perceive but ordinary humans usually can’t, is in the realm of the science-fictional (and probably already was in at least the last two books of the first trilogy, though my knowledge of nanotechnology isn’t great enough that I could tell that on my first reading).

Zane sets a very brisk narrative pace, with a gripping intensity that makes this a real page-turner (I read it in less than two weeks, despite the 353-page length, which is fairly quick for me; and I always hated to put it down when I had to.) As in all of her work, she displays a detailed grasp of the settings and real-life locations, derived partly from Internet research and partly from her own travels. Given the cover art, it’s no surprise that Ryan Helsing is a highly capable action-hero; Dianne (who’s depicted on the back cover, but just with her face) doesn’t start out combat-trained, but she’s got guts and determination, and grows naturally into an action-heroine role. Both characters are developed well, in three-dimensional fashion. Their romance (that’s not a spoiler –Zane’s imprint is Zephon Romance, after all!) develops very quickly, but being thrown together closely and continuously under mortally dangerous and stressful conditions that demand constructive responses will bring out people’s mettle very quickly, and make it both easy and natural to assess and appreciate personal worth in a comrade-in-arms. Romance enhances the story and is a big part of it, but doesn’t swallow it whole.

Demonic possession of humans is taken seriously in the New Testament as an actual reality (borne out in other nonfiction literature on the subject), but the biblical writers don’t present us with a detailed theology of it. It’s a major plot element here; but here (as in some of the other books), how it works is a bit murky, and that’s probably my major quibble here. It’s sometimes suggested, plausibly, that the possessed are usually willing vessels of evil, or that all those outside the actual protection of Christ through faith are under some risk for it (and there are New Testament texts that could indicate that). But we also have a case of apparent possession of a human who doesn’t fall in those categories; and just as the St. Michael medals worn by some good characters here and in the other books have protective qualities, the demonically-cursed physical talismans here worn by some characters exert a malevolent spiritual influence.

Related to this, although like all of the author’s books, this one has a strong good vs. evil orientation which is explicitly understood in Christian terms of God vs. Satan, there’s not a strong note of necessary personal decision to repent of self-will and turn to Christ in salvation. (Granted, Christian conversion is typically a gradual process of internal changes in response to moral and spiritual influence; but there does come a distinct tipping point in which personal loyalty flips Christ’s way. We don’t get a real sense of that here; Dianne starts out as essentially a heathen, albeit one who’s having a bit of a moral awakening; but insofar as she changes spiritually, the change appears to be more about her relationship to Ryan than to Christ.)

Some of this is probably influenced by the author’s Roman Catholic faith, though none of her books harp on denominational distinctives; Catholic (and Orthodox) sacramental theology attributes real spiritual influence to physical objects or actions, where other Christian believers wouldn’t go that far, and the former traditions place less stress on an actual, real-time decision for Christian conversion. (Many Christians, myself included, also wouldn’t consider the whole idea of modern-day demi-angels fighting physical battles against demons as really plausible; but it has to be recognized that the author isn’t necessarily claiming that it is. We should just regard the premise here as a fictional literary conceit that serves metaphorical functions, or allows the author to spin an imaginative story, not as a serious theological treatise.) It could also be argued that the climactic resolution of the conflict is too easy, though I didn’t consider that a serious flaw.

Even though both Ryan and Dianne use a certain amount of bad language (realistically, given their backgrounds) there’s no profane abuse of divine names nor actual f-word use here, and there’s also no explicit nor implied sex. (There’s no doubt that our H and h are strongly attracted to each other physically, but there’s also a sense that the attraction is also, and more importantly, to each other’s qualities of character.) Like the original trilogy, this can be recommended to readers who like clean romance (if they don’t mind what movie reviewers –and this would make a great movie!– would call “some sensuality”) and those who like action adventure, both male and female. It can also appeal to supernatural fiction readers who like the angels vs. demons theme, but the appeal wouldn’t be confined to Catholic (or general Christian) readers; I think many secular readers could enjoy it as well.

