Kat, by K.L. McRae

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

Firstly, I’m still trying to figure out the relevance of the cover (right). With a heroine named Kat, why is there a dog pictured? It’s not as if she even owns one at any point. The “size of the fight” line… well, tenuous at best. I should probably have listened to my instincts and skipped this frankly implausible tale, about a teenage girl who is smart, attractive and a black-belt martial artist with 34E breasts. Yet she ends up having to get work as a stripper, a job at which she is naturally brilliant (thanks to adopting a pseudo-Xena persona), in order to keep her alcoholic mother out of debt. She breaks the arm of a particularly unpleasant customer, Alex, an act which gets her the attention of Alex’s business partner. He runs McKenzie Personal Security, and offers Kat a job as a trainee bodyguard.

She and the boss, a black Scotsman who is terminally ill, end up falling in love, while Alex, who had been set to inherit the business until Kat showed up, plots against her with his cronies. This ends in a nightmare gang-rape, setting up Kat to take vengeance. Oh, and the all-powerful MPS has a “black” division, which kills pedophiles and the like for money. If you are not going, “Wait, what?” at multiple points during the above synopsis, you’re a more tolerant reader than I. So much of this sounded like dubious sexual fantasy, I was genuinely surprised to discover the author is a woman. I mean, it could still be dubious sexual fantasy; I just tend to expect that kind of thing more from male writers.

The structure is all over the place. After she is attacked, Kat’s actions seem completely bizarre and pointless, and the book fast-forwards through a couple of years, until a later explanation that falls some way short of convincing. Meanwhile, neither Alex nor his allies come over as any kind of credible threat: in particular, their assault on her rural farmhouse is portrayed as painfully inept. Which, I concede, may be part of the point. As the book says, “vile bullies…might have some skills but put them up against someone who really knows their stuff and the only chance they had was blind luck.” During this, Kat sits back in her stronghold and lets her allies take care of the threat, bringing the villains to her like a Christmas present for her amusement. She certainly spends more time training in martial arts, than actually putting her skills into practice. In fact, she probably spends more time attending karaoke nights than being an action heroine. I was somewhat surprised Kat did not turn out to be a classically-trained opera singer, while she was at it.

All told, sadly, this book turned out to be a bit of a dog. I guess the cover was representative enough, after all.

Author: K.L. McRae
Publisher: Little Silver Publishing Ltd, available through Amazon, both as a paperback and an e-book
1 of 2 in the Kat series.

Becky

★★★½
“Dear diary: my teen angst bullshit has a body count.”

Becky (Wilson) is the quintessential troubled teenager. Since her mother died, she has become increasingly estranged from her father, Jeff (McHale, replacing the original choice, Simon Pegg, who had to drop out due to scheduling conflicts), not least because of his new girlfriend, Kayla. Dad arranges a weekend away for everyone at the family cabin to try and repair things. However, relationship problems rapidly become the least of everyone’s concerns. For a quartet of escaped Aryan Brotherhood convicts, led by Dominick (James, going completely and effectively against type), have turned up, seeking a key they had hid on the property. Not too happy to find an inter-racial family, they capture everyone except Becky, who had stormed off in one of her huffs.

But hell hath no fury like a pissed-off teenage girl. Especially once Dominick starts torturing her father, the one person about whom Becky truly cares. Naturally, you do need to be able to accept that a 13-year-old – even one as unquestionably highly-motivated and vindictive as Becky – can take out hardened criminals, especially largely without the equalizer of a firearm. Yet the script does a fairly good job of overcoming this, setting up scenarios that allow her to use the tools at hand to her advantage. It helps some of her adversaries aren’t exactly the sharpest tools in the box, stupidity being a significant factor in their deaths by impalement and outboard motor.

The script also does a good job with villains Dominick and the 7-foot tall Apex (former WWE wrestler Maillet), who are respectively smarter and given greater depth than the bad guys usually receive in this kind of film. The latter, in particular, gets more of a character arc than anyone else bar Becky, becoming a surprisingly sympathetic character for a neo-Nazi. This development definitely helps the movie, when Becky is not extracting her furious, bloody vengeance [For instance, we could have done without the flashbacks to Becky playing the ukulele for her terminally ill mother. No, really]. Though it’s Dominick who provides the film’s most insanely hardcore moment, involving a scissors and an eyeball.

