Who Is Erin Carter?

★★★★
“Discipline isn’t an issue in Ms. Carter’s class.”

Okay, I will admit that this strained credibility on a number of occasions, to the point that buttons were popping off its shirt. But I don’t think the makers were exactly going for gritty realism, and the bottom line is: I enjoyed this a lot. Certainly, more so than Special Ops: Lioness, another limited series which we were watching concurrently. To at least partially address the question posed by the title, Eric Carter (Ahmad) is a supply teacher working in a Spanish school. She lives with her partner, Jordi (Teale), and their somewhat disabled daughter, Harper (Watson). But at the supermarket, Erin foils a robbery in order to save Harper, and it becomes very clear that her skills are not limited to the arena of education.

Turns out, Erin has a past, and the publicity resulting from her impromptu heroism brings it to visit. She finds herself embroiled in murder, organized crime and police corruption, as well as more normal familial drama, such as neighbourhood jealousy and whiny pre-teen nonsense. One of the seven 45-minute episodes is entirely in flashback (unexpected Jamie Bamber!), explaining the reason she changed her identity and moved to Spain, as well as why those from her history are keen to catch up with her. Even the spectacularly unobservant Jordi begins to realize that his other half is not quite as claimed. Her original explanation of a relapse into alcoholism doesn’t exactly explain all the sudden absences, injuries and unusual behaviour Erin is now exhibiting, as she tries to manage the escalating situation.

As you can see, you will need to suspend your disbelief, not least in the reveal of the big bad, who turns out to be a remarkably coincidental person, already in Erin’s life. But there’s a lot to enjoy here, such as the sardonic comparison between “Mommy life” and Erin’s violent and deceptive past. She can go from swapping bitchy comments with a school colleague, to punching throats, in what feels like the blink of an eye. I was also impressed with the combat scenes, which tend to have Erin using anything she can find around her, and possess an impact considerably greater than most TV series. Ahmad, who was in Les Filles du Soleil, possesses a terse fighting style that’s effective.

I admit to largely hating Harper, who is almost a cliche of the bratty, narcissistic and somewhat precocious little girl – admittedly, that may be the point. There are hints she has violent tendencies of her own, albeit this angle is never developed in the first series. The show escalates nicely, until a final episode where Erin and an unexpected ally end up going on the offensive, and things are wrapped up in a reasonable manner. The show did well, topping Netflix’s English-language chart in its week of release, and is still #3 at the time of writing. I’d certainly like to see another series, with this unexpectedly having become my favourite new show of 2023 to date. Though I’m still not sure of the answer to the title’s question.

Creator: Jack Lothian
Star: Evin Ahmad, Sean Teale, Douglas Henshall, Indica Watson

Hit and Run, by Andy Maslen

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

Detective Inspector Stella Cole has her life turned upside down when her lawyer husband is killed in a hit-and-run accident, leaving her to bring up daughter Lola on her own, and struggling with an addiction to both booze and painkillers – anything to numb the pain of everyday existence. Though the driver in question is arrested, he receives a paltry sentence of only three years, and Stella begins to plot taking her own revenge. This is brought up short when the perpetrator is killed in prison, and evidence begins to accumulate that her husband’s death may not have been accidental.

The more DI Cole investigates, the murkier things get, as she discovers evidence of a vigilante group, Pro Patria Mori, operating at the highest levels. They’re not exactly happy to have Cole circling them, and decide she needs to be dealt with. However, Stella has been preparing to deliver the most brutal payback she can imagine, when she finds the man responsible, and is no longer a soft target, but prepared for whatever – and whoever – PPM might throw at her. Despite Britain’s strict gun-controls, her job helps her obtain access to everything she needs, before she sets off to the Highlands of Scotland to carry out her vengeance, with absolutely no regard for what the personal cost might be.

Looking back on this, what will stick in my mind is probably a fairly mind-blowing twist at about the one-third point, which quite upends everything I’d believed, and was something I definitely did not see coming. Well played, Mr. Maslen. Well played. I also liked the nicely-detailed way in which Stella obtained her weaponry. Not being au fait with the finer details of police firearms procedure, I can’t comment on its practicality; however, it sounds like it could work, and that’s good enough for me. The action is fairly low-key for the most part, though ends in a rousing finale, with Stella’s assault on her target, who knows she’s coming and has made defensive preparations. Just not nearly enough of them.

