Tag: l

Louisiana Longshot, by Jana Deleon

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

A Goodreads friend gave this novel (the first book in the author’s Miss Fortune Mysteries) five stars, which put it on my radar; and I downloaded the e-book edition when I discovered that it’s offered for free, as a teaser for the series. While my rating isn’t as high as my friend’s, and I didn’t expect that it would be, I did turn out to like the book somewhat more than I expected to.

Our protagonist and first-person narrator here is “Fortune” Redding. We’re not told her real first name (“Fortune” is the handle she’s used to answering to, but it’s indicated, well into the book, that it’s a nickname, short for “soldier of fortune”) or her exact age; but she’s worked for the CIA for eight or five years, depending on which figure we go with, since we’re given both in different places. (I took the first one to start with, so picture her as about 30, joining the Company just after college.) The affiliation was a natural one for her; her father, with whom she had a prickly relationship, was a top CIA agent, and after his death when she was 15, her remaining teen years were overseen by a couple of CIA officials, one of whom is now her boss. (Her mother had died years earlier.) She’s a seasoned assassin (of verified baddies), with a VERY long list of kills to her credit, and zero compunctions about her line of work. But she’s neither a psychopath nor a moral nihilist; on the contrary, she’s basically a kindhearted person (albeit an emotionally-constipated loner with no confidential friends), who sympathizes readily with those in danger and distress.

That trait got her in trouble on her latest mission. It wasn’t supposed to be a hit; she was simply posing as the glamorous mistress of a drug dealer, delivering money for him to a Middle Eastern crime boss. But (as we learn along with her, at the debriefing in the first chapter) her meeting was compromised by an unknown leak in the CIA, who’d tipped the bad guys off as to who she was. They’d decided to test the tip by setting up a situation where she’d have to act to try to rescue a 12-year-old sex trafficking victim, figuring that she could then easily be dealt with, since she’d come unarmed. Unhappily for them, Fortune’s quite adept at improvising a weapon when she has to; though she doesn’t care much for high heels, she dispatched the head honcho with a stiletto heel on the shoes she was wearing, and got away clean, presumably with the 12-year-old. (We learn about this only in a terse second-hand report; I’d have loved to read it in real time!) Now, the deceased’s brother Ahmad, also a big-time crime lord, has put her picture all over the Dark Web, with a million-dollar price on her head (ten million, if she can be delivered to him alive to be tortured).

If Ahmad can be taken out, the contract on her will be moot, but in the meantime, she needs to be stashed in a safe place –and one that can’t be compromised by the unidentified leaker. Luckily, her boss’ niece, librarian and former beauty queen Sandy-Sue Morrow, just inherited a house in Sinful (population 253) in the bayou country of southern Louisiana from a newly-dead aunt on her mother’s side. The two weren’t close; Sandy-Sue has never been to Sinful, and she has no social media presence due to a stalking incident years ago. With summer just starting, she’s scheduled to go down there to inventory the house’s contents and prepare it for sale. Before the very unwilling Fortune can say “culture shock,” her boss has packed the real Sandy-Sue off for a summer in Europe, and our heroine is in route to Louisiana to hide under this new identity. It’s only supposed to be through the summer months; and in a small, quiet southern community, nothing’s apt to go wrong, right? But the flooding caused by a recent hurricane unearthed and moved a lot of debris in the backwoods, and on Fortune’s first evening in town, the late aunt’s dog fishes a human bone out of the bayou behind the house. It proves to have belonged to a very wealthy, and universally hated, town resident who disappeared some five years ago….

As mysteries go, this one is not deep or in some respects very plausible, but it is entertaining. Despite the author’s use of a humorous tone in most of it –though it has its serious moments, some of them deadly so (literally!)– it’s not really an example of the “cozy” subgenre, nor even of the broader stream of more “genteel” who-dunnits in general. That tradition features more actual detection in terms of sifting physical clues and witness statements, and eschews directly-described physical violence. There’s little of the former here, and definitely some of the latter in the denouement. (Action-heroine fans may be pleasantly surprised to find that Fortune’s combat skills won’t necessarily have to go to waste in this new environment!) But the mystery of who killed Harvey Chicoran doesn’t necessarily have an immediately obvious solution (many characters, and no doubt readers, may assume that the widow did it –but did she?). There will be twists and turns in solving it, and Fortune’s involvement in that effort will provide her –and readers– with challenges, adventures, excitement and danger.

A weakness of the book is that a lot of the humor exaggerates the quirkiness and peculiarities of the Louisiana bayou country’s rural inhabitants to the point of caricature. It plays to stereotypes that too many urbanites have about the South, and rural people in general, which reflects culpable ignorance of cultures outside their own. Fortune herself is a prime example; she seriously wonders, for instance, if the community she’s going to has electricity. (Rolls eyes profusely.) She also has a tendency to reduce women with Sandy-Sue’s background to despised, stereotyped “Others.” Some characters, like the members of the Sinful Ladies Society (membership is only open to “old maids” or widows of 10 years standing, to avoid contamination by “silly man thinking”), are steeped in misandry, and Deleon views that as funny. This is mitigated to a degree by the fact that she’s native to the region (which I’ve visited) herself, does reveal some basic affection for it, and depicts it with some realistic local color; and by the fact that she does portray a couple of male characters positively. There are also a few inconsistencies that should have been caught and edited out.

