Category: Review

Lady Death: The Movie

  By

★★
“Death warmed up.”

My first viewing of this was on a day off from work, when I was down with some sinusy thing, and dosed up on DayQuil. So I chalked my losing interest and drifting off to the meds, and once I felt better, decided this deserved the chance of a re-view. However, the result was still the same: even as a bright-eyed and bushy-tailed viewer, I found attention lapsing. For this animated version of a mature comic, might as well be a He-Man and the Masters of the Universe episode. Which is a shame. I wanted to like it, since the creator of Lady Death, Brian Pulido, is something of a local comics legend here in my adopted home state of Arizona. This should have been better.

In 15th-century Sweden, Hope (Auten) is the daughter of Matthias (Kleinhenz), a mercenary who is actually an incarnation of Satan. When this is exposed, the innocent Hope is burned at the stake by religious zealots: there, she makes a literal deal with the devil, and agrees to re-join her father in Hell, where he has also taken her fiance, medical student Niccolo. However, once she is in the underworld, she rebels against his authority. With the aid of Satan’s former swordsmith, Cremator (Mungle), she obtains ‘Darkness’, a weapon Cremator had forged after slaying Asmodeus. Hope – or Lady Death, as she is now known – begins to amass an army and plot her demonic father’s overthrow.

All of which sounds considerably more interesting than the execution here, which is blandly uninteresting in just about every level, beginning with its depiction of hell. Even by the standards of 2004, this is low-quality animation. One of the strengths of the medium is it’s limited only by imagination: you don’t need to worry about the costs of building sets or whatever, it’s just what you draw. Yet there’s no indication here of any thought having gone into the setting. Hell is, apparently, a poorly-lit and generic cave system, populated by entities that look like Jabba the Hutt or Tim Curry in Legend. Much the same vanilla complaint can be leveled at voice-acting that’s desperately in need of more energy, save perhaps McAvin as Lucifer’s “jester,” Pagan.

But it’s perhaps the script which is the weakest element here – and considering the screenplay was written by Pulido, that’s especially disappointing. I’m only somewhat familiar with the comics, yet they seem to have a rich and fully-developed mythology. Could have fooled me based on this, where the Devil is basically an idiot, who has to make every mistake in the Evil Overlord handbook, to allow his adversary to triumph. Though this version of Lady Death appears considerably more heroic than in the source material, the question of why a “good girl” would want to reign over hell is never addressed. All that’s left is in an impressive bit of central character design, because there’s no doubt she is a striking creation. She’s someone who deserves a significantly better fate than this entirely forgettable prod with a blunt stick.

Dir: Andy Orjuela
Star (voice): Christine Auten, Mike Kleinhenz, Andy McAvin, Rob Mungle

Amazon Hot Box

  By

★★
“Neither Amazonian nor Hot.”

Is it possible for a homage to be too accurate? This could be the problem here. It’s clear that Bickert has a deep affection for the “women in prison” genre – yet, again, possibly too much so. For this is less a parody or a pastiche than a loving re-creation, and doesn’t understand that a lot of these movies… well, to be honest, they suck. Badly acted, poorly plotted, thinly-disguised excuses for porn. And that’s the good ones. If you’re going to make a homage to them, you can’t do so with the knowing winks to the camera that we get here. Because the best examples – from Ilsa, She-Wolf of the SS through to the glorious Reform School Girls – played it entirely straight. You may not take them seriously: but, make no mistake, they took themselves very seriously indeed, or at least gave that impression, and played it totally straight-faced. Here, it’s more like watching WiP cosplay.

