Sunday, 31 December 2023

Reading List: December.

Non-Fiction: 
 
Amy Key: Arrangements in Blue. Notes on Loving and Living Alone.
Joanna Biggs: A Life of One's Own. Nine Women Writers Begin Again. 
Casey Parks: Diary of a Misfit. A Memoir and a Mystery.
Bruce Henderson: Fatal North. Murder and Survival on the First North Pole Expedition.
 
Fiction: 

Nita Prose: The Maid.
Nita Prose: The Mystery Guest. 
Jenny Xie: Holding Pattern. 
Ally Wilkes: Where the Dead Wait.
Bethany Jacbos: These Burning Stars. 
Alison Rumfitt: Brainwyrms.
Waubgeshig Rice: Moon of the Crusted Snow. 
Jane Harper: The Survivors.
Christina Henry: Near the Bone.

Films: 

Voleuses (2023, Mélanie Laurent).
It's a Wonderful Knife (2023, Tyler MacIntyre).
The Wonder (2022, Sebastián Lelio).
Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse (2023, Joaquim Dos Santos, Kemp Powers, Justin K. Thompson).
Sibyl (2019, Justine Triet).
May December (2023, Todd Haynes).
The Holdovers (2023, Alexander Payne).
How to Blow Up a Pipeline (2022, Daniel Goldhaber).

Shows: 

Der Pass, Season Three.
Full Circle, Season One.
Carol and the End of the World, Season One. 
Vigil, Season Two. 
Somebody Somewhere, Season One, Two. 
Pokemon Concierge, Season One.

Shows of the Year

Best new show:


The Last of Us

As someone who watches a lot of television, my favourite moments are always the ones where connections seem to unfold between unconnected stories. The Last of Us (based on the game) feels like a companion piece to last year's Station Eleven (based on the novel), both when they're at their best investigating the old Voyager adage that survival is insufficient. Ellie and Joe are both deeply damaged, especially Joe, who has tragically lost his own daughter and is all the more reluctant at the beginning to make himself vulnerable to Ellie (who is very hard not to love). The third episode departs from our regular cast to create a love story from beginning to end, in which Murray Bartlett and Nick Offerman (a man who will never play a character that is not competent, what an achievement) build a nest together in the ruins of society and find meaning in their curated, beautiful life. Long Long Time is perhaps one of the best episodes of television (not just this year). 

Poker Face

At some point after the first season of Russian Doll came out, some people on twitter commented that Natasha Lyonne could be the spiritual successor to Peter Falk's Detective Columbo - and then, somehow, through serendipity, Rian Johnson (now providing us with annual counterpoint whodunnits to Kenneth Branagh's revival of Hercule Poirot) must have come to the same conclusion. Poker Face, like Columbo, is not a whodunnit - each episode begins with the crime, so that the audience is well aware of who has committed it. Following Lyonne's Charlie Cale and her indefeatable instinct for telling lies is where the charm of this show lies. Each episode is full of stars who act like they're having the time of their life (and what other television show can boast to have John Darnielle's acting debut as well as songs written by him specifically for an episode). 


Beacon 23

It took me a few episodes to get into this show, even though it should have been the easiest sell ever (Lena Headey) - this is a science fiction show about a galactic lighthouse, outfitted with a (very emotional) AI. The show mainly focuses on Headey's Aster and Stephan James' Halan unravelling a mystery about space rocks, but there is also a deeply philosophical approach where individual episodes go back in time to show the fates of previous beacon keepers (it seems that like olden days lighthouses, beacon keeping attracts eccentrics who translate into fascinating characters on-screen), and characters discuss the fate of humanity (expansion into the stars vs focusing on community, transcending death). The result is something quite unlike anything else I've seen.

The Horror of Dolores Roach

Justina Machado, great since Six Feet Under, stars in an inspired adaptation of Sweeney Todd set in Washington Heights. The story brilliantly weaves together the effects of incarceration and gentrification with the morbid twist of the original story, with Dolores' (frequently deserving) victims ending up in empanadas instead of meat pies. 

Best one-season show:


 
Carol and the End of the World  
 
I think this may be a show that is best consumed without knowing much about it beforehand, and it is one of the few ones that I've taken a lot of time to watch slowly this year, to really let the episodes marinate before moving on to the next one. Of all things, it reminds me most of Somebody Somewhere - the idea of discovering meaning and connection as an outsider.  


Jury Duty

A deeply high-concept show that pays off amazingly, in part because somehow, this show found the perfect mark for its long con. Without Ronald's empathy and loveliness, this could have gone awfully wrong, but somehow, the experiment works out. 

The Changeling

This magnificent, beautiful adaptation of the Victor LaValle novel of the same name (LaValle taking the role of the narrator) is stunning. It's a complex tale about motherhood and fairies who steal children, the ravages of post-partum depression and the troubles of not being believed, of being unsure about reality. It contains some of the best performances of the year - and it finally, finally allows the great Adina Porter to fully shine (in episode seven, she basically performs a one-character play, holding attention for every second - until Alexis Louder joins her in a devastating performance as another lost son). LaKeith Stanfield is amazing as the father and husband, searching for an explanation, Clack Becko as mother and wife, being asked to do horrible things to get her son back.  

