The Baztan Trilogy

The Baztan trilogy consists of three movies, based on the novels by Dolores Redondo. The setting for these is a small area in the Basque country of Spain, not far from the border with France. Much like the small-town English villages such as Miss Marple’s St. Mary Mead, or Death in Paradise‘s Honoré, the murder rate in this charming and picturesque area appears to rival that of a South American war-zone. I guess you can describe the series as Español negro, being a Mediterranean-based version of Nordic noir. Like those, you have a detective with a troubled past, a history that frequently seeps into her current life, They are investigating crimes resulting from what’s unquestionably the darker side of human nature, and the results are uncomfortably close to home.

In this trilogy, the heroine is Amaia Salazar, a former resident of the region who left under circumstances best described as murky. She joined the police force, rising through the ranks and going through a successful secondment to the FBI, where she distinguished herself. Amaia is now back in Spain, with her American artist husband, James. But, as ever in this kind of thing, the pull of her past is strong. She finds herself coming back to the Baztan region in which she grew up. There, the ghosts of history are lurking and ready to pose a challenge – perhaps equal to that of solving the brutal murders which are the reason for her return.

The trilogy includes the books El guardián invisible (The Invisible Guardian), Legado en los huesos (The Legacy of the Bones) and Ofrenda a la tormenta (Offering to the Storm). From 2017 through 2020, the books were made into three movies by Atresmedia Cine and its partners. Five years after the last of the books was published, Redondo wrote a prequel, La cara norte del corazón (The North Face of the Heart), describing Amaia’s youth and her time with the FBI in America. All four novels were optioned to Heyday Films for American adaptations in October 2021, but there has been almost no news since the original announcement. Still, with the Spanish movies all available on Netflix, the need for any English-language versions is questionable in my opinion. Such things rarely improve on, or even equal, the originals.

Hence, below you’ll find reviews of the three Spanish movies in order. Note: I haven’t read the books, so there will be no further discussion of them, or comparison to the films.


The Invisible Guardian

★★★½
“It’s never sunny in Baztan.”

I’ve traveled a fair bit around Spain and Mediterranean Europe in my time, and the weather was never as unremittingly grim as its depicted here. Things seem to unfold in a permanent downpour. Seriously: Chris and I pretty much were turning it into a drinking game by the end: take a swig every time a scene takes place in the rain. Only concern for the health of our livers prevented us. Googling tells me Baztan is fairly wet: around 55 inches a year. But it felt like most of that arrived during the 129 minute running-time of this film. I suspect David Fincher and Se7en have a lot to answer for, with rain = dark and foreboding atmosphere.

There’s certainly no shortage of that here, even setting meteorological considerations aside. It begins with the discovery of a young girl’s corpse by a river, stripped naked except for a local cake placed on her crotch. Pamplona detective Amaia Salazar (Etura) makes the connection to a previous murder and is sent to Baztan to take over the case. It’s the town where she grew up, and she still has family there. Though relations are still strained with her sister Flora (Mínguez), who runs a bakery in the town. She feels Amaia abandoned the family by “running off” to the United States. It’s not long before we discover their mother had issues, physically abusing Amaia as a child.

However, the main focus is the murders, with further victims turning up, all young girls whose bodies are posed in the same, ritualistic way. The investigation reveals these may be the latest in a series of killings going back fourteen years, which appear to be some kind of moral crusade by the perpetrator. Amaia gets into trouble with her colleagues, because one of the victims was having an affair with her brother-in-law, and she also conceals evidence connecting Flora’s bakery to the cake. She ends up being replaced on the case by Montés (Orella). If you think that’s going to stop Amaia, you clearly haven’t seen enough of this genre.

It does feel very much like the film could be relocated to the Scandinavian forests with very little trouble. There is some specifically local colour in the form of the “Basajaun”, a legendary – or perhaps not – creature, reputed to roam the woods. I suspect its going to play a larger part in the subsequent movies: while this does tidy up the main case, there are a number of loose ends, such as a cave containing a lot more remains. Etura does a good job of handling both the personal drama and the police elements: you may not agree with some of the choices, yet you can see why she made them. Amaia has been through hell, and that she still made something of her life is an admirable trait. A solid enough opening, which even lured Chris off her phone.

