Tag: netflix

Arcane – League of Legends: Season 2

  By

★★★
“Everything that goes up, must come down again.”

Note: Watching season 1 or at least reading Jim’s review of it is highly recommended. Spoilers will follow!

I never played the MOBA (multiplayer online battle arena) video game League of Legends. But I guess this was the case for many people, when they discovered the first season of the animated series based on it in 2021 on Netflix, and were surprised by its great quality. For Arcane – League of Legends was a show long in the making. That it finally came to fruition is probably mainly due to the persistence of producers Christian Linke and Alex Yee. The whole project had many creative problems to overcome, not least the indifference of Hollywood, where Riot first tried, unsuccessfully, to find a partner for a possible translation of their stories into a film version. It would probably never have seen the light of day if they hadn’t employed producer and writer Amanda Overton. She was able to see the dramatic potential of Riot’s fictive world Runeterra and take the needed steps for this to become a story.

The whole project was something absolutely new for all involved, because animated clips for games are not the same as an animated series. It spent a long time in development – production for the first season took seven years. Success could not be guaranteed, therefore needing another three for the second season to go into production without finished scripts for every episode, according to Variety. This resulted in a total budget of $250 million for the entire series. The first season cost $80m to produce; the second, $100m; the rest went into marketing the first season. This means every episode cost $13.9 million, the highest budget per episode of any animated series ever.

Given that, it’s no surprise to hear the rumoured three further seasons are not happening. However, the producers say that was just an inside joke: it was always intended for the story of the twin cities Piltover and Zaun to be finished with the second season. At least, it’s what they claim.  Watching the rushed events play out in season 2, with new, underdeveloped characters being introduced and old characters sometimes behaving inconsistently, and not necessarily in line with the way they were presented in season 1, make doubts about such statements absolutely justified.

In any case, here we go again! While normal watchers and fans had to wait 3 years for Arcane‘s second part. Season 2 continues its story immediately after the big bang, which we don’t get to see here, caused by Zaunite and gangster protégée Jinx, previously known as Powder. We get to discover which council members died and survived. That question seemed the most important one for many people, maybe only topped by the unresolved relationship issue between Jinx’s sister Vi and Piltoverian enforcer Caitlyn. Surprisingly, only half perished but Caitlyn’s mother, Cassandra, bit the dust, a potential catalyst for a revenge arc. But then, from the very beginning on, Arcane has followed much more complex storylines than your average Hollywood blockbuster.

For this show, it means what would be enough for your average action movie or TV series, is just the beginning. It’s what I think makes the series above average in general. It always gives more than you asked for, and at the same time surprises you with sudden twists, unexpected developments, plus nuanced characterizations and relationships that escape standard black-and-white. Well, at least the first season did.

Characters are flawed, not just good or evil. They try their best, or at least react in a way that is human and understandable. Yes, the road to hell is paved with good intentions. Sometimes your effort to do good is exactly what leads to society’s downfall. That theme was prominent in season 1; for season 2, it’s also about how the actions and intentions of different people can clash with each other. Also, Riot and its creative team seek to put things on their head, with unforeseen developments for their characters. Viktor becomes a kind of helpful messiah in Zaun; Jinx teams up with her former gangster-stepfather’s loyal lieutenant Sevika, with whom she was at odds before, and young girl, Isha; Jinx becoming the poster girl for what seems to be Arcane’s prepared re-enactment of the French revolution; and Caitlyn is de facto declared sole ruler by Ambessa Medarda. A fallout between Caitlyn and Vi puts their developing love story on ice and drives Vi into nasty underground fights. There’s a lot happening here and a lot to unpack, too; no review can cover it all, so I won’t even try.

The dreamlike quality of the animation is still overwhelmingly beautiful. Though in some scenes and moments, you may feel you already know French animation studio Fortiche’s shtick. Anything repeated can hardly retain a feeling of originality, though it still may look beautiful. Once again, the musical score is fine and offers something for everyone. When music and visuals come together, they very often make a fine combination, reminding me of MTV music videos of my youth.

Unfortunately, the songs are usually at the beginning of each episode. I preferred it the way season 1 did it – we didn’t know when a song would pop up. It could be the beginning, middle or the end of an episode, so it was a nice surprise. Also, while the previous season had around eleven songs, here there might be twice as many. After a while, the constant interruptions of the story for another music sequence can start to feel quite a bit distracting if not outright annoying.

Is this season better or worse than season 1? It depends on what is important for you. What I liked very much of the first season, was it being character-focused and psychologically deeper than you would normally expect from your average entertainment product. Also, the realistic depiction of characters and their conflicts with each other made me buy into the more fantastic elements of the story. I got the strong impression that, in contrast to many Hollywood creators today, those in charge had actually read books on screenwriting and building dramatic conflicts, as well as believable characters.

Season 2 is different: focus appears to be elsewhere. It seems there is so much the writers feel the need to tell, and by wanting to introduce more of the game’s lore, it sometimes becomes too much for its own good. There are many new developments, arcs, characters, etc. Don’t get me wrong: characters are still likable, but they and their developing relationships had much more time to breath in the previous season. Here, things seemed to go a bit too quickly, and I couldn’t escape the impression characters were sometimes turning 180° within minutes. Very often events or explanations are kind of summarized in montages with music put underneath. Of course, you can do that. But you shouldn’t do it all the time.

A clear minus point in my book: things that felt logically had to happen based on season 1, are discarded in favor of other story decisions out of nowhere. You can say while the first season was character-orientated, the second wants to bring in boatloads of lore. Didn’t Jinx kill Sevika’s boss Silco just a day ago? And now they are teaming up? Really? A kiss finally confirms the love between Caitlyn and Vi, which can be probably counted as pure fan service for the lesbian community. But then there is a breakup a few minutes later, and Caitlyn, who was introduced as a shy and sexually unaware person in season 1, is shown in bed with fellow officer, Maddie Nolan. That’s a new character, and we don’t get any explanation why and how they became a couple. Where did that come from? How convenient it happened between episode 3 and 4, which saw another time-skip of unknown length.

The same is true for the revolution of Zaun against Piltover. It seemed to be just about to break out but is skipped over, too. Suddenly we have a Zaun held in check by Ambessa’s Noxian troops. I guess it relieved the animators from the burden of drawing extensive large battle scenes here between Enforcers, Zaunites and Noxian soldiers. All we get is a small demonstration led by Sevika, that’s immediately put down. Nor are we given an explanation why Jayce thinks that the Hexcore could save Viktor – how badly was he injured? While we can assume why Viktor leaves his friendship with Jayce behind, he never really states a specific reason.

Why should the council accept Caitlyn as a new member, given she is only the daughter of Cassandra? Are political positions inherited in Piltover? If so, I’m not astonished the twin cities are having so many problems. Ambessa makes Caitlyn de facto commanding officer of the city and Caitlyn takes that position, only to backpedal an episode later. Why? If you want to tell an Emperor Anakin story, do so. But then go the full mile and show me her devastating actions, as well as the resulting impact. What is a story decision worth when you have no intention to make something out of it, and reverse it a couple of episodes later? It’s like starting to tell a story, then suddenly deciding against it.

