A Certain Scientific Railgun – S

★★★★
“Bigger, stronger, faster, better!”

Have you ever had this experience? There is a series you see and the series is fine, okay, solid. But without you noticing, you connect with these characters subconsciously, on an emotional level. As you watch them regularly, you get accustomed to them (though they are totally fictional) and don’t realize it until something happens, and you suddenly feel how much you have gotten attached to them. It’s not a new experience for me. It happens from time to time, but not often enough I would call it a rule, every time I watch a new TV show. Usually, I just passively experience the respective episodes and don’t waste much thought on it, least of all any kind of emotional investment.

It’s strange – at one point, when you started watching movies and series, you felt a strong emotional connection to everything, but today, it seems mostly gone. This does not only has to do with becoming a grown-up and seeing a lot more, but maybe also filmmakers and storytellers having forgotten the art of getting you emotionally involved in their plots and characters. But I have to say: A Certain Scientific Railgun got me, despite initially thinking I didn’t care much at all for the series. The show had been a satisfying, quite well told combination of “Slice of Life”-episodes, with some action-filled SF-arcs.

While for some. these “SoL” eps were unnecessary annoying filler episodes, I didn’t mind them. They provided additional colour to the big picture. I also was well aware I might not be the target audience: the Index series is the one supposed to be for the boys. Also, I went in without any specific expectations, always an advantage. Principally, I liked what I had seen, so had no problems with paying for another season. While sometimes things were maybe a bit too kawai for me, and the antics of a character like Kuroko Shirai could get on one’s nerves, the series was overall well thought-out, put attention into the details, and I enjoyed the emotional dispositions of the four girls, who all had their own character.

The next season arrived and… was even better?! Sure, it’s a subjective opinion, but I personally think the emotional investment I already had in the show paid off. The new season (from 2013, three years after the first was released) seemed to start like its predecessor: The girls going to school, spending time in their company, Kuroko abusing Mikoto… same old, same old, one might say. If one likes a season of a show, a new season is like meeting some good old friends again after a while. Then, the story starts to develop slowly… First in tiny steps that are hardly remarkable. There is a special art in storytelling when you are able to build up a story-line from small events to a big pay-off, when something finally can come to fruition and blossoms in a big climax.

People like Hitchcock, or some of the best action directors, know how to do that, but today I think it is virtually secret knowledge. I would certainly not have expected to find it in a Japanese anime, where you can be happy if one’s intelligence simply isn’t being insulted too much! It begins relatively harmlessly. Somebody claims to have seen Mikoto Misaka (our title-giving “scientific railgun”, thanks to her coin trick), but Mikoto wasn’t there at all. Then it happens again which leads to the girls talking about having a doppelganger, and eventually to the very interesting question, which forms the premise of this season: “What would you do, if you had a clone?”

Another strange thing occurs. Somebody is leaving envelopes containing money in small, dark side-streets, leading to people going on their own treasure hunt, and Mikoto & Co. try to find out who’s doing that and why. The story constantly builds and you slowly realize that you are paying much more attention to the show then you ever did before.  When Mikoto finally meets her doppleganger, it’s initially almost a shock. It leads to questions: who is the girl, why is she behaving so strangely, and where does she come from? Mikoto indeed has “sisters”. Actually, a lot of them. And these girls are part of an unethical and inhuman experiment.

The series really managed to grab me here totally, and part of it is due to the way the story is constructed, something I mentioned when reviewing the previous season. We grow attached to Misaka over time, and care for what she is going through emotionally. I don’t know what I would do if I met my clone, but I guess I would be quite angry about somebody stealing my identity and misusing my genetic map, which is something Misaka also feels. But there is something unexpected happening. While the Misaka clones appear a bit strange and speak about themselves in the third person, they are instantly likable and cute, it’s shattering to find out what kind of role they have to play in an on-going “experiment”. It was quite a shock, at least for me who came along with no idea of the evil hiding in the shadows (I’m not spoiling that here!).

Again, much of the effect of the series lies in its careful combination. On the one hand, you have cute school-girls doing harmless girly stuff: studying, social services, sitting in cafés, mocking each other, searching together (as happens in one episode) for a four-clover-leaf in a green field. Then, suddenly, a hole of darkness opens where very evil people do very evil things, with hardly any remorse or justification for their acts. The contrast makes this story shocking: in another darker show, it would have been your typical, average stuff. Here, I almost got the feeling I’d watched an anime written by the Brothers Grimm! While we have seen much worse, it’s the combination of different elements that makes this work so well.

Unfortunately, our protagonist makes the decision to play Batgirl and solve the problem alone, without her friends, which I found a bit questionable. The climax of the previous season had shown how effective these four girls are when working together, and this can also be seen at the beginning of this season. But I guess as the so-called “sister-story-arc” was also already featured, albeit briefly, in A Certain Magical Index, the writers here were bound to how events played out in that series. It doesn’t look good for our little railgun: She experiences fear, despair, helplessness and pain. It’s quite some time since I saw so many relatable and believable emotions in an animated character.

It’s always nice when a powerful character is “cut down to size”: it adds realism to any story. Fantasy and SF stories should have rules and powers should have limits. And 5-level esper Mikoto, who in the past was not above bragging about her incredible electro-talents, experiences these, physically as well as emotionally. We look differently at our protagonists when they are not the strongest kid on the block anymore. Here, we meet megalomanical, sadistic villain Accelerator, who is more than a match for Mikoto. But then, Misaka is not totally alone; for there is still Touma Kamijou, the protagonist of A Certain Magical Index, the boy who wanted to protect Misaka previously and whom she challenged to a power-fight. Maybe he can help?