Penny (Carlisle) is arrested while on an ecological mission in the fictional “South American” country of Rattica [quotes used, since the state of Georgia is a thoroughly unconvincing stand-in for anywhere Latin] and dispatched to the prison run by evil warden Inga Von Krupp (Church, sporting an accent considerably more Russian than German, though I suspect #ThatsTheJoke). There’s the the similarly evil inmate Val (Risk), and somehow, Rattica’s newly-instituted President, Jett Bryant (Bryant), is also involved. As is Agent Six (Jordan Phipps), a secret agent sent into Rattica to… Well, I’m not quite sure what her purpose is, because it’s one of the film’s numerous, largely uninteresting threads, which Bickert fails to weave into an interesting cinematic carpet.

Part of the problem is, the film needs to figure out where it wants to focus. Initially, it seems to be on Penny, but it seems to get bored quickly of her – I can’t blame it, to be honest, she’s blandly uninteresting – and drift onto Inga and her mad scientist collaborator for a bit. Then we get zombies thrown in, because…? Inga does at least have a midget sidekick, but like most of the cast, Church desperately needs to up her energy and intensity. All the bits lifted from elsewhere, e.g. the inmate standing on an ice-block in the middle of the dinner table, can’t conceal that this is largely bereft of its own ideas, and the execution is generally too limp to succeed. Even the gratuitous female nudity is severely limited. So what’s the point?

Oh, I know what they were trying to do. I’ve seen more than my fair share of these movies, to the point it’s a running joke in our household. So it isn’t a question of not getting it. I get it. I just don’t get it, in the sense of not seeing what the aim is here. For this plays like a third-generation, washed-out VHS copy of the movies it’s emulating. Why bother with this rather lame, tame wannabe, instead of the real thing?

Dir: James Bickert
Star: Kelsey Carlisle, Ellie Church, Tristan Risk, Jett Bryant

Lachmi Bai, Rani of Jhansi: The Jeanne D’Arc of India by Michael White

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

“Fear not,” she retorted with animation, “that I will suffer the indignity of capture at their hands. My dead body they may find, but the spirit of the Rani of Jhansi will have carried more than one of them to an accounting before the great tribunal of justice.”

“With the exception of a white turban, she was attired in a blood-red uniform from head to foot.”

I’m surprised how sympathetic a portrayal this novel has of Queen Lachmi Bai (as it’s spelled here), considering when it was published. For this came out in 1901, a point at which India was still firmly under British rule – heck, Queen Victoria was on the throne as the year began. Yet Lachmi Bai is very much the heroine, portrayed respectfully, to an almost idealized degree. For instance, it begins with the rebel massacre of British troops and their families at Jhansi. Yet this is depicted as being in explicit defiance of her command to secure them as prisoners.

It’s a mix of historical fact and pure speculation, the latter being particularly evident in a fairly platonic love triangle between the Queen, and two of her (entirely fictitious, I suspect) lieutenants, the Hindu Prasad Singh and the Muslim Ahmad Khan. The latter is the villain of the piece. His blood-lust is responsible for the massacre, and he is depicted in phrases such as “the expression of his mouth and chin denoted cruelty and treachery—the latter, perhaps, an accomplishment rather than a failing to the Oriental mind.” [While there is an argument to be made here for Islamophobia in his depiction, given the highly positive way Lachmi Bai and Prasad are portrayed, accusations of general “racism” seem lazy]

However, even he spends much of the middle portion working faithfully in support of the queen’s mission to free her country from the British. Speaking of whom, there is one scene early in the book told from the point of view of the Empire. But thereafter, they are largely referred to as “the Foreigners,” again demonstrating the Indo-centric viewpoint of the novel. While they ultimately prevail, this is not reported with any sense of triumph. Indeed, White is remarkably prophetic, Lachmi Bai saying, almost with her final breath: “Not forever shall their horsemen ride triumphantly through the land. A day will come when their law shall be no longer obeyed, and our temples and palaces rise anew from their ruins.” 46 years later, India did indeed become an independent country.

“But even if defeat is again the will of God, if die we must; is it not better to perish as warriors should, in a feat of arms upon which the eyes of our enemies will gaze with marvel, than as wild beasts hunted through the jungle?”

