Author: Jim McLennan

Stone Cold Fox

  By

★★
“For Fox’s sake…”

I think, if you’re going to try and recreate the eighties, it might help if you were there. I was. Co-writer/director Tabet? Not so much. She seems repeatedly to confuse the look and feel of the decade with the seventies. The repeated needle-drop of Sweet song “Fox on the Run” – actually released in 1974 – is the most blatant example. It explains why the results are a bit of a mess. A well-intentioned mess, to be fair, and you can usually see what they are aiming for. However, throwing a character in solely so they can refer to eighties films like Commando and Cobra, is painfully clunky, and is a more accurate reflection of the approach in which this indulges.

It takes place, as noted, in some vaguely historical period, where troubled teenager Fox (Shipka) runs away from junkie single mother, and younger sister Spooky. She’s taken under the wing and becomes the lover of Goldie (Ritter), a criminal entrepreneur. But after she catches an apparent glimpse of Spooky, Fox feels guilty at abandoning her sibling. She lifts a large duffel-bag of drugs, stolen by Goldie in association with her corrupt cop partner, Billy Breaker (Sutherland) and goes on the lam, looking for Spooky. Naturally, neither Goldie nor Breaker are pleased by this development, and set out to recover their ill-gotten gains. However, Fox has allies on her side too, including ex-combat medic Frankie, who has a Lebanese almost but not quite brother (the film fan mentioned).

While in pre-production on this, Tabet said, “I plan on genre-bending: gut-punching, pulpy, queer stories told with a habibi flare.” Well, apart from having to look up what “habibi” means – and I’m still confused what was intended there, in relation to movies – I guess this kinda works? It’s not very genre-bending, with a random, one-off breaking of the fourth wall at the start the closest we get. And I didn’t feel like it provided any punches to the gut, beyond a gentle tap regarding something regarding Spooky. Pulpy and queer? More so: indeed, it does seem at times like the script is more intent on ticking diversity boxes – not something exactly common in the eighties – than telling a story. This is my unsurprised face, that the film ended up on Netflix. 

It was a little ironic watching Sutherland playing a lawman, the day after his arrest for allegedly assaulting an Uber driver. Such things aside, there are some positives. Ritter makes for a decent villainess, and Mishel Prada is so much fun as Frankie, I’d perhaps have preferred the film to have focused on her story (the synchronised nunchaking was my personal highlight). But for every step forward, there are two back: Chung’s newly-transferred cop character serves no real purpose, and is just a cliché on legs; the same goes for Goldie’s henchwomen. There was more to the eighties (and to eighties action movies as well) than training montages. I should know.

Dir: Sophie Tabet
Star: Kiernan Shipka, Krysten Ritter, Kiefer Sutherland, Jamie Chung

Notebook Mysteries ~ Emma, by Kimberly Mullins

  By

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

This begins with the Great Chicago Fire, an 1871 conflagration which killed around three hundred people. One of those is the mother of Emma Evans, and ten years later she’s a bright, inquisitive 16-year-old. She works part-time in the family bakery her mother previously ran, and also helps our her civil engineer father, but is also learning more… unusual skills, such as escapology and self-defense. These come in handy, as when she’s out carrying out deliveries with her friends Tony and Tim, Emma’s observational skills allow her to notice suspicious behaviour. When she has gathered enough evidence, she can then pass matters on to the appropriate authorities.

However, these activities don’t exactly win her friends in the criminal underworld, and she gradually discovers that her mother’s death might not have been the terrible accident it appeared to be. There’s also the matter of an unknown person who is clearly keeping a very close eye on Emma’s daily activities. Are they doing so for good or evil? All is eventually revealed – though oddly, after what feels very much like it should have been the climax, the book then meanders on with another investigation for another half-hour. Truly anti-climactic, literally. Mind you, I was still coming to terms with the facile ease Emma kills someone during that confrontation. While arguably justified, she does not seem particularly bothered about it afterward.

The historical setting, nineteenth century Chicago, was a fresh one, and this was quite evocatively handled [though I’m disappointed my Kindle copy didn’t contain the baking recipes other reviews indicate were present! I checked. Twice.]. There are some elements which feel like they don’t quite fit with society of that time: everyone seems remarkably chill with Emma learning how to throw knives like a circus performer, and going out with one strapped to her leg. Formal education also seems notable by its absence, despite Emma being smart and from a middle-class background. It does feel a little “young adult”-ish, perhaps aimed even at an early teen crowd. Which is interesting, because later books in the series definitely have Emma all grown-up. I wonder if the language matures with her.

