Range Runners

★★
“The loneliness of the long-distance runner”

Mel (Cooper) is engaged on a project of running the Appalachian Trail (or a convincing facsimile thereof), with some help from her sister, who meets her at various points to provide support and fresh supplies. Mel is currently on her own, starting an eight-day section of the hike where she’ll be out of contact. However, she bumps into a couple of suspicious characters, deep in the woods: Wayland (Leonard) and his partner, Jared (Woods). Initially, it seems like a creepy, but one-off random meeting. It turns out to be considerably more and subsequent encounters escalate, until Mel is sent plummeting over the edge of a drop-off, badly injuring her leg, but in possession of something very important to Wayland and Jared. Will she be able to escape her pursuers and make it to safety?

A good chunk of this effectively takes place inside the heroine’s head, as she pushes through the forest. There are flashbacks, in particular, to her youth when she was an athlete in training, being coached by her father. His approach was very much one of tough love, with the emphasis on “tough”, and a fondness for aphorisms, such as “[Your body] doesn’t tell you what to do, it’s the other way around.” It seems to have done the trick, giving Mel the mental toughness necessary to cope with the situation. However, it doesn’t exactly make for thrilling cinema, and considering the film runs 112 minutes, a little of this kind of thing goes a long way.

This is nicely photographed, it must be said, and the wooded location is used effectively, setting up a world in which a threat conceivably lurks behind every trunk and branch. The issues are much more with the plot, which fails on a number of levels. Not least, is the lack of motivation given to the villains, whose presence and actions are never well-defined, beyond being required in order for the plot to reach its (entirely predictable) conclusion. There are few if any surprises along the way. Even when the film tries to make you believe Mel has found sanctuary, anyone who has seen any wilderness survival films, will basically be waiting for that not to be the case.

By the time you filter out what’s unnecessary, and what doesn’t work, there’s probably not much more than 45 minutes of decent content to be found here. Rather than it being Mel vs. Wayland + Jared, it’s more a case of Mel vs. herself, or at least her own doubts and emotional baggage. The finale is decent, pitting our wounded athlete against the pair, and proves rather more satisfactory than most of what has been seen to this point. It’s an example of a film where the destination proves better than the journey to get there. Depending on your view, this may or may not be a suitable parallel to hiking the Appalachian Trail…

Dir: Philip S. Plowden
Star: Celeste M Cooper, Sean Patrick Leonard, Michael B. Woods, Sarah Charipar

Russia Girl by Kenneth Rosenberg

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

Natalia Nicolaeva in a 19-year-old, living with her parents on a farm in Transnistria, which I imagine most people would be hard-pushed to find on a map. Per Wikipedia, “it is a breakaway de facto state in a narrow strip of land between the river Dniester and the Ukrainian border that is internationally recognized as part of Moldova.” Now you know. She lets her friend, Sonia, convince her into taking up a job offer overseas which – probably inevitably – turns out to be the gateway to them becoming the victims of sex traffickers, imprisoned in a Turkish brothel. Natalia manages to escape, though pays a heavy price, and the man in charge of the gang, Goran Zigic, has not forgotten her either.

When his revenge reaches back across the continent to Transnistria, Natalia has to defend her family. Fortunately, she has an ally in Gregor Multinovic, a shady individual who has taken up residence locally, and about whom any number of whispered rumours circulate. He knows of Zigic, and helps prepare Natalia for what she needs to do, as she takes the fight to her enemy. This is likely a necessary angle, in order to establish an ordinary farm girl as a plausible opponent to the Serbian mafia, and I felt Rosenberg handled this very well, without letting Gregor take over for his heroine. It does still require a bit of suspension of disbelief in some elements, e.g. Zigic not bother to hide or beef up security at his home after Natalia’s first attempt. But it’s no more of a problem than you’ll find in many films.

It does take quite a while to get to that point. The first third is concerned with her initial capture, abuse and eventual escape. It all seems almost scarily plausible; by and large, it likely reflects the sad fate of many Eastern European women every year. The middle portion covers the return to her village, training under her mentor (though this is largely skipped), and subsequent return to Istanbul. Again, however, considering this is intended to be an origin story, that’s fine, and the eventual payoff is solid and acceptable. While the first in a series, it wraps up neatly without a cliffhanger or loose ends, which is always nice.