Author: Liane Zane
Publisher: Zephon Romance, available from Amazon, both for Kindle and as a printed book.
A version of this review previously appeared on Goodreads.

Torment

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★½
“Car trouble.”

I’m tempted to be very snarky, say something like “The torment here is entirely on the viewer’s end” and make that the totality of the review. However, that’s a dangerous precedent, one I don’t want to set. Before long, I’d be phoning it in, and churning out nothing but single sentence reviews. I would instead spend my time sitting on the couch, eating Doritos and scrolling idly on my phone, before dying prematurely of a heart attack, and turning Chris into a grieving cat lady. Do you want that to happen, Torment? Do you, really? However, it probably does say something that such morbid speculation is still considerably more fun than either watching or writing about this. 

It’s one of those films where the time-line is jumbled up. This kind of script requires a lot of writing rigour to work, and Leone doesn’t have it at all. Though I already had a sinking feeling with an opening title sequence which looks like it was made on Windows Movie Maker. And not a current version, either. We begin with a woman picking up another women off the side of the road, and the title card. We then get a woman leaving her apartment, walking down to the car-park, getting in her vehicle. She drives around. Fills it up with petrol. Drives around some more. Parks in a different parking structure. We’re eight minutes into a 73-minute film, and I am already checking out.

Turns out there’s someone locked in the trunk. Though do not make the mistake of thinking it’s the woman picked up at the beginning. Dear me, no. That sequence turns out to be the opener for the final part of the film, a bit of stalking of the hitch-hiker through the woods. It gives the strong impression of having been tacked on as emergency filler, after the sudden realization they had done with the main plot, and only had 55 minutes of material. That is mostly to do with the woman in the trunk, who is radio host Elaine Margo (Bird). She has been kidnapped by the mysterious driver (Cay), because… Uncertain. Elaine obviously has murderous secrets of her own, but how they impact her abductor is never adequately explained.

Instead, there’s a lot of driving. Which I get. it’s clear there wasn’t much money here, so the makers went with a concept that requires few locations, and a very small cast. But it doesn’t help that the two leads are similar in appearance, so when we get scenes outside the car, it’s often unclear who is involved in them. This is just another misstep in a movie which seems compulsively drawn to making them. You’ll reach the end – which is really the beginning – and will likely feel nothing more than bemused irritation at best. It almost made a nihilist out of me, because I was left questioning the point of this film’s existence, as well as my own.

Dir: Anthony Leone
Star: Amy Cay, Paisley Bird, Isabella Giardini, JD Isabelle

Buried in Barstow

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★★★
“Cliffhanger in California.”

Before we go any further, you need to know one thing: do not expect complete resolution. This literally ends with “To be continued…” One of the major plot threads is wrapped up. But another remains largely unresolved, and the final few minutes start off another, almost entirely new one. The original intent was for this to be the first in a series of made for Lifetime movies. But since this came out in June 2022, no further installments have appeared. Instead, you get something which is so abrupt, I started to look and see if the copy I was watching had failed to download completely. It’s unfortunate, because until then, it might be the best Lifetime TVM I’ve seen.

That begins with an opening caption: “This program contains strong violence. Viewer discretion is advised.” Ok, we are still talking about strong violence… by the standards of Lifetime TV movies. Do not expect founts of arterial spray and disembowelment. But it does mean that when someone gets their nose broken, there will be some blood. It’s surprising how a little helps there. The nose-breaking is delivered by Hazel King (Harmon), a single mother who runs a diner on the road to Las Vegas, and is fiercely protective of daughter Joy (Richards). So when Joy’s scuzzy boyfriend gives her a black eye, she isn’t standing for that. Or, as she puts it, “He raises a fist, I raise a gun.” Scuzzy boyfriend subsequently vanishes. 

