Warchild: Pawn, by Ernie Lindsey

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

This dystopian future takes place after the United States of America is no longer united, having fragmented into a group of disparate regions that exist in an uneasy piece with each other. The heroine is 14-year-old Caroline, who lives in a remote part of the Appalachians, her town loosely affiliated to the People’s Republic of Virginia. She’s a scout, and one day encounters forces from the Democratic Alliance. The population of her village who escape, head towards the state capital of Warrenville, pursued by the invading army. On the way, Caroline begins to come into startling abilities which were literally injected into her as a small child.

The collapse of the US is a concept which seems considerably more relevant now, than when the book originally came out in 2014; I was surprised to discover that it takes place several centuries into the future, rather than… oh, next Tuesday. This is the element which I think I found most interesting. While the story is a real page-turner, and I enjoyed it at the time, it’s one where I found myself stumbling into plot-holes when it came to writing the review. For instance, if you can get superpowers by syringe, why are there less than a handful of people so enhanced? I’d have expected the authorities to be all over that kind of thing, in particular the military. Instead, it seems almost to be like a post-apocalyptic version of winning the lottery.

Similarly, the way in which Caroline leads the refugees to Warrenville would have made more sense if she’d come into her powers first. That would plausibly help turn the teenager into a Joan of Arc-like figure. Instead, it seems rather contrived the way adults – even the fiercely independent and survivalist Republicons – defer to her, for no particular reason beyond Caroline being the heroine of the book. However, if you can get past that (and again, I didn’t really think about them while I was reading it), then you should be able to enjoy a fast-paced surge of a book, which tends to have something going on, more often than not.

Lindsey certainly doesn’t pull his punches. On more than one occasion a character meets an unexpected and brutal end, and this gives a sense of danger for the rest of them. Well, except Caroline, of course, who is fully engulfed in Heroine Armour, naturally. Still, there is a genuine character arc here, as her relatively pastoral existence is turned completely upside down, and she’s forced into maturity over the course of just a few days, after losing everything she knows. I would be tempted to read the next two volumes, just to see where the story goes: for instance, I’m curious about what happened to Crockett’s gang of Republicons, who just wandered off in the middle of the story. Though I’d need more of a “special offer” for the omnibus edition than the 49-cent saving it provides over buying parts two and three separately!

Author: Ernie Lindsey
Publisher: JCL Publishing, available through Amazon, both as a paperback and an e-book
Book 1 of 3 in the Warchild series.

Infierno Grande

★★
“Moral: never try and take a pregnant woman’s gun.”

This begins, literally, with a bang. We first meet the heavily pregnant Maria (Docampo), carrying a rifle and preparing to leave her house. A man rises from the floor, and after a struggle for the gun, it goes off, and he drops back down. She hits the road in their pick-up truck, fearful of what she had done, and intending to head back to Naicó, the town where she was born. However, it’s not long before the people she meets on the road, seek to dissuade her from going there. It seems like everyone has a weird story about why her destination  is not a good idea, from mysterious lights that abduct you, to a cult of blond people with possible Nazi connections.

Meanwhile, in flashback, we also see that what happened was she had been escaping from her abusive husband, Lionel (Ajaka) whose treatment of her had become too much. Despite her fears, it turns out she had not killed him, just grazed his head with the bullet. He’s now coming after her, and is not happy about her leaving with their unborn child. It’s all a very slight story-line, and feels more like an Argentinian take on that quintessentially American genre, the road movie. In particular, it’s not so much about the destination, as the journey, the people you encounter along the way, and the way in which you interact with them.

For example, Maria and Lionel both meet the same man at different points. She ends up buying him a meal in a roadside restaurant, despite being strapped for cash, and in turn, he marks the location of Naicó on her map (its absence being another element of weirdness about the place). He, on the other hand, points a gun in his face and harshly interrogates him, as soon as he realizes that his victim had met Maria. It’s an obvious contrast – though like so much about the film, I’m not very sure what point Romero is attempting to make. Even at 75 minutes long, it all feels quite impenetrable, not least due to the lack of resolution. Oh, the Maria/Lionel situation is resolved. It’s just everything else that’s left open to your own interpretation.