In terms of its setting, I was reminded a little of how Killing Eve‘s Villanelle came to be, though it’s clear that Natalia does not have anything like the same psychopathic streak. There is something of the same sense of a butterfly emerging from a caterpillar, in Natalia’s transformation through the hand of fate, from someone whose life is the epitome of peace and quiet. By the time we reach the end, it’s clear that has gone forever, and it’s that sweeping character arc, along which the reader travels with her, that is perhaps this book’s most outstanding feature.

Author: Kenneth Rosenberg
Publisher: Amazon Digital Services, available through Amazon, both as a paperback and an e-book
Book 1 of 3 in the Natalia Nicolaeva Thriller series

The Russian Bride

★★★
“Gothic Grand Guignol”

For the first, perhaps, three-quarters, this feels almost more like a Lifetime Original Movie. Then, at the end… Hoo-boy. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves, shall we? It begins with Nina (Orlan), seeking to escape a fraught life in Russia, for her and her young daughter, Dasha (Pimenova). Through an online dating service, she meets Karl Frederick (Bernsen), and they eventually move to America to be with him. While he’s an older gentleman, initially they seem to have struck it lucky, for he’s a rich, retired surgeon, who owns a massive estate in the country. In fact, you could say it seems almost too good to be true…

Which, of course, it is, despite the rapid marriage which follows. Even if you’re not aware of Bernsen’s long, distinguished career of playing psychos of various flavours (going back at least to The Dentist in 1996), the warning signs quickly pile up. The antagonistic housekeeper. Karl’s coke habit. The forbidden wing of the house. Apparently spooky occurrences. The random attack dog. A precarious, highly-pointy chandelier hanging in the hallway. The previous wife and child Karl “forgot” to mention. Though these all pale in comparison to the sight of Bernsen’s buttocks, and are before we get to his attempt outright to dispose of Nina in a riding accident. It’s clear he is rather more interested in Dasha than her mother. The only questions remaining are, to what purpose, and what is Nina going to do about it, to protect her daughter and herself.

The latter question is of particular relevance here, and is best answered by the picture on the right, depicting Nina in a blood-drenched wedding gown. To call the final act of this berserk would be an understatement. Shotgun blasts to the head and hands. Multiple hammers to the head. And, of course, the much anticipated attack of the highly-pointy chandelier. It’s as if the Lifetime channel production was hijacked by Rob Zombie and Eli Roth for the final week. And possible the maddest element of all? It’s triggered after the heroine falls face-first into Karl’s stash of Colombian marching powder, in echoes of the peyote-driven rampage we enjoyed in Revenge.

Ojeda is no stranger to this site, having previously given us Savaged. If you’ve seen it, then the latter part of the film makes considerably more sense – if anything, it’s the earlier going which is more out of character to that. However, it’s also the biggest weakness; as detailed above, the script is seriously guilty of overloading the film with Ominous Goings-On [capitals used deliberately], to the point any half-responsible mother would be “Peace, out”, and taking her child on the first plane back to Russia. There are times when less is more, and the first three-quarters of the film demonstrate this. However, there are also times when more is more. And, boy, the last quarter are an example of that, just as much.

Dir: Michael S. Ojeda
Star: Oksana Orlan, Corbin Bernsen, Kristina Pimenova, Lisa Goodman

Raya and the Last Dragon

★★
“Pretty, but pretty problematic.”

It had been close to five years since I saw my last Disney animated feature (Finding Dory, should you be interested). But the trailer for Raya got me intrigued. This seemed a genuinely kick-ass heroine, something absent from their output since Brave. Sadly, while I have to say the action is impressive and it looks good, these elements aren’t enough to overcome weaknesses, most obviously in the story department. It felt very much like it was written by a committee that had been handed a set of required talking points. And, lo, the end credits reveal the story was by eight different people, with four directors. I’m just glad I did not pay the House of Mouse’s $29.99 fee, or my disappointment would probably turn into annoyance. 

