Tag: r

Real Dangerous Fun, by K. W. Jeter

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

With this read of the fourth (in the Lincoln Square Books numbering) installment of the author’s Kim Oh series, I’ve now read all of the volumes that are currently available in paper format. All of the previous ones have earned high ratings from me, despite some flaws that can mostly be summarized as continuity or editing issues; it’s fair to say that this is one of my favorite action-adventure series, and I’m definitely a fan of the heroine. This particular book, however, proved to be the weakest of the series so far, and really only mustered two and a half stars in my estimation. The main drawbacks here only become really evident on reflection after the read, or at the very end, so all through the read itself I did enjoy the experience.

Korean-American (though, as we learned in the previous book, she and her brother are only half Korean in their ancestry) protagonist and first-person narrator Kim, as series fans will already know, is the guardian and caretaker of her wheelchair-bound younger sibling Donnie. Not able to pay for their food and rent as a bookkeeper (she’s good at it, but not very credentialed) the series opener showed how, by a believable story arc, she opted for a career change as a hired gun. She’s occasionally a paid assassin (though, as she says, only of “the kind of creeps on which there was a general consensus that if they stopped breathing, it’d pretty much be an improvement to the world;” she does have ethical “standards” for herself, and Jeter doesn’t directly depict that side of her work), but mostly as a bodyguard or “security” for employers whose business interests may attract violent hostiles. They tend to be shady types (whom she doesn’t much like or respect), and job security isn’t very dependable.

When our story opens, some two months have passed since the previous book. Kim’s now about 20, and Donnie around 14 (the ages aren’t explicitly stated, but inferred from time progressions from book to book). Since her former boss didn’t survive the previous adventure (and had fired her anyway), she’s been between jobs since then, and her savings are dwindling. Now, however, an opportunity knocks. A wealthy but sleazy tycoon wants to hire her to accompany his college-student daughter to fictional Meridien (supposedly the smallest country in South America) for spring break. This won’t (so he says) be a very taxing job; Lynndie Heathman doesn’t so much need a bodyguard as a kind of glorified nanny to keep her out of serious trouble. So, Kim’s soon flying to Meridien –with Donnie in tow, albeit against her druthers.

She’s reluctant to bring him anywhere near the sybaritic conditions that await them; but although he’s able to look after himself for awhile if he needs to (and has, at times), as he pointed out, Child Protective Services knows she’s landed this job and won’t look kindly on him being left to his own devices for this long. (And she doesn’t plan on letting him participate in any drunken orgies!) Knowing the kind of intense searches today’s airplane travelers are subjected to, she’s opted not to bring along a gun. But, hey, it’s not as if any danger is likely to present itself on this gig, right? (I was reminded of the Robert Burns poem about “best laid plans….”) On the flight, Donnie strikes up an acquaintance with Mavis, a full-scholarship anthropology student who’s headed for Meridien on her department’s nickel, not to party but to do research, and who’s (like him) more than a little tech-savvy.

We’ll see more of her (long story!). Jeter doesn’t explicitly establish her age, either (and that’s going to be an important detail, in my estimation!) We only know that she’s not old enough to drink, “Even for here;” if the drinking age there is 18, I’d guess she’s 17. (Kim noted that she seemed younger than the rest of the college crowd, and refers to her once as underage.) Some teens enroll in college early (and dual enrollment programs for high school juniors and seniors exist at a number of colleges); but this should have been explained, and I can’t think that she could be any younger than 17.

We’re not surprised when this expedition goes south (in more ways than the geographically obvious one!) early on. This tale is an excursion into the darker recesses of what human nature is capable of, though there’s light in the darkness. With a time span of just a few days, the plotting is taut and the pace mostly quick (it slows a bit in the middle, only because it has to). As always, Jeter handles action scenes well, and the setting is evoked effectively. Kim’s her usual self, and for series fans her wry, snarky narrative voice (with a chip on the shoulder as far as wealthy, entitled snobs are concerned, but given her circumstances, it’s hard to blame her) comes across much like her sitting down with you as an old friend she trusts completely, kicking back over a cup of tea and recounting her experience.

And along the way, there are the revealing moments that show her inner dissatisfaction with aspects of her present life, and her yearning for more normality and human connection; she’s a three-dimensional person who comes across as just as human as you or I, and that’s no mean literary achievement. A couple of plot elements show significant authorial research (smoothly integrated); and Donnie and Mavis’ video technology know-how will come in handy. There’s no explicit sex; and while there’s some h- and d- words and religious profanity, which I didn’t like, there’s no obscenity and the language is in the bounds of realism with a degree of tasteful restraint. You can expect some violent deaths, and you’ll encounter one grisly image in particular that even had Kim “a little nauseated;” but the grisliness isn’t any worse than it has to be.

