Tag: s

Stiletto, by Caddy Rowland

  By

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.

Satanic Panic

  By

★★★½
“Good girls go to hell. Bad girls come from there.”

It’s the first day as a pizza delivery gal for Samantha Craft (Griffith), and things aren’t going well, with no tips being received. When given the chance of a delivery to a rich neighbourhood, she pounces – only to find herself getting stiffed again. This time, she sneaks in to demand her gratuity, which drops her in the middle of a satanic ceremony overseen by coven head, Danica Ross (Romijn). They’re attempting to summon Baphonet, but have hit a snag. Their intended vessel, Danica’s daughter Judy (Modine), no longer qualifies as a virgin, so Sam’s presence is highly convenient. For Sam? Not so much. Though perhaps to her benefit, there’s a bit of a power struggle in the coven, with Gypsy (Myrin) fed up of playing the second satanic banana to Danica.

This is largely anchored by Romijn, from the moment we see her literally up to her elbows in a dead body, groping around for its soul. You might not realize how much she matters, until a moment where it looks like she has abruptly cashed in her chips. The sense of disappointment I felt was palpable, and it was a great relief to find this was a red herring. She hits just the right spot between coolness and insanity, and is a lot of fun to watch. Modine brings the moody teenager to the max, though you can see why finding out your mother intends to sacrifice you would make you a bit grumpy. She gets some deliciously foul-mouthed lines, such as, “They’re not going to stop until you’re strapped naked to a barbed-wire altar with the 15-foot beast of Gehenna and his double-pronged demon dong walking out of your cooch chute like it’s a revolving door of ground beef.” Towards more picturesque speech, as Reader’s Digest used to say.

In comparison to this mother-daughter pairing from (literally) hell, Sam is a little bland: likeable enough, yet needs a better character arc. The Sam we see at the end feels only slightly changed from the one being shaken down for a $5 “security deposit” by her boss at the beginning. Otherwise, it’s definitely a case of the bad girls also having more fun. There are nods toward social commentary: the war here is both class-related and generational i.e. boomer vs. millennial. Much the same goes for the gender depictions, where almost without exception, all the men are incompetent idiots. Yet this is all handled lightly enough to avoid being ham-handed, and any message remains subservient to the entertainment content, as it should.

Not skimping on the red stuff, it skews strongly towards practical rather than CGI, which is always laudable in my book. It builds towards a decent finale, even if not quite delivering the killer rabbit demon god for which I was hoping. There’s still enough here to make for a cheerfully bloody time, even beyond watching Romijn wipe the floor with her younger co-stars.

Dir: Chelsea Stardust
Star: Hayley Griffith, Rebecca Romijn, Ruby Modine, Arden Myrin

SheChotic

  By

★½
“You’ll need a break.”

Within about two minutes of starting this, I realized I had made a terrible mistake, and was watching something barely reaching the amateur level of film production. Still, I soldiered on – albeit for some loose definition of “soldiered” – until the bitter end, mostly so I could issue an informed warning about this to any prospective viewers. Maxine (Mitchell) is rather upset when she discovers her boyfriend, music video producer Lance (Watts) has been cheating on her with Lana (Bryant). Mind you, she’s clearly a bit unhinged already: for example, telling him she’s pregnant when she isn’t. So it’s not much of a surprise when her reaction to his two-timing is to kidnap Lance, tie him up in her basement and submit him to various indignities, along with seeking revenge on Lana. Which, apparently, includes sleeping with her father (Walker).

If this all sounds like completely ludicrous and implausible nonsense… I have done my job as a reviewer, because that’s exactly what it is, buttressed by poor audio quality, questionable directorial decisions (the conversation where the camera spins around the participants like a hyperactive house-fly was an especially dubious choice) and a final twist which managed to be both out of left field and entirely predictable at the same time. About the only thing which I did quite like, was the way Maxine’s personality splits into two distinct characters. One is urging her on to do ever more malicious deeds, while the other is trying to take a higher moral path. Surprisingly – considering the ineptness everywhere else – it’s decently handled on both sides of the camera. Even if I doubt anyone ever thought, “I want an erotic thriller which largely avoids actually nudity, with a black, female version of Gollum in it,” this aspect is likely responsible for this avoiding a dreaded and rarely awarded one-star rating.