It’s set in the fictional country of Kumandra, a world inspired by various Southeast Asian cultures. [This hasn’t stopped Disney from being the target of PC critics, e.g. for casting voice actors outside that region… yeah, as inhabitants of a fictional country. When you start feeding  the woke monster, never expect its appetite to be satisfied] Aided by dragons, Kumandra had lived in peace until attacked by the Drune, evil spirits that turn their victims to stone. They are eventually defeated, but at the cost of the dragons, and the land fractures into five separate countries. 500 years later, the bickering territories fight for control of the orb containing the dragons’ magic. It’s broken in the struggle and the Drune return. It’s up to orb guardian, Raya (Tran) to reassemble the pieces, with the help of final surviving dragon, Sisu (Awkwafina).

A straightforward quest would have been perfectly fine, the heroine facing an escalating series of exciting challenges as she retrieves each fragment. But the film instead dumps so much extra on top, that this actual core becomes almost irrelevant. In many cases, recovering a fragment is super easy, barely an inconvenience, because the film has to hurry back to all the other things on its to-do list. For example, it’s considerably more interested in promoting a “one world” ethos, in which the countries must be made to unite. There’s no room here for alternative opinions, such as the possibility that, after five centuries of independence, they have their own cultural identities and might not necessarily be best served by forced amalgamation, at the point of a dragon. 

It also has to handle too many supporting characters. Things are fine early on, when it’s just Raya and Sisu. They have a relationship that’s fun to watch, even if it’s derivative of the Mulan/Mushu one. But the film throws in sidekick after sidekick. Boun, their 10-year-old boat captain (guess Disney has no issues with child labour…). Little Noi and her gang of monkeys. Tong, a Warrior from the Spine land. It’s all too much. On the other hand, there’s no real antagonist. Disney has had some great villains in the past, from Cruella de Vil to Scar. But here the Drune don’t work at all, being nothing more than smokelike entities. You might as well try to make COVID-19 your bad guy.

Some may argue a case for Namaari (Chan), a princess from the Fang tribe, whose deceit of Raya leads to the shattering of the orb. However, it seemed painfully obvious. almost from the get-go, that there was eventually going to be a face turn in her future. That became particularly clear after she started questioning her mother (Sandra Oh). However, I think it was fairly apparent, simply by her character design. From the haircut to her clothes, Namaari  could not have been more LGBTQIA+ friendly if they’d given her Birkenstocks and a box-set of The L Word. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, but Woke Disney is never going to have a genuine villain who looks so utterly gay.

Positives? As mentioned, there’s a rich visual style, and the animation is incredibly fluid. The action scenes are particularly well-done, not least the battles between Namaari and Raya. Animated fights often lack impact; that certainly isn’t the case here. In particular, the artists take advantage of the ability to make things quicker than humans could possibly be, without it ever seeming like the film has been sped-up. Some of the jokes work well, with Awkwafina’s comic timing particularly good. There were moments when Sisu reminded me of Dory, in her scatterbrained nature, and there are few higher compliments I can offer than that.

Yet the impact diminished the longer it went on, with every moral lecture and additional character thrown into the mix. The ending is clearly intended to be some kind of stirring emotional climax, yet left me entirely cold, perhaps because there’s no real threat. We’re told at the start that when the Drune were defeated, the people they petrified return to life. So even seeing Raya turn to stone seems, again, barely a temporary inconvenience. Still, at least there were no crappy songs until the end credits. I guess that’s something for which I should be grateful.

Dir: Don Hall, Carlos López Estrada, Paul Briggs, John Ripa 
Star (voice): Kelly Marie Tran, Awkwafina, Gemma Chan, Izaac Wang

Ride Like a Girl

★★½
“Trots, when it should gallop”

This opens and closes with footage and photographs of the real Michelle Payne, who is the subject of the film. Part of me wonders if that documentary approach might have proved a more successful one, rather than the parade of sports drama cliches we get here. Admittedly, quite a lot of them are based in fact. Payne was the first woman to ride to victory in the Melbourne Cup – that’s Australia’s premier horse-race, roughly equivalent in prestige to the Kentucky Derby or Grand National in the US or UK respectively. This alone, is quite an achievement. But she did so as one of ten brothers and sisters, who largely had to bring themselves up after their mother died when Michelle was only six months old. Her father was a horse trainer, and no fewer than eight of his offspring became jockeys, including Michelle of course.