There were some other plot aspects that didn’t convince. In the end, the person directly responsible for her husband’s death – as in, actually driving the car – is one of PPM’s top officials, which doesn’t seem to make sense. It’d be more logical to use the person who was actually sent to jail, and they clearly have no issues with throwing low-lives at problems, or access to the same. Similarly, it’d be more logical to have had her work up the chain of command. It still makes for a satisfying and vigorous tale of justice emphatically served, though I’m not certain how there can be six more books in the series. It feels as if Cole has burned an awful lot of bridges, with a return to her job seeming highly problematic. It’s certainly not a light read, yet perhaps is the better for unashamedly embracing the darkness in its topic and heroine.

Author: Andy Maslen
Publisher: Tyton Press, available through Amazon, both as a paperback and an e-book
Book 1 of 7 in the DI Stella Cole Thrillers series.

The Gentle Touch

★★★★
“Touched by an angel.”

British television was rather late to the policewoman party. The first such American show, Decoy, had aired in 1957, and been followed in the seventies by Get Christie Love! and Police Woman. But the UK had to wait until the eighties for their first home-grown series. The Gentle Touch just beat Juliet Bravo to the title, beginning its five season run four months earlier, in April 1980. It centered on Maggie Forbes (Gascoine), a Detective Inspector who worked out of the Seven Dials station in central London. The show began with the murder of her husband, also a police officer, leaving her to raise teenage son Steve (Rathbone), despite a strong devotion to her career in law enforcement.

To be honest, it’s more character- than action-driven overall, yet that’s its strength, since it does a great job of creating people who feel “real”. Nobody here is perfect: everyone has flaws, and struggles to cope with life’s ups and downs. Maggie is the focus, having to operate in an era when casual disregard for a woman’s talents was the norm. Not least by her Scottish colleague, Bob Croft (Gwaspari), though he eventually came to appreciate her many talents, such as Forbes’s fierce devotion to justice. Fortunately, her boss, Detective Chief Inspector Bill Russell (Marlowe) always had her back, even if his approach means cutting her no slack either. But every episode seemed to have one or more great performance, taking advantage of the vast pool of top-tier British character actors.

If you’re familiar with British films and television of the time (and I basically grew up with them!), you will see a lot of recognizable faces. Josh Ackland, Enn Reitel, Joanne Whalley, Art Malik, David Kelly, Ralph Bates and even Floella Benjamin – now Baroness Benjamin, then playing a high-class call-girl! The show also covered a lot of social topics not often seen on eighties television, from racism to porn, yet generally managed to do so without feeling like it was delivering a lecture. There’s no denying its success at the time. This peaked with the ninth episode of season three, in January 1982, which was the fifth most-watched TV program of the year in the United Kingdom, seen by almost a third of the entire population.

The odd episode does perhaps teeter on the edge of implausibility, such as a largely ineffective cliffhanger at the end of season four, where a woman walks into Seven Dials station, armed with a hand-grenade, and threatening to blow herself up. Such excesses seemed positively… well, American. I felt the show was better when staying safely British: you could have a good drinking game, based off people offering each other a nice cup of tea. Speaking of which, Gascoine must have had a sponsorship deal with artificial sweetener company Hermesetas: Chris noticed the way she inevitably dropped a couple of their little tabs into her cuppa. Yet I was surprised how well it generally stood the test of time. Its age only occasionally shows, and most of its 56 episodes proved highly watchable, thanks to the solid characters and performances.

