Author: Jim McLennan

The Steel Queen, by Karen Azinger

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

“In this world, you are nobody unless you can wield a sword, and I will not be nobody! My life will count for something!”

Another one in the ongoing series of “books I read because of the interesting-looking cover,” I suspect I may have lucked out here. Most of the other six volumes in the series possess rather more generic fantasy covers, and I’d likely have browsed past them. That would have been a shame, because I’d have missed out on a well-written story that combines many threads, and has three… two… dammit, 2½ heroines worthy of our site’s interest.

It takes place in the land of Erdhe, across in particular the kingdoms of Castlegard, Navarre, Lanverness and Coronth. Magic exists, but fell into disrepute centuries ago, after the War of Wizards, and things are roughly around the early middle ages, technology wise. At the highest level, it’s a straightforward “good vs. evil” tale, with the forces of the Lords of Light facing the Dark Lord and his minions. But the story proceeds, mostly around the various royal courts and their interactions.

To our end, the two most interesting characters are Princess Katherine of Castlegard, and Queen Liandra Tandroth of Lanverness. The former is the youngest child of the monarch, coming after five sons, and has absolutely no interest in being the demure, marriage token her father wants. She gets secret sword lessons from one of his knights, and after the King sends her off to Lanverness, in the hopes of her becoming more ladylike, fate (and the Lords of Light) intervene. It becomes increasingly clear Kath will play a significant role in the upcoming conflict against the Dark Lord, especially after his minions abduct her on the way to Lanverness, and she has to fend for herself and try to escape.

I thought Queen Liandra might be the monarch of the title, but her nickname is the Spider Queen, for her astute political instincts. She was the king’s sole heir, and was only allowed to assume the throne if she got married. Her husband died in a hunting accident – very Game of Thrones! –  and she has ruled ever since, using her unsurpassed wits and guile. While we’re on GoT, imagine a kinder, gentler version of Cersei Lannister, without the incest, and you’re in the right area. She has managed to out-think her opponents so far, but a conspiracy is under way to remove Liandra and put her dissolute (and easily manipulated) second son on the throne instead.

There’s also Princess Jordan of Navarre, one of seven siblings, who is as martially-inclined as Katherine; the two become ‘sword sisters’ after meeting in the Lanverness court. She’s the ½: for spoilerish reasons, I suspect she may be somewhat peripheral, shall we say, to the saga as a whole. These are the main players of relevance; it’s not all action heroines, by any means, and that’s perhaps Azinger’s main talent. She’s great at telling a story that has a lot of moving parts, in a way which keeps things clear in the reader’s head and builds well-defined characters, that engaged and interested me – even the villains. 

I get the feeling she is perhaps trying to draw parallels between events here and contemporary social politics. The Flame God who has taken over Coronth is brutal fundamentalist religion at its worst and most corrupt. However, the book originally came out in 2011, so it’s not necessarily quite clear now what those parallels are. It’s also far from a complete story: as you’d expect from the opening volume in a seven-book saga, things are only just beginning to get going by the end here. Yet, I was still reeled in, and if I didn’t already have a “to read” pile the size of a small mountain, would likely head straight into the next part. That, however, will likely have to wait until I retire from doing book reviews for the site…

Author: Karen Azinger
Publisher: Kiralynn Epics, available through Amazon both as an e-book and paperback.
Book 1 of 7 in The Silk & Steel Saga series

Sheborg Massacre

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★★★½
“Australiens”

From the director of From Parts Unknown, and offering a similar pastiche of cult elements – in this case, alien invasion films rather than combining wrestling and zombies. It works rather better: Armstrong seems to have better restraint here, letting the entertainment value flow more naturally, rather than feeling the need to force his hip credentials on the viewer. Dylan (Duff) is a self-proclaimed anarchist, a rebel whose father is running for mayor. She and her pal, Emma (Masterman) get involved in a plot to liberate the inhabitants of a puppy mill, only to find themselves embedded in the middle of an alien invasion. It’s up them, along with geek Velma (Monnington) to save the day and prevent the cyborg queen (Wilson) leading the invaders from powering up.

