Willow, by Wayland Drew

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

willowTheoretically, this book by Canadian author Wayland Drew is the novelization of the 1988 movie Willow. However, it’s not based directly on the movie itself, but on Bob Dolman’s screenplay (which was itself developed from a guiding storyline written by George Lucas). Much of this screenplay was omitted –and some of it apparently changed, usually to condense and simplify the dialogue and action– in filming the actual movie, and one of the stars (Val Kilmer) ad-libbed most of his dialogue. So the movie actually differs significantly from the book; the latter is much richer in world-building and character development and has a number of significant events that aren’t in the former, and that help to explain some character’s attitudes and choices that are only weakly explained in the film. This means that the relationship of the two is more like that of a movie adapted from a book than that of a typical novelization. It also means it’s harder to identify Drew’s individual modifications and contributions than it would be with most novelizations.

Regardless of the prehistory of the book’s text, though, the finished novel is a fine work of epic fantasy, with well-developed characters, a stirring plot that doesn’t have logical holes, and vivid prose. In general conception, it owes something to Tolkien’s monumental Lord of the Rings series –but few works of post-Tolkien epic fantasy do not, and it has its own distinct premise, plot, characteristics and flavor; any literary influence is simply that, not slavish dependence. Like Sauron, Bavmorda is a power-freak magic-wielder hungry for world domination; but where Sauron is an impersonal, off-stage evil force, Bavmorda is a fully human character we see up close and personal, in all her ugly glory. Drew’s short-statured Nelwyn race has some general similarities to hobbits, and perhaps more to dwarves; but in the final analysis, they’re neither, a race and culture all their own. (And the basic structure of a quest narrative in fantasy goes back long before Tolkien, as do other archetypes that appear here.) But like the LOTR saga, it has a very clear conflict of good and evil, and a recurring theme of the necessity and important consequences of the moral choices we’re called to make and the responsibilities we’re called to shoulder, whether we see ourselves as well-qualified heroic types or not.

Lucas’ influence is evident in a few places, where the Mystery of magic is presented in terms vaguely reminiscent of the Force in his Star Wars saga (the kind of thing Francis Schaeffer referred to as “contentless mysticism”), but this is a minor note that has no real significance for the storyline. A more prominent (and more positive) theme is the strong affection for the natural world that’s evident, with the idea that good people care about the latter, while evil results in defilement and destruction of nature. (This is brought out much more in the book than in the movie.) The book is also grittier and more violent than the movie in places, but it has no bad language (Madmartigan’s h-words in the film resulted from Kilmer’s ad-libbing) and no real sexual content, beyond the implication of womanizing by Madmartigan with an innkeeper’s wife at one point. (That aspect of his character isn’t glorified, and is explained as a reaction to an earlier event in his past.)

The action-heroine aspect of the book is embodied in the character of Sorsha (played in the movie by Joanne Whalley), the most important female character in the tale. She’s Bavmorda’s daughter, raised not to question her mother –but there’s another side to her heritage, too. Her moral journey, and the choice before her, will be one of those most central to the book. She’s also definitely raised as a warrior, really comfortable only in battle, in the camp or on the march, or in the hunt for dangerous game, thoroughly accustomed to handling weapons (she sleeps with a dagger under her pillow), and as tough as nails; we hardly ever see her out of her armor. For fans of the action-female motif, the one complaint here is that she doesn’t have much in the way of actual fighting scenes –just a couple in the entire book, although she acquits herself bravely and capably in both of them. It’s arguably a pity that the plot here didn’t allow more scope for the display of her butt-kicking abilities.

In a fantasy genre that’s overrun by bloated series, this one also has the advantage of being a stand-alone book with a contained storyline and a clear-cut resolution. Lucas actually intended to make sequels to the film, but never did; instead, he wrote a series of follow-up books, the Chronicles of the Shadow War. But these are set after the events here, and aren’t directly related to them, or at least that’s my impression –I’ve never read them. (That’s why Goodreads labeled the book “Chronicles of the Shadow War 0,” rather than giving it a number as an actual part of the sequence.) So this would be a great choice for fantasy readers who don’t want to commit to a multi-volume series! But it’s a solid, rewarding read for any epic fantasy fan.

