Tag: w

Women Rescuers of WWII, by Elise Baker

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Literary rating: ★★
Kick-butt quotient: ☆

With the somewhat accurate and rather clunky sub-title of “True stories of the unsung women heroes who rescued refugees and Allied servicemen in WWII”, this is a book whose idea I liked rather more than the execution. The core is six chapters, each devoted to a woman or pair of women, who operated before and around World War II, mostly helping refugees to escape the Nazi regime as it swept across Europe. Every chapter has the same structure. Each begins with ‘The Threshold’, describing how they came to take on that role; then ‘The Move’, covering their heroic activities; and finally, ‘The Close’, detailing what happened to them afterward.

These stories are all worth telling, though perhaps not to the same degree. A couple appear more like glorified bureaucrats, and while their roles in facilitating emigration of refugees were important, you don’t get much sense they were in genuine danger. Others, however, such as Irena Sendler, was clearly risking her own life in smuggling Jewish children out of the Warsaw ghetto, being captured and brutally interrogated by the Gestapo. The same goes for Andrée de Jongh, who ran the Comet Line which allowed Allied soldiers trapped behind enemy lines in occupied Europe, to make their way back to friendly territory. She ended up in Ravensbruck concentration camp: that’s “real” heroism, putting yourself at personal risk, and definitely deserves to be better known.

However, the desire to cram in too much here works against the book. Each chapter typically covers only 20-25 pages, and as a result, you get not much more depth about each woman, than you would find in a well-written Wikipedia article. These are more like an appetizer, and you’ll probably be left hungry to know more about the likes of de Jongh. Baker has an odd tendency to shift from factual descriptions to what reads like dramatic restagings of scenes, an awkward shift that she does not manage to pull off. Rather than letting the stories speak for themselves, she tends to belabour her point about sexism being responsible for suppressing these stories.

It’s somewhat questionable, since many male heroes of WW2 are arguably more unsung: de Jongh, for example, was awarded decorations by multiple countries, including the George Medal, Britain’s highest civilian honour. That’s not “unsung.” I’d rather Baker had used the pages she spends on making such points, to tell the reader more about the women’s stories.  I will admit, I did learn things here, and if you’re looking for a primer – a Cliff Notes on wartime heroism – this and the other books in the series are probably worth a look. But it feels like Baker is only skimming the surface, and the subjects would have been better served by a more in-depth recounting, rather than trying to cover so many different candidates. Sometimes, less is definitely more, and this would be a good example. 

Author: Elise Baker
Publisher: Intrepidas Publishing, available through Amazon, both as a paperback and an e-book
Book Part of the Brave Women Who Changed the Course of WWII series.

We Kill Them All

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★½
“Kill me too. Please”

It generally makes sense for a film to escalate over its duration. The problem here is, what escalated was my annoyance. It began as irritation, but by the end I was deeply peeved, because the stupidity is strong in this one. It begins with two different strands. In one, former desperado Lee Hughes is visited in his mountain resort by ex-colleague Jimmy Montague (Fafard) and his minions. They want to know the location of two million in proceeds from a previous crime Lee and Jimmy pulled. In the other, lesbian couple Lane (Newton) and Megan (McClay) are busy being lesbionic with each other, because they’re lesbians. Did I mention they are a same-sex couple?

These two threads link up because Megan is Lee’s daughter. When she and Lane head up to visit him, they discover only Jimmy and his henchmen, Tweedledum and Tweedledumber. They think Megan knows where the loot is. And this is where the idiocy becomes industrial strength. I’m not sure who is worse. The bad guys, for repeatedly allowing their captives to escape. Or Megan and Lane, for repeatedly allowing themselves to get recaptured. It doesn’t help the script ties itself in knots, trying to keep any firearms out of the wonens’ hands before the very end. Yes, the liberal agenda™ here seems to extend to gun control. Until it finally gives up and admits that they are, in fact, the best equalizer in a home invasion scenario. 