On the positive side, this is a tautly paced book that keeps you turning pages, or in my case clicking frames (I read the first two-thirds of it in one sitting, and could and would have read it all if time had allowed!), with a tightly-compressed plot that unfolds in less than a week. Even if you disagree with some of Fortune’s attitudes, she is honestly likable, with a wryly humorous narrative voice that’s appealing (at least to this reader). She exhibits a willingness to look at herself and grow through exposure to new experience, which I like; and I appreciated the strong depiction of female friendship and loyalty. There’s a certain amount of bad language here, mostly of the h and d-word sort or vulgarisms, but not much profanity and no obscenity; and there’s no sexual content nor any romance at all (though I understand that a romance develops in subsequent books in the series). While Fortune describes herself, though not out loud, as a “heathen” (when she’s informed that everybody in Sinful who’s not one of the latter attends one of its two churches), and some humor based on the foibles of the church-goers, there’s no actual pushing of an anti-Christian agenda.

I only read this book as a diversion, because it was free; I don’t plan to follow the series. But I don’t regret making Fortune’s acquaintance, nor visiting her in her new-found community. :-)

Author: Jana Deleon
Publisher: Self-publihed; available through Amazon, both for Kindle and as a print book.
A version of this review previously appeared on Goodreads.

Love Lies Bleeding

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★★★
“‘Roids and rage.”

In a trans-continental coincidence, both Dieter and I ended up watching and writing our own, independent reviews of this. At least we agreed on the three-star rating!

Well, you might or might not like the way this ends… However, you certainly will remember it. Credit director/co-writer Glass for apparently deciding to live (or die) by the mantra, “Go big or go home.” Literally. It’s in line with a general feeling she doesn’t want to take the easy options at any point here. It doesn’t always work. Boy, does it not. However, I respect the approach. It takes place in a small New Mexico town towards the end of the eighties, where Lou (Stewart) is a gym manager, a lesbian and the estranged daughter of Lou Sr. (Harris). He is a gun-range owner with a very shady sideline in arms dealing, and a desert ravine into which his enemies vanish.

Things are upset by the arrival in town of Jackie Cleaver (O’Brien), a bodybuilder on her way to Vegas for a contest. The two begin a passionate affair, in which Lou also introduces Jackie to the dubious joys of steroid use (though I’m fairly certain these do not work in quite the way depicted here). Lou has another situation, in that her sister Beth is trapped in an abusive relationship with her husband. Jackie decides to take care of this problem for Lou. However, doing so causes more issues than it resolves, not least in that it brings down law enforcement heat on Lou Sr. as the most obvious suspect. Dad demands his daughter fix things, causing Lou to threaten to expose her father to authorities.

It’s all a very grubby take on the lesbian-noir genre, whose best-known example is probably Bound. Stewart seems consciously to be trying to break out of her Twilight reputation, though results so far have been mixed. At least this isn’t the Charlie’s Angels reboot, so for that, we thank her. It is not exactly subtle in its gender depictions: every single male depicted here is violent, though it’s interesting how Glass embraces the view that violence is the only solution, too. Though it’s complex: Jackie declines a gun, saying “Anyone can feel strong hiding behind a piece of metal. I prefer to know my own strength.” Let’s say, that’s not a position she maintains throughout.

O’Brian, who was a bodybuilder before turning to acting, and has a black belt in hapkido, certainly has the physical presence needed for the role. I was less convinced by Stewart, feeling as if her character was stuck in a permanent sulk. The failure to establish her as likeable leaves the relationship with Jackie feeling implausible: if Lou has hidden depths of appeal, they’re apparently buried at the bottom of the Marianas Trench. The decision to wander off, on a number of occasions, into territory closer to David Lynch than the Coen Brothers is one I would not have made, personally, and is likely to alienate a significant number of viewers. A straight (pun not intended) telling of the story would have been preferred. But you do you, Rose. You do you.

[Jim McLennan]

Today on the menu: Lesbian thrillers! Somehow this seems to become the new “trend-du-jour” as a new sub-genre. This year already saw the Ethan Coen-directed lesbian crime comedy Drive Away Dolls and the novel adaptation Eileen with Anne Hathaway. Lesbian-themed movies seem to have come a long way since movies such as Desert Hearts (1985), Thelma & Louise (1991; hey, stop, were these two actually lesbians?) or Fried Green Tomatoes (1991). The difference today is that films can be more direct in their depiction of whatever they want to show. Whether this is really an advantage, is up to the individual viewer. Rose Glass (Saint Maud) shows in her second theatrical movie that she can keep up with male directors of bloody thrillers. The film was a co-operation of British TV Channel 4 and American studio A24, which seems to be building a reputation for slow-burn horror movies.

Principally, the movie is a modern film noir (think Coen brother movies minus the humor). But it also could be called a film soleil, like the French 1980s subgenre of film noir, with most of the story playing in broad daylight. O’Brian and Stewart give good performances, which is satisfying because my usual problem with Stewart is that in most of her films, she almost seems like she is sleepwalking. But not here. I don’t have much to say about Ed Harris who is great and convincing in anything he plays. For me the secret star of the movie is Anna Baryshnikov (yes, the daughter of ballet dancer Mikhail) as the ill-fated ex lover of Stewart’s character.

The film has a strong sense of style, though for me it felt more like the mid-80s than the end-80s. A feeling of unhealthiness permeates the whole film, be it Stewart’s constant smoking (while listening to tapes telling her how unhealthy cigarettes are), the use of drugs to build up muscle tissue, or Ed Harris growing caterpillars and beetles. The relationships of the characters here, be they familiar or otherwise, also feel rotten. It’s definitely not the ideal family promoted by the Reagan administration in the 1980s (But then, in 1989 Bush Sr. was president).

