Enola Holmes 2

★★★½
“The fair sex is your department.”

I had forgotten how much I really did not like the original movie. It’s particularly hard to believe, because this sequel is a significant improvement in just about every way. Most of my criticisms from the review seem to have been addressed. For example, the most annoying character, Enola’s mother, played by Helena Bonham-Carter, is all but absent, and the second most useless role, aristocrat Lord Tewkesbury (Partridge), is considerably less irritating, serving an actual purpose. Sherlock Holmes (Cavill) is shown to be the great detective, familiar from Conan Doyle’s stories. Last but not least, Enola (Brown) is a more mature, less precocious character, and even her fourth-wall breaking seems more natural and less an affectation. 

The story is better too. It begins with Enola, now trying to make her own way as a detective, is engaged to look for a missing young woman, who has vanished from her match factory job, after purloining some documents from the owner’s office. Digging into this brings Enola into a web of corruption extending high up in the government, and eventually overlaps with Sherlock’s investigation into financial irregularities in the Treasury department. Enola finds herself framed for murder by the shadowy Superintendent Grail (Thewlis) of Scotland Yard, and has to avoid the authorities’ grasp, while working with her brother to untangle the web of intrigue. It doesn’t quite all work – the overlap with Sherlock’s case is never well explained – yet it is almost always interesting and entertaining. 

The biggest step up is likely Brown’s portrayal of the heroine. Two years is a long time for a teenager: we saw our own daughter go from a problematic 16-year-old to an 18-year-old human being, and much the same transformation has occurred here. Similarly, Enola now seems like an actual person, not the artificial character created for a book. Her relationships – especially with her brother, though also with Tewkesbury – reflect this, and seem like the kind real people would have. The near-absence of showboating feminist Eudoria Holmes helps, though there are still moments that may provoke slight to moderate eye-rolling. I’d say the finale at the match factory falls into this category, and is certainly unnecessary. 

The action feels at a slightly lower, or at least, less frenetic level. The main set-piece is Enola’s breakout from prison (this is also where her mum shows up, along with her martial arts teacher sidekick). It’s not bad, though does feel more like a duty, and an add-on instead of an organic part of the movie. The incorporation into the plot of an actual event, the matchgirl strike of 1888, is a nice idea, grounding the plot, though does become a vehicle for some obvious soap-boxing. “Radical” maybe isn’t quite the compliment the film thinks. In the main, however, this was a very pleasant and unexpected surprise, whose 130 minutes seemed considerably shorter. Bring on a third installment, and hopefully sooner rather than later. 

Dir: Harry Bradbeer
Star: Millie Bobby Brown, Henry Cavill, Louis Partridge, David Thewlis

Borrego

★½
“Borrego? BORE-rego, more like…”

Sorry, couldn’t resist it. For the recent string of suboptimal Netflix movies continues with this tedious bit of work, which feels like the first journey across the South Californian desert filmed in real time. It begins with Ellie (Hale), a botanist carrying out a survey near the Mexican border. She meets a teenage girl, Alex (Trujillo), who is skipping school and the two have an awkward conversation. I initially thought its stilted nature was intended to tell us something about the two characters, but nope. All the conversations here are awkward. Writer-director Harris just has no ear for dialogue, which may explain why so much of this is people wandering about instead.

Anyway, the plot proper kicks off when Ellie witnesses a plane crash nearby. Rushing to the scene, without any attempt to call for help, she finds the pilot, Tomas (Gomez) crawling from the wreckage with his cargo of drugs. At gunpoint, she is coerced into helping him carry what remains of the merchandise to its delivery point, where the intended recipient is growing increasingly antsy. Meanwhile, the only local cop (Gonzalez) is on the hunt, both for the missing botanist, and Alex, who is his daughter. All these plot threads lead to the copious trudging across the terrain mentioned above. Though people also bump into each other with the frequency required by the plot, so that the desert appears to be the size of your local convenience store.

Things unfold with the predictability of the sun in this arid corner of the country. Tomas and Ellie bond over their campfire, Tomas’s grasp of English waxing and waning as necessary. Turns out he was only involved in this sordid business to help his family, a casual excuse used by criminals since time immemorial, which cuts no ice with me. Hell, even antsy intended recipient says the same thing. We can clearly end the War On Drugs, by killing every drug dealer’s family, to remove their motivation! The movie opens and closes with po-faced captions about the societal problem of drug abuse, both prescribed and otherwise. I think if you need a Netflix original movie to tell you, “Drugs are bad, m’kay?”, there are bigger problems.

