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.
Doctor Who: Smith and Jones
by Russell T Davies; dir. Charles Palmer (BBC, 2007)
A diverting enough romp that throws everything at the mission brief: introducing Martha as the Doctor’s new companion. Freema Agyeman makes a strong first impression. The militant bureaucratic Judoon are sufficiently ridiculous that Davies can take walloping great liberties with the plot.
Wednesday, Season 2
(Netflix, 2025)
A bit of hodgepodge, plot-wise, though still highly bingeable on an episode-by-episode basis. Wednesday’s dark snark is overdone—the writers enjoying themselves too much—but the bodyswap episode does at least allow Jenna Ortega (and Emma Myers) to mix it up some.
Bodies from the Library 5
Selected Lost Stories of Mystery and Suspense by Masters of the Golden Age
ed. Tony Medawar (Collins Crime Club, 2019); audiobook read by Philip Bretherton (HarperCollins, 2022)
The written equivalent of a b-sides collection. Anthony Boucher and Julian Symons are worth reading, but mostly the author biographies prove more diverting than the stories. John Bude’s (only ever) novella ‘Murder in Montparnasse’ is a laborious slog through the patently obvious.