Category: Review

Camp

  By

★★★
“Nastiness, strong-style.”

Kozue (Yokoyama) and her younger sister Akane (Momomiya) are driving through the countryside when their car breaks down, near a closed camp-ground. Closed – but, unfortunately for them, not deserted. The well-mannered young man whom they first encounter turns out to be a lure, who brings the two women into the grasp of a pack of psychopaths. The nicknames these weirdos have, largely sum up the extreme peril of the situation for the siblings: Hypo, Pyro, Copro, Necro and Thanatos. It turns out they were all pals during an enforced stay in a nearby mental hospital. When that shut down suddenly (in a way explained later on), they opted to hang around, forming some kind of sexually-deviant collective. Kozue and Akane pretty much represent a theme-park for these perverts.

What follows is pretty tough to watch. And regular readers will know I’m hard to rock, having about 35 years of watching “video nasties” under my belt. This, though… It goes beyond the simple unpleasantness of say, I Spit on Your Grave, perhaps due to the sick inventiveness here. I mean, effectively vacuum-sealing a victim inside one of those giant plastic bags, typically used for storing bedding, and watching her suffocate? Then there’s the bit where Pyro lives up to his name – likely the scene where I questioned most quite why I was watching this. For one of our mantras here, is that when it comes to rape-revenge films, we are considerably more interested in the revenge than the rape. Which is why the original ISoYG isn’t here, but the reboot entries area.

This certainly teeters on the edge of the same exclusion, despite Kozue’s sterling efforts to draw the assailants’ attention to her and away from Akane. There’s a subplot which helps to explain the frosty relationship between the sisters, dating back to an incident involving them and Akane’s then-boyfriend. Eventually, Thanatos (Kawatsure), who seems considerably less enthusiastic about the depravity than the others, helps Kozue make a break for it. She then meets a former nurse from the facility (Ayana), who explains the history behind the posse of perverts. Although she has been trying to take them down, success has eluded her until now, when Kozue’s arrival might give her the added help necessary.

And this is where the movie does just about deliver the adequate level of revenge necessary to qualify here. For the two women team up to ensure no-one else has to suffer the same atrocities as Kosue and Akane. But even this is not as unequivocal as it could be, for the avengers are unable to agree on how Thanatos should be treated. Is it a case of, as my mother used to say, if you fly with the crows, you’ll be shot with the crows? Or do his actions perhaps indicate a salvageable slice of humanity, not deserving of the same penalties as his associates? A thoughtful movie would probably have done a better job of examining these moral issues. The target here is considerably more visceral, no argument. Yet even a low blow like this can still pack a punch.

Dir: Ainosuke Shibata
Star: Miyuki Yokoyama, Peach Momomiya, Hiroaki Kawatsure, Rei Ayana

The Archer

  By

★★
“An arrowing experience.”

Lauren Pierce (Noble) is an expert archer, leading her high-school team. However, after she rescues a friend from sexual harassment, she finds herself on the wrong side of justice, and is sent to “Paradise Trails”, an incongruously-named juvenile detention facility, where harsh discipline and indefinitely extended sentences are the order of the day. And wouldn’t you know it, the place is run by a former Olympic archer – Bob Patrice (Sage) and his creepy son, Michael (Terry). It’s not long before Lauren is plotting an unofficial departure, along with new friend Becky (Mason), who knows the truth about what’s going on behind the scenes. When they get evidence proving it during their exit, they become the hunted as Bob and Michael will go to any lengths to stop the truth from getting out.

Opening with a claim about being “inspired by true events,” apparently that means the “kids for cash” scandal from Pennsylvania. While there’s nothing wrong with that as inspiration, it’s probably a mistake for the makers, apparently to want to make a serious statement, while adopting the tropes of the juvenile delinquent and women in prison genres. Brutal wardens; sadistic guards; lesbian subtexts… This all makes it kinda tough to take seriously, whatever statement they’re trying to make. And even that’s kinda muddied, beyond “sending kids to jail for bribes is bad.” Not much to argue with there. Probably more questionable, is the way every man here is an utter bastard. It gets kinda tiresome.

