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Nadya R (9 KP) rated The Nightingale in Books
Jul 2, 2018
I am speechless. I finished the book 15 minutes ago, but I am still staring in the wall and tears are falling down my cheeks. It’s been a while since I’ve been that touched by a book. This story and this two sisters turn upside down the idea of the women’s role in WWII.
Kristin Hanna leads us through the dangerous way of Isabelle Rossignol - The Nightingale why fly to the freedom. She is one of the most active person in the Resistance. Fully opposite to her is her sister Vianne. She is humble and mild tempered she doesn’t want to be a hero. Her only wish is to survive the war together with her family. The Rossignol sisters were abandoned by their father (veteran of WWI) after their mother dead. Soon Vianne met Antoine and has a family with him. While Isabelle’s rebellious temper doesn’t allow her to accept her father decision and escape from every boarding school, she was sent to, and continue to go back to her father and to fight for his love. Exactly this part of her character made her The Nightingale- a woman equal to the men.
"Women were integral to the Resistance. Why couldn't men see that?"
On the other side Vianne doesn’t want to take part in the war. She doesn’t rise her voice, doesn’t ask questions. She’s been comfortable to the Nazis. And that is her point- been quiet and invisible means that you will survive. But as much as you want to close your eyes for injustice there is a breaking point - all these brutalities and injustice make us leave our ‘comfortable’ lives in the name of hundreds of saved lives.
The rebellious in Isabelle takes her to the centre of the French Resistance. First- used as a courier, she prove herself and began an important member in no time. Exposing her life to danger, she leads a pilot after a pilot through the high peaks of Pyrenees to their freedom. Meanwhile Vianne is living with Nazi officer, when one day the war bent her. She initiated a mission to save the Jews children.
"Vianne started them off on a song and they picked it up instantly, singing loudly as they clapped and bounced and skipped. Did they even notice the bombed out buildings they passed? The smoking piles of ribble that had once been homes? Or was destruction the ordinary view of their childhoods, unremarkable, unnoticeable."
But the war left its mark on all these kids, forced them to grow up fast and even in very young age they have already seen all these misfortunes in the world.
"Really, Maman? How long must we pretend?" The sadness-and the anger-in those beautiful eyes was heartbreaking. Vianne apparently had hidden nothing from this child who'd lost her childhood to war."
The author doesn’t save anything. At the end of the book she takes us to the Ravensbrück - the concentration camp in Germany for women why took an action against the Nazis. It’s known as one of the most brutal of them all. The picture, the author shows us, are breathtaking. All these tortures, rapes all these things that they did to women... I kinda felt it son deep and personal. I am not really able to write about this.
And at the end let’s speak about the love in the book. Here you can find lots of love.
Love of country.
Mother love.
Sisters love.
Love in the wartime is strong but faded at the same time. Set on the background, love is there but she(love) realises that in this times there is no place for blind love stories. On other hand this love is even stronger.
Every stolen second.
Every kiss is unspoken ‘Goodbye'.
Every meeting may be the last one.
".. a broken heart hurts as badly in wartime as in peace. Say good-bye to your young man well."
When it comes to war we imagine all these men risking their lives in the name of their country. But this is the story about war but trough women’s view. A women’s war on the shadow. Taking a risk of being caught and executed they keep delivering the message between the Resistance members. They are the connection between all pieces of the puzzle.
"Men tell stories. Women get on with it. For us it was a shadow war. There were no parades for us when it was over, no medals or mentions in history books. We did what we had to during the war, and when it was over, we picked up the pieces and started our lives over."
Kristin Hanna leads us through the dangerous way of Isabelle Rossignol - The Nightingale why fly to the freedom. She is one of the most active person in the Resistance. Fully opposite to her is her sister Vianne. She is humble and mild tempered she doesn’t want to be a hero. Her only wish is to survive the war together with her family. The Rossignol sisters were abandoned by their father (veteran of WWI) after their mother dead. Soon Vianne met Antoine and has a family with him. While Isabelle’s rebellious temper doesn’t allow her to accept her father decision and escape from every boarding school, she was sent to, and continue to go back to her father and to fight for his love. Exactly this part of her character made her The Nightingale- a woman equal to the men.
"Women were integral to the Resistance. Why couldn't men see that?"
On the other side Vianne doesn’t want to take part in the war. She doesn’t rise her voice, doesn’t ask questions. She’s been comfortable to the Nazis. And that is her point- been quiet and invisible means that you will survive. But as much as you want to close your eyes for injustice there is a breaking point - all these brutalities and injustice make us leave our ‘comfortable’ lives in the name of hundreds of saved lives.
The rebellious in Isabelle takes her to the centre of the French Resistance. First- used as a courier, she prove herself and began an important member in no time. Exposing her life to danger, she leads a pilot after a pilot through the high peaks of Pyrenees to their freedom. Meanwhile Vianne is living with Nazi officer, when one day the war bent her. She initiated a mission to save the Jews children.
"Vianne started them off on a song and they picked it up instantly, singing loudly as they clapped and bounced and skipped. Did they even notice the bombed out buildings they passed? The smoking piles of ribble that had once been homes? Or was destruction the ordinary view of their childhoods, unremarkable, unnoticeable."
But the war left its mark on all these kids, forced them to grow up fast and even in very young age they have already seen all these misfortunes in the world.
"Really, Maman? How long must we pretend?" The sadness-and the anger-in those beautiful eyes was heartbreaking. Vianne apparently had hidden nothing from this child who'd lost her childhood to war."
The author doesn’t save anything. At the end of the book she takes us to the Ravensbrück - the concentration camp in Germany for women why took an action against the Nazis. It’s known as one of the most brutal of them all. The picture, the author shows us, are breathtaking. All these tortures, rapes all these things that they did to women... I kinda felt it son deep and personal. I am not really able to write about this.
And at the end let’s speak about the love in the book. Here you can find lots of love.
Love of country.
Mother love.
Sisters love.
Love in the wartime is strong but faded at the same time. Set on the background, love is there but she(love) realises that in this times there is no place for blind love stories. On other hand this love is even stronger.
Every stolen second.
Every kiss is unspoken ‘Goodbye'.
Every meeting may be the last one.
".. a broken heart hurts as badly in wartime as in peace. Say good-bye to your young man well."
When it comes to war we imagine all these men risking their lives in the name of their country. But this is the story about war but trough women’s view. A women’s war on the shadow. Taking a risk of being caught and executed they keep delivering the message between the Resistance members. They are the connection between all pieces of the puzzle.
"Men tell stories. Women get on with it. For us it was a shadow war. There were no parades for us when it was over, no medals or mentions in history books. We did what we had to during the war, and when it was over, we picked up the pieces and started our lives over."
Hazel (1853 KP) rated He Walks Among Us: Encounters with Christ in a Broken World in Books
Dec 17, 2018
<b>Synopsis</b>
Richard Stearns is the president of World Vision United States who, along with his wife Reneé, regularly visits the poorer countries of our world to see the ways the charity is helping to change people's lives. <i>He Walks Among Us</i> is a compilation of short thoughts and observations (two-to-three pages, including photographs) they have both had while conducting their work. As they alternate the writing, we are given opinions and experiences that we may be able to relate to our own. As Richard is the president of the organisation, he can give an insight into the way World Vision works, however, he can also express his opinions as a father, grandfather and believer in Christ. Reneé is also a World Vision worker, but due to her nature, gives a more maternal impression of the scenes she witnesses.
The individuals written about in this book come from all over the world. Most are located in Africa, but there are also similar stories in Asia, South and North America, and even Eastern Europe. The terrors these people have faced are shocking (AIDs, war, sexual abuse, natural disasters etc), but each family has been aided in some way by World Vision and their donors.
The purpose of <i>He Walks Among Us</i> is not to promote World Vision, but to encourage us to let God and Jesus into our lives. Richard and Reneé assume their readers are Christians, however, they realise that being a Christian does not equate to fully accepting God's plans. The victims of war, rape, and poverty mentioned have also been touched by Jesus. Many did not know him before World Vision came into their lives, but they have now been transformed through the power of his love - although their situation may not have significantly improved.
The actual stories used to illustrate the work of World Vision are only brief mentions, providing the bare bones of the situations. What Richard and Reneé have focused on is linking these lives, their lives and our lives to passages from the Bible. Either taken literally or metaphorically, the pair manage to relate everything to the actions and fates of a number of key Biblical characters. This emphasises that Our Lord is walking among us, giving life, peace, hope and steadfast faith.
<b>Ideas</b>
Giving someone new hope or purpose in their life can be related to Jesus raising Lazarus from the dead. Whether people are literally dying, or on the edge of hopelessness and despair, improving their situation can turn their lives around.
The donors and workers at World Vision are like the Good Samaritan in Jesus' parable. We do not know these people, know their religion or circumstances, yet we send money and aid. To do nothing would make us the Priest or Levite in the story.
David was only a young boy when he had to face Goliath, yet, against all odds, he defeated him. The children mentioned in this book are similar to David. They each have their metaphorical Goliath's: poverty, illness, loss of parents, war, hunger etc, but with God working through us, these can be overcome.
<b>Noteworthy Bible Verses</b>
Each chapter of the book begins with a Bible verse, and often more are included within the text. Here are a few that really relate to the work of World Vision and the ways in which we can involve ourselves:
Philippians 4:12-13
Luke 21:3-4
Luke 6:20-21
Psalm 23:4
<b>Statistics</b>
23 million people in sub-Sahara Africa are suffering from HIV.
In Soviet-controlled Georgia, churches were banned. Some villages are only just seeing their first church in over 400 years.
20 thousand children under the age of 5 die every day.
Every 4 seconds a child under 5 dies.
Over 2 billion people in the world are living on $2 or less a day.
1 billion people have no access to clean drinking water.
41% of the population in Niger have no clean water.
<b>Citations</b>
Helen Keller: "So much has been given to me, I have no time to ponder over that which is denied."
Oswald Chambers: "The great hindrance in spiritual life is that we will look for big things to do. Jesus took a towel ... and began to wash the disciples' feet."
Mother Theresa: "I am a pencil in the hand of a writing God who is sending a love letter to the world."
C.S. Lewis: "Humility is not thinking less of yourself but thinking of yourself less."
