Injun

★½
“I Spit on Your Movie.”

I never thought I’d find a film which would leave me yearning for the subtle and understated pleasures of the original I Spit on Your Grave, but here we are. 35 years on, and this cringeworthy copy was made, transplanting events to the old West. A further decade later: with a couple of re-titlings which jostle each other for inappropriateness, it’s out on a number of free movie streaming platforms. I’m here to tell you, not to bother. Even in the low-rent neighbourhood which is rape-revenge movies, you could close your eyes, pick a random entry, and be almost guaranteed to find something with a better script and general execution.

It begins on a bizarrely integrated farm, I’m guessing at some point after the end of the Civil War. Comanche adopted white girl Ana (Sawyer) lives there with her native American husband and their son, plus a Hispanic woman, a black guy and a geezer in glasses. Their names are not important. For onto the ranch ride six escaped convicts, led by former Confederate officer Jeb (Herrick). After some ominous banter with geezer in glasses, they kill everyone – told you their names weren’t important – except for Ana who is merely gang-raped, staked out and left for dead. Fortunately for her, she’s rescued by a conveniently passing man called Barfly (Neff). Nursed back to health over what must be a period of several hours, she sets out for revenge against the six escapees, who inexplicably decided to hang around the ranch.

You know me: I’m not exactly one to complain about questionable stereotypes. But even I had to wince on a number of occasions. It might have been Jeb’s Mexican sidekick, Chico (Venture), who sports an F-sized sombrero and droopy mustache. It might have been Ana’s squaw cosplay and whooping war-dance. It might have been the original title, with its even more dubious poster and tagline: “Payback’s an Indian bitch!” I’m all in favour of political incorrectness in order to make a point, or even simply to trigger certain folk. I get the feeling though, that everything here was done out of sheer ignorance. As such, this is no fun at all.

If you’re going to knock off I Spit on Your Grave so blatantly (down to there being a mentally-challenged member among the rapists), then you really need to put more effort into it. The rape here is a scoop of vanilla ice-cream compared to the intensity of the original. The revenge has almost no impact either, with third-rate special effects: the “scalping” is particularly unimpressive. Oh, hey: rather than cutting someone’s genitals off, she sets fire to them. That’s what passes for imagination and innovation here. The performances just about pass muster: indeed, there’s likely too much of them, especially with the gang sitting around the farmhouse and jawing, as their numbers steadily shrink. Your interest and attention will likely suffer a similar fate.

Dir: Bob Cook
Star: Amanda Elizabeth Sawyer, Robert Herrick, Tony Venture, Greg Neff
a.k.a. Scalped! or I Spit on Your Tombstone

Hit and Run, by Andy Maslen

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

Detective Inspector Stella Cole has her life turned upside down when her lawyer husband is killed in a hit-and-run accident, leaving her to bring up daughter Lola on her own, and struggling with an addiction to both booze and painkillers – anything to numb the pain of everyday existence. Though the driver in question is arrested, he receives a paltry sentence of only three years, and Stella begins to plot taking her own revenge. This is brought up short when the perpetrator is killed in prison, and evidence begins to accumulate that her husband’s death may not have been accidental.

The more DI Cole investigates, the murkier things get, as she discovers evidence of a vigilante group, Pro Patria Mori, operating at the highest levels. They’re not exactly happy to have Cole circling them, and decide she needs to be dealt with. However, Stella has been preparing to deliver the most brutal payback she can imagine, when she finds the man responsible, and is no longer a soft target, but prepared for whatever – and whoever – PPM might throw at her. Despite Britain’s strict gun-controls, her job helps her obtain access to everything she needs, before she sets off to the Highlands of Scotland to carry out her vengeance, with absolutely no regard for what the personal cost might be.

Looking back on this, what will stick in my mind is probably a fairly mind-blowing twist at about the one-third point, which quite upends everything I’d believed, and was something I definitely did not see coming. Well played, Mr. Maslen. Well played. I also liked the nicely-detailed way in which Stella obtained her weaponry. Not being au fait with the finer details of police firearms procedure, I can’t comment on its practicality; however, it sounds like it could work, and that’s good enough for me. The action is fairly low-key for the most part, though ends in a rousing finale, with Stella’s assault on her target, who knows she’s coming and has made defensive preparations. Just not nearly enough of them.