You will get an hour and a half of the various parties, showcasing some rather pretty locations, in lieu of anything approaching genuine tension or action: a car hitting a cactus is as close as we get. The photography is easily the best thing about this, with some excellent aerial footage that brings home the scope of where the participants roam. However, I did not sign up to watch “Drones Above the South-West”, and any goodwill generated falls into a canyon, as a result of the poor excuse for a climax. I’d not blame you for tuning out well before that point, however. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but it’s all almost enough to make me wish for the ludicrous stupidity of Interceptor

Almost

Dir: Jesse Harris
Star: Lucy Hale, Nicholas Gonzalez, Leynar Gomez, Olivia Trujillo

Lou

★★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

Never Back Down: Revolt

★★★½
“The women are revolting!”

The “underground fighting” subgenre is among the most macho of action films, so it’s interesting that this entry doesn’t just feature a female protagonist. It’s also written and directed by women, with the lead villain also from that gender. It’s a particularly novel twist, considering the previous three installments in the Never Back Down franchise were, by most accounts, competent yet entirely generic, male-dominated movies. I say “by most accounts,” since I’ll confess to not having seen them. This is both a positive and a negative, I think. It means I can go into this with no preconceptions or expectations. On the other hand, it also means I can’t compare it to the rest of the series.

The latter is perhaps less important since it seems to be a sequel in name only, without any characters or story-line carrying forward. The heroine is Anya (Popica), a Chechen refugee now living in London with her brother, Aslan (Bastow), who takes part in those underground fights. After failing to throw a fight, he finds himself thirty grand in debt to some very nasty people. But Anya, who’s no novice with her own fists, gets an offer from swanky promoter Mariah (Johnston) to help pay off the arrears with a trip to Italy. Naturally, it turns out to be a front for “fight trafficking”, with the female participants held against their will, and shipped off to Albanian brothels, when they can no longer battle for the amusement of rich patrons. The title tells you the rest of the plot.

Madison isn’t without an action pedigree, having directed rather good short, The Gate, starring site favourite Amy Johnston. That’s currently being shopped around to become a feature; fingers crossed that happens. In the meantime, this would appear to match its predecessors in being competent, yet entirely generic. Everything unfolds exactly as you would expect, if you’re at all familiar with this kind of thing. It’s the kind of film where you can pop into the kitchen for 10 minutes without pausing it, make a sandwich and a cup of coffee, and return, safe in the knowledge that you’ll still be able to follow the plot perfectly well. I can neither confirm nor deny having done exactly that.

While predictable, it’s never dull though. Popica doesn’t appear to have any particular martial arts background, yet is decent enough to pass muster (even if you wonder what someone like Amy Johnston might have done in the part). There’s a laudable and complete lack of romance here, just the sibling relationship. I could probably have used some more action, even if the quality of what there is, is decent. I particularly liked the fate meted out to the chief guard. The size issue, inevitably present in mixed-gender fights, is overcome by having him held down by two women in a bath, while a third shanks him very enthusiastically. In comparison, Ghislaine Maxwell Mariah seems to get off easy, just when I was looking forward to her getting her just deserts. Still, solid enough to leave me anticipating what The Gate feature might be like.

Dir: Kellie Madison
Star: Olivia Popica, Tommy Bastow, Brooke Johnston, Nitu Chandra

Seventh Son

★★★
“Son of a witch…”

Despite generally terrible reviews, this is definitely not, by any means, a terrible movie. It is, admittedly, a fairly generic sword-and-sorcery flick, in which a hero must rise from a common background to save the world from a terrible magical threat. But it looks spiffy – the hundred million dollar budget is on the screen. If the central performance has its issues, there’s enough around the fringes to make both for an adequately entertaining experience, and also merit the existence of a review here. In particular, the main antagonist is the evil witch Mother Malkin (Moore). She escapes from the prison to which she had been confined years ago by Gregory (Bridges), now the last survivor of his order of witch-hunters.

Malkin seeks revenge, but only succeeds in killing Gregory’s apprentice, Jon Snow [okay, it’s just Kit Harrington, but this works well enough as a Game of Thrones side-quest]. With just a few days before Malkin’s powers are fully unlocked, he needs a replacement, stat. That is pig farmer’s son, Tom Ward (Barnes), whose lineage provides him with the necessary talents to help fight Mother Malkin. Maybe… Things are, naturally, complicated on the fringes, by Tom’s growing relationship with half-witch Alice (Vikander), for she is also Malkin’s niece, and if uncertain loyalties. On the other hand, Tom owns the Umbran Stone, which his mother – at the time an acolyte of Mother Malkin – had stolen from her mistress, and which multiplies the abilities of any witch who possesses it.