“Her horse leaped forward, straight for Sindhia’s guns.”

The story told here bypasses her entire life and marriage, joining proceedings after she has already become a widow. In the early stages, Lachmi Bai also takes a back seat, with the storyline revolving around Ahmad and Prasad’s rivalry. The former manipulates the latter into believing the Queen is having an affair with young officer Dost Ali, and also the Queen into believing Prasad is plotting against her. This leads to his exile for the middle of the book, until returning after the fall of Jhansi, as the Queen is making her escape from the city. Though I must say, Ahmad’s eventual fate is rather underwhelming, in a “Cersei Lannister” kind of way. Without getting too spoilery, hopes he would meet the point of Lachmi Bai’s sword proved unfulfilled.

The latter half focuses more on the Queen, as fate deals her cards both good and bad. It’s made clear the military reverses suffered are not her fault, or in any way reflect her bravery. Her commanders are to blame, along with a tendency for her forces to break under pressure. Yet, as the quote above says, she would rather have a glorious death than a subservient life. The comparisons to Jeanne D’Arc are understandable, and made explicit: “A second Jeanne D’Arc, as valiant in battle, more subtle in council than the Maid of Orleans, moved by the same passionate love for her country, had cast in their teeth a wager of defiance, to stand until either they were driven from her state, or she had perished.”

Of course, we know how the story ends, and White gives Lachmi Bai the heroic send-off she deserves: “She drew the folds of a shawl over her face to hide her death agony, and again lay down. The blackness of night grew deeper, the silence more intense. Presently, strange, warrior forms seemed to appear from the unknown and filled the Rani’s tent. One supremely beautiful figure, in dazzling raiment, came forth to enfold the dying woman in her arms.” It’s surprisingly touching, and a decent end to a story which has survived the passage of almost 120 years better than I expected

Author: Michael White
Publisher: J. F. Taylor & Company, available as an e-book for free from Project Gutenberg.

Manikarnika: The Queen of Jhansi

  By

★★★½
“Show me the Mani”

The movie opens with a particularly elaborate disclaimer, admitting that “certain cinematic liberties have been sought,” and that “this film does not claim historical authenticity.” Probably wise: Indians take their national heroes very seriously; just last year, another historical epic, Padmaavat, sparked months of protests, up to and including buses being set on fire. This seems to have largely (but not entirely) escaped such a fate, and likely deservedly. It certainly does little to disrespect the woman, the myth or the legend of Manikarnik, the woman who would become Queen Lakshmibai, and lead a revolt against the British who occupied India in the mid-19th century.

It definitely does adjust things – most notably skipping over the whole “child marriage” thing, which was a key element of Jhansi Ki Rani and The Tiger and the Flame. In this case, Manikarnika (Ranaut) is already fully-grown when she catches the eye of the king of Jhansi, eventually becoming his queen. Thereafter, it goes through her becoming a widow, eviction by the British, rebellion and eventual death in battle, albeit with only a moderate degree of historical accuracy. For, undeniably, there are a fair number of those “certain cinematic liberties,” especially in terms of events being staged and timed for dramatic impact. I’m willing to cut them some slack, since a lot of the results are highly effective.

Curiously, there’s a lot of style adopted from Wonder Woman here, in particular the use of super slow-mo during the action scenes. But it also carries a significant amount of heart: perhaps due to the lead actress also being the co-director? Ranaut knocks it out of the park in some scenes, such as when she’s facing off against villainous British officer Captain Gordon (Edward Sonnenblick, who played a similar role in Jhansi Ki Rani). There are a lot of lines which could come over as cheesy, such as, “This throne doesn’t make me a Queen. It’s the love and faith of Jhansi’s people which does.” But the lead actress delivers them with such conviction, even this Brit was left wanting to stand up and cheer, as a subsequent forced departure from her palace turns into a torch-lit procession of support.