It seeks to comment on the abnormal body cult of the eighties, the decade where hypertrophic heroes like Arnie, Sly and Dolph became big stars – though female bodybuilding is still a thing today (Julian Sands’ last movie before his untimely death dealt with the subject). Also, the characters here seem weird and far from sympathetic: everyone is sweating all the time, Harris with his long hair, Stewart looking as if she is permanently on drugs. They all look like people one wouldn’t necessarily want to meet. Then there is Jackie: while never directly said, it’s implied her erratic behavior is the result of the drugs that Lou gave her.

Glass doesn’t shy away from the ugly or disgusting. One of the first scenes show us Stewart cleaning a clogged toilet (remember the scandal when Hitchcock showed us a clean toilet in Psycho!). Later, we see a body whose jaw is broken into pieces, O’Brian vomiting up Stewart in a hallucination scene and Harris eating a horned beetle. If you are a fan of beautiful pictures this movie might not be for you! Some scenes reference typical Hitchcock or classical thriller suspense scenes, like Harris looking for his son-in-law in his flat while Stewart hides in the closet, or FBI agents interrogating Stewart, when there’s a corpse behind her couch

But not everything works: for example, Lou and Jackie hooking up so quickly was not very believable. But what do I know? I’m neither American nor was I out of puberty in 1989. At the same time I never thought that Jackie might be using Lou for her own advantage, as the movie wants me to believe. So, yes: the characters in the script needed more effort to work. Glass uses some interesting techniques to enhance the creepy atmosphere. Some scenes have a distortion effect with slow motion, very bright lights, coloring e.g. Harris filmed with a red light, and disturbing sound effects. Unfortunately, she spoils otherwise competent work with a final scene which feels as if it would fit better in a fifties sci-fi film than a thriller? Whose perspective is it supposed to be? It might have been meant as a feminist or lesbian empowerment message, but logically makes zero sense.

For me the big deal breaker is the end scene: After telling her father she is nothing like him, Lou completes a murder Jackie didn’t finish. In a way, she is indeed like her father: The same way he tried to protect her out of love, she protects her new found love. Not long ago The Marsh King’s Daughter showed a similar “like father like daughter” scenario. Not that I liked Lou much before: she appeared constantly angry, snappy, possessive, vindictive and irrational. But when she kills a virtually innocent person to secure her relationship, she becomes totally unsympathetic. Probably a great role for an actress but you cannot expect an audience to sympathize or even identify with such a character.

In classic Hollywood noirs, dark-hearted anti-heroes would pay for their crimes. Among many examples, Fred MacMurray getting shot for his sins by femme fatale Barbara Stanwyck in Billy Wilder’s classic Double Indemnity (1944). Heck, even Thelma and Louise paid with their lives for a more or less accidental killing. In modern films it seems if evil is done by women, film makers are reluctant to give them the punishment they deserve, and let them off the hook. I find such story-telling hypocritical and highly questionable: what message is being sent to an audience?

It is okay to commit crimes if you don’t get caught? Killing an innocent is justified in the name of love? Female characters should get off for crimes every man in every movie would be killed for? It seems to be a double standard – I just call it inequality. If you want equal treatment, take it all, including the negatives. No, cherry-picking allowed. Please don’t call me morally sour: I had for example no problem with that famed lesbian noir, Bound (1996), a film where “Love Lies Bleeding” stole some of its ideas from, directed by the Wachowskis. There, the two heroines got away with a murder and theft but they had to defend themselves from a mad angry mafioso. This is different and feels different.

Ah, you want to know about the sex scene? Unfortunately, there is hardly anything mentionable to see here. The short scene is quickly cut and over before you can blink. Audiences are better served erotically either with the aforementioned and superior, though less stylized Bound, or Italian giallo films of the 1970s which seemed more open to  showing sexuality or nudity than modern American movies. But what can you expect, with the new guidelines in movies which require “intimacy coordinators”, primarily so the production won’t be sued. I now feel a great need to watch Basic Instinct again!

So, what’s my conclusion? Well, the film is definitely watchable, a very stylish modern bloody film noir. And if you want to see a movie with lesbians or involving bodybuilding, you might not want to skip it. But its unsympathetic characters prohibit a second viewing or a whole-hearted recommendation from me.

[Dieter]

Dir: Rose Glass
Star: Kristen Stewart, Katy O’Brian, Ed Harris, Anna Baryshnikov

Legacy of the Lost, by Lindsey Sparks

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

Cora Blackthorn’s teenage life has been severely hampered by an untreatable condition, which triggers a severe, painful reaction any time she has physical contact with another human being. She spends her live sequestered on Orcas Island, off the coast in the Pacific Northwest, but has found solace in the world of online gaming. Her mother, however, is a globe-trotting archaeologist, explorer and… well, let’s be honest, tomb raider. [Small letters, please, to avoid copyright suits] Then, Mom vanishes, the only clue being a cryptic package she sent back to her daughter. Cora now needs to come out of her seclusion, with the help of childhood friend, ex-soldier Raiden, and travel to Rome and the catacombs under the Vatican, in search of the truth about both what happened to her mother, as well as Cora’s own origins.