The main problem, however, is simply taking too long to get anywhere. The final 20 minutes or so, have Lauren and Becky trying to get through the wilderness around the facility, with Bob and Michael in pursuit. It’s well-crafted and tense, even if it builds to the inevitable final, bow-powered confrontation between Lauren and Bob, which you can see coming from a long way off. Unfortunately… it’s the final 20 minutes. The first hour are a real slog to get through, particularly the chunk after Lauren’s arrival at Paradise Trails. The script doesn’t have any real idea about where it needs to go or what it wants to do, once the basic concepts are established. As a result, it and the characters simply rotate gently in the wind, as interest evaporates gently.

There’s not even any real logic in the concept. Lauren is supposedly a “straight A’s” student with no previous record. Could have fooled me, going by the hyper-aggressive way she beats up on her pal’s boyfriend. That shows experience in the kicking of ass. Been nice if her ability to defend herself had come into play in the facility a bit more. Except, acknowledging women’s ability to be violent might have gone against the narrative apparently being peddled here. In that light, even the heroine’s use of a bow seems like some kind of liberal cop-out to avoid giving her the far more effective force multiplier of a fire-arm.

Dir: Valerie Weiss
Star: Bailey Noble, Bill Sage, Jeanine Mason, Michael Grant Terry

Ring Girls

  By

★★★
“Punches above its weight.”

This dates back from 2005, before Carano was a household name in the world of mixed martial arts, or a somewhat successful actress. At this point, she was only involved in the sport of muay thai, which as it’s name suggests, is a martial art originating in Thailand. She was one of five girls training in Las Vegas under Toddy – a nickname given because the teacher’s real name of Thohsaphol Sitiwatjana was too unpronounceable to Westerners! The goal of both Toddy and his students was a trip to Thailand to take on the best local practitioners of the sport. This “documentary” covers both their training and the visit itself, climaxing with Carano’s battle against the Thai champion.

Quotes are used advisedly around documentary, because of two elements – neither of which help the film. The first is some kind of beef, I’m guessing entirely fabricated, between Toddy and his brother “Master A”, who is a muay thai trainer back in Thailand. Apparently Toddy brought disrespect to the country by teaching their skills to foreign devils or something. [I think this may have been lifted from the life of Bruce Lee?] It’s a bit silly and pointless, but at least it can easily be ignored. Worse are the fake sounds added to the fights, when punches and kicks land. They’re not even well done, and rather than enhancing things, make the contests seem fake.

This is unfortunate, as there’s otherwise a lot to like here. Even though an unknown at the time, you can see why the film focuses on Carano, who is clearly not just the best fighter, even to my amateur eyes, she is also the most charismatic. Sometimes, this works against it: we barely get to learn the results of the other four fights in Thailand. But it mainly helps, like a low-budget movie which lucks into starring a future Oscar winner [hello, Cyborg 2!]. And despite the post-audio’s relentless attempts to derail things, the fights are quite impressive, with the impact of the blows apparent purely from the visual side, such as the reaction of the punchee.

It all makes for a rather inconsistent blend of fact and fiction, and everyone involved would have been better served by deciding in which camp they stood. If fictional, develop a better narrative, with setbacks (at the risk of spoilering, I’m not sure we see any of the girls ever lose a match). Or go strictly factual, and use the time spent on things like Toddy’s family issues, perhaps to give us deeper background on the fighters. Heck, more info on the Thai women would have been welcome, too, comparing and contrasing life in Bangkok to Las Vegas. However, you should not let these criticisms put you off watching this (I stumbled across it on Amazon Prime), as it’s still an interesting insight into the tough world of women (or the world of tough women?) in martial arts.

Dir: Jennifer Ferrara + Thomas Weber
Star: Gina Carano, Master Toddy, Ardra Hernandez, Lisa King

Daughter of the Wolf

  By

★★
“Bit of a bad dog.”

