Dark Knight is the first movie I’ve seen in about 10 years where no one’s cellphone went off during the movie. In a theatre of nearly 350 people, the dull din of conversation through the previews was constant, but when the opening credits started to roll, the crowd was eerily hushed. The hype, the money, the postmortem lookie-loos are really irrelevant to the film and it’s quality. Dark Knight has very few flaws for the nitpickers, and follows Batman Begin’s tradition of industrial fantasy and dark horse heroes. Dark Knight is a landmark in what is fast becoming a cinema trend of the new millennium, one that specifically caters to web-savvy Gen-Xers.

In Dark Knight, Bruce Wayne (Bale) laments his ex-girl Rachel’s (Gyllenhaal) relationship with the new DA, Harvey Dent (Eckhart). Dent cuts broadly into organized crime, enraging the bosses who are left. New villain Joker (Ledger) advises the mob that the real problem is Batman: the caped crusader emboldens the law while making even the most seasoned criminal think twice about going out at night. Joker proposes to eliminate the Batman, and becomes obsessed with revealing his true identity. His maniacal plans rattle every level of Gotham government as Joker gets closer and closer to unmasking Batman. Bruce Wayne continues his tango with vigilante justice, hoping Dent will take over the role of city protector, but is ultimately unable to (or forced to) don the cloak and shuriken once again.

Oscar buzz is already underway for Heath Ledger’s posthumous performance as the Joker, but he’s not the only star of Dark Knight. In fact, Christian Bale’s Batman might have the weakest performance in the movie, as events force his hand, move around him, but his loved ones face the worst danger and have the opportunity to be more dynamic. Gyllenhaal’s earthy Rachel is a welcome update from Katie “scheduling conflict” Holmes’. Michael Caine is eternally Michael Caine. Morgan Freeman plays a more active role this time around, stepping outside of James-Bondian Outfitter status to assist Bruce Wayne with right-hand-matters.

Rating:

Starring: Christian Bale, Heath Ledger, Aaron Eckhart, Maggie Gyllenhaal

Directed by: Christopher Nolan

Written by: Jonathan and Christopher Nolan

Ledger’s performance is a must-see. He’s quippy and a self-professed “agent of chaos”. It’s easy to laugh when he deals wit, even at the most inappropriate times. Joker has at least two different stories for how he got his scars, and each story is equally convincing. His plans are devious, and usually end with his minions betraying each other for a larger share of the pot. He’s deeply disturbed: mutilating or torturing for kicks, tongue darting like a lizard’s, turning friends against friends in perverted games of paradox. The most chilling scenes are the Joker’s video manifestos: off-kilter, too close up, and full of annoying-yet-creepy microphone clicks. One of Joker’s stunts made everyone in the audience leap with shock, another made them squirm for two minutes before the situation resolved. Joker’s a true character, and it’s very hard to believe that’s Heath Ledger beneath the cracking makeup and stringy hair.

Most surprising is Eckhart’s performance as Harvey Dent. Dent’s downfall is foreshadowed lightly and chronicled carefully. We want to trust Harvey Dent for his good-natured attitude and boyish good looks, but simultaneously distrust any brand-name politician or lawyer. He’s set up to be Batman’s legal alternative and a possible means for Bruce Wayne’s retirement, but this is ultimately not meant to be. The two become very close, and then shatter apart in an instant. Scarier than a psychotic clownster in makeup, Dent is the everyman gone wrong.

With all of these characters, it shouldn’t surprise you that Dark Knight is 2.5 hours long. The story progresses nicely through most of this time, up to the end, where you realize your butt is sore and the film starts playing fast and loose with the moral message. Stances are changed, villains are dispatched, and resolutions are offered, but they’re decidedly fluffy ones. Thankfully, they’re the kind of slightly-inelegant fluffy that wraps up a long film and sets up a sequel.