<b>Other Mentions</b>
Hymn - Frances R. Havergal, <i>Take my Life and let it be.</i>
Film - <i>Pushing the Elephant</i>
Richard Stearns is the president of World Vision United States who, along with his wife Reneé, regularly visits the poorer countries of our world to see the ways the charity is helping to change people's lives. <i>He Walks Among Us</i> is a compilation of short thoughts and observations (two-to-three pages, including photographs) they have both had while conducting their work. As they alternate the writing, we are given opinions and experiences that we may be able to relate to our own. As Richard is the president of the organisation, he can give an insight into the way World Vision works, however, he can also express his opinions as a father, grandfather and believer in Christ. Reneé is also a World Vision worker, but due to her nature, gives a more maternal impression of the scenes she witnesses.
The individuals written about in this book come from all over the world. Most are located in Africa, but there are also similar stories in Asia, South and North America, and even Eastern Europe. The terrors these people have faced are shocking (AIDs, war, sexual abuse, natural disasters etc), but each family has been aided in some way by World Vision and their donors.
The purpose of <i>He Walks Among Us</i> is not to promote World Vision, but to encourage us to let God and Jesus into our lives. Richard and Reneé assume their readers are Christians, however, they realise that being a Christian does not equate to fully accepting God's plans. The victims of war, rape, and poverty mentioned have also been touched by Jesus. Many did not know him before World Vision came into their lives, but they have now been transformed through the power of his love - although their situation may not have significantly improved.
The actual stories used to illustrate the work of World Vision are only brief mentions, providing the bare bones of the situations. What Richard and Reneé have focused on is linking these lives, their lives and our lives to passages from the Bible. Either taken literally or metaphorically, the pair manage to relate everything to the actions and fates of a number of key Biblical characters. This emphasises that Our Lord is walking among us, giving life, peace, hope and steadfast faith.
<b>Ideas</b>
Giving someone new hope or purpose in their life can be related to Jesus raising Lazarus from the dead. Whether people are literally dying, or on the edge of hopelessness and despair, improving their situation can turn their lives around.
The donors and workers at World Vision are like the Good Samaritan in Jesus' parable. We do not know these people, know their religion or circumstances, yet we send money and aid. To do nothing would make us the Priest or Levite in the story.
David was only a young boy when he had to face Goliath, yet, against all odds, he defeated him. The children mentioned in this book are similar to David. They each have their metaphorical Goliath's: poverty, illness, loss of parents, war, hunger etc, but with God working through us, these can be overcome.
<b>Noteworthy Bible Verses</b>
Each chapter of the book begins with a Bible verse, and often more are included within the text. Here are a few that really relate to the work of World Vision and the ways in which we can involve ourselves:
Philippians 4:12-13
Luke 21:3-4
Luke 6:20-21
Psalm 23:4
<b>Statistics</b>
23 million people in sub-Sahara Africa are suffering from HIV.
In Soviet-controlled Georgia, churches were banned. Some villages are only just seeing their first church in over 400 years.
20 thousand children under the age of 5 die every day.
Every 4 seconds a child under 5 dies.
Over 2 billion people in the world are living on $2 or less a day.
1 billion people have no access to clean drinking water.
41% of the population in Niger have no clean water.
<b>Citations</b>
Helen Keller: "So much has been given to me, I have no time to ponder over that which is denied."
Oswald Chambers: "The great hindrance in spiritual life is that we will look for big things to do. Jesus took a towel ... and began to wash the disciples' feet."
Mother Theresa: "I am a pencil in the hand of a writing God who is sending a love letter to the world."
C.S. Lewis: "Humility is not thinking less of yourself but thinking of yourself less."
<b>Other Mentions</b>
Hymn - Frances R. Havergal, <i>Take my Life and let it be.</i>
Film - <i>Pushing the Elephant</i>
Gareth von Kallenbach (980 KP) rated Us (2019) in Movies
Jul 2, 2019
We’ve all heard that somewhere out in the world there is a true Doppelganger for each and every one of us. An almost exact copy which may not behave the same but would otherwise be indistinguishable from the other. In a common instance a Doppelganger might be a set of identical twins who share the same DNA, or in pop culture references we might look to the definition of a Doppelganger in Dungeons and Dragons, defined as a monstrous humanoid able to change the shape and read the minds of their intended target to mimic them completely. Somewhere in the middle is where Jordan Peele’s latest masterpiece takes us.
The film begins in the mid 80’s, when Michael Jackson’s Thriller is topping the charts and Hands Across America was a very real idea (worth looking up for younger readers who may not even know what I’m talking about). A young Adelaide Wilson is exploring the boardwalk on a beach in Santa Cruz with her parents. When her father is distracted by a game of Whack a’ Mole something draws Adelaide down to the beach where she passes a man holding a sign referencing Jeremiah 11:11, one of the first messages that foreshadows what is to come. On the beach she encounters an empty and sinister looking hall of mirrors attraction. Wandering through the hall of mirrors a young Adelaide encounters a girl in the mirror, an exact duplicate of herself whose encounter is so traumatic that it leaves her unable to speak.
The film transitions to present day where the now adult Adelaide (Lupita Nyong’o) is traveling with her husband Gabriel (Winston Duke) and her two children Zora (Shahadi Wright Joseph) and youngest son Jason (Evan Alex) to her parents’ home near the beach in Santa Cruz. Adelaide has resisted going back to the very same boardwalk where she had encountered her doppelganger as a young child. With her husband and children pressing her to go to the beach, she reluctantly agrees as long as they promise to be home before dark. The day at the beach is relatively uneventful until it is nearing time to go home and the family has lost sight of young Jason. Adelaide in a panic frantically searches for him, finally finding him returning from the bathroom.
The incident, while minor, convinces Adelaide that they should never have come back and wants to leave immediately. Various subtle “coincidences” occur that leave her feeling as though a black cloud hangs over her and a sense of dread that something terrible is about to happen. Before the family turns in for the evening, Jason sees “A family” at the edge of their driveway. Gabriel attempts to get to the bottom of who these mysterious visitors are, only for a night of unimaginable terror to ensue.
Us takes queues from several other movie types, The Strangers, Night of the Living Dead and Invasion of the Body Snatchers mashing them together to weave its frightening (and often funny) tale. It takes a little time to gain momentum, but once it does It never once lets off the gas. While at first it seems nothing more than a home invasion from characters who look exactly like the Wilson family, it quickly grows into something substantially more terrifying. The backdrop varies between a somewhat isolated house in the woods, to the bustling beach, giving a sense of isolation even at the most crowded of places. The boardwalk is a place that is both wonderous and terrifying at the same time, reminiscent of the early scenes in the 80’s classic The Lost Boys. While lacking in both clowns or vampires, it holds its own secrets (and terrors).
Us is a movie that is unlike any other and is refreshing when stacked against similar fright films that have been released recently. If you are a fan of Jordan Peele’s Get Out, you will find a lot to like here as well. It maintains its dark humor without ever going over board and has plenty of thrills and scares to keep you on your toes at all times. It’s not a movie that will keep you up all night hiding under your covers, but it may cause you to rethink your next vacation to the beach or the boardwalk. In the end, I feel this is another film that is sure to become a cult classic, enjoyable for fans of the genre.
The film begins in the mid 80’s, when Michael Jackson’s Thriller is topping the charts and Hands Across America was a very real idea (worth looking up for younger readers who may not even know what I’m talking about). A young Adelaide Wilson is exploring the boardwalk on a beach in Santa Cruz with her parents. When her father is distracted by a game of Whack a’ Mole something draws Adelaide down to the beach where she passes a man holding a sign referencing Jeremiah 11:11, one of the first messages that foreshadows what is to come. On the beach she encounters an empty and sinister looking hall of mirrors attraction. Wandering through the hall of mirrors a young Adelaide encounters a girl in the mirror, an exact duplicate of herself whose encounter is so traumatic that it leaves her unable to speak.
The film transitions to present day where the now adult Adelaide (Lupita Nyong’o) is traveling with her husband Gabriel (Winston Duke) and her two children Zora (Shahadi Wright Joseph) and youngest son Jason (Evan Alex) to her parents’ home near the beach in Santa Cruz. Adelaide has resisted going back to the very same boardwalk where she had encountered her doppelganger as a young child. With her husband and children pressing her to go to the beach, she reluctantly agrees as long as they promise to be home before dark. The day at the beach is relatively uneventful until it is nearing time to go home and the family has lost sight of young Jason. Adelaide in a panic frantically searches for him, finally finding him returning from the bathroom.
The incident, while minor, convinces Adelaide that they should never have come back and wants to leave immediately. Various subtle “coincidences” occur that leave her feeling as though a black cloud hangs over her and a sense of dread that something terrible is about to happen. Before the family turns in for the evening, Jason sees “A family” at the edge of their driveway. Gabriel attempts to get to the bottom of who these mysterious visitors are, only for a night of unimaginable terror to ensue.
Us takes queues from several other movie types, The Strangers, Night of the Living Dead and Invasion of the Body Snatchers mashing them together to weave its frightening (and often funny) tale. It takes a little time to gain momentum, but once it does It never once lets off the gas. While at first it seems nothing more than a home invasion from characters who look exactly like the Wilson family, it quickly grows into something substantially more terrifying. The backdrop varies between a somewhat isolated house in the woods, to the bustling beach, giving a sense of isolation even at the most crowded of places. The boardwalk is a place that is both wonderous and terrifying at the same time, reminiscent of the early scenes in the 80’s classic The Lost Boys. While lacking in both clowns or vampires, it holds its own secrets (and terrors).
Us is a movie that is unlike any other and is refreshing when stacked against similar fright films that have been released recently. If you are a fan of Jordan Peele’s Get Out, you will find a lot to like here as well. It maintains its dark humor without ever going over board and has plenty of thrills and scares to keep you on your toes at all times. It’s not a movie that will keep you up all night hiding under your covers, but it may cause you to rethink your next vacation to the beach or the boardwalk. In the end, I feel this is another film that is sure to become a cult classic, enjoyable for fans of the genre.
Bob Mann (459 KP) rated Last Christmas (2019) in Movies
Nov 25, 2019
Alas, Christmas
Oh Dear! Now I wouldn't go as far as saying I had "high hopes" for this film, but as a real fan of the goo-fest that is "Love Actually" I at least thought this might fill some seasonal void in the run up to the festive season. "Best Christmas film of the decade!!" screams the marketing. Er... no.
This review will be spoiler free.
The plot: Kate (Emilia Clarke) is an immigrant from the former-Yugoslavia now living in London. She has a dead-end job working for "Santa" (Michelle Yeoh) in a Christmas shop in Covent Garden. She is perennially lubricated both with drink and other bodily fluids thanks to her hedonistic lifestyle. And she really likes George Michael.
But life just seems vacuous and to have no purpose for her anymore. Her composure is not helped by her mother (Emma Thompson) constantly fussing about her health, since Kate has only recently recovered from a serious illness.