For, it turns out, there”s quite a lot going on. Top of the list is that Cora is not of this Earth, being an alien embryo, part of the race who were known in ancient history as Atlanteans. who was implanted in her mother after she stole it from an ancient Catholic order, the Custodes Veritatis, and is now coming into her ancestral talents, based on the genetic material from her ancestor, an Atlantean called Persephone, which include all of Persephone’s memories, and holy run-on sentence, Batman. Yeah, it’s a lot to swallow, both on the literary and story level, and Sparks leans heavily on not one, but two, writing clichés. Firstly, the mental link to Persephone, whose memories and abilities conveniently pop up when necessary to the plot; secondly, a journal left behind by Cora’s mom for her daughter, which explains exactly the amount of information required at that point. Cora trapped in a situation with no hope of escape? Oh, look: here comes Persephone, and/or an alien artifact to get her out of trouble.

It is kinda interesting to see Cora develop over the course of the novel, but it just does not feel like a natural arc: at times, she feels like a meat puppet, not operating of her own free will. The inevitable romantic angle with Raiden feels dutiful rather than organic, and he’s entirely abandoned for the final quarter of the book, having outlived his usefulness to the plot. There is a decent sense of place, with Sparks clearly having done her research regarding Rome, and when things are in motion, you do sense Cora being involved in a grand conspiracy beyond anything she could have imagined. Yet the clunky elements repeatedly derail this progress. I think the point at which I abandoned hope, was when Cora needed a detailed map of the Rome catacombs, and her online BFF, just so happened to have spent the past few years researching exactly this. I kept expecting BFF to be part of the Custodes Veritatis, or something to justify this outrageous leap. No such luck. At least not in this volume, and I won’t be engaging with future ones.

Author: Lindsey Sparks
Publisher: Rubus Pressg, available through Amazon, both as a paperback and an e-book
Book 1 of 4 in the Atlantis Legacy series.

Lady Whirlwind Against the Rangers

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★★½
“Gal force winds.”

Not to be confused, in the slightest bit, with Lady Whirlwind (though both Tubi and the IMDb do, affixing posters from it to their entries for this movie), it is a straightforward slice of chop-socky – with all that entails, both good and bad. The plot is simple in comparison to some. Lin Jo-Nan (Shang-Kuan) is the daughter of a law official, who tries to stop the salt hijacking operations of notorious bandit, Chang Piao (Kurata). After he refuses to let the criminals go, he’s framed and arrested. Jo-Nan and her little brother, Shao Lung (Yeh), try to take revenge on the bandit, but end up getting their butts kicked, so another, more subtle plan is clearly required.

This involves both siblings dressing as the opposite sex, with Jo-Nan getting a job as assistant foreman of a salt company. She gets her boss. Ma Wen (Ma) to agree to take the fight to Chang Piao, and hijack a few of his salt shipments. That gets her promoted to chief foreman, and the disgruntled man she replaces is ripe for recruitment on to Chang’s side. The section thereafter is likely the weakest, as the movie drifts into broad comedy, after someone discovers Jo-Nan’s true gender, and falls for her. Of course, as is usual in these things, the heroine is hardly convincing as a man, and the plot basically relies on everyone accepting her preferred pronouns without question. Though she at least has a short haircut to help the illusion.

Eventually, the core plot shows up again, with Chang Piao putting into action a plan to kill Ma Wen with a booby-trapped sculpture. Can anything then stop him from taking over? Well, you will likely not be surprised by the answer to that particular question. Though, again, it takes a while for Jo-Nan to get back into the action, after a brisk start where it seems like every scene is another battle for her. The annoying kid also falls into the category of “Things I could probably have used less of”, right down to the inevitable urine-based humour. His kidnapping does kick off the final battle, with Jo-Nan riding to the rescue, and storming Chang’s villa, where she has the inevitable final fight against him.

The kung-fu on view here is generally fine. Polly has a no-nonsense style, which fits in nicely with the larger opponents she has to battle, and it’s also apparent she’s doing all (or close to all) of her own work. Disappointingly, she ends up needing help to dispose of the main bad guy, from an undercover policeman, and the ending falls rather flat, without her getting to batter Chang Piao into oblivion. As kung-fu revenge flicks go, the way this finishes falls into the kinder, gentler, “let the law punish him appropriately” category, and that’s disappointing. However, the biggest problem is the lack of Polly-action in the middle, and your attention should be forgiven if it drifts elsewhere.

Dir: Cheng Hou
Star: Polly Shang-Kuan, Yasuaki Kurata, Chi Ma, Hsiao-Yi Yeh

A League of Their Own

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It has been a very quiet year for action heroine films. Here we sit, entering the sixth month of the year, and the only one of the top 100 movies in 2023 at the North American box-office I’ve reviewed here is Everything Everywhere All at Once – and that actually came out in April last year. [I’ll probably add Polite Society to the list shortly] There have been a couple of high-profile streaming titles, such as The Mother, and last week, I discovered the third series of La Reina Del Sur had hit Netflix. It made the top ten shows in the US, which is quite impressive. But it’ll take a few months for me to get through its 60 episodes.

Since there’s nothing new to “feature”, I decided to dip back into the archives and revisit some old reviews, which are in need of updating for one reason or another. I’m starting with League of Their Own. This is partly because it deserves more than the three hundred words it got when originally reviewed 20+ years ago, and partly because of the Amazon reboot into a TV series which came out (as we’ll see, a very apt phrase!) last year. I think my original review (below) was a little harsh, though it may be that I’ve changed since. Baseball is now an intrinsic part of my everyday life, especially during the summer, and I can perhaps appreciate the film that much more.

