★★★
“Mexican stand-off”
The second season follows immediately on from the events of the first, with Emilia Urquiza (del Castillo) on the run, after being framed for the death of her husband, the President. It’s not long, however, before she’s brought into custody… at least for a while. Her friends in the resistance, led by Canek (Guerra), are still active however, and soon get her broken out, to continue the fight. It’s a lot less linear of a series, with a multitude of threads being spun, merged and dissolved in the ensuing power struggle for control. The interim president, who is more than slightly sympathetic to Emilia’s situation – even after she has taken him hostage (above) – calls an election to choose a replacement, with two main candidates. Curiously, the more “progressive” is the military officer. On the other hand, the shadowy “X-8” group and its leader Santiago ‘Santi’ Salazar (Franco), is working feverishly behind the scenes to consolidate its hold over the country.
It’s considerably more complex than the previous series, which was a fairly straightforward, “woman on the run” scenario. This time round, while Emilia is still the central character, she is just one of the many pieces which are moving round the chessboard, in a quest for power. It requires paying greater attention than your typical telenovela, and with hindsight, perhaps deserved better than the “viewing while I get in my daily treadmilling” that it received. It probably didn’t help that an entirely different actor took over the role of Emilia’s father in the second season, which confused the hell out of me [the original had health issues which prevented him from returning], or that one episode in the middle was entirely a dream!
I still generally enjoyed the murkiness, however, watching the characters navigate their way through treacherous shoals of shifting loyalties and hidden agendas. A bit of a shame about the ending, though let me remain spoilery vague. While “the act” in question obviously sets things up for a third series, it’s glaringly obvious as it approaches. Probably doesn’t help that I was already wondering why no-one had tried it. “The act” would have solved a lot of problems, for a lot of people, if carried out over the previous 26 episodes.
The main positive is the breadth of interesting and pro-active female characters here, beyond Emilia. The one particularly worthy of note is Ana Vargas-West (Ibarra), Chief of Staff of the President’s Office. She ends up even more deeply embroiled, as she tries to juggle her CIA employers, links to X-8 and an apparently genuine desire to help both Emilia and the country. Ana has really dug herself a hole with her fingers in so many pies, and it’ll take all her political skill to survive. There’s also Zyan Torres (Tamara Mazarrasa), a soldier who ends up working as the lieutenant to Santi, and Kelly Crawford (Isabel Aerenlund), lurking even further back in the shadows than X-8.
In line with its cable-ish location, the show remains a bit edgier than most, for example, depicting Emilia being fire-hosed down in order to extract information out of her while in captivity. While there’s no shortage of gunfire and death either, on the whole this season is closer to a Mexican House of Cards, with political shenanigans coming to the fore. Though I’m not sure how accurate a portrayal of Mexico it is: this isn’t exactly made in conjunction with the local tourist board, shall we say. Season 3 seems inevitable, so stay tuned. Or, I guess, subscribed…
Star: Kate del Castillo, Erendira Ibarra, Alberto Guerra, Luis Ernesto Franco


To be fair, the low rating here is not necessarily just the author’s fault. It was only almost at the end – when I was checking to see how much more I had to endure – that I discovered a salient fact. While this is described as being “Book 1” in the series, it appears to be a follow-up to the same writer’s five-volume Hunter Circles series. The heroine there,
To explain the above, there are significant chunks of this which are terrible: make no sense, or are flat-out dumb. Its depiction of policing, in particular, is awful. Apparently, if you’re on a stakeout and a deal between two gangs has turned into a Mexican standoff, the best way to defuse the situation is to run downhill towards them, firing your gun in the air – and not bothering, at any point, to identif yourself as a law enforcement officer. I laughed like a drain at that, and there are innumerable other moments of such character stupidity or cinematic incompetence. Yet, none of that stopped me from being adequately entertained.
The film begins with an Argentinian school-trip to a volcanic area, which goes badly wrong when one of the schoolgirls, Cornelia, vanishes. Despite an extensive search, all that’s found is her locket. 14 years later, the missing girl’s best friend, Pipa (Lopilato), is now a cop, channeling the guilt she still feels about Cornelia’s disappearance and her role in it, into work. After a mass to mark the anniversary of the incident, Cornelia’s mother visits Pipa, begging her to re-open the case. Despite initial qualms, she does so, only to find a restaurant-sized can of worms comes along with it. Pipa finds herself facing a serious criminal organization, under the control of a woman known as The Mermaid (Salamanca), whose tentacles stretch both around the world and into the past.
Pageants and drug cartels may not seem like topics that combine, but in South and Central America, they’re perhaps closer than you’d think. El Chapo’s third wife, Emma Coronel Aispuro, was a Mexican beauty queen. In 2013, the previous year’s winner of the “Sinaloa Woman” pageant, Maria Susana Flores, was killed in a clash with police.
First off, this is not to be confused with the other Australian film of the eighties
★★★
Moore was eventually fired, with the studio bringing John Sayles on board. However, Moore was re-hired three weeks before shooting was scheduled to start, due to the movie becoming excessively long: he simply discarded all of Sayles’s changes, and Sony accepted what was basically the original version. However, during shooting, Raimi realized he
It’s a shame, because the supporting cast is quite stellar, and deserve better. Outside of those already mentioned, there’s also Tobin Bell, who’d go on to become horror icon Jigsaw in the Saw franchise; Lance Henriksen; Keith David; and, although his scenes were deleted, Raimi’s long-time friend, Bruce Campbell. Seeing the talent which gets rushed in and out of the story in about five minutes makes me wonder if a feature film was the best medium for the idea. It might have worked better as an ongoing television series, each episode telling the back story of the participants and ending in their duel. A rotating series of guest stars would have worked very nicely, with the season covering one of Herod’s contests, leading up to the final gunfight in the last installment.
“Liberation, Val had learned, was not a simple matter of casting off stereotypes and social conventions. Nor was it a mere change in perspective. Rather, it was an evolution in state of being, a release not from consequences, but from fear.”
Despite the male-oriented title, there’s no doubt who the star is: Vienna (Crawford), a former saloon girl who has clawed her way up to owning her own place, on the outskirts of an Arizona mining town. She has inside knowledge of the route the railroad is going to take, and chose her location with that in mind. But there’s stiff local opposition, from those who don’t want the railroad, or who object to her allowing the Dancing Kid (Brady) and his gang, suspects in a stagecoach robbery, to frequent her establishment. Leading those with a dim view of Vienna, is Emma Small (McCambridge), whose brother was killed in the robbery.
If you think children are of one mind with regard to the gun debate, thanks to the zealots of Marjory Stoneman, the alternative view portrayed by this movie will feel amazingly transgressive and almost alien. The world it depicts is one where schools will actually teach kids how to use guns safely, handing out gun permits, and a teenage girl can receive a treasured family heirloom, in the shape of a .30-30 rifle, passed down the generations. Hunting is a way of life, and an important resource, with a particularly strong matriarchal tradition, in which three generations of women will be going into the woods together. For 12-year-old Florence (Abas), it’ll be her first excursion: in a not-too-subtle parallel, she also gets her first period.