The movie includes narration, apparently in hindsight, by her then unborn son, though again: I’m uncertain what is the point of lines like “This story somehow resembles a hunting.” Well, yes? There’s no doubt Maria is certainly attached to her weapon, even if most people she meets, stop seeing her as a threat after they recognize her condition. The film is at its (rather underwhelming) best when she is interacting with others. Her family seems well-known and her late father, who died with her mother in murky circumstances, was the former mayor of Naicó; the resulting dialogue has a relaxed and conversational approach that’s easy to listen to. But once the end credits rolled, I was left largely unsure about the purpose of the whole endeavour.

Dir: Alberto Romero
Star: Guadalupe Docampo, Alberto Ajaka, Héctor Bordoni. Mario Alarcón
a.k.a. Hell and Back

Jailbait

★★★
“Old for her age.”

Of all the scathing reviews this has accumulated on Letterboxd.com, I think my favorite is the one which starts, “Obviously written by someone who knows absolutely nothing about the penal system.” Yes, seriously. I strongly suspect things like this were written by people who know absolutely nothing about women-in-prison films, and who inexplicably managed to overlook the title of the damn movie in their expectations. Me, I had initially overlooked this, believing it to be just a retitling of the same director’s Locked Up, a glorious slab of WiP insanity. When I discovered it was actually a different movie entirely. it went quickly to the top of my pending pile.

While an earlier work, and it’s clear Cohn is still honing his exploitation craft, this is still a fine slice of modern B-cinema, Not least is the casting of Lane, at that point in her thirties, as “teenager” Anna Nix. This certainly does not hang around. Inside five minutes, including opening credits, she has killed her step-father as he tries to be molest her, been tried convicted and sentenced to 4-9 years behind bars in juvenile detention. Only a few seconds later, we get our first of many looks at the lead actress’s spectacular breasts: artificially augmented, yet top tier work. It’s not long before there’s lesbian sex with her cellmate Genie (Jacobs); abusive sex with sleazy warden Frank Baragan (Hanks); drugs, first smoked, then injected; solitary confinement while naked; and coercion from Kody (O’Brien), the leader of the Low Riders prison gang, who says Anna must join them or face the consequences. Followed, eventually, by more lesbian sex.

In other words: everything you would expect from the genre. Of course, if you go in expecting Orange is the New Black – and, let’s be honest, making that comparison on the poster (above) was… unwise – then you’re probably not going to be happy. Me, though? I went in, looking for something along the lines of Locked Up, and will be checking “Satisfied” on my customer survey. Sure, the only thing less convincing than Anna’s teenage credentials is probably her cello playing (don’t ask), while both script and performances appear to be there, only because Cohn was told they were required elements in a feature film. This is me not caring.

To my surprise, the “Based on a graphic novel” claim is actually legit. I wondered what the creators thought when they heard the rights to their work had been bought by infamous studio The Asylum. Then I saw the cover of issue #1. I suspect the reaction was likely, “Cool! Where’s the cheque?”, and also that the resulting adaptation is a faithful one. Of course, this is a penal establishment where a SWAT team is immediately ready to rush in at the drop of a shiv, yet inmates are allowed to shoot up openly in the prison yard. It’s utterly ridiculous, and complete nonsense. I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Dir: Jared Cohn
Star: Sara Malakul Lane, Erin O’Brien, Steve Hanks, Jennifer Robyn Jacobs

Asking for It (2020)

★★
“A Net loss.”

Not to be confused with the 2022 rape-revenge film of the same name (which I’ll get round to reviewing down the pipe), this is somewhat lighter in tone, though there’s a case to be made that this clashes terribly with the subject matter. Jenny (Hsu) is a journalist, working under Cheryl (Garofalo),and her work has brought her to the attention of an online stalker, who sends her increasingly disturbed and disturbing emails. When the harassment begins to move from the cyberworld into the real one, and the authorities fail even to reach the level of disinterest, Jenny teams up with room-mate Lisa (Morales), to hunt down the perpetrator and bring him to justice themselves.

In case the above is not clear, this is a comedy.