There were some other plot aspects that didn’t convince. In the end, the person directly responsible for her husband’s death – as in, actually driving the car – is one of PPM’s top officials, which doesn’t seem to make sense. It’d be more logical to use the person who was actually sent to jail, and they clearly have no issues with throwing low-lives at problems, or access to the same. Similarly, it’d be more logical to have had her work up the chain of command. It still makes for a satisfying and vigorous tale of justice emphatically served, though I’m not certain how there can be six more books in the series. It feels as if Cole has burned an awful lot of bridges, with a return to her job seeming highly problematic. It’s certainly not a light read, yet perhaps is the better for unashamedly embracing the darkness in its topic and heroine.

Author: Andy Maslen
Publisher: Tyton Press, available through Amazon, both as a paperback and an e-book
Book 1 of 7 in the DI Stella Cole Thrillers series.

One Foot Crane

★★½
“As the crane flies.”

We begin with the murder of a family, with the sole (apparent) survivor being a small child, Fung Lin-yi (Li), who is able to escape. Rescued by – and stop me if you’ve heard this one before – a kung-fu master, she is rigourously trained in the titular style of martial arts. It’s fairly nifty, not least for the dagger hidden in the tip of her shoe which she uses to administer the coup de grace, Rosa Klebb style. Fifteen years later, she’s ready to seek revenge on the quartet of outlaws responsible for killing her family, who unlike our heroine, appear not to have aged a day over the decade and a half since they participated in the slaughter. Matters are complicated by a few factors. Her first victim is the father of one of the outlaws, who then starts tracking down the mysterious “One Foot Crane” responsible. There’s also a police official investigating the situation (Sze), and it turns out Lin-yi may not be the only survivor after all (Wei).

Plenty going on here, for sure, though not much of it is particularly of interest. Indeed, from an action heroine point of view, it leads to a dilution of focus, with the movie’s attention being pulled in too many different directions. It ends up doing none of them justice and sidelining Lin-yi, just as things should be getting going. Li isn’t bad, either in performance or with her fists and feet; there’s just nothing particularly special about either facet of her character. It does form an interesting contrast to the recently reviewed Eight Strikes of the Wildcat in one area. That had the heroine taking on three villains for the film’s climax, and this approach makes for a much stronger and more impressive finale than the one here, where she needs the help of two others (using eagle and mantis techniques) in order to take on the final boss. You never saw Bruce Lee or Jackie Chan requiring assistance.

Veteran Hong Kong star Lo Lieh shows up, though despite his high presence in the movie’s opening credits, his contribution should probably be more in the “with…” or “and…” categories, if the makers were being honest. He appears only briefly as a villain, swinging a blade on a chain around. I did appreciate the way the film didn’t subject us to the almost contractually required training montage: one second, Lin-yi is a little girl doing kung-fu, and a cut later, she’s all grown-up and doing kung-fu. However, there is almost nothing else which sticks in my mind, and I finished watching it a scant few hours ago. Still, Li clearly must have had some skills, enjoying a long career in both film and television, appearing as recently as 2020. She was the lead in a 1978 TV series of The Bride with White Hair, and received a “Long-term Service and Outstanding Employee Honour Award” from TVB for thirty years’ service in 2018. This, however, doesn’t merit any further discussion.

Dir: Wu Min-hsiung
Star: Lily Li, Wei Tzu-Yun, Tsai Hung, Sze Ma Lung

The Gentle Touch

★★★★
“Touched by an angel.”

British television was rather late to the policewoman party. The first such American show, Decoy, had aired in 1957, and been followed in the seventies by Get Christie Love! and Police Woman. But the UK had to wait until the eighties for their first home-grown series. The Gentle Touch just beat Juliet Bravo to the title, beginning its five season run four months earlier, in April 1980. It centered on Maggie Forbes (Gascoine), a Detective Inspector who worked out of the Seven Dials station in central London. The show began with the murder of her husband, also a police officer, leaving her to raise teenage son Steve (Rathbone), despite a strong devotion to her career in law enforcement.

To be honest, it’s more character- than action-driven overall, yet that’s its strength, since it does a great job of creating people who feel “real”. Nobody here is perfect: everyone has flaws, and struggles to cope with life’s ups and downs. Maggie is the focus, having to operate in an era when casual disregard for a woman’s talents was the norm. Not least by her Scottish colleague, Bob Croft (Gwaspari), though he eventually came to appreciate her many talents, such as Forbes’s fierce devotion to justice. Fortunately, her boss, Detective Chief Inspector Bill Russell (Marlowe) always had her back, even if his approach means cutting her no slack either. But every episode seemed to have one or more great performance, taking advantage of the vast pool of top-tier British character actors.

