Tag: four-star

The Killing

  By

★★★★
“Happy ends are for losers!”

Spoilers will follow! At one point, Scandinavian noir, was a genre mostly well-known only in Europe and to die-hard crime novel readers. But the ground-breaking female characters who have made the genre recognized worldwide in the past two decades consists of a trio. In addition to the most well-known, Lisbeth Salander of the Millennium series, there is Saga Norén of Bron: The Bridge, and Sarah Lund of The Killing. All of these have been remade in a number of other countries – not only America. But I think it’s uncontroversial to say that none ever came close to the originals. There is something to the way these series are constructed and conceptualized by our Scandinavian neighbours, that film crews in other countries just can’t re-create.

It’s not just, for example that American productions have higher budgets. Other, non-American remakes or “new versions” aren’t able to re-create that special “air” either. It’s a specific atmosphere these series have, even though those in charge of production usually understand the attraction of the original. Although Scandinoir existed well before those three series. Elements like more realistic depictions of criminal acts, very often with social aspects interwoven, and investigators with personal problems, can be traced in literature back to the 1960s, and on television to the 1970s and 80s. A realistic local background with more down-to-earth investigators, as opposed to classic Anglo-American super-detectives like Sherlock Holmes, or private investigators like Philip Marlowe, started around then, and can still be found in long-running classic German TV crime series, Tatort (literal: “scene of the crime”).

Though before these new shows, some starring some quite “damaged” women, hardly anyone except die-hard fans of crime stuff noticed. The show that served as a wake-up call for everything was The Killing. This Danish-German co-production ran for three seasons, from 2007-2012. [It seems whenever there is a new Scandinavian crime series, ZDF, the second public TV channel of Germany, is involved. They also co-produced the Millennium and Bridge shows, among other Scandinavian series.] The original version totalled 40 episodes of 55 minutes; some countries broadcast it as 20 episodes of around 110 minutes. The German version was like that: you always can tell the break between episodes, by the two-minute montage, with music underneath. It received a number of remakes, in America, Turkey and Egypt.

As typical for these Scandinavian shows, they are slow-burn mysteries. This means taking their time, introducing countless suspects and going far beyond the case, such as adding a political dimension to the scope. I was astonished to discover they did really only cover one case for an entire season. In an average episode of Tatort the case would be solved and finished after the usual 90 minutes. Here, it takes longer – much longer! – especially in the first season. It started to drag a little bit, as solving the single case of a vanished girl lasted almost nineteen hours on screen. That said, the longer experience definitely has its advantages.

For perhaps the first occasion, the suffering of the family members left behind after a beloved person dies, is shown in what feels like almost real-time. That’s remarkable, as in almost any crime story I have ever seen, these feelings are usually only vocalized in one or two sentences. Just recently, I watched an old Italian giallo and it felt almost ridiculous how the main character seemed hardly moved at all, as her entire family was exterminated, one by one. Is such behavior normal? Normal people mourn their beloved ones. Maybe some do it more quietly than others, but most movies or series leave this, very important, aspect out, with it usually secondary to finding the perpetrator. The Killing takes that time, showing us the after-effects on a family barely able to go on, needing psychological help, and taking pointless, misguided revenge, with acts that can’t bring back what has been lost.

Admittedly, they might have gone on in this direction a bit too much – especially in the first season, which is twice as long as the others – and I was starting to look at my watch. Though things are always happening, you may lose a bit of patience as yet another suspect is presented to you. What, they are proven innocent? Okay, how about this one? Oh, and there is new evidence, it might actually have been the one we let off the hook last episode! And so on.

In all three seasons, a pattern of political involvement is found. For example, a pool car belonging to a political party might have been involved in a kidnapping, with the story taking place in the run-up to elections. Suddenly, the whole process of parties in electoral battle mode can be affected by the outcome of the investigations, as well as individuals’ dirty laundry being brought up by the other side or the police. One of the main politicians in the first season is played by Lars Mikkelsen (Mads’ brother), who’d go on to play a great villain in the Benedict Cumberbatch “Sherlock” show. In other seasons, the police have to deal with other institutions and organizations hampering their work, such as the military or the secret service. The third season deals with a major industrial corporation, as the company chief’s daughter is kidnapped and might be held in one of his shipping containers.

But the main character is always the introverted police commissioner, Sarah Lund (Gråbøl). Lund doesn’t come across as the most accessible character, to say the least. It’s a character trait she shares with her sisters in spirit, Salander and Norén. Though of the three, she might be the most “normal”, and her biggest problem an inability to communicate. Maybe it’s too cold in Denmark, and you don’t want to open your mouth if it’s not necessary? She can be quite talkative – when it’s about the case. But it’s always about the case and not her family. In season one, Lund’s fiancé and son wait for her to come to them in Sweden. Though she wants it, there is always something. Her superior insists she has to continue her work, as the only one who can, despite her successor already waiting in the wings. Even after boarding the plane, she returns once again to solve crime for another day in Copenhagen. Then everything changes when her colleague gets shot.

She gets smarter in the second season, now carrying her gun with her at all times. This will save her life at the end of the series, which deals with a series of murders of former Danish soldiers. Sometimes you can’t solve everything just with your mind! But there is always an apparent lack of social competence. Lund doesn’t seem to understand the emotional needs of her family (and others) and that’s why she loses them. The case is always more important for her. She becomes quite obsessive in her investigations – even after everyone, including her new chief Brix (Morten Suurballe) sees a case as solved. You thought Columbo with his, “There is still a little question I have…”, could get on your nerves? Wait, until you meet Sarah Lund!