The cinematic goodwill Carano accumulated as the result of her electric debut in Haywire, is rapidly evaporating. I understand that you can’t expect to work with Steven Soderbergh every time, but the returns have been diminishing with a relentless steadiness since for her. This is certainly the worst one yet, though in her defense, the problem are less to do with her performance. They are more the results of a script which takes several, widely disparate ideas, and doesn’t just fail to connect them into a coherent whole, it also manages to screw them up on an individual level, to the point where most of them become little more than silly garbage.

We join a kidnapping already in progress, as Charlie (Gillis-Adelman), the son of Clair Hamilton (Carano), having been abducted by “Father” (Dreyfuss), a cult-like leader who has long held a grudge against Clair’s dad. Quite why he bothered waiting until after the target was dead to take his vengeance, is one of the many things this film fails to explain adequately. At the supposed handover of cash for Charlie, a fire-fight breaks out, which is right in the wheel-house of Clair, a former soldier. Two of the three kidnappers end up dead, the third, Larsen (Fehr), is not such a bad guy, and ends up saving her life after she falls through the ice. Still, she makes him take her to Father, and matters are complicated by the presence of a pack of wolves, who appear to have their own agenda.

About the only thing which saves this are the amazing Canadian landscapes, lushly photographed by Mark Dobrescu. There’s one location in particular, an ice waterfall, which is jaw-droppingly beautiful to an almost implausible degree, forming the backdrop to one of the movie’s less than impressive action sequences. Of course, someone goes over the edge, plummeting to their doom. Oh, wait. My mistake: they subsequently show up again later, with little evidence of damage beyond a somewhat annoyed expression on their face, as if mildly inconvenienced by an out of service elevator. This implausible approach reaches its nadir in Father three-ironing a canine off a precipice with his rifle butt, a moment which genuinely made me laugh out loud. And not with the movie.

Indeed, the wolves are set up as if they’re going to be important, only to vanish from the film, before inexplicably returning for  a tacked-on coda which had me rolling my eyes. While I did like the concept of leaping right into the action, the resulting attempts to fill in the backstory are painfully clunky and add little if anything. It’s definitely a case where less would have been more: simply making it Clair vs. the kidnappers should have been sufficient. We certainly don’t need a distaff cross between two Liam Neeson films, Taken and The Grey. Carano still does have a physical presence that possesses potential. But she really needs to be making better choices.

Dir: David Hackl
Star: Gina Carano, Brendan Fehr, Richard Dreyfuss, Anton Gillis-Adelman

M in the Demon Realm, Vol. 1-2, by Mark William Hammond

  By

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

I feel a little uncertain about reviewing this, since it’s basically two-thirds of a single novel. Or maybe two connected novellas. Oddly, the three entries get longer as they go, starting at 110 pages, increasing to 160 for the second and finishing off at around 210. I’ve been waiting for the third and final part to show up on special offer for a while, but it hasn’t happened. The first two parts were somewhat intriguing, just not enough to convince me to pay full price. So I finally decided to publish and be damned. Wait and see its cost drop the week after this goes live…

Anyway, the heroine here is Emma Ricci, who begins the first book, M in the Demon Realm, as a fashion student in New York. However, she has a heritage and legacy to live up to, one of which she is only dimly aware, through recurrent disturbing dreams. It comes into sharp focus after demonic warriors attack her and her boyfriend, killing him; only her latent skills allow her to survive. No-one believes her account, except for a small group of Chinese guardians led by Li Bai. Emma – or M as she becomes – learns she is the descendant of a Chinese warrior bloodline. She is now the only thing standing between someone trying to open a portal that will unleash literal hell on earth, which is why she was targetted.

Fortunately, her allies can train her, in particular, to use a ribbon sword which is “liberated” from a local museum. That, and some unexpected assistance from a giant canine, allow M to face the threat and recover the (slightly Lament Configuration-like) artifact used to open the gate. In volume two, M in the Empire of the Dead, she returns it to the Tibetan monastery where it is kept, only for the relic rapidly to be liberated by the bone demon. Baigujing. The action shifts  to Paris and its labyrinthine catacombs, where Baigujing begin preparations for its use. This time, M is going to need to fight her battles, not just on Earth, but in hell itself.

