Tag: seal of approval

Alita: Battle Angel

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★★★★
“Mechanical Pixie Dream Girl.”

Depending on your definition, this is perhaps the most expensive action-heroine film of all time, estimated at more than $200 million before tax incentives. Given the fate of live-action adaptations of manga in the West, most recently Ghost in the Shell, this was always going to be a risky investment, even with the name of James Cameron, the most successful movie-maker in history, attached as a producer. At one point, people were predicting a bomb of Mortal Engines size. While Alita seems to have escaped that fate, it’s going to have to do very well in both China and Japan, the two remaining territories, if it’s to turn any kind of profit, never mind start a franchise.

That’s a shame, because this is a solid, well-made piece of science-fiction, which does a particularly good job of creating a massive, epic world on the cinema screen. Rodriguez has been squeezing every penny out of his budgets since El Mariachi, and while there may not be much apparent overlap between Alita with Shark Boy and Lava Girl, the latter franchise was excellent training for RR in meshing computer graphics with actors. Sin City also laid similar groundwork, and helped set up the director with the chance to go big or go home. And there’s no doubt: Rodriguez went big. This was my first cinema trip of 2019, and was fully justified.

Having recently read the original manga, I was struck by how faithful the film was to most aspects. Right from the get-go, with Doc Ido (Waltz) finding the shattered remains of Alita (Salazar) on the scrap-heap below Zalem, there were shots which could have been story-boarded by the graphic novel. [Again, something Rodriguez also did in Sin City] Ido, in particular, looks exactly like I imagined him, and the same goes for Vector (Mahershala Ali), the shady power behind the scenes in Iron City, as well as Zapan and the rest of the bounty hunters.

The story is generally quite faithful, too. After her rescue, Alita tries to recover her past memories, becomes a bounty-hunter, falls in love with human boy Hugo (Johnson), takes up the brutal sport of Motorball, and experiences personal tragedy. However, the order of the events is shifted: in the manga, the tragedy is what spurs her entry into the Motorball arena. The film also adds Ido’s ex-wife, Chiren (Connolly), a character who was not in the comics, though does appear in the OVA. Here, they had a disabled daughter named Alita, who was killed by one of Ido’s Motorball goons. It’s a rather clunky subplot, which doesn’t add particularly much, beyond explaining from where Alita v2.0’s body came.

There has been much debate over Alita’s eyes, which have been CGI-increased in size to an extent rarely if ever seen in a live-action film. Of course, she’s a cyborg, so whatever. However, it is still something of a distraction, even though it appears they’ve been toned-down in size from early trailers, where it appeared her eyeballs would have occupied most of her brain’s frontal lobe. The eyes are one of the hardest things to get right with computer graphics, and when it isn’t, the results can be horrible, as with the resurrected Peter Cushing in Rogue One. This is better, and at some moments does enhance things, basically acting as a megaphone for Alita’s feelings. However, it also plays into the film’s main weakness: an apparent lack of genuine emotion. I’ll circle back to that a bit later.

As a spectacle, this is grand, offering sweeping vistas of a future world, densely populated with people, things and those in between. As an action movie, it works pretty well too. The two best set-pieces are the bar-brawl where newly-registered bounty hunter Alita proves her worth to her colleagues, and the Motorball game, where everyone else taking part cares only about killing Alita. There’s a palpable sense of progression in her skills over the course of the film. Initially, she’s clearly raw and unfocused, but after she is paired with her “berserker” body… [Inevitably, it has been the subject of PC whining, about it looking ‘too feminine’] Hoo-boy. By the end, she’s a weapon on mass destruction, regardless of the opponent’s size.

And speaking of the end, one frequently-heard bit of criticism is that the ending is too “open,” apparently fishing for a sequel. I can’t say I felt that way at all. There’s certainly scope for more movies, apparently involving Alita going after the mysterious Nova. Yet the main thread of the film, involving Alita and Hugo, is definitively wrapped up. In comparison, say, to Marvel films, which almost inevitably have an in- or post-credit sequence blatantly signposting the next film, this felt conclusive. While there is perhaps need for a greater sense of escalation, or a bigger climax (that Motorball battle is trivial in its consequences), I’m largely baffled by complaints about the “lack of a genuine ending.”

As mentioned above, a more significant issue is that I hardly “felt” anything for any of the characters. Ido – stuck between paternal instincts of protection and a desire to allow Alita self-determination – perhaps came the closest. The relationship between Alita and Hugo is supposed to provide the film’s emotional engine. But between the former’s CGI make-up and the latter’s generic blandness, it doesn’t make much of a dent. There’s a scene where she literally tears out her heart and gives it to him: everyone, including the film itself, seems faintly embarrassed by the whole incident. Worse still – minor spoiler – the movie even goes so far as to kill a dog, without generating more than a blip of impact. Somewhere, John Wick shakes his head, sadly.