Because, it turns out, Hazel is not just a momma bear, but a former mob assassin, who quit the job years ago. Of course, it isn’t that simple, and eventually her old boss, Von, comes calling. This being a Lifetime TVM, there is inevitably a romantic interest, in the shape of hunky dishwasher (!) and former heart surgeon (!!) Elliott (Polaha). However, this turns out not just to be purely for the obligatory sucking of face. Indeed, it’s integrated with surprising grace, tying in to Joy’s previous, but eventually discarded, ambitions in the medical field. Really, up until the final moments, this was almost indistinguishable from a “real” movie, in terms of plotting. Harmon’s performance, too, is polished and effective.

Never more so than when she’s going after scuzzy boyfriend, where there’s a genuine degree of intensity which I did not expect. I was entirely convinced she was both capable of murdering him, and had every intention of doing so. This all unfolds inside the first twenty minutes and, while we don’t get anything quite as effective thereafter, it makes an excellent impression, and establishes a great deal about Hazel as a character. It’s a real pity that we are now approaching four years since the broadcast of the film in June 2022, and there has not even been a peep about a follow-up. It’s a shame – both in terms of the concept not being developed to its potential, and because this, on its own, deserves to have received a better ending. 

Dir: Howard Deutch
Star: Angie Harmon, Lauren Ashley Richards, Kristoffer Polaha, George Paez

Tornado

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★★½
“That’s my father’s sword. Put it down.”

It’s a samurai film. Except, it’s a Western. Only, it’s one which takes place in Scotland. I trust that’s cleared up any confusion here. However, you will still need to manage your expectations, because based on both the poster and the trailer, it would be easy to go in expecting something action-packed. It is not. At all. That element is heavily back-loaded, to the final fifteen minutes. It does include one of the more imaginative and splattery kills I’ve seen this year. Probably a bonus half-star for that alone. However, it’s more a movie about mood, atmosphere and scenery than arterial spray. But I lived in Scotland. I already know it’s pretty.

This unfolds at almost the very end of the 18th century, when Fujin (Hira) and his daughter Tornado (Kōki) are taking their samurai puppet show around the Scottish lowlands. She comes into possession of some gold, which has been stolen from a church by a gang, led by Sugarman (Roth) and his son, Little Sugar (Lowden). They’re not happy, and pursue the caravan in which she’s travelling with her father. This leads to a confrontation in which Fujin is killed, albeit not before badly wounding Sugarman. Tornado flees into the forest, to regroup, and eventually plot her revenge against the robber and his pals, using the skills taught to her, to pick them off one by one on her way to the inevitable final confrontation with Sugarman. 

I respect what this is trying to do, and it’s certainly a combination of genres and settings which I had not seen before. Unfortunately, the execution is plagued with a number of missteps, which hamper the end results and negate many of the positive elements. Right from the start, we are thrown into the middle of things, with Tornado running from Sugarman and his henchmen. The film is curiously reluctant to tell us what is going on – or, more importantly, why we should care – being too leisurely to fill in the blanks. There’s also a cut-out between the gang and Tornado, in the shape of a kid who actually carried out the initial theft. Beyond giving the heroine ‘clean hands’, it’s an unnecessary complication. 

On the performance side, Roth is good value as ever in a villainous role: I was inevitably reminded of Rob Roy, where he previously played the bad guy in 18th-century Scotland. Kōki has rather more experience as a model than an actress, and director MacLean wisely keeps the need for actual dramatics to a minimum, opting to make her the stoic samurai type, so she’s good enough. It all looks quite lovely, so while you are waiting around for something much to happen – which will be the majority of the hour and a half – you can admire the cinematography and picturesque Scottish landscapes. It wasn’t quite enough for me. While possible to admire the intent, this is likely a case of “It’s not you, it’s me.” 

Dir: John Maclean
Star: Kōki, Tim Roth, Takehiro Hira, Jack Lowden

Woman at War

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★★★★
“Feel the electricity in the air.”

