Tag: seal of approval

The Eye of Ebon, by P. Pherson Green

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

Independent Goodreads author (and one of my Goodreads friends) P. Pherson Green has been writing since the late 90s, and has previously had short stories published in various venues. However, this novel, the opener for his projected White Sword Saga series, is his long-fiction debut. He graciously gifted me with a hardcover review copy; no guarantee of a favorable review was requested, or given. My wife and I read the book together, during the intermittent and usually short times we were both traveling together in the car; so the nearly two months it took to read is misleading. It would have been a much quicker read if I’d read it by myself, devoting all of my individual reading time to it.

This is a work of traditional epic fantasy, set (as most tales in this genre are) in a medieval-like setting resembling the Europe of that day, except in an invented fantasy world. (A helpful map is provided, though it doesn’t show every single locality a reader might like to locate.) It would be fair to say that most if not all English-language epic fantasy written from the last half of the 20th century on owes something to the inescapable influence of Tolkien’s monumental LOTR saga, and this novel is no exception. We have here, ultimately, a quest narrative involving an artifact of great significance (and great seductive power, of an unwholesome sort). The characters’ world is one with a very long history, involving elder races and cataclysmic wars which have consequences for the present. Two non-human races, the Allarie and the Groll, are respectively much like Tolkien’s elves and orcs.

More importantly, we’re very definitely dealing here with a conflict between good and evil, with domination of a world at stake; and the conflict is not simply one of “Us” (the “good” characters) vs. “Them” (the “bad” characters), but rather within “Us” as well, since all humans can be tempted by evil. And like Tolkien (who once famously characterized the LOTR corpus as a “Catholic work”) Green is a Christian author, who writes from a Christian conception of the universe. Neither writer makes any explicit reference to Christianity, and indeed both are dealing with a world in which Christ has not been born; Middle Earth is supposedly our world long before Christianity existed, and Green’s Silver World (he introduces that name only in a short note after the novel proper) is an entirely different world with a different salvation history. But like Tolkien’s Morgoth (“the Great Enemy, of whom Sauron of Mordor was but a servant”) the entity variously known here as the Shadow, the Wyrm, the Foul Pretender or the Dark Beguiler is recognizable as Satan; and the apparently pagan polytheism of the Silver World isn’t quite as polytheistic as it initially seems.

For all that, Green is his own person with his own literary vision and style; The Eye of Ebon is not a direct LOTR knock-off, in the way that Terry Brooks’ The Sword of Shanarra is. A major difference, of course, is the distaff perspective. While Tolkien’s Eowyn is an action-capable female, she’s not the heroine of the saga; his major characters, and most of the characters who display any real agency, or play a direct role in defeating evil, are male. Here, the two viewpoint characters, protagonist Samiare (whom you see depicted on the book’s cover) and essentially co-protagonist Rugette are both female, and formidable fighting females who carry the brunt of the book’s down-and-dirty struggle against evil, and who make the key, crucial gut wrenching and difficult moral decisions at the climactic points. (I was already inclined to rate the book at five stars, but those were the moments that clinched it, and for me moved this tale into the ranks of great, rather than merely good, literature!)

To be sure, unlike Rugette, whose combat skills, especially archery, result from rigorous training since she was in her early teens (I’d guess her to be about 30 here) and have been honed in years spent as a high-ranking warrior and scout fighting the Groll, Samiare, an untrained girl of 15, owes her prowess to a mysterious sword. At the very beginning of the main narrative, she lies dying in the snows of her homeland from cold and blood loss after being gang-raped by a band of Groll and renegade humans, who carved an obscenity on her belly, beat her and tortured her with branding irons, after killing her father and making off with her sister. When she cried out for deliverance “to the one god she knew –the one who watched over,” that sword was gifted to her by a glowing man-like being; and it proves to be no ordinary sword. But she still has to hold it and wield it –and make decisions about how she uses it.

The above paragraph suggests another difference from the Tolkien corpus; this narrative is much grittier, and gorier. While the gang-rape itself isn’t really directly described, we can tell it occurred; and while Green doesn’t make the brutalizing and torture here any more drawn-out than it has to be to make us feel it, he does make us do that. This sets a tone for a very violent book; there’s a lot of mortal combat action with edged weapons, and the Groll are an extremely sadistic and treacherous bunch, even to each other. (Tolkien, in a letter, once characterized the orcs as “almost irremediable,” but allowed that no being created by God is wholly irremediable. We get the impression here that the Groll may be; but even here, Green depicts them as having a claim to merciful treatment when they’re disabled in combat, which I regard as a plus.) So there’s a high body count, with quite a lot of humans and humanoids dying, often in nastily unpleasant ways. There’s no “pornography of violence,” but we do see the spilled entrails, severed limbs, split skulls, etc. However, there’s no quoted bad language, and no explicit sexual content. (In fact, the only reference to sex at all, besides the implied rape above, occupies a tastefully phrased single part of one sentence, in 230 pages of text proper. This would definitely not be characterized as a “romantasy.”)

Green has a serviceable, dignified and assured, naturally flowing prose style that holds interest well. Settings, scenes and people are described vividly enough to be pictured in the reader’s mind (and some of the scenes conjured rival those depicted by Robert E. Howard or A. Merritt for atmosphere and spectacle!), but not over-described. World-building is delivered along the way of the storyline, without info-dumps (there are a couple of roughly page-long appendices, “About the Silver World” and “The Four Lands,” which should be read). There aren’t many serious typos, the worst one being that “reigns” tends to be substituted when “reins” is meant (but that’s a quibble). We come to realize before long that the Prologue describes events taking place millennia before the main story, and occasional interspersed flashbacks set in the same time-frame aren’t distinguished by typeface or a heading; but the reader quickly comes to identify and understand these, and they do convey important information.

