Category: Review

I, Olga Hepnarova

  By

★★★
“Czech, please…”

I am a loner. A destroyed woman. A woman destroyed by people… I have a choice – to kill myself or to kill others. I choose TO PAY BACK MY HATERS. It would be too easy to leave this world as an unknown suicide victim. Society is too indifferent, rightly so. My verdict is: I, Olga Hepnarová, the victim of your bestiality, sentence you to death.

Women who kill are rare. Women who kill multiple victims at once, without male associates, are rarer still. Among the few who have been recorded as such was Olga Hepnarová, a 22-year-old Czech, who in 1973 deliberately drove a truck into a group of people waiting for a tram in Prague. Eight were killed, and a dozen injured. The day before she had sent a “manifesto” explaining her actions to two local newspapers. As the extract above suggests, she saw herself as a victim, inflicting punishment on the society which she blamed for bullying her. Hepnarová showed absolutely no remorse, and became the last woman executed in Czechoslovakia, being hung in December 1975.

This is all historical and documented fact, but helps lend this feature version of Hepnarová’s life a bleak relentlessness. Presuming you’re aware of the story (and one imagines most of the Czech audience would be, if not necessarily those in other countries), you know exactly where it’s going to end up – with a short drop, though the film takes the specifics of that as read. So there’s no suspense to be had, and to be fair, that isn’t the point at all. It’s more about trying to get inside the mind of Hepnarová: how does someone get to the stage where committing an act of mass murder becomes not only plausible, it also becomes inevitable?

It was clearly a combination of factors. Olga displayed signs of mental illness from a young age, including a suicide attempt by overdose in her early teens, and as depicted here, has severe difficulty forming any kind of relationship – though the lack of effort she puts into them from her side is notable. She seems to stand outside the human race, at one point saying, “I can’t talk to anybody. I’m alone everywhere. People just talk and gather and laugh even at things I don’t find funny at all,” and later bluntly stating “The world has no value.” I’m not sure if her comments come from court transcripts, medical documents or were invented for the purpose of the film, but according to the makers, “We didn’t write anything that we didn’t know to be true – if we didn’t know it for sure, we removed it from our script.”

There’s no denying it sometimes packs a wallop – not least given events subsequent to filming, in Nice and elsewhere, with terrorists taking enthusiastically to vehicular mayhem for their own causes – and the blank nihilism in Olszanska‘s performance is chilling. But I can’t say any real insight into the psychology of her psychopathy feels like it was obtained. It’s clear she was bullied, and that was a factor, but what is offered feels like a facile simplification: hell, I had more than my share of being bullied at school, and didn’t kill anyone. There is eloquence to her own words, and I wish there had been more of this. For despite black-and-white cinematography which makes it feel like a contemporary retelling, rather than four decades later, the rest feels flat and largely uninteresting.

Dir: Petr Kazda and Tomás Weinreb
Star: Michalina Olszanska, Martin Pechlát, Klára Melísková, Marika Soposká

She’s Crushed

  By

★★½
“An object lesson about not sticking your dick in crazy.”

Playing somewhat like a more brutal version of Fatal Attraction, this sees Ray (Norlén) help out the girl next door, Tara (Dickinson) with some heavy suitcases she’s trying to move into her car. From this eventually stems a one-night stand between the pair, made all the more unfortunate by Ray’s girlfriend, Maddy (Wehrle) being stranded by the side of the road with a flat, while the pair do the dirty deed. Ray then discovers Tara’s darker side: and when I say “darker side”, I mean she makes Alex Forrest of Fatal Attraction look like a bunny-boiling beginner. With the aid of a condom from their dangerous liaison, she frames him for the rape/murder of his boss, forcing him to help her get rid of the body. And Tara is only getting warmed up. Wait until she gets her hands on Maddy…