It’s decent enough, from what I can tell: I’ll presume the obviously dangling loose end about M being a twin is going to form a key element of the third volume. The basic premise is probably over-familiar: something something Buffy. However, the Asian influence is nicely done, and while Vol 1 + 2 have similar stories, the different locations provide variety. The depiction of hell is also well-drawn, feeling like a written version of Hieronymus Bosch. My main issue is the characters, which feel under-written. M, in particular, doesn’t seem to be given much depth. What is she thinking? How does she feel about her transition from student and part-time waitress to saviour of the planet? I’d be hard pushed to tell you, to this point. That, and slightly repetitive action scenes, explains which I’m waiting for a discount on part three.

Author: Mark William Hammond
Publisher: Amazon Digital Services, available through Amazon, both as a paperback and an e-book
Books 1-2 of 3 in the M in the Demon Realm series.

Shuddhi

  By

★★★
“Social justice vs. warrior.”

I should probably start by providing some background the film omits – likely because the intended Indian audience were well aware of it. In 2012, a notorious gang-rape took place in Delhi, the victim subsequently dying. Of the six attackers, four were sentenced to death and one committed suicide in prison – but the sixth, being a juvenile, could only receive a maximum sentence of three years. This loophole appalled many, including two journalists depicted in this film, Jyothi (Nivedhitha) and Divya (Karagada), who begin a campaign to revise the law.

At the same time, American photographer Karlyn Smith (Spartano) returns to India, with a very different but even more personal mission: taking revenge on the men who raped her. This is a highly-risky job, beginning when her attempt to buy a gun turns into a mugging. Matters aren’t helped when another attempted robbery leads to her attacker’s death, and a subsequent police investigation by Rakesh Patil (Purushotham). Nevertheless, she persists, tracking down and eliminating the gang responsible like a female Charles Bronson; initially, one by one, then finding the remainder as they crash a house party.

It really feels like two different movies edited together. You have Jyothi and Divya, touring the country putting on little stage plays, offering an interpretive dance version of gang-rape in a bid to raise awareness. Then there’s Karlyn, opting for a considerably more direct form of protest: shooting rapists. The threads only overlap at the end, in an extended coda where Karlyn may or may not have drowned. It’s all rather confusing, and the film’s insistence on jiggling the time-line for dramatic effect is also more irritating than enlightening. For instance, it opens with an off-camera shooting, that turns out – for no good reason – to be the second robbery attempt on our vengeful heroine.

The good news is Spartano – who has almost no previous feature work to her name – does an excellent job with her part of the film, and it’s that which held my interest. Interesting decision by the makers, to create and cast an American character for this role, rather than using an Indian actress. [The director know the actress from his time at the New York Film Academy, and also brought on board an American music director and cinematographer] Yet it still manages to weave in to its narrative strands from Indian mythology: the title is an alternate name for the goddess Durga, the Hindu warrior goddess. Wikipedia tells me her “mythology centres around combating evils and demonic forces that threaten peace, prosperity and dharma of the good. She is the fierce form of the protective mother goddess, willing to unleash her anger against wrong, violence for liberation and destruction to empower creation.”

Hard to argue with that: at one point, Karlyn says, “When you get used to it – killing – it’s as easy as breathing.” And there’s one particularly memorable shot at the party where Karlyn just stalks past an opening, and it suddenly feels like a wildlife documentary about tigers hunting. Just a shame they film didn’t go full-bore into this aspect, rather than diluting it with Jyothi and Divya’s ineffectual social campaigning.

Dir: Adarsh Eshwarappa
Star: Lauren Spartano, Nivedhitha, Amrutha Karagada, Shashank Purushotham

Hostile

  By

★★★
“We are the monsters.”