Dropping into her life then comes Tom (Henry Golding). Smartly dressed and calmly reassuring, Tom seems to have the potential to start turning Kate's life around. But is she prepared to listen?
There are startling similarities here with Phoebe Waller-Bridge's triumphant tribute to hedonistic 30-something sex-addicted females everywhere.... "Fleabag". Kate is similarly louche, hopping from bed to bed in a heartbeat. She has a dysfunctional family and - most strikingly - she has a particularly difficult relationship with her high-achieving sister. This is not helped by a remarkable similarity between the actress playing Marta (Lydia Leonard ) and Fleabag's Clare (Sian Clifford). But whereas Fleabag is both brilliantly written, heart-rending and hilarious, this simply is not.
There were a total of two laughs in the movie for me. Period. Both were lines delivered by Emma Thompson, and if you've seen the film you probably know the ones. Now, I'm aware that Thompson co-wrote the script and she is, of course, a national acting treasure. But here the script is clunky and all of the "comic" scenes are so laboured and forced that they land like leaden weights.
And some of it makes no sense whatsoever. There is some strange Danish sauerkraut salesman (Peter Mygind) with a crush on "Santa". He suddenly appears in the shop acting like some escaped mental patient. When he first appears, acting bizarrely, you think, "oh, there must be some fascinating backstory between these two - a murky past they are trying to rekindle". But no! This is the first time they have EVER met? It's completely bonkers!
Much was made of this being Michelle Yeoh's "first comedy". Sorry, but if she proves anything here it is that she is not a comic actress.
Emilia Clarke is still looking to land in a decent mainstream role outside "Game of Thrones", after a failed Terminator sequel, a half-decent weepie ("Me Before You") and the commercial failure that was "Solo". Here she certainly looks curvaciously cute as the Christmas elf. But unfortunately cute can't save her from the car-crash of a script.
Similarly Henry Golding is well-dressed eye-candy for the ladies, almost doing a re-tread of his cool and laid-back character from the excellent "Crazy Rich Asians". Without the same need to be "zany", he fairs slightly better from the script. But again, this feels like one to shuffle into a quiet corner of his CV.
What can I say that's even remotely good about this? Three things:
1) London. It looks glorious, decked out in lights like some chocolate-box-cover cum tourist-board publicity shot. London is one of the most photogenic cities on the planet, and I could relate to Tom's mantra to "look up" and see all of the architectural quirks and foibles that exist around every corner in that wonderful city;
2) The payoff. Exactly when you get the payoff will depend on how much you know going in (if you've managed to avoid the trailer... continue to avoid it!) and how attentive you are. There's an "aha!" moment. And it's nicely played out.
3) There's a topical xenophobic Brexit angle, that's a little clumsy in the exposition but - in my view - is good for the telling.
This is a movie desperately trying to blend "Love Actually" with another Christmas classic (no... not "Die Hard"... but to say more would introduce spoilers!) But in my view it misses badly.
The director is Paul Feig, famous for "Bridesmaids" and "Spy" and infamous for the female "Ghostbusters" reboot.
There are clearly lovers of this film. At the time of writing it has made an impressive $51M on its $25M budget. But I went with another three cinema-goers from my family, all of differing ages and sentiments: and we all universally agreed on the rating for this one.
(For the graphical review, please check out One Mann's Movies here - https://bob-the-movie-man.com/2019/11/25/one-manns-movies-film-review-last-christmas-2019/ . Thanks).
This review will be spoiler free.
The plot: Kate (Emilia Clarke) is an immigrant from the former-Yugoslavia now living in London. She has a dead-end job working for "Santa" (Michelle Yeoh) in a Christmas shop in Covent Garden. She is perennially lubricated both with drink and other bodily fluids thanks to her hedonistic lifestyle. And she really likes George Michael.
But life just seems vacuous and to have no purpose for her anymore. Her composure is not helped by her mother (Emma Thompson) constantly fussing about her health, since Kate has only recently recovered from a serious illness.
Dropping into her life then comes Tom (Henry Golding). Smartly dressed and calmly reassuring, Tom seems to have the potential to start turning Kate's life around. But is she prepared to listen?
There are startling similarities here with Phoebe Waller-Bridge's triumphant tribute to hedonistic 30-something sex-addicted females everywhere.... "Fleabag". Kate is similarly louche, hopping from bed to bed in a heartbeat. She has a dysfunctional family and - most strikingly - she has a particularly difficult relationship with her high-achieving sister. This is not helped by a remarkable similarity between the actress playing Marta (Lydia Leonard ) and Fleabag's Clare (Sian Clifford). But whereas Fleabag is both brilliantly written, heart-rending and hilarious, this simply is not.
There were a total of two laughs in the movie for me. Period. Both were lines delivered by Emma Thompson, and if you've seen the film you probably know the ones. Now, I'm aware that Thompson co-wrote the script and she is, of course, a national acting treasure. But here the script is clunky and all of the "comic" scenes are so laboured and forced that they land like leaden weights.
And some of it makes no sense whatsoever. There is some strange Danish sauerkraut salesman (Peter Mygind) with a crush on "Santa". He suddenly appears in the shop acting like some escaped mental patient. When he first appears, acting bizarrely, you think, "oh, there must be some fascinating backstory between these two - a murky past they are trying to rekindle". But no! This is the first time they have EVER met? It's completely bonkers!
Much was made of this being Michelle Yeoh's "first comedy". Sorry, but if she proves anything here it is that she is not a comic actress.
Emilia Clarke is still looking to land in a decent mainstream role outside "Game of Thrones", after a failed Terminator sequel, a half-decent weepie ("Me Before You") and the commercial failure that was "Solo". Here she certainly looks curvaciously cute as the Christmas elf. But unfortunately cute can't save her from the car-crash of a script.
Similarly Henry Golding is well-dressed eye-candy for the ladies, almost doing a re-tread of his cool and laid-back character from the excellent "Crazy Rich Asians". Without the same need to be "zany", he fairs slightly better from the script. But again, this feels like one to shuffle into a quiet corner of his CV.
What can I say that's even remotely good about this? Three things:
1) London. It looks glorious, decked out in lights like some chocolate-box-cover cum tourist-board publicity shot. London is one of the most photogenic cities on the planet, and I could relate to Tom's mantra to "look up" and see all of the architectural quirks and foibles that exist around every corner in that wonderful city;
2) The payoff. Exactly when you get the payoff will depend on how much you know going in (if you've managed to avoid the trailer... continue to avoid it!) and how attentive you are. There's an "aha!" moment. And it's nicely played out.
3) There's a topical xenophobic Brexit angle, that's a little clumsy in the exposition but - in my view - is good for the telling.
This is a movie desperately trying to blend "Love Actually" with another Christmas classic (no... not "Die Hard"... but to say more would introduce spoilers!) But in my view it misses badly.
The director is Paul Feig, famous for "Bridesmaids" and "Spy" and infamous for the female "Ghostbusters" reboot.
There are clearly lovers of this film. At the time of writing it has made an impressive $51M on its $25M budget. But I went with another three cinema-goers from my family, all of differing ages and sentiments: and we all universally agreed on the rating for this one.
(For the graphical review, please check out One Mann's Movies here - https://bob-the-movie-man.com/2019/11/25/one-manns-movies-film-review-last-christmas-2019/ . Thanks).
5 Minute Movie Guy (379 KP) rated The Kitchen (2019) in Movies
Aug 24, 2019
Married into a life with the mob, three women living in Hell’s Kitchen, New York City in the late ‘70s find themselves trapped in their husband’s shadows in Andrea Berloff’s debut film, The Kitchen. Based on a 2014 DC Comics graphic novel by the same name, the film focuses on these three female friends facing the aftermath of their husband’s botched crime and subsequent imprisonment. Their Italian crime family promised to take care of them while their spouses are locked away, but their measly support simply isn’t enough when they’ve got mouths to feed and bills to pay. Tired of being weak and dependent, the ladies band together to take control of their situation by trying to take over the mob.
The Kitchen stars actresses Melissa McCarthy, Tiffany Haddish, and Elisabeth Moss as the female trio who work to rise to the top of their crime family by carrying the dead weight of the lazy men who lead it. McCarthy plays Kathy Brennan, a housewife and mother of two, whose seemingly good-natured husband is clearly involved in the wrong crowd. In spite of that, she appears to have a pleasant life at home, but her heavy reliance on her husband puts her in peril once he’s locked away. On the other hand, Haddish and Moss play Ruby and Claire, who are both victimized and disrespected by their husbands, with Claire even being regularly abused. These characteristics help to define the women and their actions as they attempt to upend the male-dominated establishment.
However, despite The Kitchen’s strong set-up, the characters themselves don’t show much depth beyond this, and the film’s performances leave a lot to be desired. McCarthy felt like she was acting in an entirely different movie. I’ve never seen a more passive and unconvincing crime boss. She’s struggling with a balancing act that sees her going between being tough, funny, ruthless, submissive, and sweet. By comparison to the rest of the movie, her whole character feels off-key. Then there’s Haddish who gives the worst acting performance I’ve seen in quite some time. I’m not really a fan of her brand of humor, but I didn’t like her dramatic turn here either. She just delivers snarky lines with attitude and death glares before walking off-camera in practically every shot she’s in. It’s almost funny how cheesy and over-the-top it is. You can’t just go mean-mugging your way through a whole major motion picture and expect to be taken seriously.
On a more positive note, Moss was much more impressive as Claire, who is fed up with being beaten down and bullied, and is determined to learn how to defend herself. She partners up with Domhnall Gleeson’s hitman character Gabriel who teaches her how to kill. Their relationship ends up being perhaps the most interesting aspect of the whole movie, and it has something of a Bonnie and Clyde quality to it. I only wish we could have seen it fleshed out a bit more.
For all of its potential, especially in terms of portraying female empowerment, The Kitchen regrettably winds up being a generic, inconsistent, and lethargic affair. I personally love the premise of the film. It’s a bad ass statement to any man who has ever said that a woman’s place is in the kitchen. It sticks up a middle finger to sexism by taking the action to the criminal streets of Hell’s Kitchen where the women rise to power. Unfortunately, despite the kick-ass feminist concept, I found that the film’s attempt at empowerment never really manifests into anything meaningful.
Instead, The Kitchen feels messy and uninspired. There isn’t a single scene in the entire film that I would consider to be good. The story is thin, the suspense is absent, the setting is bland, the tone is confusing, and the characters are mostly uninspired. I hate to even say it, but while watching it, I couldn’t help but be reminded of last year’s train-wreck of a film, Gotti, starring John Travolta. I think both of these films had a lot of promise, but seriously failed to deliver. As someone who loves a good gangster movie, I feel really disappointed.