Artistically, the movie doesn’t miss a beat in picking up the tone and style from Batman Begins. There’s a certain dark-tech aesthetic blended with martial arts that was popularized by The Matrix and continues to permeate the action genre. More than style, the themes are hyper-relevant: cynicism and love of the underdog. Baby Boomers may claim influence over their offspring, and certainly the disillusionment with a government’s effectiveness is a common complaint among this age group and their children alike. But there’s a certain love of the underdog, paired with angst and acidic sarcasm, that is found only in the now 30-somethings, contemporaries of most of Dark Knight’s cast. These underdogs are championed from reality TV to elections, and Batman is certainly their hero.

It’s no wonder that the film is breaking records and resonating with fans of all ages. Beyond the kick-ass action and stainless steel style, Dark Knight plays on issues of the age. Believe the hype: this is an excellent companion to Batman Begins, and sets up the franchise for another stellar movie, if and when Joker’s enormous shoes are filled.

The Twelve Kingdoms is rather unique - while most anime is based on Japanese comics or graphic novels, the Twelve Kingdoms anime series was based on full-fledged fantasy novels. The Twelve Kingdoms are considered “light novels,” more akin to our own Young Adult genre, and feature Japanese teenagers spirited away to a parallel world resembling a mythical and ancient China. Fuyumi Ono wrote seven Twelve Kingdoms novels between 1991 and 2001; the anime series started in 2002, but the English, French and German translations of the novels were not available for fans until 2006.

These books were long-anticipated, as the fan community in 2002 buzzed that the novels contained far more story than the 45-episode series covered. In 2003, I created one of the first comprehensive English fansites for the series, painstakingly creating maps, glossaries and detailed episode synopsies for Ono’s mythologically rich and highly political world of 12 kingdoms. Even though it’s been literally years since I had heavy involvement in the series, the books were highly anticipated and welcomed with kingly regard into my collection, much like a long-lost best friend (or perhaps a taika?). Now that the welcoming ceremony is over, does the anime series do them justice? Are these translations a good read?

Yes and mostly yes.

Sea of Shadow - book 1/7 from the Twelve Kingdoms series

The first novel, Sea of Shadow, is all about Yoko’s strange journey to the world of twelve kingdoms. She’s taken from her classroom by Keiki, a strange man commanding demons, who promises to protect her against a different hoard of demons that pursues her. But when the reluctant Yoko arrives in the new world, she finds herself alone. The story is all about the emotional and physical struggles of an average high-school-student plopped into a completely foreign agricultural society. Yoko is constantly attacked by demons and is betrayed by everyone she meets.

There’s a reason for this, but Yoko is completely ignorant of society’s rules and ills, and is unable to make heads or tails of her situation. She’s literally wandering in the wilderness with only a sword, her angst and self-loathing for around 300 pages. Eventually, Yoko meets a person she can trust. Her strange story begins to take shape and her friends interpret the hidden and auspicious meaning of her arrival.

Sea of Wind follows the story of Taiki, born in Japan but destined to be a kirin in the land of the 12 kingdoms. The kirin are a sort of unicorn shapeshifter that are responsible for choosing and guiding kings. Taiki lives in Japan for 10 years before he’s found and returned to his duties on Hourai, the mountain home of kirin, immortal sages and kings. But Taiki’s long absence means his magical powers have not manifested and he has no knowledge of the new world. How can an ignorant and powerless kirin choose the next king of Tai kingdom?

Sea of Wind - book 2/7 from the Twelve Kingdoms series

While Sea of Shadow is dark, brooding and internal, Sea of Wind is a much lighter fantasy tale. Taiki has no problem eschewing Japan for a life of luxury on Hourai. Taiki’s painful mistakes end in a way where everyone laughs and lives happily ever after.

In both novels, the theme is common and very fantasy-typical. The main character has special latent powers or nobility, and must go on a journey to find their real family or their real home. What sets the Twelve Kingdoms novels apart from complete dreck is the depth of emotional struggles, which are often quite dark and unattractive, and will be especially poignant for older teenage readers. Parents of younger readers should be aware that there are themes of violence, murder and lots of demons eating people.

The anime may be better at introducing beasts, customs and magic than the novels, where the fantasy seems more like deus ex machina than a setting. This is not quite as true for Sea of Wind, but the fantasy lays dormant through most of Sea of Shadow. Catching up to all of the new customs and terms can be a struggle for fans of the anime, and the break-neck pace of introduction is not much different in the novels.

