Spies

★★★★
“Red spies delight.”

I stumbled across this Russian TV series on Amazon Prime during our annual freebie month, but not until the final weekend, so wasn’t able to watch it there. Happily, I discovered the entire show has been uploaded to YouTube – embedded below, complete with English subtitles – and it’s well worth a watch. It’s set during World War II, and tells the story of two young women, from diverging backgrounds, both of whom are recruited in 1941, somewhat unwillingly. to act as intelligence operatives, during the early day

The first is Arina Prozorovskaya (Ivanova), a party girl – as in Communist Party, being a true believer whose idealism is tested after her father is accused of activities against the state. Then there’s Zoya Velichko (Ustinova), a criminal who is Nikita‘d out of prison by the spy group’s commander, Major Egorievich Vorotynnikov (Vdovichenkov). Adding to the tension between them: Zoya was involved in a robbery that went wrong, leading to the death of Arina’s mother at the hands of Zoya’s then-boyfriend. The pair end up being the top students in the class, even though training is cut short due to the German invasion. When Vorotynnikov needs two women for a mission, it’s therefore Arina and Zoya who are dispatched to risk everything, on the first of a number of dangerous jobs behind enemy lines.

Once we got past a weirdness about its presentation (we’ll get to this in a moment), both Chris and I thoroughly enjoyed this. The two Svetlanas make their heroines multi-faceted characters, who have fascinating arcs over the dozen 50-minute episodes. Arina becomes far more cynical, largely due to the treatment she and her husband, a member of the Red Army, suffer at the hands of authorities. Conversely, Zoya’s hard exterior, where the only person that matters is her young daughter, gradually softens. She falls for Vorotynnikov’s deputy, Captain Nikolay Petrov (Pronin) – really the first person to have shown genuine affection in her adult life – which helps her become a strong, loyal and fearless agent. Credit is also due to a solid supporting cast:  Vdovichenkov is outstanding as a man forced to navigate between his loyalty to the state and to those under his command, as well as Irina Apeksimova in the role of spy teacher Matilda, a role apparently influenced by Jeanne Moreau’s in Nikita.

It is a little fragmented in the early going, and not initially clear where the focus of the show will lie. However, once it settles on Arina and Zoya, it gets into a very good rhythm. Each mission takes place over a couple of episodes, allowing them to develop without feeling rushed. They’re varied enough to avoid repetition, showcasing different facets of espionage, from reconnaissance and infiltration, through to Arina becoming a “red sparrow”, and having to overcome qualms about being faithful to her husband.  There’s a sense of danger almost every moment (enhanced by my experience of Russian novels, where everyone usually dies tragically!).

This is most apparent in an episode where Zoya helps a badly-injured Petrov through a forest, only for a dramatic reversal at the end, which ranks among the most impactful “bait and switches” in our TV viewing history. This is just one of the memorable moments that will stick in our mind. Another is Arina’s “honey-pot” target, who initially seems decent enough… until he describes to her an incident where his Luftwaffe squadron attacked a civilian target, killing Russian women and children, after he over-rode the objections of his men. The expressions that flicker across Arina’s face as he tells the story, and she is clearly struggling to suppress the urge to stab him repeatedly on her throat, are quite awesome.

In the YouTube version at least (I can’t speak for the Amazon Prime edition), there is an oddity whenever characters speak any language but Russian – mostly German, as in the scene mentioned above. As well as the English subs, that dialogue is also over-dubbed into Russian, and all characters, male or female, get the same male voice. While I believe this is standard practice in that country, it takes a bit of getting used to, especially when it’s two women who are conversing! However, it certainly didn’t significantly interfere with our entertainment.

By the end, Chris and I were completely engrossed and on the edge of our seats as to whether Arina and Zoya would make it out alive. I won’t spoil that, though have to say we felt it was entirely appropriate, and left us emotionally satisfied. If this is in any way typical of Russian television, we’ll have to see what other hidden gems might be out there for us to find.