Yeah, I’m a bit uncomfortable about this. Not necessarily about the subject matter, as I tend to think any topic can be seen through the lens of humour. However, the more problematic your target, the less room for error. If you want to joke about, say, the Holocaust, you’d better bring your A game. This isn’t anywhere in the same league as a subject; however, nor is the comedy here anything close to an A game. There are a few amusing moments involving veteran Garofalo, who has the timing to hit home, with her depiction of a jaded and cynical writer. Yet otherwise, it’s mostly a weirdly toothless kind of satire, possessing too many “Is that supposed to be a joke?” moments, e.g. the blanking out of all the F-bombs.

I did enjoy the performances, with Hsu an appealing lead, and Morales doing some heavy lifting as the weirdo housemate from hell, whose special skills are indispensable to the plot. Though her “hacking” scene is another of those “Is that supposed to be a joke?” moments. The best scene probably has the pair heading to utterly deadpan teenage gun dealer, Lisa’s step-daughter, Missy. She delights in speeches like, “You left your G-string, by the way… I wore it. And then I sold it. On a website for perverts. And then I donated that money. To an elephant. Charity,” or “I don’t know how any of them work… I’m not a school shooter. Jeez, I’m sorry I can’t tell you the science behind riflery.”

Outside of those five minutes, the rest does not consistently work, either as a comedy or a thriller. I think it’s mostly a scripting problem, not least because the identity of her stalker is painfully obvious from the moment he first appears. You have to wait about an hour for Jenny and Lisa to catch up, and the pickings in that time – save Missy, who deserves her own movie – are slim. I was left mostly wondering why anyone would want to a) live in New York, and b) work as an online writer – fortunately, this is not my day job. I suspect this was not exactly the intended take-away. 

Dir: Amanda Lundquist, Becky Scott
Star: Stephanie Hsu, Irene Morales, Colin Burgess, Janeane Garofalo

Divided We Fall

★½
“Failed to sustain my undivided attention”

We begin with the usual disclaimer for films of this kind: middle-aged white guys like me are not the target audience. However, I think it’s fair to say that concepts like story-telling and character development are not limited to any particular race, colour or creed, so I still feel equipped to offer an opinion on these aspects. Though, actually, what felt like it worked best here was its strong sense of place. I’ve never been to the projects in Jamaica, New York (though Chris grew up elsewhere in the same borough of Queens). But the film does a good job of showing you that environment; it certainly works better than the (largely token) efforts to convince you some scenes take place in Miami, or even Moscow.

I guess loosely, it’s the story of Keisha (Diamond) and her all-female gang, whose robberies and other action kick of an escalating series of retribution and other incidents. For it turns out the target of the robbery was a front for the Russian mafia, who are none too happy about being on the receiving end of criminal activity themselves. They send a team of enforcers over to find the culprits and wreak retribution. Meanwhile, Sha (Brown), the local boss of drugs and other illicit things, gets summoned to Miami and made an offer he can’t refuse. Finally, the feds are sniffing around, drawn by all the carnage, and to make matters worse, turns out the boyfriend of one of Keisha’s crew is in the FBI.

There is a lot going on here: to be frank, far too much. It runs 107 minutes, yet would probably need at least twice that length to do justice to all of the threads (and the above is by no means an exhaustive list). I tried my hardest to keep track of exactly who was doing what to whom, and why. But the Russians were about the only ones who seemed to have a clear motive and acted towards it. We also come in with the story feeling like it’s already in progress, and Keisha spends half an hour or so introducing us in voice-over to the various players, making her own character and aspirations feel very much like an afterthought, when they eventually turn up.

It is really the brutally obscure plotting which sinks this. The camerawork is occasionally impressive, and compared to other entries in the genre I’ve seen, the production values are mostly decent – the courtroom scene looked like a proper courtroom, though some of the FBI offices did feel rather… residential, shall we say! The ending isn’t even a proper ending, just a vague cliffhanger where the Russians head to Miami. I’ll confess to having drifted off about 70 minutes in, but like a good, conscientious reviewer, I rewound the movie (well, the digital equivalent of “rewound”!) and watched the rest again. The sad thing is, it didn’t make very much more sense when I was fully awake.