There are interesting aspects here. Do super-powers make you susceptible to arrogance, because you start subconsciously to feel superior to everyone else? It’s something the powerless Saten worried about in the first season before meeting Mikoto. The character of Kongou, a level 4-esper is like that (though she becomes more sympathetic this season), as is another level 5-esper introduced at the beginning of this series. You calso remember the many, many times when Mikoto used her powers carelessly in the past. To paraphrase Francis Bacon’s famous sentence: if power corrupts, do then superpowers corrupt…um, superly?

It’s a thought, albeit never directly articulated here, and is definitely evoked when watching this story. We also get a brief look into Accelerator’s past: he has a reason why he does what he does. Once again, the show manages to give us some understanding as to the villains’ motives. It delivers a much more layered approach than just telling us, as so many stories across so many media do: this guy is bad, and has to go! It makes the show more well-rounded, the stories much more satisfying, characters more ambivalent and therefore – if I may use the word – realistic. Also, kudos to the writers of these stories for applying the laws of physics in a logical, and well-considered manner!

After this very well-built, suspenseful story arc, running from episode 2 until episode 16, I can understand why some felt the remainder of this season was a bit of a letdown. While we get another arc, the new one can’t quite compete with what happened before, though is decent on its own merits. For a while, we go back to small stories of the girls getting together and the usual jokes like e. Saten pulling up Uiharu’s skirt to embarrass her. Yes, that’s a thing. It’s alright by me. After you have clashed with the Big Bad, it’s absolutely fine to have another episode where your heroines are in a hurry to bring a cake to a meeting, where they drink tea and say goodbye to a friend who is moving away. It’s the “slice of life” aspect: if you are in for the meal, you have to eat the vegetables, too!

This season is not perfect; nor was the previous one. A possible flaw is it becomes almost a one-girl show with Mikoto on her own and her friends reduced to side characters e.g. Kuroko constantly worrying what is up with Mikoto and where her best friend spends her nights. Fortunately, this is corrected in the second story arc, dealing with Febri, a little girl who is the subject of an experiment herself. Mikoto finally learns she not only has good friends, but to take help when it’s offered. The power of friendship can even deal with very well-equipped forces of the dark and shady “underworld” in Academy City. These little lessons of morality integrated into the show, definitely leave a feel-good-feeling at the end.

Finally, we even learn about the motivations of some of the villains in the background. In a city where all those highly-enabled people are the focus of everyone’s attention, the “normal” people, regardless of how ingenious they may be or how hard they work, have hardly a chance of ever getting their spot in the limelight. Being constantly neglected can make you do very terrible things. But again: not everyone working on the side of the bad guys is necessarily an enemy and Mikoto gets her “Will Graham vs. Hannibal Lecter”-moment, so to speak! Once again the arc is well-built and develops the sensitive, emotional touches which make the show more than the usual action.

It ends in a very satisfying finale which sees almost everyone, including second-tier characters, join Mikoto’s final battle against the evil scientists’ group. There’s still a deadly satellite in orbit that could destroy Academy City unless Mikoto and Shirai get up there and blow it up in time. Shouldn’t be a problem for Mikoto, the city’s famous railgun, right? Watching this series felt for me a bit like seeing Kim Possible in an X-Files plot, spiced up with some great action from a Hollywood blockbuster. Though I could have done without the show’s main musical theme playing, once again, over the battle scenes during the finale. Here the producers really should have invested in some action music!

Some questions remain. What exactly will happen to the almost 10,000 “sisters” of Misaka? Are there other powers in the shadows we have not seen yet? Or is Academy City now free of big criminal-scientific organisations? Will Misaka get together with Touma? Probably not, since in his own series he has quite a harem of female followers. And what is with her obsession over that frog? Stay tuned, for J. C. Staff, the studio behind the show, also produced a third season, which came out a good seven years after this one. At least something good that came out of that terrible year! So, let’s continue…

Dir: Tatsuyuki Nagai and others
Star (voice): Rina Satō, Satomi Arai, Aki Toyosaki, Kanae Itō

A Certain Scientific Railgun

★★★
“Beware level 5-espers when they point their fingers at you!”

Have you ever noticed, when you are consciously looking for things that fall into a certain category, you find more and more of them? You may have seen it in action yourself after you discovered the “girls with guns” genre. Compare it to the time before you knew about it, how few movies/series there seemed to be there, and how much you realized were actually available after this site drew your attention to the specific genre. I have started to experience the same thing since I started to look into anime, and in particular the specific target of entries belonging to the GWG genre, that go beyond your usual Miyazaki-Ghibli production.

But then, anime seems like a bottomless pit; I recently saw a video by a German anime fan and publisher, who said there are thousands of anime being produced each year. For the year 2017 he spoke of 3,400 (!). I don’t know if that’s true: but considering, for example, how many Hong Kong martial arts movies I found when I really was looking for this specific kind of entertainment, I wouldn’t be surprised if it was true. Of course, he also admitted most of these anime series are garbage, get ignored and vanish as fast as they appeared. The Japanese manga and anime market is every bit as focused on turning an idea into a highly profitable product (including action figures, OVAs, soundtracks, etc.) as your average Hollywood franchise.

They may perhaps be even more calculated. The business is a highly competitive one, with studios opening and closing every year: they only stay in the business for as long as they produce successful series, and a lot of underpaid animators work free-lance. As enjoyable as this stuff can be, the production background is merciless. It’s maybe better to ignore it, especially as most of these series on DVD are just too expensive (though I never bought bootlegs, but if the Anglo-American territory offers a cheaper alternative, why should you buy over-priced German-dubbed volume boxes?).