However, there is a fatal mis-step by having the movie’s climax take place after dark. This leaves the audience peering into the gloom, trying to figure out what’s going on. I’m still not sure what was being pulled behind the ATV on which Becky rides into her final battle. Going by its effect, I’m guessing at some kind of industrial strength earth-tilling equipment… This shadowy coyness is at odds with the in-your-face energy the film had shown up to that point, and which had it contending for a spot in Top 10, of any genre, for 2020. In the end, it probably falls just short, yet is still an enjoyable slice of brutal, hormonal savagery. As the end credits rolled, my mind drifted off to visions of a Hanna vs. Becky crossover story. Hey, we can all dream, can’t we?

Dir: Jonathan Milott, Cary Murnion
Star: Lulu Wilson, Kevin James, Joel McHale, Robert Maillet

Don’t Cry Mommy

★★½
“And the first shall be last”

I say that, since this Korean film appears to have been at least a partial inspiration for not one, but two Bollywood films which were recently reviewed here: Maatr and Mom. And, indeed, Thai telenovela Revenge also has something of the same theme: a mother who seeks vengeance against those who raped her daughter. If I’d seen this first, it would probably have had a greater impact. As is, even though not the film’s fault, it feels over-familiar. What is the film’s fault is a tone which appears engineered to be as depressing as possible, by any means possible. While fair enough in some aspects – you can’t argue it’s inappropriate for the material – this reaches its peak in an unforgivably melodramatic moment where a cake shows up with the title of the film on it. I’m fairly sure that eye-rolling and a derisive snort was not the intended reaction.

It does possess a couple of minor twists. When daughter Eun-Ah (Nam) is assaulted by a gang of fellow scholars, they videotape the attack. The threat of posting this is then used to blackmail her into further humiliating acts. It’s not really much of a surprise when this eventually triggers further tragedy. To the film’s credit, it’s not very interested in the assault, which is depicted in just a few seconds; it’s certainly not emphasized or stressed in the way some entries in the rape-revenge genre do. However, neither does it seem particularly interested in the revenge side, which is crammed into the last 20 minutes or so, in an almost perfunctory fashion. There’s no sense of catharsis to be found for Yoo-Lim (Yoo Sun), and by extension, not for the audience either. Which may be the point –  yet it doesn’t make for much… “fun”. Not that it’s impossible for a depressing film to be worthy, from Grave of the Fireflies through to Requiem For a Dream. However, it’s really not why I’m a fan of the girls with guns genre.

But the main problem is, it’s all too predictable, by no small measure. This was apparently based on a real Korean case, but in that, the perpetrator was herself raped at the age of nine, and waited twenty-one years before killing her attacker. I can’t help thinking that, while it might have been more difficult to turn into a screenplay, it would definitely have been a take with which I’m not familiar. Instead, this offers just another parade of predictable developments, ticking off boxes as it goes. If I’ve seen one scene in the courtroom where a group of smirking assailants get off with little or no punishment, I’ve seen half a dozen. It has gone beyond a trope, and the execution here does nothing to alleviate the severely cliched nature of the sequence. It is a pity, as I can’t fault either lead actress for their performance, which put over no shortage of emotional anguish. I just wish it had been in the service of a better story.

Dir: Yong-han Kim
Star: Yoo Sun, Nam Bo-ra, Shin Dongho, Yu Oh-seong

Ek Hasina Thi

★★★
“Hell hath no fury…”

A somewhat cheesy melodrama, this throws together elements from Western pot-boilers Double Jeopardy and If Tomorrow Comes, adds a handful of Bollywood spice, and to be honest, probably overcooks the whole thing a bit. The title translates as “There Was a Beautiful Woman”, presumably referring to the heroine of the piece, travel agent Sarika (Matondkar). Into her office one day comes hunky businessman Karan Singh Rathod (Khan), and after some reluctance, she begins a relationship with him. However, it turns out he is actually a mobster, and manipulates her into taking a fall rather than incriminating him, which nets Sarika a seven-year prison sentence. Escaping from jail, she vows to destroy her former lover, and in turn, works on framing Karan with his criminal pals, by making it look like he murdered a colleague and stole money.