I was amused by the po-faced disclaimer from the director which opens this: “Due to my strong convictions, I wish to stress that this film in no way endorses support of violence, abuse against women or other subject matter that may be considered offensive.” Several points come to mind. Firstly, if you have to add a disclaimer to your film like that, you’re doing it wrong. Secondly, it’s little more than empty virtue signaling anyway: It’d be far more notable if a director stated “I wholeheartedly endorse violence.” Thirdly, any abuse here is far more by women: what is Mr. Fiori’s stance on that? Sadly, it appears we will never know, save for the unlikely event of there being a SheChotic 2. Fourthly and finally, it’s never a good sign when the text which starts your movie is worthy of deeper analysis and commentary than 95% of what follows it. Though if it had instead simply read, “Abandon hope all ye who enter here,” it would certainly have been equally valid.

Dir: Leandre Fiori
Star: Erica Mitchell, Robert D Watts, Brittany Bryant, Jason Walker

Soni

  By

★★
“A policewoman’s lot, is not a happy one…”

This takes place in the Indian city of Delhi, and despite the title and the poster, is really about two policewomen, almost equally. Title billing goes to Soni (Ohlyan), a young  officer who is coming to terms with life after divorce from her husband, Naveen (Shukla). She is also the possessor of a fierce temper, which repeatedly gets her into trouble because she’s unable to keep her cool with suspects. Forced to play clean-up is her boss, superintendent Kalpana Ummat (Batra), who seems to see something of her younger self in Soni, as well as appreciating the junior cop’s potential. But there’s only so far she can protect Soni from the consequences of her outbursts.

Ayr is going for a documentary feel here, using a lot of hand-held camera and single takes, which makes it seem as if the movie is following the characters, rather than them acting as directed. The problem is that there just isn’t enough in the script to sustain interest: we are not, for example, following Soni through the investigation of one particular case which could have acted as a common thread, tying things together. Instead, we get a series of semi-random incidents, which are more or less the same. Soni gets involved in an incident. Soni loses her temper after a man says something bad to her. Soni hits the man. Her superior officer has to deal with the aftermath. There are at least three cycles of the above, which is probably two too many. She literally can’t even go to the bathroom, without a fight breaking out.

That said, the policing aspects are still quite interesting, and I don’t envy either of the women, doing what has to be a thankless job; if this depiction is correct, Indian society is still inhabiting the Stone Age as far as gender equality is concerned. But even that aside, you’re picking the bones out of cases which are rarely clear-cut. For instance, one alleged sexual assault here might be nothing more than a dispute about rent, as Soni suspects, or may be legitimate, as Kalpana reckons. Figuring out the truth in these situations is as much an art as a science, and it’s here, as well as in negotiating the shoals of political influence, where the movie works best.

Unfortunately, it’s dragged down heavily, by the weight of the two women’s personal lives, which are tedious and uninteresting. Soni’s ex-husband keeps trying to get them back together; Kalpana has to deal with a husband, also a police officer, who outranks her, and a mother-in-law who is demanding grandchildren. This is all sub-telenovela rubbish, and doesn’t seem to add any informative or enlightening angles to either character. It also becomes more than slightly monotonous in its gender depictions, with men shown almost inevitably as lecherous, venal, corrupt or, at the very least, blindly indifferent. The lack of any true conclusion may be “realistic,” yet instead provides a final nail in the coffin.

