I am quietly co-opting the title of the recent Netflix documentary, for a more general piece on the topic of Aileen Wuornos – arguably the first, and certainly the most infamous, female serial killers. Firstly, I do have some qualms about including her here. After all, she’s certainly not what you’d call an “action heroine”. But a girl with a gun? Definitely. Representing the dark side of that trope, absolutely. But that doesn’t, and shouldn’t, mean people like her shouldn’t be covered here. Especially when, as with Wuornos, they have inspired any number of cinematic works, ranging from the straight-laced documentary to the luridly sensational. Both directions have their own merits.
With that out of the way: was Wuornos, as is often claimed, “the first female serial killer”? That’s largely a matter of definition. There were certainly earlier women who killed indiscriminately, some in much greater numbers than Wuornos’s seven confirmed victims. The most famous would be Countess Elizabeth Báthory – herself the inspiration for many movies – who was accused of killing as many as 600 in 17th-century Hungary. But, in general, multiple murderers seem to have had different motivations depending on gender. Women are more likely to kill for profit; men for sexual gratification.
History precedes her
Indeed, the modern era killer with the highest possible number of victims is a woman – probably one you’ve never heard of. Mariam Soulakiotis, known as ‘Mother Rasputin’, was the abbess of a Greek monastery. She would typically lure wealthy women to the convent, torture them until they donated their fortunes, then kill the “donor”. She also had a scam involving a cure for TB, which inflated her numbers dramatically, albeit through negligent homicide. During her trial, figures of 27 murders and 150 negligent homicides were given, though some suggest the true total for which she bore responsibility was over five hundred. That figure would surpass the tally even of the likes of Pedro Lopez, the “Monster of the Andes”, often regarded as the most prolific serial killer.
Here are a selection of other women, generally regarded as having killed considerably more than Wuornos’s seven victims – and mostly had cool nicknames bestowed upon them in the media. I’ve not included medical personnel like Jane Toppan, because that would be a whole other list.
- 35 victims: Vera Renczi, Romania, “the Black Widow” – poisoned two husbands, multiple lovers, and her son with arsenic during the 1920s. But her existence is unconfirmed, and she may be an urban legend.
- 17 victims: Irina Gaidamachuk, Russia, “Satan in a Skirt” – pretended to be a social worker to gain access to the homes of elderly women, kill them with an axe or hammer, then rob them (pictured, right).
- 16 victims: Juana Barraza, Mexico, “La Mataviejitas (the little old lady killer)” – A former pro wrestler known as “The Silent Lady”; like Gaidamachuk, she targetted old women, bludgeoning or strangling them during robberies.
- 14 victims: Belle Guinness, USA – enticed men to visit her rural property through personal ads. Her crimes were only discovered after her supposed death in a fire, though her fate is unconfirmed.
- 14 victims, Sararat Rangsiwuthaporn, Thailand, “Am Cyanide” – Borrowed money to feed an online gambling addiction, then poisoned those to whom she was in debt.
- 13 victims, Tamara Samsonova, Russia, “the Granny Ripper” – Started killing at age 56. Murdered, dismembered, and in some accounts cannibalized, people in her flat.
- 12 victims, Enriqueta Martí, Spain, “the Vampire of Barcelona” – Self-proclaimed witch that abducted, prostituted, murdered and made potions with the bodies of small children. That’s enough Wikipedia for me.
- 11 victims, Nannie Doss, USA, “the Giggling Granny” – Confessed to killing four of her husbands, her mother, her sister, her grandson, and her mother-in-law by arsenic poisoning.
- 11 victims, Marie Alexandrine Becker, Belgium, “the Belgian Borgia” – Poisoned wealthy clients in order to supplement her income while working as a seamstress.
- 10 victims, Jeanne Weber, France – Strangled ten children, mostly while babysitting them, though also including her own. In the most unsurprising verdict ever, found not guilty by reason of insanity.