I was initially concerned about the PG-13 rating – not least because the first trailer before the film was for UglyDolls [an animated movie “about acceptance, diversity, joy and friendship” according to its site]. I needn’t have been: this is more From Dusk Till Dawn Robert Rodriguez than the Spy Kids version, with a gleeful approach to the semi-mechanized carnage. For I think it helps on the censorship front, that most of the carnage in inflicted on cyborgs, who are largely able to take a licking and keep on ticking. The manga was heavily into black market spine-ripping; here, it’s mostly limbs, which is slightly more kid-friendly, I guess.

In the end, this is just about everything for which I could have hoped. While I don’t necessarily agree with all of the artistic choices, the positives greatly outweigh the weaknesses. Although this is a low bar (hello, Speed Racer), it’s certainly the best manga/anime adaptation to come out of Hollywood. It’s a world I’d love to see explored further: whether Rodriguez and crew get the chance to do so or not, will remain in doubt until the final box-office figures arrive. Fingers crossed.

Dir: Robert Rodriguez
Star: Rosa Salazar, Christoph Waltz, Keean Johnson, Jennifer Connelly

Raazi

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★★★★
“The Spy Who Loved Me”

This Indian spy thriller manages to be both remarkably restrained and human, avoiding a potentially jingoistic approach, and going for something considerably more measured. It takes place just before the war between India and Pakistan in 1971, when Indian agent Hidayat Khan is pretending to give information to Pakistan. In order to get close to their top brass, he convinces his daughter, Sehmat (Bhatt), to enter an arranged marriage to Iqbal Syed (Ahlawat), an officer whose father (Sharma) is a Brigadier in the Pakistani army. After being trained by senior intelligence officer Khalid Mir (Kaushal), she goes to join her new husband, and begins operations as a spy inside the Brigadier’s household.

From there, it’s a series of tense incidents, with a servant becoming increasingly suspicious of Sehmat, but her also falling for Iqbal, and realizing that the enemy are not so different. These conflicting loyalties create emotional carnage, not least when she has to kill multiple people in order to protect her mission. [One of whom is killed using an umbrella laden with a ricin pellet, which is odd, since this was seven years before the KGB used exactly this method to assassinate a dissident, Georgi Markov] She does succeed in sending back vital information to Mir, but he has great difficulty in getting the Indian military to take the data seriously, being uncorroborated evidence from a rookie agent. When the Pakistanis start rolling up Sehmat’s local support cell, it becomes a race against time to extract her before she is caught in the net.

What I particularly liked about this was Sehmat’s “ordinariness”: she has no amazing abilities or combat skills. She is brave, smart and very committed, yet far from immune to the hellish toll a mission like this takes, especially on the psyche of someone thoroughly unprepared for it. The film does a much better job of depicting this than, say, Red Sparrow, in particular with an ending which is genuinely poignant, and a far cry from the black and white depiction which I was expecting. There’s as much ground to criticize the Indian side – not least for their cynical exploitation of a young girl’s desire to satisfy the wishes of her father – as the Pakistani one.

This was one of the highest-grossing Bollywood movies with a female lead ever, trailing only romantic comedy sequel Tanu Weds Manu Returns, and it’s easy to understand why. About the only misstep I can think of, was giving Sehmat’s father lung cancer, as if relying on her daughter’s sense of filial obligation and patriotism wasn’t sufficient moral blackmail. It’s a sloppy and unnecessary bit of early melodrama, whose lack of subtlety is severely at odds with the rest of the film. In a world where most spy movies treat death as a throwaway trifle, this goes a long way to remind us that the taking of another human’s life is absolutely not a trivial matter, regardless of the reason.

Dir: Meghna Gulzar
Star: Alia Bhatt, Jaideep Ahlawat, Vicky Kaushal, Shishir Sharma

Prodigy

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★★★★
“Hannibal Lecter’s kid sister, crossed with Carrie”

This small-scale production – a cast of little more than half a dozen, and one location, not counting the park scenes which bookend it – packs a wallop significantly above its weight. Psychiatrist Jimmy Fonda (Neil) is brought into a military facility by an old friend, Olivia (Andersen), to interview a young girl, Ellie (Liles), who is being held there. To avoid pre-judging her case, Fonda deliberately avoids reading the documentation about her with which he has been provided. But the stringent security precautions (“In the event the subject escapes the restraints, drop to the floor and cover your head”) under which she’s held, should give him a clue that this is far from a normal nine-year-old. If it didn’t, the conversation with her which follows certainly does.