What pulled my rating for this installment down wasn’t the kind of continuity and editorial issues some earlier ones had; those weren’t present here. But there were more serious basic logical issues. In the first place, the main villains here acted in a way that was (from their standpoint) highly unnecessary and unwise, against their own interests, and that’s just papered over in the apparent hope that we won’t notice. But that creates a logical hole you could drive a fleet of trucks through. Secondly, Kim’s plan at the end completely depends on somebody else acting in a certain way in two respects, one of which was likely enough but not guaranteed, and the other of which was IMO actually quite unlikely. Things fell into place here because she had the author pulling strings on her behalf, but in real life that factor wouldn’t be present.

Kim also came across as uncharacteristically naive in accepting the supposed lack of danger in this job so uncritically; and later she made one error of judgment that immediately set off even my warning bells. (Her late mentor Cole would have chewed her out royally!) Finally, Jeter introduces one or two intriguing mystery elements in the first chapter –and soon drops them completely down the memory hole. :-( Another major negative (for me) appeared only in the final paragraphs. For that reason, it might be spoilerish to discuss it here, though it isn’t a spoiler for anything to do with the main plot. But despite these negatives, I’d still recommend the book to most fans of the series.

Author: K. W. Jeter
Publisher: Lincoln Square Books; available through Amazon, both for Kindle and as a printed book.
A version of this review previously appeared on Goodreads.

Real Dangerous Place, by K. W. Jeter

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

Note: My previous reviews of this series had incorrect information on the series numbering, and about the relationship of this printing to the first one. That first printing had seven volumes. If Lincoln Square Books reprints all of the series, their edition will have six, because they combined the original Real Dangerous Girl and  Real Dangerous Job (which form a single story arc) as Parts I and II of a single novel with the first title. However, they did NOT combine any of the later novels, which all have their original titles; the next two, including this one, were divided into Parts I and II to start with. I apologize to readers for the earlier misleading information; but a late correction is better than no correction!

Having read (and reviewed) the previous volumes in this action adventure series, all of which got high ratings from me, I was glad to follow along with this next installment. Most readers of this book will probably have read the earlier ones –and should have, since this series is one that absolutely needs to be read in order. (This review will contain some spoilers for the preceding book, though not for this one.) Likewise, most readers of this review will most likely have read my takes on the preceding volumes, so will already have a basic idea of Kim’s personality, family situation, and back history.) The main body of this story takes place on one day, mostly in a tense hostage situation, and Part I ends in a cliff-hanger in the very middle of that situation.

The most obvious difference between the previous installments and this one is that we’re no longer in our familiar upstate New York setting. Landing on her feet at the conclusion of her previous adventure, our rough-edged heroine had wangled herself a job as chief of security for her deceased boss’ erstwhile newly minted partner, Mr. Karsh (whose business practices unfortunately aren’t any more ethical or strictly legal than the late Mr. Falcon’s, though he also aspires to a veneer of legitimacy). In the interim between the two books, his far-flung business enterprises have taken him to L.A. for an extended stay, so he’s re-located Kim and Donnie (I’d say she’s now at least 18, if not 19, and Donnie’s 12-13) there along with him. When our story opens, Kim’s making better money than before; she and Donnie can afford a better apartment, and Karsh’s gotten him into a private school that caters to special-needs kids. She’s thinking that their situation is looking up; but with her luck, it can go south very quickly. And then things get really hairy, when she finds herself, in a Karsh-owned equipment truck, in the middle of a late afternoon traffic jam on an elevated L.A. freeway, in which Donnie’s school bus is also stuck –and shooting and explosions start to happen.

