Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (2016), directed by David Yates

The Harry Potter franchise is a fantastic beast indeed and JK Rowling is making the absolute most of it. The title was a textbook at Hogwarts School of magic, authored by Newt Scamander. The movie takes us to New York in 1926, which Scamander visits prior to publishing his book, based on his fieldwork. The evocation of the era is lovely; the special effects are great and must be truly spectacular in 3D; and Scamander’s world of fantastic beasts is truly magical. The film is too long and would have benefited from a harder edit and a few more laughs. It does develop some timely themes about the perils of bullying and victimising the ‘other’, highlighting the dangers of driving difference underground where it can become twisted and destructive. Eddie Redmayne inhabits the socially awkward Scamander, but sometimes swallows his words; Colin Farrell makes a suitably dark villain and Katherine Waterston is sweet as the black sheep American auror who changes from enemy to ally. An unexpected cameo from Johnny Depp is spot on and the best work he has done in some time, given its brevity.

Dead Men Don’t Order Flake, by Sue Williams

Fish and chip shop owner Cass, a middle-aged widow and part time private investigator (unlicenced), is looking into the road accident death of a young journalist. In this she is hampered by her rather dense son, who also happens to be the local cop, and sometimes helped by her fellow residents of the one-horse town of Rusty Bore. At the same time she must deal with the sudden reappearance of her teenage sweetheart – long thought dead. This flippant murder mystery sees Cass traversing the dusty country roads to the neighbouring two-horse town of Hustle and the thriving regional metropolis of Muddy Soak. The action is brisk, the characters fully realised and avoiding caricature and the relationships authentic, those between mother and sons particularly striking a chord. It may have been helpful to have first read the previous book featuring Cass, as there are several obscure references to previous events that are not explained. They are not intrinsic to the plot but they are to the characters and their sometimes complicated relationships.

Enchanted Glass, by Diana Wynne Jones

Academic Andrew Hope has forgotten most of what he learned about magic as a child from his grandfather. When he inherits his grandfather’s house and his field-of–care, Andrew is at a bit of a loss. Orphaned Aidan needs Andrew’s help in fending off both the authorities and his magical stalkers. Luckily he is able to help in return with Andrew’s magical memory problem. Easily blending the magical and real worlds, Diana Wynne Jones brings her usual mix of complex human interactions, romance, adventure and humour to the last novel published in her lifetime. The slightly ambiguous ending leaves open the possibility of a sequel, but it was not to be. Her death from cancer in 2011 was a sad loss to the world of fantasy writing. It is such a pity there will be no more of these wonderful books, but at least there is the joy of re-reading the favourites.

Living Dangerously, by Katie Fforde

This early novel from the prolific Fforde follows her standard formula. As ever, her characters are engaging and her topics well researched – giving the story more depth than your average romance, although it is perhaps less polished than her later books. Her heroines are usually 30-something, with interesting careers or prospects, not virgins, but not too experienced (we can’t possibly have a slut!). They are set among the British upper middle classes, often in the Home Counties or just beyond and almost totally shun modern technology – mobile phones and computers seldom intrude on or contribute to the plot. We are generally introduced to the bloke she will end up with very early on – it is just a question of following the inevitably tricky path to true love. In Living Dangerously, 35-year-old Polly is an aspiring potter who works in a café to make ends meet. Her friends are keen for her to ‘couple-up’, but will she choose toy boy journalist Tristan or the reserved widower David, a wealthy wine merchant? The title of this one is a bit of a stretch, as there is precious little danger on offer, and the underlying topic of urban renewal versus greedy property developers is treated a little perfunctorily. But the journey to the inevitable conclusion is enjoyable and entertaining, even if the predictable conclusion is boringly conservative. Just occasionally it might be fun if one of Fforde’s heroines did live dangerously and choose the bad boy, but that would not fit the template that her loyal legion of fans are undoubtedly happy with.

Dr Strange (2016), directed by Scott Derrickson

Apart from his slightly wobbly American accent, Benedict Cumberbatch makes a convincing and at times compelling Dr Strange. His transition from arrogant neurosurgeon to broken wreck to humble-ish student to reluctant superhero is interesting and believable and that red cloak is to die for. Rachel McAdam doesn’t have enough to do as his erstwhile lover Christine and Mads Mikkelson is wasted as the villain, but it is always good to see him on screen in anything. Tilda Swinton is her usual marvellous self as the Ancient One and her interplay with Strange is the most entertaining element of the film. The action scenes are a bit long and repetitive, with the fun special effects somehow reminiscent of Inception and a bit overdone. As usual it is worth staying beyond the credits for a glimpse of the next Marvel film.

Through a Camel’s Eye, by Dorothy Johnson

A case of an abducted camel becomes a murder mystery in the sleepy Victorian seaside town of Queenscliffe. Rookie cop Anthea, reluctantly deployed to the country, gradually comes to terms with her new circumstances and her new boss. Mild-mannered local cop Chris has to learn to trust and accept help from his new offsider. More than a crime drama or police procedural, the novel is an ode to quirky country towns and their characters, painting both lovingly without ignoring their flaws. The language is lyrical, evoking a strong sense of place. Some convenient coincidences allow the crime to be solved, but not at the expense of the overall story arc, which is satisfyingly resolved.

The Road to Winter, by Mark Smith

In post-apocalypse Australia, teenager Finn has been fending for himself for a couple of years, thanks to his survival skills and his Dad’s foresight. He keeps sane with the company of his dog and by surfing – his escape from dismal reality. Into Finn’s isolated and relatively safe life bursts Rose, who is on the run from a gang of ‘wilders’. She brings excitement, danger and a world of possibilities. Tense and thrilling, this assured debut novel is a worthy addition to the growing genre within YA fiction that looks into a dystopian future. It rushes a bit to the conclusion, which nevertheless works, while leaving room for a potential sequel.

Sunset Song (2016), directed by Terence Malick

A sweeping adaptation of what has been billed as the classic Scottish novel; Sunset Song doesn’t quite work as a film and would probably be better as a TV mini-series. Agyness Deyn is miscast as Chris; she has an expressive face but her acting abilities are tested beyond their capacity and she looks far too old for the part of a girl depicted from around the age of 15 to 22. One could say she is a woman of many Ys and not a few whys. The story is pretty grim, encompassing paternal brutality, marital rape, murder-suicide, attempted incest and to top it all off, World War 1. There is a brief pre-war period when Chris comes into her own and finds love and happiness, but the film soon descends once again into grim reality. The device of Chris narrating her own story, seemingly by reading chunks of the book, is clunky and annoying. Some of the dialogue is ludicrous and some of it incomprehensible. The use of music is unsubtle, although some of it is beautiful. The cinematography and costumes are lovely; the supporting cast is interesting, including Daniela Nardini as Chris’s mother. The film is too long and painfully slow; there are way too many long lingering shots of the land, of Chris’s face looking at the land and of the changing light on buildings and the land. We get it; the land endures where nothing else does. Chris represents the land and she endures. The message is heavy handed to the extreme.