But onto the subject of this review. This is a spin-off of another anime series, A Certain Scientific Index, which preceded Railgun. I’m not reviewing the original show, or its other spin-off, A Certain Scientific Accelerator, but would like to stress that while Index is a good show, Railgun is much better. All these series are based on the manga and light novels of author Kazuma Kamachi. He, obviously, is continuously working on his own fictional universe. There are so many volumes of the respective series out there, people on YouTube are making videos on what series to read/watch, and in which order, to get into it without having to consume everything that is on the market. The three seasons of the show I review here have alone already reached 69 episodes.

Index deals with a male character, Kamijou Touma, who has to solve problems of girls and other people, that are either of a magical or a supernatural (read: scientific) nature. Railgun puts a supporting character from Index, middle-school girl Misaka Mikoto, and her female friends to the center of the viewer’s attention. While Railgun might have been created to cater to a female audience, it may have become more popular for a general audience, similarly to how Xena overtook Hercules in popularity. Part of the reason may be Misaka Mikoto’s cuteness, for the Japanese love everything that is “kawaii”.

Misaka is an esper of the highest degree, level 5. And while she is one of only seven level-5 espers in Academy City, this is not as unusual as it may sound at first. For the whole city is filled with students that Charles Xavier would probably have called “extraordinarily gifted”! They are all learning to develop and use their abilities at school, though for what purpose I still have not found out; is there a job market for those kind of abilities? Still, given their powers it’s a very sensible thing to do, since otherwise the students might easily misuse their powers.

It’s understandable if this sounds a bit like your typical X-Men animated show from the late 90s. But those shows were primarily concerned with showcasing the abilities of these supernatural beings and adapting the most well-known comic book story-lines. Railgun is a bit different. Heck, it may not even really belong to the same genre as the X-Men, and very often puts its focus elsewhere. It may be the reason this series originally was of minor interest for many. While the girls from time to time show what they are capable of, the main narrative is telling nice little stories about the girls’ everyday life. Getting to know each other, their own little (or bigger) problems and oddities, going out in their spare time and… yeah… Occasionally solving some crimes and blowing things up!

This kind of tale is called “a slice of life story” and is its own genre in Japanese manga and anime. While we have that in the West too, I never noticed and probably would categorize this mainly as “drama”. But then this genre can obviously encompass more, as it is in part a social drama about girl friendships, part sitcom and (here) part superhero story. What to make out of this is, I think, up to individual taste. I can absolutely understand that, for many in the West, this kind of story is unusual; those expecting an ongoing superhero saga will likely be disappointed by this kind of storytelling. I personally found it charming and fresh, even though there certain elements did astonish me. The closest thing to this kind of show in the West might be something like Smallville.

The girl group here consists of the following. Misaka, who is able to control, and more importantly unleash an enormous amount of electricity. Her room partner, Kuroko, who is a teleporter and has a very painful-to-watch crush on Misaka. Uiharu, whose power is somewhat vague, but it is indicated that she can control the temperature of things. And finally, her best friend Saten, who surprisingly has no superpowers at all. Which actually comes in very handy at the end of the story, because sometimes having such a talent can be your Achilles heel.

Other characters include, Konori, a normal teen working for “Judgement”, kind of a social service which Kuroko and Uiharu also join. These teens maintain order on the streets, ranging from helping find a lost bag up to preventing innocent people being harassed or beaten up by outcast rowdies. Then there’s the school director who regularly seems to break Kuroko’s neck (or at least it sounds like it!), when she and Misaka use their powers on school property. The strange Doctor Kiyama who turns out to be the local legend known as “The Undresser”. This means she regularly takes her clothes off without any embarrassment, for minor reasons like it being too hot. No, I’m not making this up, I swear. It’s part of the story.

In the beginning Uiharu and Saten get to know Misaka who, much to the astonishment of Saten, isn’t arrogant at all, as most high-level espers seem to become. Misaka is a cool, sympathetic girl, constantly angered by… the affections of Kuroko, whose feelings for her are definitely more than platonic. It’s kind of shocking sometimes for me, when behavior we would probably label as bordering on sexual assault, is depicted in an animated show, largely targeted towards teen girls. But then this is anime and we all know it operates with different parameters from Western entertainment! Also, the show never takes itself too seriously. Except when it actually does, but more on that later.

Misaka sees through all Kuroko’s attempted manipulations and when Kuroko goes too far, you can expect Misaka to throw her (virtually) out or use her electro-powers on her. The pair remind me in their strange “dog-cat-relationship” of DC’s Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy, with the difference that the Japanese versions are the good gals! It’s just natural that hotheaded tomboy Misaka is the leader of the group. Though she mainly keeps her powers in check, she may from time to time break the rules, such as by duping the public vending machine or when hunting an evil-doer. You know something not so good is coming your way, when she tosses a coin with enormous power in your direction.

While she has a temper on the outside, she is a sweetheart on the inside, caring very much for her friends and the people around her, and is definitely in the process of learning to trust others and to open her heart. Her most beautiful moments are when she is emotionally touched and doesn’t know how to articulate what she feels. It grounds this over-powered character and makes her more human. Indeed this “over-poweredness” was the reason why Kazuma Kamachi originally wanted to make Kuroko the main character, but the publishers saw it differently. Mikoto is not perfect despite all of she is being able to and that makes her so relatable.

These powers are what gave her in the previous Index show the name of “Railgun”- in her words, “because even objects of a minor size can generate an enormous power when thrown with enough energy in one’s direction”. She also comes across Touma, the main character of Index, who embarrasses her when he tries to rescue her from the company of some teenage boys. Unfortunately for him, she takes his well-meant help as a personal insult, which leads her to constantly challenge him to a fight. Unfortunately for her, his special power is that the talents of others don’t really function when he holds up his hand. Hilarious scenes ensue.

