Category: Review

Real Dangerous People, by K. W. Jeter

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

This gritty and action-packed series was originally marketed in seven volumes. The new edition condenses that to four, by combining the first six into three and designating each component in the pair as either Part 1 or Part 2, the original title of each Part 1 serving as the new book title for both. So this book counts as two series installments. That’s a felicitous arrangement, because installments 1-2 (now paired as Real Dangerous Girl) and 3-4 here both fit together nicely as two self-contained two-part story arcs, each featuring protagonist/narrator Kim but centering on a different challenge each time, that starts in Part 1 and finds its resolution in Part 2. But the books should be read in order; here, references are made to persons and events from the prior installments, and in order to fully understand who Kim and her wheelchair-bound kid brother Donnie are, their situation, and the development of her character, you really need to have read the preceding part of the canon. Warning: this review will contain “spoilers” for the previous book(s).

As I’d deduced and mentioned in my review of installment 1 (I read and wrote about the first two as separate books: what is now Real Dangerous Girl Part 1 and Part 2), the setting is an unnamed city in western New York state. It’s not named here either; but references to docks and ocean-going commerce point to Rochester, which is on Lake Ontario and can access the Atlantic via the St. Lawrence River. Several months have passed since the end of the previous book; it’s now winter. One reference suggests that Kim’s still 17; but she has to be getting pretty close to 18. (A credibility problem with the series is that it’s hard to fit all of her backstory into 17 years.) We’re not actually brought up to speed on the intervening events until Chapter 3, and Kim’s wry description of her new line of work as “killing people” might give the idea that she’s been working as an assassin. She hasn’t –but she has opted to make her living with her .357 rather than her calculator; and as she recognizes, the possibility of lethal violence is always present, especially given the sort of people who’ll employ her.

At Cole’s funeral, a meeting with Curt, an old acquaintance of his that he’d recommended her to, led to a three-month gig in “security” for one Mr. Falcone, another mobster like her former employer, who now prefers to be called Mr. Falcon since he’s looking to shed his Mafia image; also like the late Mr. McIntyre, he’s moving to position himself as more plausibly “legitimate.” (So “security” work for him involves dealing with his double-crossing employees, and attacks by thugs working for his equally shady rivals.) Near the beginning of this book, she’s invited to join his personal bodyguard team, where a sudden vacancy has opened up. But the way it opened up isn’t encouraging…. Since there are a couple of more books in the series, we know that our girl’s going to make it home at the end of the day. But she doesn’t have any such assurance, and the chances of this job ending with a tag on her toe look pretty real. She needs the money, though, since failing to provide for Donnie isn’t an option she’ll accept; and she’s about to face another unexpected existential threat to her little family unit, from a totally different quarter.

As noted above, Kim’s character is developing, and not always in ways that please her. (In fact, some developments concern and scare her.) The criminal underworld she originally entered unwittingly when she landed a job with McIntyre’s now defunct organization has become pretty much her default environment. That’s partly because no legitimate business will hire her as an accountant with no formal credentialling, even if she’s good at it, but also because, though she doesn’t like to admit it to herself, at one level she thrives on the excitement, empowerment and adrenaline rush of life in warrior mode; and she takes fierce pride in being equally good at that. Thanks to Cole’s training, she’s a very accurate, quick-reflexed markswoman, and strong and agile despite her petite stature. (And she can now kill without batting an eye –though that’s a development she fully realizes is problematical.) This career choice puts her on a tightrope between the demands of her job and her moral instincts; the tension of walking it can make her cry and vomit at times. Shades of grey often define her alternatives; there’s a lot of food for thought here in terms of moral reflection, as there often is in this genre. That’s implicit in the story, though, not embodied in explicit struggles in Kim’s mind; survival generally dictates her choices, and the one here that many readers will most intensely disagree with and disapprove of is one she makes instantly and without having to agonize over at all. (Having a family of my own, I totally understand why she doesn’t have to.)