Dir: Fernando González Molina
Star: Marta Etura, Elvira Mínguez, Carlos Librado “Nene”, Francesc Orella

The Legacy of the Bones

★★★★
“Skeletons in the closet”

We jump ahead about a year for the second installment. Amaia Salazar (Etura) has now had the baby she announced she was expecting during the first film, and is adjusting to the need for balance between her career and motherhood, with her husband, James. After completing her maternity leave, she returns to work, and is put on a case of church desecration with cult undertones, at the request of the enigmatic Fr. Sarasola (Arias). This is tied to the Cagots, a historically persecuted group native to the region. Simultaneously, there is an ongoing string of murderers committing suicide, each leaving behind a one-word message: “Tartalo”. It’s a reference to a baby-eating giant from Basque mythology, and seems to be linked to the cave of remains found in the previous film.

Both cases take a deeply-personal turn, reflecting the family of Amaia’s long-standing association with the area. When tested for DNA, the bones left on the church altar are a match for her genetics, and her abusive mother Rosario (Sánchez), now kept in a psychiatric facility, scrawls “Taratalo” on the floor of the room in blood, after attacking an orderly.  Amaia is forced to uncover some very unpleasant truths about the history of her family – and, indeed, the way the region in general dealt with children perceived as unwanted or problematic. Her newborn son becomes part of the scenario as it unfolds, pushing the heroine close to the edge, as she picks her way towards solving the crimes of both the past and present.

This goes into some thoroughly dark places, building on the heavy atmosphere set up in the previous movie. For example, we already knew that Rosario is dangerous, and a patently unfit mother. But what we see her do in this film, goes beyond the mere abuse we previously saw. It’s fortunate that Amaia has a strong support network elsewhere in her family, such as Aunt Tía (Aixpuru), who can offer advice and assistance to help keep her niece on the relatively straight and narrow. To be honest, the revelations here would shake anyone to their core, and it’s testament to the heroine’s strength of character, that she is still able to function as a police detective, while the foundations of her life are being pulled out from under her.

The script does a very good job of keeping the multiple plot-threads functioning, moving each forward in turn, as information regarding the situation is discovered. While avoiding spoilers, it is a little hard to believe Amaia would be so in the dark about the situation in regard to her own family: you’d think Tia might have said something? However, there is an almost relentless grimness of tone here – and a lot more rain as well, with a flooded town being integral to the plot – which pulled me in with the inevitability of a rip tide. It might just about work as a standalone entity, yet you will certainly get more out of this, if you’ve seen the first movie and know where it’s coming from.

Dir: Fernando González Molina
Star: Marta Etura, Itziar Aizpuru, Imanol Arias, Susi Sánchez

Offering to the Storm

★★
“Gale force disappointment.”

Oh, dear. I think it’s probably been a very long while since I’ve been so underwhelmed by the finale of a trilogy. All the pieces were in place, after the first two entries, for a grandstand finish to the series. But the script basically fumbles things in every conceivable way, pushing to the front elements that you really don’t care about, while all but discarding things that seemed of crucial importance. There is an effort to tie everything together, with the various crimes from its predecessors being linked into an occult conspiracy in which members of a Satanic circle sacrifice baby girls, and receive worldly power in exchange. This aspect is okay, Amaia having to go up against a group whose power is embedded at the highest levels of local society. The creepiest element is perhaps that the sacrifices seem to work, though nobody seems too bothered about this. 

Unfortunately, it doesn’t gel well with the elements carried forward from the first two movies, and a lot of the elements that should be shocking or disturbing simple are not. The worst example is the identity of the cult’s “inside man”, which is so painfully obvious, you may find yourself yelling at the screen, and Amaia as she ploughs on with her investigation, completely oblivious to the threat. Little less blatant is the plot thread where husband James (Northover) is going back to America because his father is ill. We’ve seen enough in this genre to know that there is no possible way Amaia is going to end up accompanying him, regardless of how much she promises she will. The film seems convinced it is the first ever to use this device, to demonstrate how its dedicated, troubled detective has her priorities skewed. 

