Author: Jim McLennan

Body of Sin

  By

★★
“Diamonds are clearly not forever.”

Erica (Kriis) is an attractive con-artist, who seduces married men in hotels, then drugs and robs them, knowing they’ll never be able to report the crime. She has just brought on an apprentice, Lauren (Patrikios), to learn the dubious trade, watch her back, etc. Their next score turns out to be the jackpot. as they discover the target was carrying a stash of diamonds with a seven-figure value. Absconding with their ill-gotten gains, the pair decide to lay low for a while, and head to Erica’s hideout on the holiday destination of Isabelle Island. They’re disturbed to read news reports that the target turned up dead in the room, and it quickly appears that the owner of the diamonds is closing in on them. But who is the threat? Local policeman, Mike (McCullough), for whom Lauren has a thing? Visiting boat-owner and part-time magician Tom (Berdini), with whom Erica has a fling? Or the creepy bald guy who arrives on the island and appears to be stalking Erica?

The performer who makes the best impression here is Tybee Island in Georgia, playing the role of Isabelle Island. It seems like a very nice place to take a holiday, picturesque and relaxing. Everyone else? Not so much. In particular, you could have Meryl Streep and Helen Mirren, and they’d still struggle to do anything with a script which resembles French lace, in that it’s a lightly-connected series of holes. For instance, when robbing the target, Erica first comes across an empty briefcase, before locating the diamonds in a tube, hidden in the toilet cistern. Inexplicably. she still takes the briefcase – which, of course, turns out to contain a tracking device. For the film’s entire duration, people both good and bad don’t behave in ways that make logical sense, and Creepy Bald Guy is probably the Worst Stalker Ever, though in his defense, there does turn out to be something of an explanation.

The leads are decent enough. There’s a nice contrast between the utterly cynical and untrusting Erica, who believes she’s on some kind of crusade to punish deceitful men, and the more naive and open Lauren, who gradually becomes more appalled, the more she discovers about her partner. I’d far rather have seen this angle exploited, with the two women turning from Thelma and Louise buddies, into vicious competitors, battling each other for the diamonds. Instead, they literally stand around while the (eventually revealed) good guy and villain tussle it out, mano a mano, on the edge of a convenient cliff. No prizes for guessing how that ends. The other thing is, for a film basically predicated on sexual attraction… it’s  tame stuff. Given Kriis bears some resemblance to Penelope Cruz – though she’s Indian rather than Hispanic – this was disappointing. If ever you want proof that technical competence alone is not sufficient to justify a movie’s existence, this should be Exhibit A.

Dir: The Olson Brothers
Star: Elisha Kriis, Ellie Patrikios, William Mark McCullough, Riccardo Berdini

Agent 5

  By

★★½
“Sleepless in Seattle”

Coincidentally, this one-man production was watched immediately after another, also put together toward the north-west corner, around the USA/Canadian border. But Carter Johnson is relatively restrained compared to Shadow of the Lotus‘s Jeff L’Heureux, Johnson’s name only appearing ten times in the end credits. While not dissimilar in low-budget approach, Agent 5 likely comes out just on top of the two, due to better pacing and sleeker look.

The titular heroine is Jada (Lemos), an assassin for a shadowy group which brought her up and trained her to kill, after the death of her parents. However, her programming is broken after she’s assigned the target of a whistleblowing doctor, whose elimination has been ordered by the pharmaceutical company which employed him. He convinces her to spare his life: although nearby colleagues still complete the job, before his death, he gives her the folder of incriminating data, information which could save thousands of lives. When Agent 5 goes public with it, her own employer decides she must be eliminated for her treachery, and the call goes out that she is to be located and killed. Easier said than done, though, especially when the target has decided to take the battle to her boss.