Indeed, of all the films about baseball – and there have been some classic – I’d rate League behind only The Natural overall. The latter captures the mythic, almost epic quality of the sport, but League simply sparkles in terms of story, characters and dialogue. Virtually everyone involved gives at or near career-best performances, and considering that includes Tom Hanks and Geena Davis, this is a high bar indeed. Hell, even Madonna is good, though it feels more as if the character was written for her, rather than she’s playing a role.

At its heart is the relationship between sisters Dottie (Davis) and Kit (Lori Petty). Kit has been overshadowed by her sister for her whole life, but can at least hold her own in the baseball arena. When the chance comes to play professionally, it’s Dottie the scout wants, but Kit who needs the opportunity, and convinces the scout to take them both. Thereafter, it’s partly about Kit trying to come out from under the shadow of her sister, but also coach Jimmy Dugan (Hanks) rediscovering his love for the game, and all the women proving the game they provide can be every bit as entertaining for spectators as the male version, even if the quality of play is lower]

[Diversion. The distinction between quality and entertainment was made clear to me over the past few months as I’ve followed the battle for Wrexham to get promotion from the fifth to the fourth tier of English football. The talent on view is not of Premier League quality, clearly. But the decisive contest against rivals Notts County – won 3-2 by Wrexham after their keeper saved a penalty in injury time – was the most dramatic and enthralling game of football I’ve ever watched. So, the appeal of the All-American Girls Professional Baseball League doesn’t need explaining, even if they’re not the major-leagues]

Writers Lowell Ganz and Babaloo Mandel do a remarkably good job of keeping all the threads of the story moving forward over the course of the season. Events culminate in the final game, where the two sisters face off, on different teams, for the championship. Dottie knows its her last game, since she’s going to quit and start a family. Kit, however, needs the win, for her self-esteem. It is, of course, Sports Cliche 1.0.1, with the title decided on the final play, Kit barreling into Dottie at home-plate. Yet it still works. Even the wraparound segments, which I disliked at the time, now seem to provide a suitable send-off for the characters we have grown to love over the preceding two hours. Hence, its rating is upgraded to a very solid ★★★★.

Then there’s Amazon’s League of Their Own. It’s basically unwatchable. I tried, trust me. But it takes a story that operated at the intersection of sports and humanity, and turns it into one firmly located on the cross-streets of sexuality and race. And that’s fine. It’s certainly a version which could be told about the AAGPBL. But it isn’t what I wanted to see, and it certainly shouldn’t have been called A League of Their Own, because that creates a set of expectations which the film is unable to fulfill, despite forcing in famous lines like “There’s no crying in baseball!” Call it Lesbians in the War Who Occasionally Play Baseball: that’d be a more accurate reflection of the show’s interests.

Even as that, it’s not very good. The CGI used during the baseball games is flat-out terrible: nobody involved here looks even slightly competent (an area where it differs radically from, say, GLOW). It’s also a thoroughly unconvincing rendition of the period. The dialogue, attitudes and even the incidental music, all appear to come from significantly later times, to the point why you wonder why they bothered setting it in in the forties at all. Turning a frothy and subtly empowering comedy-drama into a social commentary sledgehammer, where baseball is an escape from straight society, was never a good decision. At least the largely (and justifiably) forgotten 1993 series, for all its flaws, operated in the same thematic ballpark. Pun not intended.

None of which takes away in the slightest from the joys to be had in the original movie. We watched it last night, and never mind baseball, it has to be one of the best sports movies, regardless of gender, of all time. That’s probably because it’s a rare entity which works both in terms of its sport and without it. You could remove every scene of them playing baseball and you’d still have a thoroughly entertaining, if somewhat confusing, film. About an all-women bus tour of the Midwest, I guess. But the AAGPBL was an entity that certainly needed to be better known too, and A League of Their Own is the telling of their story which it deserves.

★★★½
“A chick flick with balls…and strikes.”

Deserving credit for being about the only female sports film of note, this is actually pretty good, despite a pointless and schmaltzy wraparound, which gives us nothing but some wrinkly baseball, one of Madonna’s least memorable songs and Geena Davis as a thoroughly unconvincing pensioner. Which is a shame; if the bread in the sandwich is stale, the meat is tasty and filling.

From 1943 to 1954, women played professional baseball, a fact largely forgotten until this film. Davis plays the star catcher, taken from the countryside to play ball – giving a new meaning to “farm team”, hohoho – along with her sister (Petty). The movie covers the first season, under a recovering alcoholic coach (Hanks), leading to a face-off between siblings in Game 7 of the championship.

Davis is excellent and entirely convincing (she’d go on to make final trials for the US 2000 Olympic archery team): the interplay between her and Hanks is great, and most of her team-mates are also true personalities. However, Madonna is superfluous, given the similar presence of Rosie O’Donnell [I’m struggling to avoid obvious jokes here]. Jon Lovitz steals the first quarter as an acidic scout, and it’s a shame when he leaves.

If the characters are great, there’s a lack of narrative drive; how can you get excited over playoffs, when it looks like every team qualifies? The friction between Davis and Petty vanishes for much of the movie, in favour of a series of entertaining but – being honest – unimportant diversions. When we reach the finale though, it’s great; ever bit as exciting as any World Series Game 7. And coming from an Arizona Diamondbacks fan, that’s praise indeed.