There’s no cliff-hanger here; the challenge of the main plot is brought to its conclusion. But it’s clear that the overall epochal struggle of the Four Lands is only beginning, and I’m invested in continuing the series!

Author: P. Pherson Green.
Publisher: Gold Dragon Publishing, available through Amazon, both for Kindle and as a printed book.
A version of this review previously appeared on Goodreads.

The Queen of Villains

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★★★★½
“Hard-hitting, and hitting hard.”

Not long ago, I tagged Black Doves as the best television of 2024. If I’d seen this before December 31, it would have beaten it out. It’s a top-tier depiction of the world of Japanese women’s professional wrestling in the eighties, weaving truth, fiction and legend together in a way that’s highly effective – probably even if you’re not a particular fan of sports entertainment.  It’s the story of Kaoru Matsumoto (Retriever), who escaped a dysfunctional family to join All Japan Women’s Pro Wrestling (AJW). Initially struggling to achieve success, she found her niche as nightmare villain Dump Matsumoto, feuding with former friend Chigusa Nagoya (Grace), until the pair faced off in a legendary, brutal battle, destined to lead to public humiliation for one of them.

We all know professional wrestling is staged, with the outcomes predetermined, right? [Do not used the word “fake”: I will cut you!] Here, things are… murkier. This treads a delicate line between that and kayfabe, the wrestling term for promoting it as reality, and genuine competition. The stance here is interesting, suggesting that while those in charge, like promoter Toshikuni Matsunaga (Saitoh), can have a result in mind, that relies on those in the ring agreeing to it. This isn’t always the case [one wrestling show I remember attending definitely had a genuine fight, for backstage reasons], and here, Matsumoto is a loose cannon, prepared to go to any lengths to put herself over. Or her character: the lines are certainly blurred here, to the point of near invisibility.

What matters, is that the audience believed it was real, to the point that Matsumoto received death threats as the feud intensified. It’s perhaps hard to understand just how popular AJW was, but their TV shows were getting considerably bigger ratings in Japan at its peak, than WWE or WCW were during the Monday Night Wars. It was a true cultural phenomenon – oddly, with teenage girls at the front of fandom. Nagayo and tag partner Lioness Asuka (Goriki), known as the Crush Gals, were basically Taylor Swift: they actually had a successful music career. Below, you can see the video of the real match mentioned, between Nagayo and Matsumoto. I defy you to find any wrestling bout, anywhere, where the crowd were so utterly into it.

The show does a fabulous job of capturing this, and the bouts as well are very well-staged – the real Nagayo worked as a technical advisor. Wrestling at the time was very different from what it is now, especially for women, and Matsumoto’s brutal style was unprecedented. She could chew up and spit out current WWE champion Rhea Ripley, using her as a tooth-pick. Indeed, it feels as if the final match is the dramatic pinnacle, and should end the fifth and final episode. It doesn’t and it feels like it’s heading for an anti-climax thereafter, until recovering [while not mentioned, it’s caused by AJW’s rule that wrestlers had to retire at age twenty-six!] But the drama behind it also has a great deal of nuance, depicting her troubled family life, and willingness to do whatever was necessary for her career.

This came at personal cost – not least her friendship with Nagayo. But it also affected her relationship with her family, in particular her mother and sister. Matsumoto initially wanted to become a wrestler, so she could protect them from her abusive and alcoholic father, but in the end, even her family were not safe from the ripples of her in-ring “villainy”. It all works on multiple levels, and provoked genuine emotions in me, to a degree rarely managed by any TV show, least of all one based on (lightly fictionalized) reality. Towards the end, the promoter lets a young girl in to see the show, and I was left wondering whether this was perhaps intended to be someone like Manami Toyoya, the greatest woman wrestler of all-time.

Another series, perhaps The Queen of Heroines? We can but hope. 

Creator: Osamu Suzuki
Star: Yuriyan Retriever, Victoria Grace, Takumi Saitoh, Ayame Goriki

Black Doves

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★★★★
“Never bet against black.”

This was my favourite new television show of 2024, and might have been my pick overall. It’s a very strong mix of action and drama, with a fabulous cast of characters. I think I might have to go back to the first season of Killing Eve to find anything as good in our genre, and it’s not dissimilar in other ways too. Helen (Knightley) is married to Britain’s Minister of Defence, Wallace Webb (Buchan). But unknown to him, she is a Black Dove, mining information from him to pass on to her handler, Reed (Lancashire), for sale to the highest bidder. She’s also having an affair, but her lover is killed, along with two others, in murky circumstances. 

Reed calls in her top assassin, Sam (Whishaw), to protect Helen, fearing she might also be targeted. He has a history with Helen, dating back to before the birth of her children with Wallace. Things spiral out of control, involving the suspicious death of the Chinese ambassador, his missing daughter, a previous hit Sam botched, and Helen’s relentless pursuit of revenge, while trying to keep her family life intact. It’s a lot of balls to keep in the air, but the script does a fine job of avoiding confusion, with the wrap-up proving particularly admirable in its clarity. While I’ve read complaints about it being implausible, I have definitely seen worse. There’s room for both this, and more grounded spy shows like Slow Horses.

If you’re looking for strong female characters, there are a slew here, beyond Helen and Reed. Indeed, it feels like the entire underworld, criminal and intelligence, is run by women, while the “above ground” apparatus is male-dominated. The one I liked best was acerbic Irish killer Williams (Ella Lily Hyland), whose loyalties are uncertain at first. However, all the supporting cast are solid, and the relationship between Helen and Sam is among the best non-romantic ones I’ve seen recently between a man and a woman. Should mention: Sam’s gay. Very gay, to be honest. This annoyed the people that always annoys. But to me, it didn’t feel done for DEI purposes, or get in the way of the story.