Damaged people damage people
If you ever want proof of the above, Aileen Wuornos’s early life would be it. She came from a broken home, her mother filing for divorce from her father shortly before giving birth to her daughter at the age of sixteen. When Aileen was three, her mother abandoned her, and she was taken care of by her grandparents. Who were both alcoholics. Aileen accused her grandfather of molesting her, and by the age of 11, she was sexually active, exchanging her favors for cigarettes and drugs. She became pregnant at 14, and was thrown out her grandparent’s house shortly after giving birth, living rough in woods and turning tricks to survive.
Her life from there through the late eighties, was an all-you-can-eat buffet of more or less petty crime (theft, check forgery, robbery) and suicide attempts. There was also a bizarre marriage at age 20 to the 69-year-old president of a Florida yacht club. This proved short-lived – likely mercifully for everyone – being annulled after nine weeks. In 1986, she met motel maid Tyria Moore in Daytona Beach, and the pair moved in together. But in November 1989, Wuornos killed her first victim, 51-year-old store owner Richard Mallory. She later claimed this was in self-defense, after Mallory attacked her. There may have been some truth in this, because he had been convicted of attempted rape, albeit back in 1957.
However, it’s stretching credulity to accept this also applied to all of the six other men she shot dead, between May and November the following year. Naturally, such a spree did not go unseen, with an increasing media frenzy, especially after a witness reported it was two women she had seen abandoning a victim’s car. Fingerprint evidence – obviously, her dabs were on file in Florida due to her criminal record – helped the net tighten on Wuornos. After the arrest Moore, who had fled to her family home in Pennsylvania, agreed to turn state’s evidence against her lover, in exchange for immunity from prosecution.
In January 1992, she went on trial for the murder of Mallory. After a two-week trial, she was found guilty and sentenced to death. Wuornos subsequently pleaded “no contest” (effectively guilty) or guilty to five other murders, with one left uncharged because the body was never found. She also received the death sentence for those killings. Her attitude and explanation changed dramatically over the years. At some points she stoically maintained the self-defense claim. But at other times, she admitted her guilt, saying in court, “I am as guilty as can be. I want the world to know I killed these men, as cold as ice. I’ve hated humans for a long time. I am a serial killer. I killed them in cold blood, real nasty.”
The wheels of justice ground slowly, as they tend to do in these cases. It was more than a decade after receiving her first death sentence, that Aileen Wuornos was executed, in October 2002. It had taken so long, the state of Florida had switch from the electric chair to lethal injection as the preferred cause of death. Anyone hoping for closure from her final words would likely have been more confused than anything: “Yes, I would just like to say I’m sailing with the rock, and I’ll be back, like Independence Day, with Jesus. June 6, like the movie. Big mother ship and all, I’ll be back, I’ll be back.” To date she has not, in fact, come back.
However, approaching a quarter century since her execution, the ghost of Wuornos still haunts society in a variety of ways, remaining a topic of dark fascination. There have been books, there have been TV investigations, and even an operatic adaptation of her life. There have, naturally, been movies, at all levels. The best-known is 2003’s Monster, which won Charlize Theron an Academy Award for her depiction of the killer. But we also have seen the more lurid Aileen Wuornos: American Boogeywoman. Below, we’ll cover the first fictional retelling of Aileen’s story; a documentary which came out not long after her death; and as evidence of the ongoing interest in Wuornos, a Netflix film about her, released just last October.
Overkill: The Aileen Wuornos Story
★★
“Undercooked and overdressed.”
Less than eleven months after Wuornos was convicted on her first murder charge, this TV movie was broadcast on CBS. If you’re at all familiar with the facts of the case, this won’t have much to offer. It does go a little bit deeper into the police procedural, in the shape of Capt. Steve Binegar (Grimm) and investigator Bruce Munster (James). Interesting that it does depict the FBI’s indifference to the case, the investigation basically being left up to the local cops. This gives credence to an article I read, which quoted an unnamed profiler with the bureau as saying there was no such things as a female serial killer. However, said local law enforcement comes up largely smelling of roses.