There’s ultimately very little I liked about The Kitchen. The movie lacks a pulse, and the stakes never feel significant, not even as the body count piles up. The set design shows no strong sense of place or time period. Most of the settings outside seemed to be looking at nondescript sidewalks that could have been filmed anywhere. With the setting of Hell’s Kitchen, I can’t help but immediately think of The Godfather. Similarly, the use of The Rolling Stones in the trailer evokes thoughts of Scorsese and Goodfellas. Unfortunately, this movie clearly doesn’t even come close to comparing to either of those classics. This movie’s plot is weak, the betrayals are obvious, and the ending is uncomfortably idiotic. Despite it all, however, I find myself still interested in The Kitchen’s graphic novel at least, because I can’t imagine it being this bad.
The Kitchen stars actresses Melissa McCarthy, Tiffany Haddish, and Elisabeth Moss as the female trio who work to rise to the top of their crime family by carrying the dead weight of the lazy men who lead it. McCarthy plays Kathy Brennan, a housewife and mother of two, whose seemingly good-natured husband is clearly involved in the wrong crowd. In spite of that, she appears to have a pleasant life at home, but her heavy reliance on her husband puts her in peril once he’s locked away. On the other hand, Haddish and Moss play Ruby and Claire, who are both victimized and disrespected by their husbands, with Claire even being regularly abused. These characteristics help to define the women and their actions as they attempt to upend the male-dominated establishment.
However, despite The Kitchen’s strong set-up, the characters themselves don’t show much depth beyond this, and the film’s performances leave a lot to be desired. McCarthy felt like she was acting in an entirely different movie. I’ve never seen a more passive and unconvincing crime boss. She’s struggling with a balancing act that sees her going between being tough, funny, ruthless, submissive, and sweet. By comparison to the rest of the movie, her whole character feels off-key. Then there’s Haddish who gives the worst acting performance I’ve seen in quite some time. I’m not really a fan of her brand of humor, but I didn’t like her dramatic turn here either. She just delivers snarky lines with attitude and death glares before walking off-camera in practically every shot she’s in. It’s almost funny how cheesy and over-the-top it is. You can’t just go mean-mugging your way through a whole major motion picture and expect to be taken seriously.
On a more positive note, Moss was much more impressive as Claire, who is fed up with being beaten down and bullied, and is determined to learn how to defend herself. She partners up with Domhnall Gleeson’s hitman character Gabriel who teaches her how to kill. Their relationship ends up being perhaps the most interesting aspect of the whole movie, and it has something of a Bonnie and Clyde quality to it. I only wish we could have seen it fleshed out a bit more.
For all of its potential, especially in terms of portraying female empowerment, The Kitchen regrettably winds up being a generic, inconsistent, and lethargic affair. I personally love the premise of the film. It’s a bad ass statement to any man who has ever said that a woman’s place is in the kitchen. It sticks up a middle finger to sexism by taking the action to the criminal streets of Hell’s Kitchen where the women rise to power. Unfortunately, despite the kick-ass feminist concept, I found that the film’s attempt at empowerment never really manifests into anything meaningful.
Instead, The Kitchen feels messy and uninspired. There isn’t a single scene in the entire film that I would consider to be good. The story is thin, the suspense is absent, the setting is bland, the tone is confusing, and the characters are mostly uninspired. I hate to even say it, but while watching it, I couldn’t help but be reminded of last year’s train-wreck of a film, Gotti, starring John Travolta. I think both of these films had a lot of promise, but seriously failed to deliver. As someone who loves a good gangster movie, I feel really disappointed.
There’s ultimately very little I liked about The Kitchen. The movie lacks a pulse, and the stakes never feel significant, not even as the body count piles up. The set design shows no strong sense of place or time period. Most of the settings outside seemed to be looking at nondescript sidewalks that could have been filmed anywhere. With the setting of Hell’s Kitchen, I can’t help but immediately think of The Godfather. Similarly, the use of The Rolling Stones in the trailer evokes thoughts of Scorsese and Goodfellas. Unfortunately, this movie clearly doesn’t even come close to comparing to either of those classics. This movie’s plot is weak, the betrayals are obvious, and the ending is uncomfortably idiotic. Despite it all, however, I find myself still interested in The Kitchen’s graphic novel at least, because I can’t imagine it being this bad.
Gareth von Kallenbach (980 KP) rated V for Vendetta (2005) in Movies
Aug 14, 2019
On a dark and silent night, a young woman named Evey (Natalie Portman), treads carefully through the streets of London unaware of the direction her life is about to take. As an attractive young lady, sneaking out of her home after curfew is filled with peril, especially when she is confronted by a gang of local thugs who happen to work for the government. Despite her protests, the men set up Evey only to be confronted by a masked figure.
The masked figure quickly dispatches the assailants and offers to escort Evey to safety. Despite being scared, Evey does accompany the figure to a rooftop where she is treated to a spectacular explosion set to music.
Thus begins V for Vendetta a film that mixes “The Phantom of the Opera” “Beauty and the Beast” and ?” to create a gothic love story and biting social commentary about the dangers of governmental control and censorship in a society gone awry.
In London of the near future, it is learned that a series of terrorist attacks have left thousands dead which resulted in stricter governmental controls and intrusions into privacy and lifestyles. Those who did not conform nor meet expectations often vanished never to be heard from again. Such was the case of Evey’s parents who decided to protest governmental policies and soon found themselves beaten and whisked away in the night.
Behind all of the oppression is a man named Adam Sutler (John Hurt), a monomaniacal leader who rules with an iron fist and an extreme agenda that he has manipulated to make himself and unopposed ruler of the nation.
While most of the population lives in fear of Sutler and his men, there is one who does not, a mysterious masked figure named V (Hugo Weaving), who dons a Guy Fawkes mask in tribute to the man who centuries ago attempted to destroy Parliament. When V is able to temporarily gain control of the television network for the government, he is able to broadcast his message to the people that the time has come to take back their lives and society and stop living in fear. Towards this end, V pledges to the masses that he will destroy Parliament in 1 year and that the people should gather to watch the destruction unfold.
This bold proclamation causes Sutler to stop at nothing to capture V and he tasks his Chief Inspector Finch (Stephen Rea), to locate V. Since Evey worked at the television station and was observed helping V on a security monitor, Finch decides to locate Evey and force her to reveal the locale of the mysterious vigilante.
This task proves difficult as V has taken Evey into his protection and forces her to live in his luxurious yet secluded home in order to avoid the police forces.
It is during this time that Evey learns that V is a study in contrast. On one hand he is a very sophisticated person with a taste for the arts, culture, and a desire to see people free to live their lives as they desire.
During this time V also kills top members of the political party and with the discovery of each new victim, he becomes an even bigger target of a very irate Sutler.
All of which culminates in a race against the clock for V to complete his plan and exact his revenge for past wrongdoings done to him which propels the film to its climatic finale.
While the film is an interesting and at times enjoyable film it is hampered in some ways by a marketing program where early trailers showed the film to be an action filled romp. The truth is there is about 15-20 minutes of action in the films nearly 2hr and 10 minute run time which allows the majority of the film to be spent on the interaction between V and Evey.
While this is interesting and does bring in elements of “Phantom” and “Beauty” as I mentioned earlier, it is at the sacrifice of what I think are important factors. For example we learn a bit about why V is on his vendetta but serious questions from that are not answered. We do not learn the full what, where and why, on his situation. I am trying hard to avoid spoilers here so suffice it to say there are some very important questions about what was done to him, how he survived and so on that need to be answered but are not.
The action sequences though few and far between are well staged and Weaving and Portman have a great chemistry with one another and do make interesting and compelling characters.
The main strength of the film is the message that people need to be aware of what is going on around them and not be so willing to accept everything they are told at face value. There is a real sense of counter-culture with the film as the prevalent theme of question and if needed defy authority permeates the film.
The script written by the Wachowski brothers of The Matrix trilogy fame has chosen to tone down the gimmicky of bullet time effects and instead focus on a character driven drama with a message and it is one that resounds loudly and clearly.
The masked figure quickly dispatches the assailants and offers to escort Evey to safety. Despite being scared, Evey does accompany the figure to a rooftop where she is treated to a spectacular explosion set to music.
Thus begins V for Vendetta a film that mixes “The Phantom of the Opera” “Beauty and the Beast” and ?” to create a gothic love story and biting social commentary about the dangers of governmental control and censorship in a society gone awry.
In London of the near future, it is learned that a series of terrorist attacks have left thousands dead which resulted in stricter governmental controls and intrusions into privacy and lifestyles. Those who did not conform nor meet expectations often vanished never to be heard from again. Such was the case of Evey’s parents who decided to protest governmental policies and soon found themselves beaten and whisked away in the night.
Behind all of the oppression is a man named Adam Sutler (John Hurt), a monomaniacal leader who rules with an iron fist and an extreme agenda that he has manipulated to make himself and unopposed ruler of the nation.
While most of the population lives in fear of Sutler and his men, there is one who does not, a mysterious masked figure named V (Hugo Weaving), who dons a Guy Fawkes mask in tribute to the man who centuries ago attempted to destroy Parliament. When V is able to temporarily gain control of the television network for the government, he is able to broadcast his message to the people that the time has come to take back their lives and society and stop living in fear. Towards this end, V pledges to the masses that he will destroy Parliament in 1 year and that the people should gather to watch the destruction unfold.
This bold proclamation causes Sutler to stop at nothing to capture V and he tasks his Chief Inspector Finch (Stephen Rea), to locate V. Since Evey worked at the television station and was observed helping V on a security monitor, Finch decides to locate Evey and force her to reveal the locale of the mysterious vigilante.
This task proves difficult as V has taken Evey into his protection and forces her to live in his luxurious yet secluded home in order to avoid the police forces.
It is during this time that Evey learns that V is a study in contrast. On one hand he is a very sophisticated person with a taste for the arts, culture, and a desire to see people free to live their lives as they desire.
During this time V also kills top members of the political party and with the discovery of each new victim, he becomes an even bigger target of a very irate Sutler.
All of which culminates in a race against the clock for V to complete his plan and exact his revenge for past wrongdoings done to him which propels the film to its climatic finale.
While the film is an interesting and at times enjoyable film it is hampered in some ways by a marketing program where early trailers showed the film to be an action filled romp. The truth is there is about 15-20 minutes of action in the films nearly 2hr and 10 minute run time which allows the majority of the film to be spent on the interaction between V and Evey.