The most fun part for me, was the section in the middle where it turns into a Bollywood women-in-prison movie. I’d have watched an entire movie about that, as Sarika – wholly unprepared for the experience – gets dropped into the literal hell-hole which is an Indian jail. [Seriously: I don’t want to hear any complaints about Western prison conditions ever again] This is what transitions her into being the bad-ass she needs to be, to be able to take down Karan, and is where the melodrama reached its peak, right from the get-go. Her cellmate offers Sarika a biscuit, then warns her, “There’s a woman here named Dolly. Beware of her. She’s crazy. She’s a real wretch. She has committed four murders.” Of course, the cellmate is Dolly. It’s like watching an entire season of The Yard, condensed into thirty minutes.

The strong female characters aren’t limited to the heroine. There’s also the prison matriarch, Pramila (Kazmi), who takes Sarika under her wing. And on the other side, is ACP Malti Vaidya – she is portrayed by Biswas, who played the title role in Bandit Queen. Vaidya is the no-nonsense policewoman who gets the heroine convicted (what’s a little finger violence between cops and criminals?), yet also wants to work her way up the chain and catch Karan as well. I’d not have minded seeing either of them get more screen-time, perhaps at the cost of the early scenes depicting the growth of the relationship between Sarika and Karan.

For at 137 minutes, it does meander a bit much, especially when its story should be accelerating forward. I have some questions about the final act, after the heroine escapes from jail during a fire. Firstly, whoever is in charge of security for Karan’s mob friends is in for a really poor performance review this quarter. And the eventual revenge taken, would have made more sense if we’d seen Karan suffer from musophobia, rather than Sarika. Overall, however, it’s an entertaining piece of nonsense, which even got Chris off her mobile phone for its duration. If you’re averse to the Bollywood standard dance routines, you’ll be pleased to learn they don’t show up here at all.

Dir: Sriram Raghavan
Star: Urmila Matondkar, Saif Ali Khan, Seema Biswas, Pratima Kazmi

Gone by Dawn + Gone by Dawn 2: Dead by Dusk

Gone by Dawn ★★★½
Gone by Dawn 2: Dead by Dusk ★★½
“Stripped to kill.”

I decided I might as well combine these two into a single review. Having watched them back-to-back, even though made and set three years apart, they felt very much like the continuation of a single story about the same characters. The main one is Roxy (Mele), who is a dancer at a Wisconsin strip-club run by the sleazy Stag (Therrien), mostly as a money-laundering front for local organized crime. When he and his pal rape an employee, Alana (Pearce), Roxy along with the victim and another dancer, Crystal (Fierman), decide to take revenge by robbing Stag. That means getting into the safe in his office where the money is, and he’s not exactly going to give up the combination freely. Still, nothing that a piano-wire garrotte round the testicles can’t solve, surely? Except, as usual in this genre, the heist doesn’t go smoothly. Stag’s office quickly begins to resemble a mortuary, as unwelcome guests need to be handled.

This was, to be honest, better than I expected. There is, of course, the usual tension in grindhouse-style films about strippers – wanting them to be seen as more than T&A… while simultaneously being required to depict them as T&A. But the movie manages to strike a good balance here: while certainly not short on nudity, the lead actresses deliver performances which manage to make their characters feel like real people. The script also avoids people having to act like idiots too much, and the issue of the safe’s combination is solved in a way which is actually kinda clever. The low budget is a bit obvious in the limited locations and cast – we don’t get much outside of the club and an apartment – although in some ways, that works as much for the feature as against it. For example, it’s likely a factor in story-telling which certainly doesn’t hang around; maybe 65 minutes between opening and closing credits. And while there may be honour among thieves, there doesn’t appear to be much among strippers.