If you’re familiar with British films and television of the time (and I basically grew up with them!), you will see a lot of recognizable faces. Josh Ackland, Enn Reitel, Joanne Whalley, Art Malik, David Kelly, Ralph Bates and even Floella Benjamin – now Baroness Benjamin, then playing a high-class call-girl! The show also covered a lot of social topics not often seen on eighties television, from racism to porn, yet generally managed to do so without feeling like it was delivering a lecture. There’s no denying its success at the time. This peaked with the ninth episode of season three, in January 1982, which was the fifth most-watched TV program of the year in the United Kingdom, seen by almost a third of the entire population.

The odd episode does perhaps teeter on the edge of implausibility, such as a largely ineffective cliffhanger at the end of season four, where a woman walks into Seven Dials station, armed with a hand-grenade, and threatening to blow herself up. Such excesses seemed positively… well, American. I felt the show was better when staying safely British: you could have a good drinking game, based off people offering each other a nice cup of tea. Speaking of which, Gascoine must have had a sponsorship deal with artificial sweetener company Hermesetas: Chris noticed the way she inevitably dropped a couple of their little tabs into her cuppa. Yet I was surprised how well it generally stood the test of time. Its age only occasionally shows, and most of its 56 episodes proved highly watchable, thanks to the solid characters and performances.

Creator: Terence Feely
Star: Jill Gascoine, William Marlowe, Brian Gwaspari, Nigel Rathbone

Nowhere Girl

★★½
“Slow, slow, slow-slow, quick…”

For the first hour, you may be forgiven for wondering if there has been some kind of mistake, because the poster bears almost no resemblance to what happens in the film. Oh, it’s the same actress, to be sure, and she is a schoolgirl. But it appears, rather than the war story promised, you have strayed into a teenage drama. In it, Ai (Seino) is a talented but troubled student, who seems to be suffering from some kind of post-traumatic stress disorder. The special treatment she receives at school brings her enmity as a result, both from her class-mates and the er homeroom teacher (Kaneko). Though she finds solace in art, including a mysterious major project on which she is working, housed in the school auditorium.

It’s all very subdued. There’s a lot of scenes of people standing around talking. Or, for variety, sitting around talking. The camera is considerably more mobile than the characters, engaging in stately pans and tracking shots around the dialogue, accompanied by classical music that’s positively soporific. Yet, it’s clear there’s something “off” about the whole situation. The school is frequently shaken by earthquakes, and it’s apparent that Ai has a tendency to outbursts of violence, which is bubbling just below the surface. The staff and other students don’t pay attention to the warning signs, and continue to push Ai’s buttons. You’ll understand where I thought this was potentially going to end up, delivering on the image with her going postal on the school.

Not quite.

Trust Oshii to make something which confounds expectations, while still somehow managing to disappoint. See  Avalon or Assault Girls, both films with massive potential, that fall short of realizing it. Here, you have a film which would potentially be a classic, if it started at the hour mark, then built on what follows, for another hour after the credits actually roll. Because what kicks off – at the 67-minute mark if you’re interested in fast-forwarding to that point – is beautifully staged. There’s a spectacular sequence of kung- and gun-fu, whose highlight for me was Ai taking the term “human shield” to a whole new level. Then a revelation to set up a whole new scenario, one that looks very interesting, and… The End.

I do have to mark this down for the film trying to pull off the most clichéd of clichéd twists which, to a significant degree, renders everything previous to that point a waste of everybody’s time. You need to be a supremely confident film-maker to pull it off; while it’s clear Oshii doesn’t lack in confidence, pulling the carpet out from under the viewer really needs to have happened 10-15 minutes in. The longer the conceit is sustained, the more likely the audience’s reaction will be “You’ve got to be kidding me” – and there might well be an epithet dropped in before “kidding”, too. Some day Oshii will deliver on his undeniable talent and imagination. Just not today.

