Tag: assassin

The Long Kiss Goodnight – 25 years on

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★★★
“We have a mommy who slays the monsters for her daughter – but the monsters are real.” — Shane Black“

As mentioned in my review of Kate, I was startled to discover I had never reviewed this, since it is one of the most well-known entries in the action heroine genre of its time. Since its time was almost exactly 25 years ago  – the movie was released on October 11, 1996 – now seems as good a point as any to rectify the omission. It was the second collaboration in our field between Renny Harlin and then-wife Geena Davis. The first was Cutthroat Island, a film whose troubled production and spectacular failure we have previously covered. But that did not dissuade either Harlin or studio New Line Pictures from trying again, albeit without the troublesome period setting and sea-going. As a result, the budget here was $65 million, a third lower than Cutthroat.

Some aspects were still not exactly cheap. Writer Shane Black was, at the time, a ‘rock star” screenplay author, having written Lethal Weapon – though subsequent efforts The Last Boy Scout and The Last Action Hero had not lived up to commercial expectations. Still, the script for this provoked a bidding war between New Line, Warner Brothers and Columbia Studios, eventually costing the first-named $4 million in July 1994, including a $500K producer’s fee for Black. That was a new record for a spec script, one which would last more than a decade, breaking the previous high of $3 million, paid to Joe Eszterhas for Basic Instinct. This was before filming on Cutthroat Island had even started, so production of Goodnight was put on the back-burner. Consequently, shooting did not begin until 18 months after the script was purchased.

It took place from January-May 1996 in Ontario, Canada, and the conditions posed many issues for the cast and crew. According to Harlin, “The coldest night was when we were working on the bridge in the end sequence. It was a night when the wind was blowing 70 miles an hour and it was minus 98 degrees with the wind chill.” Though it was probably Davis, who had to pretend she was unconscious and lie on the ground, who experienced the worst of it. Harlin had nothing but praise for her: “Geena’s particularly tough. She’s very athletic and very determined. So, if there’s anything she feels that she can’t do, she’ll put all her energies into making sure that she can learn it, and by the time it is needed, she can do it.”

Generally, however, production went smoothly – save for a historic location burning down.  But if you read Black’s February 1995 script, you can see the violence has been significantly toned down by the time it reaches the screen. For example, this line depicting a character, shot in the head in a diner: “Mr. Shotgun dies on his feet. Outgoing matter. Flung. Spattered on the grill where it sizzles along with burnt hamburger.” Ick. A test screening also triggered a significant change. Jackson’s character, private eye Mitch Henessey, was originally intended to die, but the audience reaction was so negative, that Harlin went back and shot additional footage. “That’s right! You can’t kill me, motherfuckers!” now crows Henessey, as he comes back from the dead.

While not the disaster at the box-office which was Cutthroat Island, it wasn’t a great success. In its opening weekend, it came in at #3, well back of fellow new release The Ghost and the Darkness, and even behind The First Wives’ Club, in its fourth week out. By the end of its run, it had taken $33.4 million, though did better overseas, with $56 million. Still, that $89.4 million was not much more than the production budget and after promotion and other costs, profits will have been slim to non-existent. Was it a hang-over from Cutthroat? Poor marketing? Or simply having an action heroine? Black reckons “It might have made more money” with a male lead. That all said, how does it stand up, a quarter-century later?

Truth be told, I’ve seen this several times over the years: it always feels I should like it more than I do, and I come away feeling a little disappointed. Especially now, it is a product of its time, and certainly, pales in comparison to not dissimilar spy movies since, such as Salt or Atomic Blonde. The pacing feels particularly leisurely, with it being close to an hour before Samantha Caine (Davis) gets fully in touch with her inner assassin, “Charly” Baltimore. Charly suffered amnesia after a fall on a mission eight years previously, and had become happy housewife Samantha, complete with boyfriend and adorable little moppet. But a blow to the head reawakens Charley – much to the concern of a number of people, not least of whom are her former employers, to whom she could now become an embarrassment.

Firstly, what is it with Black and hyperviolent Christmas film? Like Die Hard, and much of his output, this takes place over the festive season because… I guess it’s a counterpoint to that hyperviolence. That aside, this is mostly the journey of Charly to rediscover her past, but the terrorist mission she was targeted with disrupting, is about to happen in a couple of days – what are the odds? – as a CIA false-flag operation, under Assistant Director Leland Perkins (Malahide). As leverage against her, Perkins’s minion (Bierko) kidnaps the moppet. Big mistake. Charly storms in and rescues her daughter, before having to stop the planned attack. I must say, the moppet is remarkably resilient, surviving being thrown through a hole in the wall of her house, and a hellacious tanker crash, with barely a scratch.

It might have been more fun to have sustained the housewife/spy duality for longer e.g. having Charly turn up at the PTA, or deal with the thousand and one microaggressions of everyday suburban life. Instead, we get rather too many scenes of her driving round with Henessey. These are kinda fun – there’s an entire film to be made about the shady PI, with his sideline in blackmail – yet in a movie that’s two hours long, feel like needless padding. The bad guys are basically stupid, wasting any number of opportunities to take care of the problem i.e. Charley, and go about their plot in a way that… well, let’s be charitable and say, maybe it made sense in the mid-nineties. That is not the only aspect to have dated poorly. The whole “false flag” thing now has the distinct scent of conspiracy nut to it, since we’ve heard this claimed for virtually every attack since 9/11.