While the Men Are Away

This was such a surprise! Like Bomb Girls if written as a poignant comedy rather than a drama, this show focuses on the Land Army, women who help out in regional areas with male farm workers going overseas to fight in WW2. Delightfully queer, but also very much about what happens when female aspirations meet an inherently patriarchal society. One of the most moving performances is by Phoebe Grainer, who plays an Aboriginal woman who is trying to protect her brothers from the profound racism and constant threat of living in a mission - and the stakes are constantly higher for her than for her white co-workers, a fact the show never shies away from. 

Willow

I hadn't watched the 1988 film until the first few episodes of this aired, and as much as it doesn't exactly look great - the effects are awkward, Sorsha's character development from daughter of an evil woman to supporting the heroes happens through a kiss and no reasoning (and she has barely any lines), the fact that the television show managed to cast two people who capture the spirit of being Madmartigan's (it's sad Val Kilmer couldn't be in the first season for health reasons) twins so perfectly is pretty stunning. I'd say that 85% of this show thrives on the ensemble cast and how they come together, how each of them on their own is loveable but they also take the idea of a quest to heart, and change throughout it. It's a manifold heroes' journey, with a lot of heart. 

Full Circle

Best show:


The Bear

What a great second season for The Bear! The kids are trying to revamp The Beef into The Bear, including dealing with all the bureaucratic red tape that entails and the utter catastrophe that is both the building itself and Carmy's family. The most impressive thing about the show is how it oscillated between the beauty of creation and the genuine moments of caring between characters (when they bring out the best in each other) and the almost Better Call Saul like tension when things go awry, which happens often (when they bring out the worst in each other). Some favourite moments this season: Marcus being sent to Copenhagen to train with Will Poulter, Richie sent to an excellent restaurant to polish forks and learn about the meaning of service, including a magical moment with Olivia Colman (!!!) in which she provides guidance so he doesn't keep fucking up his life (very fitting full-circle moment for me since first seeing Olivia Colman dispensing useful if chaotic advice as Naomi's mum on Skins), a Christmas episode so emotionally fraught and tense that it made me want to take a nap, that also features: Sarah Paulson, John Mulaney, Bob Odenkrik, Gillian Jacobs, Jamie Lee Curtis!

Only Murders in the Building

After a slightly less successful second season, the third season of Only Murders in the Building is a revelation - Oliver's return to Broadway is marred by his Hollywood-turned-stage-actor star (played with appetite by Ryan Reynolds) being murdered on opening day. After some hesitancy (Mabel suffering the effects of an early midlife crisis and the unaffordability of living in New York without access to the free apartment at the Arconia), the three besties return to try and solve the murder. One of the greatest things about OMITB is that it always attracts great guest stars (I hope because everyone is having a ton of fun, at least that's what it looks like), and this season features Meryl Streep (what can't she do)... performing in the musical version of Oliver's musical, after he thinks his way through his dilemma. There is so much to love here, like the running joke of Steve Martin's Charles failing to get through a a patter song without going to a dark place.

The Newsreader

Somehow the second season of the ABC's show about a commercial news programme in 1980s Australia is even better than the first - Anna Torv (a joy! We are going through a Torv-eissance!) and Sam Reid (fresh off of playing Lestat in Interview with the Vampire, a character that could not be any more different from Dale) return to cover 1987, from election day to the obsession with the preparations for the 1988 bicentennial to the ravages of the heroin and AIDS crisis. The show's incredibly tense fifth episode is its best so far, in which Helen makes a career-changing decision (in a season that seems to be all about ethics in news, and about the ascent and failure of a Lachlan Murdoch stand-in, perfectly timed with the real-life retirement of his inspiration's dad - and for additional entertainment I suggest looking up who Anna Torv is related to) and Dale chooses the worst decade to wake up next to a stranger after getting black-out drunk. My only criticism is that the episode-by-episode themes don't carry through more - with the incidental timing of the show airing just as the referendum on the Voice is coming up, the coverage of the Aboriginal protests against the blind celebration of colonisation should have carried through the entire season, instead of relying on just one impactful appearance by Hunter Page-Lochard.

Foundation

The second season of the century-spanning Foundation, which feels like an improvisational jam on the source material, adds great new characters, and showcases how the hubris of Empire will bring the downfall that Sheldon predicted. There is also a freedom to the season that is incredibly enjoyable to watch, as is the fact that the second season embraces humour a lot more than the first one did, with Lee Pace embracing the over-the-topness of his character in a highly entertaining way. 

The Lazarus Project

I only watched the first season, which originally came out in 2022, this year, and was glad not to have to wait too long for the second season. It was an interesting season to watch alongside Orphan Black: Echoes, as both shows are about the consequences of characters not processing their grief and exploiting a loophole to avoid the process. In the case of The Lazarus Project, the loophole has greater, world-encompassing consequences, and one of my favourite parts of the second season was that Sarah became central to the plot in her own right, as she came to entirely different conclusions than George about what needed to be done. 

For All Mankind

Abbott Elementary
 
Somebody Somewhere 

I somehow missed this show when it originally came out last year but caught up with its two seasons in 2023. This is about a woman who returned to her hometown to care for her sister, now stuck after the death of her sister in her grief and loneliness. She accidentally stumbles into a vibrant, queer community where she least expects it (choir practice) and finds a new best friend and people to help her navigate her feelings. The second seasons has many moments of deeply frustrating self-sabotage, but ends fittingly with both a funeral and a wedding.