While this is interesting and does bring in elements of “Phantom” and “Beauty” as I mentioned earlier, it is at the sacrifice of what I think are important factors. For example we learn a bit about why V is on his vendetta but serious questions from that are not answered. We do not learn the full what, where and why, on his situation. I am trying hard to avoid spoilers here so suffice it to say there are some very important questions about what was done to him, how he survived and so on that need to be answered but are not.
The action sequences though few and far between are well staged and Weaving and Portman have a great chemistry with one another and do make interesting and compelling characters.
The main strength of the film is the message that people need to be aware of what is going on around them and not be so willing to accept everything they are told at face value. There is a real sense of counter-culture with the film as the prevalent theme of question and if needed defy authority permeates the film.
The script written by the Wachowski brothers of The Matrix trilogy fame has chosen to tone down the gimmicky of bullet time effects and instead focus on a character driven drama with a message and it is one that resounds loudly and clearly.
Sophia (Bookwyrming Thoughts) (530 KP) rated Lucid in Books
Jan 23, 2020
<b><i>I received this book for free from Xpresso Book Tours in exchange for an honest review. This does not affect my opinion of the book or the content of my review.</i></b>
<i>Lucid</i> is really weird it's <b>not exactly a book with contents that I usually come across.</b> The last time I actually read a book that dealt with dreams was <i><a title="The Vault of Dreamers by Caragh M. O'Brien" href="https://bookwyrmingthoughts.com/arc-review-the-vault-of-dreamers-by-caragh-m-obrien/"; target="_blank" rel="noopener">The Vault of Dreamers</a></i>. <i>Lucid</i> kind of... <b>throws in dreams and nightmares together</b> when Lori Blaine's psychologist encourages her to finally go through a door reoccurring in her dreams for years. When Lori does, she is plunged into another world entirely where danger lurks around every corner.
<b>Bonansinga writes in a different style than what you might be used to.</b> As I read <i>Lucid</i>, <b>I felt like I was watching an episode of a TV series, or just merely an actress reading a script.</b> While Lori is our main character most of the time, <b>the author shifts outside of the character's thoughts every so often</b> and focuses on the dialogue and actions of the people around her. There's are a few moments where it's <b>almost as though there's a narrator observing everything going on but accidentally slips up and quickly tries to fix everything by repositioning the camera. Meanwhile, the characters, or "actors," pretend not to notice.</b>
<blockquote style="text-align: left;">They swerved around the body, which lay in a heap near the shouldergiving it a wide berthand then roared off into the night.
They never saw the body behind them casually sit up, rise to its feet, and walk away.
I promise Ill tell you everything, Lori was saying, searching through the glove box, as the damaged Geo chugged down a hill.</blockquote>
I've also <b>never seen so many caps in a book before.</b> I don't mean the first letter in every sentence, I mean the I'M YELLING AT YOU THOUGH INTERMASPACE kind. (Or <a title="Daughter of Deep Silence by Carrie Ryan" href="https://bookwyrmingthoughts.com/dnf-review-daughter-of-deep-silence-by-carrie-ryan/"; target="_blank" rel="noopener">my brain is raging at a book.</a> It's not necessarily one I didn't finish.)
<i>Lucid</i> is very <b>action-packed and vivid, but I don't really feel like this is a stand alone.</b> There's a pretty solid ending, but there may be a subtle loose end or two (I'll have to mull it over in my brain). <b>The dream world, however...</b>
I'm still very confused. I know there are five stages of sleep: brain activity slows down in the first, brain activity is everywhere in the second as the body transitions into the third stage, where brain activity is low. The fourth stage is similar to the third stage as the body prepares for the fifth stage, which is known as REM, or rapid eye movement, and dreams come alive.
I totally summarized that part. I probably came across this on a boring day and didn't remember anything but rapid eye movement is where dreams occur. REM is also a unit of measurement measuring the amount of radiation absorbed by human tissue. *drum rolls* I promise I'm not showing off.
Anyhoo, back to this whole dream world thing Bonansinga built <i>Lucid</i> on. According to the book, <b>there are three dimensions.</b> There's <b>WAKEworld</b>, which I assume is when all of us are awake and slouching in office/desk chairs (or curled up with a good book); <b>REMspace</b>, which I assume is the dream world and where you dream; and then there's <b>LIMBOspace/LIMBOworld</b>, which, knowing the word limbo, it's the middle world between dreams and wakefulness.
<b>I get the gist. But I don't <i>understand</i> how this whole LIMBOspace/LIMBOworld works.</b> I mean, <b>is it connected to that in-between where you're not living or dead,</b> because it's connected to comatose states? <b>What happens if Lori actually "ran out of time?"</b> She'll be a vegetable, most likely, but <b>if she runs out of time... is she a vegetable forever until her body is just a pile of bones and dust somewhere? But then what happens when you <i>are</i> a pile of bones and dust somewhere? Do you continue existing in this LIMBOspace, or do you just disappear?</b>
I could be over thinking this and taking it a curious step further than what is actually necessary (I would still wonder about that connection to comatose states though). <b><i>Lucid</i> has mind-boggling and creepy moments throughout the book, but it's really just similar to someone trying to stop demons entering the real world. Bonansinga just takes it from a dream level rather than an inferno one.</b> Points given for a unique take on an overused plot.
<a href="https://bookwyrmingthoughts.com/review-lucid-by-jay-bonansinga/"; target="_blank">This review was originally posted on Bookwyrming Thoughts</a>
<i>Lucid</i> is really weird it's <b>not exactly a book with contents that I usually come across.</b> The last time I actually read a book that dealt with dreams was <i><a title="The Vault of Dreamers by Caragh M. O'Brien" href="https://bookwyrmingthoughts.com/arc-review-the-vault-of-dreamers-by-caragh-m-obrien/"; target="_blank" rel="noopener">The Vault of Dreamers</a></i>. <i>Lucid</i> kind of... <b>throws in dreams and nightmares together</b> when Lori Blaine's psychologist encourages her to finally go through a door reoccurring in her dreams for years. When Lori does, she is plunged into another world entirely where danger lurks around every corner.
<b>Bonansinga writes in a different style than what you might be used to.</b> As I read <i>Lucid</i>, <b>I felt like I was watching an episode of a TV series, or just merely an actress reading a script.</b> While Lori is our main character most of the time, <b>the author shifts outside of the character's thoughts every so often</b> and focuses on the dialogue and actions of the people around her. There's are a few moments where it's <b>almost as though there's a narrator observing everything going on but accidentally slips up and quickly tries to fix everything by repositioning the camera. Meanwhile, the characters, or "actors," pretend not to notice.</b>
<blockquote style="text-align: left;">They swerved around the body, which lay in a heap near the shouldergiving it a wide berthand then roared off into the night.
They never saw the body behind them casually sit up, rise to its feet, and walk away.
I promise Ill tell you everything, Lori was saying, searching through the glove box, as the damaged Geo chugged down a hill.</blockquote>
I've also <b>never seen so many caps in a book before.</b> I don't mean the first letter in every sentence, I mean the I'M YELLING AT YOU THOUGH INTERMASPACE kind. (Or <a title="Daughter of Deep Silence by Carrie Ryan" href="https://bookwyrmingthoughts.com/dnf-review-daughter-of-deep-silence-by-carrie-ryan/"; target="_blank" rel="noopener">my brain is raging at a book.</a> It's not necessarily one I didn't finish.)
<i>Lucid</i> is very <b>action-packed and vivid, but I don't really feel like this is a stand alone.</b> There's a pretty solid ending, but there may be a subtle loose end or two (I'll have to mull it over in my brain). <b>The dream world, however...</b>
I'm still very confused. I know there are five stages of sleep: brain activity slows down in the first, brain activity is everywhere in the second as the body transitions into the third stage, where brain activity is low. The fourth stage is similar to the third stage as the body prepares for the fifth stage, which is known as REM, or rapid eye movement, and dreams come alive.
I totally summarized that part. I probably came across this on a boring day and didn't remember anything but rapid eye movement is where dreams occur. REM is also a unit of measurement measuring the amount of radiation absorbed by human tissue. *drum rolls* I promise I'm not showing off.
Anyhoo, back to this whole dream world thing Bonansinga built <i>Lucid</i> on. According to the book, <b>there are three dimensions.</b> There's <b>WAKEworld</b>, which I assume is when all of us are awake and slouching in office/desk chairs (or curled up with a good book); <b>REMspace</b>, which I assume is the dream world and where you dream; and then there's <b>LIMBOspace/LIMBOworld</b>, which, knowing the word limbo, it's the middle world between dreams and wakefulness.
<b>I get the gist. But I don't <i>understand</i> how this whole LIMBOspace/LIMBOworld works.</b> I mean, <b>is it connected to that in-between where you're not living or dead,</b> because it's connected to comatose states? <b>What happens if Lori actually "ran out of time?"</b> She'll be a vegetable, most likely, but <b>if she runs out of time... is she a vegetable forever until her body is just a pile of bones and dust somewhere? But then what happens when you <i>are</i> a pile of bones and dust somewhere? Do you continue existing in this LIMBOspace, or do you just disappear?</b>
I could be over thinking this and taking it a curious step further than what is actually necessary (I would still wonder about that connection to comatose states though). <b><i>Lucid</i> has mind-boggling and creepy moments throughout the book, but it's really just similar to someone trying to stop demons entering the real world. Bonansinga just takes it from a dream level rather than an inferno one.</b> Points given for a unique take on an overused plot.
<a href="https://bookwyrmingthoughts.com/review-lucid-by-jay-bonansinga/"; target="_blank">This review was originally posted on Bookwyrming Thoughts</a>
Mandy and G.D. Burkhead (26 KP) rated Banewreaker in Books
May 20, 2018
Shelf Life – Banewreaker Will Make You Feel Bad for Sauron
Contains spoilers, click to show
Very few fantasy fans can get away with admitting that they aren’t all that big into sweeping, high epic fantasy à la Lord of the Rings or the Pern stories or everything that Terry Brooks writes. Many non-fantasy fans, however, can point to these tales as examples of why they aren’t into fantasy. Like it or not, it’s hard not to see the latter group’s point, as a lot of high fantasy is riddled with confusing terminology, rehashed stories, and genre clichés. This is not to say that these stories are bad, per sé, just that they can easily turn off readers who aren’t in the right kind of crowd.
Banewreaker, the first book in Jacqueline Carey’s two-part volume The Sundering, will probably not change any opinions in this respect, then, as it’s sweeping high fantasy to the core. This, as it turns out, is both its greatest strength and its greatest weakness.