In other words, a smorgasbord of Young Adult fantasy tropes, and there are a few plot-holes, e.g. why doesn’t Malkin just hole up for a few days to acquire her full powers? However, the execution of things here has some positives, in particular the energetic commitment of both Moore and Bridges [It’s a Big Lebowski reunion: I leave it to you to write your own joke there]. The former delivers a no-holds barred approach, getting good support from Antje Traue as Malkin’s sister, Bony Lizzie.  The witches depicted here are certainly independent, strong women. They’re just not very nice. Meanwhile, Gregory has a clear zero-tolerance policy for witches, something which brings him into conflict with Tom, and Bridges’s mumbling feels a bit reminiscent of his performance in True Grit. Once you get used to that, it’s a far bit of fun to watch. 

I think Bodrov’s lack of Hollywood experience may have been the main issue. While Bridges and Moore are experienced enough not to need much direction, the same isn’t true of Barnes, despite his previous fantasy role as Prince Caspian. Tom is simply bland and uninteresting. If the movie had concentrated on Gregory and Malkin, I’d probably have liked it a lot more. As is, whenever the hero is on-screen, I tended to find myself admiring the pretty backdrops and production design instead. Though I’ve not read the book by Joseph Delaney on which this was based, we did review the later series entry, I am Grimalkin. Done properly, I’d certainly not mind seeing that made into a film. However, the tepid response to this killed any hopes for a franchise: Grimalkin will likely have to remain a creature of my imagination.

Dir: Sergei Bodrov
Star: Ben Barnes, Jeff Bridges, Alicia Vikander, Julianne Moore

Interceptor

★½
“Why Netflix is a joke.”

Two minutes in, Chris turned to me and said, “Is this an Asylum movie?” Oh, that she had been right, for the net results might have been more entertaining. This is truly the dumbest film I have seen in a very long time. It feels like a throwback in content to about thirty years ago, except with a script that makes your average Cannon product look like Citizen Kane. It’s set on a missile interceptor station in the middle of the Pacific, to which Captain J. J. Collins (Pataky) has just been assigned again. Barely has she dropped her bags off in her cabin, when word comes that their sister base in Alaska has gone dark, and terrorists have stolen 16 Russian ICBMs. Before you can say “shitty Die Hard knockoff”, trust-fund kid Alexander Kessel (Bracey) shows up, intent on removing America’s last line of defense. It’s up to J.J. and plucky SigInt guy Rahul Shah (Mehta) to prevent them – or the terrorists will have won, literally. 

Writer-director Reilly is, I believe, a popular author of thrillers. I say that, because there’s no evidence here he could write his way out of a paper-bag, with so many, painfully obvious plot-holes. The way the terrorists pointlessly go public with their theft. Kessel and his minions kill everyone on the platform except J.J. and Shahul, keeping them alive for no reason. The villain has codes which will sink the base, yet doesn’t use them until only 30 minutes are left. I could go on. It’s a parade of eye-rolling inanity, made worse by cringeworthy dialogue, such as the line shoehorned in to explain the lead actress’s heavy Spanish accent. The final nail is the irrelevant wokeness, from J.J’s sexual harassment past, through the redneck henchmen and her Muslim sidekick, to the female US President (who is completely useless, incidentally). If only Reilly had put as much thought into his script, as his virtue signalling. 

To be fair, I didn’t mind Pataky as a heroine, and the action is occasionally up to what I wanted. There’s a decent brawl with the female terrorist (played by stuntwoman Ingrid Kleinig), and a couple of imaginative deaths, including the novel use of a firearm. However, the rest of the performances are almost uniformly terrible, and the story had lost me entirely, well before the ridiculous finale. While Netflix Originals come in for a lot of criticism, I’ve enjoyed my fair share: The Old Guard was decent, and Extraction (starring Mr. Elsa Pataky, Chris Hemsworth, who cameos here) was as good as any action movie of 2020. Hell, I even enjoyed 6 Underground. So I’m no snob. This, however, was bad enough to have us reconsidering our subscription to the streaming service, once we polish off watching Stranger Things. With the price also increasing sharply, the reality is that you can find considerably better movies than this for free. Certainly, I’ve better things to do with my time and money. 