Creator: Terence Feely
Star: Jill Gascoine, William Marlowe, Brian Gwaspari, Nigel Rathbone

Decoy: The first American policewoman

“Down the line, you name it, we’ve done it. Today, tomorrow, next week, we’ll pose as hostesses, society girls, models – anything and everything the department asks us to be. There are 249 of us in the department. We carry two things in common wherever we go: a shield, called a potsie, and a .32 revolver. We’re New York’s finest. We’re policewomen.”
   — Patricia Jones, Episode 1

If you asked people what was the first American TV show to feature a policewoman, I suspect not many people would get the answer correct. Some might go with Cagney and Lacey. Others might be able to dig a little further back into their memories, and come up with either Get Christie Love! or Police Woman. Maybe some would include The Mod Squad. But the actual pioneer dates back more than fifteen years before Angie Dickinson began patrolling the streets of Los Angeles. The honour goes to Beverly Garland, the star of Decoy. While now largely forgotten, the show ran for 39 episodes on syndicated television, from October 1957 through the following July. It was also one of the first shows to film on location around New York, and the footage of those scenes is a remarkable time-capsule of life in that era.

Garland was already a well-established actress, her career having started with a role in 1949’s noir classic, D.O.A. She was Emmy-nominated for for her work on 1955’s Medic, and  around the same time, was employed on a number of occasions with B-movie legend Roger Corman. Two of those films have already been covered here: Gunslinger and Swamp Women. I will not, however, be covering their work together on It Conquered the World… She later said of Corman, “Roger was always very professional, except when it came to putting us up in a good hotel or giving us a decent meal.” On that basis, the humdrum tedium of a television series might have come as a welcome break, albeit with a punishing schedule that offered little slack. She fell ill one week, during the filming of episode “Across the World”, and rather than pause filming, the script simply was rewritten to minimize her involvement.

With a lot of voice-overs, the style feels reminiscent of Dragnet, which had been a very popular show for most of the fifties. Each episode opens with a stern reminder: “Presented as a tribute to the Bureau of Policewomen, Police Department, City of New York,” and centre on the cases worked by Patricia “Casey” Jones (Garland). As the title suggests, most of them involve Jones going undercover in some guise. That covers an extremely broad range of assignments, from a photographer to a junkie, a nurse to a blackmailer, a high society girl to a prisoner. However, some of the episodes do not require such subterfuge, though there is a tendency for these crimes she is given for investigation to be fairly gynocentric, e.g. trying to find a delinquent father.

As well as the voice-overs, Jones would quite frequently break the fourth wall and address the audience directly – the quote at the top of the article is one such monologue. It feels quite groundbreaking, and is definitely helped by Garland’s commitment to delivering lines which, in other hands, could potentially seem cheesy. I was also genuinely impressed how gritty and, on occasion, dark the stories were, especially considering the era. Death is a frequent visitor, and the topics concerned get heavy, including drug abuse, mental illness and domestic abuse. While everything more or less ends up all right in the end, in that the guilty receive their just deserts, there is considerably more moral gray than I expected. Considering each episode is typically only 24 minutes long, they pack a lot in, and still manage to achieve a considerably emotional wallop on occasion.

Outside of Garland, there were no real “regulars”. The IMDb lists the next most frequent actors, such as Frank Campanella, who played Lieutenant Cella, as appearing in only three episodes. However, there were a lot of faces who made guest appearances, that would go on to more significant roles later in their careers. Those include Ed Asner, Peter Falk, Larry Hagman, Diane Ladd, Al Lewis and Suzanne Pleshette. They helped the show receive warm reviews, Billboard praising Garland in particular: “Aided by a versatile acting range – and a camera-soothing face which combines the high-cheekboned femininity of Greer Garson with the sexiness of Sophia Loren – she manages to be simultaneously a convincing New York City cop and the kind of girl who would make a charge account at Cartier’s worthwhile.” They proclaimed, “Not since Marilyn’s famed walkaway in Seven Year Itch has the camera ogled such a distracting New York pedestrian.”

It’s difficult to be sure whether or not the show was a success, operating as it did outside of the traditional network in the syndicated marketplace. The pre-sales appear to have been brisk with one bulk pre-release sale covering half of the $1.2 million cost for the entire 39-episode run. However, in May 1958, as production was drawing to a close on the first season, the plug was pulled on further episodes, allegedly because producers lacked sufficient funds to continue. The concept of a series about a policewoman would go back into the vaults for years, but Garland would continue her career over the coming decades, both in television and movies. She eventually became the go-to actress when a mom was needed, filling that role in My Three Sons, The Scarecrow and Mrs. King and Lois & Clark: The New Adventures of Superman.

