Tag: i

Into the Dark, by J.A. Sutherland

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

Alexis Carew is a third-generation settler on the planet Dalthus, and the ward of her grandfather, her parents having been killed in an accident. But her future is murky, for Dalthusian law prohibits women from inheriting property, such as her family’s estates. With the alternative being a marriage Alexis really doesn’t want, the 15-year-old girl instead signs up to become a midshipman in Her Majesty’s Navy (or, at least, the space version thereof), on the interstellar sloop Merlin. However, this is largely just exchanging one set of problems for another, whether winning the respect of her colleagues, fending off the too admiring ones, or adapting to the harsh life of outer space – and, stranger still, the “darkspace” which facilitates interstellar travel. And then there are the pirates…

This isn’t the first SF/sailing combination to feature a female protagonist, apparently being quite similar to David Weber’s Honor Harrington series. The first volume of that is still sitting in my “to read” list, so while I can’t directly compare them, Werner has you covered for a review of Weber’s book. They definitely seem to have a mutual inspiration in C.S. Forester’s Hornblower series, with a futuristic spin. Here, I’m not certain quite how well it works: some of the sailing elements definitely seem forced, even with the hand-waving nature of “darkspace”. For it basically behaves in whatever way is necessary for the plot to be jammed into Sutherland’s nautical peghole.

That’s probably the main weakness: it’s one especially apparent in the early going, when Alexis first goes into space, until my brain seemed to get used to it. On the plus side, she does make for an admirable heroine, one who uses her wits more than her fists. As such, the action quotient is fairly low; there’s a steep learning curve here, for both Alexis and the reader, as we all learn the mechanics of how things work in this strange universe. When that is finally out of the way, the energy ramps up: in particular, when a ship captured by the Merlin, is being taken back to port with Alexis at the helm, when the captured crew mutiny and retake the vessel.

This sequence likely the action highlight of this first volume, the rest being mostly long-distance space battles. Though with war breaking out right at the end, it’s likely things escalate further in subsequent volumes. Although the supporting characters are nicely drawn, I could perhaps have done with more of an antagonist.  The nearest this book has to offer never meets Alexis directly – his son being the closest she comes. Again, I suspect this angle may be further developed down the road. There’s enough promise shown here to keep the door open to continuing the series. But I should probably read On Basilisk Station first, as I suspect one series of pseudo-aquatic sci-fi is probably enough!

Author: J.A. Sutherland
Publisher: Amazon Digital Services, available through Amazon, both as a paperback and an e-book
Book 1 of 6 in the Alexis Carew series.

In Darkness

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★★½
“Hard to see the appeal.”

I literally had to check at the end of this, to see if M. Night Shyamalan had been involved. Because rarely since the likes of Signs – or, worse still, The Village – has a final twist so completely derailed a movie. As soon as it happened here, I was immediately listing off the scenes previously which now made absolutely no sense at all. While it’s hard to provide more information without massive spoilerage, it turned a film which was doing not badly, into one which is a poster-child for poorly-conceived ideas.

Sofia (Dormer, who also co-wrote the script with the director) is a blind piano player, living in a London apartment. One night, she hears an argument in the flat above, and its occupant plummeting to her death. Turns out the victim was the daughter of an accused Bosnian war-criminal, Radic (Bijvoet), a man with a murky past and present, whose asylum status is being challenged. The hunt is then on for a USB drive containing incriminating evidence of Radic’s business dealings, with a brother and sister pair of “security consultants”, Marc and Alex, (Skrein + Richardson) heading the chase. Mark saves Sofia from Radic’s thugs, who believe she knows the location of the USB drive. But what is their agenda – and what is Sofia’s? For, as gradually becomes clear, her presence in the affair may be considerably more than coincidental.

This starts off impressively enough, taking you into the world of a blind person living in one of the world’s biggest cities, with some particularly effective sound design. The script is very cautious with its release of information, depicting things that aren’t necessarily explained for some time. Who is sending Sofia notes in braille, that she burns after reading? Or what is the significance of her tattoos, which are not what you’d expect from a classical musician. It’s all quite intriguing, We’re deep into the film before her motives become clear, and it may be too late. For by that stage, we’re already passed the point where people are acting in ways necessary to the plot, rather than that make sense to the viewer.