There are some reviews out there that laud Banewreaker as a masterful examination of subjective viewpoints in an epic fantasy turned into a human tragedy by a simple change of perspective. And they are absolutely correct.
There are other reviews, however, that call the book out as a heap of all of the stalest fantasy clichés piled one atop the other in a confusing and pretentious jumble with a shellacking of purple prose for good measure. And they are also absolutely correct.
Let me explain.
For starters, it would be inaccurate to say that this story is full of clichés. This story is clichés. This story is every familiar and used-up trope you would expect from a high fantasy, all of those details that have been done to death in thousands of other versions until almost nothing that happens seems original anymore.
This is what’s going to turn off a lot of people. But the thing is, Banewreaker has to be this way. It wants the reader to look at all of the things that they’ve come to expect from a fantasy epic and then, by shifting the narrative focus, realize that all of these beloved tropes are actually, when you think about it, tragic as hell.
In other words, it’s Lord of the Rings from Sauron’s point of view.
It’s not a riff, though. It’s not goofy like most of the stuff I go in for. It takes its subject just as seriously as the stories that it’s mirroring, and this is what makes the whole story ultimately so gripping and so moving.
The story starts out like many stories of this magnitude, with exposition stretching back to the Dawn of This Particular Creation. In this case, we have a protogenos world god named Uru-Alat who died and gave rise to seven smaller godlike beings called Shapers. First comes Haomane, who becomes the Lord of Thought and sets himself up as head honcho for this ensuing pantheon. Second is Arahila, the Basically a Love Goddess; and third is Satoris, whose purview was “the quickening of the flesh,” which is high fantasy speak for sexy times. Four more Shapers come after this who, for the sake of brevity, we’ll be glossing over.
To summarize the important godly exposition, the Seven Shapers set about shaping the world to the surprise of no one. Haomane creates elves (here called Ellyl, but if you’ve ever even looked at a fantasy, you know that they’re the elves here), Arahila creates humans, and Satoris doesn’t create anything because he’s busy hanging out with dragons and learning their wisdom. Satoris grants his fleshy quickening to the humans but not the elves, because Haomane didn’t want his elves to do that. Then Haomane decides he doesn’t want the humans to do that either, but Satoris refuses to take the gift away again. Conflict escalates, god wars ensue, and the world splits into two continents, with Satoris ostracized from his brethren on one and the remaining Shapers on the other. By the time the dust has settled, Satoris is scarred and burned pitch black, living in a mostly dead land thanks to Haomane’s wrath, but with a dagger in his possession that is the only weapon capable of killing any of the Shapers.
The story itself picks up thousands of years later, with Satoris as the Satan/Sauron stand-in living in a forbidding land surrounded by classically evil things like trolls, giant spiders, and insane people. Since Haomane is the head god, the rest of the world believes Satoris to be a terrible figure of evil and betrayal, while Satoris’s few allies know him as a pitiable and misunderstood figure who only ever wanted to honor his word and do right by his own sense of morality rather than the dictates of his elder brother god king.
From here the plot becomes the typical Army of Good vs. Army of Evil adventure, but with the protagonistic focus on Satoris and his allies. His trolls we see not as a mindless horde but as a simple, honorable people who happily serve their lord because he happily serves them right back. The mad individuals inhabiting his fortress are castaways from normal society with nowhere else to go. And the giant spiders just happen to live there and be bigger than normal, with no sinister intentions beyond that.
And just like that, by actually showing us the home life of the ultimate in evil fantasy tropes, we see how easily one side’s view of evil is another’s view of good. In doing so, Banewreaker becomes perhaps the first sweeping fantasy epic with no real bad guy, just two sides of an unfortunate conflict. Both sides have their likeable characters, both sides seem from their view to be in the right, and pretty soon you, as the reader, will stop cheering for either one, because whenever one person that you like succeeds it means that another person whom you also like is failing.
In fact, the closest thing that this story has to a clearly-labeled “evil” character is the sorceress Lilias, and even then, she’s not evil so much as a woman who has done some bad things for completely understandable reasons. Lilias, in fact, is one of the most pitiful characters in this whole saga of pitiable characters, with her fears and attachments closely mirroring those of most readers, only amplified by her immortality and magical powers. She is afraid of dying. She wants to be more in the grand scheme of things than just another man’s wife or another country’s momentary ruler, both of which would just be tiny moments in a long history. She likes her youth. She likes having pretty things and pretty people around her. And from her interactions with her dragon mentor and apparently only friend, Calandor, we see that she is also capable of intense affection and even love just as she is capable of indulging in self-centered self-interest that, if not particularly a good trait, is also one that she is not alone in possessing.
Banewreaker, then, is a story with a large cast of characters but very few actual heroes or innocents as well as very few outright villains, which is exactly what it sets out to be. Those who love it and those who hate it both seem to blame this quality in particular for their feelings. The biggest complaint leveled against it (that I have read, anyway) is that the people we should be rooting for do not deserve our sympathy, while the people we should be rooting against are more misguided and unwilling to see things in another light than deserving of our scorn.
This is true. But if it’s a flaw, it’s an intentional one. And if it makes you feel like you shouldn’t be cheering for either side at all in this conflict, that’s the point. This is a story of clichés, yes, but it has something that it needs to say about these clichés and, in doing so, about the subjective and impossibly nebulous quality of morality in general.
In short, here again is another fantasy story about the Forces of Good wiping out an entire nation dedicated to their “evil” enemy. And as the story points out, even if you believe in that cause, you’re still wiping out an entire nation of people. No way is there not a downside to that. Seeing things in a black-and-white morality just means crushing a whole lot of important shades of gray underfoot.
Whether or not you like Banewreaker, then, depends in large part upon how much you realize that Carey as an author is being self-aware. As someone who read and still hasn’t stopped being awed over her Kushiel series, I can’t claim complete objectivity in this area, because I came to Banewreaker already in love with her. I can say, however, that unless you have an intense and searing aversion to ornate and sweeping style, this book is worth any fantasy-lover’s time – especially if you’ve ever felt a pang of empathy for all of the poor villainous mooks that fantasy heroes tend to mow down without a thought because they were the wrong kind of ugly.
Banewreaker, the first book in Jacqueline Carey’s two-part volume The Sundering, will probably not change any opinions in this respect, then, as it’s sweeping high fantasy to the core. This, as it turns out, is both its greatest strength and its greatest weakness.
There are some reviews out there that laud Banewreaker as a masterful examination of subjective viewpoints in an epic fantasy turned into a human tragedy by a simple change of perspective. And they are absolutely correct.
There are other reviews, however, that call the book out as a heap of all of the stalest fantasy clichés piled one atop the other in a confusing and pretentious jumble with a shellacking of purple prose for good measure. And they are also absolutely correct.
Let me explain.
For starters, it would be inaccurate to say that this story is full of clichés. This story is clichés. This story is every familiar and used-up trope you would expect from a high fantasy, all of those details that have been done to death in thousands of other versions until almost nothing that happens seems original anymore.
This is what’s going to turn off a lot of people. But the thing is, Banewreaker has to be this way. It wants the reader to look at all of the things that they’ve come to expect from a fantasy epic and then, by shifting the narrative focus, realize that all of these beloved tropes are actually, when you think about it, tragic as hell.
In other words, it’s Lord of the Rings from Sauron’s point of view.
It’s not a riff, though. It’s not goofy like most of the stuff I go in for. It takes its subject just as seriously as the stories that it’s mirroring, and this is what makes the whole story ultimately so gripping and so moving.
The story starts out like many stories of this magnitude, with exposition stretching back to the Dawn of This Particular Creation. In this case, we have a protogenos world god named Uru-Alat who died and gave rise to seven smaller godlike beings called Shapers. First comes Haomane, who becomes the Lord of Thought and sets himself up as head honcho for this ensuing pantheon. Second is Arahila, the Basically a Love Goddess; and third is Satoris, whose purview was “the quickening of the flesh,” which is high fantasy speak for sexy times. Four more Shapers come after this who, for the sake of brevity, we’ll be glossing over.
To summarize the important godly exposition, the Seven Shapers set about shaping the world to the surprise of no one. Haomane creates elves (here called Ellyl, but if you’ve ever even looked at a fantasy, you know that they’re the elves here), Arahila creates humans, and Satoris doesn’t create anything because he’s busy hanging out with dragons and learning their wisdom. Satoris grants his fleshy quickening to the humans but not the elves, because Haomane didn’t want his elves to do that. Then Haomane decides he doesn’t want the humans to do that either, but Satoris refuses to take the gift away again. Conflict escalates, god wars ensue, and the world splits into two continents, with Satoris ostracized from his brethren on one and the remaining Shapers on the other. By the time the dust has settled, Satoris is scarred and burned pitch black, living in a mostly dead land thanks to Haomane’s wrath, but with a dagger in his possession that is the only weapon capable of killing any of the Shapers.
The story itself picks up thousands of years later, with Satoris as the Satan/Sauron stand-in living in a forbidding land surrounded by classically evil things like trolls, giant spiders, and insane people. Since Haomane is the head god, the rest of the world believes Satoris to be a terrible figure of evil and betrayal, while Satoris’s few allies know him as a pitiable and misunderstood figure who only ever wanted to honor his word and do right by his own sense of morality rather than the dictates of his elder brother god king.
From here the plot becomes the typical Army of Good vs. Army of Evil adventure, but with the protagonistic focus on Satoris and his allies. His trolls we see not as a mindless horde but as a simple, honorable people who happily serve their lord because he happily serves them right back. The mad individuals inhabiting his fortress are castaways from normal society with nowhere else to go. And the giant spiders just happen to live there and be bigger than normal, with no sinister intentions beyond that.
And just like that, by actually showing us the home life of the ultimate in evil fantasy tropes, we see how easily one side’s view of evil is another’s view of good. In doing so, Banewreaker becomes perhaps the first sweeping fantasy epic with no real bad guy, just two sides of an unfortunate conflict. Both sides have their likeable characters, both sides seem from their view to be in the right, and pretty soon you, as the reader, will stop cheering for either one, because whenever one person that you like succeeds it means that another person whom you also like is failing.
In fact, the closest thing that this story has to a clearly-labeled “evil” character is the sorceress Lilias, and even then, she’s not evil so much as a woman who has done some bad things for completely understandable reasons. Lilias, in fact, is one of the most pitiful characters in this whole saga of pitiable characters, with her fears and attachments closely mirroring those of most readers, only amplified by her immortality and magical powers. She is afraid of dying. She wants to be more in the grand scheme of things than just another man’s wife or another country’s momentary ruler, both of which would just be tiny moments in a long history. She likes her youth. She likes having pretty things and pretty people around her. And from her interactions with her dragon mentor and apparently only friend, Calandor, we see that she is also capable of intense affection and even love just as she is capable of indulging in self-centered self-interest that, if not particularly a good trait, is also one that she is not alone in possessing.