Dir: Mamoru Oshii
Star: Nana Seino, Nobuaki Kaneko, Lily, Hirotaro Honda

Run Sweetheart Run

★★★
“/snorts in Lola”

If I were Ella Balinska, I’d be having a word with my agent. After seeing her major Hollywood career begin with the embarrassing failure of the Charlie’s Angels reboot, she then followed up with an even more dismal flop, the attempted reboot by Netflix of Resident Evil. Now there’s this, which eventually seeped out on Amazon Prime, in a re-cut form, almost three years after premiering at Sundance. This either doubles down on the loony feminist claptrap of Angels, or is a deadpan parody of that kind of nonsense. For the sake of my sanity, and for humanity in general  I’m going to presume it’s the latter, and the grade above reflects this. If it was intended as serious social commentary, slice the grade in half, and God help us all.

Cherie (Balinska) is a wannabe lawyer, toiling away in a Los Angeles legal firm, and suffering all the slings and arrows the patriarchy can hurl at a single black mother. In particular, her boss (Gregg) asks her to stand in for him and take a client, Ethan (Asbæk). out to dinner. He’s handsome, charming… and a demonic entity of some kind, who then proceeds to hunt Cherie through the LA night, after telling her, she’ll be free if she can last till dawn. Turns out she’s far from his first victim, and Cherie’s only hope of help is a mysterious woman called the First Lady (an effortlessly movie-stealing Aghdashloo), who knows a thing or two…

It’s a perfectly fine premise, and as well as Aghdashloo, Asbæk also seems to be in on the joke, over-acting enthusiastically and to good effect. There are moments when this is supremely self-aware, such as when Ethan follows Cassie into his house, then turns and gestures to stop the camera from following. Or the 72-point font exhortations to “RUN!” splattered on the screen at appropriate moments. Yet it feels as if Feste doesn’t understand the genre in which she’s operating. Horror is about confronting fears head-on (albeit in a safe environment), not avoiding them. By pointing the camera away, she’s missing the point. For instance, when Ethan reveals his true form, all we see is Cassie’s reaction, and Balinaka’s pulling of faces is nowhere near a good enough performance to sell it. 

Despite what I said above, unfortunately, it does appear the film intends its feminist message to be taken seriously, and at times this drowns the entertaining elements in cringe. Peak levels are reached after Cherie is rescued from an obnoxious alpha male at a party by three sisters, who unironically spout nonsense like, “We desperately need the female brain.” The whole movie is spattered with badly-written dialogue and action along similar lines, rather than letting its meaning flow naturally from events as they happen. Such moments derail what was a promising B-movie. Indeed, if it had been more Ethan vs. First Lady, with Cassie reduced to the annoying footnote she deserves to be, it could potentially have been a classic.

Dir: Shana Feste
Star: Ella Balinska, Pilou Asbæk, Clark Gregg, Shohreh Aghdashloo

The Glorious Asuka Gang!

★★★
“Red Nose Day?”

Dir: Yôichi Sai
Star: Miho Tsumiki, Yôko Kikuchi, Kumiko Takeda, Mikari

This is based on a 34-volume manga series by Satosumi Takaguchi, which began publication in 1985. It is far from the only adaptation. There have also been two OVAs, a live-action drama series, a different feature version made in 2009, and even a pair of drama CDs. This feature, however, is the only one available in the West to date with subtitles. It takes place at an indeterminate point in the future – the year is given as 199X – when “the streets are overflowing with drugs and violence”. There’s a battle for control, which conveniently seems to be along gender lines. The unfortunately naned male “Red Nose Gods”, under boss Toki Masamune, are going up against the all-girl Hibari Group. They are named after their leader (Mikari), who speaks only through her lieutenant, or with the aid of an artificial voice-box.

Out heroine, Asuka (Tsumiki), has just peeled off from Hibari, along with her best friend Miko (Kikuchi), seeking to make their own way on the streets. They quickly gain the enmity of the Red Nose Gods, but more troubling, is that Hibari has ordered Yoko (Takeda) to kill them both. For Yoko is Miko’s sister. This is established quite quickly, and the rest of the movie is various shenanigans as the two groups struggle for power, while the local corrupt police run interference on their own agenda. Will there be betrayal, plotting and heavy use of a Rolling Stones song? The answer is yes, to all three elements.