Other things didn’t make sense, as if the writers lost track of their own story. How come Ambessa knows Vi? She is virtually a total stranger to her. How does she know Vi and Caitlyn were close? And why should she be glad when Caitlyn fakes the capture of Vi, since she has little or no meaning for her? I do get that Linke & co. are in favor of “show don’t tell”, and prefer visuals and the intelligence of the audience to deduce things, instead of showering them in spoken info-dumps. But these things don’t appear logical anymore and demand explanations that are not given here. As someone who doesn’t know the game, I also had quite some problems understanding what was happening with the Hexcore, especially at the end.

Caitlyn in particular has a lot to answer for: she changes so often this season, that she could be called the poster child for inconsistent character writing. It’s as if the makers were preparing certain things, then didn’t want to follow through or got scared of their own boldness. Where is the bloody revolution, the big civil war that loomed all over season one, and whose ending seemed to be so unavoidable? I have to shake my head in disbelief at the storytellers, obviously preparing a love story between two main characters, only to chicken out for want of not having them come together too early, meaning they bond physically just shortly before the finale. Unfortunately, when said scene finally happens, it feels very much “too little, too late”. [Did they really do it on the floor of a dirty prison cell, while the climactic battle was simultaneously brewing outside?]

It should be noted that the series is not a Netflix product; Netflix was just offered the show as a distributor. Riot Games, its creator, financed the series themselves and had French animation studio Fortiche produce it. It might explain why the usual “propaganda” we see in a lot of Netflix-productions is less obviously present in this. This show mainly abandons lectures in favour of its narrative. Though it’s fair to stress the story is focused on strong, powerful women. Male characters appear either as weak and emasculated (Viktor, Salo, Heimerdinger, Caitlyn’s father), negatively portrayed (Silco, Singed, Marcus, Finn, Smeech), non-intimidating boyfriend material (Jayce, Ekko) or – and this becomes almost a dead horse – dead/absent father figures (Silco, Vander and Marcus).

If you are an imposing strong man, here it is usually as a supporting character without any agency of his own (such as “The Scowler”, Loris or Riktus, Ambessa’s muscular right-hand man). If you had told this story a few years ago, Jayce and Caitlyn would have become an adored couple – an idea the first season seemed to toy with for a moment, then quickly discarded. But as we live in ‘enlightened times’, the show sees the sensitive Jayce being seduced by powerful black leader Mel Medarda, and Caitlyn is revealed as a lesbian.

Disappointingly, the expected big final fight between Vi and Jinx is not to be found here: instead, they get along again after a bit of a brawl. Jinx the psycho? She seems quite normal again, after playing surrogate mother to the mute Isha for a couple of episodes. That’s far from any normal psychological reality. The screenwriters aren’t even above shamelessly milking nostalgia by giving us a flashback to Vander, Silco and the mother of Vi and Jinx sitting in “The Last Draw” – in a way it’s even repeated later again. Cheap, cheap, cheap!

Certain developments feel hasty, rushed and insufficiently explained. If I didn’t look it up, I’d have no idea about the meaning of the Black Rose. Maybe the Ambessa novel coming out next year might make things clearer? Fans may know what this is about; but it’s not how you present a story to people who have no prior knowledge of the game’s lore. By doing things like this you essentially exclude them from the show. I will say, it becomes better in later episodes. Episode 7 function as some kind of alternative universe story, that works as a stand-alone. Episode 8 finally gives us information we could have used earlier, when the characters have some much needed discussions with each other. Unfortunately, the last episode opts for a finale akin to a typical Tolkien adaptation by Peter Jackson, with what appears to be the villain from Avengers 2: The Age of Ultron, and partly falls prey to esoteric mumbo-jumbo.

Also, newly introduced characters such as Isha, Loris or Mattie are never developed. What can we really say about them? What is the sense of introducing an admittedly cute little girl into the story, having her do or say little of significance, only to kill her off a few episodes later? Yeah, I know, it has shock value when a child dies. But “kill the cutie” is one of the cheapest cliches. I did not expect the makers would fall to the level of George R. R. Martin, after the screenwriting skills they demonstrated in season one. [But there might be a simple explanation: I read that four of the screenwriters in season one were not part of the writing committee for season two.] For me these things indicate a rushed, not thought through screenwriting process. Obviously having “only” three years for the second season, compared to seven for the first, led to a tangible loss of quality in the careful construction of scripts and characters.

The first season’s story built up, with logical progression, and you could quickly identify with the characters’ psyches and what drove them. Don’t get me wrong, the show is still very good and entertaining, but would have been much better served if this edition had more time to breath and been spread over two or maybe even three seasons, instead of just one. Too often you feel that there are scenes or needed explanatory dialogues missing, as if they had to be cut or were never written. Consequently, while I would easily have given season one 4 stars, season two lands with only 3.

Also, there is a slight change in style. While it’s still a drama, this season seems to skew a bit more horror-orientated. Body modification (see Viktor) plays a role here, as well as the frightening abilities of the “Hexcore”, which seems to develop like a living organism. We get enforcers hunting Jinx with gas into the deep mines, and unscrupulous scientist Singed creating Warwick, a kind of werewolf-ian monster, predicted by some LoL fans after seeing the last scene of season 1. The show as a whole gets more fantastic, compared to the more retro-SF leanings of the first season.

That said, the story arcs started three years ago are brought to an end, and that doesn’t necessarily mean a happy end for all. You have to deal with the new developments, regardless if you might have wished the show to develop in a different direction. The series is still the best in its specific genre – I guess that would be animated steampunk fantasy? – and market segment, though potential new competitors like Blue Eye Samurai are lurking around the corner.

Piltover looks very much Art Deco to me while Zaun is influenced by the style of Art Nouveau. I sometimes feel the twin cities remind me of a fantastic, retro-version of Paris at the beginning of the 20th century. Or maybe a bit earlier, around 1870 and the Belle Epoque – which makes sense, considering animation studio Fortiche has its headquarters in Paris. There is a clear commitment of Fortiche to artistry; there is hardly a frame that is not incredibly beautiful or fascinating. You could easily cover your whole living room wall with pictures of the show. Any complaints I have, are not about them: they did their work. They already are working on animated movie Penelope of Sparta (about Odysseus’ wife in Greek mythology). If it has half of the technical quality of Arcane, consider my ticket bought!

I liked season 2 but I didn’t love it. The action is still great, as are the visuals, in combination with a captivating soundtrack. You still care for the characters – though sometimes you just want to slap them right and left in the face, to get them to their senses or make up their minds. The show is complex and deals with modern but also timeless themes underneath its entertaining facade such as social injustice, the advantages and dangers of new technologies (if you want you can read “Hextech” as a metaphor for nuclear energy, environment endangering industrial processes in general, weapons of mass destruction, body modification or politics that are lead by economical interests only), and the corruption and ignorance that power creates.