Dir: Jamal Doctor
Star: Yellow Diamond, Pritti Militant, Levar Hosten, Shamel Brown

The Reef: Stalked

★★★
“Canoe’s company”

This is a sequel to Traucki’s 2010 film, The Reef, whose synopsis reads: “A sailing trip becomes a disaster for a group of friends when the boat sinks and a white shark hunts the helpless passengers.” I haven’t seen it, yet based on that, I’m not sure I need to. Replace “sailing” with “kayaking”, and you’re more or less here. Perhaps lob in a bit borrowed from The Descent, the trip in this case being partly a memorial for a lost friend. Here, it’s to honour a woman who was drowned by her abusive husband. Her sisters, Nic (Liane) and Annie (Archer), head off with Jodie (Truong) and Lisa (Lister). It’s not long before they find themselves hunted by a shark, and needing to cross open water in order to get help for an injured young girl, who was also attacked.

I’m not joking when I say the shark here appears to be a metaphor for toxic masculinity, as seen in the sisters’ murderous brother-in-law. He is literally the only man in the entire film. Fortunately, once they hit the water, it’s easy to forget the rather heavy-handed messaging which we get at the beginning. However, it does mean you know the death-toll here will be limited, because otherwise the patriarchy will have won. It’s also definitely the shark film with the most F-bombs I’ve ever seen, because Australia. I will say, given the scenario, the heroines exhibit a real lack of urgency in their kayaking. I mean, I would be flailing away like an aquatic helicopter in their situation, rather than the languid paddling they tend to demonstrate.

On the other hand, the makers do an excellent job of combining footage of real sharks with practical effects and CGI, into a cohesive whole. The results are generally effective, and occasionally impressive. The relationship between the women is nicely portrayed; they are not saints, and bicker over the best way to address the situation. Nic seems to be suffering an odd kind of PTSD, after the trauma of discovering her sister’s body in the bath. This translates into her suffering from drowning flashbacks somehow. While I dunno quite how that works, maybe a kayaking holiday isn’t the best choice of vacation?

As ever though, movies like this really are not about logical analysis, because a fear of being eaten alive by sharks isn’t logical either. [They cause maybe 10 deaths a year worldwide, compared to 2,000 killed after being struck by lightning, something we literally use as a metaphor for extremely rare events] They need to connect with the audience on a more emotional, almost a primeval level, and this did it for me on enough occasions to justify its existence. I’m not convinced about the need to try and inject social commentary into shark movies: there are plenty of other horror sub-genres better suited to it. However, it’s still possible to set that aside and appreciate the simple, oceanic pleasures this has to offer.

A version of this review previously appeared on Film Blitz.

The Draka and the Giant, by Liane Zane

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

Liane Zane brings her Elioud Legacy trilogy to a rousing and powerful conclusion in this novel, which was actually my favorite of the three. (Full disclosure at the outset: Liane, who’s a Goodreads friend of mine, generously gifted me with a paperback ARC, because she knew I’d really liked the two earlier books. No promise of a good review was offered or requested; this book amply earned that on its merits.)

This is definitely a series that needs to be read in order. Our story here opens in medias res, and readers who begin here won’t have much knowledge of the premise or the situation –nor, especially, of the characters and their relationships. You really need the context of the first two books to fully appreciate this one. (With that context, though, it becomes a wonderful capstone to the arch the author has crafted!) However, for the benefit of readers who haven’t read either of those books nor my or others’ reviews of them, and who may not have seen the book description either, the titular “Elioud” are human-angel hybrids (matings between the two races having begun before the Flood, and some unions –or rapes of humans by fallen angels– supposedly continuing to occur). Depending on their degree of angelic inheritance, Elioud may have special abilities that most humans do not, and may be quite long-lived (as in, centuries) as well. Those who are aware of what they are may choose, like other humans, to knowingly serve God or Satan (or, also like many humans, to imagine that they can just ignore that whole conflict and be neutrals). But for those on one side or the other, the term “spiritual warfare” may be a lot more literal than it is for most believers.