There’s no sex, licit or illicit, in this book (or the prior installments). Kim’s not without interest in sex; but like most teens, she sees herself as unattractive. She’s never pursued a relationship, and she’s taken to heart Cole’s advice that the best option for a hired gun is celibacy. (Though given that he was in a long-term relationship with a live-in girlfriend, he failed to practice what he preached.) Compared to the prior installments, there’s an increase in bad language here, including some use of the f-word and religious profanity, though Jeter’s use of it is still restrained compared to many writers who depict this milieu. (Kim’s own language isn’t as bad as that of her colleagues, though if I were her dad I’d still call her on some of it.) In fairness, given the kind of characters we’re dealing with, the language isn’t unrealistic. Violence comes with this territory; several people here exit the world with bullets in their bodies (some of them by Kim’s hand). But none of them are particularly nice people who would elicit any tears from the average reader; I can safely promise that “no innocents were harmed in the writing of this book.” :-)

In terms of literary quality, this is a highly gripping and emotionally evocative read, and a fast-paced one. Depiction of well-drawn, nuanced characters is one of the author’s strengths; Kim herself is a vital bundle of three-dimensioned nuance, but all of the cast here come to life. (Most aren’t especially likable, except for Donnie and Mae, but I do like Kim and root for her, despite her rough edges; Jeter lets me understand where she’s coming from, and her narrative voice makes me empathize with her.) There’s also more of a mystery element here than in the previous story arc, though I still classify this as action-adventure rather than mystery. It has to be said, though, that this book isn’t as well crafted as the preceding. There are editorial issues, some minor. but several more serious. In places details, plot elements and conversations are inconsistent with things written before, which can fray (though not break) the thread of the plot. (The worst of these is where a character dies in one chapter, but reappears alive in the next one!) That cost the book a star; but I’d still recommend it to all readers of the first book (though not as the starting point for the series). And I most definitely intend to follow the series to its completion!

Author: K. W. Jeter
Publisher: Lincoln Square Books; available through Amazon, both for Kindle and as a printed book.
Book 2 of 4 in the Kim Oh series, containing previously available titles Real Dangerous People and Real Dangerous Place.
A version of this review previously appeared on Goodreads.

My Day

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★★½
“Where the streets have no name.”

Sixteen-year-old Ally (Smith) is living her life very much on the fringes of society. Coming from a broken home, she is now homeless on the streets of London, relying on the dubious charity of questionable friends. Though Ally does have her limits as to what she’s prepared to do, she has no issue with occasional bits of work, delivering drugs for dodgy couple Carol and Gary. It’s this that gets her into trouble: a job goes wrong, after the customer tries to rape her, and Ally flees – without either the drugs or the money. Carol and Gary are bad enough. Yet even they live in mortal fear of their boss, Eastern European gangster Ilyas (Adomaitis). He wants his merch back – and Ally, as interest, for sale to his sex trafficking friends.

Ally ends up in Ilyas’s clutches, increasingly strung out on heroin. Luckily, help to escape comes from a couple of unexpected sources. First is Carol and Gary’s son Kevin (Jackson), who has bigger plans outside the estate on which he currently lives. Then there’s old age pensioner Frank (Kinsey – whom I remember from close to fifty years ago, playing a soldier on classic Brit-com, It Ain’t Half Hot Mum!), who has befriended Ally for his own reasons, is concerned by her sudden absence, and sets out to track her down. Are either of them prepared to cope with someone as morally bankrupt and brutally violent as Ilyas?

This is likely a fringe entry here, considering Ally spends much of the time lying on a squalid mattress, off her head. Yet there are likely just enough moments to qualify, and she has absolutely no aversion to using violence herself when necessary – beyond what any of her male allies can deliver. Although Ally is not a particularly likeable character, there is still enough of a moral code that I did find myself eventually warming to her. The problems here are more in the other cast members, who largely appear to be single-note descriptions, e.g. “kindly old codger,” with the actors not apparently given enough information to flesh them out by first-time feature director Miiro.