It has been a while since we have seen Knightley here: Domino was the best part of two decades ago. Since then? Some slight sword-waving in the Pirates of the Caribbean franchise, and that’s about it. However, they do a good job of making up for lost time [note: she is not pregnant for the bulk of her action, despite the picture!] There are an especially good pair of fights against assassins sent to take her out, the second of whom is a self-professed big fan. Williams and her female partners also unleash hell, though in her case it tends to be more bullets than punches. A critical and popular success, a second series was already commissioned before the first had aired. If it can maintain the same high standard – unlike Killing Eve – there’s a good chance it’ll be among the best of… well, probably 2026. Can’t wait.

Creator: Joe Barton
Star: Keira Knightley, Ben Whishaw, Sarah Lancashire, Andrew Buchan

Dominique

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★★★★
“Ukraine 1, Colombia 0.”

We’ve been keeping an eye on the career of writer-director Ojeda since Savaged, more than a decade ago. We last saw his work with The Russian Bride, which shares the same star in Orlan, but I do feel the pieces have finally come together. Sure, this is imperfect. However, the positives are pretty damn impressive, and as a throwback to the action golden era of the eighties, this is close to spot-on. It begins with a plane crash, as the aircraft piloted by Dominique (Orlan) is shot down in rural Columbia by the local cartel. Their effort to loot the wreckage goes wrong, because Dominique is not dead, and quickly demonstrates the skills she had in a previous life as a Ukrainian assassin. 

She was badly injured in the crash, and ends up taking shelter in the small town of San Lucas, at the home of police officer Julio (Carvajal) and his family. He’s gathering evidence against his corrupt boss, Chief Santiago (Compte), who’s working with the cartel. When Julio is exposed, Santiago decides an example must be made of the informant, wiping out not just his employee, but his entire family. The only thing standing between them and annihilation is Dominique. After she successfully repels the initial assault, she has to fortify the family home, and prepare to fend off everything Santiago can throw at her. Which is a lot of cannon fodder. Most of it tactically inept, I must say.

The character work in this is strong, on both sides. Santiago is spectacularly evil, to the point he could have been a caricature. Yet Compte’s performance keeps it just human enough to be truly scary, due to his complete disregard for life. On the other side, Orlan keeps things very subdued, to the point of seeming dead inside, due to past trauma. Is this limited acting range? Or a very subtle performance? Could be either. In any case, it works, tiding the viewer over until the extended eruption of violence, which occupies most of the movie’s second half. As noted, it does rely on the attacking forces underestimating their opponents, to put it mildly. But Ojeda mixes the combat up nicely, and it’s a blast to watch.

The ending. Hoo-boy. It does one thing right, both brilliant and terrible at the same time. But it then bails out, what should have been the climax, is literally run underneath its end-credits. This is a brave choice by Ojeda. It didn’t work for me, and I’d rather have seen one final spasm of ultraviolence from the heroine. That it still was good enough to get our Seal of Approval says something. If it had sealed the deal, the movie could have ended up making my top ten for the year. It remains a film I enjoyed watching, and would definitely not mind seeing Dominique in action again in future. Or whatever Ojeda comes up with: I’m down for that too.

Dir: Michael S. Ojeda
Star: Oksana Orlan, Maurice Compte, Sebastian Carvajal, Alanna De La Rossa

The Shadow Strays

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★★★★½
“Dog eat dog”

Director Tjahjanto gave us one of the best action films of the last decade in The Night Comes For Us, a gory and relentless assault of jaw-dropping hand-to-hand mayhem. Follow-up, The Big 4, was a little underwhelming, but I was still stoked to hear about this, in which he puts a heroine front and centre. This is perhaps a step or two short of Night – it’s clear the lead here is not a lifelong practitioner of martial arts like Joe Taslim and Iko Uwais. However, it’s the best film I’ve reviewed on this site in 2024, likely edging out Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga, through a combination of sheer force of will and arterial spray.

The Shadows are a sect of assassins, who are basically unstoppable. 13 (Ribero) is a teenage trainee, who screws up a mission in Japan alongside her instructor, Umbra (Malasan), and barely survives. 13 gets put on administrative leave, and her enforced idleness is where the problems start. In a thread strongly reminiscent of Leon, she watches a neighbour get killed by a gang, and takes care of the son, Monji. However, he vanishes, apparently abducted by the gang, and 13 isn’t standing for that. Beginning by turning low-level enforcer, Jeki (Emmanuel), she works her way up the power structure, which goes right to the top of Indonesian political society. The resulting chaos threatens to expose the Shadows, so Umbra is then dispatched to terminate their rogue agent.

This runs a chunky 144 minutes – just a handful shorter than Furiosa – which seems a fair while for a martial-arts film. The Raid 2 and John Wick 4 are the only ones which come to mind as longer. But I can’t say this particularly felt like it; there’s not much slack. We open with the absolutely blood-drenched Japanese operation, which sets the tone early. To be honest, it does such a good job, most of what follows falls slightly short. Ribero is a model and singer, and it feels like Tjahjanto underlights a lot of scenes to help paper over this. But then there’s the final battle, between 13 and Umbra. It’s likely behind only Crouching Tiger as my favorite female vs. female fight ever: utterly relentless, and brutal as hell.

It is a little less impressive in between the fights: originality is, as noted previously, not necessarily the film’s strongest suit. Other threads are set up and them ignored, such as the Shadows’ miraculous serum, which is used by Umbra to resuscitate 13 in Japan, and never mentioned again. Maybe it’ll play more of a part in the sequel, to which the ending strongly hints, bringing in a face familiar to fans of Indonesian action. I’d love to see it, since this is definitely pushing the boundaries of action heroine cinema, in all the right ways. While imperfect, at its best this is enough to make me consider introducing a six-star rating, because it goes places I’ve never seen. When it does, the results are glorious.

