Tag: w

The Witch: Part 2. The Other One

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★★½
“Which witch is which?”

This showed up as a bit of a surprise. Obviously, even the title suggested that the makers were looking for a sequel to The Witch: Part 1. The Subversion. However, I had no idea whether or not it had been successful enough to merit a follow-up. Clearly the answer is yes, though I would certainly recommend you either re-watch, or at the very least read up on, the preceding entry. Even at a rather bloated 137-minute running time, it does not provide any “Previously, on The Witch…” recap. You’re entirely on your own, and after a brief prologue, you will be dropped right into things, though any connection to the previous film only becomes apparent at the very end.

It begins with the escape of “Ark 1” (Shin) from the research facility where she has been undergoing experiments. Stumbling onto a road, she’s picked up by a car containing Kyung-hee (Park), a young woman who is in serious trouble with the gangsters also present in the car. Ark 1 handily defeats them after they get a bit too friendly, quickly earning Kyung-Hee’s gratitude. She takes Ark 1 back to live with her and her brother, Dae-gil (Sung), introducing Ark 1 to the delights of food. The gangsters are none too happy with getting their butts kicked, and regroup for another attempt. They’re not the only ones after Ark 1 either, as her former “owners” sent out an agent, Jo-hyeon (Seo), with talents of her own, to retrieve their property.

As the rather clunky sub-title implies, this is mostly about an entirely different character to the preceding movie. This feels like a bit of a cheat, as if you’d carefully studied for a pop quiz, only for it to be for another subject entirely. Instead, you get a plot which, even at the extended running time, feels rather too over-stuffed. The remarkable coincidence of Ark 1 stumbling into a car containing the very person who can help her, and that simultaneously needs her help, is just the first in quite a few moments where people happen to be in the right place at the right time. I suspect there’s also a plot thread or two more than is beneficial to overall coherence.

This is especially true at the end, where the various factions converge and have a massive battle in poorly-lit conditions. Going by what I saw earlier, this may have been the makers’ way of disguising the CGI. It’s an area with scope for improvement, especially when Ark 1 is demonstrating her remarkable super strength, by hurling people. cars, etc. around with enthusiasm. I suspect this is a victim of second movie syndrome, being the entry in a trilogy that has neither a start nor an ending. I do have to cut it some slack on that basis, and presuming the series is finished (and this was a top 10 film in Korea for 2022), I’ll still be tuning in for the finale. There’s just enough potential, even if my expectations are quire restrained.

Dir: Park Hoon-jung
Star: Shin Si-ah, Park Eun-bin, Seo Eun-soo, Sung Yoo-bin 

Where We Disappear

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★★★
“A chilly tale of isolation”

It’s the end of World War II in Russia, and Anastasia (Haig) is at the station to welcome her husband home from the front. Except, realizing he is still the same abusive jerk he was, she stabs him dead. This gets her an extended stay in a Siberian gulag, as a guest of HM Stalin’s government, a situation for which she is entirely unsuited. As soon as she arrives in the remote prison, the first cabin-mate she meets comments on the softness of her hands, and she’s told she won’t survive a week. The biggest threat, however, may not be the Arctic conditions, but the other inmates. In particular, Masha (Andersen), who has taken over as leader after previous top dog, Lubov (Isabelle), suffered an “accident”. The question is, what is Anastasia prepared to do, and how far will she go, in order to survive?

Although this lasts only 73 minutes, end-to-end, it feels longer. That isn’t particularly a bad thing, since it’s mostly a reflection of the near-constant tension. There’s a perpetual sense of menace here, with violence and abuse – physical, mental or spiritual – always lurking just beneath the surface, whether from guards or other prisoners. That tends to make for a stressful experience for the viewer, as they can never relax. The pace is relentless. Things unfold not quite in real time after Anastasia’s arrival, but it does take place over her first night there. Another prisoner escapes, and the women have to decide how to handle that, especially with Lubov, who has a “cozy” relationship with one of the guards, now indisposed. Fresh meat Anastasia and her soft hands is the obvious replacement; not a task she’s willing to take on. Eventually, she’s coerced into the task, which doesn’t unfold as anyone expects.

This was based on Arthur M. Jolly’s stage play, A Gulag Mouse, and its origins in the theatre are frequently clear, both in the limited locations and importance placed on  dialogue. It might have been nice had Fink taken greater advantage of the freedoms afforded by cinema, but I imagine the claustrophobic atmosphere generated is entirely intentional. I must confess to being rather confused by the final act, which seems to throw the hard realism in which the rest of the picture is grounded, completely out of the window. By the end, I was far from clear how much of what I’d witnessed previously, had taken place in any subjective reality. It could be virtually any number from zero to a hundred percent, and I found its unwillingness to commit somewhat aggravating.