This somewhat ties into the whole fidelity subplot, which did nothing except make us (Chris especially) lose empathy for the lead character. In this installment, Amaia just does not seem as “heroic” as previously. I get that the pressure on her is building. But I would have preferred it to lean into the saying, “Hard times breed strong women.” There’s just too many occasions on which she breaks down and starts sobbing instead. Some of it may be justified: there’s the uncertainty about the fate of her mother, for example, who was last seen plunging into a flood-swollen mountain river. This is resolved. In about the least satisfactory way possible. At least it is addressed. Remember the “Basajaun”? Because the makers here clearly did not.

At 139 minutes, this is the longest of the trilogy, and you’ll be forgiven if you think it feels that way too. Rather than being led by the film, all too often we found ourselves ahead of it, and then having to wait for the plot and characters to catch up with what we had already figured out. We also ended up rolling our eyes heavily at some of the plot developments, such as the mother of a sacrificed baby acquiring some dynamite and using it to blow open the vault where her child is buried. Wait, what? It’s a shame, that after two films which did so much right, the third does goes wrong in so many different ways.

Dir: Fernando González Molina
Star: Marta Etura, Leonardo Sbaraglia, Carlos Librado “Nene”, Benn Northover

Altitudes

★★★
“Climb every mountain…”

I was really surprised to discover that this French film is actually made for television. It has a certain gravitas and thoughtfulness to it, that you rarely find in a genre which is (often rightfully) derided as being formulaic and cliched. This doesn’t escape those criticisms entirely – in particular, there’s a “Disease of the Week” subplot, which does feel as it it might have strayed in from Lifetime or Hallmark. However, even there, it feels handled in a relatively natural manner, rather than being shoehorned in there to elicit sympathy from the viewer. It definitely looks better than most TVMs out of Hollywood. Whether this is down to Félix von Muralt’s cinematography, or simply the stunning Alpine landscapes, is open to debate.

It begins at a funeral. Isabelle Dormann (Borotra) has returned following fifteen years away, after the death of her father, a former mountaineer, who then ran a lodge high in the Alps. This allows her to reconnect with her friend, Kenza (Krey), a world-class climber herself, but also more awkwardly, with Antoine (Stévenin), a man with whom she had a relationship which helped precipitate Isabelle’s sudden departure from the mountains. She decides to honour her father by climbing a new route up Les Roches Brunes, the nearby mountain after which the lodge was called. At 4,357 metres high, it’s the tallest peak in the area, and Isabelle always talked with her father about pioneering a new route up it, to be named for the family.

She and Kenza decide to honour her late father by doing just that. However, it turns out Isabelle is suffering from a neurodegenerative condition, which is slowly but inevitably killing her, making it a race against time before her physical abilities just aren’t there. It seems this is a fight she has lost, as practice sessions don’t go well. Yet after Kenza calls off the attempt, Isabelle decides to strike out on her own for a solo ascent. Kenza and Antoine follow, hoping to save her from herself.

I like films about climbing, when they concentrate on the climbing. Yet, it seems inevitable to tack on personal drama of one kind or another. It’s not enough simply to have one person taking on nature. Too often, they need to have a dead fiance or similar motivation, and the results often tend to resemble bad soap-opera. That’s definitely the case here, with the whole Isabelle-Antoine relationship dramatically overcooked, and muddying the water. The same goes for Isabelle’s condition: she could simply have been not experienced enough to take on the climb. However, when the movie sets such formulaic conceits aside and concentrates on the almost primeval struggle, it’s much more effective. I can’t even dock it significantly for Antoine effectively white-knighting things, since the ending is bittersweet enough to justify it. I think it’s one which will stick in my mind, for longer than it felt it would at the time. 

Dir: Pierre-Antoine Hiroz
Star: Claire Borotra, Déborah Krey, Sagamore Stévenin, Isabelle Caillat
a.k.a. The Climb

Nemesis

★★½
“Two’s company, Tree’s a crowd.”