In this version, Palmer plays the heroine, with Neill the ever-tolerant father attempting to steer her career. It’s not easy, with Michelle having to deal with a racing establishment that still doubts women can be as good jockeys as men, before eventually convincing owner Darren Weir (Stapleton) to give her a chance. She also has to come back from an fall that left her with a fractured skull and bruised brain. Then, she almost lost the opportunity to ride her horse, Prince of Penzance, in the big race after being suspended for racing tactics perceived as dangerous, fairly or not. In other words: basically checking off all the obvious impediments, and the film adds little or nothing of note to them, though some of the racing footage is effective enough. [The film, probably wisely, glosses over post-Cup events. Prince of Penzance went lame and had to retire; Weir was charged with cruelty to animals; and Payne got another suspension for amphetamine abuse. Oops]

It works better when it’s remaining grounded, in a way only Australians can be. Neill does a good job of that as the long-suffering father, and it’s a shame he all but vanishes from the second half of proceedings. It does offer amusing moments like watching a posse of nuns (or whatever the collective term is for them!), marching into a bookmakers on Melbourne Cup Day to bet on Payne and her pony. Much credit is also due to the film-makers for letting Payne’s real-life brother, Stevie, who has Down’s Syndrome, play himself in the movie. But it does suffer from what is likely an inevitable problem given the source material: we know how it’s going to end, and how it’s going to get there as well. Given this, taking a few more risks with the approach or the portrayals of the characters might have been warranted. Instead, Griffiths seems intent on taking the safest route she can find between plot-points which are largely obvious. The results are, as you’d expect, little more than feel-good fodder.

Dir: Rachel Griffiths
Star: Teresa Palmer, Sam Neill, Sullivan Stapleton, Stevie Payne

Run Hide Fight

★★★
“School’s out… forever

My rule of thumb here is, I generally don’t get into politics, beyond what a film itself does. By which I mean, if a movie consciously injects a political theme or agenda, then that’s fair game. But otherwise, I try to review a movie as a movie, rather than seeing it through the lens of any political belief. However, in this case, I can’t ignore the elephant in the room, with Run Hide Fight having acquired an explicitly political subtext, over and about its content, through distribution by right-wing website, The Daily Wire. Yet, just as The Hunt was not calling for the murder of Trump supporters some suggested, neither is this the relentless pro-gun propaganda, you’d think from a few of the more vitriolic reviews. Once again, reality is more moderate than online opinions would have you believe. Who knew?

Director Rankin said (in an interview that’s thoughtful, and definitely worth the read), he wanted the film “to be so that two friends on opposite sides of the political spectrum could go watch this and both feel like it honored them, and they could go out for coffee or a beer, and talk about it.” I’d say he managed to do so, though I’m not certain such equivocation is the best approach, especially when it comes to such a controversial topis as school shootings. I might have had more respect if the film had taken a stance and gone for it. Though that would have taken more bravery – or stupidity! – given some of the reactions to what is a mild, even-handed take. It doesn’t really get more controversial than daring to suggest that sometimes, to stop a bad guy with a gun you need a good guy teenage girl with a gun.

From a moral point of view, my sole qualm was probably that too much time was spent on the chief perpetrator. It plays down the same line as previous entries in the school shooter genre – spending too much time on the killers rather than their victims, which almost regardless of execution, exacerbates the problem. This is something the script does address towards the end, when the heroine says to the ring-leader, “Isn’t it ironic, that after all your goddamn hard work, people aren’t gonna remember you? They are gonna remember me.” This might ring truer, if I wasn’t fairly sure he gets more lines than she does. I don’t care about your motivation. You’re insane. Now, move on.

Otherwise, it is basically Die Hard in a school, and as such, is no more worthy of complaint than any of the many other Die Hard knock-offs we’ve seen. Certainly, saying that educational facilities should be sacrosanct, inviolate and not used as the location for this kind of thing makes no logical sense. To quote Rankin, “There’s an easy answer to, ‘How could you?’ which is also, ‘How could you not?’ This is a major problem in America, so why not make a movie about it?” I would argue it’s in reality perceived as a major problem, largely due to the media hysteria around it. For in 2019, a grand total of just eight people were killed across the whole country on school grounds or during school-sponsored events. [Or, as Chicago calls it, “a quiet weekend.”] For context: lawnmowers kill more than ten times that number annually.

Anyway, let’s move on and discuss the movie, as a movie – because that’s what matters.

