Short Story Review - Sandkings (George R. R. Martin)

Before his epic A Song of Ice and Fire series, George R. R. Martin was best known for writing short stories, either science-fiction, fantasy, horror or a blend of these genres. “Sandkings” is the first of these that I've read, and what a story it is to start with.

Simon Kress is a rich snob who lives in a fancy mansion in the desert of the planet Baldur. Kress has no real job to speak of, and his favourite hobby is buying obscure and ferocious pets to watch them tear each other apart. Bored one day, Kress discovers a quaint petshop which offers him a remarkable new attraction: sandkings. These ant-like creatures live in vast colonies overseen by an ever-ravenous maw, and maintained by an army of mobiles. Kress buys four colonies to put on elaborate war set-pieces for himself and his equally voyeuristic friends.

To the shock of absolutely no one, Kress's playtime comes to a halt when his minions start to act quite strangely ...

“Sandkings” is a wonderful blend of genres. It has all the trappings of a Gothic classic – the vain and sadistic aristocrat, the slave rebelling against its master, the corrupted mirror image of the protagonist (in this case, the hideous likenesses of Kress's face the sandkings carve on the walls of their domains). By situating it on another planet however, Martin gives the concept a twist that makes the story feel fresh.

Kress is a suitably vile character for this type of story, and it gives the story a satisfactory bite as his power fantasy is eaten away by his former pets. Another character of note is the mysterious Jala Wo, the shopowner who supplies Kress with the sandkings. While Kress's fate is clear from the outset, Martin keeps the reader guessing about Wo's own motivations right until the end. In this way, he hints at a universe with more depth than just a setting for his macabre story.

The story revels in the violence and destruction of the sandkings. Spiders, snakes, puppies and eventually people are all dispatched with little remorse. And, not content there, Martin ends on a chilling note that suggests the sandkings' march is not finished yet.

If you're burning with anticipation for the next ASOIAF entry, or just want a dalliance into the dark nether-regions of science-fiction, I cannot recommend “Sandkings” enough.

Book Review - Wolf Hall (Hilary Mantel)

This isn't really a review as such, due to both the book's complex style and my general ignorance of the period. The best I can do is sum up by experience reading it.

For three years, my copy of Wolf Hall sat on my shelf having only been opened once. The story of a lowborn man rising through the ranks through his own cunning was a fascinating one, but I was daunted by both the length of the book, and its present tense prose, of which I'm not a huge fan. I was also largely ignorant of Tudor England (and still am) so this was another factor that put me off reading for quite some time.

Having read the book, it's clear that you'd have to read it several times to really pick up on the nuances of the text and its characters. Unsurprisingly, you also need an indepth understanding of the period, not just the events, but the people and their personalities. I admit, it got quite frustrating trying to remember which Thomas or Mary was which, or who was related to whom. This obscurity made it hard at times to engage with the text and made reading it feel more like a chore than a pleasure.

That said, I can understand why Mantel wrote this way. The intricacies of the “plot” work to entice the reader, but she holds things back to entice the reader into studying the period more. While I didn't instantly start reading up on Tudor history after I'd finished reading, I can see myself returning to this book repeatedly to try and make sense of it. While not the easiest read, it certainly poses a fascinating challenge. Before returning though, I see I will have to study the period more to gain more from the text.

Mantel's ambiguous approach to history can be seen especially in her treatment of Cromwell himself. Although the whole book is from his perspective, he remains a shadowy figure throughout. There are hints of his ruthlessness (like when he imagines pushing George Cavendish into the Thames), his humanity (when he remembers his lost family) and his beliefs (when he raves against the idolatry of the Catholic Church). These moments of clarity struck me all the more because for the most part, Cromwell was hard for me to figure out.