But there are also psychological and social themes of conflict: emotion versus intellect, safety versus liberty, preservation of the status quo versus progress by destruction of the existing system. These are best represented in sisters, Jinx and Vi, whose already shaky patchwork family has been torn into pieces by these battles. Yet it also shaped them, and put them on a collision course against each other. Or so it seemed, since the final confrontation is between Jayce and Viktor, while Jinx is given an unnecessarily bland, sacrificial death to save her sister – although the creators hint at the end that she may have survived. You could argue the character’s potential has been entirely wasted in the attempt to reshape her into a more positive protagonist in season two. I repeat: it feels absolutely weird. Looking at the titles of the first season I always expected the final fight to be between Jinx and Vi, and it feels like another broken storytelling promise.

A minor complaint I have is, all these problems are shown, but a real solution isn’t offered for them. Yes, there are many good-hearted people here. who want the best for everyone, all fighting on different fronts, But in the end these eternal conflicts that mankind has suffered from since its existence are not really solvable. It’s kind of a downer when it comes to this original, very ambitious story. So, is season 2 what The Last Jedi was to The Force Awakens? Naah. It’s more what The Matrix sequels were to the first Matrix. Less a major disappointment than an unnecessary continuation of a perfect original. Honestly, I could have done without all the new fantastic elements and story arcs. I just wanted to see the resolution of the story the first season promised me.

Expectations set by the first season were maybe too high, but could have been at least partly fulfilled. The first gave us some kind of Greek tragedy in a fashionable modern dress, this feels more like just another fantasy show, with added modern “diversity”. The end of season one, though an open one, felt logical and justified. In a way, we could imagine the results of the final action and it didn’t really demand a sequel. The ending here feels kind of average and is unsatisfying as storytelling, perhaps partly due to already preparing another new show, probably set in Noxus. While still an entertaining series, the sad thing is that might be it for the time being.

While further TV and movie projects are planned, it appears the TV and film department of Riot has been disbanded and the team members moved to other departments in the studio, according to media reports. With a $3 million license fee per episode from Netflix and another $3 million from a Chinese distributor, do the math yourself. The show will not really be profitable, despite its popularity, though it may try to recover some costs from merchandise, the release of season one on Blu-Ray this year, selling skins for their game. But it has been reported, the best they can hope for is to break even, which is not a recommendable business model, understandably. Therefore, I’m quite astonished to hear producer Christian Linke talking about another project already in preparation since last year.

Personally speaking, it would be a shame if this is the last story we see from the League of Legends universe outside of the game. The screenwriters and producers would just have to be given enough time to develop something of a similar dramatic quality to season one. Focus on characters, not so much on lore. One story at a time is enough; we don’t have to know them all immediately. But who knows? Maybe one day it might come back due to popular demand, and because someone puts enough money on the table. Films of yesteryear (like right now: Gladiator) get sequels decades later, and TV shows I last saw when I was a hopeful 30-something return all the time. Why shouldn’t that be possible for this series, too?

Creators: Christian Linke and Alex Yee
Star (voice):Hailee Steinfeld, Ella Purnell, Kevin Alejandro, Katie Leung

Don’t Move

  By

★★★
“Suicide hotline stalking”

A somewhat gimmicky but adequately competent Netflix Original, I guess the moral here is that being abducted and stalked by a serial killer is the best kind of therapy. We meet Iris (Asbille) in the remote woods where her young son previously died. She never recovered, and is now standing on edge of a cliff, contemplating suicide. She’s interrupted by the arrival of a stranger, Richard (Wittrock), who talks her down. However, it turns out he has an ulterior motive: he wants to be the one to kill Iris. He tazes her, and while subsequently managing to escape, she has also been injected with a muscle relaxant that in twenty minutes will render her unable to move. 

Obviously, this makes for a perilous situation, as the drug slowly works its way through her system, eventually shutting down almost all conscious muscle movements. As such, it is going to be an “action” heroine film more in spirit than literally. For the vast majority of the film, Iris is unable to do very much more except blink enthusiastically. Naturally, both coming and going, the chemicals operate in exactly the way necessary to facilitate the script, and ratchet up the tension. Need to alert a suspicious police officer (Francis) to her presence? She will be able to move her hand just enough for that purpose, albeit very slowly. However, the script is assembled well enough, these moments feel organic enough to pass muster.

I think the best sequence has her washing up on the land of the reclusive Bill (Treadwell), an old geezer who is initially able to help. However, he is interrupted by the arrival of Richard, supposedly looking for his mentally disturbed wife. Bill can sense this isn’t exactly the truth, but Richard spins a plausible web of lies, all while Iris is inches away, unable to do anything. This generates quite the nervous energy, before it’s suddenly released. Indeed, Bill is an interesting person, albeit by the low standards of “minor characters in serial killer films”. Richard, too, has some surprises in his back-story. An unexpected phone call upends his carefully prepared plans, requiring a quick disposal of Iris, which leads to the movie’s climax. 

This is where it does topple over in terms of credibility, with more than one, “Wait, what?” moment. Apparently, a dunk in cold water is all it takes to reverse any pharmaceutical effects. Didn’t do much earlier, but I’ll say no more. While it’s always an issue if a film can’t stick the landing, Asbille delivers a good enough portrayal to keep me interested. That’s especially so, given the physical limitations imposed on her by the script; there are points where her eyes are the entire performance. Like most Netflix Originals, this isn’t likely to leave a lasting impression. However, unlike some, it did not leave me feeling my time had been wasted. Producer Sam Raimi, his name larger on the poster than the stars or directors, shouldn’t be embarrassed by this.

Dir: Brian Netto, Adam Schindler
Star: Kelsey Asbille, Finn Wittrock, Moray Treadwell, Daniel Francis

The Shadow Strays

  By

★★★★½
“Dog eat dog”

Director Tjahjanto gave us one of the best action films of the last decade in The Night Comes For Us, a gory and relentless assault of jaw-dropping hand-to-hand mayhem. Follow-up, The Big 4, was a little underwhelming, but I was still stoked to hear about this, in which he puts a heroine front and centre. This is perhaps a step or two short of Night – it’s clear the lead here is not a lifelong practitioner of martial arts like Joe Taslim and Iko Uwais. However, it’s the best film I’ve reviewed on this site in 2024, likely edging out Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga, through a combination of sheer force of will and arterial spray.