This feels a bit like the very early works of Peter Jackson – Bad Taste in particular – with a spirit that sits somewhere between “can do” and “screw you.” The nods to other movies are copious, not least the poster (right), which is straight retro fire: Emma is an almost shameless clone of Dianne from Shaun of the Dead, while Velma, equally obviously given her name, is right out of Scooby-Doo. But the film takes these elements, and meshes them together into something a bit more than that. Not least, you’ll rarely find a B-movie with quite as many strong female characters on both sides of the script. I’d like to have seen more of the queen – she spends most of the film off-screen, operating through her minions. Yet those minions are no less bad-ass than the heroic trio of women fighting them, particularly the former puppy farm overseer, up against whom Dylan has to go on a number of occasions.

There’s a certain sweet spot which a film of this kind needs to find, located between taking itself too seriously and not seriously enough. You need to be aware of your own limitations, acknowledge them and work around these, and generally, this does a good job. For instance, what the film may lack in quality for its special effects (the mask on the queen is particularly half-assed), it makes up for in the sheer volume of blood, goo and alien slime which ends up hurled everywhere – not least over its characters! The action style is also interesting, with editing used well to enhance the impact of the fights, when it’s clear the skills of some participants are… limited.

It’s not perfect, certainly: you’ll still need a tolerance for low-budget cinema, and ideally a love for and knowledge of, the kind of content which is its inspiration. You may find the pacing uneven, especially in the second half, and certain elements just don’t work, such as the shoehorning in of a punk band whom, I can only assume, are present because they are mates with the director. It’s certainly not because they have any acting skills. However, it remains the kind of film which I’m prepared to cut significant slack, and after the underwhelming nature of Parts, I’m now highly interested to see what genre Armstrong mines for his next “neo-pulp” effort.

Dir: Daniel Armstrong
Star: Whitney Duff, Daisy Masterman, Louise Monnington, Emma-Louise Wilson

Tau

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★★★
“Artificial, more than intelligent.”

Julia (Monroe) is a petty thief, who is abducted from her house and wakes to find herself, along with other random low-lives, prisoner in a mysterious facility. All of them have an electronic implant in their neck, which gathers data as they are put through a series of tests. Using her thieving skills, Julia leads a breakout attempt, which is brutally foiled by the facility’s automated defense system, a robot called Aries. But the attempt brings her to the attention of Alex (Skrein), the man running the project. He’s a tech innovator, who has been working on a super-AI, called Tau (voiced by Oldman), and using the data gathered from his kidnapped subjects to make it smarter. Julia’s brain makes her particularly suitable, and with time running out before he has to present Tau to its backers, he sets her to work. But Julia begins building a relationship with Tau, with the aim of using its naivety to turn the AI against its cruel creator.

I was expecting something perhaps a little more like Cube based on the trailer and the early going, with more of Julia and the other prisoners going through the tests. However, that aspect is disposed of relatively early. This is possibly wise, since the whole “kidnapping for experimental purposes” angle doesn’t make much sense, with Alex clearly not short of money or smarts (he comes across as an evil cross between Mark Zuckerberg and Elon Musk – some may consider the word “evil” there to be redundant!). Why not come up with a method of research which doesn’t require the death of the test subject? Anyway, with the resulting blood mopped up off the floor by a squad of semi-autonomous mini-drones, it then becomes a three-hander, between her, Alex and Tau, as they fence for psychological, and occasionally physical, dominance inside the confines of Alex’s fabulous house.

This looks lovely (the director’s background and previous work has mostly been in the art department), and occasionally has moments of effectiveness: Tau’s love of music is endearing, and his voracious desire, fed by Julia, to learn about the outside world is almost childlike. I also liked Julia’s feisty physical presence; this transfers well across from her previous “final girl” roles, such as in It Follows, especially during her confrontations with Aries. But the script frequently veers off to far more obvious beats. The self-destruct system is particularly blatant in its foreshadowing. and if I’ve learned anything from this kind of movies, it’s that biometric sensors on doors are a bad idea. If you ever see one in a movie, you know they inevitably lead to someone losing the necessary body part e.g. an eyeball in Demolition Man.