Banewreaker, then, is a story with a large cast of characters but very few actual heroes or innocents as well as very few outright villains, which is exactly what it sets out to be. Those who love it and those who hate it both seem to blame this quality in particular for their feelings. The biggest complaint leveled against it (that I have read, anyway) is that the people we should be rooting for do not deserve our sympathy, while the people we should be rooting against are more misguided and unwilling to see things in another light than deserving of our scorn.
This is true. But if it’s a flaw, it’s an intentional one. And if it makes you feel like you shouldn’t be cheering for either side at all in this conflict, that’s the point. This is a story of clichés, yes, but it has something that it needs to say about these clichés and, in doing so, about the subjective and impossibly nebulous quality of morality in general.
In short, here again is another fantasy story about the Forces of Good wiping out an entire nation dedicated to their “evil” enemy. And as the story points out, even if you believe in that cause, you’re still wiping out an entire nation of people. No way is there not a downside to that. Seeing things in a black-and-white morality just means crushing a whole lot of important shades of gray underfoot.
Whether or not you like Banewreaker, then, depends in large part upon how much you realize that Carey as an author is being self-aware. As someone who read and still hasn’t stopped being awed over her Kushiel series, I can’t claim complete objectivity in this area, because I came to Banewreaker already in love with her. I can say, however, that unless you have an intense and searing aversion to ornate and sweeping style, this book is worth any fantasy-lover’s time – especially if you’ve ever felt a pang of empathy for all of the poor villainous mooks that fantasy heroes tend to mow down without a thought because they were the wrong kind of ugly.
Eilidh G Clark (177 KP) rated The Panopticon in Books
May 13, 2017
This is my all time favouurite book.
Jenny Fagan stated in an interview in 2013 that prior to writing the novel The Panopticon (2012) she had one question, ‘is it possible to achieve autonomy?’ Fagan explores this question throughout her novel with the character of Anais Hendrix. I would also suggest that the author is metaphorically exploring whether Scotland can achieve autonomy as an independent nation. Autonomy, in relation to the individual, is self-governance- or being able to decide for oneself
At the beginning of the novel, the fifteen-year old Anais is governed by the state. In contemporary British society, a child under the age of sixteen, regardless of her social situation is, by law, governed by an adult/s. Anais has lived her life in the care system with the exception of a short period in which she lived with an adopted mother. It is for this reason that she is able to see society from outside of the family unit. By creating the motherless child, Fagan presents Anais as the ‘other’ from both a societal perspective- ‘communities dinnae like no-ones,’ and from the viewpoint of the protagonist, ‘What they really want is me dead,’ (TP, p.23). Without a family, and through a lack of legitimate information regarding her birth mother, Anais believes that she was created in a lab:
I’M AN experiment. I always have been, It’s a given, a liberty, a fact. They watch me. Not just in school or social-work reviews, courts or police cells – they watch everywhere. […] They’re there when I stare too long or too clearly, without flinching. […] They watch me, I know it, and I can’t find anywhere any more – where they can’t see, (TP, Prologue).
Note that in the above quotation, the protagonist describes her assumed identity as a ‘liberty’. Liberty, in this case, means freedom from the oppressive nature of the family. Although Anais desires the nurturing aspect of the family, ‘I just want my mum,’ (Tp, p.269), her lack of family exposes her to the nature of contemporary society as a constant monitoring of civilians. In the above quotation, the repetition of ‘they’ suggests that she feels outside of the norm. The most important aspect of the above quote however, is that it is told from the protagonist’s thoughts. While Fagan gives Anais a certain amount of autonomy through both the first-person narrator, and the vernacular, the reliability of the narrator is increased by presenting the characters inner thoughts. While this limited autonomy is important, full autonomy is restricted by age. Bever suggests that ‘the capacity for individuals to become autonomous seems radically dependent on the contingent historical circumstances and societies into which they are born. Anais’ awareness of herself as the ‘other’ allows her an insight into the oppressive role of society, which is normally hindered in childhood due to the role of the family and it’s teaching of norms and values.
The sense of otherness can also be looked at in regard to Scotland and its role within the UK. The UK is a family of four countries under one state. Regardless of Scotland’s devolution, it has still to comply with a large amount of UK policies. Scotland has different values and goals to that of the UK making it ‘other’. With a different cultural identity to its neighbours, many Scottish citizens are seeking independence to protect its dwindling identity, whilst for others, independence is political.
Anais’ awareness of social control causes her a feeling of shrinking. This, according to her social workers is an identity problem:
Fifty odd moves, three different names, born in a nuthouse to a nobody that was never seen again. Identity problem? I dinnae have an identity problem – I dinnae have an identity, (TP, p.99).
Anais’ reaction in the above statement describes her lack of knowledge of her ancestry. I would argue that her identity is forced upon her from the fifty-one times that she has moved home, the care system, the solitary time in which she was adopted, the relationships she has had - both female and male, her friends but more importantly, from the unreliable account of her birth from the monk in the metal institution. The lack of family does not alter the fact that she is alive, and that all the fragments of her past make up an identity. For Anais, ‘Families are overrated […] ‘I umnay fooled. Not by families,’(TP, p.63-64). Like Anais, Scotland’s identity is ambiguous. Independence will allow Scotland political autonomy, however, within a global economy, Scotland still has limited autonomy. As culturally ‘other’ however, Scotland has already achieved autonomy with or without a state through its language, its people and its traditions.
Fagan demonstrates the difficulty of total autonomy though Anais and the birthday game, a game in which she creates her own identity. When she turns sixteen years of age, Anais is free from societal care and flees from her imprisonment, ‘I am Frances Jones from Paris. I am not a face on a missing-person poster, I am not a number or a statistic in a file. I have no-one watching me, […] I−begin today,’ (TP, p.323-324). ‘I’ suggests singularity and is still opposite to ‘them’ or ‘we’. Autonomy is therefore, ambiguous; Anais is still living within the same system under a false identity, she is therefore, segregated from everyone that she knows. Moreover, by changing Anais’ name to a name that ‘means freedom.’ (TP, p.323), Fagan is pointing out the difference between freedom and autonomy. Freedom is an emotive word, and there are two concepts of freedom – freedom from, which in Anais’ situation means freedom from the system of observation. Freedom to, however, is more problematic as Anais can never be free from the neoliberal system of rules and law – as Scotland would see in the case of independence. I would therefore conclude that Anais/Scotland has always has limited autonomy through cultural identity and history. I believe autonomy can only reside within the system through cultural and individual imagination and not out with it.
What does this mean for Scotland? If Scotland is part of the global community, can it become an autonomous nation? Is there a solution or should Anais/Scotland accept that cultural autonomy is imagined or self-contained. Can a collective identity and imagination change the political system? Finally, can culture survive without independence?
Bibliography
Crupp, Tyler, ‘Autonomy and Contemporary Political Theory’, in Encyclopaedia of Political Theory, ed. Mark Bevor (London: Sage Publications, 2010)
Fagan, Jenni, The Panopticon (London: Windmill Books, 2013), p.6.
Windmill Books. (2013). Granta Best Young British Novelist Jenni Fagan, . accessed 22 November 2015. Published on Apr 16, 2013
At the beginning of the novel, the fifteen-year old Anais is governed by the state. In contemporary British society, a child under the age of sixteen, regardless of her social situation is, by law, governed by an adult/s. Anais has lived her life in the care system with the exception of a short period in which she lived with an adopted mother. It is for this reason that she is able to see society from outside of the family unit. By creating the motherless child, Fagan presents Anais as the ‘other’ from both a societal perspective- ‘communities dinnae like no-ones,’ and from the viewpoint of the protagonist, ‘What they really want is me dead,’ (TP, p.23). Without a family, and through a lack of legitimate information regarding her birth mother, Anais believes that she was created in a lab:
I’M AN experiment. I always have been, It’s a given, a liberty, a fact. They watch me. Not just in school or social-work reviews, courts or police cells – they watch everywhere. […] They’re there when I stare too long or too clearly, without flinching. […] They watch me, I know it, and I can’t find anywhere any more – where they can’t see, (TP, Prologue).
Note that in the above quotation, the protagonist describes her assumed identity as a ‘liberty’. Liberty, in this case, means freedom from the oppressive nature of the family. Although Anais desires the nurturing aspect of the family, ‘I just want my mum,’ (Tp, p.269), her lack of family exposes her to the nature of contemporary society as a constant monitoring of civilians. In the above quotation, the repetition of ‘they’ suggests that she feels outside of the norm. The most important aspect of the above quote however, is that it is told from the protagonist’s thoughts. While Fagan gives Anais a certain amount of autonomy through both the first-person narrator, and the vernacular, the reliability of the narrator is increased by presenting the characters inner thoughts. While this limited autonomy is important, full autonomy is restricted by age. Bever suggests that ‘the capacity for individuals to become autonomous seems radically dependent on the contingent historical circumstances and societies into which they are born. Anais’ awareness of herself as the ‘other’ allows her an insight into the oppressive role of society, which is normally hindered in childhood due to the role of the family and it’s teaching of norms and values.
The sense of otherness can also be looked at in regard to Scotland and its role within the UK. The UK is a family of four countries under one state. Regardless of Scotland’s devolution, it has still to comply with a large amount of UK policies. Scotland has different values and goals to that of the UK making it ‘other’. With a different cultural identity to its neighbours, many Scottish citizens are seeking independence to protect its dwindling identity, whilst for others, independence is political.
Anais’ awareness of social control causes her a feeling of shrinking. This, according to her social workers is an identity problem:
Fifty odd moves, three different names, born in a nuthouse to a nobody that was never seen again. Identity problem? I dinnae have an identity problem – I dinnae have an identity, (TP, p.99).
Anais’ reaction in the above statement describes her lack of knowledge of her ancestry. I would argue that her identity is forced upon her from the fifty-one times that she has moved home, the care system, the solitary time in which she was adopted, the relationships she has had - both female and male, her friends but more importantly, from the unreliable account of her birth from the monk in the metal institution. The lack of family does not alter the fact that she is alive, and that all the fragments of her past make up an identity. For Anais, ‘Families are overrated […] ‘I umnay fooled. Not by families,’(TP, p.63-64). Like Anais, Scotland’s identity is ambiguous. Independence will allow Scotland political autonomy, however, within a global economy, Scotland still has limited autonomy. As culturally ‘other’ however, Scotland has already achieved autonomy with or without a state through its language, its people and its traditions.