The action is competent. Nothing especially memorable, yet those involved are wise enough to know their limitations, and operate within them, rather than pushing the envelope and coming up short. Plotwise, there are some wobbly aspects: as with Lotus, the director being the writer probably hampers seeing such deficiencies. Jada exerts no effort to make things difficult for her ex-employer. If I was the subject of a brigade of assassins, I’d have moved to another country (or at least another state), drastically changed my appearance and gone as far off the grid as possible. Agent 5 does none of this, and keeps driving around town – likely for the prosaic reason that it would have posed production difficulties. Her “defection” also needed additional work: as it stands, she goes from apparently dedicated killer to rebel on the strength of a thirty-second conversation. Showing her as already disgruntled and with thoughts of quitting, would have made this much more plausible.

Originally developed as a short web series back in 2012, the main strength for the feature-length version is on the visual side. The technical quality of the footage here is so slick, it’s all but indistinguishable from a fully professional production (from what I can gather, it’s more of a high-end hobby effort for most involved). If only the same could be said about the performances, which are the biggest problem. Not so much Lemos – I’m not the only person to think she could perhaps be mistaken for Kate Beckinsale under certain lighting conditions. But the rest of the cast are all over the place, things likely reaching their nadir in the male “newscaster,” whose acting is so spectacularly awkward, I rewound it, purely for amusement purposes.

Dir: Carter Johnson
Star: Cindy Lemos, Ben Andrews, Andrew Tribolini, Roy Stanton

Into the Dark, by J.A. Sutherland

  By

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

Alexis Carew is a third-generation settler on the planet Dalthus, and the ward of her grandfather, her parents having been killed in an accident. But her future is murky, for Dalthusian law prohibits women from inheriting property, such as her family’s estates. With the alternative being a marriage Alexis really doesn’t want, the 15-year-old girl instead signs up to become a midshipman in Her Majesty’s Navy (or, at least, the space version thereof), on the interstellar sloop Merlin. However, this is largely just exchanging one set of problems for another, whether winning the respect of her colleagues, fending off the too admiring ones, or adapting to the harsh life of outer space – and, stranger still, the “darkspace” which facilitates interstellar travel. And then there are the pirates…

This isn’t the first SF/sailing combination to feature a female protagonist, apparently being quite similar to David Weber’s Honor Harrington series. The first volume of that is still sitting in my “to read” list, so while I can’t directly compare them, Werner has you covered for a review of Weber’s book. They definitely seem to have a mutual inspiration in C.S. Forester’s Hornblower series, with a futuristic spin. Here, I’m not certain quite how well it works: some of the sailing elements definitely seem forced, even with the hand-waving nature of “darkspace”. For it basically behaves in whatever way is necessary for the plot to be jammed into Sutherland’s nautical peghole.

That’s probably the main weakness: it’s one especially apparent in the early going, when Alexis first goes into space, until my brain seemed to get used to it. On the plus side, she does make for an admirable heroine, one who uses her wits more than her fists. As such, the action quotient is fairly low; there’s a steep learning curve here, for both Alexis and the reader, as we all learn the mechanics of how things work in this strange universe. When that is finally out of the way, the energy ramps up: in particular, when a ship captured by the Merlin, is being taken back to port with Alexis at the helm, when the captured crew mutiny and retake the vessel.

This sequence likely the action highlight of this first volume, the rest being mostly long-distance space battles. Though with war breaking out right at the end, it’s likely things escalate further in subsequent volumes. Although the supporting characters are nicely drawn, I could perhaps have done with more of an antagonist.  The nearest this book has to offer never meets Alexis directly – his son being the closest she comes. Again, I suspect this angle may be further developed down the road. There’s enough promise shown here to keep the door open to continuing the series. But I should probably read On Basilisk Station first, as I suspect one series of pseudo-aquatic sci-fi is probably enough!

Author: J.A. Sutherland
Publisher: Amazon Digital Services, available through Amazon, both as a paperback and an e-book
Book 1 of 6 in the Alexis Carew series.

The Breadwinner

  By

★★★
“Burka-to-back.”