It feels as if Dormer saw one too many of those awesome Korean revenge films, and decided she wanted to make one while on vacation from Game of Thrones [She, Skrein and James Cosmo, who plays Sofia’s mentor, have all appeared in that show]. She just apparently forgot, those inevitably possess a razor-edged script, in which what drives a character is always kept front and centre. Here, by the time you are given sufficient reason to care about Sofia, you have already waded through too many scenes that are dead weight. Sometimes, this is because you don’t have the necessary information yet; in others, it’s just because the makers thought they were needed. None of which excuses the revelation in the last shot; it’s been while since I’ve come as close to throwing something (remote control, coffee table, dog) at the TV set.

Dir: Anthony Byrne
Star: Natalie Dormer, Ed Skrein, Joely Richardson, Jan Bijvoet

The Invincible Swordswoman

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★★★½
“Women are vicious. This is very true.”

We’ve previously written about Pearl Ling Chang’s mad Wolf Devil Woman: this is considerably more straightforward, yet is perhaps the better for it. The villain is General Ma Tang, who is imposing a brutal reign of terror on the region under his control, largely through his masked band of kung-fu masters. He ruthlessly takes out all those who oppose him, leaving the country in a state of fear. There remains a small band of rebels, who have evidence of Tang’s misconduct, but need someone who can take it to the authorities. The leading candidate is Pai Yu Song (Chang), a woman whose father was one of Tang’s victims, so has every reason to help, and whose martial arts skills are legendary.

Unfortunately, Pai has vanished, so before anything else can happen, she has to be located. There are quite a few people keen to do so, on both sides and even for entirely separate reasons. Leading them is the one-eyed Tu Yueh Pian, who still holds a candle for Pai, despite an unfortunate rape accusation which led to the loss of his eye. [Hey, it happens] Fortunately, there is an upcoming kung-fu tournament, to which everyone knows Pai is going to show up. The resulting sequence occupies a good chunk of the middle, and is impressive for its sheer scale, since the battleground is a gigantic set of spears and bamboo spikes, on which the participants must balance. Impalements ensue, for obvious reasons.

Finding Pai is just the first step. Even after she’s convinced to work with them, and is given the evidence, the journey is not without incident, shall we say. Indeed, the entire plot is more or less a saga of deception, impersonation and hidden agendas, right up to the final battle. There, we discover that Tang’s own martial arts skills are not be sniffed at. He proves capable of just about beating his opponents without even needing to get up from his throne, which whizzes around the palace courtyard like a kung-fu Dalek. This final battle is where everyone gets to show off their skills to best effect, and is embedded below.

Chang is largely notable by her absence over the first half, yet even when not on screen her presence is still a driving force, and when she shows up, there’s no denying her skills (there’s another heroine here, who is also good, and whose fighting triggers the quote at the top. I haven’t been able to locate her name for sure. It may be Frances Fong). That was something of a surprise, since Wolf Devil Woman didn’t exactly showcase them. Here, there’s no doubt, Chang is capable of holding her own, and makes it even more of a shame we don’t get more chances to appreciate them – there’s likely almost as much fighting screen-time for Tu. Still, one of the more impressive Taiwanese productions I’ve seen. The original title translates as “Cold Moon Orphan Star Needle Not Love“, and yeah, it’s kinda like that.

Dir: Chen Ming-Hua
Star: Ling Chang, Yuen Hua, Zung Hua, Chin Meng

Intensive Care

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★★½
“Nightmare nurse.”

I’m generally an easy-going guy with regard to plots in my action heroine films. Give me adequate amounts of ass-kicking and I’ll happily overlook most weaknesses in the storyline. I mention this, to stress I’m not a nitpicky kind of reviewer, who requires an Aristotlean level of logic from their movies. So when I say, there are major problems with the scripting here… There are MAJOR problems with the scripting here.

Alex (Macken) is a nurse, hired as a caregiver to the terminally-ill Claire (Easterbrook), when Claire’s only living relative, grandson Seth (Sizemore), turns up. He’s desperate to get into granny’s good graces and get his inheritance, because he is in deep debt to some dangerous people. Claire is not fooled at all by this sudden show of family feeling, and tells Seth where to go. He teams up with a pair of local hoodlums to rob the safe where grandma keeps her money – only to discover that Alex is far from the innocent caregiver she seems, and has a very particular set of skills. Skills she has acquired over a very long career. Skills that make her a nightmare for people like Seth and his crew.