For Ellie is incredibly bright, and completely sociopathic. Turns out she killed her mother, and also possesses freakish paranormal talents of telekinesis, which is why she’s locked up in this military facility. However, her wilful rejection of all authority has led those in charge – Colonel Birch (Palame) in particular – to the conclusion that euthanasia is the only option available, given the threat she poses. Olivia, who still believes in Ellie’s humanity, called in Fonda as a last hurrah to prove the young girl is salvageable before she is put down. Ellie, however, is having none of it, and seems intent on embracing her fate. Is this just a facade, or is she as incorrigibly dangerous as the authorities believe?

With such a low-key approach, a lot is riding on the performances of the two leads, and both Neil and Liles hit it out of the park. For a film which, for the great majority of the time, is nothing more than two people talking to each other, it’s remarkably engrossing to watch the two fencing for intellectual dominance. The chess game which they play is perhaps rather too obvious a metaphor for what’s going on here, yet it remains fascinating throughout. Even the slightly stilted and artificial nature of Liles’s performance – par for the course in almost any actor of her age – works for the character, because we’re unsure to what extent Ellie is, indeed, delivering a part she has decided to play.

The effects are generally similarly low-key, but used effectively to enhance things, from the first glimpse we get of Ellie’s powers through to the higher-tier unleashing of them. You could argue that the end is predictable; however, the way the set-up is constructed, there are really only two ways this can logically end. Either Fonda succeeds. or he doesn’t. Your mileage may vary as to which you think is more plausible, and whether or not the film-makers agree with you. I’ll confess we differed in our opinions, yet the journey there was still more than entertaining enough to allow me to shake hands and part on very good terms with the film.

Dir: Alex Haughey, Brian Vidal, Nathan Leon
Star: Richard Neil, Savannah Liles, Jolene Andersen, Emilio Palame

Molly

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★★★★
“Dutch treat”

Up to a certain point (which I’ll get to in a bit), this low-budget post-apocalypse picture from the Netherlands has been solid if unspectacular. The limited resources have shown themselves in a world which almost entirely consists of running about sand dunes and light forest. The fight scenes have been grubbily realistic rather than impressive, with the kind of amateur flailing around with limited weaponry you’d probably actually see after armageddon has actually taken place. And the main focus of the plot has been the usual warlord type, Deacon (Bolt) who turns people into “supplicants” – drug-crazed pit-fighters for his personal amusement. Standard practice for a post-apocalyptic leader, really.

The main point of note is the titular heroine (Batelaan), who runs – entirely deliberately, I suspect – counter to expectations of what such a woman would be like. Molly is a scrawny teenage red-head, almost helpless without her glasses, and as noted above, hardly skilled in the martial arts – Imperator Furiosa, she is not, shall we say. She does have some assets: she’s not bad with a bow and arrow, and has a pet hawk. Most significantly, she has some kind of psychic abilities, that tend to come out when she’s upset. It’s these which bring her to the attention of Deacon, and to ensure she complies with his interests, the warlord kidnaps Bailey (de Paauw), the kid whom Molly has just befriended.

Which brings us to where this goes from “Not bad, works within its limits quite nicely, though not exactly original” to “This one’s a keeper”. Because Molly storms the off-shore stronghold where Deacon is keeping Bailey. In one 30-minute take. Okay, it’s clearly as much “one take” as Hitchcock’s Rope was – you can spot any number of moments where cuts have taken place. Yet, even attempting to put something like this together is extraordinarily ambitious for any low-budget film, and that the result works as well as it does, is simply amazing. The segments pitting Molly against Deacon’s lieutenant, Kimmy (Appelhof) and her mechanically-enhanced arm, are particularly well-done.

Some of the earlier scenes are shot similarly and work as appetizers; yet about eight minutes into the grand finale, I still suddenly went, “Hang on. When was the last cut?” If you’re like me, you’ll immediately be rewinding to watch it from the beginning. Elsewhere, the film is helped by crisp cinematography and an effective soundtrack, which sounds bigger budget than the movie. Perhaps wisely, the directors keep Batelaan’s performance largely driven by her actions rather than her dialogue. She fares considerably better than Bolt in this regard, and the ending is almost painfully abrupt.

All told though, and despite the over-familiarity of some aspects, the elements that are new and refreshing are really new and refreshing, from the non-fighting through to the awkwardness of the heroine. However, it’s the glorious mess of her final battle, which will stick in the mind of just about anyone who watches this. The trailer won’t prepare you for that level of awesomeness.

Dir: Colinda Bongers and Thijs Meuwese
Star: Julia Batelaan, Joos Bolt, Emma de Paauw, Annelies Appelhof

Battle Angel Alita, by Yukito Kishiro

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

I used to read a lot of comics and graphic novels. But when I moved from London to Arizona in 2000, I all but stopped. There are still boxes in our basement, unopened since then, filled with my comic collection. Rare have been the forays into that culture since, beyond the occasional volume of Dirty Pair, for review purposes. Certainly, nothing as extended as deciding to re-read this in advance of the anticipated release of Robert Rodriguez’s live-action movie. Initially, I feared I had bitten off more than I could chew, when I realized the nine-volume series was a total of over two thousand pages of content. Maybe I should have started reading it before mid-October?