I didn’t think the sequel worked as well. While Roxy returns, she has been recast, being now played by Matheis – I’m not sure what happened to Mele. Still, I did laugh when one supporting character greets her with, “You look different!” Oddly, while the first film started with Roxy skipping town, the second sees her back, working at the same venue where she was involved in a multiple homicide. I know strippers are renowned for making poor decisions, but still… It turns out, having absconded with nine hundred grand of the mob’s money isn’t a good idea. They want it back, and to this end, have sent a trio of hired killers, named the Three Bears by Roxy. They’re prepared to do anything, up to and including both kidnapping and murder. But Roxy, along with Jesse (Radzion), a friend of Alana’s, and another dancer, Alura (Laventure), plots to turn the tables on the Three Bears, by robbing their boss.

Quite why the mob waited three years to take any action isn’t clear, and it’s just one of the problems with the story. Remember how I said the small-scale worked for the first film? That feels less true here, with the expanded script resulting in a bunch of loose ends and an unnecessarily stretched running-time of 107 minutes. For instance, we are introduced to a pair of cops, but they’re effectively unnecessary, and the same goes for a subplot which has Roxy visiting Stag in prison (one of the few players to return from the first film). Generally, I think I preferred Roxy 1.0 as well; I was just never quite convinced by Matheis in the role of an exotic dancer. The bits that work e.g. the ‘snake in the grass’ are mostly borrowed from its predecessor, though again, the movie does a good job with its characters.

Together, they make for a decent double-bill, though if you’re short on time, you might as well watch only the opener, since the sequel adds little in the way of development.  It’s perhaps telling that I must confess to getting distracted in the middle of GBD 2 by a lengthy article on location Club Pierre, one of the oldest strip-clubs in Edmonton. So, not Wisconsin at all. :) But it probably says something when a movie’s location is more interesting that the film.

Dir: Shaun Donnelly
Star: Gone by Dawn – Saleste Mele, Hannah Fierman, Katelyn Pearce, Jayson Therrien
Gone by Dawn 2: Dead by Dusk – Allana Matheis, Skylar Radzion, Ashley Laventure, Koreen Perry

The Rhythm Section

★★★
“Not really worth the wait”

The action-heroine genre has seen its share of high-profile flops in the past. But this long-delayed entry, originally due out in February 2019, is among the worst, setting a record for the lowest ever opening at the North American box-office for a wide release. It took in only $2.8 million from 3,049 theaters when it opened in January, and ended with a worldwide gross below $6 million, against a budget of $50 million. While smaller in scale, that’s a Cutthroat Island level of failure. Did it deserve such a fate? Well, it’s not that bad. It ain’t great. But it seems almost defiantly unlikable, going against cinematic norms in a way that’s brave – and, I suspect, ultimately foolish. The result is something whose commercial demise is unsurprising, beginning with a title that makes only tangential sense, even after you’ve seen the film.

It’s the story of Stephanie Patrick (Lively), whose family died in a plane accident, causing her to go into a downward spiral. Three years later, she’s a crack whore, when contacted by journalist Keith Proctor (Jaffrey). He tells her the crash was actually a terrorist attack, basing this claim on information received from a source with intelligence connections known only as “B”. After Proctor is murdered, Stephanie finds B (Law) and convinces him to help her acquire the necessary skills to become an assassin. Stephanie then goes after all those involved in the attack, including the shadowy figure known only as U-17. To do so, she takes on the identity of Petra Reuter, an assassin killed by B, and uses the resources of ex-CIA officer Marc Serra (Brown), now working as an intelligence broker.

I think viewer expectations may have played a part here. Reading the above, and with the film coming from the producers of the 007 franchise, you are likely imagining a slick, Bond-esque slice of escapism. It’s not that. First off, Stephanie is… Well, let’s be honest, a bit shit as an assassin. When she asks B how long it’ll take for her to become good, he replies, “Your menopause will be a distant memory.” They don’t have that much time, and the results are consequently rough around the edges, not least because she almost completely lacks the necessary killer instinct. She has the motive, just not the method.

