Search
Lottie disney bookworm (1056 KP) rated The Wendy (Tales of The Wendy #1) in Books
Dec 29, 2020
Contains spoilers, click to show
If I am being completely honest, Peter Pan has never been my favourite Disney film. Oh sure the lost boys and Michael were cute; Tink was sassy and Hook was a good villain but why did everyone moon over Peter so much? And Wendy was always a bit, well a bit wet!
Enter Erin Michelle Sky and Steven Brown with their Tales of Wendy series to prove me wrong! The Wendy is the first in this series but I am already desperate to finish the second book, The Navigator before their third is released at the end of this year.
The Wendy, as you may expect, centres around Wendy Darling. However, this is not the prissy, mother-idolising figure I love to roll my eyes at: oh no, this Wendy Darling is growing up in the late 1700s in a London orphanage. In a world where her sole career option seems to be to become a mother, this feisty ten-year-old would prefer to “marry Davy Jones than grow up and look after babies”. This Wendy Darling is the one I have been waiting for.
Wendy’s dream is to join the Navy and sail the world. Unlike the rest of 18th Century Britain, she doesn’t see why being a girl should prevent this.
Therefore, over the years she becomes adapt at mathematics, science, navigation, marksmanship and swordsmanship. Nevertheless, despite being just as good, if not better than her childhood friend Charlie, he earns the rank of Officer in the British Navy whilst Wendy is assigned to the Home Office as a Diviner, one who can detect the presence of magic: a post to be filled only by women and dogs.
It is here that the reader meets John and Michael: Wendy’s “brothers-in-arms but in no way related, despite what you may have heard”. They are all stationed in Dover Castle, along with the Brigade’s dog Nana (who else?!). Their mission: to protect Britain from a magical threat, the innisfay or “everlost”, whom are known to kidnap orphans. Sound familiar?
The Wendy is definitely the best retelling of Peter Pan I have read so far. Despite the presence of all our favourite names, the characters are a far cry from their animated counterparts. Michael and John are wonderfully dry and sarcastic; Hook is powerful and attractive; Tink is a shape shifter; Peter, despite possessing a pair of wings and armour, is essentially the same and Wendy is an ambitious, feisty, yet beautifully flawed protagonist.
There are many little nods to the film which are greatly appreciated. Wendy “moving out of the nursery” means leaving the orphanage and gaining an apprenticeship and “thinking happy thoughts” as a means of flight is a practical joke by Peter to make Wendy smile.
Sky and Brown’s conversationalist style of writing makes this a very easy read, despite Wendy galloping all over the South of England with a variety of characters. It also allows the reader to really bond with Wendy and empathise with her and her struggles to achieve the employment she has longed so for since childhood.
As you may have gathered, sexism plays a large part in Wendy’s uphill struggle: as the only main female character she is constantly undermined in her ambition to become a sailor. Even when she proves to be useful in her post within the Home Office she is removed to the country “for her own safety”. Those men whom do not undermine her moon after her romantically: it truly is infuriating.
In some situations, this ingrained attitude was slightly heart-breaking but equally a sign of the times in which this novel was set: Wendy’s thoughts often returned to the propriety of her actions and the danger she experiences just through wearing “men’s clothes” is powerful moment. However, Wendy never lets these attitudes halt her ambition, ending her first novel as a true inspiration to girls following in her footsteps: Navigator Darling.
I can’t wait to discover the next step in her journey which, conveniently, lays past the second star to the right and straight on till morning!
Enter Erin Michelle Sky and Steven Brown with their Tales of Wendy series to prove me wrong! The Wendy is the first in this series but I am already desperate to finish the second book, The Navigator before their third is released at the end of this year.
The Wendy, as you may expect, centres around Wendy Darling. However, this is not the prissy, mother-idolising figure I love to roll my eyes at: oh no, this Wendy Darling is growing up in the late 1700s in a London orphanage. In a world where her sole career option seems to be to become a mother, this feisty ten-year-old would prefer to “marry Davy Jones than grow up and look after babies”. This Wendy Darling is the one I have been waiting for.
Wendy’s dream is to join the Navy and sail the world. Unlike the rest of 18th Century Britain, she doesn’t see why being a girl should prevent this.
Therefore, over the years she becomes adapt at mathematics, science, navigation, marksmanship and swordsmanship. Nevertheless, despite being just as good, if not better than her childhood friend Charlie, he earns the rank of Officer in the British Navy whilst Wendy is assigned to the Home Office as a Diviner, one who can detect the presence of magic: a post to be filled only by women and dogs.