Near the beginning of the series opener, the three heroines of the trilogy, a close-knit trio of cross-national friends in their early 20s, all of them both working for their respective countries’ intelligence services and involved on the side in a sub rosa vigilante operation of their own against sex traffickers and predators, met three long-lived Elioud warriors, who revealed to the ladies that they also have angel ancestry. Together, the six of them were involved in fighting the nefarious plots, continued across the first two books, of the fallen angel Asmodeus, who’s now set himself up as a cult leader for a sect of brain-washed humans who call themselves bogomili, after a medieval heretical sect (but who are a lot more malevolent and murderous than their earlier, peaceful namesakes). The other aspect of the series plot is that each member of these two trios felt a strong attraction to a member of the other one. It wasn’t hard to predict that each of the three novels would focus on one of these pairs, and that the course of their romance would be an important plot strand. So here, Beta Cerna and Andras Nagy take center stage.

For me, in the previous books, these two characters had always seemed the least interesting and appealing, largely because I didn’t really know them. Indeed, Beta (short for Alzbeta –she’s Czech) is hard to get to know. She’s a “lone wolf” with very few friends, and a brusque manner that can come across as practically feral. And because Andras is big, strong and taciturn, and mostly inclined to obey orders, it’s easy to fall into the trap of subconsciously dismissing him as not very smart or sensitive (though that’s a great mistake!). But here they come into their own; we see them as the complex and special people they truly are. The previous book ended with Beta arousing a sleeping, half groggy Andras for an unexpected sexual encounter in his bed –and then vanishing before morning. When this book opens, none of the other five main characters have seen her for three years (so it’s now 2018). But we soon learn that there’s been more of a reason for her disappearance than her commitment issues. Much is going on, and Asmodeus (and his fellow demon Yeqon. whom we met in the second book) are exponentially ratcheting up their plans, which won’t bode well for humanity if they come to fruition. But the Archangel Michael (directed, of course, by God, though here He operates offstage) has plans too….

Many of the strengths of the preceding books are evident here also. Zane realizes the settings well (events take place in several European countries), and flavors the narrative with glimpses of the various customs, languages, folklore and cuisine of the nationalities represented. Her characters are round, vivid, dynamic, and distinct (every one of the six main characters have their own unique personalities, rather than being clones of the others, but the supporting characters are also clearly drawn). There’s a strong good vs. evil conflict (with a recognition that we wage this conflict in our own hearts, not just with other people), with high stakes and a lot of dramatic tension. Though this isn’t commercial “Christian fiction,” it’s fiction written by a Christian (the author is a practicing Roman Catholic) and the basic message is Christian. (As in much supernatural fiction, the angels vs. demons conflict is a metaphor for the spiritual conflicts of the real world.) My one quibble here is that our heroes and heroines don’t pray much in crisis situations (and they’re up to their eyeballs in the latter, which would do wonders for my prayer life!). But that’s a fairly minor point. It was also actually easier for me to achieve “suspension of disbelief” here than in the first two books, despite the continuing murky points of angelology/demonology, and the ramping up of Elioud powers here (the mating of two Elioud warriors enhances their abilities). Perhaps that’s because by now I’ve gotten more used to my Elioud friends and their fictional world. :-)

Bad language here is minimal. There are some references to lewd and disgusting sexual behavior (Asmodeus and Yeqon hang out in Amsterdam’s red-light district, and their sexual attitudes are what you’d expect from demons), and one instance of premarital, though not casual, sex; but Zane doesn’t emphasize the former any more than she has to, and the latter is explicit only up to a point. (Basically, the romantic content is quite wholesome, and a wedding –I’m not saying whose!– is one of the more moving scenes in the book.) This is definitely the most violent book of the series, though, with two major pitched battles and a body count through the roof, not all of the casualties being bad guys. However, fans of action thrillers won’t mind this, and fans who like their heroines tough will love Beta. (She’s a deadly accurate shot with both a pistol and a long gun, but her favorite weapons are her chain whip and her karambit, a hooked originally Indonesian knife modified as a switchblade, which she finds it soothing to flick open and closed when she’s nervous, the way some people tap their foot. :-) )

While this is, like the others in the trilogy, a thick, substantial novel, at 525 pages it doesn’t feel a bit overly long; I was immersed and interested immediately, and stayed so for every page. It’s also a highly evocative read emotionally, with some beautiful writing and imagery in places (and some very grim images as well). I’d enthusiastically recommend it to fans of supernatural fiction with Christian themes, of action thrillers or action heroines (or heroes), and of paranormal romance.