Lane, in particular, is entirely useless for the great bulk of proceedings. Until she is not, suddenly able to escape from being tied up with barbed wire – albeit the kind of barbed wire which leaves no marks in her flesh – and left entirely alone while Jimmy and Megan wander off. Again. Megan does, at least, have some guts. But, really: you are in a kitchen, and the best impromptu weapon you can find is… A chopping board? Meanwhile, the purpose of the whole lesbian thing is revealed. It’s cheap heat, so the bad guys can get all homophobic. Being bad is not, apparently enough. [The film really needs to take lessons from What Keeps You Alive in the department of lesbian relationships]

I honestly feel the whole endeavour would be improved by dubbing Three Stooges sound effects over the top of it. The first half is meandering and not very interesting. The second half does at least have things happening. It’s just that they range from the weakly plotted down to the flat out ludicrous. With little or no reason to care about the characters, who seem entirely defined by their bedroom habits, I was left with no interest in their fate. This, incidentally, ends up being exactly what I expected at the mid-way point. I want to stress, this isn’t a bad film because the heroines are lesbians. There are a lot of perfectly good, unbigoted reasons to find this well below average. 

Dir: Jeremy Drummond
Star: Chloe McClay, Emma Newton, Leo Fafard, Michasha Armstrong

Wyvern Awakening, by Joanna Mazurkiewicz

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

There are reviews which are easy to write, because – good or bad – the subject generates a lot to talk about. This is not one of those. It’s a bland slice of semi-urban fantasy, which just… sits there, the literary equivalent of a bowl of vanilla pudding. It’s not good, nor is it bad enough to be memorable. It merely exists, remarkable mostly in how unremarkable it is. Put it this way, I finished it less than 24 hours ago, and I can’t even remember the heroine’s name, so little impression was made. Instead of writing, I find myself almost preferring the Star Trek musical episode Chris is watching next to me. And I don’t really like Star Trek. Or musical episodes. 

It starts off feeling like a Harry Potter knockoff. Heroine (checks notes) Astrid was orphaned after her parents were killed by a powerful mage, leaving her with a facial scar, when she defended herself with her own innate arcane talent. She’s then sent to live with some nasty relatives, who treat her badly, almost to the point of abuse. Yeah, it’s all very J.K. Rowling. She has a dream where she suddenly realizes the Mage was Duke Jorgen, the city’s ruler. She vows to take revenge, and fortunately, the Duke is having a contest to find a new assistant. Astri, who is the last of the wyvern shape-shifters, joins the competition and goes through the resulting trials.

Yet, the closer she gets to Jorgen, the more confused she becomes, because he hardly seems like the parent-murdering type. He is, of course, far too attractive to be evil. Read that sentence with as much sarcasm as you wish. So, if you want every encounter to be overflowing with unresolved romantic tension, here you go. The problem is, there’s no consistency in Astri’s approach. One minute, she is about to get all kissy-face with him, the next she’s leaving him to be tortured by rogue shifters. She’s supposed to be a strong, independent heroine, yet is frequently neither. And what are the rules of this contest anyway? They seem to be made up as the trials progress. 

There are some decent elements. I was amused by the her scabrous pair of pocket pixies – named Jetli and Lenin, because reasons, I guess. There’s also a sense of bigger forces at play beyond Astri’s personal problems. The last trial brings these particularly into focus. But the final revelation has been telegraphed from almost the very beginning, and is as thoroughly unimpressive as I feared. I suspect this might be aimed more at a YA audience. Not that there’s anything inherently wrong with that, except there are YA books that can still work for an adult audience. Then we have this, which does not. To be honest, I suspect even my 13-year-old self might have found it severely deficient, in a number of areas. 

Author: Joanna Mazurkiewicz
Publisher: Self-publshed, available through Amazon, both as a paperback and an e-book
Book 1 of 4 in the Mage Chronicles.

When Women Were Warriors: The Warrior’s Path, by Catherine M. Wilson

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

To be frank, I was expecting rather more action given the title here. Almost all of it, however, takes place “off-screen”, as it were, being described second-hand, rather than experienced. It makes sense in the context of the book, and it’s not badly written. But when you use the word “warrior” or derivations thereof, not once but twice in your title, it would seem fair to expect a higher quotient of… warrioring. I tagged this as fantasy, mostly because it clearly takes place elsewhere and/or elsewhen. It is fairly grounded e.g. no dragons or vampires, but certainly contains elements I would call mystical.