Saddest Goodbyes:

I have previously expressed how much I love the Australian version of Masterchef, and how I feel that it all came together when the old judges left and were replaced with Andy Allen, Melissa Leong and Jock Zonfrillo. It's a magical thing when the chemistry of three people perfectly aligns, especially in a genre that can be wrought with conflict and mean-spiritedness. The loss of Jock Zonfrillo - a man who also seemed to be endlessly excited by good food, and generous in his celebration of it - feels immense. 

Star Trek: Picard

I've been on the books for a long time to want, desperately, for the stepchild of Star Trek, Deep Space Nine (a show that I feel was years ahead of its time, and broke ground for the gritty BSG remake and The Expanse), to eventually get the same nostalgia-tinged treatment that has been afforded to TNG and Voyager. It's what's kept me at a bit of a distance from Picard over its three seasons, each of which has been different. The third is exactly that: a loving tribute to a long-running show and its cast, with the addition of Seven of Nine, who has finally gotten what she always deserved (it sure wasn't the skinsuit of the late 90s/early 2000 hellyears - let's hope Jeri Ryan gets many more great gigs after this). It is hard to accept that this final season features shapeshifters but not those who originally fought the Dominion wars, that Benjamin Sisko is still off in the wormhole with no reference to his fate. That doesn't detract from the joy of seeing Deanna Troi, Geordi LaForge, Data, Beverly Crusher, William Riker and Worf (who is very much there for honour and comic relief) reunited with Picard on the original Enterprise D, even if a reference to Word never weeping hits hard at those of us still grieving Jadzia Dax 25 years later. It's a beautiful send-off.
 
Reservation Dogs

And:

I wanted to get excited about the science fiction show Silo, but it never really got back to the greatness of its pilot episode, in which Rashida Jones gives the performance of a lifetime. I really loved Aotearoa show Sik Fan Lah, which combines food and history. Kristen Kish travelled to Restaurants at the End of the World for the National Geographic. Survivor Australia had one of the greatest seasons the show's ever had anywhere in the world (tragic that one of the best players once again lost out on the win), sometimes more perfectly scripted than actual scripted shows (Simon's arc! Shonee!). And talking about reality television, the first iteration of Alone Australia surprised me - the winner embraced the idea that nature shouldn't be conquered but embraced. 
My favourite episode of the sixth season of Charlie Brooker's Black Mirror is the final one, Demon 79. The draw that I feel for Black Mirror has always been about something different than it's speculation about what happens at the intersection between technological advances and the dark side of humanity: it's a series written by a man who clearly watches as much television and film as I do. There's a meta- kind of draw to that pop cultural self-referentiality (it's why I enjoyed the first episode more than most reviewers, even though it was objectively not that great). But Black Mirror, at its best, creates perfect short stories. It will likely never be as good as San Junipero again, but Demon 79, and the performances by Anjana Vasan (We Are Lady Parts!) and Paapa Essiedu. 

2008 | 2009 | 2010 | 2011 | 2012 | 2013 | 2014 | 2015 | 2016 | 2017 | 2018 | 2019 | 2020 | 2021 | 2022

Music of the Year

Albums:

Black Belt Eagle Scout / The Land, The Water, The Sky
Cable Ties / All Her Plans
Body Type / Expired Candy
Vagabon / Sorry I Haven't Called
Joanne Robertson / Blue Car
PJ Harvey / I Inside The Old Year Dying
Boygenius  / The Record EP 
Mitski / The Land Is Inhospitable and So Are We
Lakecia Benjamin / Phoenix
Yaeji / With a Hammer
Angel Olsen / Forever Means EP
Fatoumata Diawara / London Ko!
The Mountain Goats / Jenny From Thebes 
Sampha / Lahai
Jessy Lanza / Love Hallucination
The Kills / God Games

Songs:

Abbey Blackwell: Fight or Flight (on My Maze)
Being Dead: Muriel's Big Day Off (on When Horses Would Run)
Andrea: Silent Now (on Due in Color)
iSOLA: Aquarius (on LP1)
Joanna Sternberg: I've Got Me (on I've Got Me)
Rainy Miller & Space Afrika (feat. Mica Levi): Maybe It's Time To Lay Down The Arms (on A Grisaille Wedding)

2009 | 2010 | 2011 | 2012 | 2013 | 2014 | 2015 | 2016 | 2017 | 2018  | 2019 | 2020 | 2021 | 2022

Films of the Year

Blue Jean (2022, Georgia Oakley)
Showing Up (2022, Kelly Reichardt)
Women Talking (2022, Sarah Polley)
Natten har øjne (2022, Gabriel Bier Gislason)
Tytöt tytöt tytöt (2022, Alli Haapasalo)
All the Beauty and the Bloodshed (2022, Laura Poitras)
The Royal Hotel (2023, Kitty Green)
Anatomy of a Fall (2023, Justine Triet)
The Holdovers (2023, Alexander Payne) 
Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse (2023, Joaquim Dos Santos, Kemp Powers, Justin K. Thompson).