I did appreciate a slightly different view of London from the one often shown. Not least, it unfolds on the Western edge of the city, rather than the inevitable go-to when film-makers want to show deprivation, the East End (with an occasional foray Sarf of the river Thames!). Not that it looks notably different: still, it’s the thought that counts. The script somehow manages to end up both a bit too neat, and simultaneously leaving too many loose ends, which may be a result of this being an expanded version of the director’s earlier short. To be honest, it feels fractionally too earnest, in a Ken Loach kind of way, even if depicting a world where everyone is, to some extent, embedded in criminal culture. I suspect that was not the intended point, however…

Dir: Ibrahim Miiro
Star: Hannah Laresa Smith, Mike Kinsey, Karl Jackson, Gediminas Adomaitis

The Girl Who Got Away

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★★★
“The plot that got away.”

This isn’t the first movie I’ve seen, in which a woman escapes apparent death at the hands of a serial killer, only for them to track her down years later. However, the twist in the narrative here, which perhaps pushed it over the necessary boundary for inclusion on the site, is that the killer is also female. The victim is Christina Bowden (Johnson), who as a young girl was the sole survivor of Elizabeth Caulfield (Tuckerman) and her “child farm”, for want of a better phrase. Bowden has slowly put her life back together and is now a school teacher. She’s also looking to adopt another troubled teen, Lisa Spencer (McCarthy), and pay it forward. Then she gets a visit from local sheriff Jamie Nwosu (Iwuji).

For Caulfield has escaped during a transfer, and may be heading to finish what she started. Jamie does what he can to offer protection, but the stress is clearly taking an increasing toll on Christina and her psyche. Her relationship with Lisa disintegrates ad she tries to keep her in the dark about her own past.  Then dead bodies start to pile up. At first, it seems Caulfield is the obvious suspect, until the victims become people about whom she wouldn’t even know about, let alone have any reason to kill… If you are anything like me, you’re perhaps a bit ahead of the story, and there are some elements where you wonder why everyone is so slow to put the pieces together.

To the film’s credit it doesn’t stretch these aspects excessively. On the other hand, I still have questions about a number of the developments in the final act, some of which had me muttering “Hang on a moment…” under my breath. I’m prepared to cut it a certain bit of slack, for what had been a slow burn to that point, suddenly turned on the nitrous, and went fairly intense grand guignol. It’s a trade-off I’m usually prepared to make. It does help balance a movie that does feel overlong at 116 minutes, with elements in the early going, that never come to any particular fruition. I’d rather have seen more of Caulfield, who is backgrounded too far to be a truly effective horror threat.

That may at least be somewhat deliberate, as this isn’t exactly the horror movie implied by the poster. It’s perhaps more of a psychological drama, with thriller components. Regardless of genre or marketing, the performances are generally solid though. Johnson does an effective job of playing someone with a rough past, whose future suddenly does not look all that bright either. Over the course of proceedings, it’s certainly one hell of a character arc, and the audience are more or less compelled to go along with her, willingly or not. I can’t say it’s entirely successful as an entity, yet there are moments here that are effective enough. It may have been almost two hours, yet I didn’t feel they were entirely wasted.

Dir: Michael Morrissey
Star: Lexi Johnson, Chukwudi Iwuji, Willow McCarthy, Kaye Tuckerman

Hunting Ava Bravo

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★★★
“No business like snow business.”

I do admire a film which does not hang about, and this certainly qualifies. We begin with Ava Bravo (del Castillo) removing a hood to find herself in a very remote, snowbound mountain cabin. A cassette player nearby has a message. She has been abducted by Buddy King (Blucas), a millionaire with a fondness for kidnapping trauma survivors and hunting them through the wilderness. There’s a snowmobile parked five miles North, if she can make it across the winter terrain there. To make it fairer, Buddy has only three bullets for his gun. Oh, and he’s going to be coming up from the basement in ten seconds. Safe to say, this is the kind of start that grabbed my attention. 

It does have some trouble living up to it, with rather too much slack in what follows, even if the running time is under 80 minutes. Things do unfold largely as you’d expect, in what’s another variation on the ever popular Most Dangerous Game concept. Seriously, there have been so many now, I feel I should add a tag for that subgenre. So, we get Eva getting the drop on Buddy, only to find his cassette message was not entirely truthful, and she needs to keep him alive if she wants out. The rest of the film is a struggle between the two of them for dominance, and we learn a little of their histories and what makes them tick.