Dir: Felix Gertskhikov
Star: Svetlana Ivanova, Svetlana Ustinova, Vladimir Vdovichenkov, Evgeny Pronin
a.k.a. Разведчицы

Blaze, by Krista D. Ball

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

“Kiner and I have fought many battles together. All of us knights have seen our closest friends cut down in front of us. Some of us have seen family killed before our eyes. Even the most battle-hardened soldier can lose their minds when the blood flows. Always concentrate on staying alive. Focus on your target. Mourn your friends later. Honor them by staying alive.”

The half-elven Lady Bethany has shattered the glass ceiling for women in the military forces, rising to third in command, a position she has achieved on her own merit. Of course, it probably didn’t hurt that she is daughter of the goddess Apaxia, although her ancestry causes as many problems as it solves. This is due partly to some pesky secret prophecies which outline – in typically vague prophetic ways, with references to the “Diamond” and the “Viper” – Bethany’s very important place in future events, and partly her estranged twin sister, Sarissa. For she has turned to the dark side of magic, insanely jealous of her sister’s success, with the emphasis squarely on “insanely” there…

Meanwhile, Bethany feels a strange attraction to one of the new soldiers she is supposed to be training, the human Arrago, who seems to have a role to fulfill in prophecy as well. Yet what will happen when he finds out about Bethany’s divine origins? This makes for a solid enough bit of fantasy, though I am not certain it stands up to scrutiny. For instance, it’s well into the book before we discover Bethany actually had another sister, Drea, one who was not quite so gloriously barking mad. This was a “Wait, what?” moment, and something you think might have been mentioned when discussing her twin.

The other demerit is for Sarissa. Not that she’s a bad villainess. Quite the contrary: she’s so good at being bad, she’s an amazing scene-stealer. I’d rather have read more about her…ah, interesting world-view, rather than the Bethany-Arrago romance, which never manages to be convincing [I’ve always felt any human/elven romance is going to be on shaky ground, due to the difference in lifespans]. At the risk of treading on spoilers, it’s a real shame it turns out Sarissa isn’t quite the big bad she’s initially painted. That’s a pity, and significantly decreases the odds of me going back for subsequent volumes.

What I did like was Bethany’s interactions with colleagues such as fellow lords Jovan and Kiner: there’s a familiarity in these which rings true (and a crudeness to their humour which is not quite what I’ve experienced from fantasy elves). I just wish we’d been given more evidence of the heroine’s skills. It’s well past the half-way point before we see anything more than the literary equivalent of training montages. When they show up, they’re undeniably impressive – even before she has tapped into her full, literally god-given “power” – and I’d love to see a feature version of this, with Gwendoline Christie playing both sisters. But I do have to wonder how the long, red-haired Bethany mutated into the woman shown on the cover…

Author: Krista D. Ball
Publisher: Amazon Digital Services, available through Amazon, both as an e-book and a paperback
a.k.a. Tranqulity’s Blaze
Book 1 of 5 in the Tranqulity series.

ExPatriot

★★★
“National insecurity”

Riley Connors (Kane) is a CIA analyst, who quits her job and blows the whistle on secret government surveillance programs. Having pulled an Edward Snowden, she hides out in Colombia, helped by the reporter who broke her story. Her peace is short-lived: a knock on the door proves to be a local cop, working in conjunction with Bill Donovan (Weber), her former CIA colleague and lover. He comes with a proposition. Help them take down a pair of shady Cuban banking brothers (Espitia and Browner) who are suspected of funding domestic terrorism, and she’ll be able to return to the United States, with the slate wiped clean. It’s a very risky proposition, even if her reputation as an enemy of the state might be the perfect “in” to the targets’ organization. But can Bill be trusted either?