Unlike Attraction, there is never any sense of doubt as to the woman’s sanity. Right from the get-go, it’s perfectly clear that Tara is barking mad, and likely already a killer; those suitcases mentioned above seem to contain the body of a previous victim. There’s some backstory about a severely-abusive father – one whose abuse of Tara continues right to the present day – and a mother in an asylum. It’s not really necessary, especially following the scene where we see her shaving her armpits with a carving knife. After that, very little more has to be said. Of course, she’s a relatively high-functioning psycho, in that Tara can come over as perfectly normal in everyday conversation. This, and her physical attractiveness, do make Ray’s interest seem somewhat plausible, along with the shrewish nature of his current girlfriend, although there’s so little build-up to Tara’s night with Ray, it’s a bit eyebrow-raising.

Indeed, events unfold in a way that’s rather too obvious for the first hour, with Tara alternating wildly between over the top Generic Loony (TM) and eye-blinkingly adorable, without any particular impact or development. Only after she kidnaps both the target of her affection and his girlfriend, does this achieve a degree of disturbing brutality, far beyond what Attraction depicted. And that’s exactly the territory which low-budget films need to inhabit, in order to succeed (or, at least, be memorable): where Hollywood fears to tread. If you’re not crinkling your toes up by the end of that sequence, you’re not paying attention. Does that 10 minutes justify the existence of the entire film? I’d likely need some convincing of that, and for a supposed military veteran, Ray finds it remarkably difficult to escape from the clutches of not exactly powerful Tara. At least, until the plot requires it, anyway.

Bonus points to the makers, for their use of videos on a Youtube channel, “taraiscrushed”, as a viral promo for the film telling Tara’s backstory, beginning more than three years before it was released. That’s planning ahead…

Dir: Patrick Johnson
Star: Natalie Dickinson, Henrik Norlén, Caitlin Wehrle, Keith Malley
a.k.a. Crushed

Mommy’s Secret

  By

★★½
“Mother by day. Bank-robber… also by day.”

This low-key Lifetime movie stars Carpenter as a literal soccer mom, Anne Harding, right down to the minivan she drives, taking daughter Denise (Grey) to her practice. Denise is a hot prospect, with college scholarships beckoning. However, life for the rest of the family is not so smooth. Anne lost her husband and is in financial difficulties, mostly because of the never-ending gambling debts run up by her other child, Kyle (DiMarco) to local thug Quinlan (Mitchell). Anne has tried to help, only to find herself robbing banks on behalf of the boss. It helps that she wears a fake beard and mustache, so the police are looking for completely the wrong gender. But it takes its toll on an increasingly-twitchy Anne, with Denise eventually putting together the pieces to realize her mother is responsible for the recent crime spree.

It is all, of course, moderately ludicrous, although the movie seems to be aware of this and plays it slightly tongue-in-cheek, e.g. focusing on the PTA sticker on Anne’s getaway minivan. I also have to say, for a family supposedly in dire financial straits, they have a lovely and extremely large house. Downsize, pay off Kyle’s debts and there’s no need for any of this felonious larceny. Even the robberies are… well, polite to the point of being positively Canadian, with everyone just believing Anne when she hands over the note saying she has a gun. And do not even get me started on Denise’s football games, which are the least convincing bits of sport I’ve seen committed to film in quite a while. No wonder Team USA didn’t qualify for the World Cup [that joke will firmly date this review!]

However… it’s all still just about adequately entertaining, helped by Carpenter’s winning performance. She’ll always have a bit of a spot in our heart, thanks to her work on Buffy, and here she gets to play the most screwed up soccer mom since Orphan Black. There’s a good twist to turn things around as we head into the third act, which I did not see coming. And Anne has to demonstrate an admirable degree of bravery after Quinlan decides to “encourage” her ongoing participation by snatching Denise. This helps it skate just this side of entirely laughable, even if Charisma pretending to be a man will always be no more credible than those martial arts films where Michelle Yeoh does the same.

