Tag: e

Element 42, by Seeley James

  By

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

Earlier this year, because he knew that I’d greatly liked the two previous Sabel Security novels, my Goodreads friend Seeley James gifted me with the e-book editions of all of the remaining five. This was just an act of friendly generosity, with no actual request for reviews; but I’m glad to treat them as review copies, and (as always) to review them fairly on their merits. This book’s merits earn it very high marks, which came as no surprise to me!

Unlike some series, this one really should be read in order; you need the background of the first two to fully understand the characters and premise, and the previous experiences that shape their situation and relationships. (My reviews of the previous books, also provide background for this review, and a lot of the earlier comments would also apply here.) Here, Pia and her team of veteran agents stumble onto a scheme that clearly involves unethical biological research on natives in the jungles of Borneo. What else it ultimately involves –well, that would be telling, but plumbing the full depth of what’s going on will have our gallant band of heroes/heroines (where gender is concerned, Seeley’s an equal-opportunity writer!) facing danger and death on three different continents, with LOTS of lives, and maybe the future of mankind, at stake.  It’s worth noting that, while Pia earns her three-star kick-butt quotient here, we have at least three action-capable ladies among our characters here (one of whom is much more lethal than Pia is), and another one who grows unto the role.

Like the previous book, this one interweaves two narrative strands, one in third person and one in the first-person voice of Sabel Security agent Jacob Stearne. Also like the previous one, its premise builds a fictional narrative on the real-life realities of actual geopolitical problems and a world ruled by elitist corporations and governments that are almost totally devoid of any ethic except self-centered utilitarianism, and in the grip of a hubris that’s willing and eager to play God. (No, we don’t have any concrete evidence that anybody’s planning a scheme like the one depicted here –but at the same time, it’s a pretty plausible guess that there are plenty of people in high places who at least contemplate it, or would if they calculated they could pull it off.) Of the three books I’ve read to date, this one has the most action, with an almost manic pace, and the highest body count. We also have some more revelation of what makes Pia tick psychologically, and a hint of more revelations to come about the murder of her birth parents when she was five years old. (She’s operating to a big extent in vigilante mode here, but for me that’s not necessarily a negative thing; the book will force readers to consider how they feel about that, and my personal opinion of it is that it can be morally justified at times.)

The plotting is complex, and the chapters tend to end on cliffhanger notes, only to switch back and forth between equally precarious narrative strands. Seeley knows a great deal about high-tech surveillance equipment, weaponry, etc., and makes liberal use of what he knows here; but the reader doesn’t have to share that knowledge –we can just accept that things work the way he says they do, and go with the flow. If one had unlimited time to read, this would be a quick read; it took me nearly two months to finish only because I read it irregularly here and there in electronic format. (I’d have blazed through it a lot faster in paper format, and would have read it in one sitting if I could have!) No spoilers, but the ending was particularly good.

My reaction to the read wasn’t without a few quibbles. Although I sometimes got lost in plot details and couldn’t remember a connection, etc., I think that was mostly because of the piecemeal way I had to read the book over a span of weeks, not due to deficiencies in the narration. Mostly, I could follow the action sequences (not always; they’d be clearer in movie format, and this would be a great subject for movie adaptation!). But on at least three occasions, characters with their hands tied behind their backs reverse that by, apparently, jumping backwards through their own arms. I don’t believe this is physically possible, no matter how athletic the person is; and even if it was, I think it would result in two dislocated shoulders. Seeley also tends to forget details from previous books. It was established in the first two books that persons shot with Sabel Security tranquilizer darts need to be injected with an antidote to prevent possible allergic reactions (if I correctly recall the explanation); that requirement disappears here. Jacob specifically mentioned in the previous book that fellow agent Carla was married; here he tells us specifically that he never knew anything about her marital status, and it’s made clear that she’s single.