The book tells the story of Tamras, who is sent to join the house of Lady Merin, hoping to progress through the ranks of apprentices and become a warrior woman herself, like her mother before her. Tamras feels too small and weak to succeed, but bonds with another outsider there, Maara, a mysterious woman with no past, who came from the north and whose loyalties are consequently suspected by the others. Maara initially rejects Tamras, but after the warrior is hurt while fending off cattle raiders, it’s Tamras who is largely responsible for nursing her back to health, and the pair begin to forge a relationship. After providing valuable information, Maara wins Merin’s trust, although others in the house still perceive her as a threat.

There is a great deal of sitting around here, though I suspect that might be partly the point. To quote Maara, “Most of a warrior’s days are uneventful” this coming after a month when she and Tamras have been part of a group which spent a month guarding against further livestock theft, without very much happening at all. The nearest to proper action are the reports of the battle where the warriors successfully repel an attack, thanks to Maara’s intel. I liked the setting, this being a world where gender – at least, in this part of the world – is not seen as an issue, with men and women fighting side by side. It’s also definitely lesbian friendly – more so than action heroine friendly, I would suggest.

For there was a point, probably about two-thirds of the way through, that I realized the author really wasn’t interested in providing an adrenaline-packed thrill-ride. This is much more about the relationships between the women – we poor men rarely merit a mention – and in Tamras’s growth as a person. Taken as that character study, it’s by no means bad: Wilson has a good turn of phrase, with some of the more spiritual experiences having particular weight. But at other points, it does feel more like sword ‘n’ soap-opera, and the overall sense of much more interesting stuff happening elsewhere became overpowering before the end. The rating above reflects that; while on purely literary terms, it’s likely better, I was left wanting less talk and more fighting.

Author: Catherine M. Wilson
Publisher: Shield Maiden Press, available through Amazon, both as a paperback and an e-book
Book 1 of 3 in the When Women Were Warriors series.

The Way

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★★½
“Well, I did not see THAT coming…”

I think it has been a long time since a film has so completely yanked the carpet out from under me. We might have to go back all the way to David Lynch’s Lost Highway, and that was 1997. So it has been a while. I’m not sure if it works here. It did in Highway; I’m just uncertain whether Khalili is as good a film-maker as Lynch. It’d likely require a second viewing to decide, and I wasn’t that impressed elsewhere to justify a repeat. I will remember it though, and that’s more than can be said for many of the films I review here. So it was not a complete waste of time. 

It’s the story of Jane Arcs (Jane), whom we first meet as she is on death row, preparing for her execution. Over a decade previously, she had killed another woman during an underground mixed martial-arts match, and was subsequently sentenced to death for it. Initially bitter and still filled with rage, in jail she met Qi Gong Master Xin (Wong), and learned from her how to manage her emotions, through both physical and mental training. Now, Jane is considerably more at peace with her imminent death than others around her. Most notably, guard Max Stone (Watson), who has come to care for Jane over the previous 13 years, and will go to any lengths to stop her being executed. 

This is, at least for the first hour, more of a redemptional drama than anything. There are a lot of flashbacks to Jane’s life on the outside, and we see what happened there. First, there’s the fight in question: while undeniably brutal, I am still not sure why it was deemed a capital crime. That’s especially so, given the extenuating circumstances which we then see, going a long way to explaining why Jane was overflowing with anger at life. Oddly – and this is another Lynchian touch – Watson also plays Ben Jorden, the father of Jane’s child on the outside. Otherwise, though, it’s a fairly straightforward story, albeit one that leans heavily into cliché. For instance, Xin often sounds more like a fortune cookie, saying things like, “The only respect you need is self-respect.”

And then… Wait, what just happened? You will take a few minutes to figure that out, and even when you do, you may well not be able to wrap your head around it adequately. I even Googled for an interview with the director, hoping to get some explanation. No dice – and in the end, it may be better that way. I suspect it might well fall short of satisfying. By the end, I was left with a furrowed brow, and it’s perhaps a little unfortunate. For if the story is otherwise too obvious and with gaps in its logic, I did appreciate the performances. Jane puts over an inner strength that is impressive. Shame it is so thoroughly overshadowed by the abrupt left-turn towards the end.