It’s certainly not all bad though. Davis is great on both sides of her split personality, eventually merging them into a whole which feels comfortable. There’s no denying her derring-do, and on several occasions, Harlin shoots things so you feel certain it’s a stunt double assembling a gun, or ice-skating, only to pan up and show – nope, it was Geena. The final explosion at Niagara Falls is as spectacular a giant fireball as you could hope to see, and the action scenes in general are top-notch stuff, from a time before you assumed CGI was always involved. However, I think I preferred Cutthroat, not least due to its more consistent tone. Black always wants to seem both hard-edged and jokey; he doesn’t get it right here, leaving each side pointing a finger at the other, in accusatory fashion.

Both Jackson and Harlin speak fondly of the film. Jackson calls Long Kiss the favorite of his own films to watch, and Harlin agrees. Despite the initially underwhelming return, its cult status has helped to feed discussion of a sequel over the years, though Davis – long divorced from Harlin – would not be involved. The director said it would be about Jackson’s character crossing paths with an adult version of Davis’s daughter. Harlin now lives in China, where the film is apparently well-regarded and said that “Several people, producers and financiers, here in China have talked to me about doing either a Chinese remake or doing an English-language sequel.” As of June 2021, he still wants to make a second part.

Will it ever happen? Only time will tell, though given how long since the original movie, it seems doubtful. But we’ll always have that, and the moderate yet violent delights of Geena Davis as a home-maker turned lethal operative.

Dir: Renny Harlin
Star: Geena Davis, Samuel L. Jackson, Patrick Malahide, Craig Bierko

Kate

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★★★
“Dying to kill you.”

The action heroine plotline of a woman defending a child – sometimes her own, but more often an acquired kid – is a common one. The “Mama Bear”, as TV Tropes called it, was most famously used in Aliens, but shows up with some regularity in our genre. See also Ultraviolet, Furie and The Long Kiss Goodnight (have I really never reviewed that?), while Gunpowder Milkshake was the most recent example. Of course, it’s not just heroines to whom it can apply; indeed there’s another page on TV Tropes called “Badass and Child“, covering the likes of Leon: The Professional. But the pairing of an action heroine with a (usually female) child has particular resonances, that perhaps merit general discussion, before we get into the specifics of Kate.

Firstly, it offers an easy justification for any and all subsequent violence. In Western society, women are not supposed to be aggressive. They are seen as the caring, nurturing gender, but protecting their offspring is one of the few times when they are “allowed” to engage their inner monsters. Again, it’s not limited to the female sex (think Taken), but male characters tend to have a wider range of potential motivations e.g. patriotism, personal power, so you don’t see paternal protection as often. [And that’s quite enough P’s.] In most cases – Ripley being an exception – the mother figure is already something of a bad-ass, so has that “very particular set of skills” necessary. It’s just the specific direction of her targets which is a result of the threat to her offspring. 

There is also, quite often, some kind of emotional resonance, in the cases where the child is not biologically related [when that is the case, you don’t typically need or get any more explanation, blood being thicker than water]. Maybe the kid acts as a surrogate, a replacement for one previously lost (Alien), or the heroine could never have. Or if a girl, the protagonist can perhaps see a younger version of herself. The other common theme is the use of the child as a key, to unlock the adult. Often, the latter has lost her humanity, typically through harsh circumstances, becoming largely a lone figure, with her emotions suppressed. The “childlike innocence” of the young person, to use a cliché, can be used as a psychological crowbar, pricing open the hard shell of the grown-up, allowing them to reconnect with their humanity. The more emotionally-driven immaturity also stands in contrast to the adult’s stoicism, often to an extreme degree. 

Which brings us to Kate, since the film demonstrates most of the above, to a certain degree. It is, to some extent, an unfortunate victim of its own timing. Probably safe to say, I would have enjoyed this more, had it not come out almost immediately on the heels of both Gunpowder Milkshake and The Protégé – films with which it has rather too much in common. All three movies are about female assassins, who find themselves at a crossroads in their professional and personal lives. In Kate and Milkshake, the protagonists find themselves, more or less unwillingly, in charge of a young girl. In Kate and The Protégé, they operate under the guidance of an older, male veteran killer, who trained them since childhood, but may or may not have their best interests at heart. Throw in to this, the “investigating your own murder” plot-line from classic film noir D.O.A., and you’ll understand why this seemed over familiar. 

It begins in Osaka, where Kate (Winstead) takes out a yakuza boss, despite qualms over the presence of his daughter. She tells her mentor, Varrick (Harrelson), she will do one last mission before she retires – yeah, that cliché. But before it happens, she’s poisoned with radioactive polonium, which will kill her in a few hours. Intent on extracting vengeance, she finds it was apparently ordered by Kijima, brother of her previous victim. To try and lure him out, Kate abduct his niece, Ani (Martineau), the girl who was there when Kate killed her father. But Ani becomes a target as well, due to a power struggle within the criminal syndicate, and Kate her unwilling protector. This makes the whole “I killed your father, actually” thing more than a bit awkward, especially as Kate needs Anu’s help if she’s to discover the truth about her own assassination. For that is even more disturbing than she expects.

