Showing posts with label Three-Star Reviews. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Three-Star Reviews. Show all posts

Thursday, 23 July 2026

The Odyssey | review by Rafe McGregor

Faithful but flawed.


Very little is known about Homer other than that he was Greek, probably born in the eighth century BCE, and inaugurated European literary heritage with the Iliad and its sequel, the Odyssey, a pair of epic poems about the Trojan War. The war itself, which has been dated to the collapse of the Bronze Age in the twelfth century BCE, and Homer’s authorship are disputed, the latter a result of the poems being the product or an oral rather than written tradition. Like the Iliad, which I discussed in my review of Wolfgang Petersen’s Troy (2004), the Odyssey consists of twenty-four divisions (later, ‘books’ or chapters) composed in dactylic hexameter. Where the Iliad tells the story of the fall of Troy, of the Achaean (Greek) victory in the Trojan War courtesy of King Odysseus of Ithaca’s cunning ploy with the Trojan horse, the Odyssey, literally ‘the story of Odysseus’, tells the tale of Odysseus’ homecoming which, like the war itself, takes ten years. The journey turns into an odyssey due to the combination of the god Poseidon’s wrath, the recklessness of Odysseus’ men, and his own vices and while he is away his wife, Penelope, and son, Telemachus, must deal with a host of parasitical ‘suitors’ who want to instal themselves as King of Ithaca by marrying Penelope. Where the Iliad is a very different type of narrative to those with which we are now familiar, the Odyssey has many recognisable literary features, including the use of flashbacks and changes in narration. Although the gods play an important role, there is also a sense in which Odysseus is clearly the protagonist, with his agency driving the sequence of events that unfolds. Similarly, the diffusion of narrative focus among Odysseus, Telemachus, and Penelope is much more modern than the Iliad’s emphasis on heroes and kings and it is not difficult to discern a prototypical contemporary novel in the poem. This is probably why I enjoyed it so much when I first read it, unlike the Iliad, and why it is usually evaluated as superior to the Iliad by literary scholars.

The main problem with filming the Odyssey is, of course, the decade long sequence of events represented. If one counts only live action films that retain the original setting, there have been four cinematic adaptations to date. The first was The Odyssey (L’Odissea, 1911), a short, silent Italian film directed by Francesco Bertolini, Adolfo Padovan, and Giuseppe De Liguoro and released seven months after the first cinematic adaptation of the Iliad. The second, Ulysses (Ulisse, 1954), and third, Nostos: The Return (Nostos: Il ritorno, 1989) were also Italian and were directed by Mario Camerini and Franco Piavoli respectively, with Kirk Douglas playing the lead in the former. There must be something about Homer’s epics and Italy, perhaps a throwback to the popularity of the ‘sword and sandal’ genre in the country in the nineteen fifties and sixties, because the fourth is a joint Italian, Greek, and British production. The Return (2024) was directed by Uberto Pasolini and starred Ralph Fiennes and Juliette Binoche in the lead roles. I liked The Return a lot, though I was disappointed when I realised that the film was going to focus exclusively on the events following Odysseus’ arrival in Ithaca. When I heard that Christopher Nolan would be directing The Odyssey, I must admit my heart sank. Nolan is famous or, perhaps more accurately, notorious for experimenting with chronology and temporality and has produced masterpieces like Memento (2000) by tinkering with time in ingenious ways. More recently, his experimentation has either been pointless (I’m thinking of Dunkirk in 2017 and Oppenheimer in 2023, both of which are historical) or entirely over the top (whatever it was Tenet was supposed to be in 2020). The fact that Nolan would be adapting a narrative that was itself achronological did not bode well and seemed like it might be a recipe for disaster.

I’m pleased to say that my fears were entirely unfounded, with Nolan creating a largely faithful adaptation of Homer’s original that includes most of all twenty-four parts in roughly the same order. The only major characters missing, as far as I can tell on a single viewing, are Nestor, Nausicaa, and Laertes, none of whose absence detracts from the storytelling. On the note of character, while the casting is not as good as Troy’s, it works much better than I anticipated, although the best acting is by Samantha Morton (playing Circe) and Charlize Theron (playing Calypso) rather than any of the three leads. My only quibble in this regard is the retention of American accents and contemporary American vernacular. Telemachus (played by Tom Holland) calling Odysseus (played by Matt Damon) ‘dad’ did not assist my suspension of disbelief and made me feel like I was watching a sitcom rather than one of the oldest stories ever. Remaining faithful to the original brings challenges of its own, however, the first and most obvious being running time and the film is just under three hours long. No one left the theatre nor did I get the feeling that the audience was restless by the end so Nolan appears to have succeeded here, combatting decreasing attention spans with compelling cinematic art in which both cinematography and sound reward viewing on the big screen. Second, the number of books included means that some scenes are very compressed and the following suffer for it: the Laestrygonians, the Sirens, Scylla and Charybdis, and the cattle of Helios. Two other scenes are badly handled without screen time being the issue. The first, near the beginning, is the strangely sexless Cyclops (played by Bill Irwin), who is more funny than frightening, and the second and most disappointing, the slaughter of the suitors in the hall, which is represented with considerably less skill than in The Return (and is, unfortunately, the climax of the narrative for both Homer and Nolan).