Probably wisely, it avoids too much in the way of potentially lethal (and largely irrelevant) political commentary. Though the main twist, to be honest, is so obvious, I have to wonder what kind of vetting the CIA does for its employees, and also about the overall accuracy of the term “intelligence community”. Yet, in something of a contradiction, once this clown-sized narrative shoe finally drops, it makes for a more straightforward and effective narrative the rest of the way. Everyone’s true motives have been exposed, rather than the murky world of spy vs. counterspy which the first half of the film has largely inhabited. That section feels a little like an episode from Alias with Sydney Bristow going undercover, climaxing in Riley trying to transfer all the brothers’ ill-gotten funds out of their accounts, before one of them arrives in their office.

As such, it does take a fair amount of disbelief suspension. Would any group of shady bankers employ an ex-spook as a security consultant – particularly one who was too morally high-minded for the CIA? Inevitably, one of the brothers falls for her, causing some friction between her and Bill, who still blames her for walking out on him, yet simultaneously still carries a flame for Riley. I think the latter half works better, showcasing some above-average location work, in and around Bogota, ending up on top of Mount Monserrate with its giant status of Christ [when I first saw this, I though we were in Rio!]. Oddly, this is the second film I’ve recently seen which was filmed there, for no particular reason, after The Belko Experiment.

Kane was also familiar to me, having played the ex-girlfriend of serial killer Paul Stagg in The Fall, though is rather different here, to the point I didn’t recognize her. It makes for solid, if unspectacular, entertainment which site a couple of F-bombs away from being a decent TV movie. While predictable, it’s well-enough constructed, and Riley makes for an interesting character, one whose scruples could end up being the (literal) death of her. There is a certain amount of bait and switch here, in that the Snowdon-esque escapade of the opening, ends up not being particularly relevant to the main plot: I can see how it could have been eliminated without much tweaking of the plot. However, what the film gains from this, likely balances out any losses, although it probably helps I had no fore-knowledge of the specifics. I see a sleeve with a girl and a gun, it goes on the list…

Dir: Conor Allyn
Star: Valene Kane, Charlie Weber, Mario Espitia, Andres Ogilvie Browne

Fighting Belle

★½
“Hell is belles.”

Oh, dear. A misbegotten concept – Sweet Home Alabama crossed with Rocky – doubles down with shaky execution, and a non-stop parade of painfully obvious cliches in both characters and plot, to startlingly poor effect. As evidence of the first, imagine a film about a man, dumped by his girlfriend, who decides that beating her up is appropriate revenge. This would not exactly be anyone’s idea of comedy gold. But the makers here think that, simply by reversing the genders, it becomes so. They are very much mistaken. I believe I laughed once.

The heroine is southern belle Delilah (Harthcock), veteran of many a beauty pageant: we can tell, because virtually every scene sees her wearing a “Miss Mint Julep” sash or similar. Yeah, guess I’ll quote the master of sarcasm, Edmund Blackadder: “I thank God I wore my corset, because I think my sides have split.” Anyway, she is jilted at the altar by asshole fiancé Kelvin (Czerwonko), and decides to get back at him by challenging her ex, a former pugilist, to a boxing match. She goes to the local gym, convinces the sceptical Tandy (Cook) to train her, and…

Well, you can guess the rest. Trust me: the previous statement isn’t critical hyperbole. You could literally write down ten plot points that have been done to death in this kind of film, and I’d wager at least seven of them would be delivered here. Family opposition? Check. Delilah falls for Tandy? Check. Befriends the gym’s tough girl, Slice (Pierre)? Check. Heart-warming finale? Double-check. That this manages to take an hour and fifty-one minutes to get there, however, is testament to some impressively meandering story-telling. It likely doesn’t help that you can see the eventual destination coming, from a very long way off.

The budget here was reportedly $15,000, and it shows. This is especially true in the department which is the bête noire of low-budget film-making, audio. It’s echoey in one scene, muffled in the next, and the incidental music score often cuts abruptly at the join, making the transitions more abrupt instead of smooth.  It’s some credit that Harthcock’s performance manages to overcome these problems, at least to some degree, and the perky Delilah is generally the best thing the film has to offer [the sole time I laughed, as mentioned above, was when she spat out a taunt, along the lines of “Why aren’t you married yet? Wasn’t your brother available?”]