That brings us to another difference, or set of differences, from the previous books. Here, the unity of time and location is much tighter. Events are also, in a sense, more straightforward. True, Kim doesn’t have a clue why a gaggle of heavily armed thugs have set off vehicle explosions that block 50 or 60 cars between them, with no escape, and neither do we as readers; Jeter will disclose their leader’s plan and motivation only very gradually. But figuring out who the enemy is here isn’t going to be a problem; they’re toting their assault rifles quite openly. There are also a number of scenes and events here to which Kim isn’t privy at the time. Given that she’s our first-person narrator, that’s a challenge to pull off, but Jeter does it successfully. He’s already used the technique, in previous books, of her describing a scene the way she imagines it went. (But as Kim says, “The thing about my imagination, though –I’m not usually wrong about whatever I come up with. Kind of a gift, that way.” :-) )

Here, he just has to use it a great deal more. Finally, there’s not a lot of moral ambiguity or grey areas in this tale; anybody who’s not morally brain-dead can recognize that the perpetrators aren’t doing good things, and Kim doesn’t need to agonize over whether it’s right to try to mess up their plans and hopefully get Donnie to safety -and herself and maybe others as well, if she’s lucky. That’s pretty much a given. The real question is whether she can rescue anybody. (The cover art here is highly misleading; Kim never has a pistol in her hand in this book.) Her treasured .357 is in her shoulder bag in her boss’ car (long story), and the head thug quickly relieved her of the Ladysmith in her thigh holster. So she’s unarmed, and not blessed with a physique that gives her much advantage in hand-to-hand combat, nor martial arts skills. But she does have guts, smarts, and determination; and her colleague Elton (whom we met in the previous book), who’s with her in the truck, has the same qualities.

The action-adventure aspect of the story is more prominent here than in the previous books (though Kim herself gets to display her chops only towards the end –she’ll more than make up for that, however!), and is presented with a good deal of tension, suspense, and excitement, punctuated by explosions and mayhem. (Hollywood disdains to adapt indie or small-press books as films; that’s their loss in this case, because the narrative has a highly cinematic quality. It would be tailor-made for adaptation as an action film, and would probably be very popular at the box office.) Strong characterization is an asset, as always in this series; Donnie in particular comes into his own here (and we actually learn what his medical condition is; it’s esophageal atresia, and compounded in his case with complications from surgical infection, it’s life-threatening). And don’t sell him short in a crisis, either; yeah, his legs are useless, but his big sister isn’t the only sibling in that family who’s got fighting spirit…. Bad language is restrained (no obscenity, and not much religious profanity), and there’s no sexual content; Jeter’s prose is vivid, and the narrative is fast-paced.

Continuity/editing issues, as in the previous book, are the one significant flaw here. An important plot point results from a scuffle that supposedly took place earlier; but in the earlier part of the book that describes that encounter, there was clearly no scuffle at all. At one point, Kim refers to being aware of something she actually couldn’t have known until later. Most glaringly, a character who’s shot dead with a close-range pistol bullet between the eyes appears two pages later, walking, talking and menacing people. In fairness, I had to deduct a star for those issues, but they didn’t keep me from really liking the book. (All of them could be fixed with fairly slight editing.) For series fans, it’s a must-read; and I think most fans of clean action-adventure, especially those who appreciate a protagonist from the distaff side, would greatly like this series if they’d try it.

Author: K. W. Jeter
Publisher: Lincoln Square Books; available through Amazon, both for Kindle and as a printed book
A version of this review previously appeared on Goodreads.

Ride or Die

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★½
“Die, please.”

This is not to be confused with the rather higher profile i.e. it’s available on Netflix, Japanese film with the same title, made the same year, and covering a not dissimilar theme. Both are about a woman who is prepared to commit murder, in order to save their best friend from an abusive relationship. However, after the killing in question, the films take divergent paths. The Japflix version becomes a road-trip movie, with the killer and her friend going on the run. This, however, focuses heavily on the killer, whose already fragile mental state falls apart completely, after she discovers that things weren’t quite as she had been led to believe. It’s not her first time at the homicide rodeo either.

For that to work, it needs to have a convincing relationship at its core, and this fails miserably on that level. Ashley (Allen) may be willing to do anything for Mandy (Brooks), but we are never shown why this might be the case: just told it, and expected to accept this at face-value. It’s less credible than the BFFs in Jennifer’s Body, and that is a low bar indeed. It doesn’t help that Brooks is, to put it bluntly, one of the worst actresses I’ve seen given a major role in a movie for a very long time. Yet she’s not ever the worst in this movie: that goes to the “grandmother” who recites her lines from off-screen. My granny would have delivered them with greater conviction, and she has been dead for approaching forty years.

Allen is, at least relatively, watchable, with a smokey voice which makes her resemble a young version of Yancy Butler. The film did manage to hold my attention for about 20 minutes. This began with Ash shooting the abusive boyfriend (Rehman) in the face, and having to deal with an unexpected witness (Blundon), and runs through the revelation that upends Ashley’s worldview. However, the movie singularly fails to do anything significant with it, and all the hallucinatory nonsense thereafter, with Ash being visited by her victims, was completely unable to re-ignite my interest. There is zero development, and too many strands are painstakingly set up, only to go nowhere, e.g. the nosy waitress, another performance which it would be kind to call thoroughly wretched.