Bad language is probably within the limits of realism, and there’s no explicit sex (though, Jacob being Jacob, we’re not terribly surprised in the opening scene when he’s rousted out of bed, and is sharing it with a recently-met woman). But the revelation, at one point, of past messed-up sexual escapades and inter-relationships among some of the characters (not Pia) is so off-putting it inspires eye rolling. (However, while I recently dropped another series because I discovered that the author wants us to believe his protagonist really has conversations with animals, I don’t believe Seeley really wants us to believe Jacob has actual conversations only he can hear with the Roman god Mercury. IMO, we should understand this simply as a hallucinogenic coping mechanism when he’s not on his meds, and the “warnings” from that source as really deriving from a sixth sense and highly-keen natural senses and instincts. I could be wrong, though….)

Regardless of quibbles, though, I really liked the book and continue to really like the series. I’m invested in it for the long haul, though It’ll be autumn before I’m able to get to the next book. But I’ll be champing at the bit!

Author: Seeley James
Publisher: Machined Media, available through Amazon, both for Kindle and as a printed book.
A version of this review previously appeared on Goodreads.

The Executioners

  By

★★½
“Home of the hits”

“I realized that there was no such thing as a boundary between good or evil, black and white, right or wrong. All I learned is that this world is divided by the executed and executioners.” The above is spoken by a character toward the end of this, and explains the significance of the title, though your mileage may vary as to how convincing it is as an explanation. Four young women go to a country house by a lake, which holds dark memories for one of them. Belle (Dallender, known here from I Spit on Your Grave 2) watched her father die of a heart attack there, after he rescued her from drowning, and has been plagued by guilt ever since. There’s also Kay (Burn), a writer who is working on a “story of home invasion, mixed with supernatural elements.” And, wouldn’t you know it? Barely has the trip started, before three men burst in and take the group hostage.

There then follows some fairly nasty brutality and sexual violence, which seems especially dubious since the director has made energetic (and, let’s be honest, not unsuccessful) efforts to sexualize the attractive women – both before, and even more questionably, after that scene. The victims continue wandering round in their underwear for no good reason, when any real person would have quickly reached for their clothes. However, the tables are turned, with the three attackers turning out to be a bit crap at the whole home-invasion thing. With them tied up, it’s time for the quartet to mete out their own brand of justice – something which Belle, especially, is very keen to do.

This is where things get at least somewhat interesting, and rather meta. For it turns out the home invaders were not acting on their own initiative. They had been hired to attack the house, by person or persons then unknown, and were live-streaming their actions through bodycams back to their employer. Who is lurking in the woods nearby, and may or may not be ready to intervene on behalf of their employees. The scripting in this section is mediocre: one woman’s break for help and fate is so rapidly glossed-over as to be inconsequential, and one of the attacker becomes an ally with little more than “I’m gonna trust you with a gun. Remember, we’re not the enemy.”

As the poster suggests, Serafini is going for the grindhouse aesthetic. I’m just not sure how well he nails this. The nasty and repellent elements, he seems to have a good handle on, and Dallender impresses in her role. Yet the films in that field which have stood the test of time offer more than that, and it’s there where the film seems to fall short most obviously, with this likely making little or no lasting impression. The eventual explanation raises more questions than it answers, and doesn’t appear to make a great deal of logical sense. If you like your meat raw and bloody, this one may be more to your taste than it was to mine. If only they’d named all the characters after Disney princesses.

Dir: Giorgio Serafini
Star: Natalie Burn, Jemma Dallender, Rachel Rosenstein, Anna Shields

Exile

  By

★★
“Planet rock”

Space freighter pilot Jason (Sheridan) has his craft hijacked, and is forced to crash-land it on a deserted planet. Blinded and alone, things look grim for him, until he’s fortunate enough to be found by android Reyna (Guzzetta). She’s the product of a maverick genius, who took refuge on the planet, but recently died: she needs Jason, as the systems which power her require a human presence in order to operate. And he needs her – in particular, her advanced combat skills – in order to protect him, both from the planet’s hostile fauna, and the hijacker’s pals, who have followed him down to its surface. Yet, is Reyna entirely trustworthy?