There is a learning curve and character arc for the character. She is hesitant to come back to work in season 2, and in season 3 realizes that she has failed, not only as a mother but in her social life in general. She would like to have a closer relationship with her son, but he doesn’t want anything to do with her anymore. She manages to take care of his pregnant girl-friend, though even in front of the hospital room where the girl and her son are holding her newborn grandchild, she still turns around because… Well, you know… The case… Ultimately, the show can be seen as a tragedy. Yes, the cases all get solved in the end. But that doesn’t mean that we get a truly happy ending.

Season 1. The father of the murdered girl kills the murderer, and will most likely go into prison for that. Season 2. The minister of justice uncovers the corruption of the ruling government, but can’t do anything against it, as everyone is covering it up. He can only decide between joining them, thereby keeping his career, or quitting. Season 3 is the worst of all. While the kidnapped girl is saved, the industrialist must remain silent about the cover-up of his board of directors, in order to keep the company going. Meanwhile, Lund finds out who raped and murdered another girl years ago, and sees no alternative but to shoot the murderer. The ending has her leaving her home country, perhaps to return one day with new evidence to justify the killing, instead of finally getting together with a past love from her youth (Kass, who would later enjoy success as Jussi Adler-Olsen’s Carl Mørck).

As there never was a fourth season, she might still be searching that evidence abroad. But happy endings certainly look different in Scandinavia. After all is said though, this is a good show with great and convincing actors. You can enjoy its complex story-lines, its gritty, sometimes almost cynical, world view and darkness, if you are willing to be patient and have enough time. The second and third seasons are much easier to watch than the first. The Scandinavian approach to crime series is definitely different one from what other European or American series offer their audiences. But if you get used to them, they can be quite addictive as this show showed. On its release, The Killing became especially successful in Great Britain, which might then have drawn the attention of American producers in this direction.

It started the new wave of Scandinavian noir in 2007, which seems to have lasted for about a decade, ending ten years later in the Hollywood adaptation of Jo Nesbø’s The Snowman, with Michael Fassbender as Harry Hole. But if you are in the mood for more psychologically damaged, Scandinavian, anti-heroines, you’ll find plenty of others, such as Annika Bengtzon or Rebecka Martinsson. There are also reports that Amazon Prime is planning a new show on good ol’ Lisbeth Salander. Who knows, maybe the era of troubled Scandinavian female investigators isn’t over yet?

Creator: Søren Sveistrup
Star: Sofie Gråbøl, Søren Malling, Mikael Birkkjær, Nikolaj Lie Kaas

Candy Land

  By

★★★★
“Remy is feeling a little cross…”

Sheesh, they’ll adapt anything into a movie these days. Hey, I guess if Clue, Battleship and Ouija can become films, why not Cand… Yeah, to be clear I am joking. Do not, for the love of God, mistake this as about the quest for King Kandy. Though I am amused the Wikipedia page for the game specifically says, not to be confused with this film. For it’s actually about truck-stop hookers being stalked by a murderous psychopath. Which could, I admit, probably be adapted into a pretty decent board-game. The central character is Remy (Luccardi), an escapee from a religious cult, who finds herself stranded at the truck-stop, and befriended by Sadie (Quartin) and the other “lot lizards” there.

Remy eventually becomes part of the “team,” also including gay-for-pay Levi (Campbell), who service the truckers who pass through the high-altitude location – as well as local sheriff Rex (Baldwin). It’s a tough life, with violence a risk they face on an everyday basis, such as when a trucker shows up in a toilet stall with his throat slit, or someone decides Levi is a bit of rough. However, things escalate considerably, because the problem is: you can take the girl out of the cult, but you can’t take the cult out of the girl. After getting a visit from another member, Remy decides, as she puts it, “We must cleanse the world before we can cleanse ourselves of it.”

No prizes for guessing what that means, as if the poster doesn’t make it abundantly clear. Swab manages to do a decent job of straddling the exploitational and the thoughtful. This certainly doesn’t stint on the nudity, from the first scene which sees Sadie riding her client like she was trying to start a fire, through one of the girls taunting the cult leader by opening her legs in front of him. It’s pretty damn gory as well. But it’s not just mindless sex and violence. For instance, it would be easy for Swab to paint the victims as… well, just victims, but they’re depicted as there, and doing this work, of their own choice and free will.

I did feel that the shift from religious advocate to prostitute to spree killer for Remy was a bit abrupt. A little more time for the transition might have helped, or perhaps making her more clearly dedicated to her lethal cause from the get-go. Yet the way things turn out, perhaps indicate that was the case all along. Credit to Swab for not pulling punches either, with things continuing to escalate and the body count continuing to mount until, literally, the final shot. Hardly anyone here gets out alive, and I was left wondering if the religious fundamentalists had won. There’s a lot of films while look to recreate the bygone grindhouse era. This seeks to look forward instead, and is likely all the better for it.

Dir: John Swab
Star: Olivia Luccardi, Sam Quartin, Owen Campbell, William Baldwin
[This review previously appeared on Film Blitz]

Sniper Goddess

  By

★★★★
“Spot on target.”

The Chinese title is 狙击之王：暗杀, which Google Translate informs me translates as “Sniper King: Assassination”. I don’t want to assume anyone’s gender, but I think I’m going to go with the alternate title above, as more appropriate, over the one on the poster. Because there’s no doubt about the amazing talents possessed by Anna (Yang), for whom a shot at three kilometers range is barely an inconvenience. We get right into the action with her being committed as a psychopath after begin captured, following her assassination of a drug lord. Yet another drug lord, actually – she has a deep hatred of them, for reasons we eventually discover, and has been taking them out with regularity.