This feels like it ought to be a straight-to-video title, of which there was no shortage around the time this came out (1988). But the production values are considerably better than normally present in that kind of thing. The cost of merely licensing the Stones’s Satisfaction would have exceeded the entire budget of many V-cinema entries. There are also some quite spectacular sets built to represent “New Kabuki Town”, after the apparent near-collapse of normal society, and the photography is positively theatrical in quality. If you’d told me this was a Japanese remake of Streets of Fire, I would have believed you. Elements like Hibari’s voice-box indicate there was a decent amount of thought put into the various elements too.

So why is it… kinda dull? Or at least, it seems like it should be considerably more exciting. While there are occasional upticks in energy, it feels considerably more chatty than I wanted. Yoko, in particular, seems to act in ways that defy any kind of internal logic, yet are necessary to propel the narrative forward. What is her motivation? What, indeed, is anyone trying to accomplish? For a time, it looks as if Asuka is seeking to take over from Hibari, or replace Toki. This all goes away quite quickly, left by the wayside, and leaving a vacuum in terms of character goals. It ends instead in a straightforward duel between Asuka and Yoko, and there’s a definite sense that, once the dust settles, nothing much will have changed. Maybe that’s the point.

The Covert Guardian, by Liane Zane

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

Liane Zane’s Elioud Legacy trilogy, all three books of which I’ve previously reviewed, is supernatural fiction, written by a Roman Catholic author, and premised on the fictional conceit that matings between angelic beings (both fallen and unfallen) and humans have been going on since before the Flood, producing mixed-race offspring who are physically human but have certain heightened physical or even latent supernatural abilities. That trilogy focused on three strong and courageous young women, who when it opened were completely unaware of their angelic genes, and all of whom were both serving in the intelligence services of their various countries, and collaborating with each other on the side in a covert alliance to provide some special protection for the victims of sexual assault and trafficking. The Covert Guardian is the first volume of a projected prequel trilogy, set a few years before the opening of the previously-published one, which will tell the “origin story” of their friendship and alliance. Here, our protagonist is Olivia Markham, the trio’s unofficial ringleader, and we learn how, as a 20-year-old college pre-med student, she unexpectedly came to join the CIA.

Unlike the first trilogy, this one really has no supernatural elements. Readers who’ve read the former will suspect, from certain subtle clues, that a couple of secondary characters here may also be Elioud, and will remember the St. Michael medal (a gift from her sensei) that Olivia wears, which feels strangely warm at times; and she has a sort of instinctive sixth sense for approaching danger that her then-boyfriend rather snidely dismisses as her “spidey sense.” But none of this is obviously paranormal nor impossible to explain naturalistically. I’ve classified the book as straight-out, descriptive action-adventure and espionage fiction, and it will definitely appeal to fans of those genres whether they have any liking for supernatural fiction or not.

The previously-published books mentioned, as a painful experience in Olivia’s past, the murder of her cousin Emily when the two girls were 16; they were close, and the tragedy was a formative factor in shaping Olivia’s deep desire to protect the innocent victims of brutality. In the modern U.S., the wheels of the justice system grind very slowly, so the killer’s trial was delayed until the summer before Olivia was to become a junior at Brown Univ. (She’s New England born and bred, living with her family in a suburban town outside Boston.) When our tale opens, soon after testifying, Olivia’s been talked by her boyfriend into joining him in a vacation on Ibiza, a real-life Mediterranean island off the coast of Spain which is a popular tourist destination, as a supposed opportunity to rest and heal from the re-lived traumatic experience. Even at this stage in her life, she’s strong, physically fit and athletic, smart, brave and quick-thinking; and since Emily’s murder, she’s been taking serious martial arts training. (And then there’s that “spidey sense” I mentioned….)

These qualities will stand her in good stead when, just four pages into the narrative, a squad of Islamist terrorists hit the beach, bent on slaughtering the revelers. Fortunately, a CIA counter-terrorist strike force is nearby; but by the time the action is over, Olivia’s displayed enough mettle to get their attention. (As they’ll soon learn, it also doesn’t hurt that she’s fluent in several languages, and qualified for the U.S. Olympic team in archery while still in high school.) Before the summer is over, she’s training at a CIA-run camp in North Carolina, and she feels that she’s found her true calling. And as luck would have it, an attractive female college student might just fit the mission profile for getting close to a wealthy young playboy type suspected of funding global terrorist activities. But chicanery, corruption, and betrayal of the U.S. aren’t necessarily things that only go on outside of the CIA, and our heroine’s path to joining the Company may not be an easy cake-walk.