This is especially shaky at the beginning. Maybe the CGI might have passed muster when this came out in 2008 (key word: “might”). The decade which has passed has not been kind to them, and you’d expect better from a remaindered PS4 game nowadays. Initially, the story is no great shakes either, especially with Jason’s blindness apparently little more than a slight inconvenience. He navigates his way round the unfamiliar landscape with the alacrity of a well-equipped bat, and seems to have little trouble breathing an atmosphere every other human requires a respirator to handle. Apparently, “you get used to it”, according to a throwaway line late in proceedings.

Then there’s the monster roaming the planet. It’s a good thing its only prey is blind, because… let’s just say, speed is not a strength. By “roaming”, I likely mean “shuffling slowly around.” On one level, it’s more than a bit crap, a bargain-basement knock of the Alien. On the other… it’s kinda endearing, simply by nature of being so inept: something Conway seems to realize, showing it only in quick cuts, close-ups and partial angles. We never get a decent medium-shot, probably for good reason. Throw in the proliferation of other people sharing the director’s surname in the credits, and it’s clear this is a professional production in little more than intent.

Yet, it has some interesting ideas, even if the interplanetary warfare described in the opening voice-over is notable by its almost complete absence. Guzzetta is actually decent in her role, with a physical presence which reminded me of Pollyanna McIntosh. It’s a role where her artificial, stilted and slightly forced performance (whether deliberate or not!) works for the character. The second half feels like a considerable improvement, when a rescue mission lands in search of Jason, and Reyna realizes her power source might be about to be taken away from her. If Conway had not over-reached himself and his available resources so aggressively in the first half, this could potentially (again, key word: “potentially”) have been a small cult classic.

Instead, while I’d like to applaud ambition in any film-maker, this feels like someone biting off an entire buffet more than they are capable of chewing. The results turn out to be similarly indigestible for the viewer.

Dir: Mike Conway
Star: Brian Sheridan, Heather Lei Guzzetta, Tiffany Sinclair, Jake Bass

ExPatriot

  By

★★★
“National insecurity”

Riley Connors (Kane) is a CIA analyst, who quits her job and blows the whistle on secret government surveillance programs. Having pulled an Edward Snowden, she hides out in Colombia, helped by the reporter who broke her story. Her peace is short-lived: a knock on the door proves to be a local cop, working in conjunction with Bill Donovan (Weber), her former CIA colleague and lover. He comes with a proposition. Help them take down a pair of shady Cuban banking brothers (Espitia and Browner) who are suspected of funding domestic terrorism, and she’ll be able to return to the United States, with the slate wiped clean. It’s a very risky proposition, even if her reputation as an enemy of the state might be the perfect “in” to the targets’ organization. But can Bill be trusted either?

Probably wisely, it avoids too much in the way of potentially lethal (and largely irrelevant) political commentary. Though the main twist, to be honest, is so obvious, I have to wonder what kind of vetting the CIA does for its employees, and also about the overall accuracy of the term “intelligence community”. Yet, in something of a contradiction, once this clown-sized narrative shoe finally drops, it makes for a more straightforward and effective narrative the rest of the way. Everyone’s true motives have been exposed, rather than the murky world of spy vs. counterspy which the first half of the film has largely inhabited. That section feels a little like an episode from Alias with Sydney Bristow going undercover, climaxing in Riley trying to transfer all the brothers’ ill-gotten funds out of their accounts, before one of them arrives in their office.

As such, it does take a fair amount of disbelief suspension. Would any group of shady bankers employ an ex-spook as a security consultant – particularly one who was too morally high-minded for the CIA? Inevitably, one of the brothers falls for her, causing some friction between her and Bill, who still blames her for walking out on him, yet simultaneously still carries a flame for Riley. I think the latter half works better, showcasing some above-average location work, in and around Bogota, ending up on top of Mount Monserrate with its giant status of Christ [when I first saw this, I though we were in Rio!]. Oddly, this is the second film I’ve recently seen which was filmed there, for no particular reason, after The Belko Experiment.