This comes as absolutely no surprise to the audience, because of an opening sequence showing these skills on view in a gym before she heads off to take up her position. There’s hints of some defining experience in the Philippines – never expanded on, so you wonder why they bother. It would likely have been more fun if her talents had come as much as a surprise to the audience as the home invaders. The main problem, however, is the idiocy of everyone involved, which generates plot holes so gaping, you could sail an oil-tanker through them. Sideways.

Most obviously, we see early on how ruthless and vicious Seth’s accomplices are, killing a prostitute. Given this, there is absolutely no need for them to keep the captured Alex alive: she is in no way needed to help them open the safe. Yet, inexplicably, they do so, even after she learns their names and sees their faces. And repeatedly, both sides fail to press home an advantage when they get the jump on the opposition, preferring to exchange non-witty banter. This is especially unforgivable for Alex, who is supposedly some kind of ex-special forces reconnaissance type, someone whom you’d think would have precisely zero qualms about terminating an obvious, lethal threat, given the chance. And please do not ask me about the scene where Alex takes a bath… in her bra and panties. I hooted loudly about that.

It’s a shame, because Macken is rather good, whom I’d like to see more of (and no, not in the bra and panties sense…). If you’re a WWE fan, there’s something of the A.J. Lee about her, and the actual action sequences are well enough handled. She had a supporting role in Raze, so clearly knows her way around a fist. Indeed, this feels a little bit like an early entry in the career of Zoë Bell, back when she appeared in things that weren’t necessarily worthy of her talents. Hopefully, Macken’s career trajectory will improve similarly, to films capable of meeting even my low threshold for plot logic.

Dir: Jared Bentley
Star: Tara Macken, Kevin Sizemore, Jose Rosete, Leslie Easterbrook

In The Fade

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★★★
“Death wish, too.”

I spent most of the movie going back and forth as to whether or not this qualified for inclusion here. Was its lead, perhaps, just too subdued and reactive to be called an “action heroine”? It wasn’t until after the very final scene that I finally was able to decide it does merit a spot. Though make no mistake, this is a long, slow-burning fuse before it goes off.

The life of Katja Şekerci (Kruger) is torn apart when a bomb is left outside her husband’s office, killing both him and their young son. Initially, the cops suspect his past has caught up with him – he did time in prison for dealing hashish. While Katja believes otherwise, matters are not helped by Katja’s relapse into drug-use to deal with the pain. Eventually, she is proven right, and the police arrest a husband and wife pair of neo-Nazis (Hilsdorf and Brandhoff). They are tried, but the law fails to deliver the justice Katja wants, and she is forced to take matters into her own hands, despite the pleas of her lawyer (Moschitto) to trust the system.

As vigilante movies go… this one probably doesn’t. It’s instead divided into three acts: the first covers the explosion and its immediate impact; the second the trial; and the third what ensues thereafter, as Katja tracks down the perpetrators. In a more traditional genre entry, the first two would be disposed of in about 15 minutes, but here, they’re much more the focus. In particular, we see, in almost painful detail, Katja’s progress through the stages of grief – though it’s less a passage through them, and more a downward spiral towards a pitch-black version of acceptance. Indeed, she’s in the middle of a suicide attempt, filmed in disturbingly chill passivity, when she gets news of the terrorists’ arrests.

I have some issues with certain aspects of the plot. For instance, her conviction this was a terrorist attack, while eventually right, seems to come out of thin air. I’m also less than certain it’s quite as easy to make a bomb as is suggested [I’m pretty sure  – and certainly hope – that even looking up instructions on Google would quickly get you watched, especially given the circumstances here] However, her single-minded dedication to punish those she holds responsible, regardless of the personal cost, is striking, and there’s no arguments about the strength of Kruger’s portrayal either, which is excellent. You truly feel her grief, and this makes everything she does subsequently, a natural product of it.

Confucius supposedly said, “Before you embark on a journey of revenge, dig two graves.” This is a feature adaptation of that concept, with Katja more or less fatally wounded – at least, inside – along with her husband and child. This is not an uplifting film by any means. Indeed, it manages to become more depressing the longer it goes on, and considering the real starting point is a six-year-old being literally blown into pieces, that’s quite a feat. Not necessarily a bad thing, of course; although the net result is a film of merit, yet one I’m unlikely to watch again.