Dir: Timo Tjahjanto
Star: Aurora Ribero, Kristo Immanuel, Hana Malasan, Taskya Namya

The Killing Complex, by K.G. Leslie

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

There’s something to be said for sparse simplicity, and this delivers on that concept in spades. Except for occasional flashbacks, the entire things takes place in one location: a facility somewhere in Europe. It’s where Cassie ends up, locked in a cage, after being abducted while on a trip from Britain, intending to find herself. She’s then deposited in a hall and made to fight for the amusement, gambling or whatever of online spectators. She starts off facing animals, but through pharmaceutical treatment, her strength, speed and savagery are enhanced, and the opponents – both fauna and, eventually, her own species too – become more vicious. The shock collar around her neck ensures her compliance.

In the early going, much of this unfolds inside Cassie’s head, as she goes through what perhaps seems inspired by the five stages of grief, from rejecting the reality of her predicament, through anger, and ending up in a personal commitment to do whatever is necessary in order to survive – even if this comes at the cost of her own humanity. But just when she’s on the edge of becoming a soulless killing machine, she’s relocated, and placed next to another prisoner, Thomas. He was also abducted, but more recently, so hasn’t been ground down by his situation yet, and his optimism reignites Cassie’s own interest in life. But is everything quite what it seems, or are there other agendas at work?

Without giving them away, there are a couple of very effective twists here, which I did not see coming – and, indeed, I defy anyone to say they did. The first is something of a cheat, considering how much of the time to that point has been Cassie’s internal monologue, and this has carefully hid a key piece of information. But the second works particularly well, because it demonstrates that the bad guys here aren’t stupid: Carrie is going to need to do more than bludgeon her way out. Good though she certainly is at that, as is proven repeatedly. This isn’t a book for animal rights activists though, with Cassie working her way up from herbivores to the top of the food chain, in addition to her human opponents.

I do wonder quite why the people are wasting the remarkable drugs, which help Cassie survive massive damage as well as enhance her fighting abilities, on an inter-species fight club. I’d have said the military-industrial complex would pay better than Fanduel for that stuff. But sadistic perverts gonna pervert, I guess, and so here we are. By the end, I was galloping through the pages, staying up well past my usual bedtime to do the dreaded “one more chapter.” It does end on something of a cliffhanger: usually that’s something I don’t like, but I didn’t feel like I’d been sold half a story here, and can definitely see further entries appearing here down the road.

Author: K.G. Leslie
Publisher: Self published, available through Amazon, both as a paperback and an e-book
Book 1 of 3 in the Killing saga.

A Certain Scientific Railgun – S

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★★★★
“Bigger, stronger, faster, better!”

Have you ever had this experience? There is a series you see and the series is fine, okay, solid. But without you noticing, you connect with these characters subconsciously, on an emotional level. As you watch them regularly, you get accustomed to them (though they are totally fictional) and don’t realize it until something happens, and you suddenly feel how much you have gotten attached to them. It’s not a new experience for me. It happens from time to time, but not often enough I would call it a rule, every time I watch a new TV show. Usually, I just passively experience the respective episodes and don’t waste much thought on it, least of all any kind of emotional investment.

It’s strange – at one point, when you started watching movies and series, you felt a strong emotional connection to everything, but today, it seems mostly gone. This does not only has to do with becoming a grown-up and seeing a lot more, but maybe also filmmakers and storytellers having forgotten the art of getting you emotionally involved in their plots and characters. But I have to say: A Certain Scientific Railgun got me, despite initially thinking I didn’t care much at all for the series. The show had been a satisfying, quite well told combination of “Slice of Life”-episodes, with some action-filled SF-arcs.

While for some. these “SoL” eps were unnecessary annoying filler episodes, I didn’t mind them. They provided additional colour to the big picture. I also was well aware I might not be the target audience: the Index series is the one supposed to be for the boys. Also, I went in without any specific expectations, always an advantage. Principally, I liked what I had seen, so had no problems with paying for another season. While sometimes things were maybe a bit too kawai for me, and the antics of a character like Kuroko Shirai could get on one’s nerves, the series was overall well thought-out, put attention into the details, and I enjoyed the emotional dispositions of the four girls, who all had their own character.

The next season arrived and… was even better?! Sure, it’s a subjective opinion, but I personally think the emotional investment I already had in the show paid off. The new season (from 2013, three years after the first was released) seemed to start like its predecessor: The girls going to school, spending time in their company, Kuroko abusing Mikoto… same old, same old, one might say. If one likes a season of a show, a new season is like meeting some good old friends again after a while. Then, the story starts to develop slowly… First in tiny steps that are hardly remarkable. There is a special art in storytelling when you are able to build up a story-line from small events to a big pay-off, when something finally can come to fruition and blossoms in a big climax.

People like Hitchcock, or some of the best action directors, know how to do that, but today I think it is virtually secret knowledge. I would certainly not have expected to find it in a Japanese anime, where you can be happy if one’s intelligence simply isn’t being insulted too much! It begins relatively harmlessly. Somebody claims to have seen Mikoto Misaka (our title-giving “scientific railgun”, thanks to her coin trick), but Mikoto wasn’t there at all. Then it happens again which leads to the girls talking about having a doppelganger, and eventually to the very interesting question, which forms the premise of this season: “What would you do, if you had a clone?”

Another strange thing occurs. Somebody is leaving envelopes containing money in small, dark side-streets, leading to people going on their own treasure hunt, and Mikoto & Co. try to find out who’s doing that and why. The story constantly builds and you slowly realize that you are paying much more attention to the show then you ever did before.  When Mikoto finally meets her doppleganger, it’s initially almost a shock. It leads to questions: who is the girl, why is she behaving so strangely, and where does she come from? Mikoto indeed has “sisters”. Actually, a lot of them. And these girls are part of an unethical and inhuman experiment.