Kane was also familiar to me, having played the ex-girlfriend of serial killer Paul Stagg in The Fall, though is rather different here, to the point I didn’t recognize her. It makes for solid, if unspectacular, entertainment which site a couple of F-bombs away from being a decent TV movie. While predictable, it’s well-enough constructed, and Riley makes for an interesting character, one whose scruples could end up being the (literal) death of her. There is a certain amount of bait and switch here, in that the Snowdon-esque escapade of the opening, ends up not being particularly relevant to the main plot: I can see how it could have been eliminated without much tweaking of the plot. However, what the film gains from this, likely balances out any losses, although it probably helps I had no fore-knowledge of the specifics. I see a sleeve with a girl and a gun, it goes on the list…

Dir: Conor Allyn
Star: Valene Kane, Charlie Weber, Mario Espitia, Andres Ogilvie Browne

Emergency Exit

  By

★★★
“A heroine who stands against heroin.”

Released in 1980, it was only the previous year – as an opening caption tells us – that women were allowed into the Greek police force. So this obscurity [hence the low-quality images, for which I apologize!] was perhaps the first Hellenic entry in our genre. The heroine is Daisy Alexiou (Karlatou, best-known for playing Prince’s mother in Purple Rain), one of the first batch of policewomen, whom we first see in an introductory training montage. Initially assigned to traffic duty, her role in chasing and capturing a bank robber quickly gets her assigned to narcotics. Which is fine with her: she has a strong anti-drug streak, due to the personal impact it has had on her, proclaiming, “It is a disgusting disease, that kills people and rots their society.” Given this, I was wryly amused to see Daisy smokes like a chimney. Hey, it was the eighties…

She gets to see the human face of the heroin problem when she captures a junkie, Tassos Bekiris (Eskenazy), trying to burgle her apartment. Their relationship helps him get clean temporarily, until a relapse sends him back into the arms of mother smack. He ends up shot dead, and the evidence, unfortunately, points increasingly towards Daisy. Before the police net, under the command of her boss, Markos Angelou (Foundas), closes on her, she has to track down the real killer, who is also the kingpin of the local drug trade. Or, rather, queenpin. For the boss is Katia Theohari (Mavropoulou), the owner of a local import-export business, who traffics the dope inside hollowed-out statues.

Considering this is nearer four decades old than three, it has stood the test of time surprisingly well. Alexiou doesn’t mess around, happily hurtling into danger without a second thought, and proves generally competent, save for an ill-advised undercover operation, which ends badly and seems to exist largely so we can see Karlatou dressed as a hooker. Outside of the cigarette use (so rampant it feels like Marlboro were one of the producers), the most dated thing here is probably Daisy and Markos having a romantic relationship, in total violation of every boss-subordinate protocol. But both the story and characters still feel reasonably contemporary, and Karlatou carries herself effectively.

This clocks in at a meaty 123 minutes, though if director Foskolos was not quite so fond of slow-motion, it could well have been closer to 100. He appears also to appreciate gravel-pits, with the bank robbery at the start and the drug buy at the end, both ending up in what looks suspiciously like the same location. The latter does result in an laudably downbeat conclusion, tying back in to why Daisy is so down on drugs. Yet it’s with a twist that makes for an ambivalent ending: while she may have cleared her name of Tassos’s murder, it seems Markos will now be forced to cover up multiple other killings in which his officer was involved. I suspect Daisy’s commendation for bravery might be a while…

Dir: Nikos Foskolos
Star: Olga Karlatou, Giorgos Foundas, Alberto Eskenazy, Gely Mavropoulou
a.k.a. Eksodos Kindynou or Εξοδος Κινδυνου

Elite

  By

★★½
“Because Mediocre  wouldn’t sell as well.”