Also: 

Barbie (2023, Greta Gerwig)
Emily the Criminal (2022, John Patton Ford)
Aftersun (2022, Charlotte Wells)
How to Blow Up a Pipeline (2022, Daniel Goldhaber)
May December (2023, Todd Haynes) 
Roter Himmel (2023, Christian Petzold)
Voleuses (2023, Mélanie Laurent)
Marcel the Shell with Shoes On (2021, Dean Fleischer Camp)
Talk To Me (2022, Danny Philippou, Michael Philippou)
Birth/Rebirth (2023, Laura Moss)
My Animal (2023, Jacqueline Castel)
Bottoms (2023, Emma Seligman)
Against the Ice (2022, Peter Flinth)
The Menu (2022, Mark Mylod)
Corsage (2022, Marie Kreutzer)
She Said (2022, Maria Schrader)
The Banshees of Inisherin (2022, Martin McDonagh)

2009 | 2010 | 2011 | 2012 | 2013 2014 2015 | 2016 | 2017 2018 2019 | 2020 | 2021 | 2022

Favourite Books I've Read This Year

Non-Fiction:

Michael Wallis: The Best Land Under Heaven. The Donner Party in the Age of Manifest Destiny.
David Welky: A Wretched and Precarious Situation. In Search of the Last Arctic Frontier. 
Buddy Levy: Empire of Ice and Stone: The Disastrous and Heroic Voyage of the Karluk.
Gershom Gorenberg: The Accidental Empire: Israel and the Birth of the Settlements, 1967-1977.
Rashid Khalidi: The Hundred Years' War on Palestine. A History of Settler Colonial Conquest and Restance, 1917-2007.

Fiction:

Emily Tesh: Some Desperate Glory. 
Kemi Ashing-Giwa: The Splinter in the Sky.
Bethany Jacobs: These Burning Stars. 
Michelle Min Sterling: Camp Zero.
C Pam Zhang: Land of Milk and Honey.
Sin Blaché and Helen MacDonald: Prophet. 
Marisa Crane: I Keep My Exoskeleton to Myself. 
Rebecca Rotert: Last Night at the Blue Angel.
Tananarive Due: The Reformatory.
Trang Thanh Tran: She Is a Haunting.
Alix E. Harrow: Starling House.
Caitlin Starling: Last to Leave the Room. 
Victor LaValle: Lone Women.
Ling Ling Huang: Natural Beauty. 
Megan Abbott: Beware the Woman.
Jessica Knoll: Bright Young Women.
Rebecca Makkai: The Great Believers.
Chloe Michelle Howarth: Sunburn.
Bronwyn Fisher: The Adult.

Emily Tesh
's Some Desperate Glory is a great science fiction novel with a captivating protagonist: Valkyr has never known a world different from the small human settlement of Gaea station, a Sparta-like warrior culture obsessed with avenging the death of Earth. It is obvious to the reader that this is a deeply troubling culture that is obsessed with breeding child warriors, is deeply misogynist, does population control through state-sanctioned rape and ideologically indoctrinates its young who cannot even perceive of an alternative. As the story progresses, Valkyr realises that she has been told lies, that other humans live very different lives elsewhere and appear to be happy. This universe is defined by an artificial intelligence programmed to make the best decisions for the greatest number of people, a prime directive that has led to the destruction of Earth, but Valkyr's attempts to change the course of history fail - only for her to be thrown into an alternative timeline where she was never raised on Gaea station. Some Desperate Glory asks questions about how upbringing informs identity, but also the impossibility of the great heroic act, as any decision that Valkyr makes lead to horrible outcomes for someone. 

I read Michelle Min Sterling's Camp Zero right after finishing Birnam Wood by Eleanor Cotton, and it feels like these two should be read in tandem, as they have similar concerns. In both novels, billionaires continue the tradition of extractive capitalism while also attempting to build themselves oases far away from the ecological consequences of their greed. In Camp Zero, a tech billionaire is exploring whether the Canadian North has deposits of a mineral he needs to update his (implanted) social media platform that is wreaking havoc on human relationships and people's memories, all under the cover of building a sustainable community far from the ravages that is plaguing the South. The individuals caught up in the ploy have to figure out how to build lives while caught up in the greater power structures at play. 

Land of Milk and Honey
by C Pam Zhang will stay with me for a long time. This felt like a year of writers tackling the moral deprivation of the immorally rich: here, a man who dominates the novel more like a crime boss than a traditional billionaire escapes a world horribly changed by the climate catastrophe by building an arc of sorts in the Italian Alps, where a team of scientists recreates lost animals and plants, working towards a plan to afford a group of privileged people (and some servants) an escape hatch from the consequences of their greed. Zhang's main character is a chef and invited into the mountains to cook for a selected group of guests - except in the end, she is asked to do so much more, and bears witness to the perversity that unfolds. The novel beautifully ties food in with memory - or rather, the food only becomes meaningful when it does connect with memory, and before that, it feels like an empty signifier of excess and wealth. 

I Keep My Exoskeleton to Myself
is a very grim twist on a world that values a twisted concept of safety above freedom. Marisa Crane's protagonist Kris is a "Shadester": in this dystopian world, the criminal justice system has been radically transformed, and anyone who has been found to transgress is given a second shadow, and is discriminated against and constantly observed. After the traumatic death of her wife, she is raising her child in the shadow of this unfair and oppressive system, navigating discrimination and the mistrust and violence of those who are biased against her while trying to cope with her own trauma. This is a novel about someone who is trying, desperately, to build a liveable future for herself and her daughter against impossible odds, finding her own path to parenthood and meaningful resistance.