In the film’s defense, there do appear to have been a number of not entirely dissimilar cases in real life,  where women at the end of their financial tether turned to robbery. Though I strongly suspect the final outcomes of those cases, were nowhere near as heart-warming as what is portrayed here [and this being Lifetime, saying so doesn’t exactly count as a spoiler]. The moral here is less don’t rob banks, and more, don’t play so much poker in shady local bars to the extent that you need to take a loan out from the owner. Truly a lesson we can all take to heart.

Dir: Terry Miles
Star: Charisma Carpenter, Sarah Grey, Amos Mitchell, Adam DiMarco

Burned, by A. Blythe

  By

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

My name is Alyse Winters. I used to be a powerful djinni until…
   “We’ve got a burn notice on you – you’re blacklisted.”
When you’re burned, you’ve got nothing. No cash, no credit, no job history. You’re stuck in whatever city they decide to dump you in.
   “Where am I?”
   “Philadelphia”.
You do whatever work comes your way. You rely on anyone who’s still talking to you. A sleazy ex-boyfriend. A friend who runs a sex-shop/illegal weapons depot. Bottom line? Until you figure out who burned you… You’re not going anywhere.

Yeah, it’s kinda like that: a paranormal version of long-running series, Burn Notice. Heroine Winters is an agent for the Shadow Elite, tasked with keeping order across the six different castes of djinni, a shape-shifter also capable of summoning virtually anything she needs with a snap of her fingers. She gets knocked out, and wakes to find herself in Phillie, sporting a fetching pair of copper bracelets that have robbed her of all supernatural skills, and entirely disavowed by her employers.

She needs to get herself back on her feet, figure out who was responsible and why, before some of the many people with good cause to bear a grudge against her, discover where the powerless ex-agent is now located. Doing so will require her to come to to terms with being locked in a single human form with very human limitations, as well as working for some questionable types who might be able to help Alyse. She also needs to figure out who is behind a series of brutal murders which are affecting even the most powerful members of her community – not least because the finger of suspicion there is pointing at her.

The “catch the real killer to prove you’re not guilty” reminded me of Fugitive of Magic, and even the cover looks a bit similar. Between that and the Burn Notice comparisons, this does feel over-familiar, even with the supernatural angles. But I did very much like the heroine, who is thrown back onto her wits, due to the lack of her paranormal talents, and refreshingly, simply doesn’t have time for the usual romantic dalliances. As she says, “When you’re a covert agent, stopping to process gets you killed. Feelings get you killed. I was trained to handle intense and dangerous situations without breaking a sweat… That’s how I survived every encounter so far, and that’s how I intended to survive my current predicament.”

On the other hand, this is a slightly thin storyline: can’t help suspecting, the original Michael Westen would likely have got everything here handled in 42 minutes, plus commercials. And the end collapses into sub-Bondian nonsense, the villain actually saying, “How about I show you our great achievement? I hate for you to die without knowing what your contribution will be. It wouldn’t be fair.” Really? It’s a poor and clichéd misstep, after which an otherwise half-decent book limps across the finish line.

Author: A. Blythe
Publisher: Red Palm Press LLC, available through Amazon, as both an e-book and paperback.
Book 1 of 3 in the Magic Bullet series.

Mission NinetyTwo

  By

★★★
“Tree’s company”

The German-Canadian co-production is split into two feature-length parts – “Dragonfly” and “Energy” – but is absolutely a single entity, so that’s how it’ll be covered here. I was braced for something truly dreadful, after reading some particularly scathing reviews, and seeing no less than four directors listed in the credits for part one. In reality, it’s not bad. Not great, admittedly, but the three hours passed without my losing consciousness, which puts it ahead of certain recent genre entries I could mention.

The heroine is Sonia Engelhardt (Dordel), a scientist specializing in trees, who is carrying out research funded by a lumber company. She is on the verge of a major breakthrough when they suddenly yank her funding away. Sonia decides to proceed regardless, and in the forest, stumbles across something which puts her life in danger, along with those of local cops Bill Jones (Breker) and Analena Tempest (Reimer). They’re looking into shady ties between the lumber company, and other groups, not least a biker gang. Helping the good guys out in the subsequent investigation, with cryptic phone calls, are a shadowy, apparently governmental organization called “Libelle” (German for dragonfly, not that this is ever explained or relevant).