A mission in central America against drug cartel boss Reynaldo Benitez (Garza) goes wrong, leaving eight Special Ops soldiers dead. This includes the husband of Naval Covert Operations Command agent, Abbey Vaughn (Gregory), who is intent on discovering the truth about what happened to her spouse. She links up with the only survivor of the operation, Lt. Sam Harrigan (Scarbrough), now living in a trailer, and spending his time drinking and practicing golf. Together with the rest of their team, they investigate the case, only to find the tentacles of organized crime are deeper embedded than they appear, and their inquiries put not only themselves, but Abbey’s family in serious danger.

The performances here aren’t the problem. Gregory and Scarbrough are both effective enough, and the supporting cast are equally watchable – special credit to Rousseau as team hacker Jazz, a character of whom I’d have liked to have seen more. The hand-to-hand combat scenes are also better staged than I was expecting. It appears a lot of the performers have MMA experience, along with indie wrestler Mike Dell, and this gives the fights a solid amount of credibility, with the punches appearing to have an impact on their recipients.

If only the same could be said for other aspects, which outweigh the positives overall. First, and largest, is the bane of many low-budget movies: bad audio. I had to sit with my finger on the remote control, perpetually adjusting the volume – one scene too loud, the next inaudibly quiet. The foley work on the gun-battles was simply laughable, using electronic bleeps and chirps that made bursts of semi-automatic fire sound more like birdsong. In general, anything involving armaments was problematic and unconvincing, with the production able to afford little or nothing in the way of collateral damage, to people or property.

The other main problem for me was the script, consisting of a collection of clichés and by-the-number plot points, without any genuine surprises to be found. It might have passed muster for a less discerning audience in the mid-eighties. Though unless they found the basic concept of moving pictures novel enough to be a distraction, I’m not even sure they would be satisfied. For example, immediately we saw the heroine’s father and daughter, I could guess exactly what their role in the film was going to be, and went 2-for-2 in my expectations.

It was particularly disappointing, because story-line is an area where resources shouldn’t be a problem. Yes, it will limit the scenarios open to the film-maker; however, you should still be able to do more than trot out hackneyed elements, arranged in a way that alternately bores and confuses (quite why an NCOC agent was conducting an investigation of a drug cartel escapes me, and I’m still uncertain whether a major character ended the film alive or dead). Even with a higher tolerance for small-budget cinema than most, this was still more chore than pleasure.

Dir: Mark Cantu
Star: Allison Gregory, Jason Scarbrough, Ione Rousseau, Larry Garza

The Eyes of My Mother

  By

★★
“Eyes without a farce.”

“Post-horror” is now, apparently, A Thing. It refers to horror films that subvert the traditional tropes and style of the genre in some way. Though based on the so-tagged example of it I’ve seen, the main subversion appears to be “not being frightening.” I think there’s a spot of pretension mixed in as well, since horror is generally regarded as marginally above pornography in terms of critical appreciation. By calling it something else, this gives those who turn their nose up at “horror” a chance to appreciate it. But it’s a bit of a double-edged sword for marketing, because you’re as likely to lose fans of “true” horror, who have been burned badly by films riding on the genre’s coat-tails.

There’s nothing particularly new about this. Films which rely on implied rather than explicit horror have generally been more warmly received by critics. Think of Psycho, The Shining, or even contrast the receptions of the original Cat People and Paul Schrader’s 1982 remake, which took all the repressed sexuality of the original and brought it front and center. Critics hated the latter. It’s one of my top 10 films of all-time – but I can also love the original, even though it’s so understated as barely to qualify as horror by modern standards. There’s room for both, and neither is innately superior. However, it generally takes a bit more skill to provoke an audience reaction with unseen terrors, especially if the viewer has seen their share of genre entries.

Which (finally) brings me to The Eyes of My Mother, a black-and-white film, which I guess is post-horror. For while it tells the story of a family of psychos living in the country, with a fondness for kidnap and torture… This is not exactly The Texas Chainsaw Massacre. It starts off as a family affair, with young Francesca living on a farm with her mother (Agostini), a former Portuguese eye surgeon, and father (Nazak). A home invasion results in a death, but the perpetrator is captured, and becomes Francesca’s tormented plaything as she grows into adulthood (Magalhães), honing her surgical skills on him. That turns out to be just the first victim, as Francesca if a firm believer in crafting a new family by abduction.