The translations are very accessible, and Sea of Wind is a particularly well-paced, enjoyable and fast read. The hardcover books are more like paperbacks in dimension, and contain a few manga-style black and white illustrations.

The translation is also peppered with kanji definitions. I know Japanese media often subtitles itself and places a high degree of emphasis on deriving meaning through kanji, which may be obscure even to native speakers. In the novels, characters are so often drawing 24-stroke kanji “in the air” that it makes me wonder if Japanese people have developed a special talent to read these air signals, or the translator just got carried away with giving us gaijin a heaping dose of Japanese. In either event, it tends to shatter an otherwise enveloping tone.

More research online suggests that the remaining novels can well cover the remaining anime episodes, and perhaps go a little bit further than the anime does, especially if Yuka and Asano’s subplots are erased (and they are in the first two novels).

The books are a great read for fans of any young adult fantasy, especially if you’re looking for some foreign flair. You don’t have to be an anime fan to appreciate or keep up with them, since the anime duplicates them so closely. Fans of the anime may want to wait awhile before reading the books, since doing both at the same time will probably be overkill.

When I was a little girl, a relative gave me a beautiful book filled with illustrations of unicorns and blank facing pages to write on. I wrote a story around each illustration, trying to tie all the different unicorns and locations together. When I was older, I read this story to some girls I babysat. “What crap writing,” I thought, and even apologized for the higgeldy-piggelty plot that jumped from continent to continent with relatively little purpose. The girls not only dismissed my apology, but told me that they loved the story, and urged me to keep reading.

The Fall has a rather similar concept and result. Director Tarsem (of The Cell fame) lends his lush music video aesthetics to feature-length film in a project that’s been shelved since 2006 and finally distributed in part by he efforts of David Fincher & Spike Jonze. The Fall is a sort of dark fantasy. In a 1930’s Los Angeles hospital, a paralyzed and mortally depressed actor, Roy (Lee Pace), recounts an epic story of revenge to fellow patient Alexandria (Catinca Untaru), a little girl from an impoverished immigrant family.

As the visually sumptuous story unfurls across nations and Roy sinks deeper into drug abuse, the tale becomes entwined with reality. Characters in the story are pulled from Alexandria’s experiences. She’s more familiar with India than Native Americans, so when Roy mentions an Indian, she envisons the character as a man from India. A note Alexandria writes and carefully cuts into snowflake shape makes its way into maps and letters in the story. Little details from either world are passed silently to the other. It’s an entertaining exercise for the audience to spot them all and make sense of the ones they might have missed.

Rating:

Staring: Catinca Untaru, Lee Pace

Directed by: Tarsem

Written by: Dan Gilroy, Nico Soultanakis, Tarsem. Based on “Yo Ho Ho,” a 1981 Bulgarian screenplay by Valeri Petrov.

The film’s major draw is the artistic appeal. The Fall was shot on location in 18 countries and several very distinctive landmarks. The color palette used for the film is hyper-saturated with deep contrasts. Even in the hospital, every shot is a sight to behold. There are a few remarkable and hard-to-miss graphic matches between scenes, like when an evil priest’s face dissolves into a bone-white desert.

Though there are strong themes of drug abuse and suicide, the story Roy tells Alexandria is not twisted, and is more approachable than the uncomfortable and disturbing story of The Cell. The Fall is rather unique in its treatment of relationships and storytelling. Roy and Alexandria are fast friends, but their conversations are very natural and frequently a little awkward. The story lacks any real direction or purpose up to the point where Roy and Alexandria paint their avatars into it. At this point, it becomes a metaphor for their own lives and relationships, and the ideology wobbles between the hopeless nihilism and youthful optimism of the story tellers.

Because of this, the movie may feel a little slow to start, or even be purposefully meandering. The story is told in the same way that most people tell stories: imperfect, nonsensical, and riddled with bad lines. Pace is perfectly convincing as an addict on the brink, but not at all convincing as the dashing hero of the revenge story. The editing makes it difficult to follow who’s who and what people are saying behind closed doors - important conversations just out of Alexandria’s earshot. These style choices are clever, but the sur/realist approach often obscures itself.