It’s not long before someone tries to kill her in the psychiatric facility, but she’s able to escape (somewhat), with the help of struck-off former doctor, Nasipan (Tao). However, she is forced, with the aid of a nano-bomb injected into her bloodstream, to take a mission for Artest (Mak). There’s a war of succession going on in the country of “Libiwala”, with the prospect of drug production becoming legal in the country – to the joy of crime boss Roger (Lee). Artest requires Anna to liquidate all those in line for the leadership to prevent this. Or maybe encourage this. It’s all a bit murky, and the plot twists and turns until the very last scene, though never gets incoherent.

This one captivated me inside five minutes, with the hellacious firefight in the asylum, culminating in Anna sniping a sniper right through their scope. The action doesn’t let up for long thereafter, with some excellent set pieces involving both weapons and hand-to-hand combat. For the latter, Artest probably gets the bulk of it. But on the opposing side is a henchwoman who makes Gogo Yubari look like the picture of mental balance (I think she may be played by Guo Muhan, but I don’t recall hearing her name), and cuts a striking figure in her long blond hair and sword. It’s just one of the numerous things this film gets right, including occasional moments of comedy that genuinely made me laugh out loud, the movie winking at its own excesses. 

It’s simply a fun experience, with characters you can get behind, and an impressively strong anti-drug message. All the players are given depth to their roles, and the chance to develop them. Even the little kid, playing the third in line to the Libiwalian throne, is not irritating – and that’s high praise coming from me, as far as child actors go. All told, this is one of the most purely enjoyable ninety minutes I’ve spent of late, easily surpassing bigger budget films like Cleaner or The Gorge, and given my expectations, is likely going to be the most pleasant surprise of the year. The whole movie is embedded below. Take five minutes to check out the opening sequence, and see if it hooks you as well as it hooked me!

Dir: Huo Sui-qiang
Star: Yang Xing, Henry Prince Mak, Tao Tao, Lee Dong Hyuk
a.k.a. Sniper King: Assassination

Black Doves

  By

★★★★
“Never bet against black.”

This was my favourite new television show of 2024, and might have been my pick overall. It’s a very strong mix of action and drama, with a fabulous cast of characters. I think I might have to go back to the first season of Killing Eve to find anything as good in our genre, and it’s not dissimilar in other ways too. Helen (Knightley) is married to Britain’s Minister of Defence, Wallace Webb (Buchan). But unknown to him, she is a Black Dove, mining information from him to pass on to her handler, Reed (Lancashire), for sale to the highest bidder. She’s also having an affair, but her lover is killed, along with two others, in murky circumstances. 

Reed calls in her top assassin, Sam (Whishaw), to protect Helen, fearing she might also be targeted. He has a history with Helen, dating back to before the birth of her children with Wallace. Things spiral out of control, involving the suspicious death of the Chinese ambassador, his missing daughter, a previous hit Sam botched, and Helen’s relentless pursuit of revenge, while trying to keep her family life intact. It’s a lot of balls to keep in the air, but the script does a fine job of avoiding confusion, with the wrap-up proving particularly admirable in its clarity. While I’ve read complaints about it being implausible, I have definitely seen worse. There’s room for both this, and more grounded spy shows like Slow Horses.

If you’re looking for strong female characters, there are a slew here, beyond Helen and Reed. Indeed, it feels like the entire underworld, criminal and intelligence, is run by women, while the “above ground” apparatus is male-dominated. The one I liked best was acerbic Irish killer Williams (Ella Lily Hyland), whose loyalties are uncertain at first. However, all the supporting cast are solid, and the relationship between Helen and Sam is among the best non-romantic ones I’ve seen recently between a man and a woman. Should mention: Sam’s gay. Very gay, to be honest. This annoyed the people that always annoys. But to me, it didn’t feel done for DEI purposes, or get in the way of the story.

It has been a while since we have seen Knightley here: Domino was the best part of two decades ago. Since then? Some slight sword-waving in the Pirates of the Caribbean franchise, and that’s about it. However, they do a good job of making up for lost time [note: she is not pregnant for the bulk of her action, despite the picture!] There are an especially good pair of fights against assassins sent to take her out, the second of whom is a self-professed big fan. Williams and her female partners also unleash hell, though in her case it tends to be more bullets than punches. A critical and popular success, a second series was already commissioned before the first had aired. If it can maintain the same high standard – unlike Killing Eve – there’s a good chance it’ll be among the best of… well, probably 2026. Can’t wait.

Creator: Joe Barton
Star: Keira Knightley, Ben Whishaw, Sarah Lancashire, Andrew Buchan

Dominique

  By

★★★★
“Ukraine 1, Colombia 0.”

We’ve been keeping an eye on the career of writer-director Ojeda since Savaged, more than a decade ago. We last saw his work with The Russian Bride, which shares the same star in Orlan, but I do feel the pieces have finally come together. Sure, this is imperfect. However, the positives are pretty damn impressive, and as a throwback to the action golden era of the eighties, this is close to spot-on. It begins with a plane crash, as the aircraft piloted by Dominique (Orlan) is shot down in rural Columbia by the local cartel. Their effort to loot the wreckage goes wrong, because Dominique is not dead, and quickly demonstrates the skills she had in a previous life as a Ukrainian assassin. 

She was badly injured in the crash, and ends up taking shelter in the small town of San Lucas, at the home of police officer Julio (Carvajal) and his family. He’s gathering evidence against his corrupt boss, Chief Santiago (Compte), who’s working with the cartel. When Julio is exposed, Santiago decides an example must be made of the informant, wiping out not just his employee, but his entire family. The only thing standing between them and annihilation is Dominique. After she successfully repels the initial assault, she has to fortify the family home, and prepare to fend off everything Santiago can throw at her. Which is a lot of cannon fodder. Most of it tactically inept, I must say.