However, the performances are well-executed, each drawing the different aspects of their characters well. Andersen perhaps stands out, as a woman whose presence in the gulag is due to something far darker than the “stealing an apple” to which she blithely confesses. There’s enough potential generated in the first hour for a 13-episode series, and it’s a bit of a shame that the ending proves incapable of doing it justice.

Dir: Simon Fink
Star: Georgina Haig, Jolene Andersen, Katharine Isabelle, Vera Cherny

Warchild: Pawn, by Ernie Lindsey

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

This dystopian future takes place after the United States of America is no longer united, having fragmented into a group of disparate regions that exist in an uneasy piece with each other. The heroine is 14-year-old Caroline, who lives in a remote part of the Appalachians, her town loosely affiliated to the People’s Republic of Virginia. She’s a scout, and one day encounters forces from the Democratic Alliance. The population of her village who escape, head towards the state capital of Warrenville, pursued by the invading army. On the way, Caroline begins to come into startling abilities which were literally injected into her as a small child.

The collapse of the US is a concept which seems considerably more relevant now, than when the book originally came out in 2014; I was surprised to discover that it takes place several centuries into the future, rather than… oh, next Tuesday. This is the element which I think I found most interesting. While the story is a real page-turner, and I enjoyed it at the time, it’s one where I found myself stumbling into plot-holes when it came to writing the review. For instance, if you can get superpowers by syringe, why are there less than a handful of people so enhanced? I’d have expected the authorities to be all over that kind of thing, in particular the military. Instead, it seems almost to be like a post-apocalyptic version of winning the lottery.

Similarly, the way in which Caroline leads the refugees to Warrenville would have made more sense if she’d come into her powers first. That would plausibly help turn the teenager into a Joan of Arc-like figure. Instead, it seems rather contrived the way adults – even the fiercely independent and survivalist Republicons – defer to her, for no particular reason beyond Caroline being the heroine of the book. However, if you can get past that (and again, I didn’t really think about them while I was reading it), then you should be able to enjoy a fast-paced surge of a book, which tends to have something going on, more often than not.

Lindsey certainly doesn’t pull his punches. On more than one occasion a character meets an unexpected and brutal end, and this gives a sense of danger for the rest of them. Well, except Caroline, of course, who is fully engulfed in Heroine Armour, naturally. Still, there is a genuine character arc here, as her relatively pastoral existence is turned completely upside down, and she’s forced into maturity over the course of just a few days, after losing everything she knows. I would be tempted to read the next two volumes, just to see where the story goes: for instance, I’m curious about what happened to Crockett’s gang of Republicons, who just wandered off in the middle of the story. Though I’d need more of a “special offer” for the omnibus edition than the 49-cent saving it provides over buying parts two and three separately!

Author: Ernie Lindsey
Publisher: JCL Publishing, available through Amazon, both as a paperback and an e-book
Book 1 of 3 in the Warchild series.

The Woman King

  By

★★★
“Annalise Keating does not mess around.”

The above – though expressed rather more bluntly! – was Chris’s reaction to the opening scene, in which Nanisca (Davis) leads her female troops, the Agojie, in the ambush of slavers from the neighbouring Oyo tribe. The Oyo are rivals to the Kingdom of Dahomey, under King Ghezo (John Boyega), who relies on Nanisca and the Agojie to protect his territory, and it’s getting closer to all-out war. The Agojie get a new recruit, Nawi (Mbedu), whose father drops her off at the palace gate, because of her refusal to accept an arranged marriage. Nawi turns out to have a very close connection to Nanisca, but also ends up captured by the Oyo and needs to escape before being sold to Brazilian slavers.

I found myself disappointed by this split focus. Davis is great, commanding the screen in just about every scene, and looking every inch a credible army commander. Her physique is also impressive, considering she’s older than I am. The problem is, there isn’t enough of her, even in a 134-minute movie, and Nawi isn’t anywhere near as interesting. While Nanisca may be a fictional character (and I’ll circle back to this), she’s a unique creation. Nawi, on the other hand, feels like a lazy combination of tropes from other films. Never mind the training montage, I literally sighed when she goes back to help a struggling comrade in arms during her final test. The more I saw of her, the less interested I was.