It’s a good show in the GWG anime genre, though in my book no match to highlights such as Black Lagoon, Canaan or Mirai Nikki. If you are in the mood for something a bit different, that shouldn’t be taken too seriously, this might be something for you. It’s sometimes light as a feather, followed by solid SF action and intriguing plots, while still retaining its own certain charm. It may not sound like too much, but having recently watched the dense and sometimes difficult to understand Bakemonogatari, I actually enjoyed this much more.

The series consists of a nice mixture of stand-alone episodes and a very slowly building story-arc. I like that very much, as it gives time to build each of the characters, their relationships to each other and emotional connective moments for us, the audience. This kind of structure also did remind me a bit of the old X Files show with its single episodes, in contrast to today’s series, which tend to have a constantly developing story arc. You miss a few episodes and you’ve got problems catching up, and trying to understand what’s happening again.

That’s not the case with Railgun. The series initially takes its time, with the girls and their everyday life the focus of attention. Then, to my surprise, it moved to a bigger story with unethical experiments performed on helpless esper kids, and dark forces lurking in the background. It’s almost shocking, since the place we have been shown here mostly seemed sunny, funny and enjoyable. The biggest problems the girls ever faced, was how to deal with personal little insecurities. But where there’s light, there must be shadow, too! Local urban legends of a “level-upper”, a device said to improve or increase one’s esper abilities, make the rounds and while investigating these seem a harmless leisure activity for the girls, the outcome is much bigger than anyone could have foreseen in the beginning.

After a big climax it looks to go back to square one, and we return to small “what did XYZ today” stories. But then a new girl appears and so-called “poltergeist activities” happen around her, leading to another, much bigger challenge which also includes a twist. Not everyone you think must be put behind bars is evil; not everyone you trust is trustworthy; and sometimes the one with the least powers can be the savior of the day.

What I especially liked was that each of the girls is their own character and acts differently. They are not just bland copies of each other with only differing abilities. While I don’t think many people will ever get to know this series if they are not deep into anime, I especially enjoyed the way it structured its story. We in the West may have had our Kim Possible, the Japanese post-Sailor Moon have this. I liked it well enough to invest time and money in the second season, A Certain Scientific Railgun – S, which will also be reviewed here.

Dir: Tatsuyuki Nagai
Star (voice): Rina Satō, Satomi Arai, Aki Toyosaki, Kanae Itō

The Jo Modeen series, books 1-3 by Frank H. Jordan

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

The structure here is kinda odd. While each of the three volumes included in this omnibus are effectively standalone stories, they each feel so slight as almost not to be worth bothering with. In particular, there seems to be a lot of descriptive padding, covering journeys, meals and technical trivia that don’t develop character or push the story forward. The heroine – nominally, at least – is Jo Modeen, who had become the first woman to be accepted into the elite Special Air Services regiment of Australia. Two years after leaving the military, she finds herself at a bit of a loose end, until contacted by her former CO, Ben Logan, who makes her an offer.

He wants to bring her in as part of his team at NatSec, a covert operations group affiliated with the Australian Intelligence Service. They are “called in when diplomacy and other methods fail,” to solve problems of Aussie national security. The first volume largely concerns her training, with a brief diversion early on, to deal with a case of domestic abuse. The second sees Jo’s father, a magistrate, one of three high-ranking officials kidnapped by terrorist group, the Spear of Allah at a conference in Brisbane. And the third sees the group kidnap Ben’s wife and daughter, in an effort to coerce him into using his team to do jobs in their interests. Really, on the basis of this block, it feels like the members of NatSec and their families cause more problems than they solve.

The main issue is that, in volumes two and three especially, this becomes much more of a team effort, rather than concentrating on Jo. The NatSec team typically ends up getting split-up, with smaller groups performing various tasks, whether it’s surveillance, hostage rescue or whatever. This significantly dilutes the book’s focus, with Jo feeling like she has been forgotten about for multiple chapters in a row. I mean, as generic action, kick the butts of the terrorist stuff, it’s marginally okay. But I definitely expected much more focus on Jo, to the point I wavered over whether or not it even qualified for this site.

There’s also a problem in that she is rather too high-powered. The blurb compares her to Jack Reacher: I’ve not read those books, but we’ve been watching the TV show, as well as the Tom Cruise movies, and it takes a good deal of finesse to make someone who’s so amazing, work on the screen, or the page. I’m not seeing that finesse present here. We do get extended description of how pretty Jo is. On the other side, the Spear of Allah are… well, a bit crap as terrorist groups go. In almost every confrontation with NatSec, they’re easily defeated, and you never get much sense of them being a genuine threat. The end result is conflict without real drama, and I’ll not be going any further.

Author: Frank H. Jordan
Publisher: A Hope, available through Amazon, only as an e-book
Books 1-3 of 12 in the Jo Modeen series.

Hard Home

★★★
“Home not alone”

Mary (Kessell) has a grudge, and probably with good reason, I’d say. Because the serial killer known as Diablo killed her daughter, Kelly, in a particularly brutal manner – finishing his victim off by burning her alive. With the help of information provided by FBI Agent Selena Wall (Adedeji), Mary puts the pieces of the case together, and eventually lures Diablo (Howard) into attacking her, then brings him back to her house. This has been turned into a hi-tech, maze-like warren designed to force Diablo to confront all his crimes, and in particular his murder of Kelly. Naturally, things don’t quite go as intended. Expecting rational, predictable behaviour from a serial killer was probably a mistake by Mary, despite her technological advantages.