It’s all too highbrow for its own good, Pesce apparently believing that cutting away from virtually all actual violence, and draining the colour from proceedings is equivalent to art. He’s wrong, for you also need to be a Hitchcock or a Polanski. Although some day, Pesce might reach those heights, this is his feature debut, and the style instead comes over as unbearably pretentious: art purely for art’s sake, instead of serving the story. Not to say it gets everything wrong; the lead performance is deliciously chilling in its utter placidity, going to the other extreme from Texas, and all the more effective for it. But when Chris’s first post-screening comment is, “I wonder how they paid their electricity bill?”, you know that any supposed horror movie (even a post-horror one) has fumbled the ball badly in terms of impacting the viewer.

Dir: Nicolas Pesce
Star: Kika Magalhães, Olivia Bond, Diana Agostini, Paul Nazak

La Esquina del Diablo

  By

★★½
“Stuck in a corner.”

You’re in deep in Devil’s Corner
And you already realize it’s hard to get out.
What would you do if there’s no place to run
Sharpen your senses and defend yourself well

In Devil’s Corner, walking towards love
Dodging bullets and risking your heart 
It’s so hard to escape from Devil’s Corner 
Defying death I came here to fight 
And to love 

Thus goes the peppy pop ditty which plays over the opening credits of this Colombian telenovela. It stars Ana Serradilla, whom we previously saw as the heroine of La Viuda Negra. Here, she’s on the other side of the law, playing cop Ana García. She wants to be assigned to the special operations group. But her temper gets the best of her when she’s given a surreptitious test, interviewing a suspect who’s actually a policeman, and is deliberately trying to provoke her.

Fortunately, she gets a second chance to make a first impression, and is inserted in an undercover role to the aptly-named “La esquina del diablo” – the Devil’s corner. It’s a no-go zone for police, a ghetto perched high up on the hills overlooking the city. The area is controlled with an iron hand by the Velasco family, led by patriarch Angel (Tappan); they run drugs and other criminal activities, and have been a thorn in the side of the local authorities for years. Local cop Eder Martin (de Miguel) sends Ana into the area as a social worker, to gather information, after a helicopter crash supposedly kills Angel. However, it quickly turns out this was merely a ruse by the boss, to get the cops off his back. Can Ana embed herself deeply into the local community to complete her mission?

That’s just one – possibly not even the main one – of a number of plot threads which are woven into the fabric of the 70 episodes. Additional elements include:

  • Angel’s second-in-command, Yago (Pernia), who was a childhood friend of Eder
  • Angel’s son, Angelito, who is an ambitious loose cannon with psychopathic tendencies
  • Eder’s relationship with the mayor’s daughter, and its conflict with the growing attraction to Ana
  • Meanwhile, Ana’s gradual realization that Yago may not be as bad an apple as he seems
  • The mayor’s political aspirations and presidential campaign
  • Yago’s son is a promising football player, but is also on the verge of being recruited by Angelito
  • The other undercover cop, who befriends Angelito in jail and helps him escape
  • The mysterious “He”, a rival crime boss who inhabits the upper echelon of the city’s elite
  • The serial killer who is leaving a trail of women’s corpses, tattooed with numbers on their shoulders

Phew. This cornucopia of plot-lines likely both the series’s biggest strength and its greatest weakness. There’s no doubt it’s actually very well-handled by the writers and cast: even the relatively minor characters are given an impressive amount of depth, and the script never gets jumbled or confused. This is a sharp contrast to Camelia la Texana, the show I’m currently watching: you don’t so much follow the plot, as desperately cling to it, as various groups of sideburn-wearing people scheme against each other. It’s also a contrast, in another way, to Viuda Negra, which was unashamedly about Griselda Blanco. In this case, the breadth of focus inevitably leads to a dilution of why we’re here, with poor Ana often sidelined.