The series really managed to grab me here totally, and part of it is due to the way the story is constructed, something I mentioned when reviewing the previous season. We grow attached to Misaka over time, and care for what she is going through emotionally. I don’t know what I would do if I met my clone, but I guess I would be quite angry about somebody stealing my identity and misusing my genetic map, which is something Misaka also feels. But there is something unexpected happening. While the Misaka clones appear a bit strange and speak about themselves in the third person, they are instantly likable and cute, it’s shattering to find out what kind of role they have to play in an on-going “experiment”. It was quite a shock, at least for me who came along with no idea of the evil hiding in the shadows (I’m not spoiling that here!).

Again, much of the effect of the series lies in its careful combination. On the one hand, you have cute school-girls doing harmless girly stuff: studying, social services, sitting in cafés, mocking each other, searching together (as happens in one episode) for a four-clover-leaf in a green field. Then, suddenly, a hole of darkness opens where very evil people do very evil things, with hardly any remorse or justification for their acts. The contrast makes this story shocking: in another darker show, it would have been your typical, average stuff. Here, I almost got the feeling I’d watched an anime written by the Brothers Grimm! While we have seen much worse, it’s the combination of different elements that makes this work so well.

Unfortunately, our protagonist makes the decision to play Batgirl and solve the problem alone, without her friends, which I found a bit questionable. The climax of the previous season had shown how effective these four girls are when working together, and this can also be seen at the beginning of this season. But I guess as the so-called “sister-story-arc” was also already featured, albeit briefly, in A Certain Magical Index, the writers here were bound to how events played out in that series. It doesn’t look good for our little railgun: She experiences fear, despair, helplessness and pain. It’s quite some time since I saw so many relatable and believable emotions in an animated character.

It’s always nice when a powerful character is “cut down to size”: it adds realism to any story. Fantasy and SF stories should have rules and powers should have limits. And 5-level esper Mikoto, who in the past was not above bragging about her incredible electro-talents, experiences these, physically as well as emotionally. We look differently at our protagonists when they are not the strongest kid on the block anymore. Here, we meet megalomanical, sadistic villain Accelerator, who is more than a match for Mikoto. But then, Misaka is not totally alone; for there is still Touma Kamijou, the protagonist of A Certain Magical Index, the boy who wanted to protect Misaka previously and whom she challenged to a power-fight. Maybe he can help?

There are interesting aspects here. Do super-powers make you susceptible to arrogance, because you start subconsciously to feel superior to everyone else? It’s something the powerless Saten worried about in the first season before meeting Mikoto. The character of Kongou, a level 4-esper is like that (though she becomes more sympathetic this season), as is another level 5-esper introduced at the beginning of this series. You calso remember the many, many times when Mikoto used her powers carelessly in the past. To paraphrase Francis Bacon’s famous sentence: if power corrupts, do then superpowers corrupt…um, superly?

It’s a thought, albeit never directly articulated here, and is definitely evoked when watching this story. We also get a brief look into Accelerator’s past: he has a reason why he does what he does. Once again, the show manages to give us some understanding as to the villains’ motives. It delivers a much more layered approach than just telling us, as so many stories across so many media do: this guy is bad, and has to go! It makes the show more well-rounded, the stories much more satisfying, characters more ambivalent and therefore – if I may use the word – realistic. Also, kudos to the writers of these stories for applying the laws of physics in a logical, and well-considered manner!

After this very well-built, suspenseful story arc, running from episode 2 until episode 16, I can understand why some felt the remainder of this season was a bit of a letdown. While we get another arc, the new one can’t quite compete with what happened before, though is decent on its own merits. For a while, we go back to small stories of the girls getting together and the usual jokes like e. Saten pulling up Uiharu’s skirt to embarrass her. Yes, that’s a thing. It’s alright by me. After you have clashed with the Big Bad, it’s absolutely fine to have another episode where your heroines are in a hurry to bring a cake to a meeting, where they drink tea and say goodbye to a friend who is moving away. It’s the “slice of life” aspect: if you are in for the meal, you have to eat the vegetables, too!

This season is not perfect; nor was the previous one. A possible flaw is it becomes almost a one-girl show with Mikoto on her own and her friends reduced to side characters e.g. Kuroko constantly worrying what is up with Mikoto and where her best friend spends her nights. Fortunately, this is corrected in the second story arc, dealing with Febri, a little girl who is the subject of an experiment herself. Mikoto finally learns she not only has good friends, but to take help when it’s offered. The power of friendship can even deal with very well-equipped forces of the dark and shady “underworld” in Academy City. These little lessons of morality integrated into the show, definitely leave a feel-good-feeling at the end.

Finally, we even learn about the motivations of some of the villains in the background. In a city where all those highly-enabled people are the focus of everyone’s attention, the “normal” people, regardless of how ingenious they may be or how hard they work, have hardly a chance of ever getting their spot in the limelight. Being constantly neglected can make you do very terrible things. But again: not everyone working on the side of the bad guys is necessarily an enemy and Mikoto gets her “Will Graham vs. Hannibal Lecter”-moment, so to speak! Once again the arc is well-built and develops the sensitive, emotional touches which make the show more than the usual action.

It ends in a very satisfying finale which sees almost everyone, including second-tier characters, join Mikoto’s final battle against the evil scientists’ group. There’s still a deadly satellite in orbit that could destroy Academy City unless Mikoto and Shirai get up there and blow it up in time. Shouldn’t be a problem for Mikoto, the city’s famous railgun, right? Watching this series felt for me a bit like seeing Kim Possible in an X-Files plot, spiced up with some great action from a Hollywood blockbuster. Though I could have done without the show’s main musical theme playing, once again, over the battle scenes during the finale. Here the producers really should have invested in some action music!