Part 1 ends with our trio having to high-tail it to Germany. Part 2 is much more of a solo story. Sonia gets thrown back onto her own resources – which includes, as the poster suggests, dying her originally blonde hair dark. She’s forced to become rather less of a pacifist, going all Katniss Everdeen on the baddies instead, as she eventually finds out what was going on, back in the forests of Canada. To be honest, I’d figured that revelation out quite a bit earlier (there’s a clue in the title). But as a cheerful gallop around rural Canadian and urban German landscapes, it’s not bad, and between Sonia and Analena, as well as villainess Jasmine Chang, there’s a decent quota of action heroines.

Digging into the background a bit, it appears this was originally a web series of 16 episodes, which explains both the rather odd 2-part structure, and probably also the multiple directors. It appears to have been a passion project for Dordel, who actually does hold a PhD in forest science from the University of British Columbia: she’s not just playing a scientist. As such, I can cut it some slack, and forgive the occasional rough edges. However, there are still problems too large to ignore with the script, which doesn’t flow at all, jerking abruptly from one plot point to the next, and with rather too many things happening without credible explanation, e.g. the ‘Libelle’ calls.

It’s a shame, as I like the underlying idea. A bad-ass ecologist, wielding a (very environmentally conscious!) bow and arrow against those who are destroying the planet – preferably involving the giant fireball depicted on the cover? Where do I sign up? Shame there’s a bit too much of a gap between that concept, and the execution which is delivered here.

Dir: Brent Crowell, Neil Every, Kryshan Randel, Guido Tölke
Star: Julia Dordel, Eric Breker, Anita Reimer, Michael Teigen

Strong Girl Bong-soon

  By

★★★
“A not unpleasant Korean stew.”

The 16-part series proved an unexpected sleeper hit in its native land, more than doubling the audience from debut to finale. This is all over the place in terms of genre, with comedy, thriller, romance and action threads. While they aren’t equally successful, it does a pretty decent job of managing most of them, and is surprisingly accessible for a Western audience. The heroine is Do Bong-soon (Park B-Y), the latest in a matriarchal line of very strong women. She has been brought up to keep her power suppressed, due to the potential issues it can cause; Bong-soon has also been warned that if she misuses them, and hurts an undeserving person, they will go away. [Let’s not worry too much about how this presents an easy solution: slap one innocent, and she would become just like everyone else…]

Additionally hampered by low self-esteem, she has so far largely flown under the radar, but that ends when she stops someone from being bullied by an organized crime gang. The incident is witnessed by Ahn Min-hyuk (Park H-S), head of a game company, who is dealing with a stalker and hires Bong-soon as his bodyguard. She starts to fall for her boss, but is conflicted due to having feelings for long-time friend, In Guk-doo (Ji). He’s now a local cop, investigating a series of kidnappings which have terrorised the local area.

All these threads and more, intermingle and develop over the course of the series. The crime gang, who are trying to redevelop the area, seek revenge on Bong-soon, only to become semi-permanent residents in hospital. A group of young local wannabe gangsters turn to Bong-soon as their leader. Her parents go through relationship difficulties. The psycho kidnapper’s attentions target a victim too close to our heroine for comfort. She tries to leverage her bodyguard position into achieving her ambition, which is to design video games. She has a gay supervisor, who has a crush on their boss. Yeah, there’s a lot going on here: everything from a soppy post-teenage love-triangle to something which borders on Silence of the Lambs.