It all feels a fraction too sanitized for my tastes, with only an occasional suggestion of actual peril for her heroine, despite her poking her nose into some potentially dangerous locations. The main antagonist is… Well, there isn’t really one specifically, it’s more of a nebulous concept of “organized crime in Victorian Chicago.” There were some twists I didn’t see coming, and appreciate the way that not everyone was as good, or bad, as they initially appeared – our heroine’s skills at observation definitely don’t extend to reading people’s intentions! While I didn’t dislike this, there were not sufficient positives for it to come close to interesting me in further installments. It’s very much a one and done.

Author: Kimberly Mullins
Publisher: JKJ Books, available through Amazon, both as a paperback and an e-book
Book 1 of 7 in the Notebook Mysteries series.

Rogue Angel

  By

★★
“Time is not on its side.”

There is certainly something laudable taking on the challenge of making a feature film in seven days, and on a budget of seven thousand dollars. Doing so, and coming out the far end with anything remotely watchable, requires discipline and commitment. However, it also comes with certain penalties. The end consumer isn’t going to care about any of those constraints. They’re going to look at the screen and see takes which are “good enough,” rather than good, and particularly among the supporting cast, performances by people selected more for availability than talent. I tend to suggest it might be better to put the time and resources into making the best movie you can, rather than the cheapest and/or quickest one. 

Here, we have Angie Baker (Gerhardy), former member of an all-women platoon in the Middle East, who has returned to the town where she was brought up, as her grandmother nears death. There’s a lot of baggage here, including the younger sister she left behind, Lexi (Krause), and the family mine, owned by the grandmother and coveted by certain other relations. Most significantly though, is her fraught to the point of non-existent relationship with her father, Jake (Woodman). There was an incident – we find out the details right at the end – which is why Angie left. And is why Jake ends up buried alive in the woods. Hey, his coffin does have a breathing tube: Angie is not a monster… 

This was Daly’s first feature, according to the IndieGoGo page, and while I have certainly seen a lot worse, you can tell that’s the case, along with the limitations of the schedule and budget. The highly unconvincing attempt to be Afghanistan should have been canned, for instance, and there is an inconsistency of tone in Angie’s character. Particularly at the end, she goes full Rambo, gouging out eyes and slicing off body parts, in a way that seems out of place. Admittedly, at that point we aren’t aware of the full truth – which may or may not justify such nastiness: I’d have preferred to know from the start, bringing us along on her journey of revenge. Trimming 15-20 minutes would have made for a tighter and leaner product too.

It’s interesting to note this was written and directed by a woman: not often the case in the movies we review. Although it’s not often the case in action film-making generally: without being prejudiced, the fact is that women tend to gravitate to other genres. Perhaps as a result, Daly does bring a different perspective to this, though it’s one which paints with a broad brush: about the only man here who isn’t a Neanderthal is the local sheriff (Fowlks). As a starting point, this is okay – it is obviously a start, however, and is likely more successful as a learning experience than as a feature, only occasionally achieving any genuine emotional connection. I would be curious to see what Daly could do, when she takes her time. 

Dir: Brenda Daly
Star: Jackie Gerhardy, Sheila Krause, Dan Fowlks, Allen Woodman

The Cost of Something Priceless

  By

★½
“The Price of Something Worthless”

I think it was the start of the closing credits where I realized why I disliked this so intensely. The film describes itself as, “A Flick by Adam ‘Ace’ Silva.” There’s hardly a part of that which does not make me cringe. Having the nickname “Ace” is one thing: it should only apply if you’re a sixties test-pilot. But putting it in your film is… yeah. Then there’s calling your movie a “flick”. No. Just no. It’s an attitude which, in hindsight, infuses the entire production. But what do you expect, when Silva didn’t just direct it. He also wrote it, edited it, did the cinematography and composed the music. All one hundred and eleven minutes of it. 