Such is The Odyssey for those who are familiar with the original. How, then, has Nolan made it his own? While he doesn’t play with Homer’s chronology (at least to any significant extent), he does include one of his trademark twists in the tale, albeit indirectly related to time in this instance. The repeated mention of raiders from the sea is a leitmotif that feeds very nicely into the theme of this adaptation. Where one might regard Homer’s poem as being primarily about homecoming and family, Nolan’s film is about a great warrior who comes to realise the folly of war and regret the role he has played in destroying a city, a civilisation, and a culture (there are repeated flashbacks to the fall of Troy). Odysseus’ odyssey is as much psychological as physical, the recognition that he does not want to return to Penelope (played by Anne Hathaway) as the same man who left her. With this in mind, Nolan’s new conclusion to the story works particularly well, providing a very satisfying narrative closure following the disappointing struggle with the suitors. Can Nolan’s The Odyssey be watched as a sequel to Petersen’s Troy? Yes, I think so. Nolan makes various nods to Petersen in his adaptation and while The Odyssey is a tale with more gods, more grit, and less glamour than Troy, the originals are themselves very different and the films provide a complementary contrast to one another as the respective stories of Achilles and Odysseus, of setting out for martial glory and coming back to live with its consequences.***

 

Tuesday, 21 April 2026

Twilight by Stephenie Meyer (Little, Brown Books for Young Readers) | review by Douglas J. Ogurek

He’s wealthy, attentive, protective, and attractive. Cha-ching!

I’m tired of vampires and werewolves. I’m not big on first-person narration. I’m not even in the right audience for this one. But I had to do it. I had to go back and read the books that inspired a cultural phenomenon thanks to the 2008 film Twilight and its offspring. 

It all started with Stephenie Meyer’s 2005 novel of the same name that sank its teeth into the YA market. Alongside narrator Isabella “Bella” Swan, we travel to Forks, Washington, where we meet the mysterious vampire Edward Cullen and bear witness as they fall in love. 

When Bella inadvertently crosses paths with another vampire with no compunctions about cracking open a nice human neck, she becomes the target of an unrelenting hunter. And Edward and his family will do everything within their formidable power to protect her.

The novel also introduces Jacob Black, whose Native American tribe in nearby La Push has a severe distrust of the Cullens. Thus begins the series-long rivalry between Jacob and Edward. They’re both strong. They’re both attractive. And they both want to protect an aimless young lady. For many, that’s an irresistible combination. 

One of Meyer’s most potent strengths is on display early in the novel. She plays up Edward’s peculiarity, compounded by his initial revulsion towards Bella. Beyond that, the Cullen family’s sharp contrast from their fellow Forks High students is something to behold. 

Unfortunately, however, Edward needs to be fleshed out as the novel progresses. A hefty chunk of the book details Edward and Bella getting to know each other. They talk at school, at her house, at his house, in cars, in a field. All this “I’ll love you forever” talk even after being together for a week or so starts to grow wearisome for some audiences. 

Again, I understand the fascination with the competition for Bella and with Edward: his godlike presence (even a waitress rouses Bella’s jealousy), his speed and strength, his multiple talents, and the attention he showers on Bella. Nevertheless, there came a point at which I thought to myself, If I have to read about another young man pushing a stray lock of hair behind Bella’s ear or how good Edward smells, I’m going to throw up. 

Here’s the big secret about the entire Twilight series and its heroine: despite the excitement of everything happening around her, Bella is rather average (with some exceptions). And maybe that makes sense – maybe it helps more people identify with her. Douglas J. Ogurek ***

Sunday, 4 January 2026

Best of Luck by Jason Mott (Amazon Original Stories) | review by Douglas J. Ogurek

Strong pacing and redundancy collide in creature feature story exploring friendship and power structures.

“Best of Luck”, the fifth offering in Amazon’s six-story creature feature series written by bestselling authors, revolves around two friends. Will holds Barry at gunpoint for a reason that author Jason Mott gradually reveals. 

The story tends to prolong philosophical arguments and repeat the same ideas ad nauseum. Another shortcoming: conceptually, it’s not all that memorable. 

On a more positive note, “Best of Luck” builds tension by dropping key information at an impressively patient pace. Initially, the story refrains from divulging the source of the confrontation. It plops in nuggets about Will’s backstory and this mysterious Henry that he keeps mentioning until an ineffective plot twist provides answers. 

“Best of Luck”, a commentary on societal power structures, explores the concepts of passing privilege on to the next generation and gaining and maintaining power at the expense of others. Douglas J. Ogurek ***


Friday, 19 September 2025

Dating After the End of the World by Jeneva Rose (Montlake) | review by Stephen Theaker

Amazon Prime subscribers currently get at least one book free to own each month, sometimes two. I tended to claim but not read them, but they have started to include more novellas and short stories, and that has led me to read outside my usual genres, which I appreciate. One thing immediately obvious to anyone looking at Amazon First Reads is that the books on offer are virtually all by female writers, and aimed at female readers, with female protagonists. One can only assume Amazon follows the data in that respect, which is interesting.