Although the books of the Elioud Legacy trilogy are all thick, at just 155 pages, this one is more novella length, and a quick read. Like the former books, though, it moves around geographically, in this case to locations on three different continents; and the author’s knowledge of the physical geography of all of these settings is impressive. She’s a skilled wordsmith, seasoned in the novelist’s craft and able to immerse the reader in the story, and there are some surprises up her sleeve. For readers who want danger, tension, and well-depicted action scenes, this yarn definitely delivers. It’s not characterized by profound ethical dilemmas or deep spiritual, philosophical or political content, being more straightforward in those areas (in the context of the espionage genre, Zane is more in the tradition of Manning Coles or Alistair MacLean than, say, John LeCarre’), but I don’t view this as is any sense a fault, nor will most genre fans. What readers –genre fans or not– do want in fiction, more than action and danger, is the human element, a central character(s) we can like and feel invested in enough to care about the action and danger in the first place. That test is amply met here. Olivia is a winsome, dynamic protagonist whom we get to know and appreciate, and this is a character-driven tale of her growth and maturation in various ways in the crucible of a testing ordeal.

As I’ve said before in reviewing this author’s work, it’s fiction written by a Christian, rather than the kind of commercially “Christian fiction” the book trade markets as such. Olivia’s a basically kind and ethical-minded person, and cares about right and wrong as she understands them; but by her own statement, here she’s still “not really a believer.” Bad language is a hair more prominent here than in the first trilogy, though it’s actually more prominent in the first few pages here than it is in most of the book. College-age Olivia herself is capable, when she’s angry, of thinking or saying some pretty bad words, including obscenity (in a couple of languages). And though there’s no explicit sex, we know that an unmarried sexual encounter takes place at one point. The author makes us completely understand the psychology behind it; it’s a case of allowing the character to be who she realistically is, and possibly to grow through all of her decisions, both the good and the misguided ones, into the person she’s finally becoming. (That’s what good authors do.)

Finally, a worthwhile question might be, does a reader need to have read the Elioud Lagacy books before reading this one? My answer would be no; having read those books will allow you to better appreciate some adumbrations of the future you can see here, but it’s not essential, and no knowledge of them is presupposed here. You could begin with this book as an appetizer for the corpus as a whole.

Author: Liane Zane
Publisher: Zephon Romance; available through Amazon, both for Kindle and as a printed book.
A version of this review previously appeared on Goodreads.

I’m Your Woman

★★★★
“Taking action”

Hearing that James Gunn, new head of the DC movie department at Warners, just recently announced David Corenswet and Rachel Brosnahan as the new actors to play Superman and Lois Lane in the next “Superman”-movie, I felt the need to find out more about these new actors. For Brosnahan I chose the movie I’m Your Woman, an Amazon Prime production from 2020. For one thing, she played the main role, and secondly a two-hour movie is much quicker to watch than a series like The Marvellous Mrs. Maisel. Sure, for that series she got two Golden Globes, one Emmy and two Screen Actors Guild Awards – but my time is a bit limited. Also, I prefer gangster movies over a dramedy show.

I’m Your Woman takes place in the 1970s. Although a year is never specifically mentioned, the dresses, suits, hair styles and the ugly interior design speak for themselves. Jean (Brosnahan) plays the wife of gangster Eddie (Bill Heck). She knows that he’s a gangster but not what he exactly does. In material terms, while there is everything that she could wish for, she is obviously unfulfilled, as she would have liked to have a child – but it didn’t work out. A big change in her life happens when Eddie one day brings home a baby, declaring that it is now theirs. Jean is more than a little over-burdened with the new task, for taking care of anything or anyone, least of all a baby, is something she never had to do.

Very soon her life changes even more dramatically, when one night Eddie doesn’t come home. Instead, she is given a large amount of money and told to go with Cal (Kene), a friend of Eddie’s. She is not told what has happened, so her subsequent escape and isolation in a foreign house remains a mystery to her for quite some time.  As one can probably already guess from the above, the movie is not excessively an action movie with a whole lot of bang-bang. That said, it nevertheless earns its place in the “girls with guns” category, even if this element shows up quite late in the game. For most of the movie, the heroine (and by extensions we, the audience) are left in the dark concerning the why, what and how. Only slowly are we given that information, with light eventually being shed on the background of what happened and the fate of Eddie.