Dir: Dastan Khalili
Star: Eli Jane, Kelcey Watson, Joan Wong, Lorenzo Antonucci

When the World has Ended, by Rick Wood

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

“It just seemed as if Hell opened up one day and that was that. Instant carnage, liberated monsters, death for all. They rose from somewhere beneath the ground, attacking for no clear reason and killing until God knows when.” That’s how this starts, so there’s no hanging around. Cia Rose is one of the few survivors, for whom every day survival is a perilous endeavour. She’s seventeen, and the daughter of a scientist. When the monsterpocalypse took place, the rich, influential and powerful – who, it appears, knew this was coming – headed for their shelters. Her father was allowed in, to research the invaders. Cia was not.

Four years later, she’s barely scraping by, running from the creatures or their mindless human slaves, known as Wasters. She still holds a grudge, albeit an understandable one, at being abandoned. But Cia is devoted to “Boy”, an autistic child whom she saved after his parents were torn apart by Masketes, a vicious flying species with lethal fangs and claws. The two are separated when Cia is captured by a pack of Wasters, and most of the book is concerned with her attempts to re-unite with Boy. During the process, she discovers that regular humans can be as much a threat as any monster, and finds out the truth about what happened to her father, both back in the early days of the invasion, and since then.

Wood certainly doesn’t stint on the horror, with much rending of flesh by the monsters, though I never really got much of an idea of what they looked like. For example, a Thoral has four legs and is “about the size of the average bungalow.” More than that, I’d be hard-pushed to say. Regardless, life is now nasty and brutal, not least when Cia is captured and made to become part of a repopulation program. The resulting sex scene is, perhaps intentionally, borderline creepy given the heroine’s age. Though it’s worth noting the story is set in Britain where the age of consent is 16 – not that “consent” is much of a factor here.

I think the biggest misstep is at the end, where Cia takes action which results in the immediate deaths of hundreds of people, destroying what had been a safe haven. No matter how bad your Daddy issues, and regardless of the reason, it’s hard to come to terms with the vast carnage for which she is directly responsible, willfully and very much with malice aforethought, while still empathizing with the character. Even though nobody we particularly care about is lost – only bad people, judged by Cia’s severely questionable moral code – it yanked away almost all desire to follow her progress through this post-apocalyptic landscape. It was basically a teenage temper tantrum. Having raised two teenagers, my tolerance for those is slim, especially with the lethal consequences they have here.

Author: Rick Wood
Publisher: Independently published, available through Amazon, both as a paperback and an e-book
Book 1 of 4 in the Cia Rose series.

Wingwomen

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★★
“A wing and not much prayer.”

Netflix describes this as “Charlie’s Angels meets Lupin, with a dash of Killing Eve.” Um. About that… While I haven’t seen Lupin, I can confidently state any similarity to the others is tangential at best. For example, the only thing this really has in connection with Charlie’s Angels, is that there’s three of them. But here, it’s more like 2.25, since the third member is largely useless. It’s almost entirely the story of Carole (Laurent) and Alex (Exarchopoulos), two thieves who work for the enigmatic Marraine (Adjani). But Carole has discovered she’s pregnant and wants out of the business. Marraine is not happy, but agrees, providing Carole does that hoariest of film clichés: One Last Job.

This involves stealing a piece of art from a church, and they ordered to bring a getaway driver on board. She is Sam (Bresch), and is entirely pointless. Carole does the actual thieving, and Alex is a crack shot. But Sam? I can only presume she’s there to fulfill some kind of diversity quota. Because she has no talent past driving, and at no point in the movie subsequently is a quick getaway required. The same goes for other elements. There’s a John Wick-like thread where Alex’s bunny is killed. But the film forgets all about it for an hour, before suddenly remembering. Only to dispose of it in a scene, that seems to exist more so Carole and Sam can do a spot of flamenco.

Laurent has been here before, albeit a while ago. Back in 2011, we reviewed Requiem pour une Tueuse, in which she played an assassin who goes on… [all together!] ONE LAST MISSION! So it’s ironic to see her now directing a movie based around the same trope. It is very focused on the Alex/Carole dynamic, and that might be where the Killing Eve comparisons come from. But there’s nothing remotely adversarial about things here. It is nicely handled, the pair possessing the easy dynamic that only results from long familiarity and comfort with each other. However, this arguably sits closer to Thelma & Louise than anything, and certainly is more intense than you’d find on the male side of the genre. 