Ling Ling Huang
's protagonist in Natural Beauty had to abandon a career as a pianist after her parents' death but an unexpected opportunity opens when she is approached to work in a high-end beauty and wellness shop called Holistik, which offers a range of products and treatments to stave off the effects of aging. What emerges is a horrible portrait of a business that profits from its customers obsession with surface-level beauty, who would do anything to appear beautiful and young and ask no questions about the true price of what they consume. Like a cult, once Holistik has its claws in the protagonist, she finds it harder and harder to escape. 


In Trang Thanh Tran's She Is a Haunting, Jade returns to Vietnam to visit her estranged father, who is restoring an old colonial home. As she struggles with her family dynamics, she also becomes aware that the house itself is haunted by its dark colonial history, but to try and protect her sister and herself, she also decides to stage a haunting with the help of a woman his father has hired to do the publicity for the future holiday home. This is a great horror novel featuring hungry ghosts, but also a family portrait, showcasing the scars that personal and political history leave on places and people. 




Victor LaValle
portrays frontier women in Lone Women, following a protagonist who is escaping to a Montana town where "lone women", due to vague language, can own property without a husband. She has a heavy trunk in tow that holds a family secret, but soon, that secret can no longer be contained - but the true monster, it turns out, are the close-minded and racist inhabitants of the local town, who try to shape their settlement to their own limited ideas, and a horrifying family of murderers and thieves, who appear to steal and inhabit other people's lives after getting rid of their previous owners. 

Rebecca Rotert
's Last Night at the Blue Angel is told through the eyes of two protagonists, the enigmatic singer Naomi Hill, who is escaping her childhood home to build a career as a Chicago singer, and through the eyes of her daughter years later, coping with a parent who is ill-suited to parenthood. The portrait of the queer night life of Chicago in the 1960s is beautiful, as is Sophia's relationship with father-stand-in Jim, a photographer (based on Richard Nickel), who is desperate to preserve Chicago's architecture against a policy of urban renewal that is focused on destruction. Sophia's dread of nuclear annihilation and feeling that nothing is permanent translates into endless lists of things that she fears will be lost, Jim's fear of the loss of architectural heritage is translated into photography of a city that is fading. 


Megan Abbott
's Beware the Woman feels like a departure from the hard-boiled stories she usually tells. A woman travels with her new husband to the house of his charismatic father. Both men are excited for her pregnancy, until complications showcase that she doesn't truly know either of them, and can't depend on the medical establishment to help her - and now that is dependent on their goodwill, their misogynist ideology reveals itself, constructing a horrifying cage. When she tries to break free, she discovers terrible secrets. This is a breathtakingly claustrophobic thriller. 

In her second novel, Jessica Knoll, inspired by the unbelievable veneration that a famous serial killer experienced both at his own trial and in the media, after his death, portrays the victims without ever naming the man who took their lives. The book follows one of the women, who tenderly builds a life of her own after she escapes an overbearing mother, and the survivor of a massacre that cost the lives of two of her friends in a sorority house. Bright Young Women follows a decades-long quest for justice, but it's most important point is its rebuke of the idea that this killer was charismatic (she ridicules him when he decides to defend himself, she captures his hatred of realising that others, including the women he targets, are smarter than him) - instead he comes across as deeply odd, profiting from women fearing what would happen if they say "no", or appearing unkind if they aren't accommodating to men. 

Rebecca Makkai's The Great Believers is a breathtaking and profoundly moving novel that takes place in two timelines, intertwining the lives of its characters in a powerful exploration of love, loss, and resilience. Set against the backdrop of the AIDS crisis in 1980s Chicago and contemporary Paris, Makkai creates a narrative that is both heart-wrenching and beautifully hopeful. There is a returning motif of art that is lost due to the death of its creators, like empty spaces in museums (the recollections of a dying muse take the story back to the years before the first world war). The prose is exquisite, capturing the raw emotions of her characters with depth and sensitivity. Through themes of friendship, art, and the enduring power of human connection, Makkai delivers a poignant and unforgettable story that lingers in the heart long after the last page.

Chloe Michelle Howarth's Sunburn is set in Ireland at the end of the 1980s, spanning until the mid-1990s. It's a captivating love story about two girls in a small town where everyone knows each others secrets. The main protagonist, Lucy, has to choose between two different partners that symbolise two very different life paths - she can follow her heart, against the rampant homophobia surrounding her, or take the safe option with her best friend and essentially live the same life that her parents have mapped out for her. 

Tuesday, 19 December 2023

random mixtape - you can't wish them away.

 pretty girls make graves | pictures of a night scene. the kills | new york. jessy lanza | midnight ontario. sampha | dancing circles. the mountain goats | ground level. joanne robertson | take me in. mitski | i don't like my mind. courtney barnett feat. vagabon | don't do it (sharon van etten cover). pretty girls make graves | the magic hour. the mountain goats | jenny iii.

Tuesday, 5 December 2023

Orphan Black - Table of Contents

Season One. 

Season Two: 

Nature Under Constraint and Vexed.
Governed by Sound Reason and True Religion.
Mingling Its Own Nature With It.
Governed as It Were by Chance.
Ipsa Scientia Potestas.
To Hound Nature in Her Wanderings.
Knowledge of Causes, and Secret Motion of Things.
Variable and Full of Perturbation.
Things Which Have Never Yet Been Done.
By Means Which Have Never Yet Been Tried.