The Fall is like a box of fine dark chocolate that you accidentally left in your car on a hot afternoon: messy, slightly ruined, but not enough that you won’t eat and enjoy it. Though the story falls short of charming, Alexandria’s unique and mischievous personality, the subtle symbolism, and the epic’s breathtaking composition might be enough to warrant a salvaged feast.

Everyone panned the Matrix sequels and groaned at Speed Racer, but it’s not that bad. At the very least, there’s value in seeing the eye-popping art direction, even if the flimsy story doesn’t grip you. With V for Vendetta, the Animatrix, and the collective experience of John Goodman, Christina Ricci and Susan Sarandon behind their latest project, surely the Wachowski brothers have managed to redeem themselves a little bit.

Speed Racer is a live-action remake of a 1960s anime classic. The story’s for kids and is very straightforward: Speed Racer (Emile Hirsch) races cars. Trixie (Christina Ricci) is his girlfriend. Speed Racer is a true innocent - all he wants to do is race, and his nobility of spirit is constantly tested by rival racers. Speed Racer loves his family: Mom Racer (Susan Sarandon), Pops Racer (John Goodman), little brother Spritle (Paulie Litt) and Spritle’s pet chimp, Chim-Chim. The movie adaptation does add a little bit of depth; Speed Racer is courted by megacorp Royalton Industries, but wonders if leaving his family’s own racing team would be beneficial in the long run. Speed is haunted by the poor decisions his older brother Rex Racer (Scott Porter) made, which ultimately cost Rex his life on the track. Speed discovers the ugly corporate underbelly of racing and overcomes obstacles in both the physical and moral world.

Characters aren’t always straightforward at first, but the ideology of the movie is so cut-and-print that adult moviegoers will see the entire plot unfold before them in about fifteen minutes (or less, if you read this review beforehand). With a campy adaptation of a cash-cow children’s anime series, I’m not sure how anyone can expect a story of Shakespearean proportions. Those expectations are as unrealistic as the main character’s name.

Rating:

Staring: Emile Hirsch, Christina Ricci

Written and Directed by: Andy and Larry Wachowski

The most stunning aspect of Speed Racer is the art. Every frame of the movie looks like it could be a movie poster. Every detail is meticulously placed. Speed Racer’s distinctive style may even be ahead of its time; I can see this movie inspiring animation movies for years to come.

The visuals are reminiscent of circa-1985 racing games: Not the realistic ones, but the garish neon games that had you race across tracks that were better suited to roller-coasters. There are even a few effects that are borrowed from modern racing games, like Speed’s car following the “ghost car” of his deceased brother Rex, comparing not only their times but how they both ran the course, as racers can do in simulation games like Gran Turismo or Forza Motor Sport. There are light streamers from the taillights of cars. In one tunnel, zebras are printed in alternating black and white strips, made to look like flip book animation when the drivers speed past. All of the colors are straight out of a gumball machine. The stationary scenes look layered, like the cel-shaded animation that inspired the movie. The transition between CGI and live-action is so frequent, so seamless that we can rely only on our viewer knowledge to tell us which is which.

But this visual feast is so sumptuous that it’s almost too much. The eye-candy certainly overpowers everything else in the movie, which isn’t hard to do with the story, but is a shame for the great actors and their characters. Some of the visual techniques are overused and repetitive. I’d like to take the editor out to a nice dinner, back them up against the wall in an alley, and beat them soundly with a sock full of creamed corn for the overuse of intercutting with transitional effects. I will die a happy woman if I never see another movie where two scenes are linked by panning across them with the profile of a talking head filling the visual space between the two.

When not inciting these violent thoughts (which admittedly, is not hard to do with this reviewer), Speed Racer promised and delivered entertainment and even a few laughs. The combination of chimp and child looks like it would be a recipe for comedic cliché and disaster, but they were actually pretty cute. Spritle’s one-liners were clever, and his delivery is so earnest that even when the comedic device is a little overused, we can’t help but like the mischievous duo. There are other great child actors in the film - young Speed (Nicholas Elia) and young Trixie (Ariel Winter) have a few schoolyard romance scenes that are so adorable they nearly brought me to tears.