It is here that the reader meets John and Michael: Wendy’s “brothers-in-arms but in no way related, despite what you may have heard”. They are all stationed in Dover Castle, along with the Brigade’s dog Nana (who else?!). Their mission: to protect Britain from a magical threat, the innisfay or “everlost”, whom are known to kidnap orphans. Sound familiar?
The Wendy is definitely the best retelling of Peter Pan I have read so far. Despite the presence of all our favourite names, the characters are a far cry from their animated counterparts. Michael and John are wonderfully dry and sarcastic; Hook is powerful and attractive; Tink is a shape shifter; Peter, despite possessing a pair of wings and armour, is essentially the same and Wendy is an ambitious, feisty, yet beautifully flawed protagonist.
There are many little nods to the film which are greatly appreciated. Wendy “moving out of the nursery” means leaving the orphanage and gaining an apprenticeship and “thinking happy thoughts” as a means of flight is a practical joke by Peter to make Wendy smile.
Sky and Brown’s conversationalist style of writing makes this a very easy read, despite Wendy galloping all over the South of England with a variety of characters. It also allows the reader to really bond with Wendy and empathise with her and her struggles to achieve the employment she has longed so for since childhood.
As you may have gathered, sexism plays a large part in Wendy’s uphill struggle: as the only main female character she is constantly undermined in her ambition to become a sailor. Even when she proves to be useful in her post within the Home Office she is removed to the country “for her own safety”. Those men whom do not undermine her moon after her romantically: it truly is infuriating.
In some situations, this ingrained attitude was slightly heart-breaking but equally a sign of the times in which this novel was set: Wendy’s thoughts often returned to the propriety of her actions and the danger she experiences just through wearing “men’s clothes” is powerful moment. However, Wendy never lets these attitudes halt her ambition, ending her first novel as a true inspiration to girls following in her footsteps: Navigator Darling.
I can’t wait to discover the next step in her journey which, conveniently, lays past the second star to the right and straight on till morning!
Heather Cranmer (2721 KP) rated When the Men Were Gone in Books
May 20, 2019
There was something about the synopsis of When the Men Were Gone by Marjorie Herrera Lewis that really reeled me in. Perhaps it's because this story takes place in Brownwood, Texas which is a place I've visited and loved. Perhaps it was because it was based on a true story and about a woman rising up to a challenge to take on a man's role back in the day when things like that were unheard of. Either way, I must say that I really enjoyed this book.
Tylene Wilson loves football. In fact, football is all she's ever really known since she was a very little girl thanks to her father. When both male football coaches for the high school she works at go off to war in the Autumn of 1944, she desperately tries to find another male coach to take the job. If she doesn't, the Brownwood Lions football season will be over before it even began, and all the senior boys will more than likely end up enlisted fighting in World War II. After struggling to find a suitable coach, Tylene decides to coach the football team herself. When word gets out that a woman will be coaching a football team, people in and around Brownwood let it be known that they are very opposed to the idea. Even Tylene's close friends snub their nose at the idea. People try to get the Brownood Lions' football season cancelled, but Tylene will not let that happen if she can help it. Will Tylene be able to convince everyone that a woman can coach football just as good as a man?
I found the plot for When the Men Were Gone to be solid. As I've stated previously, this book is based on a true story. I had never heard of Tylene Wilson until I read Marjorie Herrera Lewis' book. I found it extremely interesting to have a glimpse into what Tylene Wilson may have had to go through. Lewis does a fantastic job at imagining what Tylene's life was like and what life in the small town of Brownwood would have been like around 1944. I could not find any fault with the story telling. In fact, I felt like I was transported into the book and was amidst all the action watching the story unfold. I will admit that I did not understand most of the football jargon though, but that didn't really take too much away from the story. As with most historical fiction novels, there were no major plot twists, but all my questions were answered. There was not cliffhanger ending.
I enjoyed the character of Tylene. Lewis did an amazing job at making me feel as if I knew Tylene. At times, I felt like I was Tylene. I could feel how stressed she was at times and how much her students and football meant to her. Tylene was such a strong female character. I just loved her and her determination! Moose was another character I loved. I admired his loyalty even though he was aware of the backlash. Jimmy was another interesting character to read about. I was intrigued to read about his struggles to play football for a "lady coach." On one hand, he admired Tylene and knew that she knew her stuff when it came to football. On the other hand, he was still a teenage boy open to peer pressure living in a time when woman were doing the traditional roles.
The pacing for When the Men Were Gone starts out a bit slow. There were a bunch of character names thrown out in the first few chapters which left me feeling confused about who was who. However, I quickly caught on, and the pacing picked up decently.
Trigger warnings for When the Men Were Gone include sexism, bigotry, misogyny, drunkenness, and some war violence.