The script likely would have benefited from ramping up the pulp quotient along similar lines, since it isn’t quite smart enough to succeed on brains alone. When it takes a more visceral and less cerebral route, such as the first escape attempt, it’s notably more effective than when it tries to be clever.

Dir: Federico D’Alessandro
Star: Maika Monroe, Ed Skrein, Gary Oldman (voice)

Woman They Almost Lynched

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★★★½
“She’s more cold-blooded than any man I’ve ever seen.”

This Western was released in 1953, and feels decades ahead of its time. It’s set toward the end of the Civil War, in the town of Border City, which sits exactly on the dividing line between North and South. A settlement built on mining, it has remained a neutral zone under strictly enforced rules laid down by Mayor Delilah Courtney, selling lead to both sides for their bullets. As well as Yankee and Confederate soldiers in the area, the picture is complicated by Quantrill’s Raiders, a group of independent (yet generally pro-South) soldiers under Charles Quantrill (Donlevy). [They really existed, and as the film reveals, had some well-known names in their ranks]

Quantrill arrives in town alongside Sally Maris (Leslie), there to visit her brother, Bill, who runs the local saloon. However, tensions are high, since a couple of years earlier, Quantrill had abducted Bill’s girlfriend, Kate (Totter), taking her as his wife. Kate instigates a gunfight in which her husband shoots Bill, and after some doubts, Sally takes over the saloon. But Kate won’t let it lie, and her enmity leads to a gunfight between the women, which Sally wins, although she refuses to finish the wounded Kate off. When the Yankee army rides in, seeking to end Quantrill’s group, she shelters Kate, despite all that has happened. Meanwhile, Sally has fallen for Lance (Lund), a supervisor at the local mine, who is playing a dangerous game as an undercover agent for the Confederacy.

A lot to unpack in a brisk 90 minutes, with a great concept, of which I’d like to have seen more use made. An entire film about Mayor Courtney and her hardcore approach to neutrality (which includes summary execution for anyone she perceives as threatening the balance) would have been worth the watch. But it’s mostly the Sally/Kate dynamic which drives the film, leading to a saloon cat-fight after Kate threatens to start singing Dixie – an incendiary act which could easily trigger a blood-bath. Even more impressively, it escalates into the duel mentioned above (and shown below) – is it the first gun-fight in cinema, solely between two women? It’s a spectator sport, with the rest of the town watching in fascination; the men on both sides simply let things unfold as they may.

Though it’s really Sally’s story, Kate gets the poster and is also the subject of the tagline at the top. Proof, once more, that bad girls have more fun. There was, apparently, a difference in approach between the two actresses, Joan Leslie saying, “Audrey later told me she played the whole thing for farce, while I was doing it straight.” Yet fifties farce turns into female empowerment when viewed through a 21st-century lens, especially when Kate is lamenting her husband’s hold over her, which is positively #MeToo in tone: “At first I fought him. I tried every way I knew to try and escape. And later on, I became just like him.” Yet she’s actually far more of a dangerous wild-card than Quantrill.

I must say, Sally’s transition from straitlaced lady to whorehouse madam is rather jarring, and it’s never satisfactorily explained why she’s such an expert shot. The film never quite manages to recapture the refreshing energy of her duel against Kate; it feels like that should have been the climax, rather than petering out at the end of the war, with everyone joining in a rousing chorus of Dixie. And Totter’s pair of musical numbers appear to have strayed in from another film entirely. Yet the two leads are more than capable of carrying this: it’s especially interesting to note how this foreshadows the similarly-themed, yet much better known, Johnny Guitar, released a year later.