The story is about as much of a mess as the movie poster, with a lot of ideas, and woefully little idea of how to put them into a coherent structure. The heroine is Carmen (Maya), whom we first meet ripping off a former boyfriend for some drugs and money, leaving him for dead in the street. Key words, “leaving him for”. He’s not actually dead, and nor is he happy about it. Naturally, retribution is on his mind, and from this spirals off a slew of violent incidents and kooky characters, such as a weird, bald assassin with a foot fetish. Meanwhile, Maya attempts to make her way through the carnage and be re-united with her long-lost daughter, alongside somewhat faithful sidekick Tobias Anderson (Swain).

It’s not so much a question of being unable to figure out what’s going on, and more a case of finding myself unable to give a damn. Carmen isn’t a nice person to begin with. Had we, for example, been given an indication of her maternal leanings early on, that would have been something on which we might have been able to hang our empathy. Instead, we are repeatedly told how she doesn’t care for anyone else, although this is painfully apparent from the get-go. Rather than developing other characters, the film flings them at us, quickly getting bored and moving on the next. Some do have potential, such as the double-act who refer to themselves as Jack and Jill. Don’t expect much more.

I will say, there is plenty of the old ultraviolence. But the execution leaves a lot to be desired, with some of the worst digital muzzle-flashes I’ve ever seen. The last 20 minutes are a parade of completely unconvincing gun battles, with no noticeable damage to property at all. The fisticuffs are better, simply because they don’t need to have digital garbage pasted on top. Carmen does kinda look like the sort of person who would kick your butt: both she and Jill (Krueger) seem to do a fair amount of wandering around in their bras, which is not unpleasant. However, it all becomes a chore, long before an ending which came as more a relief than anything else.

Dir: Adam Silva
Star: Lina Maya, Davone Swain, Steven Staine Fernandez, Jessica Krueger

American Woman

  By

★½
“Doctor in the house.”

I guess some credit is due here for going against type, at least. Molly Reese (Stack) is not your typical vigilante. She’s actually a doctor who works in an emergency room, and suffers a debilitating mental blow when her husband and daughter are both killed in an accident. She subsequently goes to a very dark place psychologically, telling her therapist she has thoughts about killing people. This is particularly unfortunate, after she is unable to save a local mob-boss, and his gang decide she is to blame. For Molly gets to put all those murderous impulses into action, under the guise of self-defense, and then proceeds to take the fight to the gangsters, all the while becoming increasingly unstable. 

It’s an interesting concept, and the potential is there: a doctor using her medical skills in ways of which the Hippocratic Oath would not approve. As noted, she doesn’t initially look like a crazed vigilante, and that might have been leveraged to good effect. However, the execution here is flat-out terrible, in a variety of ways. Stack as the protagonist isn’t particularly one of them, though her descent into insanity is largely depicted by Molly pulling increasingly deranged faces, and steadily worse hair-styles. It’s everything else. For example, the gangsters, who could not be a more shallow cliche of Italians if they tried. We know they are gangsters, because the restaurant where they hang out plays Nessun Dorma on a loop, I kid you not. 

Their competence leaves a huge amount to be desired too, perpetually losing fights – both gun and hand-to-hand – against a middle-aged physician with no previous experience. This makes them largely useless as villains, since they’re no threat. Though Mikey (Rosing), the one mostly in charge of hunting Molly, at least looks the part, ponytail and all. However, the actual battles are terribly staged, such as a lengthy gun-battle in a bowling alley, where none of the bullets seems to hit anything at all. There’s another member of the gang, Vito (Zambrano), who seems to have a thing for Molly. Don’t worry, since this proves to be of no significance. It’s all unfocused and poorly structured, up until an ending so abrupt, it suggests everyone involved suddenly realized they’d made a terrible mistake.

Probably the worst thing in the movie though, is Mollie’s neighbour, David (Tyler). I’m not sure if this depiction of a mentally-challenged individual was intended to provide humourous relief. If there’s blackface and brownface, is there such a thing as “retardface”, where someone pretends to be intellectually disabled for comedic purposes? Even if Tyler is genuinely like that (doubtful), it’s horribly exploitative, and would be among the most cringe-inducing portrayals of the year. It sums up a severely misbegotten adventure, that might have worked better as a short. It certainly has “Not ready for first feature” written all the way through it. Although for writer-director Siegel, the only way from here is up. 