The Agojie in general are an intriguing topic, and there has been some controversy over the film’s depiction of Dahomey. In reality, they were no less enthusiastic about slavery than their neighbours, and certainly didn’t limit themselves to captured enemy soldiers, as is kinda suggested here. However, I can’t say I was bothered. Heck, one of my all-time favourite films is Braveheart, which has only a tangential and tenuous link to historical fact. This deserves no less a pass. You have to accept that these days, you just couldn’t sell – to the audience or a studio – a film where slavers were the good guys. Or girls, in this case. Just do not attempt to pass this off as history.

While more accurate than Black Panther, which had its own female warriors, I’d say it is on a par with your typical Joan of Arc biopic, of which I have rather a lot of recent experience! Purely as entertainment though, it’s decent enough, with Prince-Bythewood possessing a good eye for spectacle. The various threads of Nanisca’s life are weaved together in a decent way, leading to a final confrontation that’s no less satisfying for being entirely expected [and reminiscent of another not-very-historical epic, Gladiator] However, at the macro level, it never quite meshed for me into more than a pleasant time-passer. Nanisca is a fascinating heroine, in need of a character arc. The problem is, Nawi is an interesting arc, in desperate need of a character. 

Dir: Gina Prince-Bythewood
Star: Viola Davis, Thuso Mbedu, Lashana Lynch, Sheila Atim

The Woman Who Robbed the Stagecoach

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★★½
“A tale of daylight robbery.”

There are a couple of points to note going in. This was one of “12 Westerns in 12 months”, a project run by the director during 2020. It also proudly pronounces itself as the first ever Western feature to be shot entirely on an iPhone. Both of these do lead to limitations. The sheer speed involved obvious has an impact, and I can’t help wondering if a more measured approach would have been better for the end product. As for the iPhone… Well, on the plus side it looked perfectly watchable on my 49″ television, especially the outdoor scenes. However, the indoor sequences seemed almost too crisp. Especially for a historical production like this, I felt I was expecting a softer look, and I found that a bit of a distraction throughout.

It’s the story of Pearl Hart, a genuine figure from Arizona history, who achieved notoriety by being involved in one of the last stagecoach robberies, at the very end of the nineteenth century (May 30, 1899, to be precise). The movie covers both her life leading up to that point, and the subsequent arrest, trial, acquittal, re-arrest, conviction, escape, recapture, eventual release – according to some, because she managed to get pregnant in jail – and final disappearance into obscurity. Actually, the script basically feels like they took Pearl’s Wikipedia page, and used that as a synopsis. You can virtually tick off the incidents mentioned in it, as they happen during the film. With the character such a blank slate, and so little verifiable information, I’d like to have seen Mills give us something not taken from the first page of Google results.

The positives are mostly from the performances. Mills pulls double-duty as Hart’s accomplice, “Joe Boot”, about whom next to nothing is known. That does allow some freedom, and Root is made into a European miner, who is largely obsessed with Pearl and prepared to take the fall for the robbery on her behalf. I did like Etchell’s portrayal of Pearl, a woman who has been fighting an uphill battle almost her entire life, and tries to make the best of her situation – often by morally questionable means, albeit out of necessity. The film also shot in a lot of the locations around where events took place, such as in Globe, with the Yuma Territorial Prison standing in for Tucson’s jail.

It’s unfortunate that the limited time and budget are often all too apparent. In particular, there’s next to no scope here, with Mills largely forced to keep the camera in close, to try and disguise the paucity of sets, or things like a lack of extras. It really doesn’t work, although it remains a story that should be told, and I’m glad to have heard it. But the almost throwaway nature of the production, combined with the rote nature of the script, does the larger than life character of Pearl Hart a disservice. They should have chosen to print the legend instead.

Dir: Travis Mills
Star: Lorraine Etchell, Travis Mills, Kevin Goss, Michael Estridge

Witch Hunt

  By

★★★
“Not-so sunny spells.”

This is set in the everyday world – but with one major tweak. Witchcraft exists, and has been outlawed in the United States by the 11th amendment. Now, government agents from the BWI seek out witches, using tried and true methods from the middle ages (the “sink test” is exactly what it sounds like), and punish those found or suspected to be practicing witchcraft. But those opposed to this have set up an “underground railroad” to smuggle the targets over the boarder to Mexico. Teenage girl Claire (Adlon) is part of one such family, courtesy of her mom Martha (Elizabeth Mitchell); Dad is out of the picture. Claire is rather ambivalent about their activism, since she just wants to fit in at school. But the arrival of Fiona (Cowen) and her little sister, siblings whose mother was burned at the stake, forces Claire out of her professed neutrality,. Especially as the investigation of the unrelenting BWI Agent Hawthorne (Camargo) gets closer to home.