In the end, the release date for the movie got pushed into next year, and I blitzed through the comics at about a volume per day, in virtually my usual reading time. I’d forgotten how pacy comic reading can be: if there’s no dialogue, you scan the panels quickly. It’s not as if you stop and admire them, or worry about what exactly is being portrayed. The intent is almost for the visual aspect to go from the page into your subconscious, so you get a visceral “feel” for what’s happening. That’s especially true for something as heavily action-oriented as this, and Kishiro has an amazing flair for it (not least in the area of sound effects!). If you look at an individual frame, you might not know what’s happening; yet put them together, and almost magically, it becomes a coherent flow.

However, there’s still an amazing amount going on in terms of story-line and universe-building. You can easily see how the feature film will only be able to cover perhaps one-quarter of the series. I presume it will begin with the origin story, in which Ido finds the head of Alita in the scrapyard beneath the floating city of Tiphares, and gives it a cybernetic body. He’s a part-time bounty hunter, only to find out quickly, the combat abilities of his new charge far surpass his own. Unfortunately, she has little or no memory of her prior life; where she got these skills and how she ended up in the scrapyard is only revealed well into the series.

The second volume has her both falling in love, and discovering the pain which love can bring. She is smitten by Hugo, another young orphan of the scrapyard, who is working hard – albeit in some very dubious ways – to raise enough funds to buy a ticket up to Tiphares. When he discovers the truth about his situation, he cracks – and a bounty is placed on his head. The end result is romantic tragedy of a high order, and also drives Alita away from Ido. That brings her into the middle arc: motorball, a superviolent pastime popular among the scrapyard inhabitants. This occupies the third and fourth volumes: Alita climbs the sport’s ladder towards the elite players, and ends up facing off against its brutal champion, Jashugan. It appears this is roughly the arcs which will be covered in the film version, though I’m not sure how far they’ll get into the motorball thread.

The second half sees Alita head into the wastelands, in search of Desty Nova, like Ido another Tipharen exile. She has become an agent working on behalf of the floating city, and against the rebel group of Barjack, which is intent on (literally) taking down Tiphares. While this gives her access to help from above, the flow of data goes both ways: if one Alita is good, wouldn’t a dozen of them be better? Through Nova, she discovers the gruesome truth about the citizens of Tiphares, and her convenient amnesia is also cured, with Alita remembering where she came from, as well as finding out the history which led to the current situation on Earth. She’s left to make the ultimate choice: whether to destroy Tiphares or save it.

It having been more than two decades since I last read this, I’d forgotten almost all the details, so the twists and turns proved highly effective once more. There were several moments where I had to put the book down and just absorb what I’d been told, and Kishiro is good at telling the reader the essential information efficiently. However, it’s the action sequences throughout where he really shines, whether it’s the motorball contests, or the escalating series of battles in which Alita finds herself involved. For no matter how powerful she may become, there’s always someone bigger and badder – likely culminating in Den, leader of the Barjack rebels. Imagine a pissed-off half-horse, half-Transformer. Yeah, he’s like that.

While they certainly would not be cheap, there’s enough material here for a whole franchise of live-action movies, if the first one is a success (fingers crossed, though I’m not optimistic it’ll take in the half-billion or more needed for it to turn a profit). I’m really looking forward to seeing what Robert Rodriguez can do with the adaptation, on the largest cinema screen I can find. Hopefully his vision of Tiphares, the scrapyard and Alita is able to live up to the impressive world created by Kishiro.

Author: Yukito Kishiro
Publisher: VIZ Media LLC, available through Amazon, both as a paperback and an e-book

Battle Angel Alita, Volume 1
Battle Angel Alita, Volume 2
Battle Angel Alita, Volume 3
Battle Angel Alita, Volume 4
Battle Angel Alita, Volume 5
Battle Angel Alita, Volume 6
Battle Angel Alita, Volume 7
Battle Angel Alita, Volume 8
Battle Angel Alita, Volume 9

Spies

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★★★★
“Red spies delight.”

I stumbled across this Russian TV series on Amazon Prime during our annual freebie month, but not until the final weekend, so wasn’t able to watch it there. Happily, I discovered the entire show has been uploaded to YouTube – embedded below, complete with English subtitles – and it’s well worth a watch. It’s set during World War II, and tells the story of two young women, from diverging backgrounds, both of whom are recruited in 1941, somewhat unwillingly. to act as intelligence operatives, during the early day

The first is Arina Prozorovskaya (Ivanova), a party girl – as in Communist Party, being a true believer whose idealism is tested after her father is accused of activities against the state. Then there’s Zoya Velichko (Ustinova), a criminal who is Nikita‘d out of prison by the spy group’s commander, Major Egorievich Vorotynnikov (Vdovichenkov). Adding to the tension between them: Zoya was involved in a robbery that went wrong, leading to the death of Arina’s mother at the hands of Zoya’s then-boyfriend. The pair end up being the top students in the class, even though training is cut short due to the German invasion. When Vorotynnikov needs two women for a mission, it’s therefore Arina and Zoya who are dispatched to risk everything, on the first of a number of dangerous jobs behind enemy lines.