Author: Wayland Drew
Publisher: Ballantine Books, available through Amazon, currently only as a printed book.

A version of this review previously appeared on Goodreads.

The World Before Her

★★★
“Beauties and the beasts?”

worldbeforeherI love the double meaning of the title, which could mean either, “the world in front of her” or “the world of the past”. Both would be appropriate for the this documentary, which focuses on two contradictory and opposite facets of modern Indian culture, though both are redefining the ways in which women are portrayed. On the one hand, you have Ruhi Singh, a participant in the Miss India contest. In India, beauty pageants seem to have an unexpectedly feminist position, in contrast to how they are often seen in the west, as “cattle markets”; it’s pointed out, beauty is one of the few areas in Indian society where women and their opinions are seen as the equals of men. Then there is Prachi Trivedi, a young woman and fervent Hindu nationalist, fighting against exactly that kind of decadent Western culture, training with the Durga Vahini, the woman’s wing of a group that has been described as neo-terrorist in nature, and who protested against Miss World when the contest came to India in 1996.

The contrast between the two is certainly stark: Singh is elegant, clearly modern in outlook and does not believe foreign culture poses any threat to India. Trivedi, on the other hand, eschews make-up, years for a past unsullied by modern culture, and regards both Christians and Muslims as the enemy [as one training camp attendee puts it, in a thinly-veiled threat, “We have learned to use guns and we’ll use them if we have to. We will kill people if we need to”]. Yet, she rebels against her father’s beliefs that a woman’s first – indeed, sole – duty is marriage and having children, and readily acknowledges the inherent contradiction in being devoted to an organization that is intent on continuing to repress her. The film appears to be saying that the two are not too different in nature, sharing an independent streak – under other circumstances (and, probably, a makeover for Prachi), perhaps could be friends.

However, I’m not sure the film has too much more to say than that. It certainly doesn’t have anything new to add about the beauty pageant aspects, in part because Ruhi is fairly guarded and self-aware of her image, reluctant to commit to too much. This is not an issue for Prachi and her friends, who seem happy to speak candidly, not apparently caring about any potential reaction to soundbites such as, ‘Frankly, I hate Gandhi’. Personally, I found this made her a much more interesting character, compared to the pretty but bland Singh. About the sole startling revelation on this side of the cinematic equation was an almost casual admission that one contestant was almost aborted after her parents found out they were having a girl. Such is the contradiction of contemporary India, a society that in some ways is forging ahead, yet in others remains rooted in the past. The tension between these aspects has the potential to cause enormous issues as the country moves in to the future.

Dir: Nisha Pahuja

War Witch

★★★
“Definitely not Sabrina.”

This was originally titled Rebelle, perhaps a slightly better title than something that sounds as if it comes from a Norwegian death-metal album. Perhaps the change was to avoid confusion? A quick Google Images search for the original name shows you that was also the title for Brave in some territories. Safe to say, this is nothing like that. It’s the worthy, rather than anything else, tale of a young girl, Komona (Mwanza), who is kidnapped from her African village by anti-government forces at the age of 12, and forced to join their army. Her apparent supernatural ability to “see” government forces brings her to the attention of their leader, Great Tiger (Mwinga), who appoints her as his “war witch.” But on discovering the fate of the previous three appointees – a clue, they didn’t retire with full pensions – she deserts, along with an albino colleague, Magicien (Kanyinda). Their happiness is short-lived, as their commanding officer (Bastien) recaptures Komona and turns her into his concubine, right up until a nasty trick involving a piece of fruit and a razor-blade.warwitch

A few things stand out. Firstly, the casual approach to everyday violence, which seems to numb all those who perpetrate it, including Komona. But it can still be chilling, most notably Komona’s understated description of her uncle: “Every time he would cut the meat with his machete, it would remind him of what happened to his family… I will not tell you what happened to his family. Because, if I do, you won’t listen anymore.” Yikes. There’s also the way in which the supernatural permeates things, and no-one seems too bothered. As well as the whole “war witch” thing, which is as bizarre as Ronald Reagan using an astrologer, Komona sees the ghosts of her dead parents, and one of the reasons for deserting is so she can give them the proper burial and send them to rest. Magicien makes and carries “grigri”, talismans designed to protect him, and when he seeks a white rooster to offer as a dowry, the price of information on where to find it is one such amulet. Magic, it appears, is everywhere. As, apparently are albinos: I think there are more shown in this film than in every other movie I’ve ever seen, combined.