After an un-specified global apocalypse, humanity is reduced to small bands of scattered survivors, who have to try and scratch out survival, while avoiding the attacks of “reapers”, mutated creatures which stalk the landscape, especially after dark. One of those survivors is Juliette (Ashworth), who is on a foraging mission in the desert when an accident throws her off the road, and leaves her with a badly-broken leg. She has to wait for help to arrive, fending off the reaper (Botet) which is prowling the area, with whatever she can find to hand. As she does so, she thinks about life before the apocalypse, where she escaped drug addiction with the help of her boyfriend, gallery owner Jack (Fitoussi) – only for happiness to be fleeting, and taken away from her when multiple tragedies strike.

Initially, the structure bugged the hell out of me. Just when tension was being ramped up, with Juliette in peril and having to cope with a host of issues, simply to survive, we’d suddenly flash back to mundane reality, and thoroughly unconvincing chat between her and Jack. This happened on multiple occasions, and I was left wondering what the relevance of it all was. Beyond her apparent issues with reading, there seemed to be little or no connection. Finally, at the end, you suddenly get the point. While it’s quite a touching revelation, and the ending in undeniably poignant, I’m not sure it was enough to counter all the irritation the approach generated earlier.

The other problem, is that Turi is considerably better at the action/horror aspects, than at relationship drama. It’s a while before we see the first reaper. Juliette’s first encounter with one takes place inside a caravan where she foraging; the camera remains outside and, brilliantly, we only see the impact of her battle with the creature on the caravan, as well as hearing it, of course. When we finally see one, it lives up to what our imagination has crafted, and is creepy as hell. That’s thanks mostly to Botet’s fine work as a “body actor,” along the lines of Doug Jones. In contrast, there’s little or no wallop packed by the scenes involving Juliette and Jack, which are closer to bad soap-opera.

As noted, you eventually understand why, yet I can’t help thinking there were better ways to handle it. While necessary exposition, front-loading all the set-up, rather than spreading it out through the film, and doing so more efficiently, would perhaps have helped. I’d rather have seen how we got there from here (“there” being the post-apoc world, in case it’s not clear), than rehash every detail of what’s clearly a doomed relationship. If we’d had the reaper stalking her over an extended period, that might also have helped credibility in terms of the final revelation, and a bit more likeability for the heroine would have been welcome. As is, the good here is really good; it’s unfortunately countered by a number of significant issues.

Dir: Mathieu Turi
Star: Brittany Ashworth, Gregory Fitoussi, Javier Botet

I am Mother

  By

★★★½
“Lies, damned lies and motherhood.”

After an extinction-event has turned Earth uninhabitable, an underground “ark” holds thousands of human embryos, overseen by a robotic Mother (voiced by Byrne, performed by Hawker). One embryo is brought to fruition, becoming Daughter (Rugaard, resembling a young Jennifer Garner), who grows up into a young woman, educated by Mother to believe she’s alone on the planet. But she begins to doubt what Mother tells her, and these doubts are confirmed when another, older woman (Swank) shows up. Let in by Daughter, she tells tales of humanity outside struggling for survival against robot killers. Everything Daughter has been told is a lie. Or is the new arrival telling the whole truth either?

The film’s main strength is the way it manages expertly the shifting sands of audience perception. Initially, we’re led to believe that Mother is potentially the saviour of humanity. However, it soon becomes clear that the robot is not being entirely honest with her charge, and our sympathies move towards the Woman, who wants to rescue Daughter from her enforced isolation. Yet, in the end, there’s another agenda there as well, and right until the credits roll, you’re kept watching to see beyond the next bend in the story-line. While there are clues dropped, almost from the beginning, you may not notice them until everything comes together. Or perhaps even past that point; I’ll confess, I did have to do some light post-viewing Googling in order to grasp all the consequences.

It’s rare, especially in the SF genre, to see a film without a male speaking part [bar some archive footage from The Tonight Show, anyway!]. Though one senses any money saved on the small cast was simply diverted to an impressive set of production values, depicting not just the facility, but also the devastated outside world after… well, whatever the extinction event was, since it’s never described. That’s not really the focus of the film, yet I felt it was a bit of a shame, The story of the Woman’s survival, up until she came banging on the door, would have been equally interesting as the Daughter’s. I do have… let’s just say, some questions about the coincidence of them arriving at the air-lock at the same time, and also the Woman’s plot-convenient amnesia.