Dir: Artie Siegel
Star: Katelin Stack, Joe Rosing, Frank Zambrano, Vic Tyler

Paradise

  By

★★★
“Death in Paradise”

Despite coming in as a “Tubi Original” – a badge which has previously been as much a warning as an incentive – this isn’t bad at all. It doesn’t especially push any envelopes, yet what it does, it does well enough, and with sufficient variations on the theme to keep me interested. Ella Patchet (Allison) is the daughter of Dan, the local police chief on the island of Paradise (it was shot in Hawaii). She’s rather hot-headed and a big fan of guns, to the concern of her father, who prefers to do his job without being armed. He gets tipped off about the return to Paradise of the gang led by Lee Paige, whom he ran off the island years previously. Shortly after, Dan turns up dead.

Needless to say, Ella is not happy, and vows to bring Paige to justice, despite the warnings of local mayor Calvin Whitney (Donovan), who does not want her going all vigilante. His concerns are not Ella’s concerns, to put it mildly, and she begins working her way up the chain of crime to the reclusive and mysterious Paige. However, you likely won’t be surprised to learn there are surprises for her on the way, and things aren’t exactly as they initially appear. From the opening credits, it’s clear that Isaacson is going for an “ocean Western”, for want of a better word. He largely succeeds: you could relocate this to 1860’s Texas without too much effort, though it’s beach-centric.

Patchet makes for an interesting heroine, whom we first meet getting thrown out of a bar. In some ways, she acts like she is about fifteen, but in others comes across as very mature. Certainly, she’s an unstoppable force, who’s both intelligent and driven. It’s definitely a case where firearms act as a great equalizer. You don’t have to suspend your disbelief about a smaller woman taking down larger men, because she simply shoots them in the head. This is undeniably violent, Ella racking up a fair body-count, and it works both ways, with a couple of unexpected, almost shocking deaths. There’s a scene-stealing turn from Tia Carrere, while I  enjoyed the villain’s lead henchmen basically saying “Screw this” and walking away.

In general though, the plotting is nothing special: the twists come as far more of a shock to the characters than the viewers. It’s also a little implausible how Ella can leave a trail of corpses, including state police, without becoming the subject of a massive manhunt. [Also, in reality, Hawaii has some of the strictest gun laws in the whole country] It feels as if the script would have benefited from a further revision or two, and if you are paying attention, you’ll work out where the final confrontation is going, a long way before it happens. But between Ella’s charisma and the style with which Isaacson delivers things, it held my attention without these issues becoming problematic. 

Dir: Max Isaacson
Star: Patricia Allison, Tate Donovan, Myles Evans, Adam Lustick

Code Name: Tiranga

  By

★★★
“Moderately spicy.”

This Indian movie flopped at the local box-office, and comes limping onto Netflix with an IMDb rating of just 3.2. Reviews there are largely scathing, calling it “unrealistic.” Oh, sure: but people bursting into song for elaborate musical numbers – that totally happens in Mumbai. To be clear, I love the likes of RRR. But realism, or anything in that solar system, is pretty low down on the list of reasons I watch Bollywood films. This is… well, serviceable, is what I’d call it. It is too long for the material, at 137 minutes, but again – length goes with the territory, it’s more a question whether the film is capable of filling it adequately. Here, not so much, at least in the second half.

The heroine is Durga Devi Singh (Chopra), an Indian spy whom we first meet honey-trapping Dr. Mirza Ali (Sandhu) in Afghanistan, in order to set a trap for terrorist leader, Khalid Omar (Kelkar). The trap fails, but Durga feels bad at having betrayed Mirza, for whom she has genuine feelings. A subsequent mission sees her sent to kill a captured operative, to prevent him from spilling secrets to the Pakistani intelligence agency. She ends up rescuing him instead, but is hurt in the process, which brings her back into the company of the good doctor. During the rescue attempt, Omar’s wife is also killed, a death for which the terrorist blames Durga, and is now prepared to go to any lengths for revenge on her.

As spy stuff goes, it’s all fairly generic, with other threads such as the presence of a mole inside the Indian spy service. There is not much novel or exciting here, but it is carried out with an adequate degree of skill, and really only one particularly gratuitous song, when Mirza goes all karaoke at a wedding for what seems like half an hour. The camerawork is nicely scope, with a lot of exotic locations, and while Chopra won’t be winning any awards for her action, she functions decently. It’s just pleasing to see a genuine Bollywood action heroine in this genre: things like the YRF Spy Universe are typically so macho, they’re in danger of choking on their own mustaches.