As you can probably tell, there’s nothing new in the story. This doesn’t mean it’s devoid of merit, for the execution is solid.  Nicolas-Troyan, previously here for The Huntsman: Winter’s War, brings a perpetual neon sheen to Japanese urban life, leaving half the film feeling like cut scenes from Blade Runner. While lovely to look at, this is very much a foreigner’s view of Japan, which makes Kate’s familiarity with the culture a bit jarring; she speaks Japanese, and is obsessed with ‘Boom Boom Lemon’, a (fictional) local soft-drink. The heroine could have done with more of this kind of humanizing quirk; for much of the movie, she seems more like a machine for revenge, rather than a woman clinging to her last hours of life, as the perfectly-machined tool of her body increasingly betrays its owner.

The other positive is the action, which is well-handled, and occasionally savage to an almost extreme degree. The peak is likely an early battle between Kate and a large number of gang members, culminating in Kate stabbing an opponent up under the chin, the blade coming out through his nose. I have not seen that before. However, the keyword there is “early”. The film probably needs a better sense of escalation, and the lack here stands in contrast to the likes of the John Wick franchise. I can’t say I was ever bored here. However, I didn’t feel there was enough to make it stand out from the (recently very sizable) crowd. I suspect this will likely vanish into the crowd of Netflix originals, and quickly be forgotten.

Dir: Cedric Nicolas-Troyan
Star: Mary Elizabeth Winstead, Miku Martineau, Woody Harrelson, Tadanobu Asano

The Protégé

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★★★
“Q’s the boss?”

It’s nice to see Maggie Q get back into the action genre again. It’s where she achieved renown – most obviously in the second Nikita TV series, but we were already aware of her, thanks to Q’s work in Hong Kong, such as Naked Weapon [let’s just not talk about Model From Hell…]. Of late though, she has worked mostly in other fields; while still genre-friendly, such as Death of Me or Fantasy Island, they’re just not our genre. So, when I heard she was playing an assassin, out for revenge after someone kills her mentor (a role originally given to Gong Li), this immediately got moved to the head of the list, since it seemed like a throwback to why we love her.

While I wanted to really like this, I can only say it’s… okay. This is mostly due to a serious mistep in the second half of the film. I can’t talk about it specifically, for spoiler reasons. But it effectively renders everything which had happened up to that point as irrelevant, and sidelines Q’s character in what had been, to that point, her story. The motivation for the character behaving the way they did seems murky at best. I trust this is all adequately vague. Anyway. Q plays Anna, a Vietnamese orphan rescued during a mission by hitman Moody Dutton, and brought up as his daughter and apprentice. Thirty years later, they have formed a close-knit pairing, until Moody is killed after making inquiries into a long-disappeared person.

Anna vows to find and punish whoever is responsible, and soon finds herself under attack as a result, after persisting despite being warned by the mysterious Michael Rembrandt (Keaton). Their relationship subsequently develops, and these events put Rembrandt’s loyalties under pressure. Unfortunately, this is where the script implodes, in part due to the lightly outlined reason above. But it’s also due to other missteps like an extended flashback to Anna’s time in Vietnam, which do not add anything of significance, and instead divert proceedings, just when things should be accelerating towards a grandstand finale – one that never happens.

If I have major qualms about Richard Wenk’s script, I’ve no real problem with Campbell’s direction. The veteran has a good pedigree, including one of the best Bonds ever in Goldeneye and the two recent Zorro film, and knows where to point a camera. Q doesn’t seem to have lost much speed either, though there is a terseness to some of the killings here. It’s not inappropriate – she’s a professional, after all – but I’d have liked the fights to go longer. As is, the first such scene, where she takes out a mob boss and his bodyguards in about ten seconds, is a good indicator of what to expect. Still, in this area it’s solid stuff, with some moments of intense hyper-violence, such as an opponent going face-first through a sink. That helps lift this to the point where it’s still worthwhile. Yet I can’t help feeling it’s just not as good as it should have been.

Dir: Martin Campbell
Star: Maggie Q, Samuel L. Jackson, Michael Keaton, David Rintoul

Gunpowder Milkshake

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★★★★
“Jane Wick.”

Yeah, it’s kinda like that. As in John Wick, the hero(ine) is an assassin for hire, in a world where there exists a significant infrastructure of support for hitmen and hitwomen. After they fall foul of the wrong people, our hero(ine) becomes the target, but has more than enough skills to be able to fend for themselves, and takes the fight to their aggressors. Oh, yeah, and it also borrows significantly from Leon: The Professional, in that the assassin becomes the protector of a young girl. Hmm. But this leverages those two with very large injections of style. Not quite to the level of Sucker Punch, but heading that way. Thiscand enough original ideas, made it work for me, despite the familiar elements. 

It has been interesting to read the reviews, which seem sharply divisive. Critics appear either to like it or hate it, with not much “It was alright.” I think this is one of those films where you need to buy into the approach as much as the concept. For example, it seems to take place in a world inhabited solely by people in the film. There are few if any bystanders. The location is deliberately vague (it was filmed in Berlin), with a deliberate attention paid to the colour palette used. According to the director, for example, yellow represents death – such as the large, yellow duffel-bag with “I ♥ Kittens” on the side, in which the protagonist totes her weapons. If you’re not down with this approach, I can see how this could annoy rather than amuse.