Season Three: 

The Weight of This Combination.
Transitory Sacrifices of Crisis.
Formalized, Complex, and Costly.
Newer Elements of Our Defense.
Scarred By Many Past Frustrations.
Certain Agony of the Battlefield. 
Community of Dreadful Fear and Hate. 
Ruthless in Purpose, and Insidious in Method. 
Insolvent Phantom of Tomorrow. 
History Yet to Be Written. 

Season Four: 

The Collapse of Nature.
Transgressive Border Crossing.
The Stigmata of Progress.
From Instinct to Rational Control.
Human Raw Material.
The Scandal of Altruism.
The Antisocialism of Sex.
The Redesign of Natural Objects. 
The Mitigation of Competition. 
From Dancing Mice to Psychopaths.

Season Five: 

The Few Who Dare.
Clutch of Greed.
Beneath Her Heart.
Let the Children and Childbearers Toil.
Ease for Idle Millionaires.
Manacled Slim Wrists.
Gag or Throttle.
Guillotines Decide.
One Fettered Slave.
To Right the Wrongs of Many.

Orphan Black: Echoes

Season One: 

Orphan Black: Echoes - The best thing that we can do is just let go.

Orphan Black: Echoes: 1x10 We Will Come Again.


I’ll be okay. 

Oh Jules! The conclusion of the first season of Orphan Black: Echoes, which has not even aired yet in the United States and is therefore in limbo when it comes to renewal, genuinely made me sad, and I did not quite see it coming either. Amanda Fix’ performance has been a stand-out, and she captures Jules’ bravery and sadness perfectly. Especially in the last two episodes, she has been vocal about the family she has found when she discovered Eleanor and Lucy – how it feels like a homecoming, after feeling alien in her foster family (remember, the walls were never fully painted), and uncomfortable in her life with all of those fake planted memories that were clearly incongruous with her as a person. Lucy makes a great sacrifice in this episode, choosing not go with Jack and Charlie to keep them safe from the consequences of being around her, but it’s Jules who truly stands out as someone who is bravely facing what fighting against Darros requires, even though she is only sixteen and would have every right to stand aside and let the grown-ups do the fighting. 

First of, Lucy learns from Tom that he wants to exchange Charlie for Jules because it’s what Darros wants. Tom would prefer getting to kill Lucy, but it looks like for now he is still under the control of the man whose approval he desperately seeks. Lucy is hesitant to sacrifice Jules, because it would be deeply immoral to ask that sacrifice of a child, even though Jack seems willing to (he is forgiven as a desperate father, but I think it reveals why he ultimately has to leave in the end – his priorities don’t align with the fight). Jules overhears and makes the choice herself, willingly giving herself up to keep Charlie safe. The episode doesn’t dwell much on Charlie and this additional trauma, because unfortunately it doesn’t have enough time to investigate further, but it must have been horrifying for her to be held by Tom, without the ability to communicate with him, and then to lose another mother-figure when Lucy stays behind. Being abandoned is one of her greatest fears, and now it is happening again, not due to any shortcomings on Lucy’s part (which Charlie seems to understand – she only requests that Lucy promise to save Jules), but because of the circumstances they’ve found themselves in. Lucy is giving up her found family that has propelled her forward and given her reason, but she has also found a new reason, and her protectiveness of Jules stems from the genuine connection she has with her that goes beyond their shared biology. 


Luckily for them, Xander’s memories (memories that reveal what kind of person Darros is, but also ask bigger question about whether the technology has advanced further than even Kira knows) have now put him firmly in the anti-Darros camp. He can get them into the compound to free Jules, and Darros will be gone with most of his security team for the big launch that is just ahead. This is essentially a heist – Xander will grovel to Darros, biting his tongue when he weaves a smartly constructed tale that fits in perfectly with how Paul sees himself (thanking him for being the strong one, offering the opportunity not to have to carry that burden by himself). Darros will reinstate him on the groundskeeping team, even if it’s just for a trial period, giving Xander the chance to smuggle in Lucy. Meanwhile, Kira will attend the launch and distract Paul with questions about his sister. In the background of the plan is the question of what the launch is, exactly, and the discovery runs alongside the planning and Darros’ final reveal. Eleanor and Kira break back into the closed down lab to print the faces of the scans they’ve found in the vault (this reveals that they are eleven teenagers, and one more scan that they can’t decrypt). Someone Eleanor knows (I think maybe the woman she’s been having an affair with?) can get them access to the census database to identify who exactly Darros has printed. It’s not something the show addresses explicitly, but what that turn of events reveals about data security and privacy in the 2050s is pretty harrowing, especially in conjunction with Paul’s access to the entirety of the US’ medical data. The future is truly dystopian, even if for now that realisation only plays out on such a small scale. 

