“Vesper,” a French-Lithuanian-Belgian hybrid, is a post-apocalyptic science fiction extravaganza dripping with murky atmospherics. In a world of mud and muck, shattered by genetic disasters, a young woman, Vesper, played with restrained, believable brilliance by Raffiella Chapman, spends her days eking out an existence trawling horrid swamps for food for herself and her comatose father. Nearby, a monstrous overlord (played with chilling force by Eddie Marsan) makes Vesper’s life difficult. Vesper’s stasis ends when a wan woman stumbles out of a wrecked flying craft, and she is forced to make huge decisions and to unfurl her homegrown biohacking skills. Dark in color, dark in mood, dark in music, Vesper offers bleakness and courage and a beautifully rendered ugly future. Very much arthouse but with a backbone of narrative spark, Vesper stands out from the current overloaded dystopian sub-genre.
Written by Bec Evans & Chris Smith [6/10]
Writers thirst for advice on how to write, and this writer/reader is no exception. I am a strong fan of artistic creative coach Eric Maisel, whose books have saved me many a time. But I’m always up for more, and “Written: How to Keep Writing and Build a Habit That Lasts,” written by writer Bec Evans and journalist/researcher Chris Smith, is a welcome addition to this sub-genre. They run Prolifiko, a writers’ coaching business that would, on the basis of Written, be a great aid to many writers. Essentially their underlying principle is one of individuality: standard writing advice might suit one person but not another, and over the ten chapters (plus a terrific concluding section), they provide tons and tons of tips around a careful framework based on research (into writers) and psychology/neuroscience. Much of the stylishly presented theory and advice was at least vaguely familiar to this grizzled writer but I extracted a number of new or forgotten gems about how to write in our distracted, fraught modern world. Whether you are a writer launching yourself or a jaded hack, Written is recommended as highly readable and most useful.
Upright Season 2 by Tim Minchin [6/10]
The first season of “Upright” was Tim Minchin at his best (my review): funny, wild, a script that worked as both propulsive and emotionally deep. Season 2, then, is a bit of letdown, although it is perfectly watchable. Minchin again plays Lucky, now a successful rock performer wasting his life, until young Meg from Season 1 lobs on his doorstep and takes him on an odyssey into the jungles of northern Queensland. The acting remains sold throughout and some of the snappy dialogue works, but the plot is naff and the overall story arc is shoddy. The action scenes lack flair and the Lucky-Meg dialogue retains little of the initial humor. Minchin himself remains highly engaging and the short episodes charge along, but overall, Upright Season 2 feels hurried.
Colin From Accounts by Patrick Brammall & Harriet Dyer [7/10]
Patrick Brammall and Harriet Dyer bring wonderfully timed comedic dialogue expertise to “Colin From Accounts,” a cutesy rom-com series that mixes subtlety and in-your-face oddness. Brammall plays Gordon, owner of an inner-city Sydney brewery, Dyer is Ashley, a younger medical student, and the pair meet and bond over an accident with a dog. Both are awkward misfits and quirky characters at the same time, and around them swirls an ensemble cast of similarly distinctive people bringing modern city life into colorful repose. Each of the short episodes reminded me of a seventies sit-com dabbling with modern themes and ideas: always amusing, sometimes touching, never dull but also skating across any deeper themes. A pleasure to indulge in over a week but never aspiring to more, Colin from Accounts felt to me, in the watching, like a few ideas short of brilliant.
Witch King by Martha Wells [7/10]
A masterful fantasy and science fiction author, equally adept in either genre, Martha Wells kicks off “Witch King” in the middle of the kind of confused action fantasy readers love. Kai—Kaisteron actually, a demon unusually living above the underworld, and mysteriously called the Witch King—wakes in a befuddled underwater prison and emerges to explore why he was there and to exact revenge. Kai is very much a Martha Wells creation, just slightly human-off-kilter and amoral, yet deeply feeling and quickly embraced by the reader as he tracks down trapped and hidden friends and enlists allies, while setting off on a journey through an astonishingly built fantasy world of technology and magic. Overlay a dazzlingly complex tapestry of peoples and alliances and enmities, throw in the genocidal Hierarchs, and the result is a swirling, fascinating, entertaining first entry in a must-read new fantasy series. Welcome, Witch King.
The Conspirators by G. W. Shaw [8/10]
Young Jacob Meaney, the reluctant hero of “The Conspirators,” is a quiet, smart multilingual translator, keen for a dollar because his girlfriend has issued an ultimatum, so when a mysterious rich person offers him a huge amount to interpret between Russian and Hindi over a few days in a remote Slovenian villa, he jumps at the chance. Quickly it becomes clear that he is in the murkiest of waters, and his situation plunges into fraught mayhem with no way out. A well-traveled ex-journalist, turned mystery and thriller writer, George Shaw is blessed with a cunning grasp of plot, lightness of touch in style, and, especially, it seems, an affinity toward throwing ordinary people into impossible situations that bring out the best in them. The action rips along, with the reader forever guessing the next twist in the plot’s skein, and the climax clocks in perfectly. A bonus is a fascinating peek into the world of book translation. Seeking a one-sitting entertainment spasm? Look no further, The Conspirators will satisfy.