All in all, When the Men Were Gone is a short read that packs a huge punch! Based on a true story, this novel has a fantastically strong female lead and plenty of drama that will definitely keep its reader hooked. I would definitely recommend When the Men Were Gone by Marjorie Herrera Lewis to those aged 15+ who enjoy football and love a story with a very strong female lead. I would give this book a 4 out of 5.
--
(Thanks to the Marjorie Herrera Lewis for providing me with a paperback of When the Men Were Gone in exchange for an honest and unbiased review.)
Tylene Wilson loves football. In fact, football is all she's ever really known since she was a very little girl thanks to her father. When both male football coaches for the high school she works at go off to war in the Autumn of 1944, she desperately tries to find another male coach to take the job. If she doesn't, the Brownwood Lions football season will be over before it even began, and all the senior boys will more than likely end up enlisted fighting in World War II. After struggling to find a suitable coach, Tylene decides to coach the football team herself. When word gets out that a woman will be coaching a football team, people in and around Brownwood let it be known that they are very opposed to the idea. Even Tylene's close friends snub their nose at the idea. People try to get the Brownood Lions' football season cancelled, but Tylene will not let that happen if she can help it. Will Tylene be able to convince everyone that a woman can coach football just as good as a man?
I found the plot for When the Men Were Gone to be solid. As I've stated previously, this book is based on a true story. I had never heard of Tylene Wilson until I read Marjorie Herrera Lewis' book. I found it extremely interesting to have a glimpse into what Tylene Wilson may have had to go through. Lewis does a fantastic job at imagining what Tylene's life was like and what life in the small town of Brownwood would have been like around 1944. I could not find any fault with the story telling. In fact, I felt like I was transported into the book and was amidst all the action watching the story unfold. I will admit that I did not understand most of the football jargon though, but that didn't really take too much away from the story. As with most historical fiction novels, there were no major plot twists, but all my questions were answered. There was not cliffhanger ending.
I enjoyed the character of Tylene. Lewis did an amazing job at making me feel as if I knew Tylene. At times, I felt like I was Tylene. I could feel how stressed she was at times and how much her students and football meant to her. Tylene was such a strong female character. I just loved her and her determination! Moose was another character I loved. I admired his loyalty even though he was aware of the backlash. Jimmy was another interesting character to read about. I was intrigued to read about his struggles to play football for a "lady coach." On one hand, he admired Tylene and knew that she knew her stuff when it came to football. On the other hand, he was still a teenage boy open to peer pressure living in a time when woman were doing the traditional roles.
The pacing for When the Men Were Gone starts out a bit slow. There were a bunch of character names thrown out in the first few chapters which left me feeling confused about who was who. However, I quickly caught on, and the pacing picked up decently.
Trigger warnings for When the Men Were Gone include sexism, bigotry, misogyny, drunkenness, and some war violence.
All in all, When the Men Were Gone is a short read that packs a huge punch! Based on a true story, this novel has a fantastically strong female lead and plenty of drama that will definitely keep its reader hooked. I would definitely recommend When the Men Were Gone by Marjorie Herrera Lewis to those aged 15+ who enjoy football and love a story with a very strong female lead. I would give this book a 4 out of 5.
--
(Thanks to the Marjorie Herrera Lewis for providing me with a paperback of When the Men Were Gone in exchange for an honest and unbiased review.)
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.
Bob Mann (459 KP) rated Fast & Furious Presents: Hobbs & Shaw (2019) in Movies
Sep 28, 2021
Good popcorn nonsense.
“Remember who we are. The Shaw family. We never, never, never give up.”
(That title is especially for my friends the Shaw family!).
Well, the patchy British summer’s just about up, and autumn’s chilly fingers are touching up the UK. And yet I still hadn’t seen the summer hit “Hobbs and Shaw”! Until last night.
It’s utter nonsense of course, like most of the “Fast and Furious” films, but I have to admit it’s done with some tongue in cheek style.
The plot
A vicious cyber-soldier, Brixton (Idris Elba) tries to steal a deadly virus but is thwarted by brave MI6 agent Hattie (Vanessa Kirby). To help recover the virus, Deckard Shaw (Jason Statham) is recruited in London by CIA agent Loeb (Rob Delaney, the “non-super” hero Peter in “Deadpool 2“). In an interesting piece of related casting, the Eteon Director (Champ Nightengale – LoL, a cameo for someone far more famous) recruits Luke Hobbs (Dwayne Johnson) in LA as a part of the team.
Both agents know they are heading for trouble… but do they really appreciate how much the pair hate each other’s guts?