I’ve a feeling this may be because some members of the police were actively involved in the production, a fact which caused them some trouble due to the conflict of interest. There were, according to The Selling of a Serial Killer, re-assignments as a result, though nothing more formal appears to have happened. This may also have been based on the story Wuornos’s girlfriend Tyria Moore sold, though I’ve not been able to confirm this. The main problem is simply that a TV movie is a profoundly inappropriate medium in which to tell the story of a serial killer prostitute. Particularly one who was a lesbian, though you would be hard-pushed to work that out here. Aileen/”Lee (Smart) and Tyria (Overall) seem much more like room-mates than lovers.
The limitations of the form mean that we don’t really get to see much of… anything, to be honest. The formative influence of Wuornos’s appalling childhood is only seen in a couple of murky flashbacks. The killings themselves come nowhere near the description of them by the authorities as brutal. The closest we get to the grubbiness required for an authentic portrayal is probably the chaste shower scene in which Aileen examines her wounds, behind which we get entirely inappropriate sexy sax music. Though let’s face it: as the picture above proves, Smart and Overall are both far too conventionally pretty, despite being somewhat uglified up. I did laugh at how even the witness sketch impressions of the pair were prettier than the ones actually used by the police.
As long as you’re fine with an obviously watered-down idea of the story, this isn’t terrible. The actors generally do a good job: I’m not familiar with Smart, but there are points when she is able to capture the body language and mannerisms of the real Wuornos effectively, and her performance does balance between making Aileen sympathetic and demonizing her. I also liked James, an actor I know more from villainous roles such as his replicant in Blade Runner. Seeing him here as a smart detective certainly felt against type. But the whole endeavour feels like a jar of “hot” supermarket salsa. You expect to get something spicy, only to find it has relentlessly toned down for mass-market consumption.
Dir: Peter Levin
Star: Jean Smart, Park Overall, Tim Grimm, Brion James
Aileen: Life and Death of a Serial Killer
★★★★
“Lethally blonde.”
This is Broomfield’s second documentary around the topic of Aileen Wuornos, having previously made Aileen Wuornos: The Selling of a Serial Killer. It’s a glorious doc – one of my all-time favorites – but is more tangential, being about those around Wuornos, seeking to exploit her situation for their own personal gain. He thought he was done with the topic, but he was called as a defense witness during Aileen’s final appeal against the multiple death sentences, largely because among those exploiters was her lawyer at the time, Steve Glazer. But around appearing in the witness box, Broomfield decided to make a second documentary, this time focusing on the woman at the centre of proceedings, all the way up to her execution by lethal injection in October 2002.
What I love about Broomfield’s work is, he goes where the story leads him. Some documentarians – and I’m looking at you, Michael Moore – go into production with An Agenda (caps used advisedly). They then craft the end product towards that agenda. To me, that’s less a documentary than propaganda. Broomfield seems to have a much more open mind, and the results sometimes end up going in unexpected directions. Here, it’s clear that he has sympathy for Wuornos, but doesn’t pull any punches about her personality and mental state. He presents footage both of her claiming self-defense and absolutely confessing to having committed cold-blooded murder. The scary thing is, Wuornos appeared to me to be highly credible in each, contradictory situation. Maybe I’m just easily fooled. Sobering.
Certainly, there is evidence of Aileen’s anger issues. During his final interview, we see how she can go from calm discussion to volcanic ferocity in short order, for little or no reason, and storming out while flipping Broomfield the bird. If there had been a firearm to hand during this outburst… Yeah, watching this, the idea of her killing seven in less than a year definitely seemed possible. Rage and easy access to guns is a dangerous combination. But as the film proceeds, it appears Wuornos’s mental situation deteriorates into frequent surges of paranoia, claiming mind-control weapons are being used on her, and that the cops knew who she was after the first murder, and let her continue killing so they could exploit things in the media.