This was a real and pleasant surprise. I wasn’t even sure if this would qualify for the site, or if it would end simply being too gentle. Whole it’s not going to get any awards for hard-core action, it does fit in here. More impressively, it managed to make my empathize with someone whose views are ones I’d generally disagree with. It takes place in Iceland, where Halla (Geirharðsdóttir) is a middle-aged, single woman, waging a near one-person campaign of sabotage against heavy industry, mostly by disabling the power-lines which supply electricity to it, disfiguring the landscape and exacerbating climate change. It’s a game of cat and mouse, with the authorities keen to stop the eco-terrorist from dissuading foreign investors.

However, Halla has issues of her own, beyond the net closing in on her property destruction. A long-dormant adoption request is suddenly approved, and she can’t risk further criminal acts, as a conviction would bar her from proceeding. She intends to go out with a declaration of her manifesto, literally flung from the Reykjavik roof-tops, and a final act, stealing Semtex to blow up a key electricity pylon. Her accomplice, government employee Baldvin (Ragnarsson) is increasingly concerned about the “one last job” trope, and twin sister Ása (also Geirharðsdóttir), a yoga teacher, threatens to put a spoke in the adoption process too, by vanishing off to India for two years to live with her guru.

It’s charming, quirky and rather subversive, all at the same time. It could easily have toppled over into preachiness, but is leavened with enough humour to keep the messaging secondary to the medium. For example, there’s a poor Spanish tourist (Estrada), who is perpetually getting blamed for the attacks, simply by being in the wrong place at the wrong time, leading to his tent getting SWATted. There’s also the soundtrack, which shows up on screen as a three-piece band, and a trio of singers, who play whatever music is needed to accompany the scenes. Every character is a pleasure, not least the farmer (Johanson) who becomes Halla’s leading accomplice. I will say, any wannabe eco-warriors might well get some helpful tips here, such as the best place to hide your explosives…

But it’s Geirharðsdóttir’s film, in both of her roles. She has a quiet yet absolute commitment to her cause, and it’s thoroughly convincing, even to someone like me who thinks “Earth First” means, “We can strip-mine the other planets later.” I still found myself rooting for her, as she scurried across the Icelandic moors, using low-tech means to counter the authorities with their drones and thermal imaging cameras. For what’s as much a comedic drama as anything, these sequences pack their share of tension, and I was left wondering how it would get resolved. It is a bit of a cheat – are the Icelandic authorities that incompetent? I’ll let it pass, since this demonstrates the way message movies should be executed.

Dir: Benedikt Erlingsson
Star: Halldóra Geirharðsdóttir, Jon Johanson, Juan Camilo Román Estrada, Jörundur Ragnarsson

[A modified version of this review first appeared on Film Blitz]

Blood Star

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★★
“Neither protecting nor serving.”

I get the idea of what this is trying to do: really, be a female-centric version of The Hitcher. Though to some extent, that franchise went there itself, in The Hitcher II: I’ve Been Waiting. Here, we have Bobbi Torres (Camacho) driving across New Mexico in her sweet muscle car, and when she stops for fuel, has an awkward encounter with Sheriff Bilstein (Schwab). Things get worse when she gets back on the road, and is quickly pulled over by the officer for speeding, which gets her a thousand dollar ticket she is unable to pay. Thanks to a prologue, we know Bilstein has a psychopathic fondness for tormenting and killing young women. This ain’t gonna end well.

It is one of those films where you can tell whether someone is good or evil by their genital configuration. Every man Bobbi meets is evil; every woman we see is part of an unspoken sisterhood. I sense the aim was some kind of riot grrrl agenda, but it manifests itself in some spectacularly clunky ways. There’s one conversation which is especially cringey, Bobbi trading abuse stories with a diner waitress, Amy (Brumfield). It ends in a manner that is clearly intended to be shocking, but I was more relieved the pair had simply stopped spitting out clichés. And I am fairly sure that getting jabbed with a syringe does not typically result in instinct heroin addiction, as alleged here. 