The trail leads from London to the Ukraine to (a very picturesque) Samoa in a race against time to both defeat the undefeatable Brixton and save Hattie: now a ticking time bomb of global destruction. And Hattie has relations!
Absurd stunts.
As a “Fast and Furious” film there are of course some truly absurd car stunts involved and – unlike the Mission Impossible films – you are never quite sure what is “real” and what is CGI generated. Which is a shame.
For me, the gold standard for chases remains Tom Cruise‘s chase through Paris in “Mission Impossible: Fallout“. Here, the car chase through London – whilst impressive – never quite reaches the seat clenching tension of MI6.
And a final stunt with a helicopter is – I’m sorry – just plain ridiculous. If a chopper can partially lift 5 x load then why can’t it completely lift 1 x load. Give me a break!
To round things off, there is one of the most unbelievable “100% survival of a car crashing off a cliff” scenes in movie history!
Acting
The acting is largely from the Arnie Swartzenegger school, with Johnson and Statham giving it the old shtick. Dwayne Johnson may be one of Hollywood’s most bankable stars (the boy has done REAL good for himself), but he can’t do serious acting. His “pathos” scenes with his daughter (a vibrant Eliana Sua) are excruciating.
Dropping in as class acts are Helen Mirren as the elder Shaw and the excellent Vanessa Kirby as Hattie. Kirby gets a lot more to get her teeth into than in the last Mission Impossible movie, and is really very good. Mirren is rather too posh to be the incarcerated East End con, but is a fun turn nevertheless.
Also excellent, as always, is Eddie Marsan as the key scientist. Marsan really turns in a splendid performance in every film he’s in. He’s top of “Division 2” in my books. Never the star, but always starring.
Mexican actress Eiza González (from “Baby Driver“) also crops up as an unfeasibly good-looking Russian femme fatale.
“I hate you”. “No, I hate you”. Blah, blah, blah.
Writers Chris Morgan and Drew Pearce do a good job at keeping the script light and fluffy. The animosity between Hobbs and Shaw is played to 110%, and for me the interplay frankly became a bit tiresome. But it’s a fun-enough film to entertain, although it’s bladder-testing running time of 2 hours 17 minutes is at least 30 minutes too long. There is a natural Ukraine-based finale, but it’s not taken, and the film goes on… and on… and on…. and on. Enough already.
I’ve said many times before that comedies shouldn’t last more than 90 minutes, and although an “action film” this is fundamentally a comedy and the rule should apply. It would have been a much better film if it was compacted.
Sexism diverted.
I did criticize “Fast and Furious 8” for scenes that brazenly objectified women. And there was a moment – just one, fortunately – with a gyrating bikini-clad beauty – where I thought “uh, oh” – this franchise has not moved with the times.
But actually, this was the only scene where I thought that. Cinema has moved along massively in the last two years, driven by the “Times Up” movement. Here the women are all given pretty leading “kick-ass” roles, and they generally show the muscle-bound morons up, often saving their arses.
Final Thoughts.
It’s summer popcorn nonsense, but its well done popcorn nonsense. Probably not a film high on my list of films I want to see again, but as an entertainment vehicle it was not too shabby.
(That title is especially for my friends the Shaw family!).
Well, the patchy British summer’s just about up, and autumn’s chilly fingers are touching up the UK. And yet I still hadn’t seen the summer hit “Hobbs and Shaw”! Until last night.
It’s utter nonsense of course, like most of the “Fast and Furious” films, but I have to admit it’s done with some tongue in cheek style.
The plot
A vicious cyber-soldier, Brixton (Idris Elba) tries to steal a deadly virus but is thwarted by brave MI6 agent Hattie (Vanessa Kirby). To help recover the virus, Deckard Shaw (Jason Statham) is recruited in London by CIA agent Loeb (Rob Delaney, the “non-super” hero Peter in “Deadpool 2“). In an interesting piece of related casting, the Eteon Director (Champ Nightengale – LoL, a cameo for someone far more famous) recruits Luke Hobbs (Dwayne Johnson) in LA as a part of the team.
Both agents know they are heading for trouble… but do they really appreciate how much the pair hate each other’s guts?
The trail leads from London to the Ukraine to (a very picturesque) Samoa in a race against time to both defeat the undefeatable Brixton and save Hattie: now a ticking time bomb of global destruction. And Hattie has relations!
Absurd stunts.
As a “Fast and Furious” film there are of course some truly absurd car stunts involved and – unlike the Mission Impossible films – you are never quite sure what is “real” and what is CGI generated. Which is a shame.
For me, the gold standard for chases remains Tom Cruise‘s chase through Paris in “Mission Impossible: Fallout“. Here, the car chase through London – whilst impressive – never quite reaches the seat clenching tension of MI6.