I was going to go with “Tree’s company” as the tagline, before I realized I’ve actually used that in three separate, forest-set movies. So I decided to adjust it slightly, and what’s above is indeed very apt. There is a cast of three (3) and the entire thing unfolds in the woods. There isn’t a single set or interior shot in the whole film. Indeed, if you’d asked me, I’d have said this had all the hallmarks of a COVID-era project, designed to be shot with a small cast and in a nicely sanitary, outdoor location. Not so, even though Tubi dates it as 2020. There was a screening in April 2019, well before anyone had heard of Wuhan, and the IMDb gives it a year of 2017.

McKenzie Montero (Villegas) is a bounty hunter transporting a fugitive she has captured back to civilization. Her car is involved in an crash, and her captive, murderer Noah Burnham (Wilder), escapes into the expanse of woods by the road. McKenzie goes in pursuit, but ends up having to babysit the driver of the other car, Abigail Stroud (Slattery), who professes to be concerned about McKenzie’s health after the accident. Except, almost none of the preceding statements are 100% accurate. In particular, we learn that Abigail is actually an accomplice of Noah – albeit somewhat reluctantly – and her motives obviously do not line up with those of her new friend. McKenzie, meanwhile, is desperate to get the reward Noah represents, and will not let anyone get in the way.

Given the constraints under which its operating, this is not a terrible time-passer. However, I can’t say that the various twists ever came as quite the shock the writer seemed to think. It felt obvious from the start that Abigail was not the innocent driver she claimed to be, and the way the relationship between her and McKenzie went from zero to BFFs, confiding secrets, seemed a tad forced. On the other hand, I’d like to have learned more about some elements, such as Noah’s claim to be an officially sanctioned serial killer, working for the US government. As is, this seems inserted as a rather crude way to leave the viewer uncertain of who the “good guy/gal” is, given McKenzie is not exactly law-enforcement herself.

As such, you will soon realize there are no real heroes here, with each of the trio clearly intent on manipulating the other two, to their respective ends. For instance, Abigail and Noah need McKenzie, because she’s the only one who can get them out of the woods. Watching this mental chess game unfold, in between bouts of adequately-staged physical confrontation, is when the movie is at its most entertaining. I was never sure until the very end who was going to be able to walk away by the time everything was decided. The problem was, though, that when the final credits rolled, I realized that I did not particularly care about anybody’s fate either.

Dir: Carl Joglar
Star: Colleen Slattery, Sarah Villegas, Nicholas Wilder

Shelter

★★★½
“Never trust the Jews.”

The above is said by an Arab character, passing on advice from her father. By the end of it, despite this being an Israeli-produced movie, you may be inclined to agree with them. Mind you, on the basis of this, you should also never trust, the Arabs, Americans or Germans either. This dive into the world of intelligence, counter-intelligence and realpolitik is so morally murky, it should come with a head-lamp, to assist viewers peering into the darkness. Naomi (Riskin) is a Mossad agent, who has been out of the game for two years, since her husband, a fellow spy, was killed in a terrorist attack. She has now been tasked with what should be a simple job, guarding Hezbollah informant Mona (Farahani).

The latter has just been spirited out of the Middle East, after her cover was blown. Mona had plastic surgery and is recuperating in Hamburg for two weeks, before beginning a new life in Canada. Except, nothing in the world of spydom is ever “simple.” Hezbollah are very keen not to let Mona’s treachery escape unpunished, and Naomi’s nerves are on a knife-edge of perpetual tension, with even a simple wrong number telephone call triggering paranoia. Yet she has every reason to be suspicious. For far above the two women’s heads, wheels are in motion. America want to defeat ISIS, and needs Iran’s help. Iran supports Hezbollah. So if the price of Iran’s co-operation is merely an informant who is no longer of use…

“We take care of our people,” is an oft-repeated mantra, particularly by Naomi’s handler, Gad (Ashkenazi). But by the end, you’ll be feeling it’s more a sick joke than genuine commitment. While he may mean well, his hands are largely tied in terms of actual care. The reality is closer to Spock’s line in Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan: “The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few”. Naomi is aware of this, though matters aren’t helped by Mona’s fatalistic approach: “This apartment is cursed,” she mutters at one point. They do inevitably bond, mostly over children: Mona had to leave her son behind, Naomi is trying to conceive via a sperm donor. Though there’s also a makeover session, which is a bit cringey, to be honest – albeit, a makeover session which eventually proves  necessary to the plot.