The character work in this is strong, on both sides. Santiago is spectacularly evil, to the point he could have been a caricature. Yet Compte’s performance keeps it just human enough to be truly scary, due to his complete disregard for life. On the other side, Orlan keeps things very subdued, to the point of seeming dead inside, due to past trauma. Is this limited acting range? Or a very subtle performance? Could be either. In any case, it works, tiding the viewer over until the extended eruption of violence, which occupies most of the movie’s second half. As noted, it does rely on the attacking forces underestimating their opponents, to put it mildly. But Ojeda mixes the combat up nicely, and it’s a blast to watch.

The ending. Hoo-boy. It does one thing right, both brilliant and terrible at the same time. But it then bails out, what should have been the climax, is literally run underneath its end-credits. This is a brave choice by Ojeda. It didn’t work for me, and I’d rather have seen one final spasm of ultraviolence from the heroine. That it still was good enough to get our Seal of Approval says something. If it had sealed the deal, the movie could have ended up making my top ten for the year. It remains a film I enjoyed watching, and would definitely not mind seeing Dominique in action again in future. Or whatever Ojeda comes up with: I’m down for that too.

Dir: Michael S. Ojeda
Star: Oksana Orlan, Maurice Compte, Sebastian Carvajal, Alanna De La Rossa

The Killing Complex, by K.G. Leslie

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

There’s something to be said for sparse simplicity, and this delivers on that concept in spades. Except for occasional flashbacks, the entire things takes place in one location: a facility somewhere in Europe. It’s where Cassie ends up, locked in a cage, after being abducted while on a trip from Britain, intending to find herself. She’s then deposited in a hall and made to fight for the amusement, gambling or whatever of online spectators. She starts off facing animals, but through pharmaceutical treatment, her strength, speed and savagery are enhanced, and the opponents – both fauna and, eventually, her own species too – become more vicious. The shock collar around her neck ensures her compliance.

In the early going, much of this unfolds inside Cassie’s head, as she goes through what perhaps seems inspired by the five stages of grief, from rejecting the reality of her predicament, through anger, and ending up in a personal commitment to do whatever is necessary in order to survive – even if this comes at the cost of her own humanity. But just when she’s on the edge of becoming a soulless killing machine, she’s relocated, and placed next to another prisoner, Thomas. He was also abducted, but more recently, so hasn’t been ground down by his situation yet, and his optimism reignites Cassie’s own interest in life. But is everything quite what it seems, or are there other agendas at work?

Without giving them away, there are a couple of very effective twists here, which I did not see coming – and, indeed, I defy anyone to say they did. The first is something of a cheat, considering how much of the time to that point has been Cassie’s internal monologue, and this has carefully hid a key piece of information. But the second works particularly well, because it demonstrates that the bad guys here aren’t stupid: Carrie is going to need to do more than bludgeon her way out. Good though she certainly is at that, as is proven repeatedly. This isn’t a book for animal rights activists though, with Cassie working her way up from herbivores to the top of the food chain, in addition to her human opponents.

I do wonder quite why the people are wasting the remarkable drugs, which help Cassie survive massive damage as well as enhance her fighting abilities, on an inter-species fight club. I’d have said the military-industrial complex would pay better than Fanduel for that stuff. But sadistic perverts gonna pervert, I guess, and so here we are. By the end, I was galloping through the pages, staying up well past my usual bedtime to do the dreaded “one more chapter.” It does end on something of a cliffhanger: usually that’s something I don’t like, but I didn’t feel like I’d been sold half a story here, and can definitely see further entries appearing here down the road.

Author: K.G. Leslie
Publisher: Self published, available through Amazon, both as a paperback and an e-book
Book 1 of 3 in the Killing saga.

A Certain Scientific Railgun – S

  By

★★★★
“Bigger, stronger, faster, better!”

Have you ever had this experience? There is a series you see and the series is fine, okay, solid. But without you noticing, you connect with these characters subconsciously, on an emotional level. As you watch them regularly, you get accustomed to them (though they are totally fictional) and don’t realize it until something happens, and you suddenly feel how much you have gotten attached to them. It’s not a new experience for me. It happens from time to time, but not often enough I would call it a rule, every time I watch a new TV show. Usually, I just passively experience the respective episodes and don’t waste much thought on it, least of all any kind of emotional investment.

It’s strange – at one point, when you started watching movies and series, you felt a strong emotional connection to everything, but today, it seems mostly gone. This does not only has to do with becoming a grown-up and seeing a lot more, but maybe also filmmakers and storytellers having forgotten the art of getting you emotionally involved in their plots and characters. But I have to say: A Certain Scientific Railgun got me, despite initially thinking I didn’t care much at all for the series. The show had been a satisfying, quite well told combination of “Slice of Life”-episodes, with some action-filled SF-arcs.

While for some. these “SoL” eps were unnecessary annoying filler episodes, I didn’t mind them. They provided additional colour to the big picture. I also was well aware I might not be the target audience: the Index series is the one supposed to be for the boys. Also, I went in without any specific expectations, always an advantage. Principally, I liked what I had seen, so had no problems with paying for another season. While sometimes things were maybe a bit too kawai for me, and the antics of a character like Kuroko Shirai could get on one’s nerves, the series was overall well thought-out, put attention into the details, and I enjoyed the emotional dispositions of the four girls, who all had their own character.