Once we got past a weirdness about its presentation (we’ll get to this in a moment), both Chris and I thoroughly enjoyed this. The two Svetlanas make their heroines multi-faceted characters, who have fascinating arcs over the dozen 50-minute episodes. Arina becomes far more cynical, largely due to the treatment she and her husband, a member of the Red Army, suffer at the hands of authorities. Conversely, Zoya’s hard exterior, where the only person that matters is her young daughter, gradually softens. She falls for Vorotynnikov’s deputy, Captain Nikolay Petrov (Pronin) – really the first person to have shown genuine affection in her adult life – which helps her become a strong, loyal and fearless agent. Credit is also due to a solid supporting cast:  Vdovichenkov is outstanding as a man forced to navigate between his loyalty to the state and to those under his command, as well as Irina Apeksimova in the role of spy teacher Matilda, a role apparently influenced by Jeanne Moreau’s in Nikita.

It is a little fragmented in the early going, and not initially clear where the focus of the show will lie. However, once it settles on Arina and Zoya, it gets into a very good rhythm. Each mission takes place over a couple of episodes, allowing them to develop without feeling rushed. They’re varied enough to avoid repetition, showcasing different facets of espionage, from reconnaissance and infiltration, through to Arina becoming a “red sparrow”, and having to overcome qualms about being faithful to her husband.  There’s a sense of danger almost every moment (enhanced by my experience of Russian novels, where everyone usually dies tragically!).

This is most apparent in an episode where Zoya helps a badly-injured Petrov through a forest, only for a dramatic reversal at the end, which ranks among the most impactful “bait and switches” in our TV viewing history. This is just one of the memorable moments that will stick in our mind. Another is Arina’s “honey-pot” target, who initially seems decent enough… until he describes to her an incident where his Luftwaffe squadron attacked a civilian target, killing Russian women and children, after he over-rode the objections of his men. The expressions that flicker across Arina’s face as he tells the story, and she is clearly struggling to suppress the urge to stab him repeatedly on her throat, are quite awesome.

In the YouTube version at least (I can’t speak for the Amazon Prime edition), there is an oddity whenever characters speak any language but Russian – mostly German, as in the scene mentioned above. As well as the English subs, that dialogue is also over-dubbed into Russian, and all characters, male or female, get the same male voice. While I believe this is standard practice in that country, it takes a bit of getting used to, especially when it’s two women who are conversing! However, it certainly didn’t significantly interfere with our entertainment.

By the end, Chris and I were completely engrossed and on the edge of our seats as to whether Arina and Zoya would make it out alive. I won’t spoil that, though have to say we felt it was entirely appropriate, and left us emotionally satisfied. If this is in any way typical of Russian television, we’ll have to see what other hidden gems might be out there for us to find.

Dir: Felix Gertskhikov
Star: Svetlana Ivanova, Svetlana Ustinova, Vladimir Vdovichenkov, Evgeny Pronin
a.k.a. Разведчицы

Killing Eve: Season One

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★★★★
“You should never call a psychopath a psychopath. It upsets them.”

A genuinely organic hit on BBC America, this generated so much word of mouth that the ratings for this show behaved in an unexpected fashion. Including those who DVR’d the show, viewership increased for each episode over its 8-week run. That’s a rare feat these days, and is testament to the show’s unique qualities. So confident were the station in the show, that is was renewed for a second season before it had even premiered – another unusual achievement. But then, this show is arguably unlike anything else on television.

The heroine is Eve Polastri (Oh), an officer in the British intelligence service, MI-5, who believes there’s a connection between a string of assassinations across Europe. She’s right: they were all carried out be Oksana Astankova (Comer), codename “Villanelle”. Oksana is a pure, undiluted psychopath, working for a shadowy Russian organization known as “The Twelve”, under handler Konstantin Vasiliev (Bodnia). Polastri’s career is apparently ended when a witness to one of Oksana’s hits is killed in her care, and she’s fired from MI-5. However, this allows her to be recruited by Carolyn Martens (Shaw) for a off-book investigation into Villanelle.

Eve is therefore able to continue digging into Oksana’s history and activities, but the target becomes aware of the interest – signalling that knowledge by using “Eve Polastri” for her identity during a job. From here, it’s a spiral of increasingly intense cat-and-mouse, with Eve and her team tracking the assassin, while also being hunted by her. It all grows deeply personal for both Eve and Oksana, the two women developing a perverse long-distance relationship that’s more of a fixation, on both sides. Note: I’m not using “perverse” in relation to the homoerotic elements. It’s just… really bizarre. As in, “Villanelle breaking into Eve’s house, in order to have dinner with her” strange.