Around the turn of the millennium, Parvana (Chaudry) is an 11-year-old girl living in Kabul, Afghanistan – then under the strict religious rule of the Taliban, in the aftermath of the Russian retreat. Her father is arrested and taken off to prison, leaving his wife and children without a male guardian. Which is kinda important, because under Taliban law, women are not allowed out in public unaccompanied. With no other option, Parvana cuts her hair and dresses as a boy in order to be able to get supplies for her family. Teaming up with another boy-who-isn’t, Shauzia (Bhatia), they find work. Parvana starts saving for the bribes necessary to see, and hopefully win the release of, her father; Shauzia is saving up for her long-held dream of seeing the ocean. Of course, it’s never that easy, especially post-9/11, when the country is invaded by America and its allies.

A well-drawn exercise in paradox, it’s interesting to see liberal Hollywood attempt to juggle two of its favoured topics: feminism and Islam. Though in the end, this more or less says “Screw it,” and comes down firmly on the side of the former. For if you didn’t hate Islam before this film… you probably will by the time it’s over. Technically of course, the villain here is fundamentalism, in the malevolent shape of the Taliban; yet, this is the only kind of religion depicted in the movie. It’s not even clear if Parvana and her family are Muslim; they certainly don’t go to a mosque, and their existence seems entirely secular. On that basis, I’m quite surprised the film hasn’t been called out for Islamophobia, but I guess those gatekeepers were probably too busy nodding approvingly at the message of feminist liberation.

Moving on from tdubious socio-political messages which I can take or leave, as an animated feature, I liked this rather better. It intertwines Parvana’s efforts, both to contact her father and simply survive, with her telling the folk-tale of The Elephant King – making its hero her brother, who was previously killed by a land-mine left over from the Soviet occupation. The two threads use different yet complementary styles of animation to separate the “real” world from Parvana’s story, and it’s an effective way of depicting them. Parvana, too, makes for a solid heroine: brave and loyal to her family, while being too innocent and young to know the awkward questions she isn’t supposed to ask e.g WHY women aren’t allowed to go out unaccompanied.

Twomey was co-director of Oscar winner The Book of Kells, and it’s nice to see some animation that isn’t intent on being 3D and photo-realistic, so much as serving the story and the characters. It is sometimes a little hard to put aside the obvious intent as social propaganda, but I’ve never been one who felt you had to agree entirely with a film’s politics, in order to admire its artistic qualities. The latter are decent enough here to make for a worthwhile, if slightly too earnest, viewing experience.

Dir: Nora Twomey
Star (voice): Saara Chaudry, Soma Bhatia, Noorin Gulamgau, Kawa Ada

Shadow of the Lotus

  By

★★
“Give the man a hand!”

We know very well that, on low-budget films, people have to wear many hats. Hell, my IMDb entry began when a film I was supposed to be helping my wife produce, had an actor drop out. You can only respect those who can turn their hands to multiple jobs. And, yet… There’s a point at which it become self-defeating, because nobody can be good – or even competent – at so many positions. Lotus appears to have set new records in this area, with Jeff L’Heureux having his name listed in the end credits at no fewer than thirty different points, from director to make-up artist. That’s wearing an entire department store’s worth of hats, most apparent in the running time. For this is an 85-minute movie which runs for 124 minutes. L’Heureux the editor desperately needed to have had a word with L’Heureux the director and L’Heureux the writer about that.

There are two crime triads: the Black Lotus and the Red Dragons. Sarah (Huang) works for the former, but when she attempts to leave the organization, is shot, set ablaze and left for dead [Memo to self: if ever I become an evil overlord, I will not set my enemies on fire within easy rolling reach of the Pacific Ocean…] Naturally, she’s still alive, and comes back to begin disrupting the somewhat precarious plans of her former gang to form an alliance with the Dragons – I guess with the goal of forming some kind of super-triad under Gensho Woo (Geoff Wong). In the process, she encounters and subsequently teams up with local cop Claire (Neale), who has been trying to work things from the legal end. Sarah, needless to say, has no such limitations…

As noted, this is desperately in need of severe trimming, with hardly a single scene which does not go on for too long, where not altogether superfluous. This is particularly apparent in the early stages: it feels like an hour before things actually get going, with endless chit-chat between the players that’s blandly uninteresting. Things do improve in the second half, even if I found myself irrationally irritated by the way Sarah held her gun sidewise, like an amateur gangsta wannabe. The main plus is former colleague Jade (Macalino), who gets the chance to unleash her inner psycho. You could perhaps argue her performance is rampant over-acting, yet it’s still a heck of a lot of fun to watch, and the film is the poorer for Jade’s eventual departure.