Empire of Light by Sam Mendes [8/10]
A Sam Mendes film is always worth waiting for, and “Empire of Light” is a minor gem. It revolves around a gorgeous movie theater in a southern England coastal town, sumptuously filmed by Roger Deakins, Olivia Colman is unforgettable as a forty-something manager in the cinema, possessing a hidden flaw, who falls badly for a young black usher, wonderfully acted by Micheal Ward. Other delightful cast members include Toby Jones as the projectionist and Colin Firth in an uncharacteristic sleazy role as the manager. The film starts gently enough, but with a pulse clearly going somewhere, and a revelatory mid-movie plot twist tumbles the viewere into an entirely different film, one of intense pathos. Wonderfully evocative scenes of the times (the early 80s) round out a terrific viewing experience that lingers. Empire of Light presents itself as too mild to be significant but its carefully wrought undercurrents make for a fine film.
Invention and Innovation by Vaclav Smil [8/10]
Super-technology-analyst Vaclav Smil has the wonderful capacity and ability to burrow into details and yet scan from the highest possible heights. His “analyses” are either weaponized (anti-renewable folks loved him but now he’s smashing nuclear power!) or derided as myopically extrapolating from the past. I see him as a marvelous provocateur to be read and absorbed and then carefully digested. “Invention and Innovation: A Brief History of Hype and Failure” is his latest no-holds-barred mixture of historical adventure and bristling polemics. Decrying what he sees as a current fad for overestimating the pace of innovation, Smil starts by recounting the histories of three “inventions that turned from welcome to undesirable”: leaded gasoline, DDT, and chlorofluorocarbons. Then he unfolds the histories of “three inventions that were to dominate – but do not”: airships, nuclear fission, and supersonic flight. Then, three “inventions that we keep waiting for”: travel in a (near) vacuum, nitrogen-fixing cereals, and controlled nuclear fusion. Each mini history is a tour de force of unpacking data analytically, cogently, and authoritatively. Smil’s final chapter is his now-familiar rant that decarbonization targets and hopes are hopelessly ambitious, at least based on any history.
Some of Smil’s recent prolific output has seemed to flirt with excessive emotionalism. Make no mistake, Invention and Innovation is at heart a diatribe, a familiar one, but the historical underpinnings are a pleasure to absorb and his unexpurgated opinions certainly add to our current debates about the future. Recommended.
Hinge Points by Siegfried S. Hecker [8/10]
So much has been written about the weird, dysfunctional manner in which North Korea, an isolated, totalitarian country, has armed itself with nuclear weapons, a slow, steady, seemingly unstoppable process over three quarters of a century. A test of the global nonproliferation regime that has seen that structure fail, North Korea’s nuclear arming has fascinated scholars and participants. Now we have the definitive account, by superbly credentialled American physicist, Siegfried Hecker. Not only is his technical experience, at Los Alamos Laboratory and elsewhere, been first rate, he visited North Korea, at their invitation, over 2004-2010, and dealt with both diplomatic and technological negotiations. “Hinge Points: An Inside Look at North Korea’s Nuclear Program” is his account of his jaw-dropping experiences, related in a fluid, commanding style, but also his analysis of what he calls “hinge points,” moments of missed opportunity to ratchet back the nuclearization. It is no surprise to anyone with any perspective of the last three decades of the North Korean debacle (for that is what it was) to hear that the most recent Republican administrations were blind and incompetent on this issue, but both President Clinton and President Obama come in for reasoned criticism. Hinge Points is THE go-to analysis and account of this story and was, for this reader, a delight to read.
The Candle and the Flame by Robert Forster [9/10]
Albums from the wonderfully droll, poetic, and oddly radical Robert Forster sound at first to be amateurish but then speedily morph into ear candy. So too “The Candle and the Flame,” his first album since 2019’s Inferno. Produced at home and roping in family and friends as needed, Forster delivers nine delightful, low-key but muscular songs anchored by his trademark semi-conversational voice. The album kicks off with a brilliant curio, a furiously strummed riff over which Forster spits (singing to his wife who came down with ovarian cancer), “she’s a fighter, fighting for good,” before “Tender Years,” a gorgeous love song. “There’s a Reason to Live” offers homespun philosophy over an unforgettable, lilting melody, while the closer, “When I Was a Young Man,” is a lovely, poetic reflection on the past. Overall, The Candle and the Flame is a brilliant package that cuts through the ephemerality of much modern music.