Dir: Penny Marshall
Star: Geena Davis, Lori Petty, Tom Hanks, Rosie O’Donnell

The Lair

  By

★★★
“Russian about.”

There is a tendency for directors married to actresses to make them action heroines. This perhaps started with Renny Harlin and Geena Davis, but the most famous example is probably Paul W.S. Anderson and Milla Jovovich (she was previously married to Luc Besson too). It seems that Marshall and Kirk may be heading that way, with her starring in his last two movies. First there was witch-pic The Reckoning, and now this, which blends elements from a number of genre films. Not the least of which are Marshall’s own Dog Soldiers and The Descent. However, you can also throw in Predator, Aliens and perhaps even Starship Troopers. The result is, obviously, derivative as hell – yet I can’t deny, I enjoyed it.

Pilot Capt. Kate Sinclair (Kirk) is shot down in hostile Afghani territory. While being pursued by insurgents, she stumbles across and takes refuge an abandoned underground base left over from the Soviet occupation in the eighties. What’s inside turns out to be very aggressive and unpleasant, and Sinclair barely escapes with her life. She finds refuge in a nearby allied base commanded by Major Roy Finch (Bamber), and her tales of Soviet engineered monstrosities meet with understandable scepticism. Until night falls, and the creatures emerge from their laur and go on the offensive. The next day, Capt. Sinclair and the survivors decide they need to go back to the Russian base and plant enough C4 to reduce it and its inhabitants to their constituent atoms.

The last Marshall film we covered here was Doomsday back in 2008. Since then he has honed his skills more in television; of particular note, a couple of episodes from Game of Thrones, including the spectacular “Blackwater”. He seems to have put the experience to good use here, with a fine eye for the fight sequences between the soldiers and the creatures. There are a lot of practical effects, and the Resident Evil franchise is another clear influence. I do wish the creatures’ talents had been further illustrated: for instance there’s one point where Sinclair is grabbed by a monster’s multiple tongues. I kept expecting this feature to return later; it never does.

There are, unfortunately, too many holes for this to be a classic, with a heroine whose behaviour falls  short of logical, or even making sense. I get the “no man left behind” thing, but dragging all your comrades back into danger, in order to rescue one person, is very different from going in alone (as Ripley does, to rescue Newt, at the end of Aliens). Some of the accents here are flat-out terrible: Bamber’s Southern drawl is the worst – were there no actual actors available from South of the Mason-Dixon line? – but Ockenden’s Welsh isn’t convincing either. I’m also impressed by the way Sinclair’s hair and make-up remain pristine through the entire movie, regardless of what grubby underground trench she has had to crawl through: I guess being the director’s wife has its benefits… As an entertaining B-movie though, I’ve no complaints, and if this couple want to continue down the Anderson/Jovovich road in future, I’ll be fine with that.

Dir: Neil Marshall
Star: Charlotte Kirk, Jonathan Howard, Jamie Bamber, Leon Ockenden

Lou

  By

★★½
“The family that slays together, stays together.”

A Netflix original movie, the first thing to say is: thankfully, this is not as bad as Interceptor. Mind you, few films with budgets measured in the millions are as bad as Interceptor. It did more damage to my perception of the Netflix brand than any other, to the point I was genuinely concerned about having to watch this, fearing it would be down at the same level. Certain elements are, most likely the script. But the presence of Alison Janney, single-handedly prevents the film from sinking, effectively acting as a life-belt for the less successful elements. It’s a shame the makers apparently didn’t realize what they had, and used the strength of its star better.

She plays Lou, a near-retiree who lives quietly on an island near Seattle. She has a tenant, Hannah Dawson (Smollett), a single mother of Vee (Bateman). But Lou is ready to check out of life entirely. She has a gun pointed at her own head, when Hannah rushes in, begging for help, because her husband Philip (Marshall-Green) – supposedly dead – has shown up and kidnapped Vee, in the middle of a ferocious storm. Fortunately, Lou has a history, which has given her the ideal set of special skills for the circumstances. She and Hannah set out through the rain in pursuit of Philip. Yet there’s more going on, with Lou’s history catching up with her, as well as the truth about her relationship to Hannah and Philip. 

The idea of Lou is a strong one, playing roughly along the lines of Liam Neeson in the Taken franchise, with a hint of John Wick. A grizzled veteran, who just wants to be left alone, who is dragged back into a life of violence: only, this time, it’s a woman, Lou being a CIA field agent, with 26 years experience, before leaving under murky circumstances. The rest of the story though? Oh, dear. The film staggers from ineptly-staged scenes of family bonding, to revelations that are more likely to provoke a snort of derision than a gasp of surprise. Lou vanishes entirely for much of the second half, and Hannah is simply not interesting enough to hold the movie together.

The action is fairly well-staged, though they don’t put enough effort into equalizing the fights. Lou’s opponents are all bigger and stronger than her, and there are times where the movie forgets this. However, Janney sells her persona so well, I was inclined to cut this the necessary slack. Director Foerster’s previous feature was Underworld: Blood Wars, and there’s a definite sense at the ending they want to turn this into a similar franchise. Despite the mediocre overall rating, there is plenty of potential in the lead character, and I would not be averse to more of her story. Let’s just hope they keep writers Maggie Cohn and Jack Stanley in a remote cabin on an island in the Pacific Northwest, and well away from any sequel’s script. 