Said protagonist is Sam (Gillan), a killer with abandonment issues ever since her mom (Lena Headey) walked out on her, fifteen years earlier. Sam is tasked by her employer, Nathan (Giamatti), with recovering a haul of stolen cash. But she finds the thief was coerced into action, after his eight-year-old daughter (“8¾!”, as we are reminded on several occasions), Emily, was kidnapped. Likely reminded of her younger self, Sam takes custody of Emily, though the cash is destroyed in the process. This, and a previous job where she killed the son of a very important person, makes her persona non grata, and the hunter becomes the hunted.

Fortunately, she’s not without allies. In particular, there are the Librarians, three women who run the armoury available to all assassins [like the Sommelier in John Wick]. This trio, played by Yeoh, Angela Bassett and Carla Gugino, have a lot of previous history with Sam and her mother, and opt to take her side in the impendng war. Of course – and the development is so obvious, it doesn’t count as a spoiler – Mum also returns. The 5½ women (counting Emily as the fraction), have to stand their ground, first at the library, then in a final battle at the diner, the neutral ground (coughContinentalcough) where Sam’s mother left her, all those years ago. 

The action is good, rather than great. It is, at least, not over-edited and is definitely helped by Papushado’s dedication to style – it all looks striking, which makes it (literally) punch above its weight. Nowhere is this clearer than an amazing slow-motion pan down the length of the diner towards the end, which is the kind of shot you’ll want to rewatch several times, in order to see everything that’s going on. It does feel as if Yeoh was somewhat underused, though I should probably give up expecting anything Crouching Tiger-like these days. That was over twenty years ago, and Yeoh turns 59 in less than a week. That said, she still holds her own with the less mature actresses admirably – says the man, younger than her, who needs a stunt double to change the batteries in the ceiling smoke detector.

Despite the shot mentioned above, the fight in the library is definitely the film’s highlight and in terms of pacing feels like it should have been the climax. With the women defending their turf, it has the feel of an Alamo-like final stand. Instead, things potter on for a further 20 minutes thereafter, with the makers feeling like they have chosen to coast over the finish line, rather than engaging in a final sprint. I felt another area of criticism was the use of music, which often seemed to reach Baby Driver levels of over-emphasis. I once described that film as “like I was trapped inside Edgar Wright’s iPod, while he hummed along to his own mix-tape,” and if this isn’t quite as bad, there’s even less reason for the songs here. They’re a grab-bag that don’t offer a sense of time or place. I blame Quentin Tarantino.

It is notable that the film is split firmly along gender lines. with every one of the protagonists being women, and every one of the antagonists being men. However, it’s fortunate that seem largely to be about the extent of the messaging, and nobody particularly pays attention to this. Everyone is kept quite busy trying to kill each other. It’s also a bit less of an ensemble piece than I expected from the trailer. Especially in the first half, it’s Sam vs. the World, with the Librarians introduced, and then shuffled off to one side until Sam is ultimately forced to turn to them for help. That’s not particularly a criticism. I like Gillan, who was born about 25 miles from where I was, so is likely the nearest I have to a local action heroine. She can carry a film perfectly well, even if I’d rather have heard her natural Scots accent.

Comparing this to Black Widow from a few weeks ago, both films got four stars, but only Milkshake merited our seal of approval. I think it’s because the latter’s strong sense of visual style does give a rewatchability that the relative pedestrian approach of Widow didn’t achieve. You’ll see things here which you have likely never seen before, and while that originality definitely does not apply to all the plot elements, it does at least have the grace to take those things from some very, very good movies.

Dir: Navot Papushado
Star: Karen Gillian, Chloe Coleman, Paul Giamatti, Michelle Yeoh

Gunpowder Milkshake (2021)
Gunpowder Milkshake (2021)
Gunpowder Milkshake (2021)
Gunpowder Milkshake (2021)
Gunpowder Milkshake (2021)
Gunpowder Milkshake (2021)
Gunpowder Milkshake (2021)
Gunpowder Milkshake (2021)
Gunpowder Milkshake (2021)
Gunpowder Milkshake (2021)
Gunpowder Milkshake (2021)
Gunpowder Milkshake (2021)
Gunpowder Milkshake (2021)
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Gunpowder Milkshake (2021)
Gunpowder Milkshake (2021)
Gunpowder Milkshake (2021)

Chameleon Assassin, by B.R. Kingsolver

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

This takes place in a mildly post-apocalyptic version of Toronto. Climate change and other global issues have helped trigger a sharp increase in mutations among newborn children. Some are positive; others… not so much. The social upheaval also occurring around this time has led to a sharp divide between the haves and the have-nots, with the former able to enjoy considerably more than basic essentials such as clean air and water. The latter struggle to afford these necessities, creating a vicious cycle of deprivation. Libby Nelson rides the razor’s edge between the two worlds. While a mutant herself, she has been blessed with abilities rather than cursed with ailments; she can change her appearance and also disrupt electrical currents.

These two talents have brought her a career as a hired assassin, thief and investigator, working on behalf of various commercial or business interests, as corporations have replaced governments. Her latest commission is working for the local Chamber of Commerce – not quite the charitable group they currently are! – to look into “luvdaze”, a new drug which has recently started to flood the market, both locally and across the continent. They want to find out who is behind its production and distribution. However, the deeper Libby digs, the more dangerous her mission becomes, as she approaches the murky ares where organized crime and corporate malfeasance cross paths, with both groups very intent on playing for keeps, and taking no prisoners.