The complete lack of any official interest in the killing spree is understandable, the budget clearly not stretching to any forces in authority. Yet this does not excuse the second half degenerating into dull scenes of Ashley driving around, mindless chit-chat or PG-rated lesbian canoodling with more people who can’t emote their way out of a moist paper-bag. In (marginal) defense, they are not helped by a number of scenes apparently being re-dubbed in post, or a musical score that doesn’t so much complement the on-screen action, as compete vigorously with it for attention. It’s a race to the bottom there, and neither aspect gets out of here alive.

Dir: Aly Hardt
Star: Vanessa Allen, Hannah Brooks, Celeste Blandon, Raavian Rehman

The Reef: Stalked

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★★★
“Canoe’s company”

This is a sequel to Traucki’s 2010 film, The Reef, whose synopsis reads: “A sailing trip becomes a disaster for a group of friends when the boat sinks and a white shark hunts the helpless passengers.” I haven’t seen it, yet based on that, I’m not sure I need to. Replace “sailing” with “kayaking”, and you’re more or less here. Perhaps lob in a bit borrowed from The Descent, the trip in this case being partly a memorial for a lost friend. Here, it’s to honour a woman who was drowned by her abusive husband. Her sisters, Nic (Liane) and Annie (Archer), head off with Jodie (Truong) and Lisa (Lister). It’s not long before they find themselves hunted by a shark, and needing to cross open water in order to get help for an injured young girl, who was also attacked.

I’m not joking when I say the shark here appears to be a metaphor for toxic masculinity, as seen in the sisters’ murderous brother-in-law. He is literally the only man in the entire film. Fortunately, once they hit the water, it’s easy to forget the rather heavy-handed messaging which we get at the beginning. However, it does mean you know the death-toll here will be limited, because otherwise the patriarchy will have won. It’s also definitely the shark film with the most F-bombs I’ve ever seen, because Australia. I will say, given the scenario, the heroines exhibit a real lack of urgency in their kayaking. I mean, I would be flailing away like an aquatic helicopter in their situation, rather than the languid paddling they tend to demonstrate.

On the other hand, the makers do an excellent job of combining footage of real sharks with practical effects and CGI, into a cohesive whole. The results are generally effective, and occasionally impressive. The relationship between the women is nicely portrayed; they are not saints, and bicker over the best way to address the situation. Nic seems to be suffering an odd kind of PTSD, after the trauma of discovering her sister’s body in the bath. This translates into her suffering from drowning flashbacks somehow. While I dunno quite how that works, maybe a kayaking holiday isn’t the best choice of vacation?

As ever though, movies like this really are not about logical analysis, because a fear of being eaten alive by sharks isn’t logical either. [They cause maybe 10 deaths a year worldwide, compared to 2,000 killed after being struck by lightning, something we literally use as a metaphor for extremely rare events] They need to connect with the audience on a more emotional, almost a primeval level, and this did it for me on enough occasions to justify its existence. I’m not convinced about the need to try and inject social commentary into shark movies: there are plenty of other horror sub-genres better suited to it. However, it’s still possible to set that aside and appreciate the simple, oceanic pleasures this has to offer.

A version of this review previously appeared on Film Blitz.

Reign of Chaos

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★
“Future schlock.”

There are spells where I find myself going through a stream of mediocre movies, wondering when I’ll see something genuinely good. Then, I stumble into the likes of this, which leaves me yearning for the heady delights of mediocrity. It was in trouble right from the start, with five minutes of opening voice-over that did nothing but leave me confused. Then again, if your story requires five minutes of opening voice-over in the first place, you should probably rethink your storytelling techniques. The same could be said for a post-apocalyptic scenario in which food is in short supply, yet black pleather cat-suits are apparently easily available, in a range of sizes to fit all needs.

A plague has swept the land, turning the bulk of the population into flesh-eating “Joiners”. That is not the worst of it. For it turns out, Chaos is harvesting souls to usher in an unending period of unimaginable torment. Perhaps one where pleather cat-suits might be slightly difficult to come by. Humanity’s sole hope is the three descendants of the Greek goddess Nike: Nicole (Finch), Lindsay (Wood), and Alina (Di Tuccio). They are brought together under the tutelage of Rhodri (Cosgrove), trained in the arts of battle and sent off to face Chaos in their pleather cat-suits. He turns out to be a pasty-faced baldie, like Voldemort with a nose, though the final battle is so underwhelming you may wonder if the final reel went missing.