However, when this is simply focusing on screwing up the tension, Riklis does a fine job, creating a world where anyone and everyone is potentially a lethal threat. Hyper-vigilance is an essential trait for survival, since a casual look can be the only warning you get. Yet that way lies inevitable burnout on an overdose of adrenaline. I’m not 100% certain the final twists quite deliver, at least from a logical point of view: I have questions, is all I can say on the topic. Yet they do deliver a satisfactory emotional payoff, and the journey to get there has been fine as well.

Dir: Eran Riklis
Star: Neta Riskin, Golshifteh Farahani, Lior Ashkenazi, Doraid Liddawi

Kid West

★★★
“A little heart goes a long way”

I’ve mentioned before the general lack of action-heroine films for the pre-teenage crowd: The Golden Compass is a rare example of one which would play for that audience. This is another, though that is largely where the similarities end. This likely cost considerably less than 1% of Compass‘s $180 million budget, being an independent production out of Minnesota. However, what it almost entirely lacks in spectacle, it largely makes up for with no small amount of heart. The little heroine is 12-year-old Harper ‘Kid’ West (Bair), who has just moved with her Mom from Missouri to Minnesota. Dad, a sheriff, was killed in the line of duty, but right from the start, we see he clearly instilled a strong sense of right and wrong in his daughter.

In their new home town, the big news is the discovery of a key belonging to 19th-century business tycoon Walter Smith, which could hold the… ah, key to hidden treasure. The artifact is stolen from a local museum, and Kid suspects local bully Braden (Reyes) and his gang are responsible. With the help of new pal Angie Little Sky (Quiroz) and the local sheriff (Reyes), she sets out to solve the mystery and earn the reward money her Mom very much needs. However, there was apparently a curse placed on Smith by a medicine man of the local Ojibwa Indian tribe, potentially making the quest all the more perilous.

At 63 minutes, including credits, this is barely a feature film, yet I’m fine with that: more movies should err on the side of brevity, I feel. This plays to the audience’s benefit, since there’s not a lot of slack or downtime here, with the plot continually moving forward. It is, of necessity, fairly simplistic, yet it rarely feels like it’s talking down to the viewer, with enough mature elements to avoid playing as purely a kid-flick. That said, it plays it all super-safe, and will offer no surprises if you are above the age of Kid. Any adults really don’t need to pay attention here, because the plot unfolds right down the line as you’d expect, all the way to Braden learning the error of his ways.

The big plus, which stops it from falling into saccharine excess, is Bair, who delivers a performance which has just the right amount of earnestness. She’s a thoroughly admirable role-model for any young girl: prepared to stand up for what’s right, yet (and this is rarer than you’d imagine) respectful to her elders, with no teen brattiness to be found. despite the rather unflattering sleeve! The rest of the performances are mostly functional rather than memorable, though neither do they stand out in a negative way. The film has some decent BMX/truck stunts, even if the digital effects accompanying the “curse” did not leave me whelmed. All told, I did not hate this, and as family entertainment, you could do considerably worse. It certainly gets the nod over something like Barbie Spy Squad.

Dir: Jesse Mast
Star: Mary Bair, Atquetzali Quiroz, Bruce Bohne, Lorenzo Reyes

Agent Girls


“Badly broken China”

I have seen bad movies before. I have seen Chinese movies before. But I have never before seen such a bad Chinese movie. Really, their action films are usually at least somewhat competent: even the dreadful work of the notorious Godfrey Ho usually had something of… well, interest, if not perhaps quality to offer. This, however? Utterly appalling, with close to no redeeming features. One anecdote should give you some idea of what I mean. When our daughter was 12, she and her little friend borrowed the camcorder and made a 10-minute action movie, mostly taking place in the garage. I am 100% serious when I say it had significantly better fight choreography than this, and the other elements which go into the film are of little if any higher standard.