I think this makes it quite an unusual movie as – in contrast to many other movies – we are not immediately brought up to speed with an info-dump, so that we tie ourselves emotionally to Jean. As a result, the fear and tension she experiences are really palpable to us, too. We don’t know who Cal is and why he is helping her, or why people are after Jean. In my opinion, the movie is particularly successful in showing a female perspective, as part of something that would otherwise potentially have been just an ordinary gangster story. In the beginning, Jean does whatever she is told, while at the same time also trying her best to be a good mother to the little baby, even if her knowledge in this respect is also just rudimentary.

It’s only when she realizes that, unless she leaves behind the passive role that she has occupied for such a long time and becomes active, the hunt for her will never end. After that, she is able to change her life and save her new found friends, including Cal and his family. In that respect – and I know how this sounds – this movie can actually be called an emancipation drama. For once this is real, in contrast to the kind of what many modern movies understand under that expression. Also, the story can be seen as offering a historical comment on 1970s paranoia, and in particular how everything seemed to be chaotic at this time. Jean has to come to terms with the notion that those people who try their best to protect her, might have just as little a clue as she has.

I liked this movie, filmed in Pittsburgh, very much. The inherent tension can be felt for the entirety of the movie and it always feels and sounds like the 1970s. Wikipedia tells me the movie was only in theatres very briefly before Amazon Prime released it online. Rachel Brosnahan gives a first-class performance here though the whole production is top-notch. I regret that, too often, quality content like this flies under the radar, while we are distracted with yet another of these big dumb blockbusters Hollywood is constantly pouring over us. I feel Brosnahan is an actress of whom I would like to see more. That appears not to be problem, with plenty more of her work apparently available on Prime.

Dir: Julia Hart
Star: Rachel Brosnahan, Marsha Stephanie Blake, Arinzé Kene, Jameson Charles

Shelter

★★★½
“Never trust the Jews.”

The above is said by an Arab character, passing on advice from her father. By the end of it, despite this being an Israeli-produced movie, you may be inclined to agree with them. Mind you, on the basis of this, you should also never trust, the Arabs, Americans or Germans either. This dive into the world of intelligence, counter-intelligence and realpolitik is so morally murky, it should come with a head-lamp, to assist viewers peering into the darkness. Naomi (Riskin) is a Mossad agent, who has been out of the game for two years, since her husband, a fellow spy, was killed in a terrorist attack. She has now been tasked with what should be a simple job, guarding Hezbollah informant Mona (Farahani).

The latter has just been spirited out of the Middle East, after her cover was blown. Mona had plastic surgery and is recuperating in Hamburg for two weeks, before beginning a new life in Canada. Except, nothing in the world of spydom is ever “simple.” Hezbollah are very keen not to let Mona’s treachery escape unpunished, and Naomi’s nerves are on a knife-edge of perpetual tension, with even a simple wrong number telephone call triggering paranoia. Yet she has every reason to be suspicious. For far above the two women’s heads, wheels are in motion. America want to defeat ISIS, and needs Iran’s help. Iran supports Hezbollah. So if the price of Iran’s co-operation is merely an informant who is no longer of use…

“We take care of our people,” is an oft-repeated mantra, particularly by Naomi’s handler, Gad (Ashkenazi). But by the end, you’ll be feeling it’s more a sick joke than genuine commitment. While he may mean well, his hands are largely tied in terms of actual care. The reality is closer to Spock’s line in Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan: “The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few”. Naomi is aware of this, though matters aren’t helped by Mona’s fatalistic approach: “This apartment is cursed,” she mutters at one point. They do inevitably bond, mostly over children: Mona had to leave her son behind, Naomi is trying to conceive via a sperm donor. Though there’s also a makeover session, which is a bit cringey, to be honest – albeit, a makeover session which eventually proves  necessary to the plot.

However, when this is simply focusing on screwing up the tension, Riklis does a fine job, creating a world where anyone and everyone is potentially a lethal threat. Hyper-vigilance is an essential trait for survival, since a casual look can be the only warning you get. Yet that way lies inevitable burnout on an overdose of adrenaline. I’m not 100% certain the final twists quite deliver, at least from a logical point of view: I have questions, is all I can say on the topic. Yet they do deliver a satisfactory emotional payoff, and the journey to get there has been fine as well.

Dir: Eran Riklis
Star: Neta Riskin, Golshifteh Farahani, Lior Ashkenazi, Doraid Liddawi