The Shadows are a sect of assassins, who are basically unstoppable. 13 (Ribero) is a teenage trainee, who screws up a mission in Japan alongside her instructor, Umbra (Malasan), and barely survives. 13 gets put on administrative leave, and her enforced idleness is where the problems start. In a thread strongly reminiscent of Leon, she watches a neighbour get killed by a gang, and takes care of the son, Monji. However, he vanishes, apparently abducted by the gang, and 13 isn’t standing for that. Beginning by turning low-level enforcer, Jeki (Emmanuel), she works her way up the power structure, which goes right to the top of Indonesian political society. The resulting chaos threatens to expose the Shadows, so Umbra is then dispatched to terminate their rogue agent.

This runs a chunky 144 minutes – just a handful shorter than Furiosa – which seems a fair while for a martial-arts film. The Raid 2 and John Wick 4 are the only ones which come to mind as longer. But I can’t say this particularly felt like it; there’s not much slack. We open with the absolutely blood-drenched Japanese operation, which sets the tone early. To be honest, it does such a good job, most of what follows falls slightly short. Ribero is a model and singer, and it feels like Tjahjanto underlights a lot of scenes to help paper over this. But then there’s the final battle, between 13 and Umbra. It’s likely behind only Crouching Tiger as my favorite female vs. female fight ever: utterly relentless, and brutal as hell.

It is a little less impressive in between the fights: originality is, as noted previously, not necessarily the film’s strongest suit. Other threads are set up and them ignored, such as the Shadows’ miraculous serum, which is used by Umbra to resuscitate 13 in Japan, and never mentioned again. Maybe it’ll play more of a part in the sequel, to which the ending strongly hints, bringing in a face familiar to fans of Indonesian action. I’d love to see it, since this is definitely pushing the boundaries of action heroine cinema, in all the right ways. While imperfect, at its best this is enough to make me consider introducing a six-star rating, because it goes places I’ve never seen. When it does, the results are glorious.

Dir: Timo Tjahjanto
Star: Aurora Ribero, Kristo Immanuel, Hana Malasan, Taskya Namya

Tomb Raider: The Legend of Lara Croft

  By

★★★
“Croft Original?”

I’m rarely going to find animated action as impressive as “live action”. Something done by an actual human will always seem more real than anything CGI or traditional hand-drawn animation can achieve. That’s true even if the former is arguably as fake, between stunt doubles, green screen and no small amount of CGI itself. Maybe it’s just me. While I have given multiple animated films our Seal of Approval previously, including Mulan, Aeon Flux and Battle Angel, these have been won on the basis of other elements beyond action. A live-action film can get there purely on those merits, despite clear deficiencies elsewhere e.g. In the Line of Duty IV. I don’t think animation can do that.

Hence, I suspect that I would look more kindly on this were it another live adaptation. It wouldn’t have to do much to be an improvement over the Alicia Vikander version, though to be honest, the Angelina Jolie versions were only adequate and borderline bad respectively. Maybe the makers would be better taking a Resident Evil approach, and not worrying about being faithful to the video-games. I did play the original – it remains one of only a few I ever completed – but care not about accuracy. Films and games are different, and need to be. Plot and character matter more on screen, not playability. Here, those elements are alright: they feel functional rather than organically inspired. For instance, it feels less a story than a series of levels.

We begin with a prologue which sees Lara (Atwell) in Chile retrieving a box, alongside her mentor, Conrad Roth. Three years later, Roth is dead and Lara blames herself for that. She’s about to sell off all the family’s treasures, when the Chilean box is stolen by Charles Devereaux (Armitage). Turns out the stone it contains is the first in a series of four, which when combined will destroy the precarious balance under which the world operates. Along with sidekicks Jonah (Baylon) and Zip (Maldonado), Lara criss-crosses the globe, from China to Turkey to France, and back to China, trying to stop Devereaux from completing the set and unleashing the power they contain.

From subsequent reading, I suspect you probably need to have played the specific games on which this is based (I believe it’s the “Survivor timeline”), to understand the significant of the apparent trauma through which the character has gone. None of this is depicted in the film, so I had no clue why I should be bothered by the off-screen death of Conrad, someone I’d only known for about five minutes. Also, Lara seems a bit gay here. Quite why a video-game character should be given specific sexuality escapes me. Shame they didn’t have the courage of their apparent convictions, to do more than hint heavily. To quote Yoda, “Do. Or do not.” Give us hot cartoon babes making out, or don’t bother bringing it up.

Of course, an old white guy is the villain, in comparison to the young, ethnically diverse group in Lara’s camp, and there are a couple of other jabs along those lines. But in general, it’s light enough with the messaging. The eight episodes probably total just under three hours, by the time you trim off the credits, so not all that much more than The Cradle of Life‘s 117-minute running time. You could probably get through it in a single sitting: it’s not difficult viewing. The animation is mid-tier, but does the job, and I liked the performance of Atwell (well-known here for her depiction of Agent Carter), who comes over as a serious, almost solemn, heroine – yet one with whom it’s still easy to empathize. Her supporting cast though, feel superfluous and don’t make much impression.

Within the limitation of animated action discussed above, what you get here isn’t bad. There are some good set pieces, and a couple of occasions where I almost forgot I wasn’t watching actual people, and held my breath. Key word there though, is “almost”. There’s an overall air of competence surrounding the production, and no obvious elements at which I can point a critical finger. Yet there is also not much to cause me to recommend this actively to anyone, who isn’t already a fan of the games. A second series hasn’t been confirmed: there are reports it received a two-season order out of the box, although it doesn’t appear to have received the critical acclaim given to Arcane. But if Lara does return, she probably falls into the “If I’ve nothing else to do” category.

[Jim]

Looking at some of the harsh reviews for the show, I get the impression a lot of it comes from, “I wanted the show to be this but it was that.” It’s a bit unfair because as a show, the series is good, standard adventure animation. Those who expected the show to be somewhat like Arcane: League of Legends, for example, were setting expectations very high. It’s true, that there are “two Laras”. The original by Eidos was invented in 1996, and the “modernized version” came out with the new games of Crystal Dynamics in 2013, and influenced the 2018 reboot movie, with Alicia Vikander. The original Lara could be described as a rich but goodhearted sociopath: watch the Angelina Jolie version, she really got it. Lara was a female Indiana Jones, living in a Bruce Wayne-like mansion, while the modern version seemed inspired by the Lisbeth Salander character from the Millennium Trilogy.

She instead became a guilt-stricken trauma survivor: I remember a trailer for one of the modern games, where she was talking with a psychiatrist and her whole body shook while remembering her previous experiences. The relentless adventurer who just enjoyed the journey seems to be out; the pain-stricken and emotive heroine is in. Still, she does all the action you would expect from her. This Lara just comes with emotional baggage; she has to learn to value her friends and understand that people are more important than the things she hunts. In a way it’s like modern and old James Bond. Once upon a time, he was a superhero we all loved and adored. Today, he has been cut down in size to make the character “more human”. For Lara, it makes her more relatable, for sure – but arguably less interesting. I’m not sure it’s the best way to present the character.