Dir: Fatih Akin
Star: Diane Kruger, Denis Moschitto, Hanna Hilsdorf, Ulrich Brandhoff
a.k.a. Aus dem Nichts

I, Olga Hepnarova

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★★★
“Czech, please…”

I am a loner. A destroyed woman. A woman destroyed by people… I have a choice – to kill myself or to kill others. I choose TO PAY BACK MY HATERS. It would be too easy to leave this world as an unknown suicide victim. Society is too indifferent, rightly so. My verdict is: I, Olga Hepnarová, the victim of your bestiality, sentence you to death.

Women who kill are rare. Women who kill multiple victims at once, without male associates, are rarer still. Among the few who have been recorded as such was Olga Hepnarová, a 22-year-old Czech, who in 1973 deliberately drove a truck into a group of people waiting for a tram in Prague. Eight were killed, and a dozen injured. The day before she had sent a “manifesto” explaining her actions to two local newspapers. As the extract above suggests, she saw herself as a victim, inflicting punishment on the society which she blamed for bullying her. Hepnarová showed absolutely no remorse, and became the last woman executed in Czechoslovakia, being hung in December 1975.

This is all historical and documented fact, but helps lend this feature version of Hepnarová’s life a bleak relentlessness. Presuming you’re aware of the story (and one imagines most of the Czech audience would be, if not necessarily those in other countries), you know exactly where it’s going to end up – with a short drop, though the film takes the specifics of that as read. So there’s no suspense to be had, and to be fair, that isn’t the point at all. It’s more about trying to get inside the mind of Hepnarová: how does someone get to the stage where committing an act of mass murder becomes not only plausible, it also becomes inevitable?

It was clearly a combination of factors. Olga displayed signs of mental illness from a young age, including a suicide attempt by overdose in her early teens, and as depicted here, has severe difficulty forming any kind of relationship – though the lack of effort she puts into them from her side is notable. She seems to stand outside the human race, at one point saying, “I can’t talk to anybody. I’m alone everywhere. People just talk and gather and laugh even at things I don’t find funny at all,” and later bluntly stating “The world has no value.” I’m not sure if her comments come from court transcripts, medical documents or were invented for the purpose of the film, but according to the makers, “We didn’t write anything that we didn’t know to be true – if we didn’t know it for sure, we removed it from our script.”

There’s no denying it sometimes packs a wallop – not least given events subsequent to filming, in Nice and elsewhere, with terrorists taking enthusiastically to vehicular mayhem for their own causes – and the blank nihilism in Olszanska‘s performance is chilling. But I can’t say any real insight into the psychology of her psychopathy feels like it was obtained. It’s clear she was bullied, and that was a factor, but what is offered feels like a facile simplification: hell, I had more than my share of being bullied at school, and didn’t kill anyone. There is eloquence to her own words, and I wish there had been more of this. For despite black-and-white cinematography which makes it feel like a contemporary retelling, rather than four decades later, the rest feels flat and largely uninteresting.

Dir: Petr Kazda and Tomás Weinreb
Star: Michalina Olszanska, Martin Pechlát, Klára Melísková, Marika Soposká

Infinite Waste by Dean F. Wilson

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

This initially seemed like a borderline entry, which I kept reading purely for entertainment. It’s about an exploratory star-ship, the Gemini, out on the very edge of known space, which comes across a giant barge, packed with nuclear waste and populated by a race of rat-humanoids, the Raetuumak. The Gemini is an appropriate name for the craft, as it’s effectively two separate ships, each with their own captain and very different approaches. Maggie Antwa, commander of Gemini Right, is a cautious scientist who abhors violence in any form, and was compelled to take on this mission after being involved in a environmentalist rebellion against the ruling Empire. Over in Gemini Left, on the other hand, Skip Sutridge is a square-jawed believer in shooting first and asking questions… well, never, to be honest. He has been sent to the fringes, probably to try and keep him out of trouble.

It doesn’t work. Skip finds himself captured by the Raetuumak, leaving Maggie to strap on the battle armour and rescue her co-captain. That’s not the end of the matter though, as they discover the barge is an interstellar weapon, aimed at the heart of the Empire. Worse still, is the creature made of pure shadow that stalks the corridor of the ship, absorbing the energy of anyone it touches: this is one of the Umbra, long since considered to be no more than the bogeymen of fairy tales. Not only is this belief incorrect, they’re now apparently returning from their exile to take on the Empire. Maggie and Skip will have to put aside their deep philosophical differences to deal with both this massive dirty bomb, and the Umbra.