Dir: Anna Foerster
Star: Allison Janney, Jurnee Smollett, Logan Marshall-Green, Ridley Asha Bateman

Lady of the Law

  By

★★★
“I am the law…”

I kept moving between 2½ and 3 stars for this. It is pretty chatty, and the focus is not as much on the title character as I might have hoped. But there’s no denying that Leng (Shi) is a very solid character, and when she gets her chances to shine, does so in a memorable fashion. This is nowhere better illustrated than her final battle, where she takes on an enemy – who just tried to molest Leng, believing her drugged – while they both balance on a tight-rope. There’s no particular reason for the fight to take place in such an environment. The ground would have been perfectly fine. But it adds an extra dimension, and the way it’s filmed makes it feel surprisingly possible that they were wobbling about up there.

To get there is, however, quite a process. There’s a rapist going about China, but when he eventually escalates to murdering the concubine of a high official, something must be done. That something is Leng, a smart and persistent officer of the law. However, the real rapist, Chen (Shek), and his rich father frame Jiao (Lo) for the crime; he flees, with Leng in pursuit. The Chens seek to make sure Jiao can’t testify. They also seek to sideline and silence an incriminating witness – a blind man who can identify the rapist by his voice. As a result, he could both exonerate Jiao and pin blame on the real culprit.

Once this gets going, it is, however, mostly a pursuit, with Leng tracking Jiao across the countryside. The best sequence likely has him hiding out in a palace whose owner has a massive harem of Warrior concubines. They’re… quite pleased by Jiao’s arrival, but their owner refuses to help Leng in her quest, unless she can defeat the entire harem. It’s a nicely staged sequence, which must have required Shaw Brothers to hire just about every woman at the time in Hong Kong, who knew how to operate the business end of a sword. On the other hand, Lo is top-billed for a reason, and definitely gets a good slab of screen time, despite the title of the movie. 

There’s even a prologue where we discover the same men who framed him was responsible for the death of his father, and the child Jiao was only saved by the intervention of the child Leng. This doesn’t add much to proceedings, and can safely be ignored. The same goes for Jiao’s secret mastery of the Flaming Daggers technique: demonstrated, the completely forgotten. I’d rather have seen the time used to develop Leng’s story, such as the intriguing relationship with her white eyebrowed, Taoist mother. Shih apparently took over at Shaw Brothers as their star, after Cheng Pei Pei moved to California in the early seventies. This, which I’ve read sat on the shelf for several years, is the first film of hers I’ve seen (outside of bizarre Shaw/Hammer co-production, The Legend of the 7 Golden Vampires). However, there was enough here to make me interested in finding some of her other work.

Dir: Siu Wing
Star: Shih Szu, Lo Lieh, Chang Pei-Shan, Dean Shek

Last Day in Limbo, by Peter O’Donnell

  By

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

Although this is the eighth book in the author’s trail-blazing (at the time it was written, action-oriented heroines were nowhere near as numerous in fiction as they are now) series, it’s the third that I’ve read. (Long story!) It was published in 1976; but in terms of the series’ internal chronology, just a few years have passed since the series opener. So in the book, it would still be the late 1960s, and protagonist Modesty is now about 28 years old. As is often the case, I would advise readers NOT to read the cover blurb. IMO, it discloses way too much information that’s better learned as O’Donnell chooses to gradually unfold it.

When the tale opens, we find Modesty and one of her (to use a contemporary term) “friends with benefits,” multimillionaire tycoon John Dall, enjoying a white-water canoeing excursion in the remote wilds of the Rocky Mountains, accompanied only by a 60-year-old Indian guide. It’s indicated that Dall would be glad to have a more committed relationship; but while Modesty has a lot of admirable qualities and makes a devoted friend, her hellish formative years left her with too damaged a psyche for committed romantic love. O’Donnell never made that any part of her character arc, so readers shouldn’t approach the books with that expectation (or hope!). Barely two pages into the story, though, their idyll is rudely interrupted by the appearance, seemingly out of nowhere, of two gun-toting thugs, who take the couple prisoner after brutally murdering their guide. This begins an adventure that will take us to more than one locale, but principally to the dense (and deftly-evoked) jungles of Guatemala, and which will involve mortal danger, intense mental and physical challenges, and a high body count.

An obvious question readers might ask is, does reading this out of order result in “spoilers” for the earlier books? I would say no, because Modesty’s adventures are each episodic and self-contained; and she and sidekick Willie don’t significantly change, either in their life circumstances or in terms of character growth. Some characters here do appear in earlier books: Sir Gerald Tarrant, for instance, is already introduced in the first book, and Steve and Dinah Collier are in the story A Perfect Night to Break Your Neck, included in the story collection Pieces of Modesty (which I did read previously), though that’s not their first appearance in the canon. The madman who calls himself (and actually believes that he is!) “Lucifer” is, I’m guessing, the title character of the third novel, I, Lucifer, and both Dall and British spy Maude Tiller have also apparently shown up before.

But while having read about them earlier would make them more familiar, all of these were depicted here with enough clarity and depth that I felt I knew them fully well as people. And while occasional references are made to previous adventures, the significance is explained in each case, and for me the effect was simply to whet curiosity, not spoil it. (Of course, it’s clear that Modesty emerged from these triumphant; but that’s a “spoiler” only if you don’t grasp the idea of the word “series….” :-) ) I’d recommend reading the first book before this one, to get a basic idea of who Modesty is, what her early life was like, and the Modesty-Willie dynamic; but otherwise, I don’t think it’s essential to read the earlier books first.