Filmed versions of Lara always seem to have her suffering from the loss of her father. This is the third such, after the Jolie and Vikander live-action versions. It should be noted this was not originally part of her imagined biography, which has changed several times over the years. Originally, she fell out with her family, when she decided to make adventure her lifestyle, earning her living as a travel writer, instead of marrying the Earl her parents had chosen for her. Her big defining moment was surviving alone for two weeks in the Himalayas after a plane accident. It was only after the Jolie films and the reboot games, it became that she had lost both parents.

Here, Hayley Atwell gives our favourite tomb raider a very good voice, and you wonder why film makers seem so resistant to casting a British actress as real-life Lara, with the previous actresses being American and Swedish. After all, Lady Lara Croft is as quintessential British as Sherlock Holmes, James Bond or Emma Peel. [Jim: be careful what you wish for, Dieter. You now have to deal with Sophie Turner as Lara in Amazon Prime’s adaptation!] In Charles Devereaux, this show offers Lara a villain who gives her the old, “You and me are actually very much alike” speech, as heard from Belloq in Raiders of the Lost Ark and Scaramanga in The Man with the Golden Gun, to emphasize the darker side of a hero. Nothing new here on this front.

A lot of effort goes into giving Lara a circle of friends, something less a factor in the games. But as every Bond has his Felix Leiter, every Indiana his Sallah, it’s only fair Lara also get her sidekicks! Interestingly, Lara’s arc is as an emotional vulnerable character, who finds her way back to humanity, in contrast to the villain who seems to lose his more and more. But the “coolness” of the original character, as seen in the early games and movies, has perhaps been lost in favour of her becoming a team player. It’s indicated that what prevents Lara from falling to her more negative instincts, is that she has friends who care for her, and help cope with her pain and grief. Devereaux is essentially alone, with no reason for him to overcome his anger, pain and wish for revenge. Richard Armitage gives a believable performance there. Yet she is still constantly trying to save her enemy. I suspect that “old Lara” would just have killed him when he attacked her, of that I’m quite sure.

There are a lot of small nods to previous games and films if you pay attention, beyond Lara doing parkour, reflecting her running and jumping around in the games. Things like a mention of the Trinity group, which appears in the Alicia Vikander movie, or her hallucinations of demons with a striking resemblance to the stone gargoyles that came alive in the first Jolie adventure. However, the show delivers only standard adventure, neither great nor bad; like so many things, it’s in the middle, just average. If you can cope with that, the show should entertain – no less, no more, with animation which similarly is fairly standard but satisfying enough. It provides the action and adventure I would expect from this genre. The one real flaw I see, is that it lacks the kind of humour, fun and levity I’d also deem essential elements of the Tomb Raider franchise. Lighten up a bit next time, Lara.

[Dieter]

Showrunner: Tasha Huo
Star (voice): Hayley Atwell, Earl Baylon, Richard Armitage, Allen Maldonado

The Baztan Trilogy

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The Baztan trilogy consists of three movies, based on the novels by Dolores Redondo. The setting for these is a small area in the Basque country of Spain, not far from the border with France. Much like the small-town English villages such as Miss Marple’s St. Mary Mead, or Death in Paradise‘s Honoré, the murder rate in this charming and picturesque area appears to rival that of a South American war-zone. I guess you can describe the series as Español negro, being a Mediterranean-based version of Nordic noir. Like those, you have a detective with a troubled past, a history that frequently seeps into her current life, They are investigating crimes resulting from what’s unquestionably the darker side of human nature, and the results are uncomfortably close to home.

In this trilogy, the heroine is Amaia Salazar, a former resident of the region who left under circumstances best described as murky. She joined the police force, rising through the ranks and going through a successful secondment to the FBI, where she distinguished herself. Amaia is now back in Spain, with her American artist husband, James. But, as ever in this kind of thing, the pull of her past is strong. She finds herself coming back to the Baztan region in which she grew up. There, the ghosts of history are lurking and ready to pose a challenge – perhaps equal to that of solving the brutal murders which are the reason for her return.

The trilogy includes the books El guardián invisible (The Invisible Guardian), Legado en los huesos (The Legacy of the Bones) and Ofrenda a la tormenta (Offering to the Storm). From 2017 through 2020, the books were made into three movies by Atresmedia Cine and its partners. Five years after the last of the books was published, Redondo wrote a prequel, La cara norte del corazón (The North Face of the Heart), describing Amaia’s youth and her time with the FBI in America. All four novels were optioned to Heyday Films for American adaptations in October 2021, but there has been almost no news since the original announcement. Still, with the Spanish movies all available on Netflix, the need for any English-language versions is questionable in my opinion. Such things rarely improve on, or even equal, the originals.

Hence, below you’ll find reviews of the three Spanish movies in order. Note: I haven’t read the books, so there will be no further discussion of them, or comparison to the films.

The Invisible Guardian

★★★½
“It’s never sunny in Baztan.”

I’ve traveled a fair bit around Spain and Mediterranean Europe in my time, and the weather was never as unremittingly grim as its depicted here. Things seem to unfold in a permanent downpour. Seriously: Chris and I pretty much were turning it into a drinking game by the end: take a swig every time a scene takes place in the rain. Only concern for the health of our livers prevented us. Googling tells me Baztan is fairly wet: around 55 inches a year. But it felt like most of that arrived during the 129 minute running-time of this film. I suspect David Fincher and Se7en have a lot to answer for, with rain = dark and foreboding atmosphere.

There’s certainly no shortage of that here, even setting meteorological considerations aside. It begins with the discovery of a young girl’s corpse by a river, stripped naked except for a local cake placed on her crotch. Pamplona detective Amaia Salazar (Etura) makes the connection to a previous murder and is sent to Baztan to take over the case. It’s the town where she grew up, and she still has family there. Though relations are still strained with her sister Flora (Mínguez), who runs a bakery in the town. She feels Amaia abandoned the family by “running off” to the United States. It’s not long before we discover their mother had issues, physically abusing Amaia as a child.

However, the main focus is the murders, with further victims turning up, all young girls whose bodies are posed in the same, ritualistic way. The investigation reveals these may be the latest in a series of killings going back fourteen years, which appear to be some kind of moral crusade by the perpetrator. Amaia gets into trouble with her colleagues, because one of the victims was having an affair with her brother-in-law, and she also conceals evidence connecting Flora’s bakery to the cake. She ends up being replaced on the case by Montés (Orella). If you think that’s going to stop Amaia, you clearly haven’t seen enough of this genre.

It does feel very much like the film could be relocated to the Scandinavian forests with very little trouble. There is some specifically local colour in the form of the “Basajaun”, a legendary – or perhaps not – creature, reputed to roam the woods. I suspect its going to play a larger part in the subsequent movies: while this does tidy up the main case, there are a number of loose ends, such as a cave containing a lot more remains. Etura does a good job of handling both the personal drama and the police elements: you may not agree with some of the choices, yet you can see why she made them. Amaia has been through hell, and that she still made something of her life is an admirable trait. A solid enough opening, which even lured Chris off her phone.