The heroines are a group who have apparently just graduated from college. Though before we get to that, there’s a prologue involving a (stock footage) war between China and Vietnam, which somehow led to the establishment of “an International Evil Eye Organization”. One of the members was Xiao Lishan, who went off and did AIDS research. Pause for the first of many poorly-conceived scenes, of the girls wondering what to do with their lives, which is neither interesting nor informative. This is mercifully interrupted by Xiao Fei (Ling) getting a phone-call from Mom, telling Fei her father has committed suicide. It won’t be long before viewers will be considering similar action, as a means of escape from this viewing experience.

Fei can’t believe he’d take his own life, and the suspicious actions of a delivery driver increase her doubts. So after the police close the case, she and her group of gal pals begin their own investigation, seeking the culprits and to make them pay. This will eventually take them back to Hanoi – I’m assuming that’s the “H city” referred to. Though the budget extends to nothing more jet-setting than a random shot of a plane taking off, without even any of the usual “exterior shots” used in low-budget cinema to establish an exotic location. This is just one of the many technical flaws, also apparent in quite terrible audio work, ranging from the tinny and echoey, to the basically inaudible. Even though this was subtitled, it remained an annoyance.

But this is positively Oscar-calibre compared to the action. It builds to an assault in search of a USB drive, where they are supposedly going up against “commandos”. All I can say is, the Chinese Army is vastly over-rated, though I was amused by the way they wear ski-masks for no apparent reasons. It is painfully clear nobody here has had any kind of martial arts training at all, or is remotely familiar with the business end of a firearm. Combine this with the woeful ineptness present in almost every other level, from the writing through the performances to the direction, and you’ve got something that is a couple of credible drone shots away from being a contender for the worst action heroine film of all time.

Dir: Xiao Ju-Shi
Star: Ling Yu, Zhang Mu-Qing, Pang Cheng-Yu, Maidina Paluk

Voevoda

★★½
“Never mind the Bulgars”

Well, at the very least, we get to cross another country off the map, in the Action Heroine Atlas. This comes from Bulgaria, and seems to have been a labour of love for Sophia, who co-wrote, directed, produced and starred in it (her daughter plays the younger version of the lead). You don’t see that often, especially in our chosen field. Yet I suspect it could end up having caused more problems than it solves. I’ve often found that films where one person wears so many hats, end up being too “close” to be entirely successful. By which I mean, the maker is so involved they can’t see the flaws, when another pair of eyes might have been able to identify and correct these issues.

I believe this is based on a historical figure. Though I say this based almost entirely on an IMDb review which says, “Rumena was a real person and we know what happened to her.” Well, perhaps Bulgarians do. I have no clue, and was unable to find much out on the Internet: even the film’s website was vague on details. I am also largely ignorant – and, I freely admit, this is a me problem – about Bulgarian history. It seems that at the time this was set in the 19th century, the country was occupied by the Ottoman Empire. That’s about all I’ve got, and can’t say I learned much more from the movie.

The heroine is Roumena (Sophia), who is targeted by the Ottoman occupiers, and subsequently heads off into the mountains and woods, to become the titular leader of a group of bandits and rebels. From there, she wages a guerilla war on the Ottomans. For instance, after they kidnap a young village woman, she and the rest of her cheta kidnap the two sons of the commanding officer, in order to exchange them. This insurgency eventually leads to the Ottomans sending a whole mass of troops after her. Yet Roumena’s example has also helped foster a desire for independence in the locals – albeit at the cost of effectively having to abandon her young son, so that he can have a safe, and somewhat normal childhood.

It’s all quite impenetrable, with limited dialogue and largely non-professional actors. While this likely does enhance the realism, it feels like it comes at the cost of genuine drama. The saving grace is Sophia, who cuts a interesting figure as Roumena: all fierce and unwilling to compromise in any aspect of her life. She wins leadership of the cheta by, literally, wrestling for the position, and takes no shit from anyone. Yet at 126 minutes long, it feels too much of a slog through the wilderness, with a permanently surly supporting cast who are largely distinguishable from each other, only by their facial hair. If you can imagine a dour version of the Robin Hood legend, in which Robin gets betrayed by his merry men, then you’ll be along the right lines.