Dir: Ivan Ayr
Star: Geetika Vidya Ohlyan, Saloni Batra, Vikas Shukla, Mohit S. Chauhan

Satan’s Sword + Elven Blood, by Debra Dunbar

  By

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

The first volume in the Imp series, A Demon Bound, was one of the most entertaining books I’ve read of late. It told the story of Samantha Martin, the human vessel occupied by a demon “who has chosen to spend her life among us mortals, rather than in the underworld… largely because it’s more fun up here.” I was thus stoked to read the next two entries in the series, with Sam’s further adventures. She’d ended the series having been “bound” to an angel, Gregory, and in the subsequent parts, this is now causing issues for both of them. He is getting flak from his colleagues for his association with her, while she is experiencing unfamiliar emotions, such as loyalty and kindness.

It makes sense to cover both of these as one volume, as they combine to represent a significant story arc. The main thread in that is her hell-spawned brother, Dar, has got in the bad graces of upper-tier demon, Haagenti. Unfortunately, that escalates into Haagenti putting out an infernal hit on Sam – as well as those she cares about, in particular her all-too human boyfriend, Wyatt. To deal with that, she ends up taking on a job for an elven lord, locating the offspring of an unfortunate liaison between an elf and a succubus – the latter just happening to be Sam’s foster sister, Leethu.

The main problem, I felt, was Dunbar over-stuffed these books with ideas. If she’d stuck to the basic concept above, and developed it properly, it might have worked a bit better. Instead, there are any number of threads which feel undercooked, to a greater or less degree. For example, the serial killer targetting Sam’s slum tenants, or the teenage boys who managed to summon her, courtesy of a ritual they found on the Internet. The latter feels especially rife with potential, sadly never realized. Or the heavenly bureaucracy in which Sam gets entangled, complete with committee meetings and detailed reports. I’d rather have heard more about these fascinating and amusing ideas, than the detailed discussion concerning the breeding habits of elves we get.

Fortunately, the heroine remains as wonderfully twisted a character as ever. Though I must confess, the angel influence is a little worrying, given what made Sam so deliciously bad was her complete lack of scruples. For when you are all but immortal, you can afford to push other entity’s buttons – such as when she manages to goad another angel into an all-out brawl during one of those committee meetings. There may have been a stale Danish pastry involved. If this sardonic edge becomes dulled due to the angelic influence, it would be a real shame, since it’s one of the main things which makes Sam stand out in the field of literary action-heroines. We’ll see what happens as we go forward in the series.

Author: Debra Dunbar
Publisher: Volumes 1-3 are available as an omnibus from Anessa Books, available through Amazon, as an e-book
Books 1-3 of 10 in the Imp series.

Sleeping Dogs Lie

  By

★★
“Dogged by issues.”

Account Armando (Cabellero) has made a series of questionable decisions, the two largest of which are: a) skimming from his organized crime connected client, Mr. Nakamura, and b) cheating on his wife Eleni (Giannatou) with his secretary, Luna (Zanella). These both come to a head when Eleni walks in on the pair of them, and the three of them take a long drive to a remote house in the desert, with Armando in the trunk of the car. There, Eleni prepares to extract the access information to the account where he has stashed the ill-gotten gains – an account Luna is rather unhappy to discover was created in her name. However, Armando knows this information is the only thing standing between him and a hole in the desert, so won’t give it up easily. And what, exactly, are Luna’s allegiances? Is she on his side or that or Eleni?

After a satisfactorily intriguing start, this falls apart after Armando breaks free of his bonds, and vanishes into the blackness surrounding the cabin. Far too much of the film thereafter consists of running around in the near darkness, and you’re left peering into the gloom, trying to figure out who is doing what, and to whom. [Low-budget film-makers need to realize that their product is far more likely to be seen on the small screen than a big one, and light/shoot on that basis] Though the problems start earlier, with a script that seems a draft or two short of polished. For instance, Eleni talks at length to Armando about how the foot is the most sensitive part of the body, then drives a nail right through… his hand?