After her bad-ass credentials are established with her shooting a tiger, the first half doesn’t have much action to its name, though is never dull. And this is more than made up for by a rousing second-half filled with impressive battles, though the overall impact is severely hurt by some really poor CGI, such as cannons which fire with zero recoil, and breezes which affect only our heroine, not the grass in which she is supposedly standing. The lack of supporting characters is notable: her husband Gangadhar (Sengupta) was most notable to our eyes, for the Indo-mullet hairstyle he wore. On the British side, Gordon is replaced half-way through by Sir Hugh Rose, to no particular purpose.

However, this is probably the most beautiful film I’ve seen this year; it looks like a Ridley Scott film, and there’s little higher praise than that in my mind. Between that and Ranaut’s intense performance, there’s enough reason to see this, and overcome any problems.

Dir: Kangana Ranaut and Radha Krishna Jagarlamudi
Star: Kangana Ranaut, Atul Kulkarni, Jisshu Sengupta, Vaibhav Tatwawaadi

Jhansi Ki Rani

  By

★★★½
“I can only apologize.”

Not for the show, I should stress. But as a Brit… Wow, were were really such utter bastards to the Indians when the country was a colony? I was under the impression it was all tea and cricket. But the British, as depicted here, appear largely to be working entirely for the East Indian company, treating the local population with, at best, disdain, and often brutality. All the while, seeking to manipulate local politics (with, it must be said, the help of some Indians) to their own advantage. After 70 episodes of this, such is the guilt, I can barely enjoy my chicken tikka masala without giving it reparations.

I say 70 episodes, but the entire series is considerably longer. Wikipedia lists it as 408, but those are apparently 25-minute shows. Netflix seems to have doubled it up (bringing its length into line with the more traditional Hispanic telenovelas which I’ve previously reviewed). Yet even allowing for that, to this point they only seem to have about 30% of the show. They also shortened the title from its full name, Ek Veer Stree Ki Kahaani… Jhansi Ki Rani, which translates as Story of a Brave Woman… The Queen of Jhansi.

Simply based on the level of intrigue here, this feels like an Indian version of Game of Thrones. Albeit without the incest. Or the dragons. Or the budget. And is based on a real character, Lakshmibai. But it’s quite easy also to draw a line between Arya Stark and the teenage heroine here, Manikarnika (Gupta) a.k.a. Manu, neither caring one bit for ‘traditional’ behaviour. Manu, in particular, objects to the occupying British forces and their disrespectful treatment of the native population. So she crafts a secret identity, Kranti Guru, and uses this to fight back against the Brits, even (gasp!) desecrating the Union Jack. She’s helped by her mentor, Tatya Tope, who occasionally dons the mask as well, when necessary.

However, a literally stellar horoscope leads to Manu being betrothed to the Maharaja of Jhansi, Gangadhar Rao (Dharmadhikari). And this is my biggest issue. Cultural differences be damned, there is no way in which a prepubescent girl marrying a middle-aged man can seem appropriate, or other than incredibly creepy. Manu gets her first period in one of the final episodes, and the reaction of everyone can be summarised as, “Good, now you can give the king a heir.” [The reality was slightly less creepy: Lakshmibai did, indeed, marry the king at age 13. However, they didn’t have a son until she was in her twenties]

The British – already unhappy with Manu’s rebellious outbursts – are far from happy at the prospect of her marrying Gangadhar and continuing the line. Even before she arrives at the palace, there are backroom conspiracies involving some of his relatives (not least his own mother), who ally themselves with the colonialists for their mutual benefit. These schemes go up to and include multiple assassination plots against the king, and indeed, his bride-to-be. Time for Kranti Guru to come out again, particularly to face off against gold-toothed British psychopath Marshall (Verma). His relentless pursuit, without regard for who gets hurt, earns him Manu’s undying enmity. [Weirdly, he’s played by an Indian actor in “white face”, as are some – but not all – of the other English officers, some of whom are dubbed.]