It’s almost the last day of the year, Jennifer Hull (May) is in her school cafeteria bathroom, when Tristan Voy (Brown) and his cohort of Columbine Mafia wannabes crash a van in through the window and take the students hostage. The authorities are slow to react, in part due to diversionary tactics, in part due to bureaucracy and in part… because it’s necessary to the plot, allowing Jennifer to scurry into the air-ducts and discover what being a TV dinner feels like. Having escaped the initial onslaught, her first instinct is to flee the scene, but fortunately for the movie, she decides to go back into the building, alert others to the reality of the situation and, eventually, face down the perpetrators.

You can largely pencil in the obvious plot points as they unfold, and the script offers very little in the way of surprises. Probably the biggest is that, as a Die Hard copy, it’s very restrained, with Jennifer responsible for the demise of only two (2) of the attackers. To put it into oughties video-game terms, it’s considerably more Metal Gear Solid than Goldeneye, with stealth being the order of the day, rather than rushing in with all guns blazing. It helps her that the attackers are streaming their act live on the Internet, which allows her to keep an eye on where they are. There are also some nice  moments where she make use of the school environment to assist her; I’d like to have seen more of that.

What the film does best is likely the set-up of Jennifer’s character. We first see her deer-hunting with her father (Jane), demonstrating a familiarity with and respect for firearms. It’s also established early that she’s still grieving after the loss of her mother, giving her some darkness. But generally, Jennifer is very much a normal girl, somewhat on the fringes of school life, but by no means an outsider. Mom’s ghost pops up now and again during events, a narrative conceit which I didn’t mind, yet can’t say I felt particularly enhanced things either. Still, she’s a heroine for whom I found it very easy to root.

It does feel like the script doesn’t quite know what to do with her after her first hand-to-hand fight, a messily close-combat affair. She turns her hand to a variety of different things, such as alerting other classes to the fact that leaving the premises is the best option, which feels like a diversion from the main plot. Eventually, of course, Tristan realizes there’s a fly in the ointment, and we get the face-off we’ve been expecting, which harks back to the early deer-hunting. It’s a good job too, as the penultimate climax had felt like a cop-out, with Jennifer teetering perilously close to damsel in distress mode. Fortunately, the real finale proved a good deal more satisfactory.

Much as with the political posturing, the film’s quality lies in the middle. It’s neither a new classic, nor the appalling piece of hackwork – both opinions I’ve seen put forward. It is considerably tamer than I expected, certainly not the outrage to common decency some have suggested (not that I’d have necessarily minded!). It is entirely competent and does a reasonable, rather than exceptional, job both as entertainment and in provoking thought. Not worth the hype, to be sure – yet certainly not worth the vitriol either.

Dir: Kyle Rankin
Star: Isabel May, Eli Brown, Thomas Jane, Thomas Jane

Rearview

★★
“With hindsight, I shouldn’t have bothered.”

I must confess, I was perversely intrigued when I read a review on the IMDb, apparently from one of the directors, disowning this film: “Terrible, and despite it having my name on it, I had no say in the final cut.” While it is true to say that the synopsis – “Based on true events, a girl fights for her life on the Road – Tears Of Souls – chased by a gang of slave traffickers” – is almost entirely inaccurate, it’s not that dreadful. Oh, it’s… not good, to be sure. But I’ve seen worse (hello, Agent Jade Black): it’s not annoyingly dreadful, thanks mostly to a decent central performance by Thomas.

She plays Nicky, who is driving through the English countryside when her car stalls out, beginning an escalating series of misadventures. For this particular area is apparently ground zero for a series of mysterious disappearances of women, who subsequently turn up dead in what the police call suicide. Of course, that’s far from the case, with what appears to be a loose-knit collaboration between a pair of psychos (Sives and Simpson), predating the highways and byways out of a truck-stop, and certain elements of the authorities. Quite where the “slave traffickers” mentioned by the synopsis come in, escapes me entirely. To be honest, on reading that bit, I was expecting this to unfold in the middle East, rather than middle England.

Nicky is likeable enough and does, at least, appear slightly smarter than the average victim in these things. Or, at least, is not required to behave with the idiocy which is par for the course. However, the downside is that the sensible thing – staying locked in her car – is far from thrilling cinema. There is way too much sitting by the side of the road for this to work, even if you take into account the whole “being menaced by a pair of psychos” thing. Eventually, even they get bored with standing around, passing comment, and smash the side window, forcing Nicky out of her relatively safe-space and into the surrounding woods. From where there’s much running around, until we eventually circle back to the opening, in which she covers herself in fuel at an all-night petrol station, and threatens to set herself on fire after the cashier refuses to let her in.