However, it’s a performance which sticks out like a sore thumb when put beside the rest of the cast, with Tandy in particular so understated, he should be checked for a pulse. The vast bulk of the attempts at comedy fall painfully flat, the romance between the two leads is sadly lacking in chemistry, and the efforts at portraying the boxing and Delilah’s training are 95% unsuccessful. There are any number of potentially interesting directions this could have gone: instead, the script sticks to a painfully well-travelled path, and ends up going down for the count.

Dir: Sean Riley
Star: Jessica Harthcock, Noah Cook, Ryan Czerwonko, Donnie Pierre

Bancroft: season one

★★★½
“The thin grey line.”

When young detective Katherine Stevens (Marsay) gets assigned a batch of cold cases by her boss, Clifford Walker (Edmondson), it seems a task of little interest. The batch includes the brutal stabbing murder of a young woman, 27 years previously – coincidentally, the first cop on the scene, Elizabeth Bancroft (Parish), is now a senior officer. Indeed, she’s competing with Walker for the job of soon-to-retire Detective Chief Superintendent, and bringing down local crime boss Athif Kamara would all but guarantee her the job. So, nothing will be allowed to stand in Bancroft’s way. Not Walker, and certainly not a rookie detective, poking her nose into cases which should stay closed. Because three decades of forensic advances mean that the murder Stevens has re-opened may no longer be quite as insoluble as it was…

The fact that the show’s title is Bancroft, and not “Stevens”, tells you where the focus is here, on the villainess – or, you could perhaps argue, anti-heroine. Perhaps the closest comparable show I can think of is Dexter, particularly in that both shows have a central character who hides their true nature in the police force. In Bancroft’s case, the murderous tendencies have also been very deeply buried; however, it comes out again when her position is threatened by Stevens’s investigation. Yet there’s plenty of evidence of her generally “flexible” morality, shall we say. For instance, she brokers an agreement with Athif’s younger brother, letting him take over, in exchange for information on his sibling and a tacit agreement to co-operate with her in future. The logic is pure pragmatism: someone you know, and can control, is better than a wild-card. It makes for fascinating viewing.

Bancroft is also very manipulative, as can be seen in her relationship with the impressionable Stevens. At least initially, the younger police officer looks up to her as a role-model, and that makes it easy for Bancroft to twist Stevens to her ends, such as withholding evidence discovered from Walker. But over the arc of the four 45-minute episodes which form the first series, Stevens shows dogged persistence and determination as well, and gets a crash course in maturity. As well, perhaps, as one in striking a balance between your career and your personal life, something with which Bancroft appears always to have struggled.

The main thing preventing this from getting a higher rating, and likely our seal of approval, is the unsatisfactory final episode, which simply leaves too many loose ends dangling – not least the one resulting from the picture above. The show has been renewed for a second series: fortunate, because if it hadn’t, the inadequate conclusion offered would have caused us to join the large mob with torches, marching on the producers’ building.  To be honest, the four-part arc was likely too short to tell the story they wanted to, and it might be fairer to judge this after the next batch of episodes. But in its title character, there’s plenty to appreciate, offering the kind of woman still rarely seen on television, and is alone enough to ensure we’ll be tuning back in.

Creator: Kate Brooke
Star: Sarah Parish, Faye Marsay, Amara Karan, Adrian Edmondson

Vampariah

★★★½
“Not half bad.”

I should start by explaining the above tagline. The main monster here is the aswang, a female vampiric creature from Philippines folklore. Its main distinguishing feature, is that after passing for human during the day, at night it splits its body in two, and the top half then flies around, killing people and eating their entrails, using a super-long tongue. There is a secret group, tasked with keeping mankind both safe and unaware of these, as well as any other creatures that go bump in the night. One of its top agents is Mahal (Dennis), who has a particular interests in aswangs (aswangii?), since she blames them for the death of her father.