The next season arrived and… was even better?! Sure, it’s a subjective opinion, but I personally think the emotional investment I already had in the show paid off. The new season (from 2013, three years after the first was released) seemed to start like its predecessor: The girls going to school, spending time in their company, Kuroko abusing Mikoto… same old, same old, one might say. If one likes a season of a show, a new season is like meeting some good old friends again after a while. Then, the story starts to develop slowly… First in tiny steps that are hardly remarkable. There is a special art in storytelling when you are able to build up a story-line from small events to a big pay-off, when something finally can come to fruition and blossoms in a big climax.

People like Hitchcock, or some of the best action directors, know how to do that, but today I think it is virtually secret knowledge. I would certainly not have expected to find it in a Japanese anime, where you can be happy if one’s intelligence simply isn’t being insulted too much! It begins relatively harmlessly. Somebody claims to have seen Mikoto Misaka (our title-giving “scientific railgun”, thanks to her coin trick), but Mikoto wasn’t there at all. Then it happens again which leads to the girls talking about having a doppelganger, and eventually to the very interesting question, which forms the premise of this season: “What would you do, if you had a clone?”

Another strange thing occurs. Somebody is leaving envelopes containing money in small, dark side-streets, leading to people going on their own treasure hunt, and Mikoto & Co. try to find out who’s doing that and why. The story constantly builds and you slowly realize that you are paying much more attention to the show then you ever did before.  When Mikoto finally meets her doppleganger, it’s initially almost a shock. It leads to questions: who is the girl, why is she behaving so strangely, and where does she come from? Mikoto indeed has “sisters”. Actually, a lot of them. And these girls are part of an unethical and inhuman experiment.

The series really managed to grab me here totally, and part of it is due to the way the story is constructed, something I mentioned when reviewing the previous season. We grow attached to Misaka over time, and care for what she is going through emotionally. I don’t know what I would do if I met my clone, but I guess I would be quite angry about somebody stealing my identity and misusing my genetic map, which is something Misaka also feels. But there is something unexpected happening. While the Misaka clones appear a bit strange and speak about themselves in the third person, they are instantly likable and cute, it’s shattering to find out what kind of role they have to play in an on-going “experiment”. It was quite a shock, at least for me who came along with no idea of the evil hiding in the shadows (I’m not spoiling that here!).

Again, much of the effect of the series lies in its careful combination. On the one hand, you have cute school-girls doing harmless girly stuff: studying, social services, sitting in cafés, mocking each other, searching together (as happens in one episode) for a four-clover-leaf in a green field. Then, suddenly, a hole of darkness opens where very evil people do very evil things, with hardly any remorse or justification for their acts. The contrast makes this story shocking: in another darker show, it would have been your typical, average stuff. Here, I almost got the feeling I’d watched an anime written by the Brothers Grimm! While we have seen much worse, it’s the combination of different elements that makes this work so well.

Unfortunately, our protagonist makes the decision to play Batgirl and solve the problem alone, without her friends, which I found a bit questionable. The climax of the previous season had shown how effective these four girls are when working together, and this can also be seen at the beginning of this season. But I guess as the so-called “sister-story-arc” was also already featured, albeit briefly, in A Certain Magical Index, the writers here were bound to how events played out in that series. It doesn’t look good for our little railgun: She experiences fear, despair, helplessness and pain. It’s quite some time since I saw so many relatable and believable emotions in an animated character.

It’s always nice when a powerful character is “cut down to size”: it adds realism to any story. Fantasy and SF stories should have rules and powers should have limits. And 5-level esper Mikoto, who in the past was not above bragging about her incredible electro-talents, experiences these, physically as well as emotionally. We look differently at our protagonists when they are not the strongest kid on the block anymore. Here, we meet megalomanical, sadistic villain Accelerator, who is more than a match for Mikoto. But then, Misaka is not totally alone; for there is still Touma Kamijou, the protagonist of A Certain Magical Index, the boy who wanted to protect Misaka previously and whom she challenged to a power-fight. Maybe he can help?

There are interesting aspects here. Do super-powers make you susceptible to arrogance, because you start subconsciously to feel superior to everyone else? It’s something the powerless Saten worried about in the first season before meeting Mikoto. The character of Kongou, a level 4-esper is like that (though she becomes more sympathetic this season), as is another level 5-esper introduced at the beginning of this series. You calso remember the many, many times when Mikoto used her powers carelessly in the past. To paraphrase Francis Bacon’s famous sentence: if power corrupts, do then superpowers corrupt…um, superly?

It’s a thought, albeit never directly articulated here, and is definitely evoked when watching this story. We also get a brief look into Accelerator’s past: he has a reason why he does what he does. Once again, the show manages to give us some understanding as to the villains’ motives. It delivers a much more layered approach than just telling us, as so many stories across so many media do: this guy is bad, and has to go! It makes the show more well-rounded, the stories much more satisfying, characters more ambivalent and therefore – if I may use the word – realistic. Also, kudos to the writers of these stories for applying the laws of physics in a logical, and well-considered manner!

After this very well-built, suspenseful story arc, running from episode 2 until episode 16, I can understand why some felt the remainder of this season was a bit of a letdown. While we get another arc, the new one can’t quite compete with what happened before, though is decent on its own merits. For a while, we go back to small stories of the girls getting together and the usual jokes like e. Saten pulling up Uiharu’s skirt to embarrass her. Yes, that’s a thing. It’s alright by me. After you have clashed with the Big Bad, it’s absolutely fine to have another episode where your heroines are in a hurry to bring a cake to a meeting, where they drink tea and say goodbye to a friend who is moving away. It’s the “slice of life” aspect: if you are in for the meal, you have to eat the vegetables, too!