To be honest, Manu’s action scenes are a bit crap, mostly consisting of her waving a sword around in severely choreographed battles. She’d last about two minutes against other teenage warrioresses, like Hanna or Hit-Girl. Still, she has a certain charm, not least for her razor-sharp intellect, which lets her argue with – and usually kick the mental ass of – religious scholars, politicians and the king. She also has an unshakeable faith that everyone is redeemable, and more than once, turns enemies into loyal allies. Most notable is dacoit (bandit) Samar Singh, initially hired to murder Manu. When the tables are turned, and she forgives him, he abandons his life of crime. That’s the level of devotion she inspires.

Run away, foreigner, run away!
This brave Manu riding the horse is Lakshmi Bai
Fire will rain on you, now you are doomed. 
Look at the colourful India, India will defeat you. 
She has come to claim your head, the Queen of Jhansi has come. 
Run away foreigner, the Queen of Jhansi has come!

Despite its origins, there are no song-and-dance numbers, though the music still plays a significant, if repetitive part. The song quoted above shows up in every other episode, and the re-use of certain cues could be turned into a drinking game, e.g. take a shot every time that “sad trombone”-like arpeggio sting is heard. However, the most defining style element is the reaction shot. It seems nothing dramatic can happen without everyone present in the scene subsequently being ready for their close-up – sometimes multiple times. And considering how often such moments happen in the king’s court… it takes a while. This does lighten the intellectual burden required to keep up. Chris was usually present for only about one-third of the screen time each day, yet she was able to hang in there, with only minor explanations from me.

For the great majority of the time, it’s light stuff, with Manu escaping every pitfall her enemies set for her. Then, the hammer drops: to extend the GoT comparison, it’s the Rani equivalent of the Red Wedding. Fewer bodies, to be sure – just one – yet the resulting emotional wallop was still brutal, sending me through multiple stages of grief during the subsequent fall-out. “No… Surely they haven’t… It’s got to be a dream sequence.” All told, it was easily the most impactful death in any of the telenovelas I’ve watched, regardless of their origin, and the repercussions ran on for multiple episodes. As do the reaction shots. So. Many. Reaction. Shots.

I wonder if the 70-episode cutoff point was chosen by Netflix, being the point at which Manu “grows up”. It appears she is played by an older actress (right) in the latter stages of the series. As it stands, however, it’s an interesting approach to have a series apparently aimed at adults, with a 14-year-old character as the lead. While I can’t say it was wholly successful, it proved a remarkably easy watch, and I was genuinely sorry when I ran out of episodes.

Creative Director: Sujata Rao
Star: Ulka Gupta, Sameer Dharmadhikari, Vikas Verma, Ashnoor Kaur

The Tiger and the Flame

  By

★★½
“The kitten and the candle”

This is the edited and English-dubbed version of the first Indian film released, to have been shot in Technicolor. While becoming a rare example of an Indian movie given a Western release, it was severely cut down, going from its original running time of 148 minutes to a mere 96. Much of this was accomplished by trimming the musical numbers, with all that’s left being the titular ballet, put on by the King of Jhansi (Mubarak) – a bit of an odd scene to leave in. Most of the rest is a reasonably accurate biopic of his wife, Queen Lakshmibai, covering her marriage at a very early age to the King, subsequent widowing, and eventually becoming the local leader at the head of the rebellion against the British in the late eighteen fifties.

One particularly interesting aspect is the way Modi (who produced the film, as well as directing and starring in it) brought on board a significant amount of Hollywood talent to work on the project. These were led by cinematographer Ernest Haller, who won an Oscar for his work on Gone With The Wind. Certainly, in this Westernized version, it plays like a thoroughly solid Hollywood biopic, even if rather more authentic in its ethnic casting. Well, at least in one direction; the British roles are also played by Indians. I’m a bit surprised it was a commercial failure in its home territory, especially considering it was released only 5½ years after the country gained its real independence from Britain. You’d think that would have made its topic resonate well with a local audience.