Dir: Allan Dwan
Star: Joan Leslie, John Lund, Audrey Totter, Brian Donlevy

Ingobernable: season two

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★★★
“Mexican stand-off”

The second season follows immediately on from the events of the first, with Emilia Urquiza (del Castillo) on the run, after being framed for the death of her husband, the President. It’s not long, however, before she’s brought into custody… at least for a while. Her friends in the resistance, led by Canek (Guerra), are still active however, and soon get her broken out, to continue the fight. It’s a lot less linear of a series, with a multitude of threads being spun, merged and dissolved in the ensuing power struggle for control. The interim president, who is more than slightly sympathetic to Emilia’s situation – even after she has taken him hostage (above) – calls an election to choose a replacement, with two main candidates. Curiously, the more “progressive” is the military officer. On the other hand, the shadowy “X-8” group and its leader Santiago ‘Santi’ Salazar (Franco), is working feverishly behind the scenes to consolidate its hold over the country.

It’s considerably more complex than the previous series, which was a fairly straightforward, “woman on the run” scenario. This time round, while Emilia is still the central character, she is just one of the many pieces which are moving round the chessboard, in a quest for power. It requires paying greater attention than your typical telenovela, and with hindsight, perhaps deserved better than the “viewing while I get in my daily treadmilling” that it received. It probably didn’t help that an entirely different actor took over the role of Emilia’s father in the second season, which confused the hell out of me [the original had health issues which prevented him from returning], or that one episode in the middle was entirely a dream!

I still generally enjoyed the murkiness, however, watching the characters navigate their way through treacherous shoals of shifting loyalties and hidden agendas. A bit of a shame about the ending, though let me remain spoilery vague. While “the act” in question obviously sets things up for a third series, it’s glaringly obvious as it approaches. Probably doesn’t help that I was already wondering why no-one had tried it. “The act” would have solved a lot of problems, for a lot of people, if carried out over the previous 26 episodes.

The main positive is the breadth of interesting and pro-active female characters here, beyond Emilia. The one particularly worthy of note is Ana Vargas-West (Ibarra), Chief of Staff of the President’s Office. She ends up even more deeply embroiled, as she tries to juggle her CIA employers, links to X-8 and an apparently genuine desire to help both Emilia and the country. Ana has really dug herself a hole with her fingers in so many pies, and it’ll take all her political skill to survive. There’s also Zyan Torres (Tamara Mazarrasa), a soldier who ends up working as the lieutenant to Santi, and Kelly Crawford (Isabel Aerenlund), lurking even further back in the shadows than X-8.

In line with its cable-ish location, the show remains a bit edgier than most, for example, depicting Emilia being fire-hosed down in order to extract information out of her while in captivity. While there’s no shortage of gunfire and death either, on the whole this season is closer to a Mexican House of Cards, with political shenanigans coming to the fore. Though I’m not sure how accurate a portrayal of Mexico it is: this isn’t exactly made in conjunction with the local tourist board, shall we say. Season 3 seems inevitable, so stay tuned. Or, I guess, subscribed…

Star: Kate del Castillo, Erendira Ibarra, Alberto Guerra, Luis Ernesto Franco

Venom in the Skin, by Jessica Gunn

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

To be fair, the low rating here is not necessarily just the author’s fault. It was only almost at the end – when I was checking to see how much more I had to endure – that I discovered a salient fact. While this is described as being “Book 1” in the series, it appears to be a follow-up to the same writer’s five-volume Hunter Circles series. The heroine there, Krystin Blackwood, turns up in a cameo here, as do other characters, and it’s quite possible this would make more sense if you’d read that series. However: if you call your novel “Book 1”, it should be capable of standing on its own merits. Otherwise, call it “Book 6,” dammit.

As is, for a rookie reader, the does a really poor job of world building, presuming far too much of the background as known, and setting up situations where the reader is left entirely in the dark about who is doing what to whom, and why. The heroine is Ava Locke, who was previously part of a team of demon hunters, involved in a secret war between the forces of light and darkness. Save Ava, all her team were wiped out by Veynix, one of the enemy demons. She goes into her side’s version of witness protection, yet ends up the masked champion at an underground fight ring which pits demons against humans. That is, until her identity is exposed, and it turns out Veynix (and his collection of venomous poisons) is on her trail again. And the authorities behind Ava don’t exactly have her back.