Credit is due, therefore, that the end result is even watchable, given this scattergun approach, though obviously some elements are not very interesting from my perspective. It’s hard to see quite who might enjoy all the angles; on the other hand, perhaps this is a case of there being something for everyone? Park B-Y is admirably deadpan as Bong-soon, dealing with the bizarre hand life has dealt her, and the action scenes, although less frequent than I’d like, are decently handled: the highlight is probably her duel with the entire crime syndicate in a warehouse. It works better for me in the first half, when the various elements gel into a more coherent whole: later on, it becomes almost entirely about the kidnapper or the love triangle, and the switches in tone feel more jarring. I can’t say I’m eagerly anticipating a second series, yet didn’t mind what’s certainly a different take on the genre of super-powers.

Dir: Lee Hyung-min
Star: Park Bo-young, Park Hyung-sik, Ji Soo, Jang Mi-kwan

Trial by Twelve, by Heather Day Gilbert

  By

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

Stylistically and in terms of its general tone and vision, this second volume of the author’s A Murder in the Mountains mystery series, set in contemporary West Virginia, has much in common with the first book, Miranda Warning. It’s also set in the fictional small town of Buckneck (near real-life Point Pleasant, in west-central WV near the Ohio River), and a number of the characters from the first book are here as well, especially protagonist Tess Spencer and the family she married into. We have the same leavening of humor, the same realistic characterization, and the same affectionate evocation of modern mountain life.

Even the structure is the same; through much of the book, Tess’ first-person, present-tense narration in normal text is supplemented, at the beginnings of the short chapters, by one or more italicized paragraphs from the unsigned and undated letters of a father to his child. As in the first book, we quickly get the idea that the two strands of material will prove to be related. Here, we also quickly form the suspicion that, in reading these letters, we’re glimpsing into the insane world of a serial killer. But while I didn’t review the first book here, there are developments in this book that I thought entitled it to a slot on this site’s roster of action-female reads (though no spoilers from me!).

Pregnant in the first book, Tess is now mom to a roughly year-old toddler. She’s gotten back into church, and into a rekindled faith that plays a role in her life, but doesn’t overpower the plot of the book. Also, she’s finally gotten her concealed carry permit (so her fans don’t have to keep worrying about her being arrested :-) ), and she’s gotten a Glock of her own, which she packs in a hip holster and generally doesn’t leave home without. Back in the work force, she has a new part-time job booking appointments at a fancy spa near Buckneck. It’s a position that suits her well –until, in the first chapter, workmen digging for a swimming pool behind the spa unearth what proves to be a veritable boneyard of female skeletons, killed with arrows to their chests. These deaths took place years ago –but then a fresh corpse turns up….

As a rule, I tend not to like the idea of serial-killer fiction (and nonfiction), and normally avoid it. But despite that, I really liked this book –the killings aren’t directly described, and there’s no wallowing in grisly gore. Although I pegged the killer’s identity pretty early on (that’s not unusual for me in my mystery reading), there were still questions I hadn’t answered, and the denouement managed to pack a surprise. I did find it somewhat dubious that a police detective would involve Tess in his investigation, despite her performance in the earlier book; and even more dubious that an inveterate tobacco-chewer would give up the habit, even temporarily, on the basis that he does here. But these quibbles aside, this was still a quick, enjoyable read, a re-connecting with some of the characters from the first book, and a chance to observe the continuing growth of an engaging protagonist.

As a Christian author, Gilbert avoids profanity and sexual content. Religious content in the book is low-key, and occurs naturally through the experiences of the characters; readers won’t find it “preachy.”

(Readers interested in such features will be pleased that the author has shared a recipe for “Cousin Nelma’s Banana Pudding” in the back of the book. I haven’t tried it, but it actually sounds like it would be pretty tasty, and relatively easy and inexpensive to make.)

Author: Heather Day Gilbert
Publisher: WoodHaven Press, available through Amazon, both for Kindle and as a printed book.
Book 2 of 3 in the A Murder in the Mountains series.
A version of this review previously appeared on Goodreads.

La Banda de los Bikinis Rosas vs Cobras Negras

  By

★★
“Banda on the run.”