The first half definitely works better, with the plot consistently moving forward. The movie feels, from an action point, that it peaks too early, and then lumbers its way through the final hour, before the inevitable face-off between Durga and Khalid, which goes about as you would expect. Things then continue to run on, as the mole’s identity is revealed, and the story rehashed in flashback to that end. I may have been hunting for snacks in the cupboard by this point. There’s a truly weird sequence where the film inexplicably goes into first-person shooter mode for an extended period, which had me trying to figure out if it was entirely CGI. They likely should not have bothered, yet it’s a rare blatant misstep, in a film which seems to pride itself on aggressively mediocre competence.

Dir: Ribhu Dasgupta
Star: Parineeti Chopra, Harrdy Sandhu, Sharad Kelkar, Rajit Kapur

Cloak Games: Thief Trap, by Jonathan Moeller

  By

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

I previously reviewed Moeller’s Ghost in the Cowl, which comes from a different series, and enjoyed this every bit as much. Indeed, I think the premise here is better, rather than the fairly generic (if well-executed) fantasy of Cowl. However, in terms of action, the heroine here is second banana, and just as with Cowl, this consequently falls fractionally short of Seal of Approval. In this case, Earth has been conquered by a race of elves, whose High Queen has taken over and now rules with an iron fist. They had been booted off their home world, and traveled the Shadowlands, the path between the worlds, before breaking the seal to Earth.

Doing so allowed magic to come with them, though elves are largely the only ones allowed to practice it. The human race is now effectively indentured servants or worse. Which brings us to our heroine, Nadia Moran. To save her little brother Russell from a lethal disease, she agreed to work for an archmage called Morvilind. But now, she’s his slave, constrained both by him being the only one keeping Russell alive, and his magical skills which can kill her at any time. He trained her in certain areas, in order to become his personal thief, liberating magic artifacts, antiquities, art, etc. This included spells, of use in these jobs. But she’s not happy about it, wanting freedom for her and Russell.

Her latest task is particularly tricky, stealing an Assyrian tablet from a human industrialist. She’s not given the whole truth about either the object or its current owner, and it becomes apparent someone else is interested in him too. The someone else is Corvus, a sorta-human (it’s complicated…) who has abilities of his own, and handles the action elements here. They eventually agree to team up to help each other’s overlapping goals, but will face threats both temporal and almost indescribably Lovecraftian, emanating out of the Shadowlands. It makes for highly entertaining reading, and at only 180 pages, I raced through it very quickly. For ninety-nine cents, it’s fine, but I would hope further installments offer a little more bang for your $3.99. 

There were a couple of bits of world building which didn’t quite gel. The conquest happened in 2013, and we’re now three centuries past it. But it feels like technology is unchanged: Nadia still drives a sedan, for example. If you consider how radically different life was three centuries ago, it’s odd: maybe the High Queen dislikes innovation? It’s a minor, albeit niggling, glitch in what’s otherwise a fun scenario, with a well-constructed heroine who offers plenty of room for development. And with eleven books to come, that’s certainly necessary! By the end of this one, she has an ally in Corvus, some additional talents of which Morvilind is unaware, and appears slightly closer to achieving her eventual goal of freedom. I’m looking forward to that journey. 

Author: Jonathan Moeller
Publisher: CreateSpace, available through Amazon, both as a paperback and an e-book
Book 1 of 12 in the Cloak Games series.

1 More Round

  By

★★★
“I am Jim’s Complete Lack of Surprise.”

Reading the comments on YouTube, there’s an awful lot of “inspirational” and “motivational” to be found there, and these are not wrong. This is as template-based a sports movie as you can imagine, to the point that it feels almost more like a Victorian melodrama, in terms of its saintly heroine, fighting (literally) for what she believes in. This sort of thing would normally be completely ludicrous, and isn’t helped by James Schafer’s soundtrack, which leaves no orchestral cliché uncued. However… I found a genuine sincerity on display here, helped by a very good performance from Stone, and this really sells the sub-Hallmark conceit at its core. Her character believes, so you do. 