Dir: Fernando González Molina
Star: Marta Etura, Elvira Mínguez, Carlos Librado “Nene”, Francesc Orella

The Legacy of the Bones

★★★★
“Skeletons in the closet”

We jump ahead about a year for the second installment. Amaia Salazar (Etura) has now had the baby she announced she was expecting during the first film, and is adjusting to the need for balance between her career and motherhood, with her husband, James. After completing her maternity leave, she returns to work, and is put on a case of church desecration with cult undertones, at the request of the enigmatic Fr. Sarasola (Arias). This is tied to the Cagots, a historically persecuted group native to the region. Simultaneously, there is an ongoing string of murderers committing suicide, each leaving behind a one-word message: “Tartalo”. It’s a reference to a baby-eating giant from Basque mythology, and seems to be linked to the cave of remains found in the previous film.

Both cases take a deeply-personal turn, reflecting the family of Amaia’s long-standing association with the area. When tested for DNA, the bones left on the church altar are a match for her genetics, and her abusive mother Rosario (Sánchez), now kept in a psychiatric facility, scrawls “Taratalo” on the floor of the room in blood, after attacking an orderly.  Amaia is forced to uncover some very unpleasant truths about the history of her family – and, indeed, the way the region in general dealt with children perceived as unwanted or problematic. Her newborn son becomes part of the scenario as it unfolds, pushing the heroine close to the edge, as she picks her way towards solving the crimes of both the past and present.

This goes into some thoroughly dark places, building on the heavy atmosphere set up in the previous movie. For example, we already knew that Rosario is dangerous, and a patently unfit mother. But what we see her do in this film, goes beyond the mere abuse we previously saw. It’s fortunate that Amaia has a strong support network elsewhere in her family, such as Aunt Tía (Aixpuru), who can offer advice and assistance to help keep her niece on the relatively straight and narrow. To be honest, the revelations here would shake anyone to their core, and it’s testament to the heroine’s strength of character, that she is still able to function as a police detective, while the foundations of her life are being pulled out from under her.

The script does a very good job of keeping the multiple plot-threads functioning, moving each forward in turn, as information regarding the situation is discovered. While avoiding spoilers, it is a little hard to believe Amaia would be so in the dark about the situation in regard to her own family: you’d think Tia might have said something? However, there is an almost relentless grimness of tone here – and a lot more rain as well, with a flooded town being integral to the plot – which pulled me in with the inevitability of a rip tide. It might just about work as a standalone entity, yet you will certainly get more out of this, if you’ve seen the first movie and know where it’s coming from.

Dir: Fernando González Molina
Star: Marta Etura, Itziar Aizpuru, Imanol Arias, Susi Sánchez

Offering to the Storm

★★
“Gale force disappointment.”

Oh, dear. I think it’s probably been a very long while since I’ve been so underwhelmed by the finale of a trilogy. All the pieces were in place, after the first two entries, for a grandstand finish to the series. But the script basically fumbles things in every conceivable way, pushing to the front elements that you really don’t care about, while all but discarding things that seemed of crucial importance. There is an effort to tie everything together, with the various crimes from its predecessors being linked into an occult conspiracy in which members of a Satanic circle sacrifice baby girls, and receive worldly power in exchange. This aspect is okay, Amaia having to go up against a group whose power is embedded at the highest levels of local society. The creepiest element is perhaps that the sacrifices seem to work, though nobody seems too bothered about this. 

Unfortunately, it doesn’t gel well with the elements carried forward from the first two movies, and a lot of the elements that should be shocking or disturbing simple are not. The worst example is the identity of the cult’s “inside man”, which is so painfully obvious, you may find yourself yelling at the screen, and Amaia as she ploughs on with her investigation, completely oblivious to the threat. Little less blatant is the plot thread where husband James (Northover) is going back to America because his father is ill. We’ve seen enough in this genre to know that there is no possible way Amaia is going to end up accompanying him, regardless of how much she promises she will. The film seems convinced it is the first ever to use this device, to demonstrate how its dedicated, troubled detective has her priorities skewed. 

This somewhat ties into the whole fidelity subplot, which did nothing except make us (Chris especially) lose empathy for the lead character. In this installment, Amaia just does not seem as “heroic” as previously. I get that the pressure on her is building. But I would have preferred it to lean into the saying, “Hard times breed strong women.” There’s just too many occasions on which she breaks down and starts sobbing instead. Some of it may be justified: there’s the uncertainty about the fate of her mother, for example, who was last seen plunging into a flood-swollen mountain river. This is resolved. In about the least satisfactory way possible. At least it is addressed. Remember the “Basajaun”? Because the makers here clearly did not.

At 139 minutes, this is the longest of the trilogy, and you’ll be forgiven if you think it feels that way too. Rather than being led by the film, all too often we found ourselves ahead of it, and then having to wait for the plot and characters to catch up with what we had already figured out. We also ended up rolling our eyes heavily at some of the plot developments, such as the mother of a sacrificed baby acquiring some dynamite and using it to blow open the vault where her child is buried. Wait, what? It’s a shame, that after two films which did so much right, the third does goes wrong in so many different ways.

Dir: Fernando González Molina
Star: Marta Etura, Leonardo Sbaraglia, Carlos Librado “Nene”, Benn Northover

Deep Fear

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★★
“Shallow entertainment”

Naomi (Ghenea) is sailing a schooner single-handed in the Caribbean, returning it from Antigua to Grenada so it’ll be ready for a charter customer to take out. Her boyfriend, Jackson (Westwick) has already gone ahead to prepare things there. But a squall diverts Naomi off course, and she then stumbles across boat wreckage to which Maria (Gómez) and Jose (Coppet) are desperately clinging. They tell her there’s still a survivor trapped on the sea bottom, and Naomi dives down to rescue Tomas from his watery tomb. However, on returning to the surface with him, she gets a nasty surprise and finds her work is not over. For the survivors were also transporting 200 kg of cocaine.

Naomi is now key to salvaging it, whether she wants to be or not. Complicating matters is the presence of a large, predatory shark prowling the area, which makes simply going up and down from the sea bottom a perilous endeavour. Especially after one such encounter, where we get the immortal line, “The shark bit into the bags and now the shark is probably high on cocaine.” Sadly, hopes that this was going to become a sequel to Cocaine Bear never materialized [there is a film out there called Cocaine Shark, but it’s so bad, even a hardened connoisseur of badfilm like I, couldn’t get through the trailer] . Instead, there’s just an awful lot of sub-aqua shenanigans, and there’s really only so much SCUBA-ing I can take.