It’s Maggie’s character arc which eventually qualifies this for here: she and Skip are complete opposites, who initially share only mutual loathing. Yet they eventually realize that neither one of their approaches will be sufficient to defeat this threat. As the book states, “He was sword and she was shield. Separately, they were vulnerable. Together, if they could ever find a way to really work with each other, they would be powerful beyond measure.” That’s really the core of the book here: the convergence on a middle ground which is able to make use of both their undoubted talents. It’s Maggie who drives this, with the solo rescue of Skip proving her courage and audacity, and forcing him to admit her abilities. Yet, she also finds that her long, deep-held pacifism has limits: after realizing the need to deal with the Umbra, “Perhaps for the first time in her life, the thought of killing something didn’t upset her at all.”

I have to say, the way in which it is eventually dealt with, was more than a little weak: if they’re so easily defeated, it’s hard to see how the Umbra could be any kind of threat to the galaxy. Yet, except for that moment, this was a strong page-turner. As mentioned at the start, kept me interested even in the early going, when its action heroine credentials were in doubt. Both Skip and Maggie are capable of carrying the story on their own, and the pairing of them is an effective combination. I’m intrigued to see where they go from here.

Author: Dean F. Wilson
Publisher: Currently only available as part of the Dominion Rising collection for Kindle.
Book 1 in the Infinite Worlds series.

It Stains the Sands Red

  By

★★
“Aunt Ruby goes on a trip.”

As the world goes through the zombie apocalypse, Molly (Allen) and boyfriend Nick (Mondesir) are elsewhere. Specifically, driving through the desert near Las Vegas, heading towards an airfield where they are going to catch a flight to Mexico – and, hopefully, safely. After their car gets stuck in the sand, Nick is attacked by a lone zombie (Riedinger), Molly flees on foot, striking out in the hopes of getting to the airfield, and pursued by the relentless creature. For it turns out the heroine is having her period, which allows the zombie to track her – and also lends a rather different meaning to the film’s title…

It’s the kind of idea which would have made a strong short film, but falls apart when stretched to feature length. To reach that duration, the story has to bolt on all manner of additional elements, most of which don’t work, while also leaving some gaping plotholes, through which an entire army of the undead could stumble. For instance, there are moments where the zombie is just feet behind Molly; then, in the next scene, she’s far enough ahead to be able to stop for a snooze. Given she seems to have no athletic ability and is clad in shoes which are as far from desert-traversing footwear as imaginable, it feels as if she’s teleporting ahead of her pursuer. Similarly, when she reaches her destination, the script is flipped, and this coke-snorting bitch suddenly becomes a devoted mother, desperate to return to Las Vegas and be re-united with her child. It’s a startlingly unconvincing development.

The aspect that perhaps works best is a surprising one: the relationship between Molly and her pursuer, in particular after he saves her from an unpleasant fate. It’s largely unwitting – just his nature in action – and requires more suspension of disbelief in the way he suddenly can apparently enter stealth mode. But it adds a nice wrinkle, albeit one which is rapidly discarded for the film’s change in direction over the final third. There, the film abandons any effort at inventiveness, and returns to the same furrow which has pretty much been ploughed into the ground [admittedly, where you would expect to find a furrow] by the multitude of zombie films, TV shows, books and games churned out over the past decade or so.

To the makers’ credit, they did at least realize they needed to find something new, a different direction which would help their creation stand out from the walking dead crowd. It’s unfortunate they managed to screw things up in almost every direction once they got past that decision, beginning with a heroine who is startlingly unlikable for the vast bulk of its running time. At one point, she whines at her pursuer, “You’re like every guy I’ve ever met a bar!” I couldn’t help thinking, that’s the kind of comment which says more about the person making it, than the target. You might find yourself rooting for the zombie.

Dir: Colin Minihan
Star: Brittany Allen, Juan Riedinger, Merwin Mondesir

I Spit On Your Grave 2

  By

★★★
“Model prisoner.”

This sequel is almost entirely unrelated to the original, beginning with a new, fresh character who will be tortured within an inch of her life, before escaping and roaring back for revenge. However, it manages to be a little more coherent, even as it replaces the redneckophobia of the original, with much more straightforward xenophobia.

The victim here is Katie Carter (Dallender), a wannabe model who takes advantage of a free photography portfolio session, offered by sleazy, Eastern European cameraman Ivan (Absolom) and his assistant, Georgy (Baharov). The latter becomes obsessed with her, and won’t take no for an answer. When Katie’s screams alert her apartment building’s caretaker, he’s stabbed by Georgy, leaving Ivan to clean up the mess. Still, it’s nothing that a large crate, stamped “Bulgaria”, can’t solve… When Katie discovers what’s awaiting her in Sofia, she’ll wish she’d been the one left in a pool of blood.