This book fits that pattern, but that’s not to say male readers can’t enjoy it too. I did, to a certain extent. It begins with a scene in September 2009, when our Wisconsinite protagonist was thirteen years old and getting fed up with her doomsday prepper dad. They are building a perimeter fence but Casey would rather be having fun. She’s getting bullied at school by kids who think her dad is weird – and you know what, she thinks he’s weird too. Skip forward to 2025 and Casey is Dr Warner, working in a hospital, and not talking to her dad very often.

Friday, 8 August 2025

The God of Wanking by Peter Caffrey | review by Stephen Theaker

In August 2024 I attended a free one-day convention organised by Indie Horror Chapter in Birmingham, a gathering of self-published authors getting together to sell books, do readings and make friends. One of the most eye-catching tables was that of Peter Caffrey, whose books stood out thanks to their bright colours, striking designs and memorable titles. Here was an author clearly doing his own thing, not trying to mimic mainstream horror, carving out a very specific niche. You probably won’t see Whores Versus Sex Robots and Other Sordid Tales of Erotic Automatons on sale in Waterstones.

The God of Wanking – and titles don’t come much more attention-grabbing than that! – is a short novel first published in 2021. Our protagonist is Diego, who attends a strict catholic school in a village that would seem to be in Central or South America. It wasn’t clear which, but the power of the Catholic church there appears to be totally unbridled – we see them snatching people off the street. When the book takes place was also unclear, but the villagers have televisions and don’t have mobile phones, which gives some idea.

Saturday, 2 August 2025

Dangerous Animals | review by Rafe McGregor

Dangerous Animals, by Sean Byrne (Independent Film Company)

Tucker's shark experience!

Poster

In my birthday wishes to Jaws' (1975) Bruce, I mentioned the host of terrible Sharksploitation movies I've watched since reviewing The Meg (2018), listed the lowlights, and noted two films of which I was sceptical in spite of the advance praise they had received. I've now watched both Fear Below (2025) and Dangerous Animals and can attest to the accuracy of my preconceptions about the former, which is indeed similar to Into the Deep (2025), with its well-deserved 27% on the Tomatometer. I won't say much about it here, except that I didn't think the shark very realistic and that sharks in rivers just aren't as frightening as sharks in the ocean, a pair of problems plaguing Under Paris (2024), entirely undeserving of its 66% on the Tomatometer. My reservations about Dangerous Animals were based on the trailer, which I summarised rather meanly (albeit, again, accurately) as an eye-rolling 'shark plus serial killer'. My point being… surely one is enough for a ninety-eight-minute film? Whenever I watch what is essentially a monster movie, I'm reminded of The Ghost and The Darkness (1996), a fictionalised account of the 'Tsavo man-eaters' in colonial Kenya in 1898. While the film is yet another example of the tired old trope of (hu)man versus nature, director Stephen Hopkins is surprisingly successful in making two 'normal' lions a source of suspense and fear – as Sherlock Holmes might have said, 'no dinosaurs need apply' (the first two instalments of the Jurassic Park franchise were released in 1993 and 1997 respectively).

The dangerous animal of this title is of course the serial killer, Tucker (played by Jai Courtney), not the shark(s) and what redeems it from being yet more chum to the maw (with apologies to Mark Bould) of Sharksploitation enthusiasts like me is that we don't see sharks very often and when we do, they are all real (as far as I can tell, anyway) until the last ten minutes. When a CGI shark does appear, it is convincing rather than cartoonish, which may well be because of the speed with which it disappears. We don't have to see sharks all the time to be scared and less is often more (as we know from M.R. James, among many other masters of the craft of horror fiction). So, yes, in its finest moments the film reminded me of Jaws, where the only flaw is when Bruce is revealed as a creature of fibreglass and steel rather than flesh and bone. Unlike Jaws, Dangerous Animals lacks sympathetic characters. Tucker himself is probably the most charismatic, but he does like to kidnap pairs of bikini-clad beauties and videotape one being fed to sharks in front of the other. (Actual VHS, not digital – no wonder he has issues!) It is also rather predictable. Very early on, I guessed that Tucker would be eaten by sharks and that the love interest, Moses (played by Josh Heuston), would not rescue the protagonist, Zephyr (Hassie Harrison), at least one of which came to pass. Notwithstanding, the film was much better than expected and one of the best Sharksploitation films I've seen. But if Zephyr thinks that Australia's Gold Coast is 'as far away from America as possible' she really needs to install Google Maps or ChatGPT on her smartphone (it's Mauritius or Madagascar, in case you're wondering). ***

Sunday, 27 July 2025

The Blood-Drenched Honeycomb by Leo X. Robertson (Close to the Bone) | reviewed by Stephen Theaker

Liam Munhoz is an insanely attractive young man, twenty years old, from Maywood, the third smallest city in LA County. Reserved in some ways, only showing his real self to people he considers authentic, he is expansive in others, having participated in bisexual college orgies to the very best of his ability. He was brought from LA to Palo Alto in a bullet train, an entire business class carriage hired out for him.