Eleanor realisation that all of the scans she can identify belong to the greatest minds of the previous generation (some of whom have passed away) comes just before Paul reveals his “Genius Project”. He claims to have identified highly intelligent youths in the foster care system whom he has placed with loving families to harness their intelligence and find solutions for the world’s greatest problems. The truth is deeply cynical: he is a man who wants “pure potential” without the baggage of having to deal with actual people. Surely there are actually many kids in the foster care system that would be suitable, and in profound need of that help, but instead he has harnessed the minds of the previous generation (what I would call a boomer move), and therefore stripped the risk of any unforeseen developments. He has created a completely controlled situation – obviously these kids have not been placed in families, instead, the claim unrolls just as Lucy and the newly freed Jules discover grim pods in the basement of the compound, outfitted with restraints and pictures of fake family members. They have been printed without any memories and raised like lab rats, a tabula rasa for Paul to project his ideas on, without the risk of the kind of opposition and rebelliousness that Jules has. When Kira confronts him with questions about Zora, his sister, to stall him, he replies that she “can’t let go of the past, I only think about the future” – but it’s a future that he fully controls, that negates individuality and the ability to meaningfully make choices. He claims that the ends justify the means, and that he is beyond questions of ethics because he doesn’t do it for personal gain, while Kira used the technology to try and reverse the death of her wife. 


Instead of trying to leave quickly, Lucy and Jules once again do the responsible thing and collect as much information as they can to try and reveal the truth about Darros. Meanwhile, Xander has been tasked with disabling the printer, although it is unclear if he actually does. They run out of time: Darros returns early, and delivers a whole speech about how his project is meant to prevent “corruption” – like how Lucy, with her opposition to him, has corrupted Jules. He shoots Jules in the head, and then reveals to a grieving and outraged Lucy that he has already created another, more pliant version of her (suitably blonde, because we know who Darros wanted Jules to be based on the memories he tried to give her). And: Eleanor successfully identifies the final print-out, and discovers that it’s a young version of Kira Manning herself. 

Random notes: 

The only person who ends this season with a shred of happiness, at least for now, before she finds out what happened to Jules, is Kira: Eleanor has been thinking about what to do, and has decided to follow Lucas’ advice that if Kira gives her meaning, she should keep her in her life. She pulls out the garden to start afresh, “here, with me”, as Kira asks, disbelieving her luck. 

There is a little last-moment side-story here about Rhona trying to blackmail Kira into printing her father that just hangs there, maybe to be picked up again next season – in an episode that feels like it doesn’t really have enough time in the first place, it feels a bit sudden and rushed, even if it reveals Kira’s deep regrets over what she has done and her conclusion that printing the person she loved wasn’t the right way to deal with her grief. 

Jack: You’ve been looking for who you are for a long time and maybe you didn’t think you would find people who are actually you, but you did. It’s okay for it to mean something. 

I like how Xander knew exactly what to say to Paul: he has, after all, studied him, and knows him in and out.

I really hope we get a second season, and I feel like that in spite of the definiteness of the headshot (deliberate, presumably, because they’ve successfully revived a gunshot victim before…), there is still a bit of wiggle room with the reveal that the technology does new and unexpected things that make Xander’s memory possible. 

Friday, 1 December 2023

The Royal Hotel


Kitty Green’s The Assistant threw Julia Garner’s character into a film production company in which a man, never fully seen, had free reign to abuse women, with the institutional support of the entire organisation. It was set up as an incredibly tense piece, in which more and more slightly off-kilter happenings added up to a horrible realisation. Jane was a witness, with very limited power to effectively intervene in a system set up to fail women. Green successfully accomplished two things: painting a terrible portrait of an institution through the eyes of someone coming in from the outside and situating herself within it, and showing the process of weighing information and an increasing sense of unease until it adds up to an inescapable conclusion. 

Like The Assistant, The Royal Hotel is loosely based on real events. It takes inspiration from the 2016 documentary Hotel Coolgardie, in which two Finnish backpackers experience the horrors of working in a small Western Australian town pub. The camera observes as they face severe misogyny and xenophobia by a clientele outraged that they refuse to confirm to whatever expectations they have of two women working behind a bar. Having recently been robbed in Bali, just leaving isn’t really an option: they’re economically dependent on the job. In The Royal Hotel, Julia Garner’s Hanna and Jessica Henwick’s Liv end up in a rural pub when Liv runs out of money in Sydney. They’re American, pretending to be Canadian because people like Canada. An agency places them in a mining town in the middle of nowhere, with the ominous warning that they’ll have to cope with a lot of male attention there, a deeply disturbing moment early in the film that feels like the first of many red flags that pop up before the two even arrive at their destination. It doesn’t feel like the agency woman talking to them feels any responsibility for them – they’re foreigners, fed into a well-oiled machine, without the resources to make any other choice. They’ve likely never read the countless stories of overseas workers who have gone through horrible ordeals (stories of women who barely made it out alive, or haven’t). It’s also obvious from the start that there is a rift between Hanna and Liv already: Hanna is a lot more cautious and willing to cut their adventure short to go back, whereas Liv is open to continue on wherever it takes them. Liv is the one without money, and the friendship between them is why Hanna goes along with it. 