When word of one operating in San Francisco reaches her organization, she begs its head, Michele Kilman (Deleon) for the chance to track down and kill it. However, when Mahal locates Bampinay (Almario), the aswang in question, she’s in for a shock, and her entire worldview is turned upside down. Mahal learns the disturbing truth, both about her own heritage and the group for whom she operates. Maybe she isn’t working for the good guys, after all, and the aswang are just… misunderstood?

To be honest, the budget here is some way short of being capable of pulling off the level of effects necessary to do the ideas justice. This is particularly obvious in the aerial battles, which would be okay, if only this were a mid-priced Xbox game and not a feature film. However, the invention and energy present make it relatively easy to set aside the frequently ropey technical aspects, and embrace the well-considered world and its characters. To build things, Abaya adopts a slew of different styles from silhouettes to mockumentary. The latter is used for one of those monster shows, in which an American goes to the Philippines in search of the aswang (he perpetually mispronounces it as “ass wang” – it’s actually more like “ah-SWANG”), only for it to find him first…

The film is continually inventive like this, with another new facet appearing every few minutes, such as the hopping vampires, familiar from Hong Kong movies of the eighties (brief pause to pour one out for the late Lam Ching-Ying, the doyen of that genre!). It is possible you might get more out of it if you are familiar with the culture already, and there are plenty of digs at the West, in particular Western men. Bampinay has no trouble feeding entirely on sleazeballs and politicians who deserve to have their guts gobbled down by a flying half-woman. If you’re so inclined, there are some interesting subtexts about cultural identity and gender to unpack as well.

Yet it remains highly accessible, with characters who are universal and fun to be with. In particular, there’s Mahal, who is probably the closest thing to a female version of Blade I’ve seen, with buckets of attitude, and them some to spare. At one point she spits at a misogynistic colleague, “Why don’t you go find yourself a chupacabra to fuck?” This was likely the moment at which I let go of my doubts and climbed on board for the ride. Do the same, and you’ll have fun.

Dir: Matthew Abaya
Star: Kelly Lou Dennis, Aureen Almario, Arlene Joie Deleon, Roberto Divina.

Dark Iris

★★½
“Two into one will go.”

The Hyde Project was a secret government experiment to create artificially-enhanced super-soldiers. Due to difficulty controlling their aggressive tendencies, it shut up shop, but not before 13 of them escaped. They are now being hunted down by a pair of MI-6 agents, Damion Crow (Kyle Hotz) and Lina Petrov (Jensen). Connected to this, somehow, is Iris Black (Newberry). She’s a put-upon barista, with a cheating boyfriend, sleazy boss, alleged stalker – and an increasing body-count of the people around her, the corpses being tagged with religious symbols, in line with the work of an active serial killer. This quickly brings her to the attention of the FBI, in particular Agent Fry (Osborne) and her partner, who have been hunting the killer. They’re not exactly prepared for what they will discover.

I have… questions. Mostly, what the hell is actually going on, since the plot never does a very good job of explaining itself. Why are two (supposedly) MI-6 agents hunting down the renegades? Why is one of them sporting a very obvious Russian accent? [Though in outrageousness, Jensen hardcore Natasha-ing is surpassed by Hotz’s spectacularly fake Britishness] Where does the religious iconography fit in? Are the renegades unable to suppress their violent urges, or are they not? Because there’s no consistency there. They don’t appear to be particularly enhanced either: I’d have expected considerably more strength, speed or general bad-assery for my black budget tax dollars.