Nor does it help that Bobbi isn’t very likeable, the script mistaking smart-ass and mouthy as endearing. Schwab does better as the authority figure, exuding menace with every sentence. Though despite sharing a fondness for toying with his victim, the Sheriff is inevitably nowhere near as memorable as Rutger Hauer’s mythical road warrior. The agenda here is less interesting as well: I’ve seen a few reviews which compare this to the Wolf Creek movie, and I’d not argue – in part because I didn’t like that Australian road-slasher very much either [the TV series, however, is worth a look] The scales here are tipped considerably in favour of torture porn (albeit more mental than physical), with the inevitable explosion of Bobbi limited to the final fifteen minutes. 

There are some positives to be found, such as the impressively sparse desert landscapes (looks like California played the part of New Mexico), and Bobbi’s car, a 1977 Ford Mustang, which arguably has more personality than its driver. There’s a plot point established about it having a balky starter motor, but I don’t recall this being as crucial as I expected. I did like the sense anyone could die at any time, with a couple of deaths out of nowhere. It needs a heroine who is considerably more aggressive, except verbally, in the first half. Bobbi ends up being too passive for too long in the face of the Sheriff’s obvious threat, which belies the strong, confident woman the script wants her to be.

Dir: Lawrence Jacomelli
Star: Britni Camacho, John Schwab, Sydney Brumfield, Travis Lincoln Cox

Parse Galaxy Omnibus, Volume 1 by Kate Sheeran Swed

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

Sloane Tarnish is not exactly your typical bounty-hunter. Indeed, she’s training for a medical degree when her shady uncle, Vin, talks her into helping out with a little job. Craving excitement, she agrees, and finds herself posing as the wife of a Fleet officer, seeking to intercept a data key with potentially very explosive information on it. A year later, Vin’s ship turns up without him on it, and she finds herself the new captain, leading the crew as they try to figure out where Vin has gone, and why he vanished. To fund this search, Sloane takes up the bounty-hunting mantle.

Given this is an eight-volume series (not including the prequel which forms part of this set), it’s no spoiler to say, this does not end with our heroine being re-united with Uncle Vin. But if that does not happen, quite a lot else does. Sloane gets embroiled in a fight for power between the two major forces in her part of the galaxy. There’s the Galactic Fleet, who keep the peace, and the Cosmic Trade Federation, who run commerce. But the Fleet appear to be attempting to consolidate power in their hands, and the data key Vin liberated may contain incriminating evidence to prove that. Or it may not. But a lot of people are very interested in Sloane’s efforts to locate it and her uncle.

Among them are Commander of the Galactic Fleet, Gareth Fortune. He’s the man from whom she took the data key in the prequel, but he becomes rather more sympathetic to her over the following two volumes. Fortune has problems of his own, because he is being set up as the man in charge of the planned galactic coup. To prove his innocence, needs Sloane to find proof of the real perpetrator. On the other hand, there is Federation Coordinator Striker, whose enmity towards Sloane is considerably more persistent. Especially after she rejects his offer of work, then turns around and employs the bounty target she was supposed to be delivering to him.

This appears to be on permanent offer as a Kindle freebie, and you certainly can’t complain about that price. Despite the prequel, it still feels like I was missing some information. For example, Sloane has apparently been outside this galaxy – to our one, for she brought back coffee to hers! However, this should not get in the way of the main plot which, although unresolved, is decent, and ends without excessive cliff-hangers. I liked the occasional moments of dry humour, and the heroine is a likable sort, if perhaps a little more passive than I would have expected. The burgeoning romance between her and Fortune is a little obvious too. It still made for a pleasant enough read, and I could see myself dipping deeper into the series, if my unread pile were not its inevitable self.

Author: Kate Sheeran Swed
Publisher: Spells & Spaceships Press, available through Amazon, both as a paperback and an e-book
Collects Books 0-2 of 8 in the Parse Galaxy series.