Perhaps Mantel was trying to hook the reader as I described earlier. Or perhaps she wanted to pay homage to Cromwell's cunning by making him an enigma to the reader. One novel touch was that for the most part, Cromwell isn't referred to by name, but as “he”. This is just one more way to make him seem more like an element instead of a person. In this regard, I can't really say that this book humanizes Cromwell as such, but it still leaves a strong impression all the same.

I can't speak for Tudor experts, but if you're a fan of history or courtly intrigue, I would still say Wolf Hall is worth a look.

Film Review - Night of the Hunter

Night of the Hunter opens with Harry Powell (Robert Mitchum), a preacher from the Deep South who does the Lord's will by murdering women he finds promiscuous. When Harry ends up sharing a cell with a condemned man (Peter Graves) who's stolen and hidden a considerable sum of money, he hatches a plan to marry his widow (Shelley Winters) and take the money for himself. But his stepson John Harper (Billy Chapin) cottons on to him, and flees with his sister and the money.

Night of the Hunter feels more like two ok films instead of one great one. The second half focuses more on John than Harry, and feels more like a children's drama than a thriller. The movie has a clear angel/devil dichotomy, with Harry as the murderous parental figure contrasted with Miss Cooper (Lillian Gish), the stern but good-natured Christian woman who adopts the Harper orphans.

The strongest link between the two halves (more so than the plot) is the portrayal of Christianity. The first half not only focuses on the psychotic Harry, but also shows him corrupting Mrs Palmer, turning her into a bible-thumping zealot who fails to protect her children. Christianity is represented by Miss Cooper in the second half, showing it in its more idealistic form. Whereas Harry teaches that we are all sinners and must be punished, Miss Cooper teaches about Exodus and overcoming adversity. Both figures have a profound impact on John – at first he's frightened off by Christianity in the form of Harry, but eventually embraces it in the form of Miss Cooper.

The acting is on the whole very good. Mitchum has a ball playing the insincere preacher, and I felt it was a bit of a shame that we saw less of him in the film's second half. Gish gives Miss Cooper a good mix of authority and compassion. Chapin does a decent job as John, portraying a stubborn child without veering into sentimentality. One interesting character who I felt should have been expanded more was Icey Spoon, a shameless gossip who sings Harry's praises at the start, only to lead the mob when he's convicted of murder. I felt the movie could have better explored the hypocrisy and bigotry that can bring out the worst in people's religion, to parallel with Harry's own bigotry.

Harry's motivation is one of the film's weaker points. It opens strongly with Harry targeting women for the way their promiscuity, introducing him as a megalomaniac. This is also done very well when he admonishes Mrs Palmer for trying to get in bed with him on their wedding night, showing he's a predator of women, but not the type we usually think of. However, Harry's greed is his main drive for the rest of the film – if not for that, he wouldn't have an excuse to pursue the kids. I felt this was a much weaker motivation and cancelled out Harry's earlier characterisation. Harry's puritan crusade at him start made him seem like a more powerful threat, especially as it speaks to centuries of religious violence which is still around today. By the end of the film, this has been replaced by his greed, which makes him seem less of a monster and more of a pathetic sleazebag.

As I said before, the film changes so drastically in the middle that it feels like two shorter films. The Christian motif transcends the two halves well, but the tone and characterisation suffers. Night of the Hunter is worth seeing for its handling of the theme of faith, and the performances also make it worthwhile. But the film doesn't tie together as well as it should, and for that it's merely good but not great.

Film Review - Song of the Sea

Song of the Sea is the latest offering from Cartoon Saloon, the makers of The Secret of Kells. It tells the story of Ben (David Rawle) whose sister Saoirse begins acting strangely after she comes across an old shell. When the two are sent to live with their strict grandmother (Fionnuala Flanagan), Ben learns that his sister is in fact half-selkie (part-human, part-seal) and is needed to stop all the fairies of the world from being turned to stone.