Should someone so clearly ill in the head be executed? Political considerations – it being an election year, with the governor wanting to appear strong on crime – appear to have overridden any judicial concerns. A cursory mental exam pronounced her fit to die, and the sentence was duly carried out. On that day, Broomfield was interviewed by the media (a classic case of the snake eating its own tail). He said, “Here was somebody who is has obviously lost her mind, has totally lost touch with reality. We’re executing a person who’s mad, and I don’t really know what kind of message that gives.” As someone not averse to the death penalty, this documentary certainly made me pause for thought, and that alone proves its quality.
Dir: Nick Broomfield and Joan Churchill
Aileen: Queen of the Serial Killers
★★
“More of a propamentary.”
This would likely have benefited had I not watched Life and Death the previous night, because any comparison does not work in this documentary’s favour. Titled on the print just Aileen, forgetting that awkward serial killing thing, this is less balanced, and skews heavily towards Wuornos as victim – of the legal system, her clients and life in general. “Actually, she was made, and that’s chilling,” said co-director Turner, apparently opting to ignore the concept of free will. The bias is apparent, in the way the film concentrates heavily on Wuornos’s first murder, that of Richard Mallory. While that is the only one where there was a full trial, it’s also the only one where I think there’s credible evidence to support her claim of self-defense. The film barely mentions the other six victims.
I won’t argue that prosecutors did everything they could to obtain a conviction. That would be… their job? The footage of a reporter quizzing lead prosecutor John Tanner about Mallory’s sexual assault conviction in the fifties, just made me wonder, how the heck Wuornos’s team didn’t pick up on this? Checking the background of the victim for something like that seems like Defense Lawyering 1.0.1. In general, though, Turner and Cunningham are largely re-treading the same ground as Nick Broomfield: indeed, some footage here appears to be repurposed from his films, or at least comes from the same sources. I was a little surprised how this largely glossed over Wuornos’s upbringing, which I’d have to consider a huge factor in her issues.
The new stuff is mostly from Australian film-maker Jasmine Hurst, who corresponded long-distance with Wuornos for year, and interviewed her in 1997. I felt she was the whole endeavour’s weakest aspect. Her adoration for the killer is wildly improper from that start, Hurst drooling over Wuornos: “She’s like the trifecta. Gay, female, sex worker. And killing white men.” Hey, it is the Netflix trifecta, anyway. Later on, Hurst delivers this doozy of a statement: “It didn’t matter to me at all if none of the men had raped her. Those men may not have raped her in the moment, but they are icons of previous rapists that she didn’t fight against.” That the makers saw fit to leave that comment in the movie, says a lot about their agenda.
For, make no mistake, an agenda is what we have here, and what differentiates it most sharply from Broomfield’s work. Turner and Cunningham aren’t seekers after truth. They are convinced they know it, and want to drag the viewer to agree. That’s why we get comments on Reddit about the film like, “I feel so dumb for falling for the Aileen is evil stuff. This doc changed my mind completely.” More than one thing can be true, y’know. Yes, she did not receive a fair trial. Yes, she had a rough life. But she was also evil, and an incredibly angry sociopath. Not that you’d know it from the footage here, almost all showing Wuornos at her most serene.
Dir: Emily Turner, Kirsty Cunningham
If you had told me, when I wrote the 
Alpha (April 17)
Mardaani 3 (February 27)
Ready or Not 2: Here I Come (April 10)
Welcome to our sixteenth annual round-up of girls with guns calendars. Dear lord, I have grandchildren younger than this feature. :) Not an enormous amount has changed since last time. Plans to move appear to have gone on the back burner for now. In part because our son has moved back in with us. I was assured, by a variety of sit-coms, that hilarity would ensue from this scenario. But it appears to have led purely to significantly increased Internet usage, and dishes being “left to soak” in the sink. Though our daughter is getting married on New Year’s Eve. Let’s hope it sticks this time, because we are not funding another wedding…
Astrid Lindgren (1907-2002) was an acclaimed Swedish author of children books, probably best known for her Pippi Longstocking books (1945-48). It’s heroine was a “break all the rules” child character, behaving in a way seen as both unthinkable and inacceptable in the 1940s. They were possibly influenced by the earlier Anne of Green Gables books by L.M. Montgomery, but also by the little girls Lindgren knew, as well as her own childhood memories. It is interesting to note that the character was often used by early feminists as a role model – and still is today, by those who are critical of the system. Indeed, it is said that Stieg Larsson’s dark anti-heroine Lisbeth Salander was inspired by Pippi.