The man waiting for him is Ryan Hobbes, an extremely rich and extremely weird older guy, obsessed with his health, who sleeps all day and stays up all night, to avoid the sun’s harmful rays. He’s also extremely famous, to the point that you can buy Halloween costumes spoofing him, labelled “non-binary vampire tech billionaire with an eating disorder”. He’s a riff on Bryan Johnson, Elon Musk, and chaps like that.

Monday, 21 July 2025

Jurassic World: Rebirth | review by Rafe McGregor

Jurassic World: Rebirth, by Gareth Edwards (Universal Pictures)

Three times three?

Jurassic World Rebirth is the seventh instalment in the Jurassic Park/World franchise that was launched by Steven Spielberg twenty-two years ago (excluding animated and short films). The previous instalments can be divided into two trilogies, with the second being a continuation of the first and the fictional chronology following the years in which each film was released (as far as I can tell). I shall recap the events of the franchise so far as Jurassic World: Rebirth plunges us directly into them and may well be the first of a third trilogy that is a further continuation (rather than remake, reboot, or retcon), though it is (of course) advertised as a “standalone” story.

The premise of Jurassic Park (1993) is that dinosaurs have been de-extincted by means of cloning and a theme park (“safari park” would be more accurate for UK readers) established on a fictional island called Isla Nublar, off the coast of Costa Rica. What could possibly go wrong? Lots… and everything that could go wrong does, in consequence of which the island is abandoned by its human visitors. In The Lost World: Jurassic Park (1997) dinosaurs are discovered on the neighbouring island of Isla Sorna, which was where the original cloning was done before it was abandoned following a hurricane. (We now have two abandoned islands full of dinosaurs.) An ill-considered plan to transport a Tyrannosaurus rex to a zoo in San Diego goes wrong (who would’ve guessed) and after rampaging around the city it is returned to the island, which is declared a protected nature reserve. Jurassic Park III (2001) is essentially a rescue mission: ignoring national and international law (as they do), some rich folk undertake an illegal air safari of Isla Sorna, crash, and get bailed out by mum, dad, and some hired hands.

Jurassic World (2015) has exactly the same plot as Jurassic Park: a new multinational corporation acquires the rights to build a safari park on Isla Nublar, but have “improved” on the original by creating a new and very nasty dinosaur called an Indominus rex by means of transgenesis. What could possibly go wrong? Everything that did in the first film and this one ends in the same way, with humanity abandoning the same island for the second time. In between Jurassic World and Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom (2018), a mercenary unit arrives on the island and succeeds in collecting an Indominus rex DNA sample (I wonder where this is going). The fifth film begins with the island about to be destroyed by a volcanic eruption and the protagonists are hired by the antagonist to launch a private rescue attempt, not realising that the relocated dinosaurs are going to be sold at an auction (those rich folk don’t get that rich by being nice). The rescued dinosaurs escape from their cages, enter the Northern California wilderness, and usher in a new era in which humans, animals, and dinosaurs are all going to have to coexist. Jurassic World: Dominion (2022) has a broadly similar plot to Jurassic Park III, being in essence a rescue mission, this time rescuing the first and only cloned human child from another multinational corporation and the dinosaurs it keeps in the Dolomite Mountains. As far as the fictional world of the franchise goes, little has changed as dinosaurs are still roaming, swimming and flying around the place like any other animal, fish, or bird.

I didn’t come to Jurassic World Rebirth with any great expectations. As I mentioned in my birthday wishes to Jaws’ (1975) Bruce, the sheer number of animals slaughtered onscreen in my lifetime is wearing me down and Scarlett Johanssen’s offscreen persona hasn’t exactly endeared itself to me (as Hollywood’s highest-grossing star my news feed is unfortunately full of her). I was also surprised to see that none of the previous casts were reappearing. The protagonists of the first trilogy were palaeontologist Alan Grant (played by Sam Neill) and mathematician Ian Malcolm (played by Jeff Goldblum), who appeared in five of the first six films between them. The second trilogy introduced the on-and-off couple Owen Grady (played by Chris Pratt), an ethologist (aka Velociraptor-wrangler), and Claire Dearing (played by Bryce Dallas Howard), a corporate slavedriver turned dinosaur activist. The protagonists of Jurassic World Rebirth are Zora Bennett (played by Johansson), a mercenary action hero, and… well, just Zora Bennett (because you don’t get to be Hollywood’s best-paid star by sharing the limelight).