The show is defiantly messy in terms of its characters, who manage both to embody the stereotypes of the dogged law-enforcement official and the slick, femme fatale, while also subverting them. From the viewpoint of this site, Oksana is likely the more interesting. As a high concept, imagine a female version of Dexter: charming and affable on the surface, yet extraordinary lethal – and capable of flicking that switch in a moment. The difference is, Villanelle has chosen not to control and direct her “dark passenger” so much as embrace them fully, and is given the chance to do so by the profession into which she is recruited. It also allows her to indulge her fondness for haute couture.

She enjoys her work, to an almost scary degree, disdaining the simplest and most directly effective methods, too. That’d be boring, especially for such a free spirit. Why shoot, when you can kill your target by stabbing them in the eye with a hatpin instead? On the other hand, she is also incredibly manipulative. Oksana may not be able to feel any genuine emotions of her own, yet she’s supremely good at faking them, and will happily say what you want to hear, if she thinks it’ll let her use you for her own advantage. Her handler doesn’t so much control the incredibly self-confident Villanelle as unleash her in the direction of the intended target. Who inevitably ends up dead… just not necessarily quite as he would prefer.

The contrast to Eve could hardly be greater, and that perhaps goes some way to explaining the agent’s obsession: Oksana is everything Eve wants to be. Okay, except for the “psychopathic killer” bit. But that’s just a detail, right? For Eve is stuck in a rather tedious relationship, and works a job where her talents are under-used and even less appreciated. The more she learns about her target, the greater the appeal seems to be, and it works both ways: Villanelle wants “someone to watch movies with”. Or says she does anyway: this could just be another manipulative ploy, it’s impossible to be sure. Espionage, counter-espionage and assassination is a murky world at the best of times. Here? You can’t see the murk for the deceit, and at times the lies become a bit overwhelming.

After a long career expressing earnest concern on medical soap Grey’s Anatomy, Oh’s career has undergone a spectacular sea-change of late. First, there was the awesome Catfight, and now this, little if any less successful, which allows Oh to show her remarkable range of expressive… er, expressions [Seriously: you could spend an entire episode just watching her face, to the exclusion of everything else, and still be entranced]. Comer is nowhere near as well-known, but I doubt we’ll see a more memorable female character on television this year than Oksana, combining childish innocence, girlish glee and savage psychopathy. When it comes to Emmy time, it will be a travesty if at least one of them is not nominated – and ideally both. The supporting cast are no slouches either.

I will confess to being less than whelmed by the final episode which, rather than ramping up, petered out into something approaching a slumber party. Admittedly, it’s a very weird one, befitting the show, and sees Eve violate Oksana’s personal bubble of living space, partly in retaliation for the same thing happening to her earlier. But it offers no sense at all of closure: this may be a side-effect of the show having been pre-renewed. I guess there’s no point making any effort to wrap things up, when you know you’re going to be back.

Still, for 7½ episodes, this was far and away the best thing on American TV at the moment. To get one of these amazing characters in a show would have been more than acceptable. Having both in the same series provides a one-two punch of heroine and anti-heroine that’s almost unsurpassed in television history. Buffy and Faith, or Xena and Callisto, perhaps come close – although they were only story arcs. Here, Eve and Oksana are a pure, undiluted focus, and it’s glorious. The second season can’t get here soon enough.

Creator: Phoebe Waller-Bridge
Star: Sandra Oh, Jodie Comer, Fiona Shaw, Kim Bodnia

Revenge

  By

★★★★½
“Women always have to put up a fucking fight.”

This French rape-revenge movie is the most blood-drenched GWG film I’ve seen since Kill Bill, Volume 1, and is not for the faint of heart. However, the good news is, it’s not the rape part of the equation which is hard to watch: this is depicted with admirable restraint, occurring mostly off-camera. The director has stressed that the story isn’t about the rape, and I’m delighted with that: it has always struck me as the least interesting element. It’s a plot device, to kick-off what matters. Focusing on it, as some films have done, seems to me like focusing on turning the ignition key, instead of driving the car. This, instead, offers a road-trip to remember.

The victim is Jen (Lutz), a young girl having a weekend in the Moroccan desert with her rich, married boyfriend, Richard (Janssens). He’s also there to do a spot of hunting with his pals, Stan and Dimitri (Colombe and Bouchède). They four have a night drinking and dancing, but the next morning, when Richard heads off to make travel arrangements, Stan rapes Jen. On Richard’s return, he tries to smooth things over. Jen is having none of it, and storms off. Knowing that any legal complaint would destroy his marriage, Richard fakes calling for transport out, then pushes Jen off a cliff. Her landing is… not a soft one. Convinced the problem is solved, the men leave disposing of the body until later. Except, Jen isn’t dead, and when the trio go back, she’s not there. Helped by some impressively strong peyote – in this case, the drugs clearly do work – she patches herself up, and turns the hunters into the hunted.