The Viking Sisters

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★★★
“The reputation never dies.”

I must admit, my initial reaction to this was, it is less than a film, than footage from a group of Viking LARPers (Live-action Role-playing). The resources on view here are… not great. But the deeper I went into this, the more I found myself able to forgive the limited budget, and began to appreciate the story it was telling, and the characters inhabiting it. Oh, there are still major problems, such as in the “battle scenes”. And I use quotes there, since the count of participants there feels like it might reach… eight, if we’re being charitable. But when it wasn’t making ill-advised efforts to be epic in scale, I ended up enjoying this, and subsequently bought the Blu-ray. 

It’s the third part in the ‘Old Gods’ trilogy. I haven’t seen the first two, and didn’t even know they existed until I started the review, so it clearly didn’t impact my enjoyment too much. As you’d expect, it takes place during the time when the Vikings ruled Norway. Sisters Snöfrid (Engman) and Vitstjärna grew up together, but have since separated. Snöfrid has the second sight, and has been both feared and shunned as a witch, while Vitstjärna’s talents were more physical, causing her to become an outlaw. But she kills the king’s son during one of those battle scenes. The enraged (and more than slightly mad) queen Gunhild (Ekholm) captures Snöfrid’s husband, and says he will be executed if Snöfrid doesn’t find and kill her sister.

Thus begins a trek through some starkly beautiful landscapes, and I respect the work the makers put in to try and create an authentic historical experience. For example, “The old Norse spoken in the film uses reconstructed pronunciation as opposed to modern Icelandic pronunciation which is common in media.” Could I have told the difference? No. I still appreciate the effort, and found myself being immersed in the culture. Snöfrid ends up joining a group of rather sketchy Vikings, who are on their way to Iceland, and has to keep all her wits about her in their company. But it’s when she meets her sister that the film bursts into life, their scenes together being dramatic enough to give me pause.

It’s perhaps not as action-oriented as I expected, especially after Vitstjärna parts ways from Snöfrid. I still feel it qualifies here, despite an ending which had me scratching my head in a fair degree of uncertainty. Without revealing too much, it feels like the film is pointing in a vengeful direction, yet decides to take a more mystical one instead, rather than committing to a conclusion. It still works, and is another case where the film chose to zig instead of zag, bypassing the expected route. Finally, I can’t complain too much, about any film which adds another swear-word to the top drawer of my cursing lexicon. I’m not sure when I’ll ever get to use the phrase “troll-c*nt”, but I vow I’m going to get there eventually!

Dir: Viking Almquist
Star: Karin Engman, Eliza Sica, Sofia Ekholm, Oliver Burenfjäll

Zero Hour

  By

★½
“It’s certainly an hour.”

Not to be confused, in any way, with Zero Hour!, the 1957 Canadian film which was spoofed mercilessly in Airplane! This unfolds mostly over one night in a high-rise, where Ida (Hoover) is the last person left in the building, having taken over from best friend Katrina (Dumont). She finds herself being harassed by a pair of masked figures, and simultaneously receiving messages on her phone and computer from her husband, Isaac (Groetsch). Which is perhaps even more disturbing to her, because Isaac was killed in the home invasion which opens the movie. So what’s going on? Has he become a ghost in the machine? Do they have cellphones in the afterlife? Or is there a more prosaic explanation?

According to what Isaac tells her, the people hunting her through the building are also those responsible for his death. The obvious question is why, and it’s in providing the answers that the script (also by Groetsch) falls apart. After the heroine has been chased through the building, eventually ending up in a roof-top confrontation, we get the first of a number of twists, and… Put it this way: I have questions. Lots of questions. Out of respect for the film-makers, I won’t spoiler it, because this is clearly a big part of the film. However, I don’t feel it makes very much sense, because the conspiracy required would need to extend far further than the handful of people shown as involved.