Following a prelude where another mutated dinosaur (Distortus rex) wreaks havoc on another fictional island (ÃŽle Saint-Hubert, in the Atlantic Ocean) that (also) has to be abandoned, the narrative opens with the Earth’s climate threatening to return the dinosaurs to extinction, in consequence of which they have all migrated to the equatorial regions of the globe. For once, somebody has done something sensible and designated these no-travel areas. The antagonist, Martin Krebs (played by Rupert Friend) hires Bennett and her team to take DNA samples from the three largest living dinosaurs – Mosasaurus (sea), Titanosaurus (land) and Quetzalcoatlus (air) – for the purposes of making trillions of dollars from a cure for heart disease. The first indication that the film might be a pleasant surprise was that the DNA has to be retrieved from live dinosaurs and, indeed, the mercenary team very quickly loses all of its weapons, making most of the blood spilled in the story human. At the same time as Bennett, Krebs and their entourage begin their mission, an idiotic father of two, Reuben Delgado (played by Manuel Garcia-Rulfo, Netflix’s Lincoln Lawyer), is sailing his daughters and one of their boyfriends across the Atlantic in his yacht (an Atlantic swarming with literal sea monsters, I should add)… and everyone ends up on ÃŽle Saint-Hubert.

In addition to limiting the lizard slaughter, the three-part mission to acquire DNA over sea, land and air works very well, providing the narrative with a neat structure, broad scope, and organic signposting. The story also pays homage to the original Jurassic Park in at least two scenes, a Tyrannosaurus rex river chase and the final climatic battle at the abandoned laboratory complex, one of which works well and the other of which doesn’t. Segue to my only two criticisms, the opening and that climactic battle. In the former, the entire complex’s security system is destroyed by an empty Snickers wrapper. A complex that is not only containing dinosaurs, but creating nastier ones for human entertainment… I hope somebody somewhere got sued. The other let down is the Distortus rex itself. It inspires pity rather than fear and is so stupid and so slow that its survival on the island before the arrival of Bennett, Delgado and the rest seems highly unlikely. Having said that, while Jurassic Park: Rebirth may not reach the heights of the original film – perhaps even the first two films – it’s definitely as good or better than the rest. It’s also already well on the way to grossing a billion dollars so I guess we might just see Bennett back for two more instalments. ***

Sunday, 13 July 2025

The Hamlet by Joanna Corrance (NewCon Press) | review by Stephen Theaker

The Hamlet is a fairly good mosaic novella, telling a series of stories about the people in a small rural community in Scotland, close to a stony beach but not too far away from a city. It used to be quite a nice place to live, but then things got “strange” – that’s the word everyone uses to describe it. There are various theories – the end of the world, a passing comet, a great unravelling – but no one is quite sure what happened.

Whatever it was, it happened in early spring. Everyone was told to get inside their homes and stay there for the indefinite future, very much like the Covid lockdowns. Supermarkets and local shops still deliver food, but in armoured vans, and sometimes the drivers go missing, the vans abandoned. The bins aren’t being collected, the police don’t answer calls, and there are roadblocks everywhere.

There’s still electricity and running water, because at least some essential workers still go out to work, but it’s risky out there. And as we learn in this set of stories, it’s risky indoors too. After a very brief introductory chapter about the day of the lockdown, we move from house to house, to see what strangeness is happening in each.

The stories overlap, with hints in each followed up in others, which was satisfying in some ways, in that mysteries are being solved, but it also meant that by the time we encountered some things first-hand, from the point of view of those directly involved, the shock of the weird had often been dulled by prior exposure.

That might be why the first proper story (or second chapter, if you like) “Down the Drain” was the most effective for me, because after its protagonist Beth leaves her filthy house by way of a newly broken (and strangely expansive) pipe, she dips her head into other houses, giving us a dose of concentrated weirdness. One could easily imagine a Junji Ito adaptation.

After that we learn about Polly, a neglected little girl with a big imagination; wannabe influencer Helen, whose uploads get ever more barmy; Eve, who becomes a lodger in the house she rents out to creepy Matthew; Robyn, a frustrated artist who gets way too into dollhouses; and Jeanie, whose charmed life seems to have run out of luck.

A short final chapter, set much later than the rest, bookends the novella, answers some questions, and provides a final twist or two. By that point, it felt like a good place to stop. Not because it’s a bad book, but because it had played all its cards, some of them too soon. And maybe it was all a bit too random for me: if anything at all can happen at any time, the characters’ decisions count for little. ***

Saturday, 28 June 2025

Rowany de Vere and a Fair Degree of Frost by Chaz Brenchley (NewCon Press) | review by Stephen Theaker

Rowany Angelica Marten de Vere was born on Mars, and although the gravity on her version of Mars isn’t as light as in our universe, she would be considered unusually tall on Earth. She spent seven happy years at a Martian boarding school, the Crater School, which looks like a castle and features in the author’s novel Three Twins at the Crater School and its sequels. Now, at the age of twenty-three, she is ready for her first mission as a member of the Colonial Service. The mission is Mr Leontov, a Russian chap who spent time on Venus – now Russia’s new Siberia – and is now looking for safety in the Red Raj. Rowany has to scoot him away before Russian agents close in.

Once they set off, the book is basically one long chase, that involves ice skating over the frozen Martian canals, visiting a frost fair, eating hot chestnuts, dodging bullets, riding in steam trains, and being chased by an airship. Mars is a dangerous world, even now that about half its inhabitants live in cities, but it has bred tough, watchful, self-reliant people full of frontier spirit. Having said that, I didn’t get much of a sense of Mars as a different planet: the story (complete with urchins) could have taken place in Victorian England with very few changes. Nor did it feel as action-packed as the description above might make it sound: it’s quite a long way into the book before there is a confirmed contact with the enemy.