This was on wobbly territory in the first half, with a few storyline flaws. Why are witches outlawed? Was there some 9/11-like incident to trigger the crackdown? And why has the government built a wall to keep them in? If they want to leave, surely that’s a victory for everyone? I was also amused that, at least initially, it appears all witches are redheads. Because, as we all know, gingers have no souls. :) There was also a scene in which schoolgirls Claire and Fiona hang out in a bar: hey, this society may hate witches, but they’re clearly more relaxed about teenage drinking. However, that scene was also where the film suddenly “clicked”, as they discussed whether the ending of Thelma & Louise had been censored because they were witches. For whatever reason, thereafter I felt in tune with what the film was trying to do. The film may have been more than a little clunky with its social metaphors, yet it was still an interesting universe to depict.

This seems to ramp up markedly after Hawthorne shows up, putting an all-too human face on the hatred, and providing a good antagonist – something largely absent in the early states. There’s a very politeness to him which makes his actions all the more menacing – a little like Hans Landa in Inglourious Basterds. The updating of old-time mythology surrounding witches also works very well: the modern version of the sink test involves the school swimming pool and, in a nod to the “kinder, gentler” era, scuba apparatus. Though as it turns out, this isn’t infallible: albeit without consequence or impact. All told, there are plenty of interesting ideas here: however, the movie falls short of merging them into an effective whole. If the generally decent performances do help paper over some cracks, there are enough still apparent, and the end result is actually a little infuriating. I suspect a moderately near-miss like this has a greater sense of unfulfilled potential than a complete disaster.

Dir: Elle Callahan
Star: Gideon Adlon, Abigail Cowen, Elizabeth Mitchell, Christian Camargo

Wild Justice, by Kelley Armstrong

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

With this 2013 novel, Armstrong brings her original Nadia Stafford trilogy to a satisfying conclusion (although the two later novellas carry on the story in a rewarding way). Again, six months have passed since the previous installment, so our chronological setting is the latter part of October, 2007.

By the end of the second novel, Nadia had recognized that her true romantic feelings are for Jack. But she also concluded that her taciturn and seemingly unemotional mentor didn’t return them (although readers might be less sure of that). So in the intervening months since, she and Quinn have added a sexual component to their long-distance relationship (they get together about once a month). For readers who view sex as expressive body language for a total self-giving in life-long love and fidelity, it’s not hard to predict that introducing it into a situation where both parties profess no hurry to be committed (and one is in love with someone else) is likely to end in emotional disaster.

That’s what happened here, about a month ago,with Quinn wanting to move in the direction of engagement and marriage and Nadia not willing to, leading to a messy breakup that left him very hurt and her “feeling like [vulgarism deleted].” :-( On top of that stress, when this book opens, she’s in rural Michigan on a job (of the kind that she doesn’t advertise). That quickly results, though through no fault of her own, in a traumatic event which has her on the point of meltdown. But before long, she’s in for a moral and emotional ordeal which will make her present distresses look relatively mild.

Both previous novels have made us aware of the formative event of Nadia’s life, which happened when she was only 13. That was the night she and her beloved 14-year-old cousin Amy (with Nadia along because, as usual, she was trying to keep the headstrong older girl out of trouble) got taken to a lonely woodland cabin by a budding psychopath in his early 20s named Drew Aldritch. Nadia was able to escape and run for help, but Amy still ended up raped and killed. At the trial, Nadia wasn’t called to testify; and it didn’t help that Amy was a bit of a “wild child” with a reputation as a flirt.

The defense exploited that to claim that the sex was “consensual,” and that Aldritch strangled his victim to death “accidentally.” So the jury acquitted him. (Yes, this is fiction; but sadly, even in real life, there are jurors who would actually be that idiotic.) He left town immediately; and Nadia hasn’t seen him since. But the horror of the tragedy, and the survivor’s guilt, has stayed with her for 20 years, shaping her into the adult woman she became, and leaving her with intermittent nightmares from which she still wakes up screaming.