As an adult Trixie, Christina Ricci is simply charming. It’s great to see John Goodman again, perfectly cast as a heart-of-gold yet grumbly dad. Susan Sarandon is pivotal to the film’s moral center as Mom and mediator. Racer X is masked and so familiar you’ll be asking yourself “Is that Jack from LOST?” the whole movie - yes, it’s Matthew Fox in his second movie role since LOST (his first was 2008’s Vantage Point).

See this movie for the visuals and the love of Speed Racer first, and be surprised by the fun and great cast. There’s plenty to enjoy for kids, and even adults can appreciate the sunny attitude of the film. The story may be two-dimensional, but it is completely within the spirit of the original.

Originally posted to http://pixielate.com/booksmovies

Kay Kenyon’s first book in the Entire and the Rose series has something of an identity crisis. No one seems to know how to market this: sci-fi or fantasy? Bright of the Sky neatly strides both worlds - literally - to create a universe rich with culture, sympathetic characters that are truly flawed, and a plot that mimics reality more than the paradigms we’re used to. Fans of fantasy world building will be thrilled with the new series.

Bright of the Sky follows Titus Quinn as he journeys from our universe (the Rose) to another - that of the Entire, “graciously” created and ruled by the powerful and oppressive Tarig alien race. Quinn reached the Entire by mistake two years ago and came back with precious few memories of his time there; little enough that everyone felt he’d just gone mad at the loss of his young daughter and wife in the spacing accident. When scientists discovered truth to Quinn’s parallel universe claim, they sent him back, hoping he could regain his knowledge of the place. Quinn hopes to discover the whereabouts of his wife and daughter. But he also has the directive from his company to gain knowledge of how to travel freely between the realms, a quest made necessary by blackmailing Quinn. He also discovers that he gained notoriety in his first trip to the Entire, a place where those of “the Rose” are instantly recognized as intruders and unwelcome. Titus Quinn must overcome his torrid past in the Entire and pass by unnoticed, balancing his personal and professional goals to return to the Rose.

Book 1 of “The Entire and the Rose” series

“Marcus Sund came awake all at once. “Lights,” he said.
The cabin remained dark. “Lights,” he repeated, louder this time, but with the same result. He sat up. The station hummed with life support - the ProFabber engines churned in their collosal duties - but something was missing from that profound vibration.

The most intriguing part of this book is the culture and world building involved in the Entire, and because most of the story takes place there, this might be better classified as a fantasy book. The Entire does have knowledge of the Rose, and the Tarig race fashioned all of the other races off examples from the Rose. For example, the Chalin people loosely resemble the ancient Chinese, appearing mostly human, pursuing control of emotions in a vaguely spiritual manner, ruled by feudal lords with an important scholar class. But the Tarig rule the Entire with an iron fist, and their first commandment is to withhold knowledge of the Entire from the Rose. So while the cultures in the Entire take cue from the Rose, deeper knowledge and conversation remains off-limits. How the Tarig created the universe remains a mystery through the first book. How the Tarig maintain control is made very clear: they’re credited with the immortal life that all in the Entire enjoy, their intelligence is nearly omniscient, and they punish all lawbreakers with swift death.

Because of this social structure, most of the action in this book takes place through politics and intrigue. If you want fantastic space battles or duels, you will have to look elsewhere (at least for few hundred pages). The pace is very strong through the first few chapters of the book and settles into a rolling quest once Quinn reaches the Entire. Quinn’s journey does not always go as you expect it. Dangers that are foreshadowed never come to pass. Misadventures and inconveniences pop up and make perfect sense, but can occur unexpectedly.

The characters are multi-dimensional in a way that goes beyond what most authors attempt. Quinn is flawed deeply, not superficially. He starts off the book a violent hermit, shunned by the world who initially rejected his story of the Entire. His notoriety in the Entire is not just the product of xenophobia - he’s done some awful things, and continues to do so, though we understand his motives and can sympathize with him, even if empathy is difficult. Those who support and oppose Quinn have their own clear objectives and secrets. Even the Tarig are not just bad guys; their self-created reputation for grace is not complete rubbish.