To be honest, Laurent seems to prefer this aspect to the action. For instance, she cuts from the meat of a fight between Alex and an assassin, to (presumably!) his tarpaulin wrapped corpse being dropped into the ocean. The stuff which is present, is not especially memorable. Even the art heist turns into more of a comedy of errors, as the target has become the location of a movie shoot. While there are some cool ideas – the stunningly well-disguised hideout in the middle of a forest being one – this feels like a relationship drama disguised as an action movie. It’s especially so at the end, when it almost topples over into hysteria. Give me an Alex solo film instead, and I would probably have been more interested and entertained.

Dir: Mélanie Laurent
Star: Mélanie Laurent, Adèle Exarchopoulos, Manon Bresch, Isabelle Adjani
a.k.a. Voleuses

Wolf Creek: season one

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★★★★
“The dark side of Crocodile Dundee.”

Here is a confession: I have never seen the acclaimed two Wolf Creek movies (2005 and 2013 – a third movie is planned). The reason was simple: I just didn’t care for ultra-cruel slashers from Australia. After watching this TV-spin off I might revise my opinion and catch up with them; if they are as good as this TV series I definitely want to see them!

So, what’s the story? The American Thorogood family is on holiday in Australia. Unfortunately for them, their young son is swimming in a crocodile-infested lake (who goes swimming in Australia? Don’t we all know their waters are full of deadly animals?). Fortunately for them, Australian animal hunter Mick Taylor (John Jarratt) arrives, right on time, to shoot the crocodile before it can attack the boy. Unfortunately for them, Mick is a psychopathic sadistic serial killer who kills them all before the evening is over, including daughter Eve (Lucy Fry). Or so he thinks, because Eve survives. As she is slowly nursed back to health, and answers the questions of the police, she comes to the realization that the authorities won’t be able or willing to catch the killer.

She decides to hunt Mick herself and take revenge for the death of her family. Eve is originally innocent, and carries feelings of guilt, since her family was only in Australia because she was recovering from drug addiction – she used to be an athlete. She has to learn to get along in a hard, merciless country by herself, and avoid or defeat the criminals, thieves and would-be-rapists there who pose a threat during her journey. Eve is pursued by the police, as she herself has broken the law, and also by a well-meaning policeman who wants to help her. Not to mention Mick who – happily slashing his way through unpopulated areas – has realized that someone is pursuing him and starts to play a cat-and-mouse-game with Eve…

I have to say that this series really surprised me. I had bought it based solely due to the cool cover photo and didn’t expect much more than a probably over-gruesome third-rate slasher, I mean, is Australia really famous for great serial killer psycho thrillers? Though there is the very good Stacy Keach and Jamie Lee Curtis thriller from 1981, Road Games. As a matter of fact, this short (six episodes) series blew me away with its astounding quality. When you read the above, you might be forgiven for getting the impression the whole thing will come across as a bit cheap in its storytelling, or the motivation of its characters – a bit schlocky in general.

But… it isn’t.

The best way I can describe the show is with the word “unpretentious”. That might sound strange. Yes, it is, at its core, a revenge story. And, yes, people are tortured and killed in cruel ways: when someone has an infected hand, you see him cut it off with a saw. But I never got the feeling these scenes were gratuitous or to make the blood-thirsty gorehounds happy. Quite the opposite: things like this are carefully integrated into the narrative of the story, and have a meaning that goes above mere shock value. I would almost call this story, about a serial killer tracking his prey across desert hunting grounds, decent and yes, even tasteful – considering how different this narrative could have been presented.

Most surprising for me was, though big game hunter Mick is always looming in the background, it’s mainly Eve’s story. In the beginning I wasn’t too impressed with her. She seemed like a bland, pale character, just a victim who survived a catastrophe. I was half expecting her to become the usual superwoman, who knows it all and can do everything better than every male – thanks, mister! But the filmmakers were smarter than your average Hollywood screenwriter and producer, who nowadays seem only to be able to create one-dimensional, flawless, conveyor-belt manufactured heroines. Eve does not know it all, she can not do it all alone, and makes mistakes – some really terrible. She fails and learns from it. She falls and has to stand up again. It alone makes the character better than almost 95% of today’s female protagonists in American movies or shows. Kudos for that!