At 113 minutes, it does run somewhat long, and is a little light on action for my tastes. The film is definitely on the more cerebral side of science fiction cinema, something not apparent from the trailer. Rather than explosions, the script prefers to pose awkward questions about the needs of the many outweighing the needs of the few, or the moral implications of ripping it all up to start again. However, it never sinks to boring, with decent performances which help guide the film through the occasional doldrums. Hat-tip to Rob for steering me in the direction of a film which I’d otherwise likely have skipped past, in the never-ending and ongoing stream of Netflix original movies.

Dir: Grant Sputore
Star: Clara Rugaard, Rose Byrne, Hilary Swank, Luke Hawker

Revengence Superlady

  By

★★★
“Sympathy for Lady Revengence.”

Despite a mangled title, what you have here is a straightforward tale of vengeance – and its attempts to diverge from that narrative are when the film is at its least interesting. Evil general Ji Xian Tang kills the parents of Ho Yu Fung (Ding): well, I suppose technically he only kills her father, her mother committing suicide by the corpse. In some remarkably unsubtle foreshadowing, Yu Fung is told, “This broadsword is our family heirloom. Our hope for vengeance is in your hands.” Given this, it’s no surprise she escapes with the help of a brave sacrifice from a servant, and becomes the pupil of a kung-fu master.

After what feels possibly as much as weeks of training, she heads out to get her revenge, though her first attempt succeeds only in killing one of Ji’s body-doubles. The film then drifts off-course, as she overhears the servants of traveling scholar Master An plotting to rob him, and helps him avoid that fate. He’s a supremely uninteresting character: they have absolutely no chemistry together and their relationship serves no purpose.  Meanwhile, the General has realized Yu Fung is after him – perhaps a result of her showing up at his residence, and going on about having been sent by “the souls of your victims.” So he unleashes the Iron Monk, a.k.a. Iron Sand a.k.a. Iron Buddha a.k.a. Lord Wang. The subtitles are kinda vague.

Mind you, if I was called Lord Wang, I’d probably have an a.k.a. too.

Anyway, Mr. Wang tries to force Yu Fung’s teacher to give her up, and Master An spends the night at a Buddhist temple run by cannibalistic monks(!). Yu Fung shows up to rescue him, and to do so, has to go through a spectacular series of traps. These made me strongly suspect this might originally have been shot in 3-D, since they tend to come straight for the camera. It’s certainly the film’s most memorable sequence, even in 2-D. Then she suddenly remembers about the whole familial slaughter vengeance mission thing, and it’s eventually off to battle past Wang, then face Ji around and up a large pagoda. You just know someone is going off the top…

Definitely getting an extra half-star for the Buddhist temple apparently run by people who’d seen Indiana Jones and Cannibal Holocaust, it helps that Ding kinda has a resemblance to a young Michelle Yeoh (at the time this came out in 1986, she was just getting started across the frontier in Hong Kong). She has a nice, acrobatic style; there were a couple of scenes where I thought she was being doubled, only for the camera then to show, no, it was actually her doing the moves. However, the pacing has a lot of room for improvement, grinding to a halt more or less whenever Master An is on screen. Between that and the entry-level nature of the storyline, this doesn’t manage to live up to the “Super” element of its title.

Dir: Tôru Murakawa and Qitian Yang
Star: Ding Lam, Yau Kin Kwok, Wong Jun, Lee Jun Fung
a.k.a. 13th Sister or Lucky 13

Double Play, by Kelley Armstrong

  By

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

Some years ago, my Goodreads friend Mary J.L. gave the original novel of the author’s Nadia Stafford trilogy a favorable review, and that put it on my radar. As a rule, I don’t read novels that are only published in electronic format (it does have a audio version, but I don’t listen to audio books either), but I do read short e-stories; electronic publishing provides a forum for those works which no longer exists in print, what with the demise of general-circulation magazines. This tale, as a novella, occupies a middle ground, but commercially novellas are in much the same boat as short stories –a single one wouldn’t sell very well in print format. So I felt it was fair to treat it the same way, and thought it would be a good way to check out the series for myself.