Frankly, she’s very, very lucky to survive the first couple of missions, and that’s only one of the aspects which strains credibility. The makers get a demerit for using Ireland to fake the North of Scotland, and it appears remarkably easy to track down international terrorists. Perhaps the book on which this was based did a better job? Given the gritty nature of proceedings, I was expecting a greater level of intrigue and deception. For example, despite being officially “unattached”, I was predicting B or Marc to still be working on behalf of their former employers, manipulating Stephanie towards their ends. Maybe I’ve just watched too many episodes of Homeland.

There are some impressive elements. Probably the most outstanding is a car chase, filmed to look like one take, shot entirely from inside Stephanie’s vehicle as she flees the scene. It’s almost as good as the one from Children of Men, the gold standard for such things. I also did like Lively’s performance: she has rather more to do here than she had in The Shallows, and acquits herself well, both dramatically and in the action scenes (she smashed her hand up badly while filming a fight scene with Law). However, on reaching the end, I found myself unmoved, and given the general lack of spectacle present, this isn’t one I’ve much interest in revisiting.

Dir: Reed Morano
Star:  Blake Lively, Jude Law, Sterling K. Brown, Raza Jaffrey 

The Nightingale

★★★
“Pack your bags, we’re going on a guilt trip!”

History is largely filled with people being unpleasant to each other, usually for belonging to a different race, religion, nationality or even species [if you want to go back to the Cro-Magnons pushing out the Neanderthals about 40,000 years ago]. It’s sad and unfortunate, but it’s not something for which I feel personal responsibility – not least because it tends to work in both directions. My ancestors may have been part of the British Empire who, for example, invented the concentration camp in the Boer War. But my ancestors were also subject to the ethnic cleansing of the Highland Clearances, forced out to make way for sheep. Attempts to make me feel guilty for the sins of my forefathers are thus largely doomed to fail.

And what we have here, is a well-crafted exercise in manipulation. It’s set in what is now Tasmania, then a penal colony where the British garrison were trying to maintain control, both of the prisoners and the indigenous population, using savage brutality against both. One of the former is Clare Carroll (Franciosi), an Irish woman convicted of theft who is now married to another prisoner and working in an army garrison. She is at the mercy of Lieutenant Hawkins (Claflin), who wields a letter of recommendation, which would give Clare and her family freedom, as power over her. Circumstances escalate to a night where she is raped and left for dead, while her husband and infant child are murdered. Hawkins leaves for the capital of Launceston, in pursuit of a promotion. Clare follows, intent on revenge, helped on the trail by Billy (Ganambarr), an Aboriginal tracker, who has also borne the brunt of colonial savagery in his past.

It’s effective, in the same way that a 2×4 across the head will get your attention. It’s not exactly subtle in the parallels being drawn between Clare and Billy, who have both suffered at the hands of the evil Brits, and who subsequently bond over their victimhood. Hawkins is such an evil swine, he might as well spend the entire film twirling his mustache. But despite being such an obvious attempt at generating outrage, it’s not without its merits. Franciosi delivers a fierce and intense performance, as someone who has lost everything, and so is prepared to go to any lengths to take revenge on those who destroyed her life.

Perhaps the most chilling sequence has her hunting down a soldier, already wounded in an encounter with the local population (which seems to have strayed in from an 80’s Italian cannibal film!). The savage way in which she takes him down and then beats his head to a pulp with her rifle-butt… Yeah, she is clearly highly motivated. However, the simplistic way in which white men are, almost without exception, portrayed as stereotypical villains undoes much of the good work put in by the actors, and dampens its overall effectiveness.

Dir: Jennifer Kent
Star: Aisling Franciosi, Baykali Ganambarr, Sam Claflin, Damon Herriman

Black Lagoon: Roberta’s Blood Trail

★★★½
“When you go on a journey of revenge, dig two, uh, MULTIPLE graves…”

Almost four years after Black Lagoon, this five-episode mini-sequel was released, re-uniting us with Revy (Toyoguchi), Rock (Namikawa) and the other members of the Lagoon Company. They remain, as before, a somewhat shady outfit, operating out of the South-East Asian wretched hive of scum and villainy, which is the entirely shady city of Roanapur. This arc is also a reunion of sorts with Roberta (Tomizawa, who has been doing voice work since back when I was a “real” anime fan, in the days of Bubblegum Crisis!) She’s the lethal Colombian maid who guards the Lovelace family, with whom Revy and crew crossed swords in one of the Black Lagoon arcs, before Roberta returned to South America.