I certainly didn’t dislike it, but it didn't do much for me, and to be fair it probably isn't supposed to! In tone I think it’s aimed at a younger readership, or perhaps an older readership who grew up on Malory Towers or the Chalet School books, and would get a double kick of nostalgia from reading a slightly old-fashioned science fiction adventure featuring the type of heroine typical of those novels. My favourite element was probably the interactions with the local urchins, and the use of whistling to communicate with them, and the rules they followed. They seemed surprisingly forgiving of Rowany's decision to mislead them, putting them in danger for her own benefit, but perhaps that plants a seed for future stories.

This is the second in the publisher’s 2025 NP Novella series, and at the time of writing Kindle Unlimited subscribers can read it for free, the ebook can be bought for £3.99, and paperbacks and signed and limited edition hardbacks can be bought directly from the publisher***

Monday, 2 June 2025

Sugar | review by Rafe McGregor

Sugar. Apple TV+, 8 episodes, April 2024, £8.99 (monthly subscription rate)

Genre-bending neo-noir.

John Sugar (played by Colin Farrell) is a man with a mission, a private investigator who is very good at one thing and one thing only: finding missing persons. He is also a film buff and his reflections on the progress (or lack thereof) of his cases are cut with shots from classics of the Golden Age of Film Noir (as far as I could tell, anyway), which must have cost Apple a fair bit (I suppose they can afford it). Sugar loves movies so much, he might almost have used them to teach himself his trade, in a similar manner to that in which his friend Henry (played by Jason Butler Harner) might have taught himself to be an academic by reading campus novels.

For me, Farrell has taken over from Denzel Washington as the archetypal private eye or latter-day (urban) cowboy, a tough guy with a code and perhaps even a heart of gold if you can penetrate the layers of muscle. Like Washington, I never took to Farrell’s onscreen persona (just a little too smug for me), but he is an actor of such versatility that I was soon swayed by his performances in Miami Vice (2006), London Boulevard (2010), and True Detective 2 (2015), just as Washington blew me away in Out of Time (2003), Man on Fire (2004), and Déjà Vu (2006).

Why am I reviewing a neo-noir television series for TQF? Because, like Tony Scott’s wonderful Déjà Vu, Sugar has a genre-bending twist, albeit one that is revealed late in the series. (I won’t say which genre, so as to avoid spoilers, but you can be sure it’s one of science fiction, fantasy, or horror.) There are in fact two twists, an unusual change of category and a more common, but nonetheless delightful, reversal of fortune as the narrative charges to its conclusion. Does the change of category work? I’m not sure. It certainly didn’t ruin what had gone before, but ultimately I found it a little gratuitous. Meaning that the series would have been at least as good without it and perhaps better.

The case itself is standard PI fare, with Sugar hired to find the missing grandchild of movie mogul Jonathan Siegel (played by James Cromwell). Farrell is at his best since HBO’s True Detective 2 and there are outstanding performances by Kirby (formerly Kirby Howell-Baptiste, playing Sugar’s handler, Ruby) and Amy Ryan (playing Melanie Matthews, a retired rock star). The denouement is not at all predictable and even rather tense so in spite of a lost star for squeezing two genres into one narrative, I’d say it’s definitely worth watching. ***

Wednesday, 28 May 2025

Mission: Impossible – The Final Reckoning | review by Rafe McGregor

Mission: Impossible – The Final Reckoning, by Christopher McQuarrie (Paramount Pictures)

Better on the big screen.


The cinematic experience has changed a lot… and I mean since the COVID-19 pandemic, not over my lifetime. Vue, which has been my local ‘provider’ for some time now, recently refurbished all of its cinemas so that every seat is now what would have been called ‘luxury’ pre-pandemic. This must have cut the number of seats that can be squeezed into each theatre significantly, but I suppose it’s good business as fewer and fewer people venture forth from the comfort of their living rooms. At the same time (and probably for the same reasons) it has become increasingly difficult to find a cinema screening what one wants to watch, as my three most recent choices reveal: MI8 (at my local Vue, but only for a single week), Warfare (straight to streaming as far as I can tell), and The Return (apparently released last year, neither screening nor streaming in the UK).

By its eighth and final instalment, the Mission Impossible film franchise is firmly in the science fiction genre, with the antagonist of seven and eight (a single narrative divided into two parts) being a sentient AI program called the Entity that has inspired its own death cult, members of which have infiltrated various levels of America’s (and other nations’) governments and militaries. (Though perhaps the bit about members of a death cult infiltrating the government isn’t quite science fiction if one reads the news at the moment – I digress.) The franchise is of course based on the very successful Mission: Impossible television series, which ran from 1966 to 1973 and was revived for two seasons in the next decade. It was in fact less than a decade after this revival when the film series started as Mission: Impossible (MI1) was released in 1996. Since then, MI has emerged as something of an American version of the James Bond franchise, with Tom Cruise in the leading role of Ethan Hunt. Following a six-year hiatus at the beginning of the century (between MI2 and MI3) there has been an MI film every two to five years, a roll that even the pandemic couldn’t break.