L’Heureux is clearly inspired by, and trying to reproduce, the style of classic Hong Kong cinema from the likes of John Woo. That’s laudable enough an aim. Though the action is competent, it does fall short of these lofty goals, mostly lacking the passion and intensity which Woo’s actors brought to his films. This was never a function of their cost – admittedly, having Chow Yun-Fat was just a slight help to him there – though in defense of this, it appears to have been the director’s first feature. Plenty of room to improve next time, especially if he gets the help he needs to avoid spreading himself thinner than margarine on toast.

Dir: Jeff L’Heureux
Star: Vicky Huang, Melanie Neale, Alex Law, Candice Macalino

Girls With Balls

  By

★★★★
“Guess a new domain name is needed…”

Lurking behind one of the most cringeworthy titles I’ve ever seen, and a trailer that’s not much better, is a very pleasant surprise. Well, at least if you’re a fan of the “splatstick” genre, mixing over-the-top gore and comedy: Peter Jackson’s Brain Dead is the pinnacle of that genre. I certainly am, and consequently found this a real hoot. Girls volleyball team, the Falcons, are on their way home after their latest victory, when they end up diverted into a small town, populated entirely by inbred rednecks (or the Gallic version thereof). After an encounter in the hotel, they find themselves getting a night-time visit, and are soon being hunted down by the village’s residents. However, the biggest psycho may not be among the locals…

Afonso does a great job in depicting the heroines with broad strokes. You quickly establish the egotistical star player Morgane (Azem), up and coming star Jeanne (Daviot), nerdy M.A. (Balchere), etc. They’re all overseen by their distinctly non-athletic coach (Solaro), who treats them as if they were one big, dysfunctional family. Yet these internal tensions often threaten their literal survival. It was clear to me (if not many reviewers!) that Afonso is parodying the slasher genre: he takes it to such extremes, with the girls bickering over boyfriends even as their pursuers are mere feet away. That’s where this differs from the other “women’s sports team in wilderness peril” movie – yes, it’s a genre… well, there are two – Blood Games, which took itself seriously. He does an equally nice job with the villains. For example, rather than having hunting dogs, there’s one local who pretends to be a dog, playing the sound of hounds baying over a bullhorn.

It’s just one of the many times where this film subverts the audience’s expectations, not least in having heroines with their own set of flaws. Also included there is the country-and-western singer who hitches a ride on the team’s camper van, interrupting proceedings to offer sardonic commentary on proceedings. “The players on this team were all kind of hot”, he sings at the start, going on, “Another thing they have in common, is that they die before the end.” [Is he telling the truth? I won’t say…] Inevitably, of course, there’s a rather dumb scene where the girls use volleyballs to attack their enemies, and the climax doesn’t actually stick in the mind as well as many of the scenes which preceded it. The attack chihuahua, or the headless corpse that Just. Won’t. Die.

If you took this seriously, it would potentially be thoroughly offensive – though it’s entirely equal-opportunity in its approach there. Men, women, gay or straight: no-one here gets out alive. Just, for the love of all that is holy, skip the dubbed version on Netflix, and watch it subtitled. I caught a few seconds before lunging for the remote control, and my ears may still be bleeding.

Dir: Olivier Afonso
Star: Tiphaine Daviot, Manon Azem, Louise Blachère, Victor Artus Solaro

Lady Death: The Movie

  By

★★
“Death warmed up.”

My first viewing of this was on a day off from work, when I was down with some sinusy thing, and dosed up on DayQuil. So I chalked my losing interest and drifting off to the meds, and once I felt better, decided this deserved the chance of a re-view. However, the result was still the same: even as a bright-eyed and bushy-tailed viewer, I found attention lapsing. For this animated version of a mature comic, might as well be a He-Man and the Masters of the Universe episode. Which is a shame. I wanted to like it, since the creator of Lady Death, Brian Pulido, is something of a local comics legend here in my adopted home state of Arizona. This should have been better.