 

The most striking thing about this film is of course the animation, which is simplistic and yet gives the story a wonderfully surreal touch. This especially comes into its own when we meet the supernatural characters such as the long-haired Seanchaí, the fairies and Macha, the film's villain. Although the flat Medieval look can be a little off-putting, especially whenever there's a landscape shot, the animation can still run wild when the story needs it to and gives the film a distinct charm that you wouldn't get from a 3D-animation.

 

The film boasts a vivid cast of characters that add to this. It's not afraid to show Ben in an unpleasant light when he traumatises his 6-year-old sister with their mother's stories, but manages to show his later redemption completely organically. Saoirse also has a distinct presence as the innocent child figure – as she's mute, the animation is once again called on to convey this to us, showing the animators are just as skilled at nuance as they are at spectacle.

 

There are some familiar voices in the supporting cast. Brendan Gleeson is excellent as their solemn father, while John Kenny and Pat Shortt provide a lively contrast with their mythical roles. Despite being a fairytale, I was glad that the film didn't have a simplistic morality and instead used a villain that was motivated through misunderstanding instead of evil. While the film isn't “scary” as such, the recurring concept of losing your emotions is a genuinely disturbing one, and is made more so through the metaphor of being turned to stone.

 

Finally as an Irish citizen, I was delighted to see the film incorporate some Irish into its soundtrack, especially through its haunting selkie leitmotif. Bruno Coulais and Kíla (who often perform through Irish) give the film a beautiful soundtrack that blends perfectly with its animation and performances.

 

Song of the Sea is, in short, a wonderful film for all ages.

Book Review - Inversions (Iain M Banks)

In Inversions, Iain M Banks explores the ambiguity of history through two parallel storylines taking place on a distant planet. The mysterious Dr Vosill tends to a king's health while struggling against the prejudice of his court. On the other side of the world, a bodyguard named DeWar also tries to keep his master safe from assassins and traitors.

The most fascinating thing about this story is its exploration of form. Like A Song of Stone, Banks tells a story through an unreliable narrator, causing the reader to question what they're being presented with. The narrator here is Vosill's assistant, Oelph, who's been sent to spy on her and becomes infatuated with her. His duplicitousness, his feelings for Vosill and his classism all compromise Oelph's account. One question that kept occurring to me was “Why would Oelph divulge his attraction to Vosill to his master?” Another confusing aspect of this narrative is that Oelph alternates between the second and third person when referring to his master, which makes the account seem contradictory and at times nonsensical.

While this at first came across as bad writing, I soon came to appreciate that that was what Banks was trying to convey: the narrative is being written by a person, not a dettached omniscient being. Therefore it's riddled with faults, as real historiographies often are. Oelph's prejudice and hypocrisies are so stark and make him seem so unpleasant at times, that it felt like Banks was actively trying to discourage the reader from taking Oelph at his word and instead try to imagine alternative scenarios. What makes this part of the novel feel so vivid is that its flaws and ambiguities reflect real human nature. This part of the novel thus feels almost alive and not static like a more conventional novel.

As well as Oelph, Vosill is also an intriguing character. Because we only see her through Oelph's eyes, it's left up to the reader to imagine her motivations and background. She gives Oelph a vague account of her life, and the story all but tells us who or what she really is by the end, but the reader is still ultimately left in the dark. Despite this vagueness, Banks still gives us a good estimate of her character, showing her to be more compassionate, perceptive and ultimately devious than those around her. Through Vosill, Banks shows that there can be an alternative to the violent, bigoted society on display here. I felt this was certainly needed given how intense the novel becomes.

Curiously, DeWar's segment is written in a conventional style. We have a third-person structure, no hints of the supernatural and DeWar himself is surprisingly transparent given the duplicitousness of everyone around him. It's probably for this reason that I didn't find this part of the book as gripping. DeWar spends a lot of time bonding with his Lord Protector's son and with Perrund, one of his harem. I found these parts of the novel a bit too sentimental for my liking. DeWar also spends a lot of time telling fables of two cousins, which suggests a link between the two narratives. However, I felt these segments dragged on for too long and that we really only needed one of them, whereas Banks has three.