This season is not perfect; nor was the previous one. A possible flaw is it becomes almost a one-girl show with Mikoto on her own and her friends reduced to side characters e.g. Kuroko constantly worrying what is up with Mikoto and where her best friend spends her nights. Fortunately, this is corrected in the second story arc, dealing with Febri, a little girl who is the subject of an experiment herself. Mikoto finally learns she not only has good friends, but to take help when it’s offered. The power of friendship can even deal with very well-equipped forces of the dark and shady “underworld” in Academy City. These little lessons of morality integrated into the show, definitely leave a feel-good-feeling at the end.

Finally, we even learn about the motivations of some of the villains in the background. In a city where all those highly-enabled people are the focus of everyone’s attention, the “normal” people, regardless of how ingenious they may be or how hard they work, have hardly a chance of ever getting their spot in the limelight. Being constantly neglected can make you do very terrible things. But again: not everyone working on the side of the bad guys is necessarily an enemy and Mikoto gets her “Will Graham vs. Hannibal Lecter”-moment, so to speak! Once again the arc is well-built and develops the sensitive, emotional touches which make the show more than the usual action.

It ends in a very satisfying finale which sees almost everyone, including second-tier characters, join Mikoto’s final battle against the evil scientists’ group. There’s still a deadly satellite in orbit that could destroy Academy City unless Mikoto and Shirai get up there and blow it up in time. Shouldn’t be a problem for Mikoto, the city’s famous railgun, right? Watching this series felt for me a bit like seeing Kim Possible in an X-Files plot, spiced up with some great action from a Hollywood blockbuster. Though I could have done without the show’s main musical theme playing, once again, over the battle scenes during the finale. Here the producers really should have invested in some action music!

Some questions remain. What exactly will happen to the almost 10,000 “sisters” of Misaka? Are there other powers in the shadows we have not seen yet? Or is Academy City now free of big criminal-scientific organisations? Will Misaka get together with Touma? Probably not, since in his own series he has quite a harem of female followers. And what is with her obsession over that frog? Stay tuned, for J. C. Staff, the studio behind the show, also produced a third season, which came out a good seven years after this one. At least something good that came out of that terrible year! So, let’s continue…

Dir: Tatsuyuki Nagai and others
Star (voice): Rina Satō, Satomi Arai, Aki Toyosaki, Kanae Itō

Griselda

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★★★★
“Calor blanco”

This is far from the first time we’ve covered films, series or documentaries about Griselda Blanco, the drug boss who ruled Miami with a lead fist in the eighties. There was Colombia narconovela La Viuda Negra. Lifetime TVM Cocaine Godmother, starring the not exactly Colombian, Catherine Zeta-Jones. And there was factual retelling, Queen of Cocaine. Now, we get the highest-profile version, made by Netflix and starring probably Colombia’s best-known actress. Albeit best-known for her role in long-running sitcom, Modern Family. We saw her here previously in the underwhelming Hot Pursuit, but this is a very different kettle of fish. Concern was understandable. Would she be up to the dramatic lifting required for such a heavy and complex role?

Yes. That’s the short answer. She does a fine job of depicting a character whose defining trait, in this rendition, is single-minded determination. It’s an aspect apparent from the start, where she flees her abusive husband in Medellin. Griselda arrives in Miami with her three kids, and little more than the clothes on her back. Oh, and the kilo of top-shelf cocaine, swiped from her spouse. Through sheer refusal to take no for an answer, she finds a buyer and convinces him to give her a shot [she meets him in Miami’s Mutiny club – Chris was actually a member there back in the day!]. When he stiffs her, she reels in a Colombian supplier, convinces him to front her 100 kilos, then creates her own market and network of dealers.

It’s kinda inspiring, weirdly. Early on, the series can be seen a twisted version of the American dream, where an immigrant can come to America, pull themselves up by their bootstraps, and anyone can achieve success if they work hard. The reality is, Blanco didn’t arrive in Miami seeking asylum from domestic abuse, but fleeing increased law-enforcement heat for drug trafficking in New York. Not exactly what Vergara described the show as, depicting “How beyond all odds, a poor uneducated woman from Colombia managed to create a massive, multi-billion dollar empire in a male-dominated industry, in a country that was not her own.” You go, #girlboss! #slay!

Often literally. For her chosen profession here is thoroughly illegal, and the hard work involves ordering brutal violence against your rivals and enemies. This might be a cause for concern. But who are we to quibble? The makers have said they didn’t want to make a hero(ine) out of her. Neither did Brian de Palma, and yet, you can buy Scarface T-shirts. The market decides for you, and the way it depicts the violence for which Blanco is responsible seems more like an attempt at plausible deniability. It’s the usual double standard of Hollywood: making disapproving noises, while also depicting Griselda strutting glamourously out of the Mutiny, blood spattered on her cheek from a recent victim. 

Griselda has a strict zero-tolerance for anyone who thinks she is a soft mark because she’s a woman. Especially in the early part of her career, was quite willing to wield a baseball bat or gun to that end. Later on… well, she had people for that sort of thing. But as we head into the second half, things get progressively darker. Griselda starts to become paranoid, suspecting the people around her – an attitude not helped by her taste for smoking crack. She believes there’s an informant in her circle, and takes brutal action against those who she thinksit might be. Things peak at a birthday party for Dario (Guerra), her third husband. It ends in Griselda letting loose with her gold-plated MAC-10 (top).