Some questions remain. What exactly will happen to the almost 10,000 “sisters” of Misaka? Are there other powers in the shadows we have not seen yet? Or is Academy City now free of big criminal-scientific organisations? Will Misaka get together with Touma? Probably not, since in his own series he has quite a harem of female followers. And what is with her obsession over that frog? Stay tuned, for J. C. Staff, the studio behind the show, also produced a third season, which came out a good seven years after this one. At least something good that came out of that terrible year! So, let’s continue…

Dir: Tatsuyuki Nagai and others
Star (voice): Rina Satō, Satomi Arai, Aki Toyosaki, Kanae Itō

Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga

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★★★★½
“The Fast and the Furiosa”

It was a good run. There was a point, not long ago, when action heroines could do no wrong. In hindsight, the golden era may have started in 2012 when the Hunger Games franchise began, along with Brave. Summers which followed brought us blockbusters such as Gravity, Maleficent and Lucy. Subsequent years covered the entire run of the Hunger Games and the end of the Resident Evil franchises (or, at least, phase 1 for them), and things probably peaked with Wonder Woman in 2017. Thereafter things began to decline, though I’d say returns remained strong through much of 2019. That’s when Maleficent: Mistress of Evil and Alita: Battle Angel each made over $400 million worldwide, finishing in the top 25 movies of the year.

The cracks began to show with Captain Marvel, odd though it is to say, given it made over a billion. But to a large extent I suspect it mostly surfed on the success of Avengers: Endgame. Thereafter, Wonder Woman: 1984 flopped just before the pandemic hit, Black Widow underperformed, and since then it’s been almost entirely a series of failures, with only the arguable Hunger Games reboot reaching even $250 million worldwide over almost three years since. Instead, we had one of the biggest bombs of all time in the The Marvels, followed up by the disastrous box-office of Madame Web. And now the prequel to Mad Max: Fury Road, managed an opening weekend in North America of only $26.3 million. That’s forty-two percent below its predecessor’s opening, excluding nine years of inflation.

It’s not all action heroines’ fault (though some on social media are claiming so). This year has been dismal in general. With three midweek days left on the month at time of writing, box-office for May is down 36% on May 2023 – and even that was the lowest non-pandemic May since 2001, again without adjusting for inflation. People just aren’t going to the movies in anything like the same numbers. I can’t say I blame them, when films appear on streaming services as little as three weeks after their theatrical release. Going to the pictures is expensive, and especially with the improvements in home theatre, the overall experience can end up being worse than staying at home, between travel, over-priced concessions, idiots talking on their phones, etc. Why not wait?

The counterpoint is experiences like this, a full-on, bombastic, in your face event that made full use of everything IMAX has in its locker, and surpassed anything I could get at home. Now, your mileage may vary. Poor Chris, in particular, found it too overwhelming, triggering motion sickness which forced her to close her eyes any time things got too kinetic – which was a lot of the time. We probably will not be IMAXing again in future. But the only recent comparable experience for me was Godzilla: Minus One. Re-reading my review of Fury Road, I’m a bit surprised I only gave it four stars. I’ve seen it again since, and I’ve just upgraded it an extra half-star. Put another way, Furiosa is every bit its equal. Different, but equal.

It’s a direct prequel, ending at the point when Furiosa (Taylor-Joy) leads the wives to escape from The Citadel. It begins with a much younger Furiosa (Browne) living in the Green Place, a rare place of plenty in the post-apocalyptic hell which Australia has become, along with the rest of the world. She’s kidnapped from there by minions of Dr. Dementus (Hemsworth), leader of the Biker Horde. Her mother is killed trying to rescue her, and Furiosa becomes the little, mute pet of Dementus, until he trades her to Immortan Joe, who runs the Citadel. Over the subsequent years, she becomes a key part of operations, becoming the partner of Praetorian Jack (Burke), who trains Furiosa and falls in love with her.

Dementus, meanwhile, is working to become the wasteland’s supreme ruler by taking over the Citadel, Gastown and the Bullet Farm. In an ambush at the last-named, Jack is captured and tortured to death, while Furiosa escapes only by tearing off her own arm. She returns to the Citadel, providing key advice to Joe in the ensuing war. But she never loses sight of her final goal: to make Dementus pay for what he did to her and her mother. Given she appears in Fury Road and Dementus does not… Well, you can probably figure out how this is going to end. Though the reported final nature of her revenge is not what you might expect, and has a certain poetic resonance, given what happened previously.

It isn’t quite the same relentless stream of action as Fury Road, and at almost half an hour longer, that’s no bad thing. There’s no shortage of action, but it tends to align with the way the story is broken into chapters. So you get a series of Drama-Action-pause segments – or occasionally for variety, Action-Drama-pause. There were concerns regarding the amount of CGI in the trailer, and I will say, it’s not as almost entirely physical as Fury Road either. However, what’s used is integrated very well, with only a couple of moment wheres the action momentarily seems obviously adjusted digitally. I suspect some of the landscapes were also enhanced: they and cinematographer John Seale’s work is so stunning, I don’t care there.

My other concern was having Taylor-Joy replace Charlize Theron, who simply has more presence. That does remain an issue, though to the new actress’s credit, to a lesser degree than I feared. It’s also countered by having much more of a real antagonist here in Dementus. The first film was mostly an extended chase sequence: Furiosa was running from Immortan Joe, after helping his wives escape, and they shared very few scenes together. Here, Dementus gives us a stronger “villain,” and the film as a whole is better for it. Hemsworth brings a charismatic power to his character, to the point where you can see why his henchmen follow him, unto death. Furiosa, in contrast, is really not much of a people person.