Dir: Zornitsa Sophia
Star: Zornitsa Sophia, Valeri Yordanov, Goran Gunchev, Dimitar Trokanov

Asura Girl

★★★
“There will be Blood

This is part of the Blood universe, which previously gave us anime series Blood +: Episodes 1-25 and Blood: The Last Vampire in both animated and live-action versions. That’s small beer compared to the Blood-C segment, which began as a 12-episode anime show, subsequently becoming two manga series, a novelization, a stage play, and three live-action movies. The other two, set in the current day and entitled Blood Club Dolls 1+2, aren’t of interest here despite their title (and aren’t very good), since at least the first only includes a brief cameo by Saya, the heroine of the series. Her role here is considerably more substantial, and it’s basically a better production all round. Not least because most of it works reasonably well with no prior knowledge.

It takes place not long before the outbreak of World War II, in a small rural village, plagued by a series of mysterious deaths. Brutal military policeman Amakatsu (Furuta) is charged with investigating, blaming local communist sympathizers. However, two elements suggest otherwise. Firstly, the arrival of Saya Kisaragi, member of a vampiric race called the ‘Elder Bairns’, who hunts her own kind. Then there is the contraction of a mysterious blood-based disease of Ran (Aono), the sister to village resident Ren (Matsumara). He encounters Saya when she meets a police squad, and tries to rescue her. If you’ve seen any of the entries linked above, you’ll know that she isn’t a character exactly in need of rescuing.

Wisely, the film doesn’t stretch out the “who” aspect of the mystery, since it’s not exactly hard to guess. The “why” does turn out to be a bit more unexpected, and at the end, there are a few moments where it does feel like some familiarity with the world in which it works would be helpful. Generally though, it’s fine as a standalone piece. I would have liked to have seen more of Sana in action: after taking on the police, she takes a back seat to Ran and the struggles of the village to convince Amakatsu they’re not better off dead than red. However, it certainly qualifies for the site, with some solid sword-fights at the end, which make up for in very enthusiastic, crunchy sound design, what they may lack in explicit gore and impalement.

Outside of Sana, it is a bit bland in terms of characters. Ran doesn’t make much of an impression and, until the final third, neither does his sister. There were points where this reminded me of a Hammer film, albeit one obviously set in a different time and place, with the concept of a small village plagued by a terrible evil. Twins of Evil might be the closest, as it also had a strong authoritarian figure (played by Peter Cushing), who was correct about the presence of evil – just terribly wrong in regard to its source. Amakatsu doesn’t have anything like the same arc, though this remains a considerable improvement, in most ways, over the contemporary live-action film.

Dir: Shutaro Oku
Star: Ryūnosuke Matsumura. Kanon Miyahara, Kaede Aono. Arata Furuta 

Jeannette: The Childhood of Joan of Arc

★★½
“Joan of Arc: The Musical”

I initially intended to review this and its sequel, Jeanme, by Dumont as one entity, for a couple of reasons. They really only work as a single item. This confused the hell out me, because the second film turned up on a streaming service by itself. Five minutes in, I was so confused, I started searching the Internet, only to find I had, in effect, joined a movie already two hours in progress. Also, I suspected I would be hard-pushed to deliver 500 words on each of these. I’m not saying they’re slow-paced, but you’d overtake them riding a glacier. The first 90 minutes is basically Jeannete (Prudhomme when young, Voisin when older) standing around sand-dunes, looking after her sheep, with the occasional religious debate or vision. Three years pass here, in the blink of a caption.

Yet, here we are, since there are still topics to discuss. For example, I forgot to mention: it’s a musical. Yep, full-on songs and everything. Though not exactly contemporary to the 15th century. There’s rap. There’s rock. There’s a head-banging pair of nuns, who often speak their lines together, like a clerical version of the Mothra Twins. Now, I guess this kind of thing can work. Hamilton was very popular, though let the record show, I couldn’t sit through it. This is… Well, I can’t say it wasn’t interesting to watch. Though the overlap between “interesting to watch” and “never want to see again” has rarely been so resoundingly demonstrated. It’s apparently an adaptation of a play, The Mystery of the Charity of Joan of Arc, written in 1910. No clue if that had songs or not.