This plotline does however end with an interesting twist which ties in with the theme of deceit. Characters' motivations are revealed and our perceptions of them are shown to have been wildly innaccurate, which corresponds well with the novel's ambiguity; the history (or backstory) we've been led to believe up until this point is shown to be false. The novel thus ends on a suitably unclear note and I was left wondering not only how certain characters ended up, but even if there were more skeletons in closets that had not been revealed. Banks however keeps his mouth shut on this issue, and I feel the novel was much stronger for it.

Film Review - Jurassic World

I never expected another Jurassic Park movie to get made, seeing as how it's been over a decade since the last one. Honestly, I was happy to let the series rest in peace when I heard that the next movie could contain gun-toting velociraptors. Despite this, I still had no reservations about seeing the movie when it came out. I regretted not seeing the original for its re-release and I wanted to see at least one Jurassic Park movie on the big screen in my lifetime.

What I finally saw was something that, while different in some ways from its predecessors, was ultimately very similar; it's a fun movie and in some ways even an interesting one, but it's still hampered by lapses of logic that I felt almost insulted to be asked to accept. Business as usual, then. I will never say that this movie (or any movie) requires you to “turn your brain off” to enjoy it, because why pay to put yourself in a coma? There are interesting things here beyond the dinosaur action, and even if you find nothing good to say about it, at least it will make you appreciate better movies.

Jurassic World takes place twenty years after the first incident on Isla Nublar, where John Hammond's dream has become a global reality (the movie takes place in a divergent continuity where “Site B” doesn't exist). The general public have, however, become bored with dinosaurs and the park is forced to come up with new, exciting attractions. (Judging from the size of the crowds, I'd say the park is doing just fine, but hey, those InGen executives have to eat as well). The park has started creating new dinosaurs, including an Indominus rex which they hope will scare both kids and parents alike. Unsurprisingly, the super-duper smart predator escapes its enclosure and goes on a rampage through the park. Now Claire Dearing (Bryce Dallas Howard), a senior member of staff, and an animal trainer named Owen Grady (Chris Pratt) have to track the creature down.

I'd say the best thing about this movie were the performances. Pratt and Howard made for an engaging lead duo and I liked watching their opposing personalities clash. I wasn't sold on the romance though, as I felt it was forced and not needed. The two worked fine when they were just playing off each other on how the park should be run, or how the Indominus should be tracked. I thought the two boys were a bit annoying at the start, as at this stage they were just cliches: the moody teenager and the wide-eyed youngster. I did like watching them try to survive the forest, though. Ultimately, they were alright. Aside from the two leads, Vincent D'Onofrio was a highlight as Hoskins, the opportunistic security chief. It was nothing we hadn't seen before, but he was still fun to watch in a hammy Nedry-ish sort of way.

While the performances were great overall, the characterisation was quite a letdown. Most of the character arcs felt unoriginal or else were recycled from the past films: a divorce backstory; an adult who can't relate to kids; a villain who wants to exploit the dinosaurs and suffers a grisly fate. I was disappointed that after over ten years of development, the movie would still trot out the same storylines and expect us to be satisfied.

One thing that did feel fresh though was Owen training the velociraptors. This was something I loved watching as it felt new and expanded on the first movie without feeling like a gimmick. We've known from the start that the raptors have been intelligent and here we see they're even intelligent enough to be trained and form relationships with the humans. The fact they even gave them names made them seem more like characters in their own right instead of monsters. I found this a much better attempt to humanise the raptors than Jurassic Park III.

That's not to say it was perfect though. The twist where the raptors join the Indominus was a huge misstep in my opinion. It just didn't make sense. I know they're both are intelligent, but since when do predators form alliances, especially when they're of different species? To me, it felt like the movie was afraid to go too long without the raptors trying to kill people. This was a shame because I felt this went against the movie's attempts to give the raptors more depth, and instead fell back on the old stereotype of them as cold-blooded killers.