In 15th-century Sweden, Hope (Auten) is the daughter of Matthias (Kleinhenz), a mercenary who is actually an incarnation of Satan. When this is exposed, the innocent Hope is burned at the stake by religious zealots: there, she makes a literal deal with the devil, and agrees to re-join her father in Hell, where he has also taken her fiance, medical student Niccolo. However, once she is in the underworld, she rebels against his authority. With the aid of Satan’s former swordsmith, Cremator (Mungle), she obtains ‘Darkness’, a weapon Cremator had forged after slaying Asmodeus. Hope – or Lady Death, as she is now known – begins to amass an army and plot her demonic father’s overthrow.

All of which sounds considerably more interesting than the execution here, which is blandly uninteresting in just about every level, beginning with its depiction of hell. Even by the standards of 2004, this is low-quality animation. One of the strengths of the medium is it’s limited only by imagination: you don’t need to worry about the costs of building sets or whatever, it’s just what you draw. Yet there’s no indication here of any thought having gone into the setting. Hell is, apparently, a poorly-lit and generic cave system, populated by entities that look like Jabba the Hutt or Tim Curry in Legend. Much the same vanilla complaint can be leveled at voice-acting that’s desperately in need of more energy, save perhaps McAvin as Lucifer’s “jester,” Pagan.

But it’s perhaps the script which is the weakest element here – and considering the screenplay was written by Pulido, that’s especially disappointing. I’m only somewhat familiar with the comics, yet they seem to have a rich and fully-developed mythology. Could have fooled me based on this, where the Devil is basically an idiot, who has to make every mistake in the Evil Overlord handbook, to allow his adversary to triumph. Though this version of Lady Death appears considerably more heroic than in the source material, the question of why a “good girl” would want to reign over hell is never addressed. All that’s left is in an impressive bit of central character design, because there’s no doubt she is a striking creation. She’s someone who deserves a significantly better fate than this entirely forgettable prod with a blunt stick.

Dir: Andy Orjuela
Star (voice): Christine Auten, Mike Kleinhenz, Andy McAvin, Rob Mungle

Amazon Hot Box

  By

★★
“Neither Amazonian nor Hot.”

Is it possible for a homage to be too accurate? This could be the problem here. It’s clear that Bickert has a deep affection for the “women in prison” genre – yet, again, possibly too much so. For this is less a parody or a pastiche than a loving re-creation, and doesn’t understand that a lot of these movies… well, to be honest, they suck. Badly acted, poorly plotted, thinly-disguised excuses for porn. And that’s the good ones. If you’re going to make a homage to them, you can’t do so with the knowing winks to the camera that we get here. Because the best examples – from Ilsa, She-Wolf of the SS through to the glorious Reform School Girls – played it entirely straight. You may not take them seriously: but, make no mistake, they took themselves very seriously indeed, or at least gave that impression, and played it totally straight-faced. Here, it’s more like watching WiP cosplay.

Penny (Carlisle) is arrested while on an ecological mission in the fictional “South American” country of Rattica [quotes used, since the state of Georgia is a thoroughly unconvincing stand-in for anywhere Latin] and dispatched to the prison run by evil warden Inga Von Krupp (Church, sporting an accent considerably more Russian than German, though I suspect #ThatsTheJoke). There’s the the similarly evil inmate Val (Risk), and somehow, Rattica’s newly-instituted President, Jett Bryant (Bryant), is also involved. As is Agent Six (Jordan Phipps), a secret agent sent into Rattica to… Well, I’m not quite sure what her purpose is, because it’s one of the film’s numerous, largely uninteresting threads, which Bickert fails to weave into an interesting cinematic carpet.