However, with the obvious caveat that I’m going off the abbreviated, dubbed version, I can perhaps see why. It’s an impressive spectacle – with a couple of battle sequences which are particularly impressive. However, it comes over as the fifties equivalent of disaster porn, being empty visuals without any real emotional content. And, say what you like about Bollywood movies, it’s the emotional content which typically powers them. Local viewers were also apparently unimpressed by the lead actress – not coincidentally, the director’s wife – being in her mid-thirties and thus too old to play the heroine.

Personally, I didn’t feel that was too much of a problem. However, I didn’t get any sense of the characters involved. Lakshmibai is very much a figurehead, rather than an active participant, whose activity is largely limited to giving mildly stirring speeches to her soldiers. Admittedly, we have to bear in mind both the era and the source. But if you consider that Anne of the Indies pre-dated this by two years, it’s clear the era was not an absolute impediment. That does a much better job of mixing history and sword-play, while still giving you reason to care about the people wielding the weapons. This is closer to a pretty costume drama than a heroic tale of rebellion, and offers little insight into how Lakshmibai was able to lead an army.

Dir: Sohrab Modi
Star: Mehtab, Mubarak, Sohrab Modi, Sapru
a.k.a. Jhansi Ki Rani

Miraculous Flower

  By

★★★
“Flower power”

Another solid Pearl Chang movie – despite being mis-labelled as Wolf Devil Woman 3, it is in now way related to that super weird entry. This is closer to The Invincible Swordswoman, though is not without its strange aspects. Pearl plays May, who gets an annoyingly cryptic mission from her dying mother – I mean, if I was about to shuffle off, my last words would be considerably less vague than, and I quote, “I’ve put a very important thing in a box… You will find out about a great, great secret. From that, you will see the task that you have to perform.” She then drags said sick parent round the countryside for a bit, not even noticing for a while that she’s now pulling a corpse [like I said: not without its strange aspects].

She befriends a roaming scholar (Tsung), who has a secret identity as a vigilante, and after helping fend off a home invasion, is adopted by his family. The whole “mission given by her dying mother” thing appears largely forgotten by May at this point. Eventually – and it could be weeks, months or years, since time-frames are not this movie’s strong suit – she remembers about it, and heads out on the road again. Suddenly stricken with guilt, she’s about to fling herself into a gorge when she’s stopped by the Happy Fairy (Gua), so named because her grin achieves Joker-like levels of permanence.

She increases May’s stock of skills, adding to those picked up from the vigilante scholar, though her training methods involve literally spit-roasting May, as well as turning her into a living snow-woman [again: strange aspects]. It all makes sense after the Fairy tells her a story about a bloody massacre from which there was only one survivor. May inexplicably fails to grasp the deeply-personal connection this anecdote has, well after the audience has figured it out. But this sets in motion the final act, where she turns into the Miraculous Flower – yeah, I was wondering when that was going to become relevant, too. She sets about obtaining her revenge, leaving a white blossom on the scene as her calling-card. Though it’s not as straightforward as that (let’s face facts: it never is), with the secateurs of May’s justice ending up cutting perilously close to her life before becoming the vengeful flora.

Not much is known about the director of this, but he seems to have had a serious thing for heights. The movie certainly makes the most out of Taiwan’s mountainous scenery: as well as the gorge mentioned above, we get battles on the sides of mountains and a particularly memorable one on a waterfall. The story isn’t more than a series of cliches, and definitely tries to stuff too much into its 86 minutes, while the lifting of the theme from The Twilight Zone is particularly blatant. Yet, I’d rather have a movie with too much imagination, rather than not enough: and you’d certainly be hard pushed to claim this fell into the latter category. I was more than adequately entertained.