The narrative here is a bit more coherent. For instance, an early scene establishes that Carter is no shrinking violet, being a Midwest girl who knows a thing or two about hunting vermin. We also get to see more of the period between her escape, and her returning to take action – she survives with the help of a kindly local priest. He’s about the only Eastern European character here who is not an utter scumball, and in that aspect, I was reminded a fair amount of the first Hotel movie.

Initially, I thought it was going to spend the entire film in New York, and that might not have been a bad thing. Monroe is good at capturing the “urban jungle” aspect of the city, in much the same way as Abel Ferrara. There are a number of elements early on that brought Ms. 45 to mind, with that classic of the rape-revenge genre also having a sequence in a photographer’s studio. Dallender has the kind of willowy steel look as Zoe Tamerlis, too. It’s a shame it didn’t retain that approach, instead of becoming some kind of cautionary tale about foreign travel.

Once it leaves that setting, however, and scurries off to Sofia, the film becomes less interesting, more or less going down the same path as the original. Indeed, some of the beats are exactly the same, e.g. the heroine appears to find sanctuary in an authority figure, only to have that yanked away from her. Some of the resulting unpleasantness is hard to watch – please note, I’ve seen more than my fair share of cinematic nastiness, so I do not squirm easily – and that applies on both sides of the brutality. But its impact is never more than a visceral shudder. To be truly effective, it needs to pack an emotional punch as well, and in the main, that’s not present. It’s technically solid, and that may be part of the problem; it perhaps should be a little less polished, and rougher around the edges, in line with the content.

Dir: Steven R. Monroe
Star: Jemma Dallender, Yavor Baharov, Joe Absolom, Aleksandar Aleksiev

I Spit On Your Grave

  By

★★½
“The Hills have thighs.”

Having been pleasantly surprised by I Spit on Your Grave 3: Vengeance is Mine, I thought I should rewind and catch the first two films in the series, see if they were also above expectations. Sadly, the answer is “not really”. The first, in particular, suffers as a direct remake of the notorious original, directed in 1978 by Meir Zarchi (originally released, to little attention, as Day of the Woman). It fails from our perspective for much the same reasons, mostly through being more interested in the rape than the revenge. Though there is a certain, nasty inventiveness to the latter, which salvages the final third.

Writer Jennifer Hills (Butler) moves into to a remote cabin she has rented, in order to have peace and quiet while she pens her next book. Before she has even arrived there, she has crossed paths with the local rednecks, a trio led by Johnny (Branson). Things escalate from there, until the trio – along with the “developmentally-challenged” local plumber, burst into Jennifer’s house, and brutally assault her. She manages to flee, seeking sanctuary, only for things to go from bad to worse. But she is just able to escape with her life, falling into a creek and vanishing from her assailants.

At this point, she effectively vanishes from the film as well, which is part of the problem. There’s a logical gap here, in need of explanation. Who takes care of her? And if she’s working on her own, how is a skinny little thing like Jennifer, whose background is entirely in writing (rather than – oh, I dunno – construction), capable of dragging around the unconscious bodies of the men as she takes her revenge? I mean, she suspends one of them up in the air, dangling over a bathtub like a trussed chicken. That’s not trivial. I did enjoy the imagination in the savage vengeance, which does surpass that of the original. We get a face dissolving, fish-hooks and the ol’ rape by shotgun. Jennifer is not messing around, shall we say.

It’s a shame the film didn’t emphasize the intellectual angle a bit more. Initially, it seems that Hills’s brain is the threat to the locals, who have no idea how to handle or even interact with someone who is clearly their mental superior. However, any efforts in this direction are rapidly abandoned, in preference for her simply being physically attractive. Post-attack, too, it doesn’t really appear she’s using her brain, so much as feral cunning. It certainly does go a long way to explaining how royally screwed-up Jennifer is by the time Butler revisited the character (under a different director) in Part 3. Yet, it’s also clear that the lengthy depiction of the abuse suffered by the character does as much to detract from as emphasize the reasons for that damage.

Dir: Steven R. Monroe
Star: Sarah Butler, Jeff Branson, Daniel Franzese, Rodney Eastman