She plays up-and-coming amateur MMA fighter Jackie DeSpain, whose life has issues. She lives with her junkie sister Marie, whose little daughter Grace (Darling), is simply as adorable as a boxful of kittens. This situation preys on Jackie’s mind, causing her to lose a fight against Kate ‘The Killer’ Kinsella, much to the concern of her trainer, Hank (Wade). For when I say “lose”, we’re deep in “beaten to a pulp” territory. Though a positive is, this brings her into contact with hunky doctor Oliver (Akers). After Marie overdoses, Grace is taken away by the authorities, but if Jackie can just win enough fights to turn pro, then maybe she can convince a judge that she should have custody of her niece, while Marie rehabs. 

You should easily be able to figure out from the above, where everything is going to go the rest of the way, and the film does not deviate from that template an iota. Will there be training montages? Could there be an injury threatening to derail Jackie’s plans? Might there be – oh, I’m just speculating here – blossoming romance between Jackie and Oliver? I’ll never tell. But despite the resolute predictability of proceedings, I remained engaged to a greater degree than you would imagine. Lyde has directed a number of films we’ve reviewed here, most recently Scarlett, also starring Stone, and the action here is good. If the MMA fights are somewhat stylized, they’re still credible, and have more impact than I was expecting.

There is, however, a curious lack of any antagonist here: just about everybody is nice: even the social worker who whisks Grace away into the care of the state is quite apologetic about it. Kinsella is likely the closest, yet she is more of an obstacle than an enemy, vanishing completely from the film between her fights against Despain. Despite the lack of dramatic conflict, and a large dose of the review tagline (top) as things wound there way forward, I bought into Jackie’s situation, and unquestionably found myself cheering her on. While this may be the simplest of stories, I found it executed well enough to overcome the limitations of its plot.

Dir: John Lyde
Star: Melanie Stone, Jasen Wade, Isaac Akers, Rosie Darling
[The film is available now on YouTube and is embedded below]

The Stolen Valley

  By

★★½
“Topples over into earnestness”

This feels like a modern Western. I think it was shot up on the borders of Utah and Arizona, since I recognized scenes shot at the Buckskin Tavern, in that area. While contemporary, with relatively minor tweaks, it could easily take place a century or more ago, back when robber land barons were a thing in the Old West. Lupe (Covarrubias) is in desperate straits, with her mother Adamina (Miranda) in need of money to pay for medical treatment she can’t afford. There’s another shock: the father, Carl (Fitzgerald), who Lupe long believed dead, is actually alive, and might be the last chance of getting the necessary funds. So she decides to make the journey to see him.

Barely is she under way – she’s seeking to pawn jewellery to raise a little cash – when she encounters Maddie (Hethcoat). And when I say “encounters”, she comes out of the back of the pawn-shop, guns blazing. For Maddie has a sizable debt too, to some unpleasant people, and now they perceive Lupe as her accomplice. The two young women decide Carl could solve both of their problems, only to find him engaged in a dubious scheme to sell off land, which actually belongs to Adamina, to an oil company, having convinced them Adamina is dead. It’s a move which will result in the indigenous people being thrown off the property, and Lupe’s unexpected presence clearly represents a threat to  the deal. 

This does a lot of things right. Most obviously, it takes place in some gorgeous locations, and the photography does them justice. The performances are generally effective as well, with Hethcoat in particular a lot of fun to watch. She cuts a striking figure with her blonde hair, cowboy hat, and a take no prisoners attitude. Maddie is in sharp contrast to Lupe, who has been brought up “the right way”, and they make for an amusing pairing as they play off each other. Although scenes like the gratuitous flamenco dancing may not move the plot forward, they are still amusing to watch, and they build the character. Indeed, they might be fun precisely because they are separate from the plot. 

Because that’s the film’s problem. It’s a script where far too much happens because the story needs it. Why did Adamina leave without taking the property deed, clearly her most precious asset? Why did Carl hang on, not just to the deed, but also the letter Adamina wrote to her own mother, for over twenty years? And don’t even start me on the remarkable coincidence of Maddie’s background. Add in a not-so subtle subtext of “Men are bad, and white men – they’re the worst“, and it all begins to topple over under the weight of its own moral superiority. I’ve no doubt Edwards’ heart is in the right place. However, the message here too often gets in the way of the movie. 

Dir: Jesse Edwards
Star: Briza Covarrubias, Allee Sutton Hethcoat, Micah Fitzgerald, Paula Miranda