Dir: Fong Ho
Star: Pearl Ling Chang, Tsung Hua, Gua Ah Leh, Wang Hsieh
a.k.a. Phoenix the Ninja

Curvature

  By

★★★
“Time out for fun.”

Helen (Fonseca) is struggling to come to terms with the sudden, unexpected death of her scientist husband, who was engaged on a top-secret project with his partner, Tomas (Morshower). Then things get truly weird: she experiences the mother of all blackouts, missing an entire week, and shortly afterward, Helen receives a phone-call warning her to get out of her house… from herself. It turns out, husband and Tomas had come up with a limited form of time-travel. As a result of this and subsequent events, there are now two Helens running around this point in. And future Helen appears to be considerably more militant. She leaves present Helen a sniper rifle as a gift, as well as stocking up on things like pressure cookers – and you can safely assume she’s not preparing a nourishing casserole. Present Helen decides future Helen needs to be stopped. But the more she uncovers, not least about the circumstances of her husband’s demise, the more she understands why future Helen is intent on carrying out her take on Project Mayhem.

I love me a good time-travel movie, and this is just that – a good time-travel movie, rather than a great one, like Retroactive or Run Lola Run. It manages to keep its two heroines in the air, revealing information at a decent rate, and also to balance brain and brawn. To the latter end, the heroine has to solve puzzles left behind by her other self to clue her in – without doing so to Tomas or the others seeking to shut the Helens down. On her side is work colleague Alex (Avery), though to be honest, he seems there mostly as a proxy for the audience, so Helen can explain stuff to him. Against her is Kravitz (Lanipekun), a crypto-federal agent – for it seems the defense industry has its own plans for the technology in question. That said, if it were really all that important, you’d think more than one guy might be sent in pursuit. Whatevs….

A bonus point is awarded for gratuitously casting Linda Hamilton in a small role as Helen’s former mentor. For, of course, Hamilton was part of the original “Going to the past to save the future” franchise: Terminator. Here, she doesn’t get to do much; it’s still a nice nod to one of the film’s influences. However, it feels as if the film couldn’t quite work out how it wanted to use time-travel. There’s a nice get-out which explains why future Helen didn’t come back and prevent her husband’s death. But beyond that, it’s more mildly engaging than deeply engrossing, as one Helen gradually closes in on the other Helen, and Kravitz closes in on them both. To be honest, I’d rather have focused on future Helen, since she seems the one actively involved in changing the world, rather than reacting to it, as present Helen does. Though scripting that version might have caused too many headaches – both for the writer and the viewer.

Dir: Diego Hallivis
Star: Lyndsy Fonseca, Zach Avery, Glenn Morshower, Alex Lanipekun

The Rizen

  By

★★½
“Tunnel of love-craft.”

This is about the third Lovecraftian film I’ve seen with a heroine in the past year or so, after Black Site and The Creature Below. While I’m not sure it’s still quite a trend, it’s notable, considering I’ve only seen three Lovecraftian films over that time. It certainly stands in sharp contrast to the original author, for whom women were very rarely the protagonists. However, this equally provides clear evidence that this isn’t enough, on its own, as a guarantee of quality.

It’s 1955, and Frances (Swift) regains consciousness to find herself being dragged through an underground tunnel by a half-human monster. She bashes its head in with a convenient rock, and starts trying to figure out what’s going on, since her memory is all but gone. She encounters a scientist (Tajah) and then a handcuffed soldier (Knowles) – neither of whom can remember much either – and more of the monstrous humanoids. As the trio make their way through the complex, fragments of flashbacks reveal this was a NATO project, using captured Nazi occult research with the aim of getting a Cold War edge. However, this has backfired, and control over things has been lost. With emphasis heavily on the “things”…

It’s one of the most blatant and annoying cases of amnesia as a plot device I’ve seen of late, with characters conveniently remembering things at the precise moments needed by the story-line. However, even to get to that point, you have to endure painfully repetitive meandering through dark corridors for what seems like forever. It feels like a bad RPG, in which the heroine picks up largely useless sidekicks to follow her around, in the expectation that they might eventually serve some purpose. Indeed, the whole thing resembles an unofficial adaptation of Resident Evil, made by people too concerned about loyalty to the game, rather than an entertaining movie.