It probably needs some tighter plotting, e.g. a third party (Medina) turns up when needed by the plot. Though this does get explained, it wasn’t entirely convincing. I have… questions. Let’s leave it at that. This also applies to the ending, where Eva’s geographic knowledge suddenly seems considerably better than it was. However, this is made up for with a decent pair of lead performances, and some sequences which are effective and tense. Del Castillo should be known in these parts as the star of La Reina Del Sur and Ingobernable. This is a bilingual performance, with a chunk of unsubbed Spanish, though it’s mostly cursing.  [Sometimes having a wife of Cuban extraction has its benefits. I’m now fairly fluent in certain phrases you won’t learn on DuoLingo…]

This does come to play in what’s likely the tensest scene. Ava and Buddy stumble across two Hispanic hunters, leading to them both trying to convince the hunters that the other is the dangerous psycho. He has the bruises to support his case, and she is carrying the gun. However, she has the language advantage. It’s a well-written, performed and staged sequence, and shows where the film could perhaps have gone. Moments like this were enough to get me over the less interesting bits of chit-chat, though Ava’s matter-of-fact description of her previous abduction and escape is chilling in its understated nature. If it’s all too uneven to be wholeheartedly recommended, I felt there was enough here to justify its existence. 

Dir: Gary Auerbach
Star: Kate del Castillo, Marc Blucas, Halem Medina

Emily the Criminal

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★★★★
“Parks and Illegal Recreation.”

For six months or so, our morning routine involved the consumption of an episode of Parks and Recreation with breakfast. Our favourite character on the show was Ron Swanson, but not far behind was April Ludgate, played by Aubrey Plaza. She was the mistress of deadpan misanthropy, delivering lines like “I’m just gonna live under a bridge and ask people riddles before they cross.” We’ve not seen her in much since the show ended, but the concept of April Ludgate, career criminal, was too delicious to pass up. So here we are, yet I must admit, Plaza is almost good enough to make us forget April. Well, except for one roll of the eyes, which was vintage Ludgate.

She plays Emily, a young woman saddled with an inescapable pit of student loans, for a basically useless qualification, and an unfortunate felony relegating her to food delivery work. A chance encounter brings her into contact with Youcef (Rossi). She earns $200 for making a fraudulent credit-card transaction on his behalf, and is offered the chance to earn ten times that, for a larger, riskier purchase. With regular employment clearly not the solution, Emily embraces her new, illegal career, working with Youcef, much to the disdain of his Lebanese brothers. As their infighting escalates, Youcef decides to cut and run, only to be beaten to the punch. Emily won’t stand for that: “You’re a bad influence,” says Youcef, as he and Emily prepare to rob his brother. He’s not wrong. 

On one level, Emily’s situation is a result of her poor choices. Running up eighty grand in debt for an art degree and committing felonious assault are both decisions she made, of her own free will. These have consequences. Yet I increasingly found myself rooting for Emily, and her refusal to be ground down by the unfairness of life, or those seeking to exploit her – both in the legal and illegal employment sectors. She possesses undeniable smarts, and a righteous anger at the undeserved success of those she sees around her. Her wants are not excessive, and her crimes are… if hardly victimless, non-violent. At least, if you don’t count those who try to take advantage of her. For Emily wields a mean stun-gun.

If the world won’t give Emily a chance, playing by their rules, she’ll simply make up her own rules. She’s not willing to conform just to become society’s victim, and in this, weirdly, it has elements in common with urban flicks like The Bag Girls. There’s also no sense of honour among thieves, though the authorities and police in this movie are notable by their complete absence. Certainly, the threat of arrest is never a consideration for Emily, or at least, doesn’t alter her trajectory. The ending is ambivalent, to put it mildly: crime appears to pay, though it seems Emily may be addicted to the adrenaline high as much as the ill-gotten gains. While the morality here may be questionable, Plaza’s performance still makes it more than worthwhile. 