It’s very restrained on just about every level. In some ways that works, since it avoid the obvious histrionics you expect from the subject matter. But I have to say, I found Mwanza’s performance – or, rather, her non-performance – extremely flat and distancing. It’s hard to care about all the death on display, when it seems the central character is unbothered by it. Nguyen doesn’t explain some significant aspects either, such as the “coltan” which Great Tiger has his forces mine, is short for “columbite–tantalite”, an important ore used in electronics. Demand for this in the West is among the causes of conflict in the region. Would have been nice to find this out from the film, rather than Wikipedia. My over-riding reaction to the film was one of relief that I don’t live there, mixed with an appreciation for the the things we take for granted, like running water and a lack of roaming militia groups. This is a glimpse into another world; it’s just not one I have much interest in visiting again.

Dir: Kim Nguyen
Star: Rachel Mwanza, Serge Kanyinda, Alain Lino Mic Eli Bastien, Mizinga Mwinga

When Taekwondo Strikes

★★★½
“The Angela Strikes Back”

7242870.3There’s more than a hint of Hapkido here, with many of the same cast, and more less the same thirties setting, with Korea again laboring under the yoke of Japanese occupation, etc. Things kick off when Jin (Wong) seeks sanctuary from the occupying forces in a local Catholic church. The Japanese soldiers rush in, but get demolished by Uncle Li (Rhee), a rebel topping their wanted list who has been hiding out as the priest’s gardener. Jin and Li depart, along with the priest’s niece (Winton), but the priest himself remains, and is captured and tortured for information about Li’s whereabouts. Wang Lin Ching (Mao) is drawn in when Li asks her to check on the cleric, causing her to become targeted by the Japanese too. An attempt to rescue the priest goes wrong, ending with Li being captured, and the others having to flee Korea for mainland China. However, that may not be far enough, and when the Japanese figure out where they are, they us Li as bait to lure Wang and the others out of hiding.

Despite being considered the father of American Tae Kwon Do, and a good friend of Bruce Lee, this was Rhee’s only released film (rumors of another have been heard). Seems a bit of a shame, as he makes his presence felt here, particularly toward the end. For action heroine fans, the focus will naturally be on Mao, and we’ll get to her shortly. However, we shouldn’t forget Winton, also in her only film role, who makes an immediate impression as an martial arts trained nun  Going by her clothing, anyway; the film is kinda loose on Catholic ritual. Man, The Sound of Music would have been so much cooler, if Julie Andrews had only known kung-fu…

As for Mao, she has a couple of absolutely stellar fight scenes, including a church brawl [after the soldiers realize she isn’t Catholic, because she didn’t cross herself on entering!], a battle in a forest, and the final fight. However, in terms of her action, things perhaps peak when she returns to her family restaurant to find a long-haired Sammo Hung, playing a Japanese henchman, roughing up her mother, along with his goons. The last is embedded below – it should start at the correct time, but if not, 39:20 is where you want to be. I just love the way she casually flicks her pigtail round the back just before things kick off, as if to say, “I am serious Angela Mao. This is serious business.”

The one thing that stops the film from getting a seal of approval is a disappointing slump in the middle, after the (fairly lame) effort to rescue the priest. Nothing much happens for what feels like a good half-hour, and that’s a shame, since the action elsewhere is both copious and often excellent. Many fights are virtually the equal of any Bruce Lee film, not least because there are half a dozen excellent martial artists involved here, rather than Bruce being far and away the best. This adds a real sense of balance to proceedings, and if you’re looking for an introduction to the movies of Angela Mao, this is certainly recommended.