The running time of MI8 is 170 minutes and my only real criticism of the film is that this is about 30 minutes too long and just a little too self-indulgent from Cruise (who is heavily involved in production), director Christopher McQuarrie, or both. For example, there is some very pedestrian exposition at the beginning that could easily have been shaved off. The scene (or sequence, if you’re a filmmaker) is both too lengthy – an attempt to remind audiences of not only the events of MI7, but that this is the culmination of the whole film series (it includes flashbacks to all of the other films) – and pointless. Pointless because the plot is so complex (and implausible, but this is science fiction so I won’t quibble) that I’d completely lost track by the time the explanation ended, in spite of having watched MI7 relatively recently.

Cruise is now 62 and remains determined to show us that with dedication and a few hundred million in the bank one can stay in peak condition in one’s seventh decade, spending much of the film with his shirt off (even in the Bering Sea – look it up on Google Maps). One thing that did strike me, though, was that for all of Cruise’s flexing, the franchise has become very child friendly. It’s always been fun and full of over-the-top stunts, but MI1 and MI2 (the latter in particular) had scenes and themes aimed at an adult audience. There is only one scene with extreme violence in MI8, which all occurs offscreen, and when Cruise does get horizontal with co-star Hayley Attwell (playing Grace, a former thief) it’s for a chaste cuddle in a decompression chamber. Which is fine, but the flashbacks to the earlier instalments reminded me that those films had a little more appeal for grown-ups. Notwithstanding, if you’ve watched one or more of the first seven, I recommend seeing how the story ends and, if you can find one screening it, seeing that ending at the cinema. ***

Tuesday, 11 February 2025

The Accident Season by Moïra Fowley-Doyle (Kathy Dawson Books) | review by Douglas J. Ogurek

Young adult novel hides sexual and physical abuse within a bubblegum wrapper of tarot cards, costume parties, kissing and witches.

The Accident Season focuses on a trio of Irish teens: seventeen-year-old narrator Cara Morris, her best friend Bea (a witch – not the supernatural kind), and Cara’s ex-stepbrother Sam whose crush on Cara is abundantly clear.

Every October is “accident season” for the Morrises due to the inordinate number of negative happenings: cuts, broken bones, severed relationships, and worse. This accident season, according to Bea’s tarot cards, is going to be awful. 

The trio undertakes a quest to find classmate Elsie, an outcast who keeps cropping up in Cara’s photos. Elsie has no friends, and yet people know her as the girl who oversees the school library’s “secrets booth”. Here students type out their secrets and give them to Elsie to keep safe. After her father died, Cara was friends with Elsie, who is fading into the shadows – Cara can’t even remember the semi-doppelganger’s last name.

The novel also explores the somewhat forbidden attraction between Cara and Sam – his father Christopher was married to Cara’s artist mother, but he left abruptly. The mother has assumed guardianship of Sam. Then there’s Cara’s sister Alice, dating a handsome and manipulative older vocalist from a band. 

The Accident Season contains lots of talk about masks and hiding one’s true feelings. The Cara/Bea/Sam trio isn’t very popular, but they host the Black Cat and Whiskey Moon Masquerade Ball, the point of which is that attendees will take off their figurative human masks to show what they really are. And they’re gaining popularity because of it.

The tension escalates as things come to the surface near the end, but until then, it’s a rather dull read. One can take only so much hanging out and smoking and drinking and tarot cards and writing poetry.—Douglas J. Ogurek ***


Friday, 27 December 2024

Doctor Who: The Eye of Torment, by Scott Gray, Martin Geraghty, et al. (Panini) | review by Stephen Theaker

This little review originally appeared on Goodreads in February 2023, but is otherwise previously unpublished.

The twelfth Doctor has epic adventures on the sun and on the ice. The story where the Doctor teams up with Nazis had a slightly odd "aren't we all as bad as each other?" vibe, but overall this was good fun. Felt very glamorous and big budget with its bright colours, top-notch artwork and full-bleed printing, plus an actual tv companion. It was nice reading it to know I had another four Capaldi books to go. As ever, the commentary at the back makes working on the strip sound like a fairly miserable experience, all wasted work and impossible deadlines, due to the need to work around the show and not duplicate or anticipate its storylines. It also left me wondering who one chap was talking about here: "There are plenty of men in the media spotlight who are oh-so keen to display their feminist credentials at every possible opportunity, but get them behind closed doors and they're as sexist as Alan Partridge on a stag weekend." Stephen Theaker ***

Friday, 20 December 2024

Watch the Signs! Watch the Signs! by Arthur Chappell (Shoreline of Infinity) | review by Stephen Theaker

This review was originally written in October 2019 for a previous iteration of the British Fantasy Society website.