While you are still going, “Hang on, what about…” there, the film lobs another twist at you, then a third as we flashback to Ida and Katrina’s earlier conversation in a bar, which brings in Allison (Durham). After the credits, there’s even another scene which could be a fourth twist, I dunno. Or it might be Groetsch simply wanting to get in another drone shot. I remember my first drone shot. It was in a movie called Berkshire County in 2014, and was amazing at the time. Now? It’s very easy to overuse them, and Groetsch does just that here. He’s clearly going for a fluid style of camera, with it always on the move. But there has to be a point to them. Here, not so much.

This barely runs an hour between opening and closing credits (or, perhaps more accurately, opening and closing drone shots). That’s likely a wise decision, considering how much of this is Ida staring at her phone – and Goetsch needs to learn how to shoot text messages. I will say, I didn’t hate Hoover, who is fairly sympathetic, and does what she can with material which feels more like a rough draft of an idea, and in great need of external critical input. According to his IMDb, Groetsch has no fewer than eleven other films in various stages of pre-production (though some haven’t been updated since 2017 or earlier). The only way to get better is to make more movies. I hope he does.

Dir: Justin Groetsch
Star: Mikaela Hoover, Sarah Dumont, Justin Groetsch, Carrington Brooke Durham

Pacific Fear

  By

★★½
“Surfing birds.”

At the beginning of this, I wondered if I was watching a Godzilla film. Because it opens with atomic bomb footage, depicting French test in the Pacific. We know what this leads to: gigantic lizards with fiery bre… Oh, hang on: it’s actually a group of women, looking for a place reputed to have particularly gnarly (if my knowledge of beach-speak doesn’t fail me, and it probably does) waves. There are three surfers, plus photographer Sarah (Galloy), who has been out of the game since an accident which wrecked her confidence. The island they find isn’t on any map, so it must be good, and not a death-trap waiting to happen to them. Right?

The problems occur when they stumble across a maraé, a sacred site to the locals (giving the film is alternate title). One of the women has native ancestry, so conveniently knows about this, and why disturbing it would be a Very Bad Idea Indeed. Guess who doesn’t listen? That’d be another of the women. Their next surfing session is interrupted by a hungry shark, and when the survivors struggle ashore, they are immediately met by a group of hostile tribespeople. Oh, and a former soldier, the General (Recoing), who seems to have stayed behind after the tests out of guilt. He has gone a bit Colonel Kurtz, to drop an Apocalypse Now reference, and the captured women are now in deep trouble. As in potential human sacrifices.

The main positive here is excellent photography, both above and below the water. The scenery is lovely, and it’s captured beautifully. If you’re not thinking about booking a holiday to Tahiti by the mid-way point, you have not been paying attention. However, everything else is kinda lacklustre, not helped by dubbing where the main direction given to the English voice actors seems to have been, “Make it flatter! Less interesting!” As villains, the combination of locals and Frenchmen are awkward too. It feels like the makers didn’t want to go the “savage foreigners” route, as in Eli Roth’s Green Inferno. Yet they ended up instead making them subservient to the General, which could be seen as even more condescending.

As for the women, Sarah is the only one given much depth, courtesy of her history. While the accident may not prove significant in terms of the plot, it does make her seem a genuine person, and it’s more than the other three get. Once things get going (and it takes a while)t, it becomes a reasonable entry in the wilderness survival sub-genre, though the scene of her jumping into a waterfall to escape her pursuers is either bad CGI, or shot so badly it looks like CGI. I’d have liked to have seen her go full Rambo, using her environment against her enemies, but realistically, that would be a stretch for a surfer turned photographer. There are a couple of moments of moderate gory violence, but not a lot of emotional impact. You’ll likely leave with little more than a shrug. 

Dir: Jacques Kluger
Star: Adèle Galloy, Marie Zabukovec, Marilyn Lima, Aurélien Recoing
a.k.a. Maraé