Dir: Huang Feng
Star: Angela Mao, Jhoon Rhee, Carter Wong, Anne Winton

Werewolf Woman

★★★
“Hungry like the wolf”

wolfwomanWhile there have been plenty of female vampires over the year, the number of female werewolves is a lot smaller. There’s the wonderful Ginger Snaps (and its not as wonderful sequels), the forgettable Cursed, TV series Bitten, and most infamously of all, Howling II: Your Sister Is a Werewolf.  However, perhaps the closest relative here is a little off to one side: the remake of Cat People, made by Paul Schrader in 1982. It is not dissimilar in tone and approach, both taking a firm, if somewhat hysterical psychosexual tone to proceedings, and Giorgio Moroder’s musical score sounds like the synthesized one here. Both have heroines whose transformations are triggered largely by sexual excitement, and who eventually find a man happy to love them for who they are – only for that happiness to be short-lived. Of course, this one being grindhouse, the reason for its abrupt termination is her boyfriend being stabbed to death while trying to stop her from being raped, which triggers a rampage of revenge that justifies its inclusion on this site.

But I’m getting ahead of myself here. It’s also a sexual assault which triggers the psychological problems for Daniela Neseri  (Borel). The psychological trauma and Daniela’s obsession with a family legend involving an ancestor who supposedly turned into a predatory animal, form a potent combination, and she develops a deeply-held belief that she also changes into a wolf at the full moon. That doesn’t appear to be the case, but it still brings tragedy down on the family, when Daniela gets all hot and bothered after seeing her sister (Lassander) making love to her husband. The resulting carnage get her committed to a psychiatric hospital by her aristocratic father (Carraro), only for Daniela to escape after an encounter with the facility’s local nymphomaniac. After some more brutal murders, which baffle the local police, she finally meets her soulmate, who works as a stuntman. And this takes us back to where this paragraph came in.

It’s pure exploitation cinema, not skimping at all on the nudity, and with a healthy amount of gore as well – what else would you expect from a director who, the same year, gave us Deported Women of the SS Special Section? This isn’t quite as sleazy, though certainly is not family viewing, and is well enough made to make for an interesting viewing experience for broad-minded spectators. Borel has a nicely lupine quality about her, and even if the transformation sequences [most notably the opening dream sequence] leaves a bit to be desired, the various elements – the heroine, her family, the cops who gradually realize the connection between the corpses – are tied together with a script that has had more effort put into it than you might think. They truly don’t make them like this any more.

Dir: Rino Di Silvestro
Star: Annik Borel, Howard Ross, Dagmar Lassander, Tino Carraro
a.k.a. La lupa Mannara or The Legend of the Wolf Woman

Winter’s Bone

★★★½
“A grim fairy-tale.”

Ashlee Thompson as Ashlee Dolly (left), Jennifer Lawrence as Ree Dolly (centre) and Isaiah Stone as Sonny Dolly (right)Not perhaps our traditional fare, but there’s a good case to be made for its inclusion, with a strong, single-minded heroine who is prepared to do whatever it takes, including putting herself at considerable risk, to keep her family together. Certainly, you can see why Lawrence went on to stardom, and knowing her subsequently as Katniss Everdeen makes going back to her breakthrough role interesting. For you can see echoes of Katniss’s steely determination in 17-year-old Ree Dolly, trying to cope with a mentally-ill mother, two young siblings and an absent father. She’s just about coping, until she discovers that her father has skipped out on an impending court date for cooking meth, and put up the family home as collateral for his bail bond. If Ree can’t track him down, the bail company will be able to seize the family’s property and turf them out. Tracking him down is going to require Ree poking her nose into some very unpleasant corners of rural Missouri, where some intimidating characters have good reason for the missing man to remain that way.

It’s a disturbing glimpse into a world that seems barely part of America. I haven’t been so unsettled by a film’s location for a long time – the only comparable movie I can think of, is the East European gypsy slum in Import/Export, which looked more like a bomb site than a functioning residential area.  Outside the natural surroundings of the Ozark Mountains, beauty is rare here; happiness, even rarer: survival is a full-time occupation, leaving no time for anything else. Outside of Ree, and her young sister and brother, who are too little to know different, there is hardly anything approaching a sympathetic character here. They virtually all pose a threat of some kind to Ree’s mission, and she has to navigate her way through them as if they were wolf-infested woods, knowing the right time to push, and the right time to back down. Except, even Ree isn’t fallible, which is how she ends up on the floor of a barn, beaten to a bloody pulp. Yet that’s when help arrives, from an unexpected source, and I guess, almost everyone lives happily after. Or as happy as possible, given the circumstances.