First, let me address the improbably-resilient elephant in the room. Yes, her survival and pursuit is implausible, with a couple of large holes. Literally: one of the film’s two highly cringe-inducing pieces of self-surgery shows Jen patching up a hole in her stomach. Yet there must, of necessity, be an even larger one in her back. What happened to that? To be honest, they didn’t need this aspect at all: simply surviving the fall would have been hardcore enough. She also goes barefoot through the entire film, without a whimper. In the Arizona summer, I can’t take the garbage out barefoot without leaving singed skin on the drive. One shot of her pulling the shoes off her first victim would have fixed that.

It’s a shame, albeit a minor one, because virtually everything else is perfect. The transition of Jen, from the stuff of Richard’s fantasies, to that of his nightmares – he’s the one who delivers the tagline above – is impeccably handled. Even her good looks transform. At the beginning, it’s a shallow and utterly conventional prettiness – which she has exploited into a weekend getaway to a luxury location. By the end, she has paid a terrible price for this. Yet even as she’s missing minor body parts, disfigured, drenched in blood (both hers and others) and covered in desert grime… she’s glowing. Her inner beauty shines through, increasingly illuminating the bad-ass bitch she has become over the course of proceedings.

For a film lauded for its supposed up-ending of the male gaze, this feels a bit odd, since it could be read as the sexual assault triggering Jen’s blossoming: rape as psychological therapy. She should thank her attackers! [The image of a rising phoenix branded into her skin, due to her impromptu first-aid, is not exactly subtle in its imagery. Then again, the entire film is not exactly subtle, and proudly defiant as such] If that reading is on shaky ground, it’s also amusing to note Revenge utterly fails the dreaded Bechdel Test, despite being brutally empowering, to a degree rarely seen. More evidence – as if it were really needed – of how shitty the Bechdel Test is at evaluating films.

The good thing is that the feature’s entertainment value in no way relies on any kind of Identity Politics 1.0.1. to work. It functions perfectly well as a stripped-down pursuit, which neither asks for, no offers, any kind of quarter on behalf of the participants – for their genders or any other reason. There’s a steady, relentless escalation to proceedings from the moment Jen takes flight, to a final confrontation which redefines “paint the walls blood-red”. That’s a jaw-dropping pursuit round the house where things began, and includes proof that cling film, like duct tape, has a thousand and one uses.

The director says the only previous example of the rape-revenge genre she watched was Wes Craven’s Last House on the Left. Though if true, the proximity of names for the heroine here and in the genre’s most infamous entry, I Spit On Your Grave, is a striking coincidence. That aside, it’s interesting to note that the only other female-directed entry, Baise-moi, was also from France. And in tone, this has almost as much in common with À l’interieur (Inside), which was just as blood-drenched, and similarly gave absolutely no fucks. Much credit to Fargeat for this “take no prisoners” attitude, and delivering a thoroughly uncompromising piece of cinema; kudos for all of her cast as well, in particular Lutz, who go all-in to no less a degree.

I’ve been watching extreme films for thirty years or so, and let’s be honest, you get a bit desensitized to it all. We went to see this one at a local art cinema, and from their reactions, it was clear that most of the audience were, let’s say, not as “experienced” in the ways of savage cinema as Chris and I. Their responses merely added to the fun: I’d kinda forgotten how audience reaction can enhance a film (their goddamn rustling of snacks… not so much, but let’s move rapidly on). At the end, after all was said and done, one of the other attendees blurted out loud, “Best ten bucks I’ve ever spent.” I’m not inclined to disagree. Despite its flaws – which I acknowledge and embrace – if 2018 offers a film which packs a bigger punch, I can’t wait to see it.

Dir: Coralie Fargeat
Star: Matilda Lutz, Kevin Janssens, Vincent Colombe, Guillaume Bouchède

Nightblade: A Book of Underrealm by Garrett Robinson

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

One of the common problems I’ve found with fantasy novels is establishing the universe. It’s clearly going to be very different from the reader’s, and the author needs to get them up to speed on how things work in the book’s setting. If this isn’t done quickly and effectively, the reader can be left floundering in a world they know nothing about. Robinson uses a neat trick to get around this. His heroine, Loren, basically knows nothing about it either, because she has been brought up in a remote rural area. Virtually all she knows about life outside the woods comes from tales told to her by an itinerant tinker, and her dreams of becoming a heroic thief seem no more than fantasies.