There is only one scene which genuinely sticks in my mind, which sees Nicky strangle one of the people after her. It’s notable largely for the length, being an apparently endless exercise with the victim thrashing around in increasing desperation, trying to escape. The scene is nasty, brutal and tough to watch, which is exactly the way violence like this should be depicted. It also stands in sharp contrast to the pedestrian direction in the rest of the film, which contains little that is memorable or interesting. Maybe we Brits are just too gosh darned polite to do this kind of thing well?

Dir: Avril E. Russell, Orson Nava
Star: Antonia Thomas, Jamie Sives, Jay Simpson. James Floyd

Rogue

★★★
“Because females are the true killers.”

Megan Fox may not exactly be the first name which comes to mind when you think “battle-hardened mercenary leader.” But if you can get past your preconceptions, she’s definitely not the worst thing about this. We’ll get to what is, a little later. She plays Samantha O’Hara, leader of a group or mercs who have been hired by the governor of an African province to rescue his daughter from the Muslim group who kidnapped her. The mission initially goes well, but problems arise. First, the daughter isn’t the only woman kidnapped, forcing Sam to take along multiple civilians. Then, their evac chopper is shot down. Finally, the abandoned house in which they hole up while awaiting extraction turns out to be home to some large, toothy predators of the feline variety, leading to the quote above. Between fending off them and the pursuing kidnappers, Sam and her crew have their work cut out to survive the night until rescue arrives.

I was reminded of the series Strike Back in a number of ways, and it’s no coincidence. Director Bassett worked on the show and Winchester was one of the stars. But there’s also a similarly frantic pace and exotic location, as well as a love of giant fireballs. I’m down with all of those, even if the characterizations here are definitely on the shallow side; the film clearly feels this would be time wasted, which could be better spent on those giant fireballs. Fox is fine, though I’d say definitely should have been made to look less glamorous. There’s barely a shot here, where she doesn’t look as if she wandered onto the African veldt, right off a fashion runway: perfect hair and make-up, with not evern a smudge of dirt on those cheek-bones. However, she hurls herself about with some abandon, and I can’t fault her willingness to go outside the comfort zone of her usual roles.

No, a far bigger problem here is the CGI used for the lions, which is flat-out terrible. I don’t know what the hell happened, but any time it’s properly seen, the flaws are glaringly obvious, and severely detract from proceedings. Which is a shame, because they’re used quite well. We get an attack seen through night-vision goggles that is genuinely chilling, and there’s also the best “out of nowhere” moment since Samuel L. Jackson got sharked in Deep Blue Sea. I suggest looking at the big cats out of the corner of the eye, and they might pass muster. The film ends with an explicit pro-conservation message from the director, which seems a bit odd, given they’ve spent the previous hour and three-quarters showing us what terrifying beasts lions are. But it’s apparently okay, because they had reasons. I don’t see many people sticking around for the morality show: you’re here for Fox in khaki and the maulings. Providing you can get past the ropey CGI, this delivers adequately enough on both counts.

Dir: M.J. Bassett
Star: Megan Fox, Philip Winchester, Greg Kriek, Brandon Auret

Ravage

★★½
“Harper’s bizarre.”

Wildlife photographer Harper Sykes (Dexter-Jones) is out in the wilderness of the “Watchatoomy Valley” [fictitious, but apparently located somewhere in the Virginias], when she stumbles across a group of men brutally attacking a victim. She snaps a few pics before fleeing the scene, but her attempts to report the incident to the authorities backfire immediately, and she quickly finds herself at the mercy of their leader, the appropriately-named Ravener (Longstreet). He explains the victim was a scout for big business, whose predations would destroy the natural environment, and so had to be stopped. Now, Harper is next in line. However, she is not the innocent and helpless victim they think. Even when she has the chance to escape, Harper decides to stay in the valley, and take vengeance on Ravener and the rest of his clan.