And a final stunt with a helicopter is – I’m sorry – just plain ridiculous. If a chopper can partially lift 5 x load then why can’t it completely lift 1 x load. Give me a break!
To round things off, there is one of the most unbelievable “100% survival of a car crashing off a cliff” scenes in movie history!
Acting
The acting is largely from the Arnie Swartzenegger school, with Johnson and Statham giving it the old shtick. Dwayne Johnson may be one of Hollywood’s most bankable stars (the boy has done REAL good for himself), but he can’t do serious acting. His “pathos” scenes with his daughter (a vibrant Eliana Sua) are excruciating.
Dropping in as class acts are Helen Mirren as the elder Shaw and the excellent Vanessa Kirby as Hattie. Kirby gets a lot more to get her teeth into than in the last Mission Impossible movie, and is really very good. Mirren is rather too posh to be the incarcerated East End con, but is a fun turn nevertheless.
Also excellent, as always, is Eddie Marsan as the key scientist. Marsan really turns in a splendid performance in every film he’s in. He’s top of “Division 2” in my books. Never the star, but always starring.
Mexican actress Eiza González (from “Baby Driver“) also crops up as an unfeasibly good-looking Russian femme fatale.
“I hate you”. “No, I hate you”. Blah, blah, blah.
Writers Chris Morgan and Drew Pearce do a good job at keeping the script light and fluffy. The animosity between Hobbs and Shaw is played to 110%, and for me the interplay frankly became a bit tiresome. But it’s a fun-enough film to entertain, although it’s bladder-testing running time of 2 hours 17 minutes is at least 30 minutes too long. There is a natural Ukraine-based finale, but it’s not taken, and the film goes on… and on… and on…. and on. Enough already.
I’ve said many times before that comedies shouldn’t last more than 90 minutes, and although an “action film” this is fundamentally a comedy and the rule should apply. It would have been a much better film if it was compacted.
Sexism diverted.
I did criticize “Fast and Furious 8” for scenes that brazenly objectified women. And there was a moment – just one, fortunately – with a gyrating bikini-clad beauty – where I thought “uh, oh” – this franchise has not moved with the times.
But actually, this was the only scene where I thought that. Cinema has moved along massively in the last two years, driven by the “Times Up” movement. Here the women are all given pretty leading “kick-ass” roles, and they generally show the muscle-bound morons up, often saving their arses.
Final Thoughts.
It’s summer popcorn nonsense, but its well done popcorn nonsense. Probably not a film high on my list of films I want to see again, but as an entertainment vehicle it was not too shabby.
Mandy and G.D. Burkhead (26 KP) rated The Grey Bastards in Books
May 20, 2018
Shelf Life – The Grey Bastards Exemplifies Grimdark Fantasy at Its Damn Finest
Contains spoilers, click to show
The Grey Bastards is a fun, foul-mouthed read. If you’re turned off by bad language, steamy sex, or a good plot with plenty of action and twists, then this book isn’t for you. The Grey Bastards falls into the fantasy sub-genre known as grimdark. Where high fantasy has your Tolkien beautiful and noble elves, dwarves, humans, and wizards with epic battles between good and evil, grimdark takes all of that and covers it in shit, pus, and blood. Notice how in high fantasy nobody ever takes a piss or fucks? In grimdark, everyone does.
But don’t be fooled into thinking this book will be any less intelligent, epic, or heartfelt for it. The Grey Bastards is all of that and more. The novel follows Jackal, a half-breed orc living in the Lot Lands, the barren desert wasteland of Hispartha. He is a Grey Bastard, one of many half-orc hoofs, each protecting its own small town in the Lots. Members of a hoof are elite warriors that ride out on their Barbarians—giant warthogs—and slaughter invading bands of orcs.
Hispartha is a vibrant world, with a mix of fantastical species (orcs, half-orcs, elves, humans, halflings, and centaurs) with unique cultures and religions. Hispartha itself takes influences from Reconquista Spain, which is especially noticeable in the nomenclature, geography, and architecture.
The primarily atheistic half-orcs recently won their freedom from slavery at the hands of humans. Humans treat the half-orcs like second-class citizens, but tolerate them because of their strength, using them as a shield from the orcs. The elves are beautiful, reclusive, and probably the most cliché; there is one important elf character, but for the most part, we don’t get a good look into their culture in the first book. The centaurs worship Romanesque deities and go on crazed, Bacchanalian killing sprees during the blood moon.