It all feels rather contrived, right from giving the heroine not one but two positive mutations, as well as a remarkable array of skills, devoted friends and physical beauty. She is even literally kind to orphans, a revelation which you’ll understand may have provoked a derisive snort. There’s heroic, and then there’s positively beatific, y’know. On the other hand, given her ability to look like absolutely anyone, it seems oddly limiting, or shows a lack of imagination, that’s she’s working as a freelance security consultant. Five minutes thought about how to use the skill, and I imagine most people would easily be able to come up with more profitable – or, indeed, more interesting – ideas.

I can’t say this is badly-written. It is, however, remarkably “meh.” There’s no any particular progression or escalation, which would potentially lead to a building sense of excitement. Things happen, but they aren’t described in a particularly exciting way on their own, and nor do they combine in a way which is greater than the sum of their parts. I only finished reading the book a couple of days ago, and it has already all but vanished from my mind. For the purposes of this review, I had to look up basic information like the name of the heroine or the city in which it took place, such was the lack of impact. Like the creature in its title, this book has faded quietly into the background, and will soon be entirely forgotten.

Author: B.R. Kingsolver
Publisher: CreateSpace, available through Amazon, both as a paperback and an e-book
1 of 5 in the Chameleon Assassin series.

Assassin’s Target

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★★
“Tolerable only in small doses.”

There’s an interesting tweak to the situation here. While it is the usual “hitwoman agrees to go on one last mission” plotline, Rosa (Gala) is an assassin who has adopted poison as her weapon of choice. I think it’s the first time I’ve seen this, and it’s interesting because women are, in reality, considerably more likely to kill in that way [Per the Washington Post, “Women are seven times as likely as men to choose poison as their murder weapon”] Her choice dates back to Rosa’s childhood, when she killed her abusive father and complicit mother with belladonna berries from their own garden, and has gone on to choose this as a career, working for… Well, it’s a bit vague. Some kind of British intelligence group, I think, with her boss being Henry Crowford  (Giblin).

Rosa’s latest mission takes her to Barcelona, where someone recently hijacked all the TV channels, to broadcast a message of peace and love. Needless to say, the authorities aren’t having that, so send Rosa – who is keen to retire – to track down and eliminate this threat to the established order. Helping her is Will Gray (Vinnicombe), a former army intelligence officer turned fixer. But as Rosa tries to get closer to the pirate of the high frequencies, things get considerably murkier, as it appears that he is another spook, supposedly killed in action. Meanwhile, Crowford’s boss (Charles) is getting increasingly antsy about her lack of progress, and sends another operative after her, to tie up the loose end she increasingly appears to represent.

Retitled from The Vibe, for entirely understandable commercial reasons, this is also known as – and you’ll be forgiven a derisive snort at this – Impossible Mission. But I’m going by the title under which I saw the movie on Amazon Prime. It starts promisingly enough, and does a good job of capturing the complex and paranoid worlds of both intelligence activities and conspiracy theorists, in which no-one can be trusted. However, it has no clue what to do with its concepts, and gets increasingly bogged down in far too much chit-chat. Not helping matters here, is the number of people, led by Gala, who are clearly not speaking their mother tongue, e.g. pronouncing “arsenic” as “ar-SEN-ic”.

Rosa does very little in the way of spycraft, and doesn’t put her toxic talents to any use in pursuit of her target. Certainly, the cover is entirely inaccurate, since I don’t recall her even picking up a gun. By the end, writer-director Gambino has painted himself into such a corner, there’s apparently no way to escape, and the film simply ends, without any of the major topics, least of all Rosa’s status, achieving resolution. I did keep watching, though must confess this was partly due to the over-enthusiastic closed captioning (which I turned on, since I was treadmilling at the time, and hence wheezing loudly). It describes the soundtrack in terms including “vexed music”, “maleficent music” and, my personal favourite, “dreadful music”. That this was the most consistent source of entertainment throughout, tells you everything you need to know.

Dir: Gilles Gambino
Star: Jimena Gala, Ben Vinnicombe, James Giblin, Leslie Charles
a.k.a. The Vibe

The Dublin Hit, by J.E. Higgins

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

What’s most unusual about this book is its heroine. For many years, Sauwa Catcher operated as a killer for the racist South African government during the apartheid years, hunting down their enemies at home at abroad, and gaining the justifiable nickname ‘Angel of Death’ as a result. Yeah. This is not exactly the kind of person with whom you should expect to sympathize. Indeed, generally someone like this would be the villain of the piece, yet Higgins manages to make it work, far better than you would expect.

This takes place not long after the fall of that regime in the nineties, when South Africa set up a “Truth and Reconciliation Commission”, to come to terms with the crimes previously committed. Catcher had been operating in the UK, and with her support network gone, accepts a commission from a Northern Irish paramilitary group, the Ulster Volunteer Force. In exchange for funding Sauwa’s vanishing off the grid, they want her to assassinate a leading Republic of Ireland police officer, who has been feeding intel to the UVF’s mortal enemies, the IRA. But doing so will bring down not just the wrath of the Irish police, but also the IRA. Additionally, her South African past is trying to catch up with Sauwa, as one of the most notorious tools of the old government, and a team has been sent over to bring her to justice. They’re in for quite a hard task.