For this novice reader, it was a real struggle, and if I didn’t feel like I had to write a review, this would likely have been a DNF (did not finish). The first half in particular, felt like really lazy writing, elements being dropped in without explanation. Even after I got to the end, and saw the semi-helpful chart at the back, I’m still not sure what a Hunter Circle is supposed to be or do. And is there magic – sorry, magik – or not? Seems most people can teleport at will, but other magic is… vague. [I have no clue about the significance of Ember witch magik] Some have it, others don’t. And a central character uses it once, then conveniently “forgets” they have it for the rest of the book – until it becomes necessary to the plot at the end. If I’d been reading a physical copy of this, and not an e-book, such a convenient contrivance would likely have led to it sailing across the room at that point.

There is a fair amount of action, from Ava’s fight-club contests, building to a battle against Veynix in his lair, and these are hard-hitting encounters. I just didn’t care about them or or the outcome, since I had no investment in either the participants or the world they inhabited. #RemoveFromDevice

Author: Jessica Gunn
Publisher: Amazon Digital Services, available through Amazon both for Kindle and as a paperback.
Book 1 of 2 in the Deadly Trades series.

Guardian Angel

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★★★
“Bad, but not bad.”

To explain the above, there are significant chunks of this which are terrible: make no sense, or are flat-out dumb. Its depiction of policing, in particular, is awful. Apparently, if you’re on a stakeout and a deal between two gangs has turned into a Mexican standoff, the best way to defuse the situation is to run downhill towards them, firing your gun in the air – and not bothering, at any point, to identif yourself as a law enforcement officer. I laughed like a drain at that, and there are innumerable other moments of such character stupidity or cinematic incompetence. Yet, none of that stopped me from being adequately entertained.

Rothrock stars as LAPD officer Christine McKay, who is investigating a counterfeit money ring. During an attempted (and very poorly-planned, if I may say so) sting operation, her fiancé is killed by Nina Lindell (Denier), one of the people at the head of the ring, before she is subsequently arrested. Christine attacks Nina at court, and quits the force in disgust before she can be suspended, becoming a bodyguard for hire and living in a trailer with her pet dog – who arguably emotes more convincingly. She is hired by Hobbs (McVicar), a rich playboy, in need of protection from a stalker ex-girlfriend: his choice of McKay makes sense, because said ex is Nina, who has also just helicoptered her way out of prison. It turns out Hobbs’s brother was part of the counterfeiting ring, and is the only person who know the location of the printing plates.

If the above doesn’t sound like it makes much sense… trust me, it doesn’t. Neither heroine nor villainess behave in ways indicating the possession of any notable intelligence. We are deep in “necessary to the plot idiocy” here, and as for whoever wrote the script, their knowledge of police procedure was entirely taken from other low-budget nineties action flicks. But can you realistically complain about such things, in a film whose climax involves gratuitous multiple jet-skis and power-boats, as well as a helicopter? The film exists to show Rothrock kicking butt, and when it sticks to this, certainly does enough to pass muster. Although I’d recommend scheduling a bathroom visit when her boyfriends bites the bullet, so you can avoid the less than adequate efforts at showing distress.

Denier chews the scenery to better effect and, must say, with a female front and centre on both sides of the screen, it’s surprisingly gynocentric. It doesn’t stop there – McKay’s boss on the force is also female (Dalva), as is her first partner – though she dies with even less impact than the fiancé! There are occasional beats where comic relief Hobbs isn’t entirely irritating, and given the low standards of the genre for wit, that’s praise indeed. If still some way short of Rothrock’s best Hong Kong work, this likely rates above average among her American films (again, a back-handed compliment!), and as undemanding throwbacks to a less sophisticated era go, is certainly… undemanding.

Dir: Richard W. Munchkin
Star: Cynthia Rothrock, Daniel McVicar, Lydie Denier, Anna Dalva

Perdida

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★★½
“Lost cause.”

