Literary rating: ★★★★★
Kick-butt quotient: ☆
This e-story (at 73 pages, it’s at the longish end of the “short” story continuum) by my Goodreads friend, new independent author Theodore B. Ayn, is one of several recently-published works to his credit, and so far the only one of them that I’ve read. (I’m hoping eventually to read the rest.) While I didn’t officially receive it as a review copy, I treated it as one (the author kindly extended a general offer of a free e-copy long enough to allow me to take advantage of it when I’d otherwise have missed out). When I started it, I’d intended to read only a short bit, and to return to it later; but I wound up finishing it in a single sitting. As that indicates, it was (at least for me) a page-turner, and a propulsively quick read.
Ayn has an obvious admiration and respect for women who are both strong and muscular physically and who have a matching moral and emotional strength (an attitude that I share); and based on the cover art and descriptions, this is exhibited in all of his works, not just this one. (Arguably, the description of this one provides information that would be better picked up by the readers as the narrative goes along, though it isn’t a “spoiler” as such.) Basically, this particular story, set in a small Midwestern town that’s never identified in any more detail than that, pits brawny waitress Jeannie against even brawnier ex-biker gang member Clyde (no last names given for either) in a physical confrontation brought on by his sexism, arrogance, and hot temper. That description, however, is deceptively simple. This is a character-driven story which isn’t simple at an emotional level, and also isn’t predictable. (It should also be stated at the outset that it’s not an “enemies to lovers” romance; there’s no romantic element in the tale at all, let alone between the two adversaries.) Both main characters are complex, and developed in surprising depth.
The prose style here is straightforward and direct. Overall, Ayn prefers straight narration over dialogue, though he provides realistic dialogue where it’s needed to reveal character and move the plot. Technically, it could be claimed that, especially in developing his two lead characters’ back stories, he uses a fair amount of telling rather than showing. But within the constraints of the short format and of the centralizing of the fight itself as the outward core of the story (though inward developments are taking place at the same time), there’s no real alternative to that technique, and it’s actually well-suited to the kind of effect the author successfully creates. This is descriptive fiction, with no speculative element. I’ve characterized it as general fiction, rather than as crime fiction or action-adventure, because the characters are ordinary civilians, neither career criminals nor law enforcement professionals; no guns are involved, the setting is mundane, and the situation is one that could easily occur in everyday life. We’re in a very different atmosphere and milieu than that of, say, a typical Modesty Blaise adventure.
A word is in order about the art work here. While this isn’t a graphic novel as such, it’s greatly enhanced by, altogether, no less than 30 illustrations (some full-page) of particular scenes, in the same style as the cover art. These serve the same purpose that traditional book illustration always has, that of enabling the reader to more vividly visualize the characters and events of the story (and serve it very effectively!), but as the author confirmed to me in a personal message, they’re AI-generated. Personally, I would argue that such a use of AI to supplement the author’s creative vision is legitimate; it brings to life scenes he wants to depict in the way he wants them depicted, but with a draftsmanship he wouldn’t actually be able to create by hand. (Though the ability to use AI to create it also requires an expertise of its own.)
Unless a reader is scandalized by the sight of bare female arms or legs, there’s nothing salacious about the art here, and nothing suggestive or sexual about the story’s content. Bad language is limited to a couple of d-words. While this isn’t “Christian fiction,” it is fiction written by an author who’s a Christian; but it’s not “preachy” in any sense. (The lead characters are secular, and their spiritual state is only referenced in a single sentence.) It is, though, fiction that focuses on a rough, no-rules street fight between a man and a woman, with an antagonist whose moral code doesn’t include any scruples about hitting a woman, and a female protagonist who doesn’t see her gender as disqualifying her from slugging or kicking a man if it’s necessary. The author also has the kind of moral vision which can view a physical fight as an instrument, rather than an antithesis, of moral order. This story wouldn’t be recommended for readers who would be repelled or triggered by that type of imagery, content, or messaging. However, I’m not numbered in that group; and for me the story proved to be ultimately wholesome, emotionally enriching, and rewarding.
Author: Theodore B. Ayn
Publisher: Self-published, available through Amazon, currently only for Kindle.
A version of this review previously appeared on Goodreads.


The appeal of K-Pop in the West baffles me. I mean, I have a fairly low tolerance for pop in general. So the appeal of a foreign version, born from a culture to which you have no connection… Yeah. Fortunately, you need no knowledge to be entertained by this Netflix animated movie. It’s also tongue in cheek enough to work for non-fans, poking self-deprecating fun at the obsessive nature of K-Pop fandom. The title alone is so direct as to indicate the attitude. It’s accurate though. Pop trio Huntr/x are also demon hunters. They are the latest generation, tasked with keeping the forces of darkness and their ruler Gwi-Ma, out of our world through a barrier called the Honmoon.
Interestingly, this is based on a somewhat true story, written by Raquel Santos de Oliveira. She comes from Rocinha, one of the most notorious slums in Rio, where she grew up on the streets. “By 11, I was already carrying a .38 revolver,” 
I was considerably less impressed with
I guess, the old saying “just there for Godzilla” definitely applies to me. This movie is far from perfect, but as long as I see some skilled fighters in fancy costumes battling it out, I’m in. Additional points are given if the respective dub is at least tolerable. Broken Oath is actually an interesting movie. It is kind of a remake of Japanese classic
Broken Oath follows the story beats of Lady Snowblood quite closely – until it slowly becomes its own thing. It’s comparable to how
For example, Ah Shu seemed to be built up as a love interest. But he is killed off in a way, as well as the heroine’s reaction to it, which is so casual I wondered why he was even in the story. There is another character supposedly killed – silly me, believing that – who is suddenly back there to support the combatants in their fight again. The whole “she is poisoned and has to be cured” episode feels like a pointless story element, with no good reason except for extending the movie’s run time (admittedly I saw the theatrical version at 98 minutes; there is an extended version around 5 minutes longer), and giving Mao the chance to lay down and take a short break.
Dallas Nite is a dragon. Well, some of the time. For dragons are actually shape-shifters, capable of changing form, and that’s how she is able to pass for a human here. On her home planet, she had been an assassin for Queen Naalish, until she balked at carrying out one hit. Condemned to death, she fled through one of the interplanetary portals, ending up on Earth. Effectively immortal, Dallas has been in exile here for ninety-seven years since, making sure no other unauthorized creatures come through the portals – part of an uneasy truce between her and the aristocracy. Part of her job also involves ensuring any trace of dragon activity is covered up, these being explained instead as “spontaneous human combustion.” But after a whole family is slaughtered in fiery fashion in their home, it becomes increasingly difficult for her to keep a lid on things, and her past comes back with a vengeance too.
Here’s a real obscurity. 18 years old, and yet still with a mere seven votes on the IMDb. There, I had to find it by going through the director’s name, as the title brought up nothing. To be fair, it’s not even the best-known film of the year, because some guy called David Lynch made a short called Ballerina in 2007. But it turns out to be an early work from Mauser, whose
★★★★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.
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.