Let me be clear: there is hardly an element of this which reaches even the level of semi-competent. The most obvious flaw is a world, supposedly collapsed into anarchy and… dare I say it, Chaos, which looks utterly indistinguishable from our current one. Lawns are well-maintained, there is not a broken window is to be seen, and the neighbourhood even has a well-stocked boxing gym open. It’s truly the least convincing apocalypse ever. Into this fit our trio of heroines, who are, similarly, the least convincing saviours of the world ever. Their combat skills are negligible, and I have to assume they were cast solely for their ability to wear a pleather cat-suit (something I allow they do better than I could). Admittedly, their performances are not exactly helped by having to deliver laughable lines, such as, “Goddess power, bitch!”

The above is written as someone who has watched and, indeed, made his fair share of poverty-row cinema. The number one rule of this is: just because you can write it on the page, does not mean you can film it. You need to be permanently aware of the limitations which your lack of resources impose, and operate within them. The makers here seem to have no such idea, writing their way into a corner which a hundred times their budget would have struggled to escape. Ambition is laudable. This instead plays like a child in a cardboard box making “Vroom! Vroom!” sounds, and does not a Ferrari make.

Dir: Rebecca Matthews
Star: Rebecca Finch, Rita Di Tuccio, Georgia Wood, Peter Cosgrove

Real Dangerous People, by K. W. Jeter

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

This gritty and action-packed series was originally marketed in seven volumes. The new edition condenses that to four, by combining the first six into three and designating each component in the pair as either Part 1 or Part 2, the original title of each Part 1 serving as the new book title for both. So this book counts as two series installments. That’s a felicitous arrangement, because installments 1-2 (now paired as Real Dangerous Girl) and 3-4 here both fit together nicely as two self-contained two-part story arcs, each featuring protagonist/narrator Kim but centering on a different challenge each time, that starts in Part 1 and finds its resolution in Part 2. But the books should be read in order; here, references are made to persons and events from the prior installments, and in order to fully understand who Kim and her wheelchair-bound kid brother Donnie are, their situation, and the development of her character, you really need to have read the preceding part of the canon. Warning: this review will contain “spoilers” for the previous book(s).

As I’d deduced and mentioned in my review of installment 1 (I read and wrote about the first two as separate books: what is now Real Dangerous Girl Part 1 and Part 2), the setting is an unnamed city in western New York state. It’s not named here either; but references to docks and ocean-going commerce point to Rochester, which is on Lake Ontario and can access the Atlantic via the St. Lawrence River. Several months have passed since the end of the previous book; it’s now winter. One reference suggests that Kim’s still 17; but she has to be getting pretty close to 18. (A credibility problem with the series is that it’s hard to fit all of her backstory into 17 years.) We’re not actually brought up to speed on the intervening events until Chapter 3, and Kim’s wry description of her new line of work as “killing people” might give the idea that she’s been working as an assassin. She hasn’t –but she has opted to make her living with her .357 rather than her calculator; and as she recognizes, the possibility of lethal violence is always present, especially given the sort of people who’ll employ her.

At Cole’s funeral, a meeting with Curt, an old acquaintance of his that he’d recommended her to, led to a three-month gig in “security” for one Mr. Falcone, another mobster like her former employer, who now prefers to be called Mr. Falcon since he’s looking to shed his Mafia image; also like the late Mr. McIntyre, he’s moving to position himself as more plausibly “legitimate.” (So “security” work for him involves dealing with his double-crossing employees, and attacks by thugs working for his equally shady rivals.) Near the beginning of this book, she’s invited to join his personal bodyguard team, where a sudden vacancy has opened up. But the way it opened up isn’t encouraging…. Since there are a couple of more books in the series, we know that our girl’s going to make it home at the end of the day. But she doesn’t have any such assurance, and the chances of this job ending with a tag on her toe look pretty real. She needs the money, though, since failing to provide for Donnie isn’t an option she’ll accept; and she’s about to face another unexpected existential threat to her little family unit, from a totally different quarter.