Mind you, maybe they are. It’s hard to tell, because the action here is borderline terrible: poorly-lit and even less well edited, reducing it all to an incomprehensible jumble of images. The film’s salvaging grace is the characters, who are rather more fun to watch than the plot. Fry has a super-snarky streak, Osborne coming over as a low-rent version of Melissa McCarthy, which is by no means a bad thing, and while I may have sniped at Jensen’s accent, her portrayal of Petrov is an engaging one. Tack this pair on to Black, who may or may not be a super-soldier, and the film certainly has no shortage of adequately action-oriented female characters.

Unfortunate that the mis-steps outnumber the positives. For example, a character gets a lengthy, heroic scene of self-sacrifice. Which might have worked better, if the audience had been given any significant reason to care about them up until that point. The film also tries to divide its attentions over several different areas of focus: Black, the FBI investigation and the MI-6 agents. This ends up diluting each, leaving them all feeling considerably under-developed and falling short of generating real interest. It’s just about an acceptable way to pass the time: I can imagine it turning up on the SyFy channel on some Saturday afternoon down the road, and they’ve certainly screened worse. But I’d certainly recommend recording it, so you can fast forward through the commercial breaks. And perhaps parts of the film, too.

Dir: Derek Talib
Star: KateLynn E. Newberry, Marylee Osborne, Rebekah Hart Franklin, Jesi Jensen

Infinite Waste by Dean F. Wilson

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

This initially seemed like a borderline entry, which I kept reading purely for entertainment. It’s about an exploratory star-ship, the Gemini, out on the very edge of known space, which comes across a giant barge, packed with nuclear waste and populated by a race of rat-humanoids, the Raetuumak. The Gemini is an appropriate name for the craft, as it’s effectively two separate ships, each with their own captain and very different approaches. Maggie Antwa, commander of Gemini Right, is a cautious scientist who abhors violence in any form, and was compelled to take on this mission after being involved in a environmentalist rebellion against the ruling Empire. Over in Gemini Left, on the other hand, Skip Sutridge is a square-jawed believer in shooting first and asking questions… well, never, to be honest. He has been sent to the fringes, probably to try and keep him out of trouble.

It doesn’t work. Skip finds himself captured by the Raetuumak, leaving Maggie to strap on the battle armour and rescue her co-captain. That’s not the end of the matter though, as they discover the barge is an interstellar weapon, aimed at the heart of the Empire. Worse still, is the creature made of pure shadow that stalks the corridor of the ship, absorbing the energy of anyone it touches: this is one of the Umbra, long since considered to be no more than the bogeymen of fairy tales. Not only is this belief incorrect, they’re now apparently returning from their exile to take on the Empire. Maggie and Skip will have to put aside their deep philosophical differences to deal with both this massive dirty bomb, and the Umbra.

It’s Maggie’s character arc which eventually qualifies this for here: she and Skip are complete opposites, who initially share only mutual loathing. Yet they eventually realize that neither one of their approaches will be sufficient to defeat this threat. As the book states, “He was sword and she was shield. Separately, they were vulnerable. Together, if they could ever find a way to really work with each other, they would be powerful beyond measure.” That’s really the core of the book here: the convergence on a middle ground which is able to make use of both their undoubted talents. It’s Maggie who drives this, with the solo rescue of Skip proving her courage and audacity, and forcing him to admit her abilities. Yet, she also finds that her long, deep-held pacifism has limits: after realizing the need to deal with the Umbra, “Perhaps for the first time in her life, the thought of killing something didn’t upset her at all.”

I have to say, the way in which it is eventually dealt with, was more than a little weak: if they’re so easily defeated, it’s hard to see how the Umbra could be any kind of threat to the galaxy. Yet, except for that moment, this was a strong page-turner. As mentioned at the start, kept me interested even in the early going, when its action heroine credentials were in doubt. Both Skip and Maggie are capable of carrying the story on their own, and the pairing of them is an effective combination. I’m intrigued to see where they go from here.

Author: Dean F. Wilson
Publisher: Currently only available as part of the Dominion Rising collection for Kindle.
Book 1 in the Infinite Worlds series.