So, how do you make the tool of an infamously racist regime sympathetic? Mostly, it’s by carefully crafting her background. Sauwa in not South African, but came from Rhodesia, now known as Zimbabwe. That country had its similarly racist government replaced with something arguably worse, in the shape of dictator Robert Mugabe, and she saw her family slaughtered in the wholesale violence which followed. Sauwa became a refugee, moved to South Africa, and vowed to do whatever she could to prevent the same thing happening there. That started her down the current career path. It’s a case where you may not agree with the character’s decisions, yet you can see the logic in them. Even the black soldiers hunting her, former “terrorists” themselves, know where she’s coming from, and are similarly haunted by their experiences. One of them says, “I feel more akin to her – another fighter in the trenches.”

It also helps that Sauwa only kills when necessary. Though, of course, her definition of “necessary” is perhaps different to yours and mine! There is only one extended action sequence, a night battle between Sauwa and an IRA unit on a beach. That’s mostly because she is simply better than everyone else in terms of experience and tactics, that while there are other conflicts, they are over pretty quickly. Her behaviour is as much about, for example, being aware of her environment and making sure she is not walking into a trap.  Here, Higgins’s military experience does seem to prove useful, and strikes a nice balance between not enough explanation and over-burdening the reader with unnecessary detail. I’m very much interested in seeing where the story goes from here.

Author: J.E. Higgins
Publisher: Mercenary Publishing, available through Amazon, both as a paperback and an e-book
1 of 3 in the Sauwa Catcher series.

Exit Strategy, by Kelley Armstrong

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

Canadian author Kelley Armstrong is best known as a bestselling writer of urban fantasy. Her Nadia Stafford trilogy was her first foray into the mystery/crime fiction genre. Having already read the sequel novellas that conclude the series, I really want to read the original trilogy. This first volume didn’t disappoint!

After a short, grim prologue in third person, Chapter 1 introduces us to series protagonist Nadia, who’ll be our first person narrator for the bulk of the novel. (The parts from other viewpoints are in third person.) Now 32 years old (so, though the books were written from 2007-2017, the story arc of the series actually covers just three years in her life), she owns and operates a guest lodge in the northern forests of her native Canada. Raised in a family of cops, she’s always had a strong compulsion to serve justice and protect the innocent, which deepened and became more driven after the death of her much-loved cousin, who was murdered when the girls were in their teens. (Nadia still blames herself for not keeping Amy safe.) When she followed in her family footsteps by joining the force, that compulsion had to be tempered by laws and procedures protecting suspects and requiring due process, that exist for a good reason. In her early 20s, there came a triggering incident where her reaction couldn’t be tempered, and boiled over in an act of vigilantism that cost her her badge. Investing in her lodge was a way of rebuilding her life. But she’s fortunate in employing a married couple who can manage the place at times if she has to be away for awhile; because she has an un-advertised side occupation.

The lodge barely breaks even, and six years ago was on the verge of bankruptcy. A regular guest was aware of her financial troubles, and of her history. He happened to be a high-ranking member of New York City’s Tomassini Mafia family. His family aren’t philanthropists, and don’t have much in the way of ethical values –but he could respect hers, and understand something of her mindset. Occasionally, the Tomassini’s interests call for the elimination of some genuinely bad person, who really is a threat to the innocent; and at those times, they’re willing to pay top dollar to someone who can accomplish their purpose capably, without getting caught. So, he had a business proposition for her; and when she accepted it, she saved her lodge.

But she also crossed a line that put her permanently on the wrong side of the law, precluded much possibility for normal close human relationships, and set her on a dark and morally problematic path. She doesn’t relish killing in itself, even of the deserving and dangerous, and is painfully aware that a regular diet of it is troubling and unhealthy. But it does allow her, in some sense, to fulfill her inner compulsion, and it’s become an inescapable part of the person that she is, which she shoulders responsibility for. Her narrative voice looks at herself honestly and self-critically, but without apology. So if you, the reader, are going to be friends with her, you’ll have to look her in the eye and decide whether you can accept her as is. (Obviously I can, since I’m a series fan.)

Early on here, she gets a visit from her taciturn older acquaintance Jack. She’s gotten to know him some (though that’s not easy) in the last few years, since he first showed up at the lodge and let her know that he’s also in her illegal line of work. He’s been back sometimes since, and become a bit of a mentor, with professional advice that she’s found useful. Now, he’s bringing news of the Helter Skelter Killer who’s been terrorizing the U.S. (she’s heard of the case, but deliberately refused to immerse herself in the details). Over a period of nine days in October, across several states, four very diverse people have been murdered, in different localities and all by different means; the only unifying factor is a page torn out of the book Helter Skelter and left beside each of the victims. The chilling twist, though, is that law enforcement officials believe the perp is actually a professional killer, who’s gone rogue and is now dropping random bodies. This has produced an unusual spotlight of police attention on the very small world of long-term hitmen/women, resulting in a couple of arrests, much inconvenience, and a general climate that’s very bad for business.

By nature and necessity, the denizens of this circle are not a gregarious and chummy bunch; but to the extent that they do share information and opinions, their general consensus is that this wacko needs to be identified and stopped, NOW. Jack wants to know if Nadia’s willing to bring her cop skills to the table and partner with him in this hunt. She’s not too keen about coming out from behind her curtain of anonymity, even just among other assassins; and while talking to Jack sometimes at her lodge is one thing, she’s got some trust issues about going off to the States with him and working together. But …the precious lives of more potential victims that this killer might take are at stake, and Nadia is Nadia. Having gotten to know her by reading the novellas, I wouldn’t have been surprised by her answer even if I hadn’t read the cover blurb of the book. :-) So, as Sherlock Holmes might have said, the game is afoot!