As noted above, Kim’s character is developing, and not always in ways that please her. (In fact, some developments concern and scare her.) The criminal underworld she originally entered unwittingly when she landed a job with McIntyre’s now defunct organization has become pretty much her default environment. That’s partly because no legitimate business will hire her as an accountant with no formal credentialling, even if she’s good at it, but also because, though she doesn’t like to admit it to herself, at one level she thrives on the excitement, empowerment and adrenaline rush of life in warrior mode; and she takes fierce pride in being equally good at that. Thanks to Cole’s training, she’s a very accurate, quick-reflexed markswoman, and strong and agile despite her petite stature. (And she can now kill without batting an eye –though that’s a development she fully realizes is problematical.) This career choice puts her on a tightrope between the demands of her job and her moral instincts; the tension of walking it can make her cry and vomit at times. Shades of grey often define her alternatives; there’s a lot of food for thought here in terms of moral reflection, as there often is in this genre. That’s implicit in the story, though, not embodied in explicit struggles in Kim’s mind; survival generally dictates her choices, and the one here that many readers will most intensely disagree with and disapprove of is one she makes instantly and without having to agonize over at all. (Having a family of my own, I totally understand why she doesn’t have to.)

There’s no sex, licit or illicit, in this book (or the prior installments). Kim’s not without interest in sex; but like most teens, she sees herself as unattractive. She’s never pursued a relationship, and she’s taken to heart Cole’s advice that the best option for a hired gun is celibacy. (Though given that he was in a long-term relationship with a live-in girlfriend, he failed to practice what he preached.) Compared to the prior installments, there’s an increase in bad language here, including some use of the f-word and religious profanity, though Jeter’s use of it is still restrained compared to many writers who depict this milieu. (Kim’s own language isn’t as bad as that of her colleagues, though if I were her dad I’d still call her on some of it.) In fairness, given the kind of characters we’re dealing with, the language isn’t unrealistic. Violence comes with this territory; several people here exit the world with bullets in their bodies (some of them by Kim’s hand). But none of them are particularly nice people who would elicit any tears from the average reader; I can safely promise that “no innocents were harmed in the writing of this book.” :-)

In terms of literary quality, this is a highly gripping and emotionally evocative read, and a fast-paced one. Depiction of well-drawn, nuanced characters is one of the author’s strengths; Kim herself is a vital bundle of three-dimensioned nuance, but all of the cast here come to life. (Most aren’t especially likable, except for Donnie and Mae, but I do like Kim and root for her, despite her rough edges; Jeter lets me understand where she’s coming from, and her narrative voice makes me empathize with her.) There’s also more of a mystery element here than in the previous story arc, though I still classify this as action-adventure rather than mystery. It has to be said, though, that this book isn’t as well crafted as the preceding. There are editorial issues, some minor. but several more serious. In places details, plot elements and conversations are inconsistent with things written before, which can fray (though not break) the thread of the plot. (The worst of these is where a character dies in one chapter, but reappears alive in the next one!) That cost the book a star; but I’d still recommend it to all readers of the first book (though not as the starting point for the series). And I most definitely intend to follow the series to its completion!

Author: K. W. Jeter
Publisher: Lincoln Square Books; available through Amazon, both for Kindle and as a printed book.
Book 2 of 4 in the Kim Oh series, containing previously available titles Real Dangerous People and Real Dangerous Place.
A version of this review previously appeared on Goodreads.

Regarding the Case of Joan of Arc

  By

★★½
“Joan of Waco”

Joan is always a figure who has the potential to be co-opted into other times and locations. Recently, we reviewed Maid of Baikal, a novel which relocated her to the Russian Revolution. This takes a similar approach, moving her from the 15th century to a contemporary setting, and also relocating it to middle America. It begins with largely unseen forces orchestrating the bombing of a federal building, also only heard. We then leap forward to the military tribunal trial of “Joan (LaLiberte – such a conveniently appropriate name for the role, I have to wonder if it’s a pseudonym), who is convinced her actions were in accordance with God’s will. Not everyone is in agreement, shall we say.

The main plus here is the lead actress, who is instantly plausible in the role, It’s clear that Joan, as first encountered, is absolutely possessed with unshakeable faith. However, things like an encounter with a relative of one innocent victim, begin to suggest her belief is not on the utterly solid foundation it initially appears. On the other hand, the main problem is an obtuse and distanced approach, which makes it hard to be sure what approach the film-makers are taking. It’s brave to position an extremist as the heroine of your film. Yet, it feels like they chicken out, and are unwilling to take that ride to its natural conclusion, instead swathing almost every scene in a haze of moral ambiguity.

