The Fragile Threads of Power
by V. E. Schwab (Tor, 2023)
audiobook read by Kate Reading, Marisa Calin & Michael Kramer (Macmillan Audio, 2023)
A long book, very much focussing on the journey rather than the destination (a pit stop a third of the way through a trilogy). Schwab’s worldbuilding is fine. Her characters generally hold interest (Tes especially). Still, there’s a sense of manufactured epicness.
Austin Powers: International Man of Mystery
dir. Jay Roach (1997)
A supremely silly, at times affectedly stilted spoof turned love letter to the 1960s, propelling flamboyant swinger spy Austin Powers (Mike Myers) into the 1990s and pitting him against both culture shock and his cryogenically frozen/reanimated arch-nemesis Doctor Evil (also Mike Myers!).
Black Mirror: Demon 79
by Charlie Brooker & Bisha K. Ali; dir. Toby Haynes (Netflix, 2003)
Gloriously dark yet laugh-out-loud funny, even while tackling such topics as racial prejudice (in Britain immediately post- the Winter of Discontent), just murder, and Fight Club–reminiscent mental imbalance. Anjana Vasan, Paapa Essiedu and Shaun Dooley bring impressive truth to their characters.
Doctor Who: Blink
by Steven Moffat; dir. Hettie Macdonald (BBC, 2007)
No ‘Doctor-lite’ episode should work this well, but Moffat’s script offers an adroit balance of humour, suspense and timey-wimey SF, the Weeping Angels are creepily effective (at least as a one-off), and Carey Mulligan, taking the lead, puts in a virtuoso performance.
American History X
dir. Tony Kaye (1998)
A confronting and uncomfortable film that depicts extreme racism head-on, exploring its manifestation, causes and, above all, perpetuation. Ed Norton puts in a powerful performance as a full-fledged then reformed neo-Nazi skinhead, subtly complemented by Edward Furlong as his idolising younger brother.
Lost Girl, Season 2
(Showcase, 2011-2012)
Season Two dials back the succubus angle, knotting miniature story arcs together and presenting Bo more as a generic hero powered by good intentions. Anna Silk looks increasingly limited in her acting range but Ksenia Solo steps up as the unsung star.
Blake & Mortimer: The Time Trap
by Edgar P. Jacobs; trans. Jerome Saincantin (Cinebook, 2014)
[from Le piège diabolique, 1962]
![Graphic novel cover: “Blake & Mortimer: The Time Trap” by Edgar P. Jacobs; trans. Jerome Saincantin (Cinebook, 2014) [from Le piège diabolique, 1962]](https://www.derelictspacesheep.com/wp-content/uploads/2025/06/Jacobs_Time-Trap.jpg)
Three Boy’s Own time travel adventures, unleavened by humour and heavy with in-story exposition—in addition to which, Jacobs keeps up a narrative voiceover that reads suspiciously like illustration notes-to-self inadvertently left pasted alongside each picture. Artistically accomplished but a real slog.
Black Mirror: Metalhead
by Charlie Brooker; dir. David Slade (Netflix, 2017)
Black Mirror does Terminator in a people-lite, black-and-white rural dystopia, across a runtime short enough not to outstay its welcome or make the lack of backstory too problematic (such absence in any case yielding to an artfully held-back skew on character motivation).
Birds of Prey: Megadeath
by Kelly Thompson; ill. Leonardo Romero & Arist Deyn (DC Comics, 2024)
Plenty of empowerment, lots of fight scenes, not much else (although Big Barda and Harley Quinn exhibit character beyond the bog-standard superhero mould). The art is busy/cluttered, Romero contributing five instalments to Deyn’s one, which, juxtaposed, is jarring in its waiflike depictions.
John Carter
dir. Andrew Stanton (2012)
Not terrible, but terribly ill-conceived. While the acting stands up, the story at once deviates from A Princess of Mars (fair enough) but also shoehorns in muddled bastardisations of every possible plot point. Carter’s leaping about adds a dusting of computer-game absurdity.