It doesn’t help that the lead actress appears to be operating largely in her second language. What we get here is an object demonstration of the difference between speaking English, which she does perfectly well, and acting in English. It’s the latter which is an issue, and one made all the apparent by a scene or two where she gets to revert to her native Greek. The difference, in a positive direction, is palpable. Maybe it should just have been made entirely in Greek and Spanish?

But the weakness here is mostly the storyline, which relies too much on contrived incompetence necessary to the plot. By which I mean, if the trio had a lick of sense, events would have unfolded in three radically different directions. Eleni, in particular, stops being the intelligent and resourceful woman she initially appears, the one which I was looking forward to seeing, taking her revenge on an idiotic and unfaithful husband. Instead, by the time this ends, with one final twist beyond what is either necessary or plausible, you’ll be hard pushed to muster any reaction beyond a sigh, or possibly a small, marginally derisive snort.

Dir: Konstantinos Kovas
Star: Markella Giannatou, Miguel Angel Caballero, Joanna Zanella

Sisters in Law

  By

★★½
“Law and disorder”

This is exactly the kind of “mismatched cop” film in which you’d expect to see Melissa McCarthy, if it was ever remade by Hollywood. Though since two decades later, McCarthy would star in The Heat, they probably don’t need to bother. Here, the trope of tough, world-weary cop Jacky, is played by Ng – inexplicably, the subtitles repeatedly call her Joan, which confused the heck out of me for a bit. She gets an unwelcome new partner in the shape of idealistic and by-the-book Mary (Chan). Of course, there’s the inevitable friction before the pair come to respect each other.

After being accidentally involved in a jewellery heist, they get to investigate the case. The robbery was actually staged by the gems’ owner, Hanks Lee (Kong) for insurance purposes, which is why the robbers start turning up dead. Jacky and Mary have to locate the last survivor, with the unwilling help of his girlfriend (Hung), before the loose end he represents can be tidied up. Complicating matters is the growing relationship between Jacky and Hanks, to the concern of her partner. While in her own sub-plot, Mary has issues with her widowed mother’s new boyfriend, because he’s a supposedly reformed gangster.

It’s so incredibly generic, it’s hard to think of a time when this would have seemed the slightest bit original – even back in 1992, when this was made. There are no surprises at all to be found in the plot or characters, save perhaps the caricatured male colleagues who get their come-uppance at the end… by being assigned to the Gay Crimes department. Laughter all round! Every aspect of that angle is incredibly nineties, and so impossible to imagine in a modern film, it becomes kinda refreshingly incorrect. On the other hand, safe to say it’s probably not the element which the makers most wanted to stick in the viewer’s memory. The two leads do have a nice chemistry though, and that keeps things chugging along pleasantly enough, covering over the paper-thin nature of the story.

Still, it’s one of eighteen films listed in the IMDb for Ng this year, and you certainly get the sense this was something put together and churned out with no great regard for quality. There isn’t even that much action, save for the jewel robbery. Things do perk up at the end, after they locate the last robber in a closed amusement park – only for Jacky unwittingly to spill the beans on his location to Hanks, leading to him sending his posse there. Fortunately, Mary’s impending father-in-law is there, to draw on his old, very particular set of skills. It’s quite energetic and well-staged, though falls some way short of doing enough to move the needle far. There’s no doubt that just about everyone involved has been part of significantly better films. Though if you are in the mood for something entirely undemanding and light, this would probably pass muster.

Dir: Andy Chin
Star: Sandra Ng, Charine Chan, Kong Wa, Catherine Hung

Shuddhi

  By

★★★
“Social justice vs. warrior.”

I should probably start by providing some background the film omits – likely because the intended Indian audience were well aware of it. In 2012, a notorious gang-rape took place in Delhi, the victim subsequently dying. Of the six attackers, four were sentenced to death and one committed suicide in prison – but the sixth, being a juvenile, could only receive a maximum sentence of three years. This loophole appalled many, including two journalists depicted in this film, Jyothi (Nivedhitha) and Divya (Karagada), who begin a campaign to revise the law.