The modern setting does cement the moral that historical – or, indeed, current – narratives are almost always subjective. At the time of her death, Joan of Arc was a heretic to the Catholic Church; now, she’s a saint to the same body. A similar angle becomes very apparent here: the script has Joan visiting locations such as Waco, Ruby Ridge and Oklahoma City, the stories of which depend largely on your own, pre-existing beliefs. Everyone surrounding the case seeks to manipulate it and Joan to their own ends, whether it’s chief interrogator Major Calhoun (Cook), or the Human Rights Watch advocate (Hunter), who wants Joan to use her rights, in order to help LGBT activists in Hungary. It’s agendas, all the way down. Hell, there’s even a character identified in the end credits as “The Deep State.”

I think I’d rather this had picked a lane and stuck to it. I don’t care particularly which lane: make Joan a terrorist who totally deserves to die for her crime of cold-blooded murder, if you want. Or a heroine, bravely fighting for what’s good in the country, a reminder of the awkward truth that the United States was formed by armed insurrection. This wants to be both, and neither, playing its cards too close for the audience to be willing to bet on it with any emotional investment. As a result, the ending doesn’t pack the wallop you feel its aiming for, though I certainly admire the attempt to spin the story in a new way.

Dir: Matthew Wilder
Star: Nicole LaLiberte, Christopher Matthew Cook, Erin Aubry Kaplan, Alice Hunter
a.k.a. American Martyr

Rendez-vous

  By

★★★★
“There’s so many crazy people out there…”

I did not originally expect to be reviewing this here. I watched it because of the technical elements, which I’ll get to in a bit. However, by the end, it does qualify – though you certainly wouldn’t think so from how things begin. It gets underway with Lili (Puig) waiting for a date arranged over the Internet with Eduardo (Alcantara). He shows up late, very apologetic after having been mugged, and having had his phone taken, but is utterly charming, and the chemistry with Lili is immediate. They end up back at his place for dinner. But as he’s cooking on the kitchen, the tone of the evening changes, when she hears his supposedly stolen phone going off in his jacket…

That’s the beginning of a shift in content from warm romance into something considerably darker, and in which the dynamic changes several times before the final credits roll. As the above indicates, it initially seems that Eduardo is the problem. However, it’s considerably more complex, with Lili also having her own secrets. Quite how it’ll play out remains in doubt until the final scene, with the best-laid plans going astray along the route. I will say this though: if I ever engage in a kidnapping scheme, I won’t be answering the door to visitors. This does deliver some black comedy, when a drunk pal of Eduardo swings by, and wildly misinterprets the situation unfolding in front of his booze-filled eyes.

I mentioned the technical side. The hook here is the movie unfolds in a single, 100+ minute shot. Even more startling is what director Arrayales said: “We couldn’t afford another chance to shoot the movie again, so the movie is the only take we did. We really prepared hard, for three weeks with the actors, and a week with the DP just to plan the whole movie. That was about it: four or five weeks of rehearsals and one chance to make it.” Hard not to be impressed. While certainly not the first to use a single shot, most either fake it or, at least, get to use multiple takes. It’s a tribute to the makers that, after initially being the focus, you largely forget about the gimmick, with the story and characters taking over.

A good portion of the proceedings are more mental than physical. Eduardo pushes Lili for what he believes to be the truth, while she is resolute in stating he has got the situation very, very wrong. However, it eventually becomes more direct in its action, with a hunt unfolding around the two levels of Eduardo’s house (complete with make-up and effects artists sneaking around to apply their art out of shot!). You may well figure out the final direction before it happens, yet I’d be impressed if you accurately predict the specifics of the resolution. Though it’s not especially important if you do. Between the technical execution and the other elements, there’s more than sufficient elsewhere to justify the experience. 

Dir: Pablo Olmos Arrayales
Star: Helena Puig, Antonio Alcantara

A Resistance

  By

★★★
“Not your usual women-in-prison film…”

This takes place in 1919-20, when Korea was under occupation by the Japanese [there seems to be quite a lot of this about; I’ve seen a bunch of Chinese movies set when that country was occupied by Japan as well]. Even demonstrating against the Japanese, or in favour of Korean independence, was sternly forbidden, with those taking part likely to be arrested and thrown in prison for months. If they were lucky, that is: an opening caption tells us 7,500 were killed in the protests or died in jail subsequently. Even for those merely arrested, this was not a “nice” prison, to put it mildly, with horrendously over-crowded conditions (24 to a cell!), freezing temperatures and meagre rations.