I will say, it all looks lovely. Malta actually stood in for the Caribbean, and if you’re looking for a picturesque tourist destination, combining beautiful scenery with clear water, it seems a good bet. However, as a thriller, it’s distinctly lacking in thrills, whether it’s a shark whose diet seems exclusively to consist of the bad people, through a cast for whom English is not their native tongue in many cases, to a heroine whose lips appear recently to have encountered a swarm of wasps [I note Ghenea’s credit in Zoolaander 2 as “Hot Shepherdess”]. The pacing is also off, especially early, when irrelevancies like Naomi and Jackson renting an apartment show up, serving no apparent purpose except delaying her arrival on the scene.

Gómez, whom you might remember from SexyKiller, is likely the best element the film has to offer, switching from cowering victim to manipulative sociopath. For instance, Maria conceals her nautical skills because if Naomi realizes she’s surplus to requirements after bringing up the coke, she might not be willing to do so. That kind of smarts is something the film needs to have more, ideally replacing the apparently endless amounts of moist mischief. I did like how the shark attacks don’t hold back on the blood, something you don’t see often. However, the creature rarely feels more than a toothy plot-device, thrown into scenes whenever the film-makers run out of other ways to generate tension. And that is far too often, to be honest.

Dir: Marcus Adams
Star: Mãdãlina Ghenea, Ed Westwick, Macarena Gómez, Stany Coppet

She season two

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★★★½
“Joining our story in progress…”

“Where’s season one?” you may be wondering. It’s a fair question: I thought I had reviewed it here, but there’s absolutely no sign of it on the site. Perhaps that one didn’t meet the necessary action quota? It is true that the first time the heroine shoots someone is the opening episode of the second part, and it thoroughly messes her up. Anyway, we’re here now. Said heroine is Indian policewoman Bhumika Pardeshi (Pohankar), who has been part of an operation to try and nail major narcotics dealer Nayak (Kumar). This involves her going undercover as a prostitute, in order to get into his circle and act as an informant there – obviously, this is a highly hazardous position for her. There’s a whole domestic situation to handle as well.

The first series was mostly about her relationship with one of Nayak’s lieutenants. In the second, she returns to the streets, with Nayak himself as the target. This alone also exposes Bhumika to danger, though she proves more than capable of taking care of herself against violent pimps. Indeed, this proves significant in the second half, after Nayak has supposedly been killed in a police operation. The truth is, he’s still operating, with Bhumika now his second-in-command, using the hookers to move drugs for him. Has she genuinely fallen for the crime boss? Or is this simply Bhumika embedding herself deeper, so his entire network can eventually be brought down?

This question is one which is at the core of the second series. How undercover is she, and how much is the experience going to change her as a result? By the end, the answer to the second part is clear. “A great deal”, to the point where Bhumika may not be able to resume her former life, either as a cop, or as a family woman. There’s a speech where she explains her feelings to Nayak, and how he gives her both love and respect, something she’d never received from a man before. It is thoroughly convincing, and gels with Bhumika not perhaps being “conventionally beautiful,” though she more than makes up for that in an intense and fiery charisma.

I suspect it probably counts as fairly raunchy by Bollywood standards, though this element would likely be PG-13 rated in the West. But it still doesn’t pull its punches, in its depiction of a society that is an enigmatic mix of old and new attitudes, both embracing and resisting change. I think I preferred this slightly more the first season, although without a grade to check, I can’t be certain! It feels like there is less emphasis on the domestic elements – the walking cliche who was Bhumika’s abusive and estranged husband, is barely there if at all. There’s definite scope for a third series, potentially pitting Bhumika directly against her commanding officer, Jason Fernandez (Kini). But before that, do I now need to go back and re-view season one? Stay tuned…

Creator: Imtiaz Ali
Star: Aaditi Pohankar, Kishore Kumar G, Vishwas Kini, Resh Limba

Miss Adrenaline: A Tale of Twins

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★★★
“Life going in cycles.”

The concept of twins, separated at birth, is one which has been used frequently in films and television. Sometimes for comedic effect, such as Arnold Schwarzenegger and Danny DeVito in Twins, or the two Jackie Chans in Twin Dragons. But also for dramatic impact: the most famous example is probably that of Luke and Leia in the Star Wars franchise, who were parted in order to hide them from their father. In our genre, Orphan Black works along similar lines. But this Colombian telenovela goes full-bore into it, across almost the entire duration of its sixty-seven episodes, with the concept a young woman adopting her twin’s identity being at the core of the show.

It begins with Romina Paez (Molina), who is a BMX champion in the Mirla, a poor neighbourhood. After winning a race, she uses the interview to rail against the loan sharks who prey on the locals, offering much-needed money at extortionate rates, and extracting repayment with brutal violence. This interview has two results. Firstly, the Chitiva brothers who run the loan sharkage, are unimpressed, and decide Romina should pay. Secondly, it brings Romina to the attention of rich girl Laura Vélez (also Molina), who sees Romina is her spitting image. She goes to investigate, and finds that they actually have a common mother. Mom used to work for Laura’s dad, got pregnant and had them both. Dad took Laura to his family as “an adoptee”, while Romina remained with her natural mother.

These two elements clash, when the Chitiva brothers order the assassination of Romina and her mother. Except, it’s actually Laura is killed, while visiting her mother in the barrio. Romina escapes, and decides the best option is to pretend to be dead, and indeed, pretend to be Laura. However, Romina/Laura is intent on bringing those responsible for “her” death to justice, and it’s not long before reports of Romina’s ghost haunting her old stomping grounds are passing around. Investigating from the position of law is honest cop Cristobal “Whiz” Ruíz, who eventually comes to know Romina’s secret. But in another twist, the crime lord at the top of the tree, above the Chitivas… is Laura’s mother, Virgina Vélez (León).

Yeah, it’s a fairly ridiculous concept, and what unfolds over the rest of the show often teeters on the brink of implausibility. While I get the “twins” thing, the idea that after twenty entirely separate years of upbringing, in utterly different circumstances, they would still perfectly resemble each other physically, to the extent that even their own parents can’t tell them apart, strains credulity. Romina basically blames everything from the sudden loss of memory to her changes in personality on a head injury, and after a quick visit to the doctor, who naturally pronounces her right as rain, that’s the end of the matter. She still has to manage her double life, and the ever-expanding circle of people who know about it, on both sides of the class divide.

Inevitably, there’s a whole lot of soap-opera nonsense going on here, across the uniformly photogenic cast. Laura’s boyfriend falls for Romina, Whiz falls for Romina, Whiz’s colleague falls for him, and it all gets incredibly messy emotionally. This is probably the least interesting part of the show, though it does occasionally work. The final episode, for example, has Whiz pouring out heart in wedding karaoke, but it’s done with such obvious and heartfelt sincerity, that it powers past the obvious schmaltzy aspects, and I was genuinely happy for the man. On the other side, Leo Chitiva (Bury) is the most interesting of the low-level villains. He’s another one who loved Romina, but his criminal life is incompatible with that, leaving him with difficult, yet interesting, choices.