In her later life, Lindgren’s novels became more grown-up, though still being written for children, and definitely took on a darker tone. In 1973’s The Brothers Lionheart, she dealt with heavy subjects like suicide, mortality and the trauma of losing a beloved one. It was much discussed at the time of publication, though can with good conscience still be called a fantasy book. Her final, and maybe best, novel was Ronia, the Robber’s Daughter (original title: Ronja rövardotter). This is a return into the Swedish woods Lindgren loved so much. She had to leave her home-town in the province of Småland, after becoming pregnant as a single young woman. She re-located to Stockholm, married and had a second child but never returned. Many of her books play out in small towns, on islands or in fantasy countries, and deal with the loneliness of young children, as well as their friendships and adventures with each other.
But while the movie was beloved, I had problems with it, despite my young age. First of all, the characters looked different from the book illustrations. Ronia, who had dark curls in the book, had long flowing hair; Birk, whose hair was like a copper helmet, had curls. I also found issue with the child actors, in particular, that they seemed much too young. Based on the illustrations and what went on in the story, I always figured Ronia and Birk to be in their early teens: here the actors were 11 years old, and didn’t fit my own inner image of them. The special effects… alright, while you wouldn’t expect something on the level of George Lucas and ILM, I found them unsatisfying, especially the harpies. They were so intimidating and loaded with a frightening, sadistic aura in the book. Here? Actresses in costumes in front of a badly lit green-screen.
Since I always loved the book, through multiple re-readings, I always wished for a better adaptation. Who would have thought that it would come in the form of Japanese anime? Goro Miyazaki, the son of the great Hayao Miyazaki, turned the children classic into a 26-episode series, original running from October 2014 to March 2015. It was a co-production between Dwango, NHK, NHK Enterprises, Polygon Pictures and Studio Ghibli. I believe it is the only TV series Ghibli ever produced, though they did some TV movies. It has to be said – and it’s my one big complaint – that this is not really animated, in the sense of hand-drawn, but is CGI-animated,, and it… uhm… shows. So do not expect the greatness of a typical Studio Ghibli movie, and less still the overwhelming greatness of a Hayao Miyazaki movie. What was not acceptable for a long time, was that it was only available in the West in over-priced DVD volumes, and not everyone is willing to lay out 120 Euro or more. But now, you can get the whole collection for a fraction of that price – or just stream it online.
Inspired by Jim’s impressive research and writing on 
But to discuss Calamity Jane, played by blonde Jean Arthur: while she looks cool in the male Western garb Jane traditionally wears (except when, as so often – here, too – there is a scene where she is convinced to put on a dress), she didn’t quite convince me. Hickok is not on good terms with her here, it being suggested she slept with almost every assistant and post station manager. Honestly, this was not very believable when watching petite, childlike Arthur, who doesn’t seem to be the promiscuous type. Wild Bill is hurt by this, and when the movie is not showing us native Americans, treacherous weapon suppliers or exploring the friendship between the two Bills, she seems to be running constantly behind him like a lovesick teen girl. There’s no denial; this portrayal of Jane feels a bit of a fake.