Dir: John Patton Ford
Star: Aubrey Plaza, Theo Rossi, Megalyn Echikunwoke, Gina Gershon

Useless

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★½
“[Obvious comment redacted]”

Giving your film a title like this is basically asking for trouble. It gives snarky critics an extremely easy weapon to wield against the movie. That’s especially so when it’s a low-budget effort, made with considerably more heart than skill. It’s not without merit, especially in the photography. It is crisp and does a good job of capturing some beautiful Montana scenery – there’s a reason the state is nicknamed Big Sky Country – and the rodeo action. The problems are in a script which never met a cliché it didn’t like, and performances that do little or nothing to elevate the material.

The very first scene has a mother professing her love to her daughter, Jessie (Wilson). Two minutes later, she dies in a car accident. That’s a good indicator of the level of plotting you can expect from this. Jessie goes to live with her uncle Mick (Bracich) and mopes around. A lot. She is eventually brought out of her shell after Mick buys her an equally broken equine called Lucky – I presume this is where the title comes from. Girl and horse bond, help each other to heal, and take part in the sport of barrel racing. This had apparently been her mother’s favourite pastime; not that we knew anything about this before she died, of course. I also hope you know all the intricacies of barrel racing, for the film assumes you do, rather than bothering to explain anything about it.

I get that Montana is a different world, with a slower pace of life. Yet the dramatic approach here is beyond low-key, to the point of soporific. Even when Mick has a stroke (damn, this family has some poor luck), Jessie’s reaction barely registers above the level of slight annoyance. It feels very much that Wilson was chosen, not for her dramatic abilities, rather her talent in the saddle.  To this non-horse person, she looked solid there: it turns out she was the 2017 Montana High School Rodeo Association Champion Barrel Racer, and has been in the sport since she was 4. So her action scenes are authentic and work. When she opens her mouth? Not so much. The subplot in which she has to chose between nice nerd Kyle (Christensen) and bad boy bull-rider Blaze (Olson), falls flatter than huckleberry pancakes as a result.

At the other end of the spectrum, is the musical score. This doesn’t so much enhance proceedings, as signal the intended emotions enthusiastically. It’s probably the first time a soundtrack could be accused of blatantly over-acting. Not that there is any particular sense of dramatic escalation. Instead of, say, building to a big barrel racing competition, things peak with an illicit party at which – gasp! ‐ alcohol is being drunk. While there is a contest at the end, with no build-up, it is also severely lacking in impact. It’s clear this was a project born out of and fuelled by passion. It’s also very apparent, that alone falls well short of being enough. 

Dir: Josiah Burdick
Star: Brooke Wilson, Mark Bracich, Michael Christensen, Brian Olson

Code Name Banshee

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★★½
“Daddy issues.”

This seemed considerably better in the trailer, which makes it look like quite an action-packed extravaganza. The reality is much less interesting, with a murky and confusing plot, and what action there is, is often filmed in a murky and confusing way. It begins with an agent, code name Banshee (King), quitting the government agency for which she works. The handoff of an asset went wrong: one of the colleagues involved was her father, who vanished entirely. The other was Caleb (Banderas), who went off the grid thereafter. Five years later, Banshee is a private assassin, but her latest job is interrupted by Greene (Flanagan), who wants her to give up Caleb’s location. 

Naturally, she won’t, and tracks down Caleb herself to warn him and his teenage daughter, Hailey (Davis) – as well as, hopefully, find the truth out about what happened to her father. Before she can do so, Greene shows up, with an apparently infinite supply of minions, who appear remarkably oblivious to concepts such as “taking cover”. To get to this point, you will have to endure a script that doesn’t bother explaining almost any significant point. I’m not sure why Greene is suddenly and energetically going after Caleb, half a decade later. Or why Banshee also waited so long to visit the only man who knows what happened to her father. Then there’s the facile ease with which she is able to track down Caleb, based entirely on a fragmentary conversation from a long time previously. Mind you, running a bar is not exactly what I would call “going off-grid”…

It is a bit of a pity, since I liked most of the characters, and the actors do a fairly good job of bringing them to life. King and Davis have good chemistry, and  Banderas brings an effective world weariness to his role, as a veteran who now just wants to be left alone. The highlight though, is likely Flanagan, who hits the right balance, creating a larger than life villain, without going too far into the chewing of scenery. The lack of apparent motivation – we never know who he’s working for, or why – does limit his effectiveness. 