I’m really not sure what the intent here was. From what I’ve read, it seems to have been trying to recapture the spirit of naivety found in medieval passion plays, using non-professional actors. Sometimes this works, sometimes it doesn’t: the scenes featuring rapper Durand Lassois as Jeanne’s uncle are excruciating. Yet there are moments where, Voisin in particular, captures the serious intensity necessary. Do they justify the endeavour as a whole? I’m far less certain. Though matters were not helped by the distribution company going with white, unaliased subtitles that are often entirely illegible, given the variety of white backgrounds: sand, nuns’ habits, sheep, etc. Perhaps that simply was intended to add to the mystery of it all.

Even as an eight-year-old, this Jeanne seems deeply concerned about the Hundred Years’ War against England, which has been going on for far longer than she has been alive. But when three saints (at least somewhat restrained in their dance moves) show up, she doesn’t exactly leap into action. That’s when we get the three year caption mentioned above, and even further visions have her reluctant to leave her family. In the end, she bids them farewell, makes arrangements for her sheep, and hops on a horse to head off with her uncle in the direction of Orleans, and the second movie. That’s two hours of my life I’ll never get back. Though I didn’t exactly have other plans…

Dir: Bruno Dumont
Star: Lise Leplat Prudhomme, Jeanne Voisin

Betsy

★★
“Dog People”

On her way home one night, Betsy (Ryan) is attacked by a mystery assailant and badly injured. While she recovers, she’s traumatized by the events, with nightmares that even her attendance at a support group can’t help. She is also increasingly plagued by violent outbursts against her supportive but increasingly concerned roommate Kayte (Osborne), and physical changes. If you are at all familiar with horror movies, you’ll know the symptoms: Betsy’s attacker was a werewolf, and she’s now in the process of becoming one. This throws a spanner in her growing relationship with Sam (Miller), made worse because he’s a policeman, investigating the recent spate of “animal attack” murders around town.

There’s seems to be a strong inspiration from Paul Schrader’s remake of Cat People here, not least in that it’s sexual activity which seems to bring out the beast in Betsy, rather than the phase of the moon. Her first transformation occurs after a sexual assault, and another after a session of love-making with Sam. It’s never quite clear whether she needs, as in Cat People, to kill in order to regain her human form: there’s no-one here who can tell her the rules by which she is now operating. Indeed, nor is it clear what happened to her original attacker, who seems to infect her, then leaves the film entirely. But this will suffer in any comparison with Cat People. With all respect to Ryan, she’s no Nastassja Kinski, and its transformations are far superior. Sure, that had a much bigger budget: it also predates this by 35 years.

This isn’t entirely without merit, though it is definitely in the slow-burn category – we’re about half-way through before the heroine’s feral instincts properly kick in. In fact, the best thing about this might be the scene tucked away in the (lengthy – after all, there are 28 producers of one kind or another to thank!) closing credits, in which we discover that Betsy is no longer alone. I definitely wanted to see where it might have gone from there. Trimming minutes from her early group therapy sessions, etc. would have offered scope to develop that, and helped this feel more like its own beast, if you see what I mean.

However, I’ve definitely seen far worse low-budget horror. Director Burkett also wrote and edited this, and seems to know where to point the camera and how to capture audible sound. These are skills not to be pooh-poohed in the field, and it’s also to his credit that the film usually is aware of its limits, and doesn’t over-stretch itself. An interesting twist is using a different actress to play Betsy, post-transformation. perhaps making this also influenced by another horror classic, Dr. Jekyll. While the flaws here are too hard to ignore, there are quite a few positives as well, and I’m interested in seeing what Burkett could do with a larger budget, and perhaps a more original idea.

Dir: Shawn Burkett
Star: Erin R. Ryan, Josh Miller, Marylee Osborne, Justin Beahm