That all changes when she encounters a fugitive, Xian the mage. Fed up with her life – and given the severely abusive parents, it’s hard to blame her – she throws her lot in with him. That’s how everything starts: as she discovers the world around her has a lot more to offer than household drudgery and arranged marriages, so do we. She has a couple of advantages over the usual runaway: she’s “country strong” having been brought up to hunt, providing her with a skill-set which will putt her in good stead to hold her own in a more urban environment. And on her departure, she takes a dagger, a family heirloom of sorts, which for some reason, strikes fear into the subset of those she encounters, who recognize it.

Loren is, perhaps, a little too well-prepared occasionally: while I can see how running and climbing trees would translate into parkour-like city skills, her adeptness at picking locks was a little eyebrow-raising. However, this ia a relatively minor issue, and more than outweighed by the strengths of Robinson’s writing. He draws a world which is easy to imagine in your mind’s eye, populated by a range of memorable characters. I appreciated the almost total lack of the near-compulsory romantic angles, and that Loren is far from the only strong woman to be found in these pages. Already, we have met Auntie, the shape-shifting mage who runs the underworld in the city of Cabrus, and Damaris, a scarily well-connected smuggler who helps Loren, yet appears to have her own agenda.

As the introductory book to a six-volume series, there is rather less than a complete story told here, though neither is there one of those oh-so annoying cliffhangers. There are instead questions, which will presumably be answered down the road. Where did Loren’s blade come from? What is its significance? What about the mysterious gems Damaris is smuggling? And who is Jordel, the man who is also after Xian, yet seems to keep encountering and assisting our heroine? I was left feeling fulfilled by what I had read, yet also wanting more, and that’s a combination which is not as frequently found as you’d expect.

Author: Garrett Robinson
Publisher: Legacy Books, available through Amazon, both as an e-book and a paperback
Book 1 of 6 in The Nightblade Epic series.

A Demon Bound, by Debra Dunbar

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

While the cover image is certainly striking, I should mention that it is inaccurate in one significant point. At no point do I recall the heroine ever wielding a gun. While such false advertising would normally be a sore point, in this particular case, we’ll give them a pass – since the reason she doesn’t, is because she is simply too bad-ass to need one. For Samantha Martin is an imp: a demon who has chosen to spend a chunk of her substantial life-span (measured in centuries) among us mortals, rather than in the underworld. Why? Largely because it’s more fun up here.

Who needs guns, when like Sam, you possess a broad range of powers, including regeneration, transformation and the ability to manipulate energy? However, she has to be very, very careful about their use, because her kind is not supposed to be prowling the Earth at all. To prevent this, angels are continually monitoring for signs that indicate demonic abilities, and enforce the prohibition with extreme prejudice. A large, glowing sword may be involved. So, Samantha keeps her talents in check and manages her property business, or hangs out by the pool, generally keeping a low profile.

Things are rudely interrupted, however, when her hellhound returns home, much the worse for wear. Turns out he had got into a fight with a werewolf living on a nearby farm, whom Sam ends up having to kill. The local lycanthropes are not happy about this, and demand a service from her as reparation. Turns out a rogue angel, Althean, has been carrying out a one-man program of genocide against the werewolves, and they need someone to stop him. Unfortunately, Sam’s efforts bring her to the attention of Gregory, the angels’ chief enforcer on Earth, who is also on Althean’s trail – but is none too happy to discover Sam’s presence.

This was a tremendous amount of fun to read, mostly because of the heroine, who is unorthodox, to put it mildly. Foul-mouthed and unrepentantly immoral, Sam is a big fan of both sex and violence, largely bemused by human notions such as loyalty and affection, and treats our species as an amusing plaything, put on Earth for her enjoyment. Yet, over the course of the book, it appears there’s more to her than this. The fact she prefers Earth to Hell is just one of the various hidden depths which emerge, and we get to learn about the back-story of this struggle – not least that the angels and demons are not as far apart as either might prefer to think.

While Sam is clearly the book’s core, with it all being told from her first-person perspective, I also enjoyed Gregory and his conflicts. He has issues of his own, with some among his kind endorsing Althean’s murderous mission, as they believe werewolves to be Nephilim, the offspring of angels with humans, and deserving of extermination. It’s all surprisingly complicated, and I’m highly curious as to where the series goes. Credit Dunbar too, for telling a complete and well-rounded story here, albeit with an epilogue to leave the reader intrigued.

This is comfortably R-rated, since Sam has absolutely no problem with using violence, though most of it is against other supernatural entities. Not out of any moral scruples, however, just because we humans aren’t worth the effort! I’d love to see this made into a movie, though given her fondness for nudity – partly for practical reasons resulting from energy transmutation, partly to wind up the more prudish members of society – it would require a particularly broad-minded leading lady. In the meantime, I’ll certainly be investing in further installments of the Imp Series, of which this is the first volume.

Author: Debra Dunbar
Publisher: Inked Entertainment, available through Amazon in both printed and e-book versions.