Lawrence is great, convincing and sympathetic, resilient and focused, a heroine who is credible without being incredible. Indeed, all the performances hit the required spots, to a degree where you wonder if Granik simply put out a casting call for meth dealers. However, the script isn’t as convincing, relying too much on people who have behaved one way, suddenly switching tack, for no obviously apparent reason beyond it being necessary for them to do so. It’s not exactly light entertainment either, and if you’re expecting flashy set-pieces, definitely look elsewhere. Falls more into the category of films which are to be respected, rather than enjoyed, yet Lawrence’s portrayal takes the viewer along, on a trip into the heart of Missouri darkness.

Dir: Debra Granik
Star: Jennifer Lawrence, John Hawkes, Lauren Sweetser, Garret Dillahunt

Warrior Princess

★½
“Putting the “que?” in ‘Mongolian barbeque’…”

warriorprincessOh, dear. This spectacular misfire looks nice, with some good cinematography, pretty landscapes and occasionally decent action sequences (though let’s just mention, I doubt the equines here performed under the supervision of the American Humane Association). But the script. I say again: oh, dear. It’s a complete mess, with no sense of narrative flow, peppered with jumps like “eight years later”, and heavily populated with messengers breathlessly rushing it to deliver account of actions off-screen, that typically sound a damn sight more interesting than what’s actually depicted.

The heroine is Ahno (Davaasuren), a princess who falls for a nomadic priest, Galdan (Mondoon). Initially, his vows of celibacy prevent anything from happening, but after his brother is killed (cue the breathless messenger), Galdan takes over as leader, which conveniently allows him to forgo the whole celibacy thing and marry Ahno, who had been betrothed to the brother by her father despite her love for Galdan. However, it’s not long before their relationship is strained, with Ahno torn between duty to her husband and Dad, who are both jostling for position in the power structure of late 17th-century Mongolia. Not helping matters is the Chinese emperor, lurking in the wings and saying ominous things such as, “May one wolf devour the other.” Eventually – and I mean after you’ve endured leaden dialogue such as, “Why would you say something like that to me, knowing it could mean the destruction of my relationship with my nephew?” – this leads to a battle, where Ahno finally straps on her gear. Because the “warrior” part of the title has basically been AWOL, since she accidentally fired an arrow at Galdan, in basically the opening scene of the film.

Part of the problem is my unfortunate decision to watch this in a dubbed version, which rarely helps and can fatally wound even great movies e.g. try watching the English dub of Heroic Trio [no, please don’t]. That can’t explain the horrendous approach to story-telling: it wouldn’t have surprised me to discover the movie originally ran three-plus hours. and was edited down to 95 minutes for a Western audience. While I’ve found nothing to say that was the case, it gives you an idea of what to expect: scenes have no connection to those that precede or follow them, sometimes ending in fade outs that give the impression of a bad TV movie. Maybe it makes more sense to a local audience, since Ahno, who was a real historical figure, is apparently a bit of a national heroine, a la Joan of Arc.

Technically, it is actually slick, and as background viewing it might reach two stars, providing you are not expecting actual warrior princessing of the Xenaesque kind. However, it’s telling that, while I generally use movie watching as an excuse to put off running on our treadmill, in this case I ended up embracing the treadmilling enthusiastically, rather than having to give the film my full attention. Watch Myn Bala instead, if you want a central Asian historical epic.

Dir: Shuudertsetseg Baatarsuren
Star: Otgonjargal Davaasuren, Myagmarnaran Gombo, Myagmar Mondoon, Bayarmagnai Yeguzer

Warrioress

★★★
“Cecily, Warrior Princess”

warrioriessThis is one I’ve been aware of since as far back as 2010, but it seemed to have been lost in post-production hell, so I was surprised to see this had finally got a release, coming out on DVD in its home territory of the UK last May. It’s one of those films where you need to know, going in, that this is not a slick Hollywood blockbuster with massive production values, and instead is clearly a work of love for those involved, doing their best with limited resources. In fact, I can’t really do better in setting those expectations than another review, which said the film was, “Best described as ‘Xena filmed on a Doctor Who-circa-1980 budget by way of a Robin of Sherwood LARPing weekend'”. I can’t really improve much on that, though would perhaps add, “Set on Steampunk Sunday at your local Renaissance Festival.”