The first bit of action may be the best elevator lobby fight since The Matrix, and does a good job of establishing Banshee’s credentials, even if there isn’t much else of a similar standard the rest of the way. Indeed, as far as Banshee goes, there’s not much at all, until Greene’s curiously incompetent henchmen start to show up at Caleb’s house, attacking in small, conveniently handleable groups. For… reasons, it’s largely down to Banshee and Hailey to hold them off, the latter proving that the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. So, two action heroines for the price of one. Yay. Just do not expect to learn the truth about what happened to dear old Dad, or you will be sadly disappointed. Actually, you may well be disappointed anyway…

Dir: Jon Keeyes
Star: Jaime King, Antonio Banderas, Tommy Flanagan, Catherine Davis

After the Pandemic

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★★½
“As generic as its title.”

A disease sweeps the planet, killing billions. The only ones with any hope of surviving in the outside world are the young, a small number of whom appear to have a natural immunity. Five years on, and Ellie is one of the few to have endured, scraping for a life among the leftovers of civilization. But she and the other survivors are the targets for the Stalkers: roaming groups of biohazard-suit clad hunters in white vans. They seek to capture the immune, for use in a project to develop a vaccine that can allow the elite to come out of their safe havens. While trying to avoid them, she encounters Quinn (Smith), another survivor with a wealth of knowledge, and a hard-edged approach to life. Initially, Quinn wants nothing to do with Ellie, though eventually realizes two heads can sometimes be better than one, in the never ending struggle to stay alive and free.

After the opening narrative, there’s a spell of over 20 minutes which are entirely dialogue free. It’s a brave choice, yet doesn’t hurt the movie, instead reinforcing the loneliness of the situation in which Ellie finds herself. I do have questions about so much time supposedly having passed. There are some suspiciously well-preserved corpses, and the world itself seems barely different from now, save for the shortage of people, without signs of decay. I was expecting more to be made of the youth element too, perhaps along the lines of Roger Corman’s cult flick, Gas-s-s-s, with a replacement culture having arisen to replace the geriatric one. Never happens: save for the age of the main characters, it’s irrelevant. 

The biggest issue, I felt, was there just was not enough going on here to justify the movie’s existence. After Ellie meets Quinn, the next hour largely appears to consist of them avoiding or running from the Stalkers. The pair of heroines are in severe need of some kind of goal, an end-game to which they are working, rather than, as it appears, merely basic survival on a day-to-day basis. The script seems to concentrate on the relationship between them, yet never puts in the necessary work beyond the superficial level. Why are the girls so different, given their similar experiences? 

While the performances are decent enough, the same goes for them: they get the job done, and no more. The occasional brief flashback proves almost aggravating rather than enlightening in this regard. Things do escalate down the stretch, with matters between Ellie, Quinn and the Stalkers coming to a head. Though if I was in charge of the last-named, I would have a quiet word about their collection protocols. Sloppy, and they pay the price. It is not quite enough to save the scenario. While you can’t point at much here that writer-director Lowry specifically does wrong, nor does he bring anything novel to the post-apocalyptic party, and neither is this done well enough to stand out from the crowd. Forgettably competent. 

Dir: Richard Lowry
Star: Eve James, Kannon Smith

Stolen Future, by Cameron Coral

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

A woman wakes up in a bedroom, with no knowledge of where she is, how she got there, or even who she is. Gradually, she (and the reader) find out the answers to at least some of those questions. Her name is Diya, and the bedroom is on Luna, which has now been settled and colonised by humanity. That’s the simple part. The rest? It’s complex. But is summary, she is a cyborg, created as part of a black budget research project by the NeuroDyne Corporation (Earth’s biggest employer – they basically own Iceland). An employee who had moral qualms about the scheme, smuggled Diya off-planet, stashing her with his blind sister Terry and a robot caregiver. But NeuroDyne aren’t letting their investment just walk away. 

It’s a bit of a slow-burn. While there’s no doubt that Diya has been significantly upgraded in a number of areas, her new talents are only gradually revealed. She doesn’t even leave the apartment until about a quarter of the way through, and that’s only briefly, to rescue Terry from some street thugs. The heroine does eventually head off on her own, seeking more information on the streets of Luna, with the help of a memory hacker called Ryken. However, that puts her firmly on NeuroDyne’s radar, who send another cyborg, called a Scyther, to track Diya down and bring her back. It won’t take “No” for an answer, and the company’s power gives their minion an almost unfettered lack of responsibility. 