In a similar vein was the scene where the pterosaurs attack the tourists. It was a well-shot scene and I was glad to see the movie take advantage of its huge cast, but it still made no sense. Unlike the Indominus, which was meant to be psychotic, I can't see the reason why these relatively small creatures would attack prey that was much bigger than them. At least in JPIII, the Pteranodon were big enough to take on people and were trying to feed their young. This movie doesn't give any explanation for the pterosaurs to attack a crowd of people other than to have an action scene.

Back to the raptors, things get even more confusing when they turn against the Indominus in the climax, again with little to no reasoning. If they were willing to fight to protect Owen, why did they betray him in the first place? And as for the T-Rex ... I'm sorry, but that “meaningful look” between Blue and the T-rex just felt like fanwank to me. Once again, predators don't form alliances. The previous attempts to humanise the raptors worked because they felt organic; this was the scriptwriters getting too enthusiastic playing with their action figures.

The Indominus was ok but nothing revolutionary. It was everything you'd expect from a huge predatory dinosaur, but in the best possible way. The tension and action was well-executed whenever it was onscreen. I liked how they gave it a personality as the Indominus tries to figure out its place in the world, bringing up the damaging effect captivity can have on animals.

This leads me to the Frankenstein theme where, once again, the movie lectures on humanity's arrogance when it comes to nature. I liked that it tied back with Michael Crichton's novel, where the dinosaurs' DNA was also tampered with to make them more sensational. They even brought back Dr Wu (B.D. Wong), except here he's defending the practice instead of criticising it. To see a neutral supporting character from the first movie go all mad scientist was ... interesting. I admit, his confrontation with the park's owner, Simon Masrani (Irrfan Khan) works because of Wu's connection with the first film. I can see Dr Wu developing a god complex when he's been playing God for twenty years. The scene just wouldn't have had the same potency if it was some completely new character. That said, this is still a stark contrast with Wu's character from the first film, and I feel like a little explanation from the script would have made that bit more believable. I certainly would want to know why Wu thought it was a good idea to create a giant super-raptor when he already knows what normal raptors are capable of.

And Wu's not the only person who's weirdly written here. Masrani is probably the worst-served by this script's characterisation. He's a walking contradiction. He gives his scientists free reign to create frightening new attractions, then acts horrified by what inevitably happens. He claims the park is meant to remind us of how small we really are, even though using genetic technology for the sake of the theme park says the exact opposite. He's a weird blend of the book and film versions of John Hammond. We're meant to see him as a kind philanthropist, but he's also happy to tinker with creation to boost sales.

This ultimately hurts the film's message about humanity's arrogance, because the very person who claims to abbhor those practices embodies them at the same time. A story can't seriously convey a message when its characters keep contradicting themselves. Like with the raptors, I give the film props for ambition, but the attempt still comes across as clumsy.

So that's Jurassic World for you. I wasn't expecting the movie to be perfect (none of them are), but this series means so much to me that there was no way I could not go see it, which I'm sure is the case for many people. For action and themes, it's a mixed bag. The performances are pretty strong though. See it if you're a completist, but otherwise you aren't missing that much.

Book Review - Doctor Who: The Left-Handed Hummingbird (Kate Orman)

The Left-Handed Hummingbird is part of a line of Doctor Who books that were released from 1991 to 1997. The Virgin New Adventures (named after the company that published them) were an unofficial continuation of the show, which had been cancelled in 1989. They're famous for being darker, more violent and more brooding than the classic series, and this installment is a prime example of that.