The story is triggered by a prophecy, which sees Boudiccu (Fey) first win custody of a pair of legendary weapons, then journey through a post-apocalyptic landscape, where humanity has largely reverted to tribal savagery. However, the crypto-fascist Falonex clan still appear to have a handle on some old-school technology and appear to be massing to establish their dominance. On the way to the prophesied location, where she will face another warrioress in a battle which will hopefully lead to a champion rising who can defeat the Falonex, Boudiccu is joined by White Arrow (Simpson), who is seeking revenge on those who killed her family. Or something. They have to fend off attacks, share flashback sequences and, eventually, have a twist revealed in their relationship that should come as absolutely no surprise to anyone paying attention.

What works? Simple: the action, led by Fay. She’s a tiny thing – 4’9″! – yet it’s entirely convincing, because the style of her fights don’t show her using strength and power to beat her opponents (which would be implausible), they instead emphasize skill, quickness and agility, which she has in spades. Credit, too, for Boyask, who consciously avoids the rapid-fire style of editing, knowing that the best thing he can do with a talent like Fay, is point the camera in her direction, then let her get on with it. [Sometimes, knowing not to do anything is more important than trying to do it] There’s a battle, not long after Boudiccu leaves her village, in which she takes on half-a-dozen other women, which is just glorious: it’s probably the best action heroine sequence ever to come out of the UK. But therein lies a problem, in that nothing during the hour thereafter is as great: good, sure, sometimes very good, but the final battle in particular feels like a letdown.

What doesn’t work? Sadly, way too much of the stuff between the fights, which feels like a slapdash grabbing of elements lifted from elsewhere, lobbed into a storyline which might just about have passed muster on a wet Sunday at my college D&D society. The efforts at generating any kind of broad, post-apocalyptic landscape are feeble, particularly the Falonex, who are represented by a ropey CGI backdrop and the interior of a single tent, which does not succeed in making them the kind of global threat they are supposed to be, especially since their scenes are play largely for laughs. But what’s really missing from the dialogue and performances, is any sense of intensity. They’re purely functional, intended to get the story from A to B (where A and B are almost certainly fight scenes). It’s clear from the action scenes, everyone involved had a passion for what they were doing there. Unfortunately, that passion is absent from everywhere else, and weakens the overall product to an extent that many will be unable to look past the flaws, and appreciate the positive attributes to be found here.

Dir: Ross Boyask
Star: Cecily Fay, Joelle Simpson, Christian Howard, Merrilees Fay Harris

Wild

wild★★★
“Wild at heart”

While certainly not your typical action-heroine film, it’s hard to argue this falls outside our broader remit: movies about strong, independent women who strive physically to overcome the odds, even if in this case their opponent is more internal than anything. Witherspoon and Dern both find themselves nominated for Oscars thanks to their performances here, and it’s the kind of obvious portrayals that the Academy loves. A woman, Cheryl (Witherspoon) spirals down into a morass of depression, casual sex and drug addiction after losing her mother (Dern) to cancer, only to find herself while walking eleven hundred miles up the Pacific Crest Trail from the Mojave up to Washington State.

It’s a deliberately fractured narrative, beginning with Cheryl’s removal of a damaged toenail, then dropping back in time to her arrival at the motel from where she’ll start her hike, with here aim being “to walk myself back to the woman my mother thought I was.” Immediately, her unsuitability for the trek is apparent, as she can barely lift her pack, and she manages only a couple of miles the first day and contemplates quitting. She perseveres, and as she marches on, remembers at semi-random, incidents from her life that brought Cheryl to this point: her divorce, shared moments with her mother before the diagnosis, etc.