Young Bill Hickok is a relatively short (just over 50 minutes) early Western, with Roy Rogers. And, yes: he does sing. If the story is nothing extraordinary I felt adequately entertained, considering how old the movie is. In the Civil War, the North wants the war to end, therefore a special gold delivery has to be brought to… ah… some place… I guess? Young Bill Hickok is given the confidence to carry out the dangerous task, with a gang called “the Overland Riders” likely to rob the transport. He sets his transport up as a decoy, while in reality the gold is transported by close friends Gabby Whitaker (George “Gabby” Hayes, an absolute regular in many classic Westerns) and Calamity Jane (Sally Payne). Unfortunately for all, Hickok’s fiance, Louise (Julie Bishop) confides that secret to the villain of the piece, Towers. He then robs the right transport, and frames Hickok, who has to flee and prove his innocence.
So what we have here is a morality tale: don’t gamble, folks, and earn your living by hard work. More interesting for the Calamity Jane fan here, is Hollywood actress Yvonne de Carlo who could be found in a number of historical movies around the time. Her brunette Jane has very little similarity to the way the character is usually depicted. She is no criminal – well, not in the beginning, the sympathetic character of Sam drags everyone down with him – but a successful horse racer. As Sam helps her in the beginning she is attracted to him, just like Katherine. Sam is depicted as a victim of circumstances, but I’m not quite on his side. He must take some responsibility for the tragedy he experiences, since not only is he naive, but thinks the fact others don’t play by the rules, gives him permission to do so, too.
The Texan Meets Calamity Jane (1950)
Ten years after the Doris Day-movie, CBS produced this remake, a TV movie which can be watched 
This was definitely made for a middling budget, and with underwhelming camerawork and staging: the camera positions and actors often appear fixed and immobile, unless they are riding on their horses. But it is a good, original story and provides a satisfying Western. To a large degree, this is due to the interaction and chemistry between the aforementioned actors. The friendship between Hickok and Cody works especially well, with Cody on the side of the raiders while Hickok is bound by his obligations to the military. In the end, they are able to prevent an escalation between the stubborn generals on both sides.
This movie is confusing, a typical German-Italian-Spanish co-production of the mid-60s, and stylistically is best described as a below-average, third-class, German western of that time. Originally titled Aventuras del Oeste (Adventures of the West), in Germany it went under two different titles: The Last Bullet Hits the Best and more prominently as Buffalo Bill – His Greatest Adventure. The IMDb speaks of Buffalo Bill and Wild Bill Hickok, but they can’t be found in the German dub. Buffalo Bill here goes by Bill Hogan, called “the quick knife” by the Comanche, and is played under an alias (Clyde Rogers) by Rik van Nutter, better known as Felix Leiter in Thunderball. Wild Bill is named here Gunn Barrett, and played by Austrian actor Adrian Hoven. He had quite a run of German movies in the 50s and 60s, until he became a director focusing on horror and erotic movies. It’s strange to hear Wild Bill speak with an Austrian accent. But then I’m forgetting that Schwarzenegger would become an American action hero icon!
This TV movie has Jane Alexander, who also co-produced the film, in the main role. While it again has the likely fictional love story between Calamity and Hickok (Frederick Forrest), it is a much more realistic portrayal of Jane, as well as her relationship, then we have seen before. Calamity is saved by Hickok, they begin an affair after she has nursed him and are married by two drunk priests in the desert. They separate as Hickok doesn’t want Calamity “drawn along with him” when going to work in Buffalo Bill’s Wild West show. She bears his child which is adopted by a British couple, the O’Neills (David Hemmings plays Colonel O’Neill). She hears that Hickok has married, but he is shot before she can speak to him, although his murder is barely a sideline here. Later she meets her daughter again, though does not reveal her relationship. 
I don’t like this movie at all, and I think 2 stars is very generous. It has nothing to do with the fact there are a number of Walter Hill films I don’t like, or that Calamity Jane is hardly in the movie. I simply think this movie is not well-told, and is boring. It doesn’t work for me either as a Western, a biopic or a good movie in general. It’s not the fault of the movie stars who are all well-known for their competence. I mean, we have Jeff Bridges as Wild Bill Hickok, plus Ellen Barkin, Diane Lane, John Hurt, Keith Carradine, Bruce Dern, David Arquette and Christina Applegate. I also found the production design very fitting. So, who is responsible for the mess?