Fagan demonstrates the difficulty of total autonomy though Anais and the birthday game, a game in which she creates her own identity. When she turns sixteen years of age, Anais is free from societal care and flees from her imprisonment, ‘I am Frances Jones from Paris. I am not a face on a missing-person poster, I am not a number or a statistic in a file. I have no-one watching me, […] I−begin today,’ (TP, p.323-324). ‘I’ suggests singularity and is still opposite to ‘them’ or ‘we’. Autonomy is therefore, ambiguous; Anais is still living within the same system under a false identity, she is therefore, segregated from everyone that she knows. Moreover, by changing Anais’ name to a name that ‘means freedom.’ (TP, p.323), Fagan is pointing out the difference between freedom and autonomy. Freedom is an emotive word, and there are two concepts of freedom – freedom from, which in Anais’ situation means freedom from the system of observation. Freedom to, however, is more problematic as Anais can never be free from the neoliberal system of rules and law – as Scotland would see in the case of independence. I would therefore conclude that Anais/Scotland has always has limited autonomy through cultural identity and history. I believe autonomy can only reside within the system through cultural and individual imagination and not out with it.
What does this mean for Scotland? If Scotland is part of the global community, can it become an autonomous nation? Is there a solution or should Anais/Scotland accept that cultural autonomy is imagined or self-contained. Can a collective identity and imagination change the political system? Finally, can culture survive without independence?
Bibliography
Crupp, Tyler, ‘Autonomy and Contemporary Political Theory’, in Encyclopaedia of Political Theory, ed. Mark Bevor (London: Sage Publications, 2010)
Fagan, Jenni, The Panopticon (London: Windmill Books, 2013), p.6.
Windmill Books. (2013). Granta Best Young British Novelist Jenni Fagan, . accessed 22 November 2015. Published on Apr 16, 2013
Daniel Boyd (1066 KP) rated The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild in Video Games
Jul 25, 2017
Bonus Points - An Example Of The Favoritism Towards Certain Developers In The Gaming Industry, Even When They Don’t Deliver
Zelda: Breath Of The Wild came out last month and it has taken the gaming world by storm. As a non Zelda fan, I am left wondering why this is the case. Why is this Zelda game so revolutionary? I don’t own the game, but I have played the first few hours of it and I have read a good number of reviews on the game. There are a few critics claiming that this game, ‘writes a new chapter in the videogames industry,’ and that it is an, ‘evolution of everything that has come before.’
While I appreciate that this is a well made game and it is doing new things within the Zelda franchise, these statements stick in my throat a little. This isn’t because I don’t agree that this is an impressive game, because it is. Other than the odd frame rate drop, there aren’t many flaws with this game and I did enjoy the few hours that I spent with it, (I had a lend of a friends Switch for the night so I could try the game for myself.)
My problem comes from the fact that this is a well made game that isn’t doing anything that hasn’t been done before a million times and frankly been done better. Full disclosure, I have never been a Zelda fan, but I wanted this game to convert me and I’m sorry to say that it didn’t. The purpose of this piece isn’t to attack the Zelda franchise, so you fanboys can put your pitchforks down. What I want to discuss is how when Nintendo do anything that is slightly better than a disaster, it is heralded as the brave new step in video games by a large number of the video game press.
I get it, nostalgia is a powerful lens and most writers in their 30’s grew up playing on Nintendo systems and franchises like Mario and Zelda, but as someone who is around ten years younger and grew up with Playstation, I don’t feel that Nintendo has advanced a great deal since the turn of the millennium and frankly, I don’t see Nintendo as having broken any new ground in the last twenty years.
If games like Breath of the Wild came out on another console, they wouldn’t be lauded as the best thing since sliced bread. In fact they have, it’s called Horizon: Zero Dawn! When Horizon came out it received a positive critical reception and high sales, but no one was writing articles claiming it was the next step in the evolution of video games. Splatoon has been put on a pedestal and has been described as ‘fresh,’ and, ‘unique,’ even though it is nothing more than a dumbed down version of Team Fortress 2 for a younger audience. Super Mario Maker was released in 2015 and it was essentially a $60 level editor. Level editors have been included in other games since forever and no fuss has been made, but when Nintendo sell an entire game based on the concept, it’s hailed as another, ‘triumph by Nintendo.’
When you compare Breath of The Wild to other recent open world games like The Witcher or Skyrim, there is nothing that makes it unique from a design and functionality standpoint. If Breath of The Wild came out in 2008, then sure you could get away with labeling it revolutionary, but in this day and age it isn’t any more special than Horizon or Skyrim.
Let’s look at some of the features that have been called unique in the game. The tower climbing to uncover zones of the map mechanic has been done in the Assassin’s Creed and Far Cry series’. Using plants for crafting and cooking has been done in Far Cry and Skyrim. Far Cry 2 and Dead Island had degradable weapons. The inventory system is very reminiscent of multiple Ubisoft titles; essentially Breath of The Wild has taken some elements from other games and made something from that within the Zelda universe.
This may sound patronizing, but it honestly isn’t intended that way. I get it, Nintendo fans have had it hard over these last five years, they have had nothing to be proud of since the launch of the Wii and they have had to stand by their console of choice and defend themselves with very little ammo to defend themselves with, but as a result nowadays when anything better than a car crash is released by them it is inflated by a large number of critics in the industry and so Nintendo fans are given a justification for putting their mediocre games on a pedestal. This is why to the rest of the industry it appears that Nintendo fans can’t accept things for the way that they really are and everything is blown so far out of proportion.
Some examples of Nintendo games being blown out of proportion and reviewers being clouded by nostalgia are available to go and check out right now on Metacritic. Zelda: Skyward Sword is currently sitting at a 93, Zelda: Twilight Princess is sitting at a 95 and Metroid: Other M has a 79. All three of these games are recognized as subpar and once the novelty wore off, even the most hardcore of Nintendo fans would agree that these are forgettable, black marks on the respective franchises track records. Not that BOTW isn’t a game for Zelda fans to be proud of, because it is. I can see why this would be people’s game of the year so far and I can see why it could be considered as the best Zelda game, but to someone that isn’t a Zelda fan that praise is meaningless.
In summary, the inflation of mediocrity in the industry has to stop, if we want gaming to improve. If we want to break new ground across the gaming media, these sycophants and apologists living in a false perception of reality have to go. These novelty games that are applauded for simply carrying the title of a beloved franchise, have to stop being praised so highly and given a free pass of any sort of criticism just because of a nostalgic lens.
While I appreciate that this is a well made game and it is doing new things within the Zelda franchise, these statements stick in my throat a little. This isn’t because I don’t agree that this is an impressive game, because it is. Other than the odd frame rate drop, there aren’t many flaws with this game and I did enjoy the few hours that I spent with it, (I had a lend of a friends Switch for the night so I could try the game for myself.)
My problem comes from the fact that this is a well made game that isn’t doing anything that hasn’t been done before a million times and frankly been done better. Full disclosure, I have never been a Zelda fan, but I wanted this game to convert me and I’m sorry to say that it didn’t. The purpose of this piece isn’t to attack the Zelda franchise, so you fanboys can put your pitchforks down. What I want to discuss is how when Nintendo do anything that is slightly better than a disaster, it is heralded as the brave new step in video games by a large number of the video game press.
I get it, nostalgia is a powerful lens and most writers in their 30’s grew up playing on Nintendo systems and franchises like Mario and Zelda, but as someone who is around ten years younger and grew up with Playstation, I don’t feel that Nintendo has advanced a great deal since the turn of the millennium and frankly, I don’t see Nintendo as having broken any new ground in the last twenty years.
If games like Breath of the Wild came out on another console, they wouldn’t be lauded as the best thing since sliced bread. In fact they have, it’s called Horizon: Zero Dawn! When Horizon came out it received a positive critical reception and high sales, but no one was writing articles claiming it was the next step in the evolution of video games. Splatoon has been put on a pedestal and has been described as ‘fresh,’ and, ‘unique,’ even though it is nothing more than a dumbed down version of Team Fortress 2 for a younger audience. Super Mario Maker was released in 2015 and it was essentially a $60 level editor. Level editors have been included in other games since forever and no fuss has been made, but when Nintendo sell an entire game based on the concept, it’s hailed as another, ‘triumph by Nintendo.’
When you compare Breath of The Wild to other recent open world games like The Witcher or Skyrim, there is nothing that makes it unique from a design and functionality standpoint. If Breath of The Wild came out in 2008, then sure you could get away with labeling it revolutionary, but in this day and age it isn’t any more special than Horizon or Skyrim.
Let’s look at some of the features that have been called unique in the game. The tower climbing to uncover zones of the map mechanic has been done in the Assassin’s Creed and Far Cry series’. Using plants for crafting and cooking has been done in Far Cry and Skyrim. Far Cry 2 and Dead Island had degradable weapons. The inventory system is very reminiscent of multiple Ubisoft titles; essentially Breath of The Wild has taken some elements from other games and made something from that within the Zelda universe.
This may sound patronizing, but it honestly isn’t intended that way. I get it, Nintendo fans have had it hard over these last five years, they have had nothing to be proud of since the launch of the Wii and they have had to stand by their console of choice and defend themselves with very little ammo to defend themselves with, but as a result nowadays when anything better than a car crash is released by them it is inflated by a large number of critics in the industry and so Nintendo fans are given a justification for putting their mediocre games on a pedestal. This is why to the rest of the industry it appears that Nintendo fans can’t accept things for the way that they really are and everything is blown so far out of proportion.
Some examples of Nintendo games being blown out of proportion and reviewers being clouded by nostalgia are available to go and check out right now on Metacritic. Zelda: Skyward Sword is currently sitting at a 93, Zelda: Twilight Princess is sitting at a 95 and Metroid: Other M has a 79. All three of these games are recognized as subpar and once the novelty wore off, even the most hardcore of Nintendo fans would agree that these are forgettable, black marks on the respective franchises track records. Not that BOTW isn’t a game for Zelda fans to be proud of, because it is. I can see why this would be people’s game of the year so far and I can see why it could be considered as the best Zelda game, but to someone that isn’t a Zelda fan that praise is meaningless.
In summary, the inflation of mediocrity in the industry has to stop, if we want gaming to improve. If we want to break new ground across the gaming media, these sycophants and apologists living in a false perception of reality have to go. These novelty games that are applauded for simply carrying the title of a beloved franchise, have to stop being praised so highly and given a free pass of any sort of criticism just because of a nostalgic lens.