It feels like Battle Angel Alita is definitely an inspiration, with both having a human-machine hybrid as a heroine, seeking her own identity in a futuristic, urban environment, and starting from a “blank slate”. The world Coral creates is quite detailed, and it’s nice that it is one we discover alongside Diya. This future is clearly one where corporations hold power, though in this volume at least, we only scratch the surface of their influence. That partial nature was, I think, my main complaint. Ending on a cliffhanger is one thing, yet this feels like almost nothing of significance has been resolved. For example, we barely know anything about Newt, the employee who freed her, or why he vanished from the apartment.

To be frank, it’s all a bit less than satisfying. I was left with the impression that the story was just about to get going, when I turned the (virtual) page to see “End of Book 1”. It feels like it wouldn’t be too hard to skip this entirely, start with the second part, and get to the meat of the action. This probably involves Diya realizing her true potential, working out what happened to Newt, and (if my instincts regarding the usual approach in this kind of thing, are in any way accurate) taking the fight to NeuroDyne. I think I am fine just figuring out the rest of the story on my own.

Author: Cameron Coral
Publisher: Independently published, available through Amazon, both as a paperback and an e-book
1 of 3 in the Cyborg Guardian Chronicles series.

The Woman King

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★★★
“Annalise Keating does not mess around.”

The above – though expressed rather more bluntly! – was Chris’s reaction to the opening scene, in which Nanisca (Davis) leads her female troops, the Agojie, in the ambush of slavers from the neighbouring Oyo tribe. The Oyo are rivals to the Kingdom of Dahomey, under King Ghezo (John Boyega), who relies on Nanisca and the Agojie to protect his territory, and it’s getting closer to all-out war. The Agojie get a new recruit, Nawi (Mbedu), whose father drops her off at the palace gate, because of her refusal to accept an arranged marriage. Nawi turns out to have a very close connection to Nanisca, but also ends up captured by the Oyo and needs to escape before being sold to Brazilian slavers.

I found myself disappointed by this split focus. Davis is great, commanding the screen in just about every scene, and looking every inch a credible army commander. Her physique is also impressive, considering she’s older than I am. The problem is, there isn’t enough of her, even in a 134-minute movie, and Nawi isn’t anywhere near as interesting. While Nanisca may be a fictional character (and I’ll circle back to this), she’s a unique creation. Nawi, on the other hand, feels like a lazy combination of tropes from other films. Never mind the training montage, I literally sighed when she goes back to help a struggling comrade in arms during her final test. The more I saw of her, the less interested I was.

The Agojie in general are an intriguing topic, and there has been some controversy over the film’s depiction of Dahomey. In reality, they were no less enthusiastic about slavery than their neighbours, and certainly didn’t limit themselves to captured enemy soldiers, as is kinda suggested here. However, I can’t say I was bothered. Heck, one of my all-time favourite films is Braveheart, which has only a tangential and tenuous link to historical fact. This deserves no less a pass. You have to accept that these days, you just couldn’t sell – to the audience or a studio – a film where slavers were the good guys. Or girls, in this case. Just do not attempt to pass this off as history.

While more accurate than Black Panther, which had its own female warriors, I’d say it is on a par with your typical Joan of Arc biopic, of which I have rather a lot of recent experience! Purely as entertainment though, it’s decent enough, with Prince-Bythewood possessing a good eye for spectacle. The various threads of Nanisca’s life are weaved together in a decent way, leading to a final confrontation that’s no less satisfying for being entirely expected [and reminiscent of another not-very-historical epic, Gladiator] However, at the macro level, it never quite meshed for me into more than a pleasant time-passer. Nanisca is a fascinating heroine, in need of a character arc. The problem is, Nawi is an interesting arc, in desperate need of a character. 

Dir: Gina Prince-Bythewood
Star: Viola Davis, Thuso Mbedu, Lashana Lynch, Sheila Atim