To that Jovovich-shaped end, Swift is one of the film’s better elements – a stuntwoman, with a good physical presence which is (to some extent, deliberately) far better than those of her male co-stars. However, only to some extent: it doesn’t excuse the painful nature of Tajah’s performance, for example. This stands in awkward contrast to the “name” British actors whom we see in the flashbacks, including Bruce Payne, Ade Edmondson and Sally Phillips. Clearly the budget could only stretch to bringing them in for cameos, though it just emphasizes the gap in ability. The main problem, though, is a structure where the viewer spends the first hour with no clue what’s going on – and with little reason to care, either. There’s only so much slinking around dark corridors I can take. This movie delivers all of that quota, plus an extra 30 minutes for good measure.

It’s a shame, since if they’d started with the explanation, we could perhaps then have gone along with the characters on the journey. As is, we alternate for most of the running time between bored and confused. When everything eventually makes sense, it was good enough to leave me somewhat intrigued, on reading there is a sequel in production. Pity that intrigue comes an hour too late.

Dir: Matt Mitchell
Star:Laura Swift, Christopher Tajah, Patrick Knowles, Bruce Payne

Blades of Magic by Terah Edun

  By

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

Seventeen-year-old Sarah Fairchild and her family have become persona non grata after her father’s execution by the Algardis Empire. He was a renowned fighter and commander, so his alleged desertion makes no sense to Sarah. Regardless, his wife and daughter are now pariahs to the local community. Even with Sarah’s unparalleled fighting skills, both natural and magical, her employment opportunities are limited, to say the least.

Which is how she ends up acting as the guard at a warehouse full of shady artifacts, owned by the even shadier Cormar. There, she meets the scholarly Ezekiel Crane, who helps Sarah as she begins to search for the truth about her father’s fate – facts which someone is keen to cover-up, at savage cost to our heroine. Finding out what happened requires her to join the Mercenaries’ Guild, and head with them into the teeth of a ferocious battle being waged by Algardis against a rebel group, led by eight high-powered mages.

I suspect the problems here are mostly related to reading this as a one-off. For example, the entire first half of the book, with Sarah working for Cormar, serves absolutely no purpose except to introduce her to Ezekiel. Now, I’m thinking it’s quite likely there is a payoff further into the series, with the artifacts he collects eventually proving to be useful in the battle against the mages. But for the purpose of this book, it’s a complete dead-end. If a story is going to be crippled in this way by dividing it into four parts, maybe it shouldn’t be divided into four parts? It certainly does nothing to encourage me to pick up the three subsequent volumes.

When Sarah enlists, in order to find the man she believes holds the key to her father’s death, it does improve. There’s a nice dynamic at play between her abilities, which are almost at the superhero level, and her need to remain below the radar. I was impressed by the final battle, though it’s less a battle, than a rout, with the enemy wizards using the magical equivalent of drone strikes against the mercenaries. And I also liked the “sun mage” Sarah encounters: she is basically the occult equivalent of a nuclear weapon, and may be even more bad-ass.

At the end though, I was left unsatisfied. I appreciate it’s a difficult balancing act, when you offer a cheap introduction to a series, because you need to lure people in to buy the next part. Although not alone in this, Edun doesn’t apparently realize that the best way to accomplish this is simply to give the reader the best book you can. Baiting them with set-ups left unrealized and a story that just ends, rather than coming to a natural finish, is more likely to lead to a sense of unfulfilled dissatisfaction. And that’s no way to get anyone to fork over more money.

Author: Terah Edun
Publisher: Amazon Digital Services, available through Amazon, both as a paperback and an e-book
Book 1 of 4 in the Crown Service series.