Initially the fantasy world is a little difficult to believe, with sentient races popping up as convenient and other devices revealed in a very linear plot, parallel to the motion of the adventure. But the book probably falls shortest in the descriptions of the Rose and our own future universe. Corporations rule the world and their money is made from space travel. Standardized testing separates savants from the average. The average live off company welfare, occupying themselves with meaningless jobs or entertainment media. Most of the characters in the Rose we encounter are “savvies” and are in the upper echelons of the ruling corporations. But these high-intelligence characters are petty, capricious, and pathetic. Their lives are run like soap operas and their social graces don’t exist. Some might argue with me that this is a good representation of those who have high IQs, and certainly we’ve all met the uber-smart who are more in touch with their intellectual pursuits than emotional development. But I feel that making one universe so completely dark breaks our immersion and makes the single shade difficult to accept, especially in contrast to the dynamic Entire.

Bright of the Sky is a cliffhanger, but is not unsatisfying. Some of the major issues are resolved or morphed into new issues, and nearly all of the important questions are answered, leaving us with more questions. This is a deep and addicting way to introduce us to an intricate world and an exciting new series.

Originally posted to http://pixielate.com/games

Okami remains one of the most beautiful gaming experiences I’ve ever had. When I originally played this on the PS2, I wrote a gushing review. I never finished the game due to outside distractions and the promise of a Wii version. Since the game is built on brushwork, it seems like a natural fit, and almost a sin to play it on my tiny TV with analog sticks. Now that I have a big shiny TV and a Wii, I’m playing Okami as it was meant to be played.

The game hasn’t changed much. You still run around mythical Japan as the wolf (in Japanese, “Ōkami”) incarnation of Amaterasu, the Shinto goddess of the sun. Ammy must restore the natural beauty of the land by feeding animals, helping trees bloom, and performing chores for villagers. The game is very puzzle-based with a smattering of combat. The calligraphy-style cel shading of the game is stunning. The concept itself is a joy. You will have a hard time putting the brush down and going to bed. “Just one more cherry tree!”

Rating:

Play Time: ~40 hours

Replay Value: low

Favorite Weapon: Rosary beads

The Wii version offers new controls but changes little else about the game. It’s not harder or easier to control your brushwork, just different. It’s much easier to draw vines and straight lines than it was before. Holding down Z on your nunchuck and pressing A on the main controller forces a straight line to be drawn. You can change the thickness of your brushstrokes by moving the remote towards the TV. To fight, you flick the main controller in time with Ammy’s attacks. This was the most frustrating aspect of learning the new controls - you can’t just go nuts with wiggling the controller, you have to establish a slow and deliberate rhythm to perform a chain of attacks (unless you’re using the rosary weapons).

Some of the very frustrating minigames seem to have improved, and some others, like the paw print loading screen, have been taken out entirely. Other than these and possible improvements to how brushstrokes are interpreted, I can see no other changes.

Okami remains on my Top 10 list, and the Wii version improves the gameplay experience. The game is accessible to all ages and walks of life. This stunningly beautiful, ultra-positive game now has the bonus of extremely intuitive controls. If you played the first, consider renting the Wii incarnation. If you never played the first, this game is a MUST for your permanent collection.

Originally posted to http://pixielate.com/booksmovies

If you’re not a 13 year-old boy, Forbidden Kingdom was not really made for you. I understand the appeal of Jet Li and Jackie Chan, together at last, and everyone’s hopes for a harmonious combination like peanut butter and chocolate. I shared this hope, but was served something more like canned cheese with crackers. It’s not that this combination is bad, just that their pairing is framed within a feeble, pointlessly enthusiastic action film.

Forbidden Kingdom follows the story of Jason (Michael Angarano), a die-hard kungfu fan and his concussion-induced journey back in time to a mythical China. Jason must return a golden staff to the Monkey King (Jet Li), who is imprisoned in stone under the evil gaze of the immortal Jade Warlord (Deshun Wang). Jason meets a silent monk (Jet Li), drunken master Lu Yan (Jackie Chan), and musical assassin Golden Sparrow (Yifei Liu) who all have a vested interest in the Monkey King or the demise of the Jade Warlord. They accompany Jason on his quest and give him the skills he needs to repel his foes.