Dir: Matthew Reilly
Star: Elsa Pataky, Luke Bracey, Aaron Glenane, Mayen Mehta

Senora Acero: Season three

★★
“Third time’s the harm”

Halfway through the final installment, Chris came in. She paused, watching for a moment, then said, “They spend far too much time talking, and not enough time killing.” Just a shame she waited 93 episodes to express so succinctly one of the main problems with the series. For, even if the final arc had its share of bloodshed, if you average it out per show, it’s about the level of a mid-strength nosebleed. It certainly put the novela into narconovela. Though the problems began at the start – or, rather, the end of the second series where heroine Sara Aguilar was apparently gunned down. This being a show where escape from death was common, I spent the first 20 episodes waiting for her to return. Spoiler: she doesn’t.

Instead, attention turns to Vicenta “La Coyote” Rigores (Miranda), who turns out to be part of the Acero family. This brings her into conflict with all the Acero enemies, including Indio (Zárate), and Governor of Chihuahua, Chucho Casares (Goyri), who also runs an arms trafficking group. But she has allies on her side, including ICE agent Daniel Phillips (Franco), and some familiar faces from the first two seasons. That’s a very high overview. As you can imagine, with about 62 hours of episodes in this season to fill, there are a lot of threads being weaved (So. Many, Pregnancies) and chit-chat necessary to explain them all, as loyalties shift with the breeze.

Part of the problem is, how little of it has any impact. Another part is, as a legal immigrant to America, I am fiercely resistant to a heroine who smuggles people across the border – and that was even before the not-so veiled references to American politics. The two main ICE characters, Phillips and his boss Indio Cardena, are both depicted as corrupt – even if, in the former’s case, it’s a “good” kind of corruption, becoming sympathetic to migrants and their plight. Though on the evidence of this show, based on who’s crossing the border illegally, Trump may have had a point when he said Mexico weren’t sending their best… Say what you like about Sara Aguilar, she at least largely operated in her own country.

Another problem. Writing about the second series, I described supporting character Tuti as “our most “love to hate” character. Not just in the show, or narconovelas generally, but perhaps the history of our TV viewing.” Guess who gets an expanded role in season three? Nails on glass, people. There are some new characters I liked – hell, Cardena, until she went rogue – but it wasn’t enough. I was amused by how narconovela weddings go wrong with about the inevitability of pro wrestling weddings. Whether raided by ICE or the bride getting gunned down in her dress, while her groom is involved in a fist-fight, they never take place as intended.

With about 20 episodes to go, I came to the conclusion this would be the last season I would watch. While the action component did ramp up somewhat down the stretch, it wasn’t enough to make me second-guess my decision. With a further two seasons, totalling 146 more episodes, I was hard-pushed to see the show coming back, and so am content to draw a line under the Acero dynasty after this series.

Creator: Roberto Stopello
Star: Carolina Miranda, Luis Ernesto Franco, Jorge Zárate, Sergio Goyri

The Girl and the Gun

★★★
“The equalizer”

The protagonist is a young woman (Gutierrez), who works in a department store in Quezon City, the largest city in the Philippines. Her life is one of constant drudgery, with what income not spent on her tiny, shared apartment, being sent home to her mother in the countryside. She can’t afford to buy new stockings to replace her torn ones – a fact which brings her into conflict with her manager – or even go out with colleagues for drinks after work. She has a lecherous landlord, and is treated by everyone as the perpetual doormat she is.

Then she finds a gun.

She initially does nothing with the weapon, discarded in the alley by her apartment building. But after being sexually assaulted, she picks it up, and everything changes – it gives her a voice, both literally and psychologically. The key trigger (pun intentionally) is using it to rescue her flat-mate from being assaulted by her boyfriend. She then suddenly realizes she doesn’t need to take it anymore: whether “it” is her boss harassing her about the stockings, or simply a shop worker being rude to her. Having the weapon gives her the confidence to stand up for herself, a surprisingly radical concept. Perhaps a variant of “An armed society is a polite society,” as Robert A. Heinlein once said.

Then she offers to help her flat-mate handle the abusive boyfriend permanently… But will she take the final step and go through with it? Hold that thought though, because the film then takes a left turn, diverting to tell the story of the weapon, and how it ended up in the alley. This is, unfortunately, a misstep in cinematic terms, with a segment which does not travel anywhere nearly as well as the first half. It’s a rather impenetrable story of death squads, corrupt cops, drug dealers and familes, which I can only presume, reflects life in the underbelly of urban life in the Philippines. It seemed, to me, like a pointless diversion that didn’t say much of interest about anything, and when the film eventually returns to the “girl” part of the equation, any forward momentum had been lost.