The irony is, there’s no informant: just good police work. For on the other side of the law, the series gives us June Hawkins (Martinez, bottom), intelligence analyst and detective in the local police force. She was also a real person, one who played a significant role in the pursuit and capture of Griselda, being one of the first to realize a woman had taken over the drug trade in Miami. I suspect her role was likely inflated somewhat, in order to act as a counterpoint to her target: co-creator Doug Miro admitted about the character, “There’s a fair amount of artistic license.” That applies to the whole series, though I’m not inclined to complain.

It is a fairly straightforward rise-and-fall, charting first Griselda’s path up to the top, when she was earning $80 million per month. This is followed by the slow but likely inevitable collapse, as her business rivals and law enforcement catch up with her. We know how the story eventually ends – in a pool of blood outside a Medellin butcher’s shop. The series doesn’t bother going all the way to the end. It finishes with Blanco released from jail, sitting on the beach. But it’s not a happy ending, having just been told that she has lost almost everything for which she worked: three of her four sons have been murdered. Conventional morality wins out in the end.

In terms of production value, this is definitely several slices above the other efforts, even if Los Angeles stood in entirely for Miami (the latter no longer resembling what it was at the time). Of particular note is the make-up work on Vergara. It must have been a challenge, because events unfold over a significant number of years: your lead is, obviously, more or less fixed at a point in time. Initially, there’s little of note, but it gradually builds up, in a way that’s so subtle you might not notice. Until, by the end, you suddenly realize the character no longer looks like the actress. Though still rather prettier than the real Griselda.

I highly doubt this will end up being the final or even the definitive version of the Griselda Blanco story. The last surviving son, Michael Corleone, filed suit against Netflix, and reports indicate he has his own version of the family story he would like to tell. For now, however, this is the best adaptation of her life. If obviously skewed towards a questionable message of feminist “empowerment” which the makers wanted to send, Vargas’s strong performance holds the strands together and makes for a captivating experience. 

Dir: Andrés Baiz
Star: Sofía Vergara, Alberto Guerra, Martin Rodriguez, Juliana Aidén Martinez

Wolf Creek: season one

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★★★★
“The dark side of Crocodile Dundee.”

Here is a confession: I have never seen the acclaimed two Wolf Creek movies (2005 and 2013 – a third movie is planned). The reason was simple: I just didn’t care for ultra-cruel slashers from Australia. After watching this TV-spin off I might revise my opinion and catch up with them; if they are as good as this TV series I definitely want to see them!

So, what’s the story? The American Thorogood family is on holiday in Australia. Unfortunately for them, their young son is swimming in a crocodile-infested lake (who goes swimming in Australia? Don’t we all know their waters are full of deadly animals?). Fortunately for them, Australian animal hunter Mick Taylor (John Jarratt) arrives, right on time, to shoot the crocodile before it can attack the boy. Unfortunately for them, Mick is a psychopathic sadistic serial killer who kills them all before the evening is over, including daughter Eve (Lucy Fry). Or so he thinks, because Eve survives. As she is slowly nursed back to health, and answers the questions of the police, she comes to the realization that the authorities won’t be able or willing to catch the killer.

She decides to hunt Mick herself and take revenge for the death of her family. Eve is originally innocent, and carries feelings of guilt, since her family was only in Australia because she was recovering from drug addiction – she used to be an athlete. She has to learn to get along in a hard, merciless country by herself, and avoid or defeat the criminals, thieves and would-be-rapists there who pose a threat during her journey. Eve is pursued by the police, as she herself has broken the law, and also by a well-meaning policeman who wants to help her. Not to mention Mick who – happily slashing his way through unpopulated areas – has realized that someone is pursuing him and starts to play a cat-and-mouse-game with Eve…

I have to say that this series really surprised me. I had bought it based solely due to the cool cover photo and didn’t expect much more than a probably over-gruesome third-rate slasher, I mean, is Australia really famous for great serial killer psycho thrillers? Though there is the very good Stacy Keach and Jamie Lee Curtis thriller from 1981, Road Games. As a matter of fact, this short (six episodes) series blew me away with its astounding quality. When you read the above, you might be forgiven for getting the impression the whole thing will come across as a bit cheap in its storytelling, or the motivation of its characters – a bit schlocky in general.

But… it isn’t.

The best way I can describe the show is with the word “unpretentious”. That might sound strange. Yes, it is, at its core, a revenge story. And, yes, people are tortured and killed in cruel ways: when someone has an infected hand, you see him cut it off with a saw. But I never got the feeling these scenes were gratuitous or to make the blood-thirsty gorehounds happy. Quite the opposite: things like this are carefully integrated into the narrative of the story, and have a meaning that goes above mere shock value. I would almost call this story, about a serial killer tracking his prey across desert hunting grounds, decent and yes, even tasteful – considering how different this narrative could have been presented.

Most surprising for me was, though big game hunter Mick is always looming in the background, it’s mainly Eve’s story. In the beginning I wasn’t too impressed with her. She seemed like a bland, pale character, just a victim who survived a catastrophe. I was half expecting her to become the usual superwoman, who knows it all and can do everything better than every male – thanks, mister! But the filmmakers were smarter than your average Hollywood screenwriter and producer, who nowadays seem only to be able to create one-dimensional, flawless, conveyor-belt manufactured heroines. Eve does not know it all, she can not do it all alone, and makes mistakes – some really terrible. She fails and learns from it. She falls and has to stand up again. It alone makes the character better than almost 95% of today’s female protagonists in American movies or shows. Kudos for that!