It has been a while since I’ve scraped the bottom of the barrel of Mexploitation cinema: all those telenovelas don’t count, generally being well-produced and with reasonable production values. Just how reasonable is brought home by comparing them to this… Admittedly, I had to cope with it being entirely in Spanish with no subtitles. I kinda hoped that watching north of four hundred episodes of Hispanic TV would magically instill in me the ability to speak Spanish. Turns out, this is not the case. Who knew? But I think I am on fairly safe ground in declaring this a bargain basement comedy-action cross, which exists to provide PG-rated titillation as much as thrills or laughs. 

I’m informed this is the second in a series, which has reached at least three entries (though only this one can be found in the IMDb), so there appears to be sufficient of a local market to justify its existence. It seems to start with the good girls – Los Bikinis Rosas, who do indeed wear pink bikinis – celebrating with their boss after another successful mission. But it’s not long before they are called into action again, going up against the bad-girl gang, the Cobras Negras, for possession of a microchip which… presumably can do something or other of importance. That bit was lost in translation (or lack thereof). No prizes for guessing what shade of bikinis are preferred by the Negras.

This colour co-ordination is probably a good thing, since the four women on each side are almost entirely interchangeable in appearance. The Rosas have a token blonde, while the Negras have a girl in glasses, who is presumably the evil nerd of the bunch or something. [I was basically making up my own plot there.] As appears semi-customary, a masked wrestler shows up, in this case the Rosas getting their training from Huracán Ramírez. Which is impressive, since he died seven years prior to this film’s 2013 release. This would not have fazed the Mexican audience. Luchadors, particularly the masked ones, tend to be near immortal, with characters being passed down the generations, sometimes as “el Hijo de” (the son of), or simply by taking over the mask, as appears the case here.

It’s not very interesting, and has horrible pacing. For example, the Negras seem to have their headquarters located in a basement below a food court at the back of a mall. So, we get to see them – apparently in real time – going through the mall… taking the elevator to the basement… and walking from there to the room in question. It’s a sequence even more gratuitously padded than the characters’ bras. The same goes for the lengthy aerobic exercise training sequence, during which the camera appears fixed, with dedication that’s border-line impressive, on the actresses’ chests and butts. The action is not great either, though is likely stellar in comparison to the stabs at comedy, which appear mostly to consist of a flamboyant homosexual.

Half a star of this is credit for my shortcomings in Spanish, which are likely responsible for some of the issues. While her translation skills may have been helpful, I just couldn’t bring myself to inflict this one on Chris, even though her derisive snorts would have been truly epic to behold.

Dir: Julio Aldama Jr.
Star: Julio Aldama Jr., America Ramírez, Julio Zaizar, Coco Rojo

GLOW: season two

  By

★★★½
“Twoooooooo….”

I don’t typically binge-watch shows, being generally content with an episode or two per week. For the second season of GLOW, Netflix’s original series (very) loosely based on 80’s TV show Gorgeous Ladies of Wrestling, we made an exception and blitzed through the series in a couple of days. This in itself is a recommendation – with most of the episodes running barely 30 minutes, it was very much a case of “just one more…” Before we knew it, we were done, and left with a vague feeling of emptiness and slight regret at having burned the 10 episodes so quickly.

Is it as freshly original as the first series? I’m inclined to say not quite, mostly because it’s treading in its own footsteps. Some aspects have improved – not least the wrestling, which (under the continued tutelage of Chavo Guerrero, who makes a cameo on the final episode) is now probably better than anything the real Gorgeous Ladies ever managed. But the balance seems to have tilted. It feels more like a soap opera with occasional interludes of sports entertainment, while its predecessor went the other way. This series is also rather more strident and obvious in its morality, not least a ham-handed shoehorning in of a #MeToo narrative that had #MeRollingMyEyes.

If the first season was about the struggle up the mountain to make the show, this one is about the fight to stay on the summit and avoid cancellation, in the face of evaporating sponsors and an unengaged TV station, as well as the ongoing relationship between its top stars: former soap star Debbie, a.k.a. Liberty Belle (Gilpin) and bit-part actress Ruth, a.k.a. Zoya the Destroya (Brie). This comes to a literal crunch when a coked-up Debbie genuinely breaks Ruth’s ankle during a match – an incident inspired by a badly dislocated arm suffered by Susie Spirit in the real GLOW.