Her legacy in this show stands the test of time surprisingly well. While it may feel dated in a number of aspects (there’s so much smoking!), the character of Casey feels decades ahead of its time. There’s no fluff, in the sense of romantic liaisons: indeed, we know very little about Jones’s life outside of the force. The short-form approach just doesn’t have time to mess around with extraneous filler like that. While it frequently deals with moral issues, the show doesn’t use itself as a platform to lecture the viewer: you’re left to draw your own conclusions. Certain recent works could learn a thing or two there. She’s respected by her colleagues, and it’s no surprise Garland would say that women often told her she inspired them to join the police force. It’s a show that deserves more recognition than it has received, and with many of the episodes in the public domain, is ripe for rediscovery.

Ballistic

★★
“Can’t spell Ballistic without balls…”

You know you’re in for a slice of stinky, nineties action cheese from the opening sequence. Undercover cop Jesse (Holden) has just taken down a sleazy yuppie drug-dealer, and a homeless woman tells her, “You know what you are, sweetie? You’re ballistic!” We probably need to explain why the film is titled that way, because there’s really not an enormous amount of great action here to justify it. Jesse is your typical, no-nonsense cop, who has just transferred from homicide to the Urban Crime Taskforce, where she is meeting resistance from her new colleagues. She is also trying to help her father (Roundtree), a former cop now doing 20 years after being framed with kilos of coke.

Jesse inevitably makes enemies: she comes under suspicious when a witness is killed on her watch, and is then suspected of the murder of the other cop who was in the safe-house. In reality, it’s all a plot by “respectable businessman” Braden (Jones), who inevitably is a dealer in both drugs and illegal weapons. He runs illegal fights in a warehouse lined with cardboard boxes: his top henchman, the person who killed the cop, is actually a woman, Claudia (the impressive looking body-builder Corinna Everson), and we get a small role from Michael Jai White, who would go on to considerably better things than this. As would the movie’s composer, Tyler Bates, and the cast also includes veteran cult actor Charles Napier as Jesse’s superior.

Despite a relatively good cast, it’s largely dull, often almost painfully so, with the action scenes suffering from a particularly brutal style of editing. Holden comes at at six foot even in height, towering over some of her male co-stars even when not wearing high heels, and does have a degree of film presence. It’s just that Bass, making his directorial debut, does not appear to have any idea of how she should be used. Early on, she’s treated as not much more than a slice of cheesecake, e.g. the opening credits feature Jesse showering in slo-mo, for no reason beyond titillation. The sex scenes with her boyfriend (a character which serves no purpose) are little better, and you could make the case Claudia is actually treated more seriously than the heroine.

The film does at least have the courtesy to give us a fight between the two women, though like much of the rest, the results are far from overwhelming, with them lazily snapping kicks toward each other, at a glacial pace. That’s about the peak as far as Jesse is concerned, with the movie’s climax thereafter largely involving a lot of running round the warehouse by everyone involved. It’s difficult to believe this kind of feature would ever have passed muster, even in the days of straight to video schlock. Though given this was the effective end of Holden’s career as a leading lady, perhaps it didn’t.

Dir:  Kim Bass
Star: Marjean Holden, Sam J. Jones, James Lew, Richard Roundtree
a.k.a. Fist of Justice

Mermaid Team

★★★
“Ariel assault?”

This feel like it could easily have come out of the nineties, with the distinct whiff of a throwback to the golden age of Hong Kong “girls with guns” movies. That is, of course, not a bad thing. However, this is not really golden. It’s probably not even bronzey. High-quality PVC perhaps? I think the main difference is probably that the classics starred the likes of Moon Lee, Cynthia Khan and Yukari Oshima, who could kick ass in a convincing fashion. The actresses here are largely limited to gun-play, and most of them look like they would be soundly defeated by a stiff oncoming breeze. However, I can’t knock the production values here: this is slick, well-made and looks very nice.