A politically-motivate bomb explosion there took out her master, and set Roberta off on a trans-continental mission of vengeance, beginning in her country, before crossing the globe to Roanapur. That’s because the people responsible are a black ops group affiliated with one wing of the US government. They are now in town, preparing to go up into the Golden Triangle on their next mission, capturing a Laotian drug-lord. Following her are the Lovelace heir, Garcia (Ikura) and back-up killer maid Fabiola. But quite a few others are also interested in the outcome, including another wing of the US government (CIA vs. NSA), and the various factions of organized crime who run the city.

If there’s an overall theme here, it’s perhaps “redemption for past sins.” Rock, in particular, is seeking to atone for his failure to save a young girl, in the events that ended Black Lagoon. But it sometimes seems that everyone has history, of one kind or another, which has left them carrying baggage: even the NSA assassins have issues. Rock may be the central character here and, disappointingly, Revy spends much of the show on the disabled list. But despite her being sidelined, there are no shortage of strong female characters who take no crap from anyone: Roberta, Fabiola, Miss Balalaika, Eda. Say what you like, Roanapur is clearly an equal-opportunity hive of scum and villainy.

If anything, this is perhaps even more hyper-violent than its predecessor; going from cable TV to video seems to have taken off some of the restraints. Parts #3 and #4 in particular seem almost like an extended exercise in carnage around the streets of the city – amusingly, neither the authorities nor the other inhabitants appear too fazed by these happenings! It’s all a little confusing, with so many players in the game, but things settle down a bit for a solid finale, upstream in the jungles of Laos. All told, if you liked Black Lagoon, then this is almost certainly going to be appreciated in the same way. One review called this a cross between the works of John Woo and Takashi Miike, and it’s hard to argue with that an an overall assessment.

Dir: Sunao Katabuchi et al.
Star (voice): Megumi Toyoguchi, Daisuke Namikawa, Michie Tomizawa, Kazue Ikura

Girl with a Gun

★★★
“Taiwanese knock-off, unsurprisingly, proves not as good as the original”

Make no mistake, Ms. 45 is one of the absolute classics of the girls-with-guns genre. So, if you’re going to remake it – officially or, as in this case, not – you had better bring your A-game. It’s possible that Chen did indeed bring his A-game, as did Yin in the role of Liang Pi-Ho, the mute garment worker assaulted twice in one day, who kills her second attacker and begins an escalating spree of misandrist revenge. I haven’t seen enough of their work to be able to judge. But Chen is not Abel Ferrara, and Yin is definitely not Zoe Tamerlis. All of which renders this largely pointless. Although it still gets to ride the power of the original, and is sometimes interesting, when going its own route rather than being a shot-for-shot copy of its inspiration.

Mostly, it’s the latter, with the same nosy land-lady (Wong), and the victims including a guy who picks up Liang’s bag on the street, a sleazy photographer, and a gang of street thugs. The middle of these, for example, crashes back onto the backdrop in his studio in an almost identical way to the Ferrara version. Despite this Xerox approach, there just isn’t the same level of intensity in the central performance, and nor do you get the scuzzy, unwashed depiction of New York. It is worth noting that this Taiwanese production is set in Hong Kong – it has been suggested for censorship reasons? That would explain why the shots of Liang dismembering her first victim are shot in solarized negative. This version does also include a nightclub scene while an instrumental version of The Human League’s Love Action plays in the background, which was… unexpected.

Let’s discuss the other differences. It opens with news stories about attacks by the mentally ill, and there are wraparound segments which have our heroine receiving treatment in an asylum. This, along with her muteness being explained as a psychological reaction to the death of her parents in an accident, provides more “justification” for her actions in comparison to Ferrara’s version. The film includes coverage from the police side too, of the investigation into the trail of bodies she has left around the city. Interestingly, we don’t see the heroine dress up as a nun for the party at the end [perhaps because it’s not a Halloween event]. However, the female cop who is on the case does go undercover as a nun for one sequence.