Also, there is a second season, which I have not seen yet (it isn’t available in my home country). Given it has everyone’s favourite killer from Down Under again, but not Eve, I began seriously to worry about her fate. You really start to sympathize with her. Running away from the police in the beginning might be anything but rational, but as the series develops, so does she. You start to understand who she is, and she gets a backstory: she is not a random female character out for revenge anymore. She has these understandable feelings and more than once I thought: “Gosh, this could be going different, girl. You should be working together with the police. There could be common ground if you were not so stuck on the idea that you’ve got to do this all on your own!”

Then there are moments when she realizes herself she is way over her head, fighting insurmountable odds. She gets better at it, slowly, and the point in a way is about self-discovery. It becomes an odyssey for oneself, where the protagonist has to question when reaching the nadir of life: What am I standing for? Why do I do what I do? Is it really worth all that? Could I choose a different life? There are moments that indicate that Eve might give up her hunt. The series repeatedly contrasts her persona with other characters who have lost themselves, who may have been destroyed by this vast open country where you seem to be far from civilization or God.

Eve is repeatedly confronted by these criminals, or wanna-be-rapists who see a normal dressed woman as an offer, and experiences family tragedies that actually form the core of the narrative. She is not without help though. As well as the policeman on her trail who reluctantly starts to cover-up for her, there is a criminal whom she meets in the desert, an old Aborigine who fits into the classic mentor role, a colleague in a bar and she even gets a canine companion. Though the question always lingers while watching the show: Will she get her revenge? What will she do when meeting the man who killed her family? Does she even have a chance against an experienced, sadistic killer like Mick?

So, yes, I applaud Lucy Fry’s performance in the role. Thanks to an excellent script, it made me believe she – albeit slowly- becomes a potential threat to the seasoned serial killer. But also John Jarrat, playing this role for a third time, is incredibly good. Mick Taylor is a nightmare of a character, superficially charming, but essentially a disgusting sleazebag. Though it’s great even he has been given a backstory. While he kills the way other people drink their morning coffee, we get to know enough about him to deduce how he became that way. An episode tells us in flashback about a key event in his childhood that may have been the catalyst for his murderous doings. If this is believable is up to the viewer, I think. I like it they gave him more than the “Well, he’s insane” explanation so many movies and shows tend to give their killers nowadays.

Having Eve faced with what can only be labelled as a devil in human form, touches an even more ambitious question. It’s a theme that classic The Hitcher (C. Thomas Howell and Rutger Hauer) dared to ask. How much of your own humanity do you have to leave behind, to be able to fight the devil? I think it refers to the age-old Nietzsche-ism “If you gaze long enough into an abyss, the abyss will gaze back into you.” I’m not saying how this “psycho thriller” ends, but I really, really recommend this show. Every episode had me glued to my TV, and I got much more enjoyment out of this short Australian TV show than I imagined. Also, I think it’s far superior to your average American product playing in the same genre pool.

I really feel I should get my hands on season 2, even though the main actress won’t be back. Also, I look forward to the third movie – and I wish you happy hunting! 😉

Creator: Greg McLean
Star: Lucy Fry, John Jarratt, Dustin Clare, Jessica Tovey 

Who Is Erin Carter?

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★★★★
“Discipline isn’t an issue in Ms. Carter’s class.”

Okay, I will admit that this strained credibility on a number of occasions, to the point that buttons were popping off its shirt. But I don’t think the makers were exactly going for gritty realism, and the bottom line is: I enjoyed this a lot. Certainly, more so than Special Ops: Lioness, another limited series which we were watching concurrently. To at least partially address the question posed by the title, Eric Carter (Ahmad) is a supply teacher working in a Spanish school. She lives with her partner, Jordi (Teale), and their somewhat disabled daughter, Harper (Watson). But at the supermarket, Erin foils a robbery in order to save Harper, and it becomes very clear that her skills are not limited to the arena of education.