Besides the half-orcs, the halflings are perhaps the most interesting. I still have a hard time visualizing them, trying to figure out if they are thin, pixie-like creatures or more stocky like dwarves. Their small stature and black skin makes me think of pygmies. They worship a god they expect will reincarnate someday, (view spoiler)
One thing that has always annoyed me about fantasy is that many authors feel that the characters of their world, being pre-industrial and thus “medieval,” must all be white, straight, Christian (or proto-Christian), cisgender males. If a woman appears at all is to act as the damsel, prize, or, if she’s lucky, a mystical enchantress to guide the heroes or provide a maguffin. It has come to the point in which this has become a tired and accepted baseline for fantasy. I don’t necessarily think that these fantasy authors are intentionally trying to be uninclusive, so much as they just seem to forget that other groups of people can exist in fantasy thanks to its fathers, Tolkien and Lewis.
But enough with my rant, the purpose of which is to highlight why I am often drawn to grimdark fantasy: at the very least I know that women, people of color, lgbt people, and other religions will be present, even if they are often victimized. This is because grimdark fantasy honestly depicts the horrors of rape, war, murder, slavery, and racism (or rather, speciesism in most cases) and has heroes and villains that are morally grey.
However, many authors describe these atrocities and then leave it at that, assuming that simply depicting them is enough to make a book mature and meaningful. They often fail to make any sort of statement on evil, and thus can seem to be, at best, blindly accepting it and, at worst, glorifying it (this often happens in the cases of magnificent bastard characters, who are absolute monsters but are so charming you almost respect or like them).
Jonathan French, however, does not fall short of the mark as many authors do, and for two main reasons: humor and humanity.
Let’s start with the humor. This book is hilarious. I mean in the I literally laughed out loud while reading it way. Sure, the jokes are often crass, but I have a dirty mind, so inappropriate humor is my favorite kind. The dialogue is especially top-notch, and the interactions between Jackal and his friends Fetching and Oats feel genuine, full of in-jokes, insults, and sexually-charged humor, all of which are exactly how I interact with my own close friends. And every major character in this book is so damn witty that I’m honestly jealous of them. If I could be quick enough to make even one of their zingers at the right time in a conversation, I would feel proud of myself for the rest of the day.
Humor is necessary to prevent any grimdark fantasy from becoming too over-the-top or depressing. And honestly, humor is needed most when the world is a dark and frightening place. But too much humor could accidentally downplay the point of grimdark: the brutally honest depiction of the atrocities that people are capable of.
And this is where it is important to have an element of humanity. By this I mean that the “good guys” must make some action or statement on those atrocities. Too often I read or watch hardened badass characters with no emotion who can watch a person get tortured and killed without flinching (maybe even do it themselves) and who never stop to question the nature of their society (even as part of their character growth), and I have difficulty finding them at all relatable or even the least bit interesting.
Now, often for this type of character, he or she is dead inside as a coping mechanism and part of their character arc is learning to allow themselves to feel their repressed emotions: heartbreak, anger, fear, etc. This can be done very well (see The Hunger Games for a great example—dystopian scifi and grimdark fantasy have very similar undertones). But most times it just ends up falling flat.
But Jackal already starts out with more personality than most grimdark protagonists. He is a humorous and light-hearted person. Sure, he lives in a desert wasteland, his race is entirely created by rape, he’s treated as a second-class citizen, and his life and the lives of those around him are in constant danger of rape and/or murder by invading orcs or blood-crazed centaurs. But despite all of that, he still has a sense of humor, people he loves, a community, ambitions, moral code, and all of the other things that these protagonists are often lacking.
Don’t get me wrong, he can be an asshole, and he’s often acts rashly before he thinks. But the scene that really stuck with me the most was [when Jackal and the wizard Crafty come across an unconscious elf sex-slave. I was expecting him to say something along the lines of “There’s nothing we can do for her, we have to save ourselves” or “This isn’t any of our business” or “It would be best to just put her out of her mercy.” These are the typical lines that a grimdark protagonist might utter while their companion—accused of being a bleeding heart—frees the slave. But this was not the case. Jackal and Crafty both immediately set out to free the girl and steal her away from her owner, despite the danger to themselves. And when he comes across an entire castle-full of these women, Jackal again sets about freeing them without a moment’s hesitation. (hide spoiler)]
And it’s no surprise that Jackal has a serious problem with rape. As I’ve mentioned before, half-orcs are entirely the product of roving bands of orcs raping human, elven, or even half-orc women. [When Jackal learns that Starling, the elf slave he rescued, is pregnant with a half-orc baby, he is not only furious with the orcs that gang-raped her, but also disturbed by the fact that elven society shuns any of their women who have been raped, and that these victims often end up taking their own lives rather than give birth to an impure half-elf. (hide spoiler)]
Furthermore, Jackal, unlike many people in Hispartha, does not buy into misogyny or sexism. His best friend Fetching is the first female half-orc to have joined a group of riders. Not only does Jackal respect Fetching, he understands the emotional turmoil that she is dealing with being the first female rider and how she overcompensates as a result to earn the respect of the other men.