That’s a pity, as there were points when it seemed like an Asian take on Ms. 45, with its heroine almost mute until the point at which she powers up with a fire-arm. This heroine is considerably more sympathetic, in part because she shows considerably more restraint. While she fantasizes about killing her rapist, for example. she doesn’t actually pull the trigger on him. However, as well as the unwanted diversion into the history of her weapon, the ending is less polished. It’s one of those open ones, where the audience has to decide what happens. These tend to feel like a cop-out, as if the writer couldn’t come up with a proper way to finish the film. Still, the first fifty minutes do enough, to make this worth a watch.

Dir: Rae Red
Star: Janine Gutierrez, Felix Roco, JC Santos, Elijah Canlas
a.k.a. Babae at baril

Black Crab

★★★
“Let slip the slogs of war…”

Rapace seems to be turning into a female version of Ryan Reynolds. By which I mean, it seems that hardly a month goes past without a new Netflix Original coming out starring her. Ryan had 6 Underground, Red Notice and The Adam Project. Noomi has given us What Happened to Monday, The Trip and, now, this. Still, much as with Reynolds, I’m happy to see her working regularly, and while the results may be a bit variable, they’re usually worth a look. This is no different, though I’m not sure whether its story, driven by a (largely generic) war in the Eastern half of Europe, is helped or hurt by its timing. On the one hand, it gives this a certain “ripped from the headlines” topicality. On the other, I largely watch movies to escape everyday life, not have my nose rubbed in it.

Rapace plays Caroline Edh, who was split up from her daughter in the war’s early stages and has never been able to find her in the years since, as the conflict has turned her homeland into a meat-grinder. Now a soldier, she gets talked into a perilous mission that could turn the tide of the war, with the promise that her child is on the far end of it. She’ll be part of a group of six, skating across a treacherous frozen archipelago in enemy territory, to deliver a package – with the usual, stern “Don’t dare open it” warnings – to a research facility.

I do wonder why they sent a group: it’s not as if the package is large. One person, the quickest skater going undercover, could potentially slide beneath the radar, when a platoon of soldiers attracts more attention. I suspect it’s simply so the various perils, of thin ice, enemy combatants and unfriendly locals, can thin the herd of the operation. Some of them are so thinly-drawn, the makers might as well have slapped a red shirt on them, and been done with it. However, it’s still an impressively filmed, brutal slog of a journey, across a hellish landscape, which will have you reaching for a warm blanket and cup of cocoa. This likely reaches its peak when the group stumble into an ice graveyard: it’s quite the imagery.

We are, of course, here for Rapace, who learned to skate and broke her nose during filming. Despite one of the ugliest hair-styles in her filmography, her performance, along with the visuals, keep things adequately interesting, when the plot and supporting characters often fail to do so. In particular, the last half-hour (though it runs 114 minutes, so there’s quite a lot before that point) is almost entirely predictable, with the big twist actually weakening the lead character, by making Edh seem too gullible for her own good. Consequently, the subsequent redemption feels a bit too much of an uphill struggle. And even a novice like me knows that skating uphill is a tough ask…

Dir: Adam Berg
Star: Noomi Rapace, Jakob Oftebro, Dar Salim, Ardalan Esmaili

Wentworth

★★★★
“Sheilas behind bars.”

Back in the eighties, there was an Australian women-in-prison soap opera called Prisoner Cell Block H. [It was called Prisoner on its home turf, but was renamed in the UK and US, to avoid confusion with The Prisoner] It ran for eight seasons, totalling 692 (!) episodes, and achieved a fair bit of cult status, mostly through late-night screenings on TV. Much of its reputation was based on “so bad it’s good” elements, such as the wobbly sets; a review calls it, “one of the most bizarre, violent, lesbian-fetishy-heart-warming dramas ever created.” The show concluded its run in 1986, but was never forgotten.

More than 25 years later, the concept was rebooted in 2013 as Wentworth, and enjoyed a renaissance. While also running for eight seasons, rather than trash (not that there’s anything wrong with that, mind you!), this version proved to be remarkably well made. It likely helped that the remake’s production schedule here was rather less frantic, ending at exactly 100 episodes last October. The show is currently ranked by the IMDb in the top 250 TV series of all time, and was sold to over 90 countries, achieving a worldwide audience, thanks in part to its distribution on streaming services like Netflix and Amazon Prime.