The group of the title consists of six young women, under the leadership of Yang Yi/Moman (Xu) – the subtitles say one thing, the credits another – who go after drug dealers and related bad guys. It’s the usual group of individuals, each with their own special skills. For instance, Qi Xia (Zhou) appears to be the smart girl of the group. Well, she wears glasses and sucks a lollipop, anyway: her intelligence never has much relevance. Similarly, Sha Lv, which I have no idea how to pronounce, is the team’s sniper, and so on. None of them make much of an impression, save for Moman, who is also the one lucky enough to receive a dramatic arc, since her sister was killed during the escape of a captured villain. Or was she?

This runs barely an hour long in the version officially released on YouTube, – maybe there’s a director’s cut somewhere? There did definitely seems to be edits. It’s not so much slim as positively anorexic, with not much room for development of story or characters. Moman and her team work their way up the chain, with some light action, though there is a surprising amount of death on the way. Let’s just say, Mermaid Team will be placing a ‘Help wanted’ advert. I did like Zhu, who plays Mi Lai, a henchwoman to one of the bad guys, and has an appropriately wild-cannon vibe to her. I was hoping for a final battle between Mi Lai and Moman; however, this seems almost totally disinterested in hand-to-hand action.

Not that it’s by any means bad, just competently forgettable, with a lack of many memorable elements – in either good or bad direction. I don’t know what the budget was on this. I suspect, like many Chinese films, it was relatively small by Hollywood standards, yet Ma certainly does a good job of squeezing every ounce of production value out of the price, and the images pop off the screen too. I must confess though, given the title, I was expecting at least some aquatic shenanigans, but these mermaids remain resolutely land-dwelling. On the other hand, while Googling the title, I did learn there is apparently a World Mermaid Championship. Never say this site is not informative…

Dir: Ma Hong-Wen
Star: Xu Zi-Lu, Zhang Da-Ke, Zhou Jing, Zhu Jue

Whore and Policewoman

★★★
“We prefer the term ‘sex worker’ these days…”

If the title is more than a bit blunt, it’s certainly accurate. May Lin (Cheng) is a brash hooker, who runs a sideline in blackmail videos with her flatmate, Nana. But one night she comes home to find Nana near death, the victim of a brutal client. She tells the police about the video, but before she can give it to them, the perpetrator – rich and influential politician, Kao Tien Chin (Cho) – sends an army of beige trenchcoat wearing killers to take care of both Nana and May. The former succumbs, but the latter escapes and goes on the run. With the police force apparently leaking like a sieve and the case being shut down from on high, prosecutor Yin Li Shan sends his niece, Nancy Cheng (Mishiwaki), to link up with May and bring her in. But they’ll have to get past the trenchcoat mafia, among other threats, for there to be any hope of justice.

This is relatively late in the Hong Kong GWG cycle, and is rougher than most, in more ways than one. There is a nice character arc for May, who initially seems intensely dislikeable, but ends up fiercely loyal to her protector, after realizing the extent to which Nancy will go – literally taking a bullet for the prostitute. This is harshly demonstrated when May lets herself be gang-raped, to save the injured Nancy from that fate. While not in any way explicit, it’s a tough sequence to watch, May mouthing “Go away” to Nancy. Of course, there’s the usual bonding in the middle between the mismatched pair, as they realize neither deserves the scorn with which they view each other.

The plot is more than a little flimsy, with any number of points at which things could easily have been resolved. There are some remarkable moments of coincidence too. For instance, after escaping the trenchcoaters (in a rather risky-looking stunt, involving a plummeting jeep and a giant fireball), seconds later in screen time, May and Nancy bump into them again at a train station. Similarly, the rapists are coincidentally re-encountered, giving our heroines the opportunity for revenge. However, in both cases, the results are a solid bit of one versus many action, in the interesting environments of a train carriage and a food court respectively, so we’ll let it slip.

I do wonder if Nishiwaki was injured during shooting. Because when it comes to the final confrontation, at a party in Chin’s offices, Nancy is replaced by another character for the last battle, without explanation. It’s not a stand-in, it’s a completely different actress in a separate, unnamed role. Very bizarre. This may also have been the final movie of Nishiwaki’s Hong Kong career, which would lend support to the “major injury” theory. All told, this is decent enough. Not all of it works (though the crappy English sub job doesn’t help), yet a sufficient quantity does, and with acceptable pacing to ensure the viewer is never bored, at least for too long.