At the same time, American photographer Karlyn Smith (Spartano) returns to India, with a very different but even more personal mission: taking revenge on the men who raped her. This is a highly-risky job, beginning when her attempt to buy a gun turns into a mugging. Matters aren’t helped when another attempted robbery leads to her attacker’s death, and a subsequent police investigation by Rakesh Patil (Purushotham). Nevertheless, she persists, tracking down and eliminating the gang responsible like a female Charles Bronson; initially, one by one, then finding the remainder as they crash a house party.

It really feels like two different movies edited together. You have Jyothi and Divya, touring the country putting on little stage plays, offering an interpretive dance version of gang-rape in a bid to raise awareness. Then there’s Karlyn, opting for a considerably more direct form of protest: shooting rapists. The threads only overlap at the end, in an extended coda where Karlyn may or may not have drowned. It’s all rather confusing, and the film’s insistence on jiggling the time-line for dramatic effect is also more irritating than enlightening. For instance, it opens with an off-camera shooting, that turns out – for no good reason – to be the second robbery attempt on our vengeful heroine.

The good news is Spartano – who has almost no previous feature work to her name – does an excellent job with her part of the film, and it’s that which held my interest. Interesting decision by the makers, to create and cast an American character for this role, rather than using an Indian actress. [The director know the actress from his time at the New York Film Academy, and also brought on board an American music director and cinematographer] Yet it still manages to weave in to its narrative strands from Indian mythology: the title is an alternate name for the goddess Durga, the Hindu warrior goddess. Wikipedia tells me her “mythology centres around combating evils and demonic forces that threaten peace, prosperity and dharma of the good. She is the fierce form of the protective mother goddess, willing to unleash her anger against wrong, violence for liberation and destruction to empower creation.”

Hard to argue with that: at one point, Karlyn says, “When you get used to it – killing – it’s as easy as breathing.” And there’s one particularly memorable shot at the party where Karlyn just stalks past an opening, and it suddenly feels like a wildlife documentary about tigers hunting. Just a shame they film didn’t go full-bore into this aspect, rather than diluting it with Jyothi and Divya’s ineffectual social campaigning.

Dir: Adarsh Eshwarappa
Star: Lauren Spartano, Nivedhitha, Amrutha Karagada, Shashank Purushotham

Sumuru

  By

★★
“Queen of Outer Space”

A spaceship piloted by Adam Wade (Shanks) and Jake Carpenter (Bridgett) crashes on a planet at the far end of our galaxy. They’re searching for a colony which had landed there almost a millennium previously, only to find things not as expected. Somehow, over the centuries since, women have taken absolute control of society, relegating men to literal slaves, and worshipping a giant serpent as their deity. However, the men discover the planet is about to shake itself to pieces, and the residents need to be evacuated. Adam makes an ally of the current queen, Sumuru (Kamp), but that alone makes an enemy of high-priestess Taxan (Levin). She has held a grudge ever since the women elected Sumuru leader, and is intent on taking her place, by any means necessary.

This was (very loosely) based on a character created by pulp writer Sax Rohmer, best known as the creator of Fu Manchu. Less renowned is his character Sumuru, originally invented by Rohmer for a BBC radio series just after the war. She then became the villainess in five books published during the fifties. There were two previous movie adaptations in the sixties, also with Harry Alan Towers involved as producer. Shirley Eaton – best known for her painted death in Goldfinger – played Sumuru in The Million Eyes of Sumuru and The Girl From Rio. I’ve seen the first, and it doesn’t qualify for inclusion here; though if you’re interested, here’s my review elsewhere.