It spawned local remakes in a number of countries. The Dutch was the most successful, running for four seasons, but Belgium, Germany and Turkey also took the show and recreated it. [Here is as good a place as any to mention that back in 1982, there was a male spin-off of the original show called Punishment. Though it lasted only one season, the cast included some guy called Mel Gibson…] Indeed, the Turkish one, known on Netflix as The Yard, was reviewed here in August 2020. That review began, “I really must get round to reviewing Wentworth.” And eighteen months later, here we are…

It’s a show I’ve thought about covering on a number of occasions over its run, but now that it’s finished, I feel I can finally do it justice. I definitely can’t argue with the acclaim it has received. For Wentworth features a slew of extremely strong female characters, including one of the most memorable villainesses in TV history, and maintained a high degree of dramatic quality from beginning to end. That’s rare for a series; even classics like Buffy dropped off after a certain point, with commercial motivations typically surpassing artistic ones. Not so here, with the eighth series virtually as strong as the first.

One element, which it does share with its predecessor, is that the setting is the “star”, rather than any performer. I think this certainly helped contribute to its longevity, and sustained the show’s freshness. If one of the actresses began to feel jaded, and wanted out, their character could be replaced by another. The prison scenario meant there were always new arrivals potentially coming in, and scope for departures too, without excessively disrupting the overall structure. If you look at many of the ultra-long running shows, e.g. Dr Who or the many incarnations of Law and Order, they have a similar ability to rotate their cast seamlessly.

Not to say there weren’t main characters – many of them with the names and/or backgrounds as their “ancestors” in Cell Block H. But they tended to have arcs across three or four years; few lasted the full eight, mostly on the guard side. This timeframes was long enough to allow for fulfilling development, without getting stale. The first such was Bea Smith (Cormack), who arrives at Wentworth after attempting to murder her husband, following years of abuse. She becomes involved in the struggle for “Top Dog” status – the role of the most powerful prisoner – between two existing inmates, only to end up becoming Top Dog herself. However, it’s a lonely position, where you always have to watch your back, and allies can suddenly become enemies.

One such was the character mentioned above: Joan Ferguson (Rabe), known as ‘The Freak’ (left). She joined the show as the new governor of Wentworth in season 2, and was, to be blunt, a clinical psychopath, devoid of empathy and incredibly manipulative. She was also very smart, a lethal combination. However, it’s not enough to save her from ending up a prisoner in the jail herself. The first episode of season 5, where Ferguson is released into the general population was, for me, peak Wentworth, and one of the best 45 minutes of television I’ve seen, in any genre.

Remarkably, she didn’t just survive this reversal of fortune, but thrived. She took over as Top Dog. until an escape plan misfired, ending in her being buried alive by long-serving prison officer Will Jackson (Robbie Magasiva)). But you can’t keep a good villainess down, though it appeared the trauma led to amnesia, with Ferguson subsequently using a different name and with a completely different personality. Was this genuine, or another of her ruses? I couldn’t possibly reveal that. What I will do though, is laud a glorious performance by Rabe, who at six feet tall, has a remarkable physical presence, backed up by ferocious intensity. She’s Cersei Lannister on steroids. And without the incest.

In general, it’s perhaps less exploitative than you might expect, with nudity only when genuinely necessary to the plot, rather than for titillation purposes. On the other hand, the show does not soft-pedal the brutality of prison life, with violence and death a common occurrence. Inmates tend to handle their own infractions internally, the Top Dog having the ability to impose punishments for theft, deceit or, perhaps the worst offense of all, “lagging” i.e. talking to prison authorities. It would definitely be rated a hard R, purely for its authentically no-holds barred language. Boy, do the Aussies love themselves a good c-bomb – even more than us Scots!

There were, admittedly, times where the story-lines seemed to get away from the creators. A few threads did appear to be ended, rather than properly resolved. But considering the 70+ hours of television the show represented, such misfires proved remarkably few. The writers definitely had a talent for juggling multiple plot threads and keeping them all moving forward simultaneously. In the end though, it was the actresses (and actors) who made this show what it was, and which kept us coming back for the best part of a decade. If not our favourite show ever on Netflix, it’s definitely up there with the very best.

Creators: Lara Radulovich and David Hannam
Star: Danielle Cormack, Pamela Rabe, Kate Atkinson, Katrina Milosevic