Jack knows something about the baleful influence of teenage trauma (and we’ll learn something, in the course of this book, about his past and how it shaped him –our leading lady here isn’t the only character with painful baggage). Early on, Jack discloses that, on his own initiative, he’s tracked Aldritch down to where he’s now living in Ohio under his latest alias, and working, of all things, as a small-town cop –and there’s good reason to believe that his behavior and proclivities haven’t changed for the better in the ensuing decades. So Nadia now has to decide what to do with this knowledge. Whatever happens, this trip down Memory Lane is not going to be a pleasant stroll; and it will prove to be a dark, harrowing, twisty and dangerous one, with more than one major surprise.

As usual, there’s a genuine mystery (actually, more than one) at the heart of this tale; and solving it, and surviving to the point of solving it, will be a challenge. (Luckily, Nadia’s tough and resourceful.) In terms of style, this book is much of a piece with the preceding ones in most respects, including the language issues. Again, there’s no explicit sex, but there is some unmarried sex that takes place, and some scenes are steamier than some readers might want. Romance, and related angst, doesn’t take over the plot, but it plays a more important role than it has up to now, and there will be a significant development in that area. (The books definitely are best read in order.) At one point, a character imparts a crucial piece of information that later developments show that he wouldn’t have known, but that’s the only logical slip; in the main, the plotting is impeccable. For any readers who liked the first two books, this one has to rank as a must-read; and I don’t believe any of them will be disappointed with it!

Author: Kelley Armstrong
Publisher: Penguin Group; available through Amazon, both for Kindle and as a printed book.
A version of this review previously appeared on Goodreads.

Witness Protection, by Holly Copella

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

This is one of those books where the cover (right) feels at odds with the synopsis: “After witnessing an execution, a resourceful young woman attempts to disappear while being pursued by a hitman and a handsome federal agent.” Having read the book, the reality sits somewhat uncomfortably in the middle. It might have been better if the author had committed to writing either an action novel or a romance; the combination of them here is awkward and clunky. Naturally, my preference was for the former. But it seems that every time the book got into a rhythm there, the heroine would start lusting after one (frankly, close to all) of the male characters, and the energy would be derailed.

The central character is Jackie Remus, a helicopter pilot who is ferrying the Governor to an event when he invites her to his mansion. There, she stumbles into a murder committed by his right-hand man. Dexter Smyth, a situation from which she only narrowly escapes. As the sole witness, she’s placed into protective custody, under the guardianship of FBI agent Holden Falcone. But when the lakeside house in which she’s hidden, is stormed by the Governor’s men, Jackie decides she’s better off on her own. For she has a very particular set of skills, being a military brat whose late father was commander of a Navy SEAL platoon. So Jackie is quite capable of taking care of herself, much to Falcone’s consternation.

The bulk of the book therefore becomes a bit of a chase, with Jackie making her way across the country towards the mysterious Monroe, one of her father’s former soldiers, whom she believes offers her best shot at safety. Falcone is in pursuit of her, while Smyth is seeking to intercept Jackie, and make sure she is never able to testify against his boss. Mixed in with this, is a lot of unresolved sexual tension, especially between Jackie and the FBI agent. Though it ends being thoroughly and repeatedly resolved, if you know what I mean, and I think you do. This begs the question of what the FBI thinks about an agent having sexual relations with a star witness in a high-profile case. The book clearly doesn’t care.

There’s also a sense of too much stuff happening for no adequate reason, such as the bizarrely irrelevant home invasion during a hurricane, which occurs at Monroe’s house in the Florida Keys. If this was a film, I’d say it was added in order to get it up to feature length, but a novel surely has no need for such padding. And, of course, there’s the way both sides stoically decline opportunities to shoot each other in the head. There’s not much here that comes across as convincing, though Copella does a good job of keeping things moving forward. There’s never a dull moment here. Just too many implausible ones.

Author: Holly Copella
Publisher: Copella Books, available through Amazon, both as a paperback and an e-book
1 of 9 in the Witness Protection series.

While She Was Out

  By

★★★
“Christmas shopping can be hell”

Della (Basinger) is stuck in a marriage with her abusive husband (Sheffer). But she deals with it, for the sake of their two children, whom she adores. It’s Christmas Eve, and she escapes to the mall for a little retail therapy. The lot there is packed, and she leaves a passive-aggressive note on the windscreen of a particularly selfish parker. Big mistake. For it belongs to Chuckie (Haas) and his young group of multiracial thugs (one black, one Hispanic and one Asian, so that’s nice…). The subsequent altercation leads to the death of a mall cop, with Della as the only witness. So they pursue her, first to a construction site, then into the nearby woods, intent on making sure she can’t testify against them.