I say “low-level,” because I think my favourite character is likely Virginia, especially as the show proceeds and she needs to become increasingly ruthless (as shown, top) as she struggles to escape the net closing around her. I would love to have seen a prequal series, explaining in more details exactly how she went from humble origins, both to running a major criminal organization, and also marrying her, apparently utterly oblivious husband. I get that some spouses are oblivious to their other halves being a serial killer, and also there’s Virginia’s “charitable foundation” which probably operates as a front. Still, I suspect I’d have at least something of a clue, if Chris was running the Cuban mafia out of the office here.

There is a bit of weirdness here: the Colombian version of the show runs for 67 episodes, but there are only 65 on Netflix. It’s possible there may also be differences in the ordering, but I haven’t been able to confirm that. I’m not sure why two episodes would not be available on Netflix. While other streaming services have removed episodes for content (such as the blackface episodes on It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia, I can’t think of anything here which would be so contentious. My instinct might be music rights: the show uses a lot of popular Colombian songs and artists, and getting clearance globally could have proved too problematic. I can’t say I noticed at the time, though it isn’t really the kind of show that demands 100% of your attention.

I would like to have seen Romina make more use of her BMX skills. This is significantly stressed earlier, but definitely fades out of the picture as we get deeper into things. But between Virginia and some of the other women characters, such as Whiz’s partner Alex Bedoya (Camila Rojas), who is occasionally a bit of a bad-ass, it does end up qualifying for the site. It ends more or less as you would expect, but if my somewhat shaky Spanish is to be believed, there is a second series on the way. Though with the Spanish language title perhaps being Romina Embarazada, which translates as “Pregnant Romina,” I’m not certain I’ll be writing about it here!

Dir: Rafael Martínez Moreno 
Star: Juanita Molina, David Palacio, Zharick León, Kevin Bury 
a.k.a. Romina Poderosa 

Good Morning, Verônica: season two and three

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★★★
“Good afternoon and good night.”

I’ll treat these two seasons as one entity. Indeed, there’s a case to be made that you could include the first season as well, given the way they are inter-connected. However, it feels that the second and third are more directly linked. If you recall, the initial series had Sao Paolo cop Verônica Torres (Müller) looking into a domestic abuse case. However, this turns out not be as simple as it appears, with the abuser being protected by a mafia-like group, whose tentacles are embedded in a selection of power structures, including the police force. Series #2 and #3 take a broader scope, Verônica looking to take down elements of the group, and end their systemic abuse of women.

The second series focuses on Verônica’s efforts against a church run by sketchy and abusive faith healer Matias (Gianecchini). He has a line in inviting poor hurt souls – albeit only attractive, young women – to stay on the church’s property, where bad stuff happens to them. His wife is firmly beneath Matias’s thumb, and Verônica is now operating more less unofficially, though with tacit help from some on the force. Her only hope is to get to the daughter, Angela (Castanho), who is lesbian because Netflix. If she can convince Angela her father is not the saint his public persona appears to be, they might have a chance to expose his crimes. But doing so simply removes another layer of the conspiracy, with the shadowy “Doúm” remaining at large.

Which is where the third series comes in, as she finds Doúm to be horse breeder Jeronimo (Santoro). Initially, he seems on her side, which is remarkably naive of her, because he set my alarm bells ringing from the very start. Doesn’t help that he looks like a creepy combination of Liam Neeson, Kid Rock and Tommy Wiseau. And that’s before we learn about the questionable relationship with his mother, or that he grew up in the same abusive orphanage as Marias. Such concerns are very justified, because it turns out Jeronimo is not just breeding horses for fun and profit. He has his eye on both Angela and Verônica’s daughter, as the next brood mares, ready to be auctioned off to rich clients.

I felt it all got a little silly and excessive in the third season, with the plot requiring events which stretched plausibility to a breaking point. It’s likely a good thing it was only half the length of the second series, at three episodes rather than six. While it ends with Verônica looking to continue the fight for justice in her extra-legal capacity, the show was canceled, and I feel that’s wise given the steadily diminishing returns. There was a nice sense of circularity, series 3 ending in a suicide, the way the very first episode opened. However, the televisual cycle of abuse was becoming repetitive, although both the second and third seasons had some interesting revelations about Verônica’s family background. While Müller’s performance held things together, it’s likely better this stopped too soon, rather than too late.

Creator: Raphael Montes
Star: Taina Müller, Reynaldo Gianecchini, Klara Castanho, Rodrigo Santoro

High-Rise Invasion

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★★★
“Writer’s tower block.”

This animated series bears a certain resemblance to another Japanese show on Netflix, the live-action Alice in Borderland. Both are adaptations of Japanese manga series (Alice started three years earlier), which see a number of young people suddenly transported to a lethal and sparsely populated version of their city. There, they have to figure out how to survive, and what the heck is going on, in the face of enemies human and… well, not-so human. Both shows also manage to reach the end of their first series without achieving even the slightest degree of significant resolution, though the journey to reach that point is still reasonably entertaining, and certainly does not stint on the old ultra-violence.

The fact that High-Rise Invasion is reviewed here should give you a clue to another difference. The protagonist here is Yuri Honjō (Shiraish), a schoolgirl who finds herself on top of a network of skyscrapers connected by rope-bridges. There’s no way down – except to plummet to your death. That’s a fate encouraged by mask-wearing opponents, who appear to be mind-controlled, and whose goal is to drive those without masks to suicide. Or failing that, simply to kill them. Yuri teams up with another girl, Mayuko Nise (Aoki), who has the skills necessary to survive. They seeks for Yuri’s brother, Rika (Enoki), as well as the truth about what is going on, and a way back to the normal world.

It’s certainly a concept that grabbed my attention, and the approach here doesn’t stint on the splatter, with torrents of gore. There’s a nice variety of opponents, each of whom have retained something of their original personalities, and wield their own weapons, ranging from swords to baseballs (!). The first few episodes are excellent, with Yuri struggling to find her footing in this bizarre and murderous setting, and learn the rules by which it operates. The problem is, it increasingly feels as if these were made up as the show went along. For example, sometimes the control of a mask is iron-clad and inescapable. Sometimes, it’s basically no more than giving suggestions to a wearer who retains their free-will, and feels contrived as a result.

The larger arc is not bad. The show finishes with both sides having to team up in order to defeat the near god-level creature known as “Archangel,” who basically sees all humanity as evil and is intent on purging it from the world. By the end of the twelfth 25-minute episode, however, it doesn’t feel like you have moved enormously far or learned a great deal. Yuri is still looking for her brother. We don’t know who is running the whole endeavour, and nor is anyone much closer to finding a way out. There’s a certain unevenness of tone too, with odd moments of slapstick and panty shots, that feel at odds with the grimdark approach. I was adequately entertained, yet the apparent lack of a second season generates no great sense of loss.

Written: Masahiro Takata and Tōko Machida
Star (voice): Haruka Shiraishi, Shiki Aoki, Yūichirō Umehara, Junya Enoki