The plot follows the Seventh Doctor, Ace and Bernice Summerfield (a companion invented for the books) as they try to stop the malevolent Aztec god, Huitzilin (Weet-zill-in). In reality, Huitzilin is an early Aztec warrior who was corrupted by malfunctioning alien technology, making him more powerful and more sadistic, feeding off violence and anger. The Doctor and his friends follow Huitzilin from the Aztec Empire, to London in the 60s, and to the Titanic, to stop him before he takes over the Doctor's body.

I bought this book as Kate Orman is praised very highly in fan circles, and I wanted to see her work for myself. This book is often hailed as revolutionary in its portrayal of the Doctor and his companions, and I suppose it is. The NAs were known for being more introspective than the classic show, and often questioned the Doctor and his actions in a way that hadn't really been done before. However, this introspectiveness is so prominent in Doctor Who nowadays that it's easy to take for granted. The Doctor is always questioning his role in the universe, while his companions question his role in their lives, and whether travelling with the Doctor is healthy for them. The story arc of Series 8 is entirely built around this.

As someone who started with the new series before reading thse books, this book didn't shock or amaze me as I was expecting it to. That's not through any failing of the author, it's just that I've seen Doctor Who do this so many times before. At the very least, it's interesting to read and see how the DNA of the new series was seeded through these books a whole decade before it was released.

The plot and characterisation is very solid here. I love time-hopping stories like this because they provide a much bigger sense of scale and history. By showing how old a being Huitzilin is, and how he can appear in any environment, it parallels the theme of violence which recurs again and again in history. The various worlds were well-realised; Orman gives enough detail to bring them to life, but not too much that it bogs down the story.

Huitzilin himself isn't a complex villain (he's just another power-hungry sociopath) but this does free up the protagonists, who are given more depth. The Doctor spends a lot of time doubting himself, but again, Orman doesn't go overboard, so it doesn't feel preachy. Given the Seventh Doctor's godlike status in some of these stories, it's good to bring him down to Earth, so to speak, and show his more vulnerable side. There's a nice moment between him and Ace where he stops her from shooting a man who's attacking them. We see both sides of this argument, and the reader is left to make up their own minds about this. Ace is also well-realised here, and even though she's much angrier and more violent than her TV counterpart, her disillusionment with the world harkens back to the classic show's final seasons, and so it feels like a natural progression of the character. I've heard from sites like The Doctor Who Ratings Guide that Ace becomes more unlikeable as the books progress, but here, I thought she was portrayed very well.

Professor Summerfield is the brains to Ace's brawn. There's a slight feeling of dread as the tension between them mounts, as part of the ongoing arc between them. Between Ace's and the Doctor's angst, Bernice is the most grounded of the trio, providing a level head, especially towards the book's end where Ace is briefly possessed by Huitzilin, and the Doctor gets stabbed. Bernice's tempering effect is vital to the story, as it stops it from being dragged down by its own naval-gazing.

The incidental characters are fine, but nothing too memorable. Cristián Alvarez is the designated bystander who's dragged along for the ride as the time travellers keep appearing randomly throughout his life. There's also a Lieutenant Macbeth of UNIT, who doesn't know much of this mysterious Doctor but will go to any means to find out. I was disappointed that Macbeth didn't have a bigger role here, as I loved the way Orman tied back to the Barry Letts era, while expanding on it. Like Ace, the portrayal is markedly different from the show (UNIT is more sinister here, instead of the cozy ensemble it was in 70s), but still feels like a continuation and not a betrayal of what's come before.

One last connection with the new series is the story arc. As we've come to expect from the new series, a shady villain is working in the shadows to tamper with the Doctor's timestream, which is what causes the series of events in the story. Thankfully, it's not intrusive and the book can still be enjoyed as a standalone adventure. The framing device is so underused here, that it seems as if Orman originally wrote this to be its own story, and the editors made her add a few nods and winks just to tie it together with the other books.

If you're looking for an introduction to the New Adventure line, The Left-Handed Hummingbird is a good book to start with. Whether you're a longtime fan or a newbie, it's very much Doctor Who.