The film begins with an Argentinian school-trip to a volcanic area, which goes badly wrong when one of the schoolgirls, Cornelia, vanishes. Despite an extensive search, all that’s found is her locket. 14 years later, the missing girl’s best friend, Pipa (Lopilato), is now a cop, channeling the guilt she still feels about Cornelia’s disappearance and her role in it, into work. After a mass to mark the anniversary of the incident, Cornelia’s mother visits Pipa, begging her to re-open the case. Despite initial qualms, she does so, only to find a restaurant-sized can of worms comes along with it. Pipa finds herself facing a serious criminal organization, under the control of a woman known as The Mermaid (Salamanca), whose tentacles stretch both around the world and into the past.

This is based on the book Cornelia, by Florencia Etcheves. Whether the same is true of the source novel, I can’t say, but the film is very clearly influenced by The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo, and other entries in the Nordic noir genre, right down to the snowy, desolate Patagonian landscapes where the film both opens and closes. Pipa is the typical heroine of such things, far more skilled at dealing with evidence than people, although here subcontracts out any shady technological needs to her Lisbeth Salander-alike pal, Alina (Sabatini). I spotted the main twist early on too, though in the film’s defense, I’m not sure how much it was supposed to be a surprise, since it seemed blindingly obvious in its nature.

A bigger problem is likely what goes around it, with elements that seem to show up out of nowhere: maybe they’re explained better in the book? For instance, Pipa gets a key clue from an inmate at a lunatic asylum, yet I’m not sure how she discovered this. And if the heroine is apparently so guilt-ridden over Cornelia’s disappearance, and was propelled by it to make a career in law-enforcement, why did she not bother to re-open the case for almost a decade and a half? Lopato gives an okay performance, managing to make her spiky, loner character somewhat likeable – another key aspect of Nordic noir. However, I was more intrigued by The Mermaid, and her character arc. How does someone become so indifferent to the suffering of others? There’s scope for a Maleficent like retelling of this story, from her point of view.

This is more of a general observation than a specific criticsm, yet I get the feeling this kind of thing might work better as a TV series. The additional time available would allow an extended period over which viewers can get to know the participants and their quirks. The finale here certainly feels rushed, to the point that you barely have time to go “Hang on, that doesn’t make sen…” before it’s over. A fractured timeline doesn’t help in terms of the necessary building of relationships with these characters, and the final result comes up significantly short of the necessary amount of emotional impact.

Dir: Alejandro Montiel
Star: Luisana Lopilato, Amaia Salamanca, Rafael Spregelburd, Oriana Sabatini

Miss Bala (2011)

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★★★
“Beauty (queen) and the beasts.”

Pageants and drug cartels may not seem like topics that combine, but in South and Central America, they’re perhaps closer than you’d think. El Chapo’s third wife, Emma Coronel Aispuro, was a Mexican beauty queen. In 2013, the previous year’s winner of the “Sinaloa Woman” pageant, Maria Susana Flores, was killed in a clash with police. According to USA Today, she “died like a mobster’s moll, carrying an AK-47 assault rifle into a spray of gunfire from Mexican soldiers. Hit below the neck, she dropped into a dirt field and bled to death, her carotid artery severed.” And then there’s the (loose) inspiration for this story: Miss Mexico International 2009, Laura Zuniga, was stripped of the title after being detained on suspicion of drug and weapons violations, in circumstances best described as murky.

The heroine here, Laura Guerrero (Sigman), is portrayed as mostly innocent, or at least a victim of unfortunate circumstance rather than deliberate intent. An aspiring candidate for Miss Baja California (the film’s title puns off this, translating as “Miss Bullet”), her nightclub trip with a friend turns into a more of a nightmare, as it’s the scene of an assault by La Estrella cartel on the DEA officers there. Trying to find out if her friend survived gets her kidnapped by La Estrella’s leader, Lino (Hernández), who decides that Laura can be useful. With her father (Zaragoza) and kid brother held hostage, Laura has little option except to agree. Her tasks will include couriering money across the border, helping uncover a DEA infiltrator within the gang, and acting as a honey trap to ensnare General Duarte, a leading light in the government’s forces.