It’s kinda daft, and that’s putting it mildly. Takes a bit of time to get going too, with scenes of Della mall-ratting, and suffering microaggresions like a barista spelling her name wrong. Eventually, it gets to the violence, and things pick up, even if the silliness persists. Most obviously, Della lugging a big, red tool-box with her, shown in the poster, while she runs around the forest. It is, admittedly, a tool-box necessary to the plot, not least for its part in an energetic and impressive, “tyre-iron repeatedly to the face” sequence. This is just one of the ways in which Della dispatches the gang members, although the first is more the victim of an unfortunate accident than enemy action. 

The loopiness reaches its peak at the end, when the face-off between Della and the last gang member goes in a direction you probably would not have expected. Let’s leave it at that. But overall, this is an enjoyable enough slice of nonsense, with a story which is all the better for being extremely simple. Though it is easy enough to think of ways in which it could be improved though. For example, give Della some kind of back story to explain her ability to best young men in hand-to-hand combat. The story makes mention of her classes in Pilates, Spanish and mechanics; would it be so hard to have thrown in a karate class as well?

Probably the major potential area for improvement is on the villains’ side. Haas has a somewhat creepy vibe, however it’s one better suited to a lone psycho than a gang leader. Some of the dialogue between the members is also risible, as if writer/director Montford had no experience she could use to relate to her characters. They come off as largely unthreatening, more like kids playing dress-up than actual psychos, and the relative ease with which Della can counter them doesn’t help. But Basinger is good value in her role, and I will confess to nodding in appreciation at the final scene, even if it’s something we should probably have seen coming. I was entertained adequately by this, and that’s all I wanted.

Dir: Susan Montford
Star: Kim Basinger, Lukas Haas, Leonard Wu, Craig Sheffer

Wolfwalkers

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★★★
“Mononoke Hime, with potatoes…”

Ok, that’s a little harsh. But this very definitely does feel like an Irish take on Princess Mononoke, Hayao Miyazaki’s epic fantasy. This begins with the technical aspects, both animated films rejecting CGI in favour of a more traditional, hand-drawn style. In 1997, when Mononoke came out, that wasn’t so radical: the first fully CGI feature, Toy Story, had come out less than two years earlier. But in 2020, the dominance of CGI is such that Wolfwalkers seems a total throwback; after all, Disney went fully CGI after Winnie the Pooh in 2011. This is a very different style, and if you’re used to the hyper-realistic approach of Pixar, may take some getting used to.

The similarities don’t stop there. Both take place in medieval times, and have a settlement on the edge of the woods in a struggle with nature and its spiritual forces – in particular, as marshaled by a young girl. Another young person ventures into the woods, eventually befriending the girl, and the pair team up to prevent the destruction of the forests in the name of “civilization.” For rural Japan, read rural Ireland in the mid-17th century. For Lady Eboshi in charge of the modern forces, read England’s Lord Protector, Oliver Cromwell (McBurney). This adds a touch of colonialism to the general ecological message here, with Cromwell seeking to subdue the wolves, partly as a demonstration of power over the local population.

There are other differences, too. The heroine here is Robyn Goodfellowe (Kneafsey), the daughter of hunter Bill (Bean), who has come to Ireland to control the wolf population. Robyn wants to help her father, but he’s having none of it. That doesn’t stop her from sneaking into the woods where she meets Mebh Óg MacTíre (Whittaker). She and her mother are wolfwalkers, whose spirits leave their bodies and turn into wolves when they are asleep. They also control the local native canine population. A bite from Mebh turns Robyn into one as well, but Cromwell has captured Mebh’s mother in her wolf form, sending her into a sleep from which she can’t awaken. Robyn tries to convince her father of the existence of wolfwalkers, and broker a peaceful resolution. Neither he nor Cromwell are having any of it, setting up a final confrontation in the forest.

On its own terms, this might have merited a slightly higher score. The problem for me was, it simply reminded me of the strengths of Mononoke. That was considerably more subtle about its message, making Eboshi a much more sympathetic character than Cromwell, who is positively cartoonish in both looks and demeanour. [Spoiler: I’m also fairly sure he wasn’t pushed to his death off a precipice by an Irish lycanthrope]. The approach here is  simplistic in comparison, especially the deeper we get into the story. which probably makes it more appropriate for a younger audience than adults. I still enjoyed it, but doubt there’s much rewatchability to be found here.

Dir: Tomm Moore and Ross Stewart
Star (voice):  Honor Kneafsey, Eva Whittaker, Sean Bean, Simon McBurney