The characters are interesting but completely shallow. We’re introduced to them as stock. There’s an assumed level of familiarity with martial arts movies, which they’re directly inspired by, but little more is given than this stereotype. Lu Yan and the Silent Monk profess death threats, engage in playful antics, and display some unknown kinship, sometimes all within the same scene. We like Golden Sparrow because she’s beautiful and she’s the same age as our protagonist. Beyond an obvious romantic setup, a briefly uttered revenge quest, and a catfight, she’s completely pointless. It’s interesting that Li and Chan both play secondary characters in this movie, and in roles that are not their traditional typecast fare. Jackie Chan is terribly sympathetic, but by his own undeniable Jackie Chan charm, not on any strength of the movie.

Rating:

Starring: Jet Li, Jackie Chan, Michael Angarano, Yifei Liu

Directed by: Rob Minkoff

Written by: John Fusco

My biggest problem with this movie lies in Jason’s story. He’s sent to mythical China with more stereotypes than skills, and through truly excessive use of montage, becomes a warrior who can help the Monkey King. I suspend disbelief for fantasy films, but the montages are as repetitive and annoying as the whiny Jason. Since we’re so interested in Jet Li and Jackie Chan, why make them secondary characters and give the focus to a coming-of-age quest? My rhetorical question is answered for you in the first sentence of the review. But I think this also skirts the issue of trying to give equal screen time and top billing to the two biggest martial arts stars of our age.

As repugnant as the writing and editing may be, Forbidden Kingdom makes up for this in a good dose of fight scenes. This has some of the best story-to-action ratios of any martial arts movie, hearkening back to the heyday of kung fu, where the story is minimized to make room for more action. Nothing wrong with that! It’s still entertaining as always to watch Chan and Li fight. There is one very long sparring sequence and while it’s nothing terribly flashy, you do get a sense that the two are very well matched. Some of the editing is sketchy, relying heavily on reaction shots rather than allowing us to see maneuvers connect. Some of the fighting is extremely theatrical and extended, in true wushu style, and beautiful to see.

The visuals have that nearly animated quality, with emphasis on glow and gold, that we’ve seen so often in fantasy movies lately. Combined with the cutout characters, it gives the impression that you’re watching more of a video game than a movie. I like video games, but this is not necessarily a boon. I’d like to see something more original, or maybe something that draws more heavily on Chinese cinema, since the movie already borrows so liberally from those films.

Forbidden Kingdom has all of the good components of a classic action film, but together, these elements work against each other in a big way. The narrative is short, but not short enough. The general tone is more like a poor comic book movie than a kung fu fantasy. This may appeal to some, but dressing up in silks doesn’t make this tired thing new again.

4 Months, 3 Weeks, 2 Days entices you with a Golden Palm from Cannes, a thriller-style trailer, and a question that the movie's summary answers for you. What are these women doing that's so dangerous? They're arranging an illegal abortion in 1980s communist Romania. 4 Months fits so firmly into a realist style that it's impossible to derive the message of the movie. If abortion is a sensitive subject for you, 4 Months will rile you regardless of where you place yourself on the socio-political spectrum. If you're able to stomach the grit, read on and consider the film.

4 Months, 3 Weeks, 2 Days

Otilia helps her college roommate and best friend Gabriela arrange an abortion. For 1987 Romania, both abortion and contraception are illegal, along with plenty of other things. The girls live a life furnished with contraband, and Otilia's able to obtain this dangerous procedure by way of her finely honed skills in manipulation. Gabriela is highly irresponsible: her bad memory, white lies, and apprehension jeopardize the whole arrangement. Otilia and Gabriela must re-negotiate with the abortionist when he discovers Gabriela's already into her second trimester.

4 Months is told from Otilia's point of view. Gabriela may be having the abortion, but the procedure is Otilia's burden to bear. We see her arrange everything in secret, dodge questions from her boyfriend and his family, and assist Gabriela with the horrific outcomes. We don't gain insight on how Gabriela and Otilia became close friends, or what happens to their friendship after this ordeal, but we know the extent of Otilia's fierce loyalty. Her actions may even be unrealistic - there are always limits to what friends will do for each other. I don't think any of the other characters can be criticized this way. The abortionist is a devilish man in the guise of a strict doctor. Gabriela is stupid and frightened but determined and strong.