Pink Heat

★½
“Die Hard in a saloon.”

You know you’re deep into one-man, to put it mildly, film-making territory, when the same name gets 7½ of the first 10 credits (one is shared). That’s spreading your talents thin, even if you are Steven Spielberg. And Sean LaFollette definitely isn’t Spielberg. The story is told in flashback, with the heroine Elizabeth (Burgess) the proud recipient of two pink-handled revolvers for her birthday. While she’s off getting her gun-belt, the family saloon is invaded by a group of out of town criminals, who take the rest of her family hostage, and shoot her grandfather dead. Fortunately, Elizabeth takes after her late mother, who was a crack-shot, and is therefore in a good position to pick apart the perpetrators.

Die Hard? More like Die Limp. For there’s almost nothing here that reaches the level of competent, from the ill-conceived structure through to the ridiculous and pointless voice-over. This includes such gems as, after Elizabeth rescues her boyfriend, “I ran to Mark. I was relieved to know that he was alive.” That should be a script direction, not a voice-over: “Elizabeth runs to Mark, clearly relieved to know he is alive.” Then there’s the heroine’s style of gun-fighting, which would be better suited to a primary school playground than taking on hardened criminals. A gun in each hand, she thrusts her arms forward alternately while firing, a hardly credible approach extremely unlikely to generate accuracy, and with the unfortunate effect of making her resemble a train engine in motion. And we are provided with absolutely no explanation for the criminals’ actions: what exactly are they trying to achieve by the taking of hostages?

Probably the most aggravating part of the entire production, however, was the music – a LaFollette composition, naturally. He seems to be going for a minimalist, John Carpenter vibe. It doesn’t work, and sounds simply as if he was only able to afford half the notes on a musical scale. Because the soundtrack consists of a series of pieces, in which four notes are repeated in strict succession, for however long is necessary for the scene in question. Even in a film of low standards like this, it’s quite outstandingly bad, and if it hadn’t been LaFollette the director giving an approving nod to LaFollette the composer’s work, would surely have rapidly resulting in a replacement being sought.

Positives are not easy to find. I did quite like the opening, which feels like a pastiche of Western movie cliches… because that’s exactly what it’s intended to be, since it’s a show put on for tourists. Burgess does at least look the part – albeit rather more so when attired in her mother’s long coat and Stetson, rather than wandering the house in some fairly gratuitous underwear! However, you’ll be hard pushed to remain interested through to a climactic battle which includes the bad guy pausing in the middle of a fight for his life to take a swig of whisky, before a final resolution which literally had me rolling my eyes in my head.

Dir: Sean LaFollette
Star: Jordan Burgess, Adam Joseph Lopez, Joey Catalano

Killing Eve: Season One

★★★★
“You should never call a psychopath a psychopath. It upsets them.”

A genuinely organic hit on BBC America, this generated so much word of mouth that the ratings for this show behaved in an unexpected fashion. Including those who DVR’d the show, viewership increased for each episode over its 8-week run. That’s a rare feat these days, and is testament to the show’s unique qualities. So confident were the station in the show, that is was renewed for a second season before it had even premiered – another unusual achievement. But then, this show is arguably unlike anything else on television.

The heroine is Eve Polastri (Oh), an officer in the British intelligence service, MI-5, who believes there’s a connection between a string of assassinations across Europe. She’s right: they were all carried out be Oksana Astankova (Comer), codename “Villanelle”. Oksana is a pure, undiluted psychopath, working for a shadowy Russian organization known as “The Twelve”, under handler Konstantin Vasiliev (Bodnia). Polastri’s career is apparently ended when a witness to one of Oksana’s hits is killed in her care, and she’s fired from MI-5. However, this allows her to be recruited by Carolyn Martens (Shaw) for a off-book investigation into Villanelle.