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

They Flew Alone

★★½
“Puts the plain in aeroplane.”

This bio-pic of aviator Amy Johnson appeared in British cinemas a scant eighteen months after she disappeared over the River Thames. That put its release squarely in the middle of World War II, and explains its nature which, in the later stages, could certainly be called propaganda. There’s not many other ways to explain pointed lines like “Our great sailors won the freedom of the seas. And it’s up to us to win the freedom of the skies. This is first said during a speech given by Johnson in Australia, then repeated at the end, over a rousing montage of military marching and flying. I almost expected it to end with, “Do you want to know more?”

From the start, the film does a decent job of depicting Johnson (Neagle) as a likable heroine, who refuses to bow to convention – she’s first seen rebelling against the straw hat that’s part of her school uniform. We then follow her through university, though the degree apparently only qualifies her for jobs in a haberdashery or as a secretary (must have been a gender studies…). Unhappy with these dead-end occupations, she takes up flying, earning her pilot’s license and buying her own plane. It’s about here that the film really hits trouble, because director Wilson has no idea of how to convey the thrill of free flight. Endless series of newspaper headlines, ticker tapes and cheering crowds is about all we get, along with obvious rear-projection shots of Amy looking slightly concerned in the cockpit.

It’s almost a relief when the romance kicks in, represented by fellow pilot Jim Mollison (Newtron), who woos Amy while looking to set flight records of his own. Problem is, he’s a bit of a dick: quite why Amy falls for him is never clear. It’s clearly a mistake, with his drinking, womanising (or as close as they could depict in the forties!) and resentment at her greater fame and desire for independence eventually dooming the marriage – in another of those newspaper headlines. However, there is one decent sequence, when the husband and wife fly as a pair from Britain to America, largely through dense fog. This is edited nicely and, in contrast to all other flights, does generate some tension.

The bland approach includes Johnson’s final mission, depicted here as her running out of fuel while seeking somewhere to land in fog, bailing out, and drowning in the river. Cue the montage mentioned above, though the film does redeem itself with a final caption, worth repeating in full. “To all the Amy Johnsons of today, who have fought and won the battle of the straw hat – who have driven through centuries of convention – who have abandoned the slogan ‘safety first’ in their fight for freedom from fear – from want – from persecution – we dedicate this film.” It’s an honourable thought, considerably deeper and more well-executed than something which generally feels like it was rushed out, without much effort put into it.

Dir: Herbert Wilcox
Star: Anna Neagle, Robert Newton, Edward Chapman, Joan Kemp-Welch
a.k.a. Wings and the Woman

Amy

★★★
“What rules?”

It’s interesting to compare the approach taken in this biopic of aviation heroine Amy Johnson, made in 1984, with the one over 40 years earlier (and shortly after her death) in They Flew Alone, and note the similarities and differences. Both are relatively restrained in budget. The earlier one because it was a low-cost production, made during a war; the later one because it was made for television – and the BBC at that, never a broadcaster known for its profligate spending! As a result, both are limited in terms of the spectacle they can offer, and end up opting to concentrate on Amy as a character. It’s the cheaper approach.

This benefits from a little more distance, and doesn’t need to paint an almost beatific picture of its subject for patriotic propaganda purposes. It begins with Amy (Walter) already fully grown up and seeking to raise funds for her record-setting flight to Australia, despite only a hundred hours of solo experience. Actually, 102, as she points out to a potential sponsor, also delivering the line above. when it’s pointed out she’s not even supposed to be in the hangar. The film does a somewhat better job of capturing Amy in flight, with wing-mounted camerawork that’s an improvement over the obvious rear-projection used in Alone. Yet there’s still too much reliance on newspaper headlines, to avoid having to spend money, though there is some deft use, of what’s either genuine newsreel footage or artfully re-created, sepia facsimiles.