The movie is squarely realistic. This will seem initially slow due to the long takes and minimal editing. The entire film looks like it's been shot with a handheld camera, but this won't make you sick, since most of the scenes involve casual dialog in homes and hotel rooms. There is a bit of excitement in the movie, when we follow Otilia in a thrilling "chase" scene, but most of the dramatic elements are brought by the content.

There's nothing glamorous or romanticized about 4 Months - the content is dramatic, but the settings is run down and desperate, the characters ruthlessly pragmatic. The soundscapes of the city are beautiful and strange at day, terrifying by night, and completely void of music. The editing and writing are superb for the style: the events are not spelled out for you, but every scene has importance to the story or characters.

The elephant in the room is the pro life/choice question. There is one clear message for the audience: illegal abortions are terrible. You can take this message in a few different ways. All abortions are horrible and should be banned. Illegal abortion is horrible, so safe and legal abortions should be made available. The characters are complex and not very sympathetic, so the value judgments are left wide open.

You would expect to see some appalling imagery, but the movie purposefully leaves these depictions out with the exception of one final scene, tightly packed with anticipation. Oh yes, it goes there, it does that, and you know I kept my eyes shut through it.

I can see why 4 Months is so widely acclaimed. It's an emotionally charged powder-keg that deserves a permanent spot on your list of heavy-hitters. It's unique in its attempt to remain neutral on the social issues. It's realistic without falling into any of the trappings of melodramas posing as realism. It's engaging, but probably not destined to be anyone's favorite movie. Is there such a thing as too real?

Originally posted to Pixielate Books & Movies

Lions and mermaids and shaman, oh my! Magic Burns is the second book in the Kate Daniels series by Ilona Andrews. Kate is a mercenary in magic-torn Atlanta, eliminating the magical anomalies that surface each time a wave of magic hits. In Magic Bites, she investigates the murder of her guardian and ruffles a few important furs and feathers in the process. In Magic Burns, we revisit Kate’s uncanny ability to attract danger from all sides as she works to investigate the disappearance of a young girl’s mother. She must work cooperatively with The People (vampires) and The Pack (shapeshifters), though this alliance is frequently strained.

Fans of the series should not be disappointed by this new installment. This reads like a separate episode - while it does help to have some prior knowledge of the universe, it may not be required for you to enjoy this second book. The romantic fans will be titillated by Magic Burns as Kate’s relationship with Curran really starts getting interesting and a rival enters the battle.

Books like this are typically not my “thing,” but I have to give the author credit for a work that I finished at a break-neck pace. Magic Burns is full of action, adventure, mystery, humor, and a touch of romance. The emphasis of Magic Burns is the action - the dark qualities aren’t quite as strong as they were in Bites, and the mystery is a little rushed. Humor in a book like this is a delicate balance - alternating between comedy and dark adventure is tricky, especially while keeping up the momentum of the plot. Overdoing the one-liners can turn a book into pure schlock or a belly-laugh. In Magic Burns there are some phrases that are a little overused (”In your dreams!”), some reactions that seem unreasonable or cartoonish. But overall, the funny bits are very well done and elevate the series from interesting to endearing. The snark suits Kate well and creates a thoroughly entertaining read.

All of your favorite characters from Magic Bites make a reappearance in Magic Burns, almost without exception. These characters are typically well integrated into the story, but some of them make cameo appearances that are not really part of the story, and a few of the characters undergo a personality shift between Bites and Burns.

The world is intriguing and well researched, integrating Celtic mythologies and new facts about shapeshifters, vampires, and the urban fantasy landscape. Magic Burns takes place during a magic flare, where the abilities of all magical creatures are enhanced: for better and worse. We also get a short, satisfying, and revealing glimpse into Kate’s origins. Now that we have answers, here’s hoping that the next book will explore the inevitable confrontations.

Magic Burns is a tease and a page-turner. Peppered with furry, sticky violence and rapier wit, the whirlwind tour of Atlanta is far from over.