This is a shame, since the heroine here is shown in the first episode, as fully capable of single-handedly taking out and/or down multiple villains with her skills. The mission here is much less direct: it’s very much undercover intelligence-gathering. She can’t kick ass, because that is not what social workers do: if she did, anyone who saw it would have cause to suspect Ana’s real identity and mission, immediately becoming part of the problem. So instead, there’s a lot more skulking around, trying to earn the trust of Eder, and narrow escapes from being caught by Velasco’s gang. After what we saw at the beginning, this passive approach seems like a sad waste of her law-enforcement talents.

This is the main reason for the relatively low score above. For in some ways, it’s the best of the shows I’ve seen, in terms of combining characters and plots in an engaging way. I’m impressed with the non-specific nature of the location, mentioning no particular country or city. The sharp divide between rich and poor, with the latter living in ghettos run by a largely criminal element, reminded me of the Rio favelas – I highly recommend you watch the amazing Elite Squad if you want a glimpse of the hellish life there. But I would imagine it’s equally likely to be Colombia, since that’s where the series was actually shot. The series does well too, in portraying the moral grey-scale: between Ana at one end and Angelito at the other, most making choices based on pragmatism rather than idealism.

There are a lot of interesting supporting characters: not so much Eder and Yago, who are fairly cookie-cutter in terms of being opposing romantic heroes, with dark, troubled (and somewhat shared) pasts. It’s mostly on the fringes of Velasco’s gang that all the fun is to be found. Cachalote (Julián Caicedo) is a burly thug with a surprisingly soft heart – he has an unrequited crush on the mayor’s daughter, formed during her kidnapping. Meteoro (Erick Leonardo Cuellar) is the gang’s drug chemist, though he looks and acts like a methed-up version of Giorgio Tsoukalos, from the Ancient Aliens show. Most notable of all is Michelle (Estefania Piñeres, right), a hard-nosed barrio brat who is more than capable of holding her own in the tough environment, and is ferociously loyal to her boss. She would have enough stories to tell for her own, lengthy series, I’ve no doubt about that.

However, as an action heroine series, it’s undeniably a disappointment: I was expecting much more focus on the central character, based both on Negra and the first episode. And, indeed, much more action. As a regular TV show, it would deserve a higher rating, likely a full star better, since I genuinely did enjoy it. It just isn’t quite the fit for the site which I was hoping to see.

Star: Ana Serradilla, Miguel de Miguel, Gregorio Pernía, Christian Tappan 

Even Lambs Have Teeth

  By

★★★
“Romy and Michelle’s Vicious Vacation.”

Katie (Skovbye) and Sloane (Prout) are teenage BFF’s, who head off to spend time on an organic farm – though their real goal is the weekend shopping in New York which will follow it. On the way, they are distracted by a couple of bits of prime young, rural manhood. But before you can say “roll in the hay,” they are drugged, the pair waking up to find themselves chained to duplex shipping containers, from where they are rented out as sex slaves to anyone interested. Their sudden dropping off the grid concerns Katie’s uncle Jason (Richards), who happens to be an FBI agent. He heads to the area to investigate, unaware the local sheriff is in on the plot. However, there’s only so far you can push a person, before they break. When Katie and Sloane snap, and escape, rather than heading for safety, they decide to stick around, so they can get thoroughly medieval on those responsible.

This could have gone thoroughly grindhouse, as is the usual approach in the rape-revenge genre. Credit Miles, therefore, for zigging in another direction, with the actual assaults far more implied than actually shown. This is something of a double-edged sword: there isn’t the same resulting sense of horror or outrage, but on the other hand, I’m always far more about the revenge half of the equation. As the review tagline above implies, the film also manages to be surprisingly light in tone, given the subject matter. That’s particularly the case in the second half. For instance, the ladies get the shopping spree they want – except, it’s in the local hardware store, picking up tools for their vengeance, rather than going down Fifth Avenue.

It’s also as much about the relationship between the two women, with the switch in their characters between the two sections. Initially, Sloane is the outgoing and dominant one; however, it’s Katie who instigates the switch from passive to active, and takes charge thereafter. When they were making up alternative personas for the trip, shortly before departure, let’s just say there were apparently good reasons why she chose “Ripley” as the name of her alter ego.