I mention all this, largely because it means I have about a hundred words less to write in regard to this. It’s a thoroughly forgettable South African film, which plays somewhere between an old-school episode of Doctor Who (the last time I saw so many scenes apparently set in a gravel-pit) and The Perils of Gwendolyn. It is at least slightly closer to the first novel than the previous movies; the book did have Sumuru plotting to create a “new world order,” ruled by women, but here it’s more a result of unfortunate circumstance, centuries ago, than any kind of deliberate plan. And given how quickly society unravels after the arrival of Adam and Jake, I’m uncertain how it lasted 900 years.

This really needs to have done more with the concept of a gynocentric civilization, and pitting warrior priestess against technocrat is an interesting idea. However, the film just doesn’t have the resources to construct anything close to what’s needed, with little more than 20 actors of either sex. There are too many missteps, such as the way the women speak exactly the same language as the spacemen [compare 12th-century English to what we have now, as a yardstick], or the remarkably well-preserved “ancient” technology. Adam occasionally provides a nicely sardonic commentary on the silliness of it all, and we do eventually get the hoped-for face-off between Taxan and Sumuru. It’s precious little return, and you’ve got to endure far too much running around rocky terrain, for even these small pleasures.

Dir: Darrell Roodt
Star: Michael Shanks, Alexandra Kamp, Simona Levin, Terence Bridgett –

The Sisterhood

  By

★★★
“Many Mad Maxines.”

This one may be the origin of the meme, “After the apocalypse, food, water and gasoline are in short supply – but hair-spray will still be plentiful.” For there’s no denying the absolute silliness of this slab of post-apocalyptic nonsense. But it’s still imaginative and energetic enough that my interest was largely sustained. We’re apparently long enough after World War III for it all to have become the stuff of almost-forgotten legend. In the aftermath, the world is now occupied by roaming bands, mostly of men. However, certain women are gifted with special powers, and they have banded together into the titular group, under their reverend mother, and are feared by most as witches.

After her settlement is attacked by Mikal (Wagner, looking like a low-rent Chuck Norris), and her brother killed, Marya (Johnson) hits the road, seeking revenge. She meets two members of the Sisterhood, Alee (Holden) and Vera (Patrick), and when they discover Marya’s gift, the ability to communicate with her pet hawk, they allow her to join them. Vera is abducted by Mikal, who then heads off to add her to the collection of Sisterhood members, being held in one of the few remaining cities. Alee and Marya follow, until a shortcut into the forbidden zone of radiation and mutants lets them stumble across a pre-apocalypse arms dump. Now armed with automatic weapons and a tank (!), they are thoroughly well-equipped, first to rescue Vera, and then storm the city and liberate the rest of their sisters.

Made in 1988, the debt this owes to the Mad Max trilogy (which had finished with Beyond Thunderdome, three years earlier) is apparent to the point of being blatant. There’s a lot of whizzing around in a quarry, with giant fireballs going off just to the side of the target. For, while it’s remarkable the heroines are able immediately to drive their tank, their talents clearly do not extend to aiming the guns accurately. This is all highly mockable, not least that it’s apparently set in the far-distant future of… er, the year 2021. Yet those involved play it all entirely straight, and eventually I found this seriousness rubbing off on me. There were occasional moments which, if not making me go “Wow!”, did extract a somewhat-impressed “Huh.”.

Director Santiago should be well-known to readers here, having also given us Angel Fist and The Muthers; he brings much the same combination of female empowerment and exploitation here. Because, for all the strong female characters, they also seem to spent a inordinate amount of time either chained up or getting their tops ripped open – and, occasionally, both. But Holden and Johnson manage to rise above the low-rent production values with their dignity intact – even if nothing remotely like the video sleeve is to be found in this one! By the admittedly low standards of the genre, this is likely well-above average. And we only have to wait two years for it all to come to pass…

Dir: Cirio H. Santiago
Star: Rebecca Holden, Chuck Wagner, Lynn-Holly Johnson, Barbara Patrick