While there is quite a bit of speciesism (pretty much none of the species get along with one another), the inhabitants of Hispartha come in every skin color and nobody gives a damn. Furthermore, sexuality is primarily treated as each person’s individual preference and nobody else’s business. While characters may make jokes about acting “backy” (gay), these are made in good humor between friends, and nobody gets particularly offended by them. Fetching is herself openly bisexual (though she seems to suppress her heterosexual desires more than her homosexual ones out of that same need to be “one of the boys”), and Oats and Jackal are one of my favorite bromantic pairings.
Grimdark fantasy can often be depressing to read. But Jonathan French does an excellent job of infusing hope into his narrative. The story actually has a happier ending than I was expecting. [I was especially pleased when Jackal chooses Fetching to be the new leader of the hoof (she is voted in unanimously by the other riders). I find it incredibly annoying in books and movies when revolutionaries/usurpers decide to appoint themselves leaders, as the former does not qualify you for the latter. Part of Jackal’s arc is realizing that he is not meant to lead the hoof like he’d once desired. (hide spoiler)]
For the sequel, The True Bastards, I’m hoping to see [if a cure can be found for the thrice-blood child now infected with plague, how Fetching is doing leading the hoof, and what the mysterious Starling is up to (I don’t buy for a second that she’s killed herself). And of course, I fully expect that Jackal is going to have to fulfill his empty promise to the halfling’s resurrected god, Belico.
But don’t be fooled into thinking this book will be any less intelligent, epic, or heartfelt for it. The Grey Bastards is all of that and more. The novel follows Jackal, a half-breed orc living in the Lot Lands, the barren desert wasteland of Hispartha. He is a Grey Bastard, one of many half-orc hoofs, each protecting its own small town in the Lots. Members of a hoof are elite warriors that ride out on their Barbarians—giant warthogs—and slaughter invading bands of orcs.
Hispartha is a vibrant world, with a mix of fantastical species (orcs, half-orcs, elves, humans, halflings, and centaurs) with unique cultures and religions. Hispartha itself takes influences from Reconquista Spain, which is especially noticeable in the nomenclature, geography, and architecture.
The primarily atheistic half-orcs recently won their freedom from slavery at the hands of humans. Humans treat the half-orcs like second-class citizens, but tolerate them because of their strength, using them as a shield from the orcs. The elves are beautiful, reclusive, and probably the most cliché; there is one important elf character, but for the most part, we don’t get a good look into their culture in the first book. The centaurs worship Romanesque deities and go on crazed, Bacchanalian killing sprees during the blood moon.
Besides the half-orcs, the halflings are perhaps the most interesting. I still have a hard time visualizing them, trying to figure out if they are thin, pixie-like creatures or more stocky like dwarves. Their small stature and black skin makes me think of pygmies. They worship a god they expect will reincarnate someday, (view spoiler)
One thing that has always annoyed me about fantasy is that many authors feel that the characters of their world, being pre-industrial and thus “medieval,” must all be white, straight, Christian (or proto-Christian), cisgender males. If a woman appears at all is to act as the damsel, prize, or, if she’s lucky, a mystical enchantress to guide the heroes or provide a maguffin. It has come to the point in which this has become a tired and accepted baseline for fantasy. I don’t necessarily think that these fantasy authors are intentionally trying to be uninclusive, so much as they just seem to forget that other groups of people can exist in fantasy thanks to its fathers, Tolkien and Lewis.
But enough with my rant, the purpose of which is to highlight why I am often drawn to grimdark fantasy: at the very least I know that women, people of color, lgbt people, and other religions will be present, even if they are often victimized. This is because grimdark fantasy honestly depicts the horrors of rape, war, murder, slavery, and racism (or rather, speciesism in most cases) and has heroes and villains that are morally grey.
However, many authors describe these atrocities and then leave it at that, assuming that simply depicting them is enough to make a book mature and meaningful. They often fail to make any sort of statement on evil, and thus can seem to be, at best, blindly accepting it and, at worst, glorifying it (this often happens in the cases of magnificent bastard characters, who are absolute monsters but are so charming you almost respect or like them).
Jonathan French, however, does not fall short of the mark as many authors do, and for two main reasons: humor and humanity.