Dir: Kuo-Chu Huang
Star: Yim Lai Cheng, Michiko Nishiwaki, Hoi-San Kwan, Charlie Cho

Arisaka

★★★★
“The wilderness strikes back.”

The heroine here, Mariano (Salvador), has to count as the baddest bitch I’ve seen in quite a long time. In terms of being a sheer, unstoppable force, she’s right up there with Jen from Revenge. There’s an absolute moral compass at play here, which combines a stoic refusal to harm the innocent, with utter ruthlessness when it comes to punishing the guilty. And she is judge, jury and especially executioner, when it comes to determining who’s who. Of particular note, most action heroines tend to kill only when directly threatened. Here however, once Mariano has decided you’re on the wrong side, death can come for you at any moment, without the need for any further provocation.

She is a Filipino police officer, part of a convoy taking the vice-mayor of a town to testify against a drug cartel. In particular, he’s going to name names of those in authority who are working with the cartel. Naturally, this can’t be allowed to happen, and it’s no surprise when the convoy is ambushed. Mariano is the sole survivor, and takes possession of the official’s cellphone, which contains the incriminating evidence. It’s not long before Sonny (Confiado), the cartel leader shows up, demonstrating a ruthless approach to the situation, and none too happy to discover he’s one short in the corpse department. He and his lackeys, including one of Mariano’s colleagues (Acuña), enter the jungle in pursuit of the wounded fugitive. She gets help from a young indigenous girl (Romualdo) and her family, but doing so exposes them to Sonny’s brutal wrath.

That’s when the gloves come off, thanks in part to Mariano being led to a stash of World War 2 weapons, left behind when local soldiers were trying to escape the Japanese. I’ll admit to raising an eyebrow at this. Would such weapons really be in perfect working order, after 75 years in a tropical jungle? Hey, I’m no expert. [Despite running this site, I haven’t even touched a gun since moving to Arizona in 2000!] With that as a given though, what follows is some remarkably splattery head-shots, as Mariano works her way through Sonny’s henchmen, and up to the inevitable confrontation with the man himself.

Interspersed in this are flashbacks to her back in the big city, being ordered to shoot someone entirely on the say-so of her boss, to prove her loyalty to her colleagues. That is about the extent of insight into Mariano’s character the film offers, but it’s enough to work, since actions here definitely speak louder than words. Indeed, the audience is likely better off than the heroine, getting subtitles for the native dialogue, a language which Mariano doesn’t speak. The intent is typically clear enough, even if a few scenes did leave me a little uncertain as to their purpose. Overall though, the result is an engrossing and always interesting watch, which doesn’t hold back, and takes no prisoners. Much like its central character.

Dir: Mikhail Red
Star: Maja Salvador, Shella Mae Romualdo, Mon Confiado, Arthur Acuña

Sin, by J.M. Leduc

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

Sinclair O’Malley, known to everyone as Sin, is a bit of a wild card. She was initially an FBI agent, but was released by the agency, largely for her refusal to stay within the lines. In particular, she went off-book to end a human trafficking ring in Nicaragua. She is the kind of person whom we first meet interrupting a funeral, by rolling up to it late, on a Harley. But this is just the book’s first misstep. For rather than demonstrating her bad-ass credentials, it just made me feel she was a selfish and egocentric narcissist, shrieking “Look at meeeeeeee!” everywhere she went. Subsequent actions did little to disavow me of this belief.

Anyway, inexplicably, the agency now desperately want her back. For a number of their agents have turned up dead, after being sent to investigate the corpses of young Latin American girls, which have turned up along the coast from Florida to Louisiana. The bodies showed evidence of torture and sexual assault. But Sin in particular is needed, because the agents were found near Tumbledown Bay, the small community in the Florida Keys where she grew up – and which she, quite deliberately, left. Convinced to return, in part due to her father being terminally ill with cancer. She discovers the community has fallen under the thrall of a sleazy preacher, the Reverend Jeremiah Heap. He just happens to have opened an orphanage, catering to Latin American girls. Might this be connected?