This is certainly a novel take on the themes here: part serial-killer film, part vengeful mother flick. The script generally does a good job of dispensing information at a pace that keeps the viewer’s interest, without revealing everything up front. For example, after Mary gets injected with Diablo’s chosen paralytic drug, there’s a flashback which shows her injecting herself with the same stuff, in order to build up her tolerance, and use this to future advantage. It is a bit of a stretch that she has the perfect set of skills necessary for her task: home improvement, dark web knowledge, twelve years of Brazilian jiu-jitsu, etc. The agent funneling information to Mary is also just a little too convenient. 

If you can overlook these speed-bumps though – and I didn’t find them too problematic – there is still a good amount to enjoy. This starts with Kessell, who comes over as a significantly more credible bad-ass than Jessica Alba in Trigger Warning. She has one mission, and is absolutely not going to let anything or anyone (be they Diablo, her husband, a nosy neighbour or the authorities) get in the way of it. In the early stages after capturing Diablo, she becomes somewhat passive, sitting in her control centre and pushing buttons. But once things go off-track, she is forced into more reactive and pro-active behaviour, the film gradually picking up steam until an impressively grim ending (albeit with a rather odd coda, one I don’t quite get).

Bamford showed up here earlier this year with another film, Air Force One Down. Although this is a little lower on the action scale, up until the end where Diablo and Mary go toe-to-toe, it is balanced out by Home Hard working better in terms of plotting. If flashbacks are sometimes used as a crutch for weak writing, here they are well integrated and move the plot forward. Among the cast, in addition to Kessell, praise is also due to Howard. He doesn’t get a single line over the course of the movie, yet still manages to portray a creepy and despicable villain. However, Diablo might not be as frightening as Mary, who feels the very embodiment of irresistible force.

Dir: James Bamford
Star: Simone Kessell, Andrew Howard, Rachel Adedeji, Joseph Millson

Republic Pictures will release the film digitally on June 25. 

Trigger Warning

★½
“May contain boredom, stupidity and poor action.”

There’s an old joke about bad movies: “This film wasn’t released, it escaped.” It seems disturbingly appropriate here, however, considering the shooting of this finished in October 2021, and it has been part of our annual previews for 2022, 2023 and 2024. Quite why Netflix sat on the end product close to three years, I don’t know. But having watched it, I can confidently say: it wasn’t long enough. This is the kind of movie that left me feeling actively more stupid by the end of it. Alba plays Parker, a soldier who returns to her hometown in rural New Mexico after her father is killed in a mile accident. Only, of course [and that whirring sound is my eyes rolling], it turns out not to be an accident.

From here spirals off a ludicrous plot in which local ne’er-do-well Elvis (Weary) is selling heavy armaments,  include machine guns and RPGs, to domestic terrorists. His family basically runs the town: brother, Jesse (Webber), is the town sheriff, and his father is Senator Ezekiel Swann (Hall), an obviously Republican politician running for re-election. It’s up to Parker to stop the bad guys, who are so evil, they burn down the bar which is Parker’s inheritance from her father. Named after her grandmother, he apparently built it when he wasn’t busy being a miner. Or a Green Beret. It’s all a bit vague. This is as authentic a portrayal of Hispanic culture as you’d expect, given a script written by three white people, which unironically uses the word “Latinx”.

It’s also directed by an Indonesian which, in a nod to the politics criticized by the movie, makes me want to go on a rant about foreigners coming over here and takin’ er jerbs. For, after all, there are plenty of American directors who are perfectly capable of making shitty action films with ham-handed social commentary. We do not need to be outsourcing this work. However, we maybe should look at outsourcing Jessica Alba. Possibly replacing her with a stick insect, since she is among the least convincing soldiers I’ve seen. The action is equally dumb: it’s the kind of movie where a bad guy picks up a chainsaw in a hardware store fight, and it starts, apparently being fully fuelled.

The whole thing is littered with similar elements which had me shaking my head. Parker can waltz into any location at will, such as finding the exact file she needs in the police station within ten seconds. While most recent Netflix action heroine films have been forgettably acceptable ways to pass a couple of hours, this one probably competes with Interceptor over the coveted crown of Worst Netflix Original. It’s amazing to think how far Alba has fallen from the glory days of work like Sin City. For Jessica’s sake, I hope her cosmetics company endeavour is working out. Because she seriously needs to rethink this whole acting thing.

Dir: Mouly Surya
Star: Jessica Alba, Mark Webber, Anthony Michael Hall, Jake Weary

The Marvels

★★
“Bombs away!”

Like it or not, the history of action heroines is littered with commercial failures. Cutthroat Island set the gold standard for a long time, but there have been many others, from Barb Wire through to Mulan (no – the other one…). The reasons for their failure varied: sometimes the film was at least partly to blame; sometimes, it was external factors. But last year, The Marvels took things to a new height. Not just the biggest bomb of the year. Or even the biggest bomb in girls with guns movies. While Hollywood accounting will always leave such things uncertain, The Marvels may well be the biggest loss-maker in film history. It had a production budget of $270 million, which doesn’t take into account marketing or other post-production costs, and took in only about $206 million worldwide. Take off things like the cinemas’ cut, and the loss for Disney and Co. is estimated at a staggering $237 million.

Why did The Marvels fall so hard? To be honest, discussing that is perhaps more interesting than talking about the film itself. Not that it’s terrible. There are movies where, you see three minutes and are left wondering, “What the hell were they thinking?” and whose failure was inevitable. Cats, for example: even as something of a connoisseur of bad movies, I’ve not been able to bring myself to watch more than clips. The Marvels is not on that level. Sure, it’s not very good, and we will get to that. But it’s no worse than other movies from the Marvel and DC Cinematic Universes. Line this up with Morbius, Suicide Squad and Madame Web – I’d defy someone without prior knowledge to point the finger at The Marvels as being the worst-ever bomb.