The main weakness is likely the overall sense of restraint, which unfortunately applies equally as much to the revenge – precisely the aspect which needs to be ramped up to 11. And, really, given the entire town is apparently in on it, including the police department, I was expecting much more of a reaction from the locals. Even when Katie and Sloane drive through town in a stolen truck, dragging the body of one victim behind them… nobody so much as notices. There’s not any sense of escalation either. Arguably the worst fate, happens to their first target, although some credit is due for imaginative use of a weed-whacker.

The results are all amiable enough entertainment – and that’s probably the first time I’ve ever used the word “amiable” in regard to a rape-revenge flick. If these lambs have teeth, this movie is more an affectionate nibble than a fully-fledged bite.

Dir: Terry Miles
Star: Kirsten Prout, Tiera Skovbye, Michael Karl Richards, Garrett Black

The Eagle Huntress

  By

★★★★
“Where eagles dare.”

No matter how bad-ass you are, you’ll never attain “13-year-old Mongolian girl, standing astride a mountain, holding the trained golden eagle she raised from a chick, after climbing down a cliff to get it” levels of bad-ass. That’s what we have here, folks, in this documentary about Aisholpan. She’s a Mongolian teenager who wants to become an eagle huntress, a profession traditionally reserved for the male lineage. Her father Rys learned the skills necessary (and, presumably, inherited the really large, very well-padded glove) from his father, and so on.

In the absence of a suitably-aged son, and given Aisholpan’s interest, Rys is happy to show her the ropes. Literally. As in the ones used to prevent her falling off the steep cliff-face she has to descend to pluck her eaglet from its home. For, as we learn, there’s only a brief period between the chicks being able to survive away from their mother, and them leaving the nest, during which they can be taken. We also discover, there’s apparently no word in Mongolian for “child endangerment.” There’s then the training process, as the bird grows up, for instance to get it to come when called. Though “politely asked” would be wiser than “called”. You don’t order around something like the full-sized and scary creature shown on the right.

The first dramatic moment is Aisholpan’s participation in the annual golden eagle festival, which takes place in a nearby (by Mongolian standards – it’s only a day’s ride away) town. She’s not only the youngest participant, she’s the first woman ever to take part. Some of the veterans and elders are interviewed, and are not exactly happy about it. Though their opposition doesn’t appear to go any further than mild levels of harumphing; it’s not as if there’s any active attempt to stop her participation. This could be because the film does seem to over-state Aisholpan’s uniqueness for the sake of cinematic drama. History actually provides much evidence for her female predecessors.

However, there’s still an enormous amount here to appreciate and enjoy, not least a plethora of panoramas, sweeping across the staggeringly beautiful Mongolian plains. You also get a new respect for eagles, creatures whose size is not apparent in the air, and only when you see one perched on the heroine’s arm, it’s razor-sharp beak inches from her eye. Then there’s Aisholpan herself, who clearly gives not one damn for any constraints “tradition” might want to place on her, and goes about her eagle-training business with an infectious smile. Oh, and she’s studying to be a doctor when she grows up. If she went on her rounds with an eagle on her arm, so much the better, I’d say.

Finally, we get to bask in the gloriously stunned silence of the elders, after Aisholpan has demonstrated her skills (and, admittedly, those of her avian familiar) at the tournament. They then point out that, well, anybody – even a girl – can do well enough in the comfortable setting of a field. She could never withstand the harsh conditions faced by real hunters, in the mountains. Guess where Aisholpan’s next stop is? Yep. She takes her bird and heads off into those mountains, through snowdrifts which reach up to the flank of her horse, to hunt foxes for their fur. In terms of teenage empowerment, it sure beats getting a tattoo and hanging out at the mall.

Dir: Otto Bell
Star: Aisholpan Nurgaiv, Rys Nurgaiv, Daisy Ridley (narrator)