The story for this animated film is an interesting one: In 1863, the Cannary family – the father, his daughter Martha Jane (voiced by Salomé Boulven) and two smaller children – are part of a convoy to Oregon. Martha gets into a feud with young boy Ethan, but when one of the wheels of their cart breaks, and her father is hurt by a horse, Ethan has to take over driving. Humiliated by this, she tries to learn things outside what young girls are not supposed to know – throwing lassos, horse-riding and driving the cart. When the settlers meet a soldier named Samson, they realize they have gone the wrong way. She befriends the soldier, until he vanishes with some items stolen from the settlers. Martha leaves to retrieve the items and find the truth about Samson, which is the beginning of an exciting and dangerous adventure.
Introduced by Western movie star Robert Taylor, this “true story of the West” tells how Calamity Jane joins the Wild West show of… Wild Bill Hickok? I can only presume the screenwriter got Wild Bill and Buffalo Bill mixed up. It’s not a positive outlook on their relationship, Wild Bill taking strong issue with Jane’s behavior and shouting. He also tells her if she is a woman she should dress like one, or she will never appeal to a man. Her straight answer is, she always has hated men. When she tells their mutual friend Charlie about Bill’s complaints, he decides sharply that she must have fallen in love with Bill. 
Having seen only season one of the three, I can judge just it. This highly praised HBO show recounts the beginnings of notorious Wild West city Deadwood, before the territory came under the guidance of the government in Washington, and how “problems” were solved there before there was official law. Calamity Jane is clearly not a main character, though has a not unimportant supporting role. The show mainly focuses on saloon and bordello owner Al Swearengen (Ian McShane), a character who really lived and – at least in the show – was responsible for many crimes, murders and shady dealings in that city. There’s also Seth Bullock (Timothy Olyphant) who became the first sheriff there.
This 80-minute French documentary from 2014 ran on the Franco-German culture channel ARTE, a channel well-known for quality docs. I recommend this one, though there may be others from the US I don’t know about, which are just as good. Old photographs, footage from old Westerns, newly directed scenes and interviews with historians and biographers of the old West (among them Richard Etulain, see below), form a vivid, realistic picture of the conditions in that era and life at that time.
Biographies
Calamity became a famous character in print, when she was made a supporting character in the Deadwood Dick dime novels of the 1870s. Since she first captured the attention of an audience there, a slew of books featuring her have come out, ranging from a realistic portrayal to utter fantasy. The classic quality novel might be Larry McMurtry’s Buffalo Girls, whose movie adaptation was covered earlier. 
So, we come to the end of this little overview on Calamity Jane-related Westerns. I learned a lot over the course of it. For example, the majority of film-makers can’t resist inventing a love story between her and Wild Bill, or dressing her up in a skirt, at least for a couple of scenes. Obviously, the latter is to calm audiences and let them know she would be a good housewife if circumstances only would let her. For, you see, she wears male attire only because she has to work in a man’s world, and has no husband yet. Or that for whatever reason, she has been played by an astonishing number of blonde actresses, despite the real Calamity being a brunette. Or that those who play her on the screen have typically been young, very attractive and even sexy while the real person… Well, if you see any photos of the original, such as the one here, you might spot a difference or two!
★★★★½
To be honest though, I really couldn’t tell based on the end product. I have read a lot of criticism suggesting, in brief, “Nobody asked for this.” While that’s dumb – nobody asked for John Wick either – there is an element of truth in it. If they wanted a spin-off, they might have been better using Sofia Al-Azwar, the existing character played by Halle Berry, who was key to one of the best scenes in John Wick: Chapter 3 – Parabellum. It’s worth noting, the script by Shay Hatten, written back in 2017, was not originally part of the Wick universe (although Hatten was inspired by the trailer for John Wick 2), and subsequently got tooled into it. But I wonder, how often are spin-off movies ever successful? Ok, except the Minions franchise. 