Some scenes, and even entire episodes, are great: the GLOW parody of “USA for Africa” is perfect, as is the anti-teen sex PSA Debbie assembles. And the eighth episode is, save for the final few seconds in which life decides to imitate art, an entire TV episode of the supposed show. It’s a faithful recreation of the style – albeit with rather less wrestling than the “real” thing – and is glorious, something I’d happily watch every week. The performances throughout are beautifully nuanced, with the best being Brie, and Maron as the show’s good-hearted bastard director Sam Sylvia.

But there were enough flaws in the writing as well as weaker episodes (especially during the first half); combined with the lack of any much sense of building on the previous season, I have to give it a slightly lower rating. Debbie’s coke use, for example, comes out of nowhere and goes there too. Maybe things like that will become more relevant in any third series: this one ends with the cast and crew heading to Las Vegas [finally catching up with the real GLOW, who were based out of there]. Until then… Well, we’ll just have to watch Lucha Underground instead.

Created by:: Liz Flahive and Carly Mensch
Star: Alison Brie, Betty Gilpin, Marc Maron, Sydelle Noel

The Feral Sentence by G. C. Julien

  By

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

The handling of this story is a little different from the usual novel. Julien adopts an “episodic” approach, with the story initially released in novella-length installments (seven of which have come out to the point of writing), some with cliffhangers. In structure, this is almost like the movie serials of old. Book 1, reviewed here, compiles parts 1-4. It’s set in 2087, when the authorities have gone back to a retro version of penal punishment: exiling criminals to a remote tropical island, from which there’s no escape, and where prisoners can pose only a danger to each other. 18-year-old Lydia Brone is sentenced to three years for killing her mother’s abusive boyfriend, so is dropped off (literally – out of a helicopter offshore), and left to make her own way on Kormace Island.

She is almost immediately captured by one of the existing tribes, under the control of long-term inmate Murk. To survive, the women have implemented their own society, with each being assigned a role necessary to the survival of the group. Brone is initially made a needlewoman, but after an attack by the “Northers”, a rival tribe, she’s re-assigned to learn archery. Daily life is not without conflict, with Brone being shaken down by another inmate, and eventually she realizes that attempts at practicing non-aggression can simply get you tagged as an easy mark. However, it turns out, there are much bigger problems at hand, with her entire new “family” coming under threat.

It’s an interesting, if somewhat uneven, character arc for Brone (she abandons use of her own first name quickly), as she evolves, mostly out of necessity, from scared teenager to battle-hardened warrior for the tribe. I say “uneven”, because it feels slightly inconsistent. At one point, she appears to say she was almost obsessive-compulsive about cleanliness, hygiene, etc. yet this is rapidly discarded, and he has few apparent problems adapting to a primitive lifestyle. I’d also have welcomed background information about the outside world: what brought us to the point where this solution was adopted? It has been running for decades, going by how long Murk has been there, and the apparent one-way nature of the place would seem to raise obvious questions. Do none of the women have friends or relatives on the outside waiting for them?

Julien does a good job with drawing the rest of the inmates, creating a set of characters whom are generally distinguishable, even if their back stories have a certain “society’s to blame!” similarity [not many of the prisoners accept full responsibility for the consequences of their actions, there’s always some excuse]. The episodic approach also means, almost out of necessity, a constant stream of incidents: there is, literally, never a dull moment here. The ending, admittedly, falls a bit awkwardly between two stools: it’s neither a satisfactory conclusion, nor dramatic enough to lure you into the next volume. This remained entertaining, however, and the almost complete lack of romance – for obvious reasons! – was a refreshing change from some recent entries.

Author: G. C. Julien
Publisher: Amazon Digital Services, available through Amazon, both as a paperback and an e-book.
Book 1 of 3