From reading the descriptions, and some reviews, of the novels in the original trilogy, I figured I would have enough knowledge of the characters and their situation so as not to have a problem understanding this one. That proved to be true. However, a significant caveat is that this continuation does contain spoilers in the romantic-triangle aspect of the novels and some of the denouement of the third novel, Wild Justice, so readers who would be very bothered by that should read the series in order. (And regarding the romantic triangle, probably shouldn’t read either this review or the novella description!)

Ex-cop turned guest lodge owner/manager Nadia (“Dee”) Stafford’s action qualifications aren’t in question; but some might challenge her heroine qualifications since, as the Goodreads description makes clear, her unadvertised side occupation is as a hit woman. But Nadia’s not your average amoral, anything-for-money hired killer; she’s actually a lady with a very lively conscience, a concern for justice and the protection of the innocent, and a strict code of professional ethics to govern her extra-legal line of work. Though I haven’t read much fiction with assassin protagonists, I think they can be interesting characters when they approach their work with a sense of right and wrong and ethical obligation; and Nadia qualifies in that respect. Of course, I don’t endorse her career choice (and she’d actually agree that it’s objectively wrong, even though she’s not planning to quit). But I can still like and respect her, and wish her well; and when she’s willingly putting her life on the line to help someone in trouble, as she is here, I’m not one to deny her a “heroine” accolade.

When our story opens, Nadia and her lover, fellow assassin Jack (who was introduced in the first novel) are in the process of building a house in the woods near her lodge. At the moment, though, Jack’s in his native Ireland on business, and phone communication between the two is precarious because of their security concerns. In the first chapter, she’s approached by an acquaintance from a shadowy vigilante organization she’s had contact with before, who’s looking for Quinn, one of the organization’s operatives –and Nadia’s ex-boyfriend (pre-Jack). He’s dropped out of sight, and it’s clearly not intentional; he’s been kidnapped, by parties and for purposes unknown. In their milieu, just placing a missing persons report and letting the police do their job isn’t a practical option; so Nadia’s soon off to Virginia to help with the search and (hopefully) rescue, and the action takes off. (And don’t forget Jack in Ireland….)

The 17 chapters alternate between Nadia’s first-person narration and third-person narration, but from Jack’s perspective and in his vocabulary. Some readers may find his predilection for the f-word as all-purpose adjective and adverb wince-worthy –he doesn’t say it much, being notoriously laconic, but he thinks it repeatedly. (No other character uses it to that extent, however, and Nadia, while she might occasionally let slip a cuss word or vulgarism, doesn’t use it at all.). A Byzantine plot lies behind the kidnapping, and I deducted a star for ultimately contradictory plotting: a number of details in the previous chapters, given the denouement, don’t really make sense, IMO. (And, recalling the old TV show America’s Dumbest Criminals, the villain here could qualify for star billing on a World’s Dumbest Criminals show, if there were one.)

For all that, though, the story is a page-turner, and the two lead characters are, for contract assassins, genuinely likable. Readers of the trilogy already are familiar with them; but I got to know them here in a way that’s not possible just from book descriptions. We also get glimpses of their psychological baggage –Jack’s going back to Northern Ireland’s bloody Troubles in his teens, and Nadia’s as a past rape victim. (While the two aren’t married, their love for each other is sincere and has a good effect on their lives, and the references to their lovemaking aren’t very explicit.) While I hope the novels in the trilogy are better plotted, I still liked this literary appetizer enough to plan to give the series opener a try!

Author: Kelley Armstrong
Publisher: Traverse Press; available through Amazon, currently only along with the next novella, Perfect Victim – both as e-books and in paperback.

A version of this review previously appeared on Goodreads.