Subtitled “Pub signs relating to science fiction, fantasy and horror”, this is a book that seeks to inform the reader from the very beginning. It was fascinating to read how the Romans used bushes to indicate the best places to get beer, and how pub signs, when they were introduced in the 14th century, were actually a form of licensing. Pubs would have their beer tested by men who sat in the beer, we are told, to see if it was sticky. If it was, all was well. If it wasn’t, someone was watering it down. Later we learn that the entire Wetherspoons chain was inspired to some extent by George Orwell’s essay “The Moon Under Water”.

Friday, 13 December 2024

The Last Mimzy | review by Stephen Theaker

This review originally appeared in TQF17 (June 2007).

I didn’t really enjoy The X-Files until the second season (though later I went back and enjoyed that first one as well). It was because the first episode treated alien contact very seriously, and so I took that to be the premise of the show: there has been alien contact. But then, in following weeks, we found that everything else that anyone ever imagined on a dark and stormy night also existed – telepathy, bigfoot, ghosts, vampires – but with no linking rationale, other than that they always existed, which I found intensely frustrating, both as a science fiction fan and as a rationalist. Soon, though, I came to see the program had much more to do with horror than science fiction, and was able to enjoy it again, and enjoy it thoroughly. Different rules apply in horror: its goal is not to help us make sense of the world around us, or speculate about the future, but just to frighten our socks off, and The X-Files did that in spades.

Friday, 29 November 2024

The Girl from the Sea, by Jessica Rydill (Midford Books) | review by Stephen Theaker

This review was originally published in December 2019 on an earlier iteration of the British Fantasy Society's website, and then appeared in TQF67 (July 2020).

Aude d’Iforas, swimming naked in the ocean, encounters Yuste and Yuda, twins with psychic powers, destined to be shamans. Their family are Wanderers, supposedly cursed for the crimes of their ancestors. Her own family of Doxan northerners has been banished, far from their home, after a spell she cast went badly wrong. The three teenagers make friends and the twins tell her of a drowned city that lies beneath the waves, called Savorin. Before they know it, a hooded figure with a face of white bone and hollow eyes has risen from the depths and rides a glistening boat towards them, accompanied by a dangerous storm.

Friday, 15 November 2024

The Dispossessed by Ursula K. Le Guin (The Folio Society) | review by Stephen Theaker

This review was written in 2020 for the British Fantasy Society's previous website.

This reads at first like old-school adventure sf, beginning with a sequence on a spaceship launchpad that could have come straight from a Dumarest novel. Sadly, that is no indication of where the book is heading. It is set several hundred years in the future. The Cetians (as humans have labelled the people of the two worlds, and as they have begun to call themselves) know of Earth but we are aliens to them. We have an ambassador on Urras, but no contact at all with the isolated colony founded on its moon, Anarres, two hundred years ago.

Friday, 8 November 2024

Agents of Shield, Season 5 | review by Stephen Theaker

This review originally appeared in TQF64 (March 2019). Daisy Johnson did not go on to appear in Avengers 4, unfortunately.

Agents of Shield has always been a decent, dependable show, rather than a knockout. Like Flash, Arrow and Legends of Tomorrow, we tend to catch up with it during the summer. But it has improved steadily, and looking back through online wikis about the characters, it’s striking how much they’ve been through, how many adventures they’ve had, and how much I enjoyed them. The division of seasons four and five into mini-seasons has re-energised the show. In season four the team met Ghost Rider, dealt with life model decoys and got stuck inside a virtual bubble universe, while in this season they are stranded in a desperate future timeline, and then try to prevent it happening in the present. (The latter storyline takes place contemporaneously with Thanos and his goon squad duking it out with the Avengers.) Regularly changing the premise of the show keeps the show feeling fresh. The main cast – playing Coulson, May, Daisy, Mac, Yoyo, Fitz and Simmons – are by this point very comfortable in their roles, and this season, originally thought to be its last, pays off our investment in those relationships. There are also references back to the previous four seasons throughout, tying the whole saga up in a bow. If this had been the end, it would have been a good one. But it’s been renewed, and though it’ll be a long, long wait till season six in the summer of 2019, it’ll be great to see Coulson back on the big screen in Captain Marvel, and I have my fingers crossed for Daisy Johnson in Avengers 4. Though it’s still not the fully-fledged Marvel Universe programme everyone was hoping for when it was first announced, it does its best. And though it’s still not a show I need to watch at the earliest possible opportunity, that’s only because the competition is so strong these days. The special effects are spectacular, the jokes are funny, the villains are hissable, and the stakes are high. Plus there’s Deke, who seems at first like a stand-in for Starlord and ends up being the breakout star of the season. I like Deke. Stephen Theaker ***

Friday, 4 October 2024

Too Like the Lightning by Ada Palmer (Head of Zeus) | review by Stephen Theaker

This review originally appeared in Interzone #272 (September–October 2017).

It is the year 2454, and the Seven-Ten lists are about to be published. Produced by the most significant newspaper of each hive, these lists rank the ten most important people in the world. But the list of the Black Sakura has been stolen and taken to the Saneer-Weeksbooth bash’house, apparently with the help of the so-called Canner device, which conceals a traveller's identity. Whoever did this seems to have several purposes in mind, and knows exactly what secrets they want brought into the light.