I found the literal journey more interesting than the (likely too obvious) metaphorical one, perhaps because it has some personal resonance. Back at college, I set off on an overly-ambitious month-long solo trek around Europe, having never been outside the country before. I almost packed it in the first night, when my carefully-planned accommodation in Denmark fell through. But I persevered too, and it turned into one of the best months of my life, so I can relate to the transforming power of independent travel. On the way, she meets people good and bad, has experiences both miserable and ecstatic, and achieves a goal that’s much about the journey as the final destination. It’s beautifully shot, capturing the loneliness and splendour of the great outdoors, though never shies away from the negative aspects: I’m not sure if I finished the film with a desire to hike the PCT, or having crossed it firmly off my bucket list. Likely the latter, for we do not camp well. Our idea of “roughing it” involves a hotel which does not offer free wi-fi, so the prospect of having to filter water from a fly-blown puddle to survive is kinda deal-breaking.

There’s no doubt Witherspoon goes for it, putting everything out there on a project which appears to have been a labour of love for the actress. But I found Cheryl a largely unlikeable character, one whose problems are almost entirely of her own making, which left me struggling to empathize. Admittedly, I’ve been fortunate enough never to have to endure the loss of a loved one, with all my immediate relations still very much alive, so I can only imagine the impact it might have. This is where that fractured narrative perhaps works against the film, since there’s little sense of X leading to Y. One second, Cheryl is negotiating a tricky stretch of terrain; the next, she’s shooting up heroin in a dingy motel room. Obviously, it’s all connected, and I certainly respect the performance, yet this never fully engaged me as I hoped.

Dir: Jean-Marc Vallée
Star: Reese Witherspoon, Laura Dern, Thomas Sadoski, Keene McRae

Wonder Women

★★★½
“On Her Insurance Company’s Secret Service”

wonderwomenRoger Corman’s New World Pictures weren’t the only ones using the Philippines as a factory to churn out B-movies in the seventies, as this 1973 entry, from Arthur Marks’ General Film Corproration shows. Dr. Tsu (Kwan) and her posse of henchwomen are kidnapping athletes, the not-so-good doctor having perfected the ability to do brain transplants. She’s now selling this as a service to rich, old people, who can become young again. However, after kidnapping a jai-alai star, the insurance company on the hook for the half million dollar policy hires Mike Harber (Hagen) to investigate. As he starts nosing around and making waves, first the local gangster boss, then Dr. Tsu, send their minions out to stop him. Needless to say, this is of limited success, and he is soon on his way to the remote island where Tsu operates, to take down her operation.

If this feels like a low-budget Bond ripoff, you’re just about right on the money, down to the “let me tell you all my plans before I kill you” scene – at one point, I expected Tsu to yell, “No, Mr. Harber – I expect you to die!” But it is highly refreshing to have a female mastermind, especially one that excels in the areas of medicine and technology, traditionally a male evil overlord preserve: I’m hard pushed to think of any equals of Dr. Tsu, particularly from the era. Maybe the closest parallel would be Rosalba Neri, in Lady Frankenstein from two years earlier? Back that up with her multinationa, all-female associates and she’s definitely decades ahead of her time, socially as well as technologically. In comparison, Harber comes over as a bit of a Neanderthal, whose solution for pretty much everything involves shooting at it, hitting it over the head – or occasionally hitting it over the head with his gun.

In the supporting cast, de Aragorn gets the best role, as lead henchperson Linda, who gets to brawl with Harber, destroying a hotel room, before leading him in a car chase through the streets of Manilla – again, something you didn’t see women doing very often at all in the 1970’s. And it’s a heck of a chase, with any number of moments that suggest the makers pretty much blew off niceties like closing streets or obtaining official sanction for the sequence, and just shot around whatever happened to be going on. Mention also due to cult veteran Sid Haig, who shows up as what appears to be Dr. Tsu’s accountant, and decides at the end to get out while the going is good, after another quirky character performance. Accompanied by Carson Whitsett’s funky score, the net result is something that’s not actually much, if at all, less fun than the same year’s Live and Let Die, and treads a nice line between self-parody and self-aware.

Dir: Robert O’Neill
Star: Ross Hagen, Nancy Kwan, Maria de Aragorn, Roberta Collins
a.k.a. The Deadly and the Beautiful