Turns out, Erin has a past, and the publicity resulting from her impromptu heroism brings it to visit. She finds herself embroiled in murder, organized crime and police corruption, as well as more normal familial drama, such as neighbourhood jealousy and whiny pre-teen nonsense. One of the seven 45-minute episodes is entirely in flashback (unexpected Jamie Bamber!), explaining the reason she changed her identity and moved to Spain, as well as why those from her history are keen to catch up with her. Even the spectacularly unobservant Jordi begins to realize that his other half is not quite as claimed. Her original explanation of a relapse into alcoholism doesn’t exactly explain all the sudden absences, injuries and unusual behaviour Erin is now exhibiting, as she tries to manage the escalating situation.

As you can see, you will need to suspend your disbelief, not least in the reveal of the big bad, who turns out to be a remarkably coincidental person, already in Erin’s life. But there’s a lot to enjoy here, such as the sardonic comparison between “Mommy life” and Erin’s violent and deceptive past. She can go from swapping bitchy comments with a school colleague, to punching throats, in what feels like the blink of an eye. I was also impressed with the combat scenes, which tend to have Erin using anything she can find around her, and possess an impact considerably greater than most TV series. Ahmad, who was in Les Filles du Soleil, possesses a terse fighting style that’s effective.

I admit to largely hating Harper, who is almost a cliche of the bratty, narcissistic and somewhat precocious little girl – admittedly, that may be the point. There are hints she has violent tendencies of her own, albeit this angle is never developed in the first series. The show escalates nicely, until a final episode where Erin and an unexpected ally end up going on the offensive, and things are wrapped up in a reasonable manner. The show did well, topping Netflix’s English-language chart in its week of release, and is still #3 at the time of writing. I’d certainly like to see another series, with this unexpectedly having become my favourite new show of 2023 to date. Though I’m still not sure of the answer to the title’s question.

Creator: Jack Lothian
Star: Evin Ahmad, Sean Teale, Douglas Henshall, Indica Watson

The Watcher, by Matthew Hattersley

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

Somebody really liked Killing Eve… If you’re going to write a story about an amoral female assassin, working for a shadowy group, who becomes involved with a woman she’s supposed to kill, then you are basically inviting such comparisons. These are unlikely to be favourable to your work. I’m just sayin’. This started off okay: however, a single sentence at the 46% mark was basically a large neon sign as to how this was going to end, and proved exactly the case, as this collapsed in a slew of implausibility. Now, I’m not a trained assassin, so can’t comment on those elements. However, I do work in IT, and it’s clear the author does not. For instance, if someone was to leave our company on bad terms, their access would be immediately removed, as a top priority, so they couldn’t… oh, waltz in thereafter and download all our highly sensitive data. Sheesh.

Anyway, back on the amoral female assassin front, we have “Acid Vanilla”, the operational name of a killer working for private company Annihilation Pest Control. They’ve been contracted to tidy up after an executive of tech company Cerberix was seen  strangling a hooker. The employee who witnessed it, Spook Horowitz, and footage of the murder, both have to be disposed of. However, Acid is already teetering on the edge of burnout, and when her target informs her about the realities of the case, the hitwoman decides she is on the wrong side. She and Spook set out to take down Cerberix. This means her boss at APC will send a steady stream of other employees in their direction, in an effort to cover up the widening mess this contract is causing. It needs to be cleared up before Cerberix’s upcoming and much-ballyhoed announcement of their new venture, due to be live streamed across the globe in a few days.

Yeah, if you can’t tell the eventual direction, I don’t know what to say, and Horowitz has to be the least convincing depiction of a “hacker” I’ve ever read. Neither her, nor the relationship with Acid, are credible, and the further the book goes on, the more these elements take centre-stage. It’s a shame, since Vanilla herself is a decent character: the child of trauma, inevitably, yet not a pure psychopath either, and with significant mommy issues, let’s just say. Particularly as a first book, Hattersley should have stuck to establishing her, rather than bringing in the Jiminy Cricket-like character of Horowitz, who can also get whatever information is required by the plot with a couple of mouse-clicks. There’s no shortage of action, to be sure, although it felt almost like a running joke the way Acid inevitably took out the bad guys with head-shots (so many skulls exploding like ripe fruit…), while they only ever aimed at her and Spook’s bodies. Definitely one of the more baffling 4.25-star ratings on Goodreads.

Author: Matthew Hattersley
Publisher: Boom Boom Press, available through Amazon, both as a paperback and an e-book
Book 1 of 7 in the Acid Vanilla series.