It’s difficult to pick out any one action highlight, because they are all very, very good. I think the ambush at the Bullet Farm might me the one which sticks most in my mind for now, though this may change on (the almost certain) re-viewing at home. It’s one which offers the most interesting environment, including buildings and smoke stacks, while the others are somewhat limited by operating in a desert. I mean, it is called “the Wasteland” for a reason. However, when Miller puts Jack and Furiosa in their rig, which is being stormed by almost endless waves of raiders, you really do not need a backdrop. Indeed, you could argue that any such would be at best irrelevant, and at worst a distraction.

You would be hard-pushed to argue that the $168 million budget is not up on screen. I lost count of the times when I wondered whether what I was looking at really existed in the physical world, or was matte paintings and CGI. Part of me wants to peer behind the curtain and watch the behind the scenes videos. However, part of me would prefer to sustain the illusion, which was a factor in the sense of wonder that often washed over me during the screening. It’s the quest for that sense of awe which keeps me going to cinemas, even if most of the time, I end up leaving disappointed [I’m looking at you, Godzilla X Kong…]

I also want to praise one other aspect, which may not transfer as well to my home environment (and I admit it is limited in this area): the audio. There are not many times when I can specifically point to this in particular as significantly enhancing the experience. I’m not an audiophile, and generally put what I see considerably ahead of what I hear. But in this case, Tom Holkenborg’s score and the rest of the sound elements were a notable and impressive component. From the rumblings of the engines through to the wind whipping across the Wasteland, the sonic design really worked, and allowed me to feel like I was being brought into the world of Furiosa. Well played

The problem from a business perspective is, it seems all but certain the makers are not going to recoup their investment, making it less likely you will see investments like this going forward. Fury Road probably just about broke even, so this was always going to be a gamble, especially without your leads. And, indeed, outside of the title, entirely without the character who has powered the franchise since its first installment, all the way back to forty-five years ago. In hindsight, a reaction of “What the hell were they thinking?” is probably understandable. But I am glad less-wise heads prevailed. If this is to be the end of the Mad Max universe, it goes out on another spectacular high, and not many franchises are able to say that.

Dir: George Miller
Star: Anya Taylor-Joy, Chris Hemsworth, Tom Burke, Alyla Browne

The Harlequin Protocol, by Liane Zane

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

This is the second novel in the author’s Unsanctioned Guardians trilogy, a prequel to her earlier Elioud Legacy series. The new trilogy presents the background of how the three heroines of the first one (all of whom were intelligence agents, though of different nationalities) met and formed their sub rosa partnership as off-the-books rescuers of female victims of sexual abuse and trafficking. In the first book, The Covert Guardian, Zane focused entirely on Olivia Markham, who would become the trio’s ringleader, describing her recruitment and first mission with the CIA. Olivia continues to be the main (and almost sole) viewpoint character here, but this installment also introduces the other members of the threesome, Capt. Alzbeta “Beta” Czerna of Czech military intelligence and Anastasia “Stasia” Fiore of Italy’s CIA equivalent, AISE.

My impression is that about two years have passed in Olivia’s career since the previous book (the date for this one, 2011, isn’t mentioned in the text itself as I recall, though it is in the cover copy; but I don’t remember any exact date for the first one.) Here as in all of Zane’s work, her knowledge of spy-craft, of the various brands, specs and capabilities of firearms and explosives used by U.S. and European military and intelligence services, and of the cultural and physical geography of a variety of European settings is a strength of the series, and never delivered intrusively. (Action here moves from Berlin to Brussels, to Prague and the Czech-Polish border region, and to Venice.)

We also get an inside look at the bureaucratic mindset of the present-day CIA (which has been negatively commented on in nonfiction writings by intelligence professionals who know about the subject), the penchant of some of its honchos for turf and ego protection, and the tendencies towards abuse of power that can be endemic in secret organizations. (The latter is a point of contact with John LeCarre’s work, though I suggested in my review of the previous book that Zane’s vision is more like that of Manning Coles or Alistair MacLean –like the latter, she does view espionage in moral terms, as properly concerned with thwarting genuine evil, but she’s also realistic about the moral shortcomings and conflicting agendas that intelligence agencies staffed by fallible humans can be prey to.)

Because the author and I are Goodreads friends, she graciously gifted me with a review copy of the paperback edition of this book, as she has with all of her books, as soon as it was published; though she knew I’d really liked the previous book, she didn’t pressure me for a favorable review, but trusted that the book would stand on its merits. It definitely did; I actually liked this one even better! What earned the added appreciation (and the fifth star) was what I felt was the heightened dimension of moral challenge and choice here, which for me often makes the difference between great and merely good fiction, and which isn’t as strongly present in the first book. Discerning what the right thing is here requires thinking for oneself, not just obeying orders; and deciding to do it comes with a real risk, not just of harm to life and limb, but of disapproval from the powerful, of serious repercussions to one’s career, and maybe of legal punishment. The strong, distinct characterizations of the three heroines, who are each very different individuals though sharing a basic gut instinct for justice and decency, is also a positive feature that makes the book stand out from the pack.

Bad language here is minor. There’s no explicit sex; Olivia stumbles on a gang rape at one point, but it’s not graphically described, and though we see the traumatized and abused victims of sex trafficking (and in one case the dead body of a victim), we aren’t forced to see what they went through. As far as Olivia’s personal life is concerned, it’s briefly mentioned that since the first book, she’s been intimate with only one man, whom she loved and expected to marry (readers of the preceding trilogy will know that didn’t happen!), but the couple’s privacy isn’t violated.