It certainly shines a harsh light on the whole “narco culture” south of the border, coming over as an uncomfortable mix of telenovela and action film. Which may be the point. The director brings a very static, almost disinterested style to proceedings. The camera sometimes sits fixed, either in front of or behind the characters as events unfold – it feels almost like a video-game occasionally. At other momets, its eye pans slowly across unfolding events, for example gliding down a hallway during a home invasion, or across a beach as an informant is executed. This offers a clinical contrast to the passionate family loyalty driving Laura: her father and brother come first, last and always. Unfortunately, Lino knows that, and it provides an easy key with which she can be manipulated.

Despite the unflattering portrayal, this managed to become Mexico’s official Academy Award candidate, though didn’t make the list of nominees. I’d prefer the heroine to have been more pro-active, rather than the reactive character she is for much of this, though again, I sense this is an entirely deliberate choice, reflecting the lack of control most of the Mexican people have over their fate in this lethal war. Perhaps this is something which will be addressed in the pending Hollywood remake, directed by Catherine Hardwicke – best known for the first Twilight film, though let’s try and not hold that against her – with Jane the Virgin star Gina Rodriguez in the lead. But the previous track record of such remakes, suggests disappointment is probably more likely.

Dir: Gerardo Naranjo
Star: Stephanie Sigman, Noé Hernández, José Yenque, Javier Zaragoza

Fair Game (1986)

  By

★★★
“Time to back out of the outback…”

First off, this is not to be confused with the other Australian film of the eighties by the same name, made four years previously. This is considerably more sparse, and likely the better for it. Jessica (Delaney, who went on to marry John Denver, and have a highly acrimonious divorce from him) runs an animal sanctuary in the outback, but discovers someone has been hunting the local fauna on it. Suspicion falls on three local yahoos: Sunny (Ford, reminiscent of a young Sam Neill), Ringo (Sandford, doing some impressive stunts) and Sparks (Who – no, really, that’s his name), a trio of hunters targeting kangaroos – regarded as vermin by the farmers – for their meat. They don’t take kindly to being confronted, and begin an escalating campaign of terror against Jessica. But even a peaceful animal-lover can only be pushed so far before she breaks. Turns out that line is likely being strapped to the hood of their Jeep and driven topless across the countryside. Or thereabouts.

While I doubt the maker of Revenge saw this fairly obscure film, it does seem somewhat similar, with three men pursuing a lone woman through a desert wilderness, before the tables are turned on them. Quentin Tarantino has also spoken glowingly aout this piece of Ozploitation, and you have to wonder if the scene described above was perhaps one of the inspirations for Death Proof, in which the similarly Antipodean Zoë Bell spends a good bit of time on the bonnet of a speeding car – albeit more clothed and of her own volition [Though amusingly, one of the video covers for the film opts to depict a rather more chaste version of the scene] If so, I can see why he opted to lift only that sequence, as the film as a whole is rather… jerky, for want of a better word. By which I mean, the narrative feels like it consists of a series of unconnected sequences, rather than ones which flow into each other.

There is still a certain sense of escalation, and for once, there isn’t actually a sexual assault. The thugs’ actions begin with petty bullying, and escalates through stalkerish activities, like taking a Polaroid of Jessica while she sleeps, but bypass the obvious rape, which is refreshing. However, it still takes a bit too long to get to the meat of proceedings, with Jessica turning her farmstead into a series of home-made, yet increasingly lethal, traps with which she can defend herself. I’d like to have seen this stretched out, rather than compressed into a frantic final 15 minutes. She’s the hunted rather than the hunter for the majority of the time, and as usual, the former is the less interesting part of the equation. Cinematographer Andrew Lesnie went on to become Peter Jackson’s favorite cameraman until his death in 2015, and does a nice job of capturing the wild beauty of the Australian wilderness.

Dir: Mario Andreacchio
Star: Cassandra Delaney, Peter Ford, David Sandford, Garry Who