Eve is therefore able to continue digging into Oksana’s history and activities, but the target becomes aware of the interest – signalling that knowledge by using “Eve Polastri” for her identity during a job. From here, it’s a spiral of increasingly intense cat-and-mouse, with Eve and her team tracking the assassin, while also being hunted by her. It all grows deeply personal for both Eve and Oksana, the two women developing a perverse long-distance relationship that’s more of a fixation, on both sides. Note: I’m not using “perverse” in relation to the homoerotic elements. It’s just… really bizarre. As in, “Villanelle breaking into Eve’s house, in order to have dinner with her” strange.

The show is defiantly messy in terms of its characters, who manage both to embody the stereotypes of the dogged law-enforcement official and the slick, femme fatale, while also subverting them. From the viewpoint of this site, Oksana is likely the more interesting. As a high concept, imagine a female version of Dexter: charming and affable on the surface, yet extraordinary lethal – and capable of flicking that switch in a moment. The difference is, Villanelle has chosen not to control and direct her “dark passenger” so much as embrace them fully, and is given the chance to do so by the profession into which she is recruited. It also allows her to indulge her fondness for haute couture.

She enjoys her work, to an almost scary degree, disdaining the simplest and most directly effective methods, too. That’d be boring, especially for such a free spirit. Why shoot, when you can kill your target by stabbing them in the eye with a hatpin instead? On the other hand, she is also incredibly manipulative. Oksana may not be able to feel any genuine emotions of her own, yet she’s supremely good at faking them, and will happily say what you want to hear, if she thinks it’ll let her use you for her own advantage. Her handler doesn’t so much control the incredibly self-confident Villanelle as unleash her in the direction of the intended target. Who inevitably ends up dead… just not necessarily quite as he would prefer.

The contrast to Eve could hardly be greater, and that perhaps goes some way to explaining the agent’s obsession: Oksana is everything Eve wants to be. Okay, except for the “psychopathic killer” bit. But that’s just a detail, right? For Eve is stuck in a rather tedious relationship, and works a job where her talents are under-used and even less appreciated. The more she learns about her target, the greater the appeal seems to be, and it works both ways: Villanelle wants “someone to watch movies with”. Or says she does anyway: this could just be another manipulative ploy, it’s impossible to be sure. Espionage, counter-espionage and assassination is a murky world at the best of times. Here? You can’t see the murk for the deceit, and at times the lies become a bit overwhelming.

After a long career expressing earnest concern on medical soap Grey’s Anatomy, Oh’s career has undergone a spectacular sea-change of late. First, there was the awesome Catfight, and now this, little if any less successful, which allows Oh to show her remarkable range of expressive… er, expressions [Seriously: you could spend an entire episode just watching her face, to the exclusion of everything else, and still be entranced]. Comer is nowhere near as well-known, but I doubt we’ll see a more memorable female character on television this year than Oksana, combining childish innocence, girlish glee and savage psychopathy. When it comes to Emmy time, it will be a travesty if at least one of them is not nominated – and ideally both. The supporting cast are no slouches either.

I will confess to being less than whelmed by the final episode which, rather than ramping up, petered out into something approaching a slumber party. Admittedly, it’s a very weird one, befitting the show, and sees Eve violate Oksana’s personal bubble of living space, partly in retaliation for the same thing happening to her earlier. But it offers no sense at all of closure: this may be a side-effect of the show having been pre-renewed. I guess there’s no point making any effort to wrap things up, when you know you’re going to be back.

Still, for 7½ episodes, this was far and away the best thing on American TV at the moment. To get one of these amazing characters in a show would have been more than acceptable. Having both in the same series provides a one-two punch of heroine and anti-heroine that’s almost unsurpassed in television history. Buffy and Faith, or Xena and Callisto, perhaps come close – although they were only story arcs. Here, Eve and Oksana are a pure, undiluted focus, and it’s glorious. The second season can’t get here soon enough.

Creator: Phoebe Waller-Bridge
Star: Sandra Oh, Jodie Comer, Fiona Shaw, Kim Bodnia