I think a whole slew of factors went into its failure, beyond the quality of the movie. As we saw recently with Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga, even good films can tank abysmally. Here, in no particular order, are the elements I think were involved:

  • Superhero fatigue. After Avengers: Endgame, interest and ticket sales could only go down.
  • A sequel to a film no-one wanted. Sure, Captain Marvel did well. But it was certainly helped because it came between Infinity War and Endgame. She is not anything like an iconic character.
  • A run of underwhelming Marvel entries. Thor, Black Panther, Ant-Man, Guardians of the Galaxy. All made less than the preceding films in those franchises, and were less well received critically. At some point people will just stop watching.
  • General downtown in cinema going. The pandemic whacked the legs out from box-office returns, and people haven’t come back. In this case, perhaps related to:
  • Quick release on streaming. It was available on Disney+ less than three months after hitting cinemas. Anyone on the fence would be forgiven for thinking, “I’ll just catch it at home.”

It’s worth mentioning a couple of reasons I don’t think had much impact. Some suggest the actors’ strike handcuffed the film, preventing the stars from doing publicity for it. Others blame a backlash against women-led movies. But neither of these seem to have affected other entries. For instance, you might have heard of this little woman-led film called Barbie? It did okay, or so I’ve heard. You don’t need to invoke conspiracy theories to explain The Marvels‘ failure. The fact it’s taken me, a devoted fan of action heroine movies, more than seven months to get round to watching it, probably tells you all you need to know.

So, let’s get to the film, which sees three action heroines for the prices of one! How can you go wrong? Well… As well as Carol Danvers, a.k.a. Captain Marvel (Larson), there’s Monica Rambeau (Parris), whom I last saw as a little girl in Captain Marvel, so I guess several decades have passed since then? Like so much here, don’t expect an explanation. She apparently got superpowers after some “Hex” thing, and can manipulate electromagnetic radiation. There’s also Kamala Khan (Vellani), Ms. Marvel, who is a dedicated Captain Marvel fan-girl, but has powers courtesy of a magical bangle. However, the other bangle is in the possession of Dar-Benn (Ashton), leader of the Kree who intends to use it for malicious purposes. Because reasons, Danvers, Rambeau and Khan swap places with each other whenever they use their powers, which complicates trying to stop Dar-Benn.

I’m not prepared to swear to all of the above, since the film makes the assumption I have seen the related TV shows WandaVision and Ms. Marvel, which fill in the background of both Monica and Kamala. I have, in fact, not. This, combined with my general apathy about the MCU, left me frequently confused and/or uninterested in the finer points of whatever was going on. The lack of internal characterization present here which resulted from it, left me not caring very much about anyone – especially Khan, who seems like an annoying teenager, shoehorned in purely to appeal to other annoying teenagers. [Memo to Marvel: make movies to appeal to a minority, and only a minority will find them appealing] Rambeau isn’t much better, and Danvers just seemed like your basic, overpowered superhero.

Most of the running-time – and, at least, it’s relatively short, not much more than 90 minutes before the closing credits start – is spent bipping around the galaxy, going to places the film presumes we know, and meeting people we are supposed to recognize. I would say, the budget shows up on screen, and the action is decent, especially when the three heroines figure out how to team-up properly. But it tends to have the same problem as in Captain Marvel, where the fights frequently feel so artificial as to be lacking in impact. The only sequence which genuinely entertained me had the crew of a space-station pursued and eaten by feline-shaped extra-terrestrials, while Midnight from the musical Cats plays. It’s utterly glorious. Shame it is also so totally at odds with the po-faced approach generally taken elsewhere, which leaves little or no impression at all.

To be honest, I’d rather have five $50 million movies than one costing $270 million, and if this brings an end to the fondness for ridiculously over-priced Hollywood movies, it’s a price I’m willing to pay. It’s a shame it will, almost certainly, have a negative impact on our genre, because we’ll be forced to hear again that nobody wants to see action heroines. That’s not the case, of course. But if you spend more than a quarter-billion dollars and this underwhelming result – complete with, inexplicably, musical numbers – is all you can manage, it’s not hard to conclude something needs to change.

Dir: Nia DaCosta
Star: Brie Larson, Teyonah Parris, Iman Vellani, Zawe Ashton 

Guilt

★★½
“Guilty of being kinda dull…”

This starts off strong, with an attention grabbing scene where a woman gets a visit from a plumber. She offers him a glass of water, and… Things do not go as expected. For the woman is Jessie (Shay), a psychiatrist on a mission. She has made it her purpose in life to punish paedophiles whom she feels have been too lightly punished by the law. The man is one such, and it does not end well for him. Specifically, he is stabbed, and buried in a shallow grave, deep in the Australian outback. Safe to say the film has got my attention. Unfortunately, it’s more or less downhill all the way from here.

The main problem is probably the script, which fails to build on this dramatic opening. For example, shortly after, we see a policewoman, Detective Swan (McKenzie) puzzling over the unexplained disappearances of a number of paedophiles, and it appears to be setting up a cat-and-mouse hunt. Except, she all but vanishes for the next hour, only reappearing significantly at the end. There’s also Jessie’s relationship with her younger sister. Or the hint that some kind of PTSD is responsible for Jessie’s vigilante activity – either connected to her own childhood, or perhaps her experiences in the military, where she served in the Middle East. None of these elements ever come together, feeling more like loose ends than coherent parts of the story.

Instead, she eventually kidnaps Grace (Flowers), a woman who helped her boyfriend to traffic in young children, but who claimed to be abused by him, and so was considered a victim as well. Similarly, if properly developed, this could have been a good source of tension. Was she actually an accomplice, just playing the abuse card? Again, the script seems almost to get bored with itself and drifts away to Vigilante Movie Cliche #45, where Jessie discovers that one of her previous victims was actually innocent. This triggers an existential crisis in Jessie, and she carelessly leaves her thoroughly incriminating diary for the receptionist at work to find, giving Detective Swan the break in her case she needs. Yeah, you’ll understand why I rolled my eyes a bit at that.