Let’s start with the humor. This book is hilarious. I mean in the I literally laughed out loud while reading it way. Sure, the jokes are often crass, but I have a dirty mind, so inappropriate humor is my favorite kind. The dialogue is especially top-notch, and the interactions between Jackal and his friends Fetching and Oats feel genuine, full of in-jokes, insults, and sexually-charged humor, all of which are exactly how I interact with my own close friends. And every major character in this book is so damn witty that I’m honestly jealous of them. If I could be quick enough to make even one of their zingers at the right time in a conversation, I would feel proud of myself for the rest of the day.
Humor is necessary to prevent any grimdark fantasy from becoming too over-the-top or depressing. And honestly, humor is needed most when the world is a dark and frightening place. But too much humor could accidentally downplay the point of grimdark: the brutally honest depiction of the atrocities that people are capable of.
And this is where it is important to have an element of humanity. By this I mean that the “good guys” must make some action or statement on those atrocities. Too often I read or watch hardened badass characters with no emotion who can watch a person get tortured and killed without flinching (maybe even do it themselves) and who never stop to question the nature of their society (even as part of their character growth), and I have difficulty finding them at all relatable or even the least bit interesting.
Now, often for this type of character, he or she is dead inside as a coping mechanism and part of their character arc is learning to allow themselves to feel their repressed emotions: heartbreak, anger, fear, etc. This can be done very well (see The Hunger Games for a great example—dystopian scifi and grimdark fantasy have very similar undertones). But most times it just ends up falling flat.
But Jackal already starts out with more personality than most grimdark protagonists. He is a humorous and light-hearted person. Sure, he lives in a desert wasteland, his race is entirely created by rape, he’s treated as a second-class citizen, and his life and the lives of those around him are in constant danger of rape and/or murder by invading orcs or blood-crazed centaurs. But despite all of that, he still has a sense of humor, people he loves, a community, ambitions, moral code, and all of the other things that these protagonists are often lacking.
Don’t get me wrong, he can be an asshole, and he’s often acts rashly before he thinks. But the scene that really stuck with me the most was [when Jackal and the wizard Crafty come across an unconscious elf sex-slave. I was expecting him to say something along the lines of “There’s nothing we can do for her, we have to save ourselves” or “This isn’t any of our business” or “It would be best to just put her out of her mercy.” These are the typical lines that a grimdark protagonist might utter while their companion—accused of being a bleeding heart—frees the slave. But this was not the case. Jackal and Crafty both immediately set out to free the girl and steal her away from her owner, despite the danger to themselves. And when he comes across an entire castle-full of these women, Jackal again sets about freeing them without a moment’s hesitation. (hide spoiler)]
And it’s no surprise that Jackal has a serious problem with rape. As I’ve mentioned before, half-orcs are entirely the product of roving bands of orcs raping human, elven, or even half-orc women. [When Jackal learns that Starling, the elf slave he rescued, is pregnant with a half-orc baby, he is not only furious with the orcs that gang-raped her, but also disturbed by the fact that elven society shuns any of their women who have been raped, and that these victims often end up taking their own lives rather than give birth to an impure half-elf. (hide spoiler)]
Furthermore, Jackal, unlike many people in Hispartha, does not buy into misogyny or sexism. His best friend Fetching is the first female half-orc to have joined a group of riders. Not only does Jackal respect Fetching, he understands the emotional turmoil that she is dealing with being the first female rider and how she overcompensates as a result to earn the respect of the other men.
While there is quite a bit of speciesism (pretty much none of the species get along with one another), the inhabitants of Hispartha come in every skin color and nobody gives a damn. Furthermore, sexuality is primarily treated as each person’s individual preference and nobody else’s business. While characters may make jokes about acting “backy” (gay), these are made in good humor between friends, and nobody gets particularly offended by them. Fetching is herself openly bisexual (though she seems to suppress her heterosexual desires more than her homosexual ones out of that same need to be “one of the boys”), and Oats and Jackal are one of my favorite bromantic pairings.
Grimdark fantasy can often be depressing to read. But Jonathan French does an excellent job of infusing hope into his narrative. The story actually has a happier ending than I was expecting. [I was especially pleased when Jackal chooses Fetching to be the new leader of the hoof (she is voted in unanimously by the other riders). I find it incredibly annoying in books and movies when revolutionaries/usurpers decide to appoint themselves leaders, as the former does not qualify you for the latter. Part of Jackal’s arc is realizing that he is not meant to lead the hoof like he’d once desired. (hide spoiler)]
For the sequel, The True Bastards, I’m hoping to see [if a cure can be found for the thrice-blood child now infected with plague, how Fetching is doing leading the hoof, and what the mysterious Starling is up to (I don’t buy for a second that she’s killed herself). And of course, I fully expect that Jackal is going to have to fulfill his empty promise to the halfling’s resurrected god, Belico.