Oh, of course it is. There’s a paedophile/snuff movie ring, streaming their acts over the Internet to an elite clientele. Quite why they bother importing children from South America (to borrow an infamous movie tagline, “where life is cheap”) rather than… Oh, I dunno, streaming from there to begin with, is never clear. But then, the international criminal masterminds here are basically brutish thugs. The rule here in Tumbledown Bay is: the stupider and uglier you are, the more likely you are to be involved in the ring. Sin is neither, to be fair. But I found most of her character traits thoroughly off-putting. This quote resonated: “Some of us can change, Sin. And some of us are still the bitter, nasty-mouthed, bitch they were seven years ago.” That’s your heroine, folks.

It’s clear the kind of persona Leduc is aiming for. A take-no-nonsense woman, prepared to do whatever it takes, and unconcerned about whose toes she might stomp on in the process. But it needs more finesse and balance; there’s nothing, for instance, to explain her dedicated squad, who leap to her every need. Why do they have such loyalty to her? ‘Cos she’s hot? Might as well be. There’s also a pacing problem: the storming of the orphanage feels like it should be the climax, yet the book rattles on for a further twenty percent, tidying up loose ends. These should probably have been shifted into a further volume, this one ending with the line, “I am the Pearl Angel of Death, she thought, and I will hunt and find each and every one of those people.” Instead, it’s all downhill from there.

Author: J.M. Leduc
Publisher: Amazon Digital Services, available through Amazon, both as a paperback and an e-book
1 of 3 in the Sinclair O’Malley Thriller series.

A Killer Rising

★★½
“FBI Agent Jekyll and Hyde”

At least a star of the above rating is purely for the concept, which is one just brimming with potential. The problem here is entirely down to execution that isn’t just lacklustre, it’s entirely devoid of all lustre. First and foremost, there is absolutely no reason for this to have a running time of 122 minutes, especially when the first half makes its point inside about ten, and then sits there, as if waiting for a bus. It’s a particular issue, because it’s only the second half where things get adequately interesting. You will need a great deal of patience – or, probably more likely, some household chores to take care of – in order to reach that point.

The heroine is Kacee Rhona (Beckly), an irascible FBI agent with a long history of disciplinary issues, going back to her days at Quantico. It’s perhaps not surprising, considering her childhood was a hellish landscape of abuse, from which she barely escaped at all, only after defending herself against her biological father. You do wonder how someone with such obvious psychological issues was accepted into the FBI, but whatevs. Seems she’s quite good at her job, and is now hot on the trail of a serial killer, Montague (Anderson) who has been kidnapping, raping and murdering (not necessarily in that order) a slew of women. It’s largely your standard “loose cannon with issues” thriller, with which we’re all (overly) familiar. While Beckly is… okay, the rest of the cast are well short of convincing, and the production’s resources are insufficient for what it’s trying to do.

Then, however, the killer brutally attacks Agent Rhona, leaving her literally dead for several minutes, and causing something inside her to snap. She becomes a vigilante while officially on sick leave, targetting those whom the law has not been able to punish. And who better to become a serial killer of serial killers, than someone trained to catch serial killers? It’s a bit like an unhinged, female version of Dexter, and is an awesome concept. Her colleagues are… well, for obvious reasons, somewhat ambivalent about this, when their suspicions are drawn towards one of their own kind. On the other hand, Rhona’s operation outside the law has its advantages, especially with Montague still on the loose.

I’d love to see this given the production it deserves, with a better supporting cast, and elements that accurately reflect the supposed FBI setting, which never reaches even “unconvincing”. It feels like a nicely twisted take on Silence of the Lambs, and I could imagine a young Jodie Foster or Angelina Jolie in the role of the heroine. But any remake would also need to go at the script with a pair of garden shears, removing all the extraneous nonsense which drags the front hour down to an uninteresting crawl. There was eventually marginally enough here to keep me going, yet I’d not blame anyone if they chose to cut their losses before that point.

Dir: Michael Fredianelli
Star: Stacy Beckly, Derek Crowe, Kevin Karrick, Jaren Anderson