I did appreciate the effort to be nuanced. Given the topic of avenging angel versus child molesters, it would have been very easy to become a one-sided and shrill polemic (we’ve seen those in the past). Here, there’s a bit more subtlety, acknowledging that everything isn’t necessarily black and white. It’s also very female-centred, with almost all the significant roles going to women, and the individual performances are decent or better. But the lack of a compelling narrative sinks this ship, with it left feeling like a series of largely unconnected strands. Perhaps if we’d been brought along on Jessie’s journey, and saw how she became a vigilante, it might have been different? As is, there’s not even much resolution, and we are simply 95 minutes later in the day.

Dir: Karl Jenner, Lyndsay Sarah
Star: Janet Shay, Hayley Flowers, Mikaela, Franco, Kirsty McKenzie

Operation Kick-ass

★★★½
“Just don’t ask what’s going on.”

This ended up turning into an Internet investigation. The title above is the one by which it appeared on Tubi. But it’s clearly pasted onto the opening credits, and I ended up having to go through the IMDb credits for the one identifiable actress to find it there – where it appears under another title, with some promo materials giving it a third name. The end credits are entirely in Chinese, and provide absolutely no information as to who is playing who. So that also had to be pieced together. But least helpful of all, were subtitles that may be generated by a drunk AI, operated by a seven-year-old

Seriously, I’ve only the vaguest idea of what’s going on. Do not take what follows as more than my best guess, and it may be wrong in any number of ways. It seems to be a battle between two groups: the good guys (and gals) of GWS, under Uncle Liao (Zhang), versus the bad guys (and gal) of Alpha, run by cartoon villain Davis, who frequently sounds like he is being dubbed by Borat. Are these two factions industrial organizations? Agencies of rival governments? Criminal gangs? No idea. They’re clearly both very well-funded, and are fighting over a computer program called “Blue Sword and Shield”, which can be used to blackmail the rich and powerful. Key to this is a programmer (Wei), whose loyalties are… flexible.

But it becomes personal for GWS’s top agent, Chen You (Li), after Alpha kill her friend and colleague, Merrill Lynch. Yes, that’s what those subtitles assure me is a character’s name. Maybe this was a not-so subtle form of product placement. More likely, it’s just another example of how this is a grab-bag of elements taken from elsewhere. Most obviously, in its basic structure of “three women with an older, male boss” is Charlie’s Angels, though this is considerably less fluffy. Put it this way: Uncle Liao will have some recruiting to do by the time the movie is over. But there is clear influence from old-school Hong Kong girls-with-guns movies as well, such as Naked Weapon, and also the John Wick franchise. 

At less than seventy minutes, it doesn’t have time to hang around, and the action is pretty decent as well. Although sometimes it is a little over-edited and CGI’d, it’s always stylishly shot and imaginative. The highlight is probably the knife fight between Chen and Davis’s lieutenant (Zina Blahusova), with the two women going at each other hard: by this point it’s very personal for Chen. I would like see more of both actresses. It’s just a shame the presentation, in both sub and dubbing, is so slipshod. Had it not been, this could well have been looking at a seal of approval. While I get these films are not intended for a Western audience, with a little more care, they could be; the quality elsewhere is there.

Dir: Liu Bayin
Star: Mengmeng Li, Shuangli Zhang, Wei Chen, Zhang Dong
a.k.a. Action team overlord flower or Secret Agent Dangerous Flowers.

Avenging Angels: Vengeance Trail, by A. W. Hart

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

Published in 2019, this is the opening volume of Wolfpack Publishing’s Avenging Angels series. My wife Barb and I had previously read the seventh and second installments out of order (long story!); and having really liked those, we recently decided to commit to reading the series. This one takes us to the very beginning of the titular “avenging angels'” adventures.

The Bass twins, George Washington (nicknamed “Reno”) and Sara, were 16 in the fall of 1865, just after the Civil War, when they returned home from school and found their western Kansas homestead burned and their parents and three older siblings dead or dying, murdered by a band of vengeful renegade ex-Confederates. (Their sister had also been gang raped.) Before he died, their father charged them to avenge that slaughter. This book is the story of that quest and its outcome (hence the title). “A. W. Hart” is a house pen name; all of the books of the series have different actual authors. Here, the writer was Peter Brandvold, who grew up as a Western fan in the 60s and 70s and went on to write over 100 Western novels, under his own name or his “Frank Leslie” pen name. (Neither Barb nor I had any prior experience with his work.)

There are a couple of significant continuity issues between this volume and the later ones, though these aren’t Brandvold’s fault. Starting in the second book, our hero’s and heroine’s promise to their father is said to have explicitly included a charge to continue to hunt down and rid the earth of other evil-doers, even after justice was served on the original villains. That’s not at all clear and explicit here. At the end of this book, their resolution to make their quest a continuing one is said to be their own decision, a response to an emotional need of their own. And in the seventh book (and possibly others earlier), the late John Bass is described as having been a Lutheran pastor. In this book, while he’s said to have been a God-fearing person who raised his kids to be familiar with the Bible, there’s no hint that he was a clergyman of any kind. IMO, on both points, the portrayal here is more plausible and realistic.