There is a similar focus on her failed marriage to fellow aviator, Jim Mollinson (Francis, who really does not sound Scottish at all), and he doesn’t come off much better than the character did in Alone. Jim is portrayed again as a drunken womanizer, though this version plays down the idea of him becoming fed-up at being overshadowed by Johnson’s exploits. It feels like there’s a slight hint of a romantic relationship between Johnson and earlier co-pilot Jack Humphreys (Pugh). There’s also a statement that she had an operation to prevent her from having children, which I had not heard before. But it does depict Amy as quickly becoming fed up with the endless appearances required by her Daily Mail contract post-Australia flight, which seems accurate: she was happier out of the public eye.

The biggest difference between the two films is probably the way they depict her death. This… simply doesn’t. It ends instead, in a 1940 meeting with her ex-husband, while they were both ferrying planes around Britain for the Air Transport Auxiliary. Barbs are traded, and Jim seems annoyed when a fan comes up seeking Amy’s autograph and ignoring him completely. She leaves for her flight, despite being told regulations won’t let her take off due to the conditions. “What rules?” she says, before a caption details her death in 1941. It’s understated, and that’s in line with the approach taken here – perhaps too much so. While I think it is slightly better than Alone, this feels mostly due to better technical aspects. I still can’t feel either film gave me a true understanding of what she was like, or what made her tick.

Dir: Nat Crosby
Star: Harriet Walter, Clive Francis, George A. Cooper, Robert Pugh

Chess Game

★★★½
“Queen takes king.”

I had to work quite hard to see this: while it is on Tubi, the subtitles there were only in Spanish, and so not much help (I’m still at the “Donde esta la biblioteca?” level). Fortunately, it then turned up on Vudu, and I bravely made my way through their crappy interface and frequent adverts to bring you this review. It was worth it. This is a solid slice of women-in-prison action/drama from Brazil, though perhaps less exploitative than I expected (especially given the country’s history in the sub-genre!) . I mean, Marins is a former model in Brazillian Playboy, so you’ll understand I had… certain expectations. Fortunately, the rest of the movie proved more than adequate to hold my attention. 

After a welfare fraud is discovered, Guilhermina Dos Santos (Fantin) takes the fall and gets a 16-year prison sentence, while the real mastermind, Senator Franco (Calloni) escapes consequences. Three years into her sentence, Mina has become top dog in the facility. After her parole request is turned down, the Senator decides it’s best if she ceases to be a problem. He pays the warden (Andrada), who bribes an inmate to shank Mina. The attempt fails, thanks partly to the intervention of new inmate, Beth (Marins), and Mina decides she needs to escape. With the help of a friendly guard, this is accomplished, with Mina, Beth and Mina’s lieutenant Martona now on the outside, where her sister, Juliet, offers her assistance. Mina kidnaps the Senator’s son, to force him to pay her share of the fraud profits. Yet not everything is quite as it seems, as things escalate towards a confrontation in a hospital.

Fantin, in particular, makes for an excellent heroine, especially when establishing her bad-ass credentials. There were points where this felt like an entry in the Female Prisoner Scorpion series from Japan – albeit less in terms of style, than Fantin’s attitude mirroring that of Meiko Kaji, and in its fairly cynical view of society in general. The plot is nicely handled as well, with the title proving quite appropriate, as Mina and Franco seek to gain the upper hand on each other. [I’ve also read that “chess” is a slang term for prison in Brazil, adding another layer of meaning] These twists continue until the film’s final shot, literally. However, the film does suffer from some pacing problems, e.g. a lengthy sequence where the escaped women shoot pool, drink and harass a man, brings things to a halt, just when it should be accelerating. I also have some questions, such as in regard to security in Brazillian jails, where it seems remarkably easy for multiple prisoners to waltz on out of there, with the help of just one guard. It’s not the only example of slipshod plotting, and it’s likely these flaws which stopped it from achieving a seal of approval, as it still does a lot in its eighty minutes. 

Dir:  Luis Antonio Pereira
Star: Priscila Fantin, Carla Marins, Antonio Calloni, Tuca Andrada 
a.k.a. Jogo de Xadrez