Many of the changes are relatively small – tweaks, rather than significant changes. For instance, rather than the landlady having a dog, Liang herself has a cat. Though in a morbid twist, she feeds her kitty some of the remnants of her victim. The gang attack is preceded by a battle between two different groups, both of whom have tracked Liang to a deserted Hong Kong park: the winners get… Well, gunned down by her. There is, apparently, a more radical reworking “that spliced in new scenes featuring Caucasian actors and an inexplicable satanic cult,” and was sold in the West, for no good reason, as American Commando 5: Fury in Red, a.k.a. Crackdown Mission. Iconic exploito-schlock master Godfrey Ho allegedly had a hand in that cut-up, and it sounds loopy enough to make me want to see it.

There is one scene which is both genuinely new, and memorable. In her wanderings, Liang stumbles into a group doing a rendition of He’s Got the Whole World in his Hands, partially in sign-language, and is deeply affected by the mournful performance. [Really, it’s an upbeat tune, but this version sounds like it was done by Joy Division, such is the gloomy nature] I’m not sure quite why it’s there. Perhaps to demonstrate that Liang still possesses her humanity, and just needs it to be touched somehow? It’s a weird little scene, yet one that works, and shows that the film-makers here are not devoid of their own imagination. It’s a shame they didn’t choose to employ a bit more of it, taking their unauthorized remake down some other original directions.

Dir: Yao-Chi Chen
Star: Hsia Yin, Pauline Yuk-Wan Wong, Alan Tam, Lun Hua
a.k.a. Fury in Red

Stiletto, by Caddy Rowland

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

Revenge, as the saying goes, is a dish best served cold. Or, from another saying, hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. Illustrating both are the story told here. Jasmine Albertson had already gone through the lows and highs of life, before meeting and getting married to Stu. But when Stu’s business partner John Mickelson makes him take the fall for John’s embezzlement, leading to Stu’s suicide, Jasmine vanishes off the grid in Los Angeles. She moves to New York and sets her sights on a long-term plan to make John pay. And not financially: as she tells her gay best friend Tory, “I want him to know he fucked with the wrong people when he fucked over Stu and then me. I want him to suffer. And then I want to send him to hell.”

To this end, she creates an alter ego who will be able to ensnare the notoriously lecherous Mickelson. That’s Grace Huntington, a woman who cares not one whit for John’s (ill-gotten) gains or power, is all the more desirable as a result, and makes him willing to give her complete control. Three years after departing, “Grace” returns to LA, slowly reeling her prey in, and bringing him inexorably towards a bloody rendezvous in a 20th-floor hotel room. The weapon of choice? The high-heels shown on the cover, dating from her time as an exotic dancer; for one of them conceals a switchblade.

This isn’t suspenseful, except in the sense that you’re not certain what will happen in that hotel room. Right from the start, before we flash back to the events which led to Stu’s death, we know Jazz is planning to kill John. As a result, you’re left wondering less what will happen, than how it will unfold, and is almost Shakespearean in the inevitability of it all. Though on the other hand, it’s an unrepentantly shallow potboiler, with more than its share of foul language and a sprinkling of graphic sex. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, of course. However, the fact you know the destination doesn’t hurt too much, since it gives Rowland time to bring you along with Jazz on her journey towards murder.

Make no mistake, this is more or less revenge porn, with the heroine going up against a truly repulsive man in the shape of Mickelson, who has close to no redeeming features. It’s certainly simplistic, with no much in the way of setbacks for Jazz, or problems to overcome, and Tory serves no real purpose, except as a sounding-board for her emotions. As a one-off, I still must admit to being (somewhat guiltily) entertained, even if this isn’t exactly literary haute cuisine. I’m not certain how this can be spun into a multi-book series, though I suspect it’s as much about the shoes as anything – and that’s actually quite an interesting idea. High-heels of death, anyone?

Author: Caddy Rowland
Publisher: Amazon Digital Services, available through Amazon, both as a paperback and an e-book
Book 1 of 4 in the Avengement series.