In terms of style and literary vision, this book felt, to me, very much of a piece with the two I’d read earlier. While he doesn’t write with the elaborate diction of his 18th-century Romantic predecessors, O’Donnell’s solidly in their literary camp with his use of exotic locales, extreme situations, and above all, frank appeals to the whole range of readers’ emotions. (In one revealing exchange, Dall tells Modesty she’s a “romantic,” whereupon she replies, “Of course I’m a romantic, dum-dum! And proud of it. There’s not enough of it about these days.”) His plotting is taut and well-constructed, with a good deal of suspense, a steady pace interspersed with frequent jeopardies and vivid action scenes. Modesty has to display her planning acuity and ingenuity as well as her fighting skill; and surviving and taking down the baddies here won’t be a cake-walk, since while she’s highly competent and a born leader, she’s not Superwoman. On the contrary, she’s very much a flesh-and-blood woman, who can bleed and cry (though she doesn’t like to do the latter in front of others); and she’ll do both before we close the book.

In contrast to the cynicism of much modern literature, despite the gritty milieu we find ourselves in here, O’Donnell’s vision is a solidly moral one. Our heroine (and Modesty is a heroine, not an anti-heroine) is pitted against villains who are radically evil, and while she, Willie and their friends have foibles, they basically have a solid and instinctive orientation towards the good. And O’Donnell knows that the basic dividing line between the two separates those who care about others and try to treat them decently, vs. those who care only about self and consider all other humans as things to be used. The author’s social message here isn’t loudly delivered; but we do get a clear look at both the misery the downtrodden in the Third World have suffered (and still do), and the reality that a fixation on vengeance rather than justice can make the oppressed a mirror image of the oppressors.

Content issues here aren’t too problematic, given the literary genre that this is. There’s some swearing and religious profanity (but no obscenity). There are no sex scenes, but there is reference to sexual activity, and it’s made clear that two of the principal villains are into kinky sex that involves inflicting extreme humiliation on women (though O’Donnell spares us any specifics). That such behavior exists in the world should (and does!) offend every decent human; that it’s depicted at all in a book will offend some readers. In the author’s defense on that score, I would say only that a mentality which freaks out on wielding power over other humans is realistically apt to also be reflected in warped sexuality; it warps every aspect of the personality. The language and sexual attitudes/behavior of most of the characters here are what would realistically be expected of secular folk who move in these kinds of circles. Indeed, while some readers would roll their eyes over using the term here, because of the unusual and extreme situation (“unusual,” though, is not the same thing as “impossible!”), I would say that O”Donnell depicts a wide range of life-like characters with very convincing realism, and that his characterizations are a strong point of the series.

Again, I’d recommend reading the series opener before reading this installment; but otherwise, I’d have no hesitation in recommending it to any reader who enjoyed the first book.

Author: Peter O’Donnell
Publisher: Souvenir Press; available through Amazon, currently only as a printed book.
A version of this review previously appeared on Goodreads.

The Ledge

  By

★★½
“Falls off sharply.”

Despite the above, there are some strong positives to be found here. First off, the Serbian mountain landscapes are beautiful, and the cinematography does them justice. Free climbing, the focus here, is an innately tense pastime, with the risk of serious injury or death present at any second. Again, the photography gets this over well, with some of the shots capturing the heights involved, to the point of almost inducing vertigo in the viewer. Finally, Ashworth is entirely convincing in her portrayal of free climber Kelly. She has the right, well-defined physique, muscled particularly around the shoulders, and exudes a quiet confidence in her own abilities, which is what you would expect. That’s the good news. 

Unfortunately, there’s the rest of the film, beginning with a plot that would be overachieving if it reached the level of dumb, and is little more than a series of eye-roll generating cliches strung together. Kelly and her gal pal are prepping for a weekend’s climbing on the anniversary of a tragic accident which claimed the life of Kelly’s fiancé, just as he was about to propose to her. Four jocks roll up at the next cabin, and before you can say “date rape”, the pal has fallen off a cliff, and is finished off by the group’s leader, Josh (Lamb). Becky happens to video that, and as they chase her, starts climbing the rock face to escape. The only way out is up, except Josh and crew take an alternate route up. It leaves Becky stuck on a narrow outcrop, with bad guys above, and a thousand-foot drop below.

Oh, and I didn’t even mention the snakes, which according to the movie, are a bigger threat to rock climbers, than plummeting to your doom. Or the conveniently abandoned tent on the ledge, just a few feet below a far better site. The whole thing is littered with this kind of contrivance. Worse still is Josh – by which I mean, both the character, and the ridiculously hammy performance by Lamb. It comes over as a douchebag version of Ryan Reynolds, and could not be more an Obvious Psycho, if he had been running a motel and talking about his mother a lot.

Some scenes are effective, mostly the simpler ones, pitting Becky against the implacable combination of the rock-face and gravity. If only the makers had realized what they have, does not need to be dressed up in painful and artificial ways to generate excitement. All you need is some initial device to get Becky onto the wall; everything thereafter is needless window-dressing. This includes the back-story of Becky’s boyfriend, and the convoluted saga of Josh’s love-life off the mountain, neither adding an iota to the entertainment value. Ford also directed Never Let Go, which used its exotic location and isolated heroine to slightly better effect. But if I never see Lamb’s irritating hamminess ever again, I will be entirely fine with that.

Dir: Howard J. Ford
Star: Brittany Ashworth, Ben Lamb, Nathan Welsh, Louis Boyer