If Hanna goes into it with a sense of unease, each consecutive moment in the film pushes her further towards the realisation that this was an error. They have to take a train, a bus, a car to the pub – making it clear how difficult it would be to leave if they have to. There’s nothing else there – the old Royal Hotel stands like a leftover of a forgotten time, and without cars, they’re trapped there. A promised pool turns out to be an unfilled bowl of concrete. They also learn quickly that this is a very different Australia than the one they’ve previously experienced as tourists (in the first scene we see them on a party boat in Sydney Harbour, surrounded by other tourists – they appear to not have travelled far or long enough to have realised that ordering a Foster’s at the bar is a cultural faux pas). Hugo Weaving’s publican Billy greets Hanna’s thinly veiled disgust at his question of whether they speak English by calling her a “smart cunt”, which he may have meant as a compliment (the punters at the bar certainly don’t mean it as such when they add “sour” to it), but just raises Hanna’s sense of unease even more. It’s an interesting decision by Green to focus on two Americans, who come into the experience with a certain expectation of at least having a fluency in English, only to discover that it doesn’t get them very far through the cultural divide, which takes an entirely different kind of deciphering (there’s a whole scene that implies that there is also an undercurrent of anti-black racism at play, when an Aboriginal delivery driver hesitates to come in for a drink – a moment that remains undecipherable for Hanna). 

A lot of reviews of the film have compared it to the 1971 Ted Kotcheff film Wake in Fright, in which a school teacher is stranded in an outback town and journeys into the darkness of violence and drinking culture – but The Royal Hotel adds the element of gender to it, and the specific kind of threat that women face in that environment. From the first night of service, they experience the kind of low-key jokey sexism that is always a thin veil for an abyss of violence beneath, especially in a place so devoid of other women, and of anyone who should speak up for them (the full extent of Billy’s support is to tell Hanna to smile more, to bring in more customers). The miners have clearly run other overseas travel visa workers through the paces before (the implication is that they are always female), and Liv and Hanna are walking right into an established power structure that they don’t understand yet. Liv remains open and willing to give everyone the benefit of the doubt, often resorting to the argument of “cultural differences” whenever Hanna brings up a moment where she felt severely unsafe. Hanna is tasked with the impossibility of weighing her own sense of possible danger against the demands of her friendship, and the increasingly difficult task of keeping Liv, especially when she drinks to excess, safe. It’s an interesting choice to know so little about either of the them – all that the film gives us is Hanna’s hesitance about alcohol, because of her mother’s drinking, and Liv’s statement that they’ve both tried to get as far away as possible from something back home. The crowds at the pub don’t really care about who they are beyond their willingness to play along with the rules they’ve set, and the one thing that sets them apart is Hanna’s unwillingness to confirm to their expectations. 

Billy is technically their boss, and he should be responsible for their safety, but his drinking, only slightly curtailed by his constantly exasperated partner Carol (Ursula Yovich), and the hotel’s debts (which add to the sense of unsafety – what if there’s no money at the end of the ordeal?) make him entirely ineffectual. The three men that stand out among the pub’s clientele seem to vie for the girls in their own way – Matty (Toby Wallace) makes himself seem relatively harmless when he takes the girls out to a swimming hole and keeps them company, but he has ulterior motives, and it becomes clear that his help is conditional when Hanna rebukes him. Teeth (James Frecheville) seems harmless enough, a guy who has his drinks at the bar and a constant eye on Liv, but seems willing to at least share some vital information about the situation they’ve found themselves in. The most obviously dangerous is Dolly (Daniel Henshall), who teeters on the edge of violence throughout, which occasionally erupts into thrown chairs and threatening and mocking other customers. It becomes increasingly hard for Hanna to walk the line between being just accommodating enough to avoid escalation and to stand up for both of them to draw boundaries. The situation gets out of control when Billy goes to hospital, and Carol indicates that neither of them will be back: she tells the Liv and Hanna to run the bar by themselves for another week and then take whatever money is owed from the profit. Hanna calls a Norwegian she met in Sydney to pick them up and take them away, but he has clearly had a radically different experience of Australia than them – whatever illusion of safety he gives off as an outsider fades almost immediately. A night escalates, Hanna receives an incredibly unsettling phone call from one of the women who worked in the pub previously, trying to make sense of a statement that could indicate a harmless check-in or a message that one of them has disappeared after Dolly drove her to the bus stop (the film leaves it vague – it’s up to the viewers to decide the story, the true extent of the horror). Then she narrowly rescues Liv from being driven away in a car, avoiding what is clearly implied to be an intended rape. The film turns at this point – all the implied danger from the gender imbalance, the violent and sexual comments, the sense of isolation in a crowd of drunken men, end in Hanna grabbing an axe to ensure Liv’s safety. There’s no going back at that point, and whatever has been brewing beneath the surface is now fully in view. Matty, who reveals himself as just another monster under the veneer of friendship, tries to break into the hotel along with Dolly, so that they can both claim their prize. Hanna is injured in the struggle, and Liv only realises that Hanna has been correct in all her warnings when she sees the blood on her face. Teeth stops Dolly and Matty, but not out of the goodness of his heart, but because he sees an earlier claim he’s made on Liv as thwarted by the two men. No one is a safe person to trust. 

The Royal Hotel has all the markings of a horror film. The Royal Hotel itself, for two women without a car in a place where the bus only goes twice a week, might as well be an inescapable locked room with monsters at the door. The miners have created their own little ecosystem of rules that female workers are thrown into like prizes to be claimed. Hanna burns all that shit down in the end – using all the booze that fed the violence as fuel – so at least nobody else will be fed to the machine. 

2023, directed by Kitty Green, starring Julia Garner, Jessica Henwick, Ursula Yovich, Hugo Weaving, James Frecheville, Toby Wallace, Daniel Henshall.