It is an interesting idea. Frequently in the horror genre, the character arc is of the “final girl”, who only resorts to violence when finally pushed too far. That certainly isn’t the case here: indeed, Harper actually fires first, gunning down one of Ravener’s henchmen as soon as she steps from her truck. Yet there’s a reason the trope of the final girl exists, because it pulls the audience along with her. Here, Harper’s actions are unexpected enough they could well disengage much of the audience, coming as they do before we’ve established much sympathy for her. Another problem is her decision to stay and actively look for her revenge isn’t well-enough defined: I was left wondering for quite some time, why she didn’t leave. Some explanation of why she’s so skilled might have been nice: not much, just a quick reference to time in the military, or a survivalist Dad, would have been fine.

The structure is also a tad problematic, with the film being told in flashback, a heavily-bandaged Harper recounting her story to a disbelieving state trooper from her hospital bed. So, we know she will survive, and the early explanations also remove much other tension from subsequent proceedings. If you’ve seen more than, roughly, two of this kind of movie, you’ll also fail to be surprised that the kindly individual to whom the heroine turns for help, ends up being anything but. I could perhaps have done without the lengthy digression into medieval torture techniques and bovine anatomy. Though both do prove at least tangentially necessary to the plot, and the latter in particular, leads to a grisly payoff.

Dexter-Jones does a good job of selling her role, and Harper generally has no compunction about acting, e.g. blowing one of her target’s brains out at point-blank range. Yet, this is at odds with some of her other actions. She literally throws up after watching the initial savagery, and the sight of a dead body later makes her shriek like a little girl. It’s all maddeningly inconsistent, and left me rather annoyed, with too much the potential here wasted through sloppy execution.

Dir: Teddy Grennan
Star: Annabelle Dexter-Jones, Robert Longstreet, Michael Weaver, Bruce Dern
a.k.a. Swing Low

Riddle Story of Devil

★★★
“This class is a killer…”

Another example which illustrates the difference between Western and Japanese approaches to education. For here we have “Class Black”, a group containing a baker’s dozen of female pupils, eleven of whom have been tasked by a mysterious group to assassinate the twelfth, with the person who does it being given absolutely anything they want by the organizers. Yeah, it’s not quite Beverley Hills 90210, is it? Of course, nor is it quite that simple. One of the candidates, Tokaku Azuma (Suwa), is the daughter of a legendary and long-standing family of assassins, but has had enough of her enforced role. Inspired by her mother, she has decided to rebel, and so switches sides. Instead of targeting the intended victim, Haru Ichinose (Kanemoto), she vows to protect her from the other students.

Of course, it is a ridiculously contrived scenario, even given the rules which are laid down at an early “orientation”. The series (twelve x 25-minute eps, plus a bonus one) seems occasionally to be aware of this. It shows up in elements such as the class’s teacher (Sakurai), who is depicted as barely noticing three-quarters of his class has “transferred out” in about a week. But these are strictly assassins who act as necessary to the plot. For example, one attempt consists of strapping a bomb around Haru’s neck… but then giving Tokaku 24 hours to find the four-digit code necessary to disarm it. If I had the promise of whatever I wished, I’d not be as generous. I’m just sayin’…

Admittedly, when the truth is finally revealed over the final couple of episodes, it turns out things aren’t quite as they initially appeared. There are clearly far larger forces at play, pulling the strings from behind the scenes, which help explain some (though not all) of the machinations. I also like the slow reveal of information over the course of the series. We gradually learn about both Tokaku’s own background, and those of her ‘competitors’, which range from professionals to your average or garden psycho killers. Their styles of attack are equally varied: as well as the explosive devices mentioned above, there’s poison and even scissors attempted as methods of dispatch.

I was, frankly, a bit uncomfortable with the depictions of these fifteen-year-old girls. While there’s no actual nudity, the makers seem intent on coming as close as possible. That’s especially true of the bonus episode, in which the class is stranded on a desert island for a Battle Royale-style (though non-lethal) contest. Swimsuits-a-go-go. I’m on happier ground with the action – there’s some of that in just about every episode after the first – and the lack of romance (in part no doubt related to the lack of male characters) is also a plus. In the end, it’s a light enough entry to merit viewing, though I’m less sure about repeat value. It’s perhaps telling that I only finished watching it yesterday, and I already had to look up the heroine’s name.

Dir: Keizō Kusakawa
Star (voice): Ayaka Suwa, Hisako Kanemoto, Yoshino Nanjō, Takahiro Sakurai