Once such prisoner was Yu Gwan Sun (Go), 16 years old at the time of her imprisonment: her sentence was three years, due to contempt of court being added on to the normal charge. However, she would not be cowed by the punishment, and refused to bow to the will of her captors – for example, refusing to speak to them in Japanese, even though she could. Such disrespect, and her “defiant face”, inevitably brought Yu into conflict with the authorities, including the warden, and Korean collaborator Jung Chun-young, who acts as a translator. They try to break her will, but her refusal to accept even her status as a prisoner, never mind their authority, remains defiant.

The historical Yu does seem to have been an unrepentant, patriotic bad-ass, sometimes referred to as Korea’s Joan of Arc, and with at least half a dozen films based on her life story. While in prison, she wrote: “Even if my fingernails are torn out, my nose and ears are ripped apart, and my legs and arms are crushed, this physical pain does not compare to the pain of losing my nation… My only remorse is not being able to do more than dedicating my life to my country.” Joe films almost the whole movie in stark black-and-white, save for occasional coloured flashbacks, and music is also used sparingly. This certainly gives a realism to proceedings, though I did feel the portrayal here was a bit too good to be true – putting the “Saint” in “Saint Joan”, if you wish.

It may also be a little restrained, with the tortures inflicted on her coming across as little more than an inconvenience. Perhaps the little things here are most effective, such as the prisoners sharing body warmth, to try and protect a new-born baby. It builds to Yu’s carefully crafted act of defiance, leading a cheer for Korean independence which flows through the prison and to the outside world, triggering further anti-Japanese protests. Even after her fellow inmates are released, she is kept in jail: the final lines of dialogue are an exchange that sums up her obstinate refusal to give up. Asked “Why must you do this?,” Yu almost shrugs: “Then who will?” [She died at age 17, still in jail, a few days before her scheduled release date.] This shines a light onto an area of history I knew nothing about, though I’m hard pushed to say it illuminated much more than the heroine.

Dir: Joe Min-ho
Star: Go Ah-sung, Ryu Kyung-soo, Kim Sae-byuk, Kim Ye-eun

Recompense, by Michelle Isenhoff

  By

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

This is set around fifty years after “the Provocation”, a series of unsolved mass abductions which led to Capernica becoming a strictly-controlled hierarchical society of Uppers, Lowers and the Military. Orphan Jaclyn Holloway is a Lower, living in near poverty in the seaside town known as Settlement 56. The only way out for a Lower is to pass the stringent test which allows entry into the Military. On graduating from the local school, Jaclyn Holloway, known as Jack, narrowly fails to make the grade, but is visited by Willoughby who offers her instead a position in the Axis, a shadowy security organization. It turns out the abductions are starting up again, and Jack has a key role to play in finding who is behind the new wave, and stopping them.

There are chunks of this which are a little too Hunger Games. Most obviously, the authoritarian government and rigid class structure, with the heroine at the bottom. There’s also the (sigh…) love triangle, with Jack increasingly torn between hunky local boy Will, who did pass the Military test, and hunky sophisticate Ethan, her partner in the Axis. Is is just not possible for any YA heroine to remain in one, committed relationship for the duration of a series? Hell, a single volume? That’s the bad news. The good is… well, just about everything else, to be honest.

What I particularly liked was that it’s not the case that Lowers = good and Uppers/Military = bad. It’s easy for this kind of book to settle for simplistic black and white; Isenhoff doesn’t go that route, and it’s the better for it. The motivations of almost all the characters seem legitimate and well thought-out, though as yet, we don’t know much about the real antagonists here. For spoilery reasons, I can’t say a lot, but I imagine they are going to come out of the shadows much more in subsequent volumes. Jack’s ties to them [again, has there ever been an orphan in YA fiction without a dark secret hidden in their past?] weren’t a great surprise, yet help act as a counter-balance to her growing skill-set.

The physical action is quite low in quantity here, not least because the heroine is in training for a good chunk of this book. However, it’s well-handled, and to some extent, the restraint makes the moments that there are, more effective. Particularly notable was towards the end, with Jack scaling a 70-foot high grain elevator to help with a bit of impromptu demolition. Credit is also due to Isenhoff for getting balance right at the end, between tying up loose ends and holding the door open for the next episode. What you get here is fully satisfying, and if you’re not curious what happens next, you’re a tougher critic than I. If I didn’t have forty odd books already in the “to read” pile, I’d likely be interested in seeing where this goes.

Author: Michelle Isenhoff
Publisher: Amazon Digital Services, available through Amazon, both as a paperback and an e-book
1 of 5 in the Recompense series.