Part of the problem is, the film needs to figure out where it wants to focus. Initially, it seems to be on Penny, but it seems to get bored quickly of her – I can’t blame it, to be honest, she’s blandly uninteresting – and drift onto Inga and her mad scientist collaborator for a bit. Then we get zombies thrown in, because…? Inga does at least have a midget sidekick, but like most of the cast, Church desperately needs to up her energy and intensity. All the bits lifted from elsewhere, e.g. the inmate standing on an ice-block in the middle of the dinner table, can’t conceal that this is largely bereft of its own ideas, and the execution is generally too limp to succeed. Even the gratuitous female nudity is severely limited. So what’s the point?

Oh, I know what they were trying to do. I’ve seen more than my fair share of these movies, to the point it’s a running joke in our household. So it isn’t a question of not getting it. I get it. I just don’t get it, in the sense of not seeing what the aim is here. For this plays like a third-generation, washed-out VHS copy of the movies it’s emulating. Why bother with this rather lame, tame wannabe, instead of the real thing?

Dir: James Bickert
Star: Kelsey Carlisle, Ellie Church, Tristan Risk, Jett Bryant

Lachmi Bai, Rani of Jhansi: The Jeanne D’Arc of India by Michael White

  By

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

“Fear not,” she retorted with animation, “that I will suffer the indignity of capture at their hands. My dead body they may find, but the spirit of the Rani of Jhansi will have carried more than one of them to an accounting before the great tribunal of justice.”

“With the exception of a white turban, she was attired in a blood-red uniform from head to foot.”

I’m surprised how sympathetic a portrayal this novel has of Queen Lachmi Bai (as it’s spelled here), considering when it was published. For this came out in 1901, a point at which India was still firmly under British rule – heck, Queen Victoria was on the throne as the year began. Yet Lachmi Bai is very much the heroine, portrayed respectfully, to an almost idealized degree. For instance, it begins with the rebel massacre of British troops and their families at Jhansi. Yet this is depicted as being in explicit defiance of her command to secure them as prisoners.

It’s a mix of historical fact and pure speculation, the latter being particularly evident in a fairly platonic love triangle between the Queen, and two of her (entirely fictitious, I suspect) lieutenants, the Hindu Prasad Singh and the Muslim Ahmad Khan. The latter is the villain of the piece. His blood-lust is responsible for the massacre, and he is depicted in phrases such as “the expression of his mouth and chin denoted cruelty and treachery—the latter, perhaps, an accomplishment rather than a failing to the Oriental mind.” [While there is an argument to be made here for Islamophobia in his depiction, given the highly positive way Lachmi Bai and Prasad are portrayed, accusations of general “racism” seem lazy]

However, even he spends much of the middle portion working faithfully in support of the queen’s mission to free her country from the British. Speaking of whom, there is one scene early in the book told from the point of view of the Empire. But thereafter, they are largely referred to as “the Foreigners,” again demonstrating the Indo-centric viewpoint of the novel. While they ultimately prevail, this is not reported with any sense of triumph. Indeed, White is remarkably prophetic, Lachmi Bai saying, almost with her final breath: “Not forever shall their horsemen ride triumphantly through the land. A day will come when their law shall be no longer obeyed, and our temples and palaces rise anew from their ruins.” 46 years later, India did indeed become an independent country.

“But even if defeat is again the will of God, if die we must; is it not better to perish as warriors should, in a feat of arms upon which the eyes of our enemies will gaze with marvel, than as wild beasts hunted through the jungle?”

“Her horse leaped forward, straight for Sindhia’s guns.”

The story told here bypasses her entire life and marriage, joining proceedings after she has already become a widow. In the early stages, Lachmi Bai also takes a back seat, with the storyline revolving around Ahmad and Prasad’s rivalry. The former manipulates the latter into believing the Queen is having an affair with young officer Dost Ali, and also the Queen into believing Prasad is plotting against her. This leads to his exile for the middle of the book, until returning after the fall of Jhansi, as the Queen is making her escape from the city. Though I must say, Ahmad’s eventual fate is rather underwhelming, in a “Cersei Lannister” kind of way. Without getting too spoilery, hopes he would meet the point of Lachmi Bai’s sword proved unfulfilled.