As a rule, I don’t care for the idea of serial-killer fiction, and mostly avoid it (the one other exception being Agatha Christie’s The ABC Murders). I’m also not usually a particular fan of romantic triangles, despite my liking for the Twilight Saga, and we get something of that vibe here. (Having read the later books, I already knew how that would play out –and my reviews of those books would be “spoilers” for that aspect!– but reading the series in order is probably the best way to experience the character arcs and relationship developments.) Unlike in the Christie book, we do experience most of the serial killings directly, although they’re done quickly and Armstrong doesn’t wallow in the gore, and we do get in the killer’s sick and disturbed head some –thankfully, only at times and briefly, but it’s an unpleasant place to be.

Coupled with the mitigating factors, though, the author’s strong character study of Nadia herself made this a worthwhile read. She’s a fascinating, complex character (and when the chips are down, an actual heroine despite the ethical issues some of her life choices present), and not the only one of those here; very vivid, round and complicated characterizations are one of this author’s particular strengths. Even minor characters who only appear for a few pages are often illuminated clearly enough to be memorable. Not many of them are particularly likeable (although Nadia honestly is, at least to me, and that’s an assessment I think series fans in general would echo), but you do understand them –or, if you don’t, you’re intrigued enough to want to peel back more of the layers.

This is a genuine, challenging mystery that takes detection and deduction to solve, and Nadia and her unlikely fellow sleuths don’t have access to the kind of crime scene investigation and witness interviews that the FBI does. (Fortunately, though, which partially compensates, they do have more knowledge of the shadowy world of killers for hire than the authorities do.) It’s definitely a mystery of the “American” school, not its staid and cerebral British counterpart: gritty, violent and fraught with danger, and peppered with bad language, though I considered the level of the latter legitimate in terms of realism for these characters. (There’s no sex, explicit or not, but there is some reference to it; Nadia isn’t often promiscuous, but her attitudes are colored by the fact that she doesn’t expect marriage to ever be in her possible future.) The investigation snakes through a dark underside of America, where not only the serial killer but other nefarious types as well have dark secrets, and no scruples about eliminating the nosy. And while Nadia’s very protective of innocent life, even when it’s not convenient to be –despite her hit woman credentials, you could totally trust her to babysit your toddlers!– thugs who want to kill her may find her quite lethal.

Overall, this is a gripping read right from the starting gate (Armstrong leaves two dead bodies lying on the first nine pages), with a lot of action and a real page-turning quality. With the above-mentioned caveat for language issues, I’d highly recommend it to mystery/crime fiction and action “thriller” fans.

Author: Kelley Armstrong
Publisher: KLA Fricke Inc.; available through Amazon, both for Kindle and as a printed book.
A version of this review previously appeared on Goodreads.

Riddle Story of Devil

  By

★★★
“This class is a killer…”

Another example which illustrates the difference between Western and Japanese approaches to education. For here we have “Class Black”, a group containing a baker’s dozen of female pupils, eleven of whom have been tasked by a mysterious group to assassinate the twelfth, with the person who does it being given absolutely anything they want by the organizers. Yeah, it’s not quite Beverley Hills 90210, is it? Of course, nor is it quite that simple. One of the candidates, Tokaku Azuma (Suwa), is the daughter of a legendary and long-standing family of assassins, but has had enough of her enforced role. Inspired by her mother, she has decided to rebel, and so switches sides. Instead of targeting the intended victim, Haru Ichinose (Kanemoto), she vows to protect her from the other students.

Of course, it is a ridiculously contrived scenario, even given the rules which are laid down at an early “orientation”. The series (twelve x 25-minute eps, plus a bonus one) seems occasionally to be aware of this. It shows up in elements such as the class’s teacher (Sakurai), who is depicted as barely noticing three-quarters of his class has “transferred out” in about a week. But these are strictly assassins who act as necessary to the plot. For example, one attempt consists of strapping a bomb around Haru’s neck… but then giving Tokaku 24 hours to find the four-digit code necessary to disarm it. If I had the promise of whatever I wished, I’d not be as generous. I’m just sayin’…

Admittedly, when the truth is finally revealed over the final couple of episodes, it turns out things aren’t quite as they initially appeared. There are clearly far larger forces at play, pulling the strings from behind the scenes, which help explain some (though not all) of the machinations. I also like the slow reveal of information over the course of the series. We gradually learn about both Tokaku’s own background, and those of her ‘competitors’, which range from professionals to your average or garden psycho killers. Their styles of attack are equally varied: as well as the explosive devices mentioned above, there’s poison and even scissors attempted as methods of dispatch.

I was, frankly, a bit uncomfortable with the depictions of these fifteen-year-old girls. While there’s no actual nudity, the makers seem intent on coming as close as possible. That’s especially true of the bonus episode, in which the class is stranded on a desert island for a Battle Royale-style (though non-lethal) contest. Swimsuits-a-go-go. I’m on happier ground with the action – there’s some of that in just about every episode after the first – and the lack of romance (in part no doubt related to the lack of male characters) is also a plus. In the end, it’s a light enough entry to merit viewing, though I’m less sure about repeat value. It’s perhaps telling that I only finished watching it yesterday, and I already had to look up the heroine’s name.