Also, there is a second season, which I have not seen yet (it isn’t available in my home country). Given it has everyone’s favourite killer from Down Under again, but not Eve, I began seriously to worry about her fate. You really start to sympathize with her. Running away from the police in the beginning might be anything but rational, but as the series develops, so does she. You start to understand who she is, and she gets a backstory: she is not a random female character out for revenge anymore. She has these understandable feelings and more than once I thought: “Gosh, this could be going different, girl. You should be working together with the police. There could be common ground if you were not so stuck on the idea that you’ve got to do this all on your own!”

Then there are moments when she realizes herself she is way over her head, fighting insurmountable odds. She gets better at it, slowly, and the point in a way is about self-discovery. It becomes an odyssey for oneself, where the protagonist has to question when reaching the nadir of life: What am I standing for? Why do I do what I do? Is it really worth all that? Could I choose a different life? There are moments that indicate that Eve might give up her hunt. The series repeatedly contrasts her persona with other characters who have lost themselves, who may have been destroyed by this vast open country where you seem to be far from civilization or God.

Eve is repeatedly confronted by these criminals, or wanna-be-rapists who see a normal dressed woman as an offer, and experiences family tragedies that actually form the core of the narrative. She is not without help though. As well as the policeman on her trail who reluctantly starts to cover-up for her, there is a criminal whom she meets in the desert, an old Aborigine who fits into the classic mentor role, a colleague in a bar and she even gets a canine companion. Though the question always lingers while watching the show: Will she get her revenge? What will she do when meeting the man who killed her family? Does she even have a chance against an experienced, sadistic killer like Mick?

So, yes, I applaud Lucy Fry’s performance in the role. Thanks to an excellent script, it made me believe she – albeit slowly- becomes a potential threat to the seasoned serial killer. But also John Jarrat, playing this role for a third time, is incredibly good. Mick Taylor is a nightmare of a character, superficially charming, but essentially a disgusting sleazebag. Though it’s great even he has been given a backstory. While he kills the way other people drink their morning coffee, we get to know enough about him to deduce how he became that way. An episode tells us in flashback about a key event in his childhood that may have been the catalyst for his murderous doings. If this is believable is up to the viewer, I think. I like it they gave him more than the “Well, he’s insane” explanation so many movies and shows tend to give their killers nowadays.

Having Eve faced with what can only be labelled as a devil in human form, touches an even more ambitious question. It’s a theme that classic The Hitcher (C. Thomas Howell and Rutger Hauer) dared to ask. How much of your own humanity do you have to leave behind, to be able to fight the devil? I think it refers to the age-old Nietzsche-ism “If you gaze long enough into an abyss, the abyss will gaze back into you.” I’m not saying how this “psycho thriller” ends, but I really, really recommend this show. Every episode had me glued to my TV, and I got much more enjoyment out of this short Australian TV show than I imagined. Also, I think it’s far superior to your average American product playing in the same genre pool.

I really feel I should get my hands on season 2, even though the main actress won’t be back. Also, I look forward to the third movie – and I wish you happy hunting! 😉

Creator: Greg McLean
Star: Lucy Fry, John Jarratt, Dustin Clare, Jessica Tovey 

Jericho Ridge

  By

★★★★
“Assault on Precinct 1.”

After a year which has been filled with disappointments and films which have failed to generate much reaction beyond a mild “Meh,” it’s nice to see one which certainly surpasses expectations. Indeed, with about two months left to go in 2023, this would certainly be a finalist for GWG Film of the Year, were there to be such an award, and potentially could walk away with that hypothetical trophy. It’s the kind of movie which, even when you know exactly what’s about to happen, still delivers in a way that can generate an undeniable reaction. Considering my expectations going in were not much more than the made-for-TV level – this being a BET channel exclusive – it surpassed those greatly.

The heroine is Tabby Temple (Amuka-Bird), a deputy in a small, rural North Washington town (albeit one entirely faked in Kosovo!). She is just heading back to work following an extended lay-off due to a broken ankle. The reason for this injury is not immediately clear. Nor is the reason why she is no longer a chief deputy, but it appears to be something to do with her troubled teenage son, Monty (Morris). She returns to find the police station in some turmoil, due to a burglary the previous night, while an investigation is also under way regarding the murder of a local drug dealer. Sheriff Eddie Reynolds (Kunz) goes out to visit a suspect, leaving Tabby behind, to guard domestic abuse prisoner Earl Macready (Socha), and await the arrival of a locksmith to install new station locks.

It’s here things go very badly wrong, with Tabby discovering there is apparently something in the station that a certain party is prepared to go to any lengths to obtain, with the burglary being just the first step in that process. She finds herself under siege, and severely out-gunned, the station’s armoury having been stripped almost bare. Local help is… not going to help, shall we say, and the state variety won’t get there for some time, leaving Tabby to try and survive until they do. The unexpected arrival of Monty during a lull in proceedings, only heightens the stakes, and also forces mother and son to confront the truth about their fractured relationship, and how it became that way.

But this is not s touchy-feely emotional drama, to put it mildly. Once it gets going, this is a relentless assault, which sees Tabby go from a quiet, almost passive observer, into a fully-fledged warrior queen. Amuka-Bird is quite excellent in both parts of that dual role, being entirely plausible as both devoted mother and unstoppable force. And she needs to be, because the villains are just as brutal in their approach. The film also does well with passing out the necessary information to the audience, doing so in its own time, despite a couple of scenes which do feel rather too obviously expositional. In general though, this does a great deal without the need for stars or big production values. Story, performance and crisp execution are all on point instead, and the results are all the better for it.

Dir: Will Gilbey
Star: Nikki Amuka-Bird, Zack Morris, Simon Kunz, Michael Socha