However, there are definite flaws in Brandvold’s craftsmanship here, starting with chronology. John Bass served in the Mexican War, after which he married and settled in Kansas. The Bass family graveyard on the homestead is said to hold the remains of an infant sibling who died over 20 years before 1865 –in other words, before 1845, and the Bass twins would have been born ca. 1849. But the Mexican War was fought from 1846-1848. There isn’t time between Feb. 1848 and the end of 1849 to fit in John Bass’ post-war activity, subsequent courtship and marriage, the couple’s move to Kansas, and four pregnancies prior to Reno and Sara. (And Kansas was not even opened for settlement until 1854.) If his general knowledge of U.S. history didn’t furnish red flags here, very basic research would have precluded these kinds of mistakes.

Editing and proofreading here is poor. Brandvold loses the thread of which character is speaking in one key conversation; he can’t make up his mind whether two or three antagonists are positioned in one spot during a gun fight, and near the end, a character’s last name unaccountably changes from Hill to Stock in the space of two pages. The third-person narrative is consistently from Reno’s viewpoint, but in the earlier chapters it incorporates gunslinger’s slang (thankfully abandoned later) that a peaceful teenage farm boy would be unlikely to be acquainted with. Near the end, conduct by two of the villains is inconsistent with their group’s overall plan. There are other logistical and editorial quibbles that could be made as well.

Both Sara and another important female character, Isabelle Mando, act out of character, or unrealistically for the situation, in one place (though not in the same place). Sara’s character, in particular, comes across as less winsome here than it does in the two later books we read. Of the two twins, she’s always been the more enduringly angry and vindictive over her family’s tragedy, the more aloof and self-contained, and the more ruthless and readily inured to violence. Here, though, she has a readiness to execute even disabled and helpless adversaries that alarms Reno, and at the same time a willingness to ignore a rape attempt on someone else as none of her business. (Thankfully for the victim, Reno didn’t share that indifference.) At one point, Reno was feeling a genuine concern for the state of Sara’s soul, and a resolution to try to influence her for the better. But later, he’s surprised and puzzled when Sara expresses a concern about her own spiritual state; and that theme is never developed any further, just forgotten and left hanging. Brandvold is undeniably a prolific writer; but he comes across to me as a careless and hasty one who sacrifices quality to quantity.

While the main characters here are Christians, and there’s a definite theme of good vs. evil, with the idea that God sides with the former and against the latter, none of the series writers are necessarily Christians themselves as far as I know. Bible verses serve as epigraph and postscript, and are quoted at times in the text; but there’s no real presentation of the gospel of grace and mercy, and not much wrestling with the Christian ethics of lethal force in a fallen world. Despite the teen protagonists, this is not really YA fiction either; it’s a very violent book, with a high body count. (It is, however, free of sexual content, beyond some references to scantily-clad chorus girls in a frontier music hall, and has very little bad language.) There’s a chaste romance which some readers will see as marred by an insta-love factor; but in the cultural context, I wasn’t bothered by the latter, and for me it’s a plus that it’s inter-racial. (Positive portrayal of half-Lakota characters and a black character do Brandvold credit.)

While I didn’t rate this book as highly as the two later ones, Barb and I still plan to continue with the series. It won’t disappoint genre fans who like a heavy dose of gun-fighting action.

Author: A. W. Hart.
Publisher: Wolfpack Publishing; available through Amazon, both for Kindle and as a print book.
A version of this review previously appeared on Goodreads.

Baby Assassins

★★★½
“We kill people so we don’t have to get these annoying jobs.”

I’ve read complaints that the trailer mis-sells this, over-hyping the action components. Fortunately, I went in largely blind, so had no such preconceptions. I can see how it could be fair comment: while bookended by solid action, the middle is much more an oddball Japanese comedy. [If you’d told me this was directed by Sion Sono, I’d believe you] I still found it largely engaging, while occasionally hilarious and – sometimes simultaneously – utterly baffling. It’s about two teenage assassins, Chisato (Takaishi) and Mahiro (Izawa), who have been told by their handler they need to start fending for themselves. That means moving into an apartment, and finding work which doesn’t involve killing people.

As the line of dialogue above suggests, these are tasks for which both young women are singularly unsuited. Mahiro, in particular, is a self-confessed sociopath, who can barely keep up a normal conversation for five minutes, without wanting to shoot somebody. And it’s an urge that usually wins. We see this at the beginning, when a convenience store interview turns violent, and she has to fight her way out, past the manager and his (surprisingly loyal) employees. In the end, Chisato helps her get a job at the maid cafe where she works. I’d heard of those, but… yeah. Not sure if the depiction here is exaggerated for comedic purposes: it’s startlingly bizarre. Things ultimately go awry there when a Yakuza boss visits, and does not follow establishment etiquette, shall we say.

I was reminded of Violet and Daisy, in that this is as much about the relationship between the two young hired killers, as their actual killing. However, here the duo’s background is entirely opaque. How did they become hitwomen? Who is hiring them? Where are their parents? These are all questions that the film is utterly disinterested in answering. To be honest, the concept is a little shaky. Surely murder pays well enough that a part-time job in a 7-11 is not necessary? However, if you can roll with it, there’s a lot of amusement in getting a glimpse of what assassins do when not assassining, especially if you’ve ever lived in a similar arrangement. 

Izawa, a stuntwoman who doubled for Rina Sawayama in John Wick 4, handles most of the action. In addition to the early convenience store brawl, there’s also a final fight against the much larger Mimoto. It works, because Mahiro makes no attempt to out-power her opponent or go toe-to-toe with him, instead opting to use her advantages in speed and agility to gain an edge. I would like to have seen more of this, and some of the humour here is perhaps trying too hard to be “quirky”, complete with air quotes. But these are a pair of characters with which it’s fun to spend time, and certainly provides more amusement than I needed. I’ll be checking out the sequel, Baby Assassins 2 Babies, in short order. 

Dir: Yugo Sakamoto
Star: Akari Takaishi, Saori Izawa, Masanori Mimoto, Mone Akitani