Dir: Keizō Kusakawa
Star (voice): Ayaka Suwa, Hisako Kanemoto, Yoshino Nanjō, Takahiro Sakurai

Ava

  By

★★★
“Haywire. With baggage”

It has been a rough year for action heroines at the cinema. Actually, it has been a rough year for everyone everywhere, thanks to COVID-19. But for the purposes of this site, we have been sadly lacking the kind of tentpole releases which we usually write about over the summer. Wonder Woman 1984, for example, was to have come out in June. But with all venues bar the few remaining drive-ins closed, that was moved first to August, then October [and I don’t know about you, but I’m still not comfortable with the concept of cinema going]. Disney’s live-action version of Mulan opted to bypass theatres all together, and will instead be released on their streaming service.

Poor Ava is suffering a similar fate, going straight to video-on-demand in most places – except, bizarrely, in Hungary, according to Wikipedia. Certainly, given its rather high-powered cast, you would have expected better for this, in a normal world. It still, however, probably ranks as the biggest-profile action heroine movie of the year – at least for a few days until Mulan shows up. To be honest, though, it doesn’t do enough to justify that position. While Chastain is very good in the central role, it’s burdened down by too much drama to be effective, and comes over mostly like a soap-opera adaptation of Haywire.

Ava (Chastain) has overcome a troubled past to become an assassin for a murky intelligence agency, working for Duke (Malkovich). But she is increasingly questioning her work – indeed, literally doing so, having an unnerving habit of asking her targets why someone wants them killed. After a supposedly stealth operation in Saudi Arabia becomes not-so-stealthy, Duke’s protege, Simon (Farrell), takes matters into his own hands, bypassing Duke to put out a kill order on Ava. She’s none too pleased by this, obviously, and seeks to turn the tables on him.

The above paragraph is lean, mean and would have made for a perfectly decent movie. However, the script apparently decides it’s not enough – perhaps Chastain wanted something into which she could sink her dramatic teeth. For we get a whole slew of subplots and conflicts thrown on top. These include, but are not limited, to the following. Ava is a recovering alcoholic. Ava is estranged from her sister (Weixler). Ava had a previous relationship with her sister’s boyfriend, and there are still feelings there. He has a gambling problem. Ava caught her father having an affair, which led to her leaving home. It also caused Ava to break ties with her mother, played by Geena Davis.

It’s all too much, dragging down the plot. Say what you like about Haywire, you never cared that Mallory Kane didn’t have a compelling history, for the film was too busy moving forward to look back. This one spends too much time creating, and then having to tidy up, all these loose ends from Ava’s past. I just wasn’t interested. Though those scenes did give me time to imagine ways this could have worked better.  It would have been way cool if, at the end, Davis had thrown off her motherly trappings, revealed she also used to be a government assassin [perhaps actually being Samantha Caine, Geena’s character from The Long Kiss Goodnight], and teamed up with Ava to take down Simon.

This movie writing thing is a piece of cake.

Anyway, no such luck. The stuff between the drama is not bad, though I have some… questions about seeing the 66-year-old Malkovich going toe-to-toe with Farrell [ditto the 59-year-old Joan Chen and Chastain, actually] Or Farrell’s choice of facial hair and black turtleneck, which give him an unfortunate resemblance to 1930’s fascist, Sir Oswald Mosley. Or Simon’s decisions, including calling up Ava, apparently purely for taunting purposes, then going after her by himself, rather than first sending an escalating series of minions. If the movie hadn’t spent so much time dwelling on all of Ava’s drama, maybe we would have had time for such things.

Despite the relentless slagging delivered over the previous few paragraphs, this wasn’t actually too bad. The lead actress is the main reason why. If the film feels like a cinematic opposite of Anna, where the heroine was little more than a gun-carrying clothes-horse, Chastain is able to carry the weight of all those subplots, and deliver a complex character. She has played her share of action roles previously, perhaps most notably as far as we are concerned, in The Huntsman: Winter’s War, where we said she “kicks surprising amounts of butt.” Here, this aspect is front and centre, and she acquits herself well, even if her hand-to-hand combat against considerably larger opponents could have used a force equalizer or two more, for the sake of credibility.

Two scenes likely stand out. The first (and only!) attempt on her life by Simon’s minion, in a Paris park. And the final battle against him in her hotel bedroom [again, echoes of the similarly-located fight in Haywire between Gina Carano and Michael Fassbender]. Equal credit for those probably has to go to the ever-reliable Amy Johnston, star of Lady Bloodfight, who was Chastain’s stunt double for this. I should also mention Simon’s daughter, Camille, played by Diana Silvers. The ending, though somewhat conclusive, sets up a potential future Camille vs. Ava scenario, which I must confess, I would not mind seeing at all.

Overall, it is worth a look, though its insistence on trying to insert dramatic conflicts into a vehicle that doesn’t need them, becomes increasingly annoying as the movie progresses. When it’s not doing so, however, it is a slick, Bourne-like entity, providing a decent vehicle for Chastain to show off her action credentials. as well as her already-known acting skills. On that basis, it’s a shame I suspect it’s going to end up not being seen by too many people – thanks, Coronavirus! I hope that won’t put her off further exploration of our genre, as it can always use some more high-powered leads.

Dir: Tate Taylor
Star:  Jessica Chastain, John Malkovich, Colin Farrell, Jess Weixler