The latter half focuses more on the Queen, as fate deals her cards both good and bad. It’s made clear the military reverses suffered are not her fault, or in any way reflect her bravery. Her commanders are to blame, along with a tendency for her forces to break under pressure. Yet, as the quote above says, she would rather have a glorious death than a subservient life. The comparisons to Jeanne D’Arc are understandable, and made explicit: “A second Jeanne D’Arc, as valiant in battle, more subtle in council than the Maid of Orleans, moved by the same passionate love for her country, had cast in their teeth a wager of defiance, to stand until either they were driven from her state, or she had perished.”

Of course, we know how the story ends, and White gives Lachmi Bai the heroic send-off she deserves: “She drew the folds of a shawl over her face to hide her death agony, and again lay down. The blackness of night grew deeper, the silence more intense. Presently, strange, warrior forms seemed to appear from the unknown and filled the Rani’s tent. One supremely beautiful figure, in dazzling raiment, came forth to enfold the dying woman in her arms.” It’s surprisingly touching, and a decent end to a story which has survived the passage of almost 120 years better than I expected

Author: Michael White
Publisher: J. F. Taylor & Company, available as an e-book for free from Project Gutenberg.

Manikarnika: The Queen of Jhansi

  By

★★★½
“Show me the Mani”

The movie opens with a particularly elaborate disclaimer, admitting that “certain cinematic liberties have been sought,” and that “this film does not claim historical authenticity.” Probably wise: Indians take their national heroes very seriously; just last year, another historical epic, Padmaavat, sparked months of protests, up to and including buses being set on fire. This seems to have largely (but not entirely) escaped such a fate, and likely deservedly. It certainly does little to disrespect the woman, the myth or the legend of Manikarnik, the woman who would become Queen Lakshmibai, and lead a revolt against the British who occupied India in the mid-19th century.

It definitely does adjust things – most notably skipping over the whole “child marriage” thing, which was a key element of Jhansi Ki Rani and The Tiger and the Flame. In this case, Manikarnika (Ranaut) is already fully-grown when she catches the eye of the king of Jhansi, eventually becoming his queen. Thereafter, it goes through her becoming a widow, eviction by the British, rebellion and eventual death in battle, albeit with only a moderate degree of historical accuracy. For, undeniably, there are a fair number of those “certain cinematic liberties,” especially in terms of events being staged and timed for dramatic impact. I’m willing to cut them some slack, since a lot of the results are highly effective.

Curiously, there’s a lot of style adopted from Wonder Woman here, in particular the use of super slow-mo during the action scenes. But it also carries a significant amount of heart: perhaps due to the lead actress also being the co-director? Ranaut knocks it out of the park in some scenes, such as when she’s facing off against villainous British officer Captain Gordon (Edward Sonnenblick, who played a similar role in Jhansi Ki Rani). There are a lot of lines which could come over as cheesy, such as, “This throne doesn’t make me a Queen. It’s the love and faith of Jhansi’s people which does.” But the lead actress delivers them with such conviction, even this Brit was left wanting to stand up and cheer, as a subsequent forced departure from her palace turns into a torch-lit procession of support.

After her bad-ass credentials are established with her shooting a tiger, the first half doesn’t have much action to its name, though is never dull. And this is more than made up for by a rousing second-half filled with impressive battles, though the overall impact is severely hurt by some really poor CGI, such as cannons which fire with zero recoil, and breezes which affect only our heroine, not the grass in which she is supposedly standing. The lack of supporting characters is notable: her husband Gangadhar (Sengupta) was most notable to our eyes, for the Indo-mullet hairstyle he wore. On the British side, Gordon is replaced half-way through by Sir Hugh Rose, to no particular purpose.

However, this is probably the most beautiful film I’ve seen this year; it looks like a Ridley Scott film, and there’s little higher praise than that in my mind. Between that and Ranaut’s intense performance, there’s enough reason to see this, and overcome any problems.

Dir: Kangana Ranaut and Radha Krishna Jagarlamudi
Star: Kangana Ranaut, Atul Kulkarni, Jisshu Sengupta, Vaibhav Tatwawaadi