The Clock Strikes Twelve
by Patricia Wentworth (J. B. Lippincott, 1944)
audiobook read by Diana Bishop (Isis, 2010)
Wentworth cheats a little by employing an expurgated omniscient narrative to deflect attention. The ever-coughing Miss Silver is like a cuddly Miss Marple, and has the distinction of solving the murder as she goes, rather than keeping mum for a big reveal.
Luther: The Fallen Sun
by Neil Cross; dir. Jamie Payne (Netflix, 2023)
The manipulative, ‘hands off’ serial killer offers a point of difference (Andy Serkis, smilingly psychopathic). Still, Luther’s move from series to feature-length offers little to compensate for a pervading bleakness. Idris Elba is mostly consigned to staggering. Dermot Crowley brings some finesse.
Lucifer, Season 6
(Netflix, 2021)
What begins as a purely extraneous season, pulls itself into shape (through the addition of Rory and all the thematic strings her presence allows for) to become a surprisingly moving 10-episode finale, offering heart, humour and closure for characters and viewers alike.
Queenslayer
by Sebastien de Castell (Hot Key, 2019)
audiobook read by Joe Jameson (Hot Key, 2019)
Kellen remains resourceful (and de Castell ingenious in flipping him between frying pan and fire), but in the absence of Ferius Parfax becomes rather too insistent on self-sabotage. His inner bleakness adds a darker, more adult tone at the expense of escapism.
John Wick: Chapter 4
dir. Chad Stahelski (2023)
More, more, more of the same, adding a blind swordsman who might as well not be, and close-quarters gun battles made magically palatable (the director hopes) by talk of physics-defying Kevlar formalwear. Wick’s epitaph should have read ‘Wished he’d tried disguising himself.’
A Monstrous Regiment of Women
by Laurie R. King (St. Martin’s Press, 1995)
audiobook read by Jenny Sterlin (Clipper, 1996)
King presents an earnest and edifying depiction of women’s struggle for recognition, rights and self-governance after the First World War. This backdrop, however, comes rather at the expense of Mary, who exchanges precocious Sherlockian competence for a dubious arc of emotional growth.
Faust Eric
by Terry Pratchett; ill. Josh Kirby (Victor Gollancz, 1990)
audiobook read by Stephen Briggs (Transworld, 2007)
A novella-length Discworld offering that seems to have been written more as a showcase of Josh Kirby’s artwork than as a narrative of any great purpose or coherence. Rincewind is well past his sell-by date. The story comes across as leftover brainstorming.
Star Wars
dir. George Lucas (1977)
Objectively not as good as nostalgia would suggest, but still a trailblazing masterpiece. Star Wars is oddly paced, surprisingly dark, yet also straightforward (a forgotten virtue) and packed with character humour. A dramatic and action-packed audio/visual extravaganza, perfectly cast and eminently quotable.
A Symphony of Echoes
by Jodi Taylor (Accent, 2013); audiobook read by Zara Ramm (Headline, 2021)
St Mary’s babbles along happily, its collective personality submersed once again within Max’s narrative brook. The missions incorporate both genuine suspense and frivolous light relief (indistinguishable in advance). The upshot is quirky chaos and an overriding, flatpacked plot arc resistant of assembly.
Twixt
dir. Francis Ford Coppola (2011)
Francis Ford Coppola dreamed an idea for a small-town gothic horror film. Only wisps of substance stayed with him when he awoke, but he made the film anyway (employing some artful cinematography to almost no dramatic effect). Only Elle Fanning emerges unscathed.