We do have a lot of violence here, and a high body count, but Zane doesn’t make it any more gory than it has to be. IMO, this trilogy should be read in order. However, I wouldn’t say that the previous trilogy necessarily needs to be read first; and it’s really in a different genre(s) than this one, so might not actually appeal to all of the same readers (though I greatly like both). This is neither obviously supernatural fiction (though readers who’ve read the Elioud Legacy will pick up on something that others won’t) nor romance. But it should appeal to all fans of action adventure and espionage fiction, especially those who appreciate heroines in action roles (here, we’ve got not just one but three ladies who can and do kick some serious evil-doer butt!).

Author: Liane Zane
Publisher: Zephon; available through Amazon, both for Kindle and as a print book.
A version of this review previously appeared on Goodreads.

Griselda

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★★★★
“Calor blanco”

This is far from the first time we’ve covered films, series or documentaries about Griselda Blanco, the drug boss who ruled Miami with a lead fist in the eighties. There was Colombia narconovela La Viuda Negra. Lifetime TVM Cocaine Godmother, starring the not exactly Colombian, Catherine Zeta-Jones. And there was factual retelling, Queen of Cocaine. Now, we get the highest-profile version, made by Netflix and starring probably Colombia’s best-known actress. Albeit best-known for her role in long-running sitcom, Modern Family. We saw her here previously in the underwhelming Hot Pursuit, but this is a very different kettle of fish. Concern was understandable. Would she be up to the dramatic lifting required for such a heavy and complex role?

Yes. That’s the short answer. She does a fine job of depicting a character whose defining trait, in this rendition, is single-minded determination. It’s an aspect apparent from the start, where she flees her abusive husband in Medellin. Griselda arrives in Miami with her three kids, and little more than the clothes on her back. Oh, and the kilo of top-shelf cocaine, swiped from her spouse. Through sheer refusal to take no for an answer, she finds a buyer and convinces him to give her a shot [she meets him in Miami’s Mutiny club – Chris was actually a member there back in the day!]. When he stiffs her, she reels in a Colombian supplier, convinces him to front her 100 kilos, then creates her own market and network of dealers.

It’s kinda inspiring, weirdly. Early on, the series can be seen a twisted version of the American dream, where an immigrant can come to America, pull themselves up by their bootstraps, and anyone can achieve success if they work hard. The reality is, Blanco didn’t arrive in Miami seeking asylum from domestic abuse, but fleeing increased law-enforcement heat for drug trafficking in New York. Not exactly what Vergara described the show as, depicting “How beyond all odds, a poor uneducated woman from Colombia managed to create a massive, multi-billion dollar empire in a male-dominated industry, in a country that was not her own.” You go, #girlboss! #slay!

Often literally. For her chosen profession here is thoroughly illegal, and the hard work involves ordering brutal violence against your rivals and enemies. This might be a cause for concern. But who are we to quibble? The makers have said they didn’t want to make a hero(ine) out of her. Neither did Brian de Palma, and yet, you can buy Scarface T-shirts. The market decides for you, and the way it depicts the violence for which Blanco is responsible seems more like an attempt at plausible deniability. It’s the usual double standard of Hollywood: making disapproving noises, while also depicting Griselda strutting glamourously out of the Mutiny, blood spattered on her cheek from a recent victim. 

Griselda has a strict zero-tolerance for anyone who thinks she is a soft mark because she’s a woman. Especially in the early part of her career, was quite willing to wield a baseball bat or gun to that end. Later on… well, she had people for that sort of thing. But as we head into the second half, things get progressively darker. Griselda starts to become paranoid, suspecting the people around her – an attitude not helped by her taste for smoking crack. She believes there’s an informant in her circle, and takes brutal action against those who she thinksit might be. Things peak at a birthday party for Dario (Guerra), her third husband. It ends in Griselda letting loose with her gold-plated MAC-10 (top).

The irony is, there’s no informant: just good police work. For on the other side of the law, the series gives us June Hawkins (Martinez, bottom), intelligence analyst and detective in the local police force. She was also a real person, one who played a significant role in the pursuit and capture of Griselda, being one of the first to realize a woman had taken over the drug trade in Miami. I suspect her role was likely inflated somewhat, in order to act as a counterpoint to her target: co-creator Doug Miro admitted about the character, “There’s a fair amount of artistic license.” That applies to the whole series, though I’m not inclined to complain.

It is a fairly straightforward rise-and-fall, charting first Griselda’s path up to the top, when she was earning $80 million per month. This is followed by the slow but likely inevitable collapse, as her business rivals and law enforcement catch up with her. We know how the story eventually ends – in a pool of blood outside a Medellin butcher’s shop. The series doesn’t bother going all the way to the end. It finishes with Blanco released from jail, sitting on the beach. But it’s not a happy ending, having just been told that she has lost almost everything for which she worked: three of her four sons have been murdered. Conventional morality wins out in the end.

In terms of production value, this is definitely several slices above the other efforts, even if Los Angeles stood in entirely for Miami (the latter no longer resembling what it was at the time). Of particular note is the make-up work on Vergara. It must have been a challenge, because events unfold over a significant number of years: your lead is, obviously, more or less fixed at a point in time. Initially, there’s little of note, but it gradually builds up, in a way that’s so subtle you might not notice. Until, by the end, you suddenly realize the character no longer looks like the actress. Though still rather prettier than the real Griselda.

I highly doubt this will end up being the final or even the definitive version of the Griselda Blanco story. The last surviving son, Michael Corleone, filed suit against Netflix, and reports indicate he has his own version of the family story he would like to tell. For now, however, this is the best adaptation of her life. If obviously skewed towards a questionable message of feminist “empowerment” which the makers wanted to send, Vargas’s strong performance holds the strands together and makes for a captivating experience. 

Dir: Andrés Baiz
Star: Sofía Vergara, Alberto Guerra, Martin Rodriguez, Juliana Aidén Martinez