It’s borderline awesome, and on occasion, there’s no “borderline” about it. Let’s just say, I will now be looking into acquiring a flamethrower for home defense. Ok, I should explain. There’s a scene where Eve and one of the Cult members have a – bold font, capital letters, please – DUEL WITH FLAMETHROWERS. It’s every bit as epic and wonderful as that sounds, and it escapes me how they could possibly have achieved it, without reducing the entire stunt team to charcoal briquettes. That’s just the action highlight in a film which has a number of them. I was also impressed with the nightclub sequence – is this obligatory for every film in the Wick-iverse? – of Eve’s first mission, as much for the thumping techno tunes, as for the high-quality fisticuffs. 
Hatten 
Right in the middle of us watching this, Chris got a text from our daughter: “I think we rented the wrong version of Ballerina…” Yes, independently, she was watching the same film. The difference is, we understood what we were getting into. We knew this was a mockbuster from infamous purveyor of such things, The Asylum. I thought the concept of people mistaking Asylum movies for the real thing was an urban legend. Courtesy of our daughter, we now know better. Or worse. For this is, of course, not fit to lace up Ballerina‘s shoes, and anyone expecting it will be sorely disappointed. Yet it’s not irredeemable. I’ve seen considerably worse. From The Asylum, in particular. 
Time for our 12th annual preview of what might be to come in the year ahead for action heroine fans. But first, a review of 2024, which was… a mixed bag. On the plus side, 
Ballerina (June 6)
Ji (TBA)
Welcome to our fifteenth annual round-up of girls with guns calendars, though the first three were solely on our late, not-so lamented forum which has gone to the Internet graveyard. But this will still be the twelfth one in the site archives, which is kinda impressive. Another year in the books, and at least a couple of decent theatrical GWG films in 2024, a contrast to 2023. But I am still living in Arizona. Plans to move to North Carolina kinda got squashed courtesy of Hurricane Helene, so we’re now looking at less meteorologically troubled areas. Possibly at altitude here in AZ. But as mentioned last year: “We’ll see…”
The Baztan trilogy consists of three movies, based on the novels by Dolores Redondo. The setting for these is a small area in the Basque country of Spain, not far from the border with France. Much like the small-town English villages such as Miss Marple’s St. Mary Mead, or Death in Paradise‘s Honoré, the murder rate in this charming and picturesque area appears to rival that of a South American war-zone. I guess you can describe the series as Español negro, being a Mediterranean-based version of Nordic noir. Like those, you have a detective with a troubled past, a history that frequently seeps into her current life, They are investigating crimes resulting from what’s unquestionably the darker side of human nature, and the results are uncomfortably close to home.
I’ve traveled a fair bit around Spain and Mediterranean Europe in my time, and the weather was never as unremittingly 
We jump ahead about a year for the second installment. Amaia Salazar (Etura) has now had the baby she announced she was expecting during the first film, and is adjusting to the need for balance between her career and motherhood, with her husband, James. After completing her maternity leave, she returns to work, and is put on a case of church desecration with cult undertones, at the request of the enigmatic Fr. Sarasola (Arias). This is tied to the Cagots, a historically persecuted group native to the region. Simultaneously, there is an ongoing string of murderers committing suicide, each leaving behind a one-word message: “Tartalo”. It’s a reference to a baby-eating giant from Basque mythology, and seems to be linked to the cave of remains found in the previous film.
Oh, dear. I think it’s probably been a very long while since I’ve been so underwhelmed by the finale of a trilogy. All the pieces were in place, after the first two entries, for a grandstand finish to the series. But the script basically fumbles things in every conceivable way, pushing to the front elements that you really don’t care about, while all but discarding things that seemed of crucial importance. There is an effort to tie everything together, with the various crimes from its predecessors being linked into an occult conspiracy in which members of a Satanic circle sacrifice baby girls, and receive worldly power in exchange. This aspect is okay, Amaia having to go up against a group whose power is embedded at the highest levels of local society. The creepiest element is perhaps that the sacrifices seem to