The Ruby Circle, by Richelle Mead

The alternating voices of the two main characters continue in this sixth and final novel of the Bloodlines series. Again this meets with limited success, as Sydney’s voice is noticeably stronger and clearer than Adrian’s. All the elements of the previous five instalments – vampires, witches, alchemists and warriors - come together in another fast-paced adventure as the crew work to rescue kidnapped Moroi princess Jill Dragomir. Along the way Adrian must battle with the seductive effects of spirit use while Sydney tries to reconcile with her Alchemist family. All while the two get a start on married life with a mother-in-law on board. Everything is tied up a tad too neatly in the end, but with a promise to revisit the Bloodlines universe at some time in the future.

The Dry, by Jane Harper

Small town suspicion about the death of a teenage girl led to Aaron Falk and his father being run out of rural Kiewarra. Twenty years later he returns for the funeral of his former best friend, Luke. Falk is now a federal police officer, specialising in financial crimes, but not much has changed for the miserable townsfolk in an area now gripped by drought. He reluctantly extends his stay to help the local cop investigate what is ostensibly a murder-suicide. Does it link back somehow to the death 20 years ago that caused his departure? Harper brilliantly evokes the dry dusty landscape and the townsfolk soured by hardship and experience. Flashbacks give an interesting insight onto the minds of departed characters, but occasionally spell out too much, not crediting the reader’s ability to join the dots. The local river has run dry – an effective metaphor for the hearts and lives of people in a crippled town. Falk is a somewhat enigmatic character, but the relationships and conversations ring true, in an intriguing mystery, satisfactorily resolved.

Salt Creek, by Lucy Treloar

The grim reality of Terra Nullius and the natural consequences of colonialism and invasion are brought to life in Salt Creek. The Coorong in the 1850s is unsuitable for farming but arrogant English adventurers, with ambitions far ahead of their abilities, displace the native population to give it a go anyway, wrecking the land in the process. The families of these incompetent, hypocritical pillagers are almost as much their victims as the local aboriginal tribes, all suffering deprivation, unnecessary illness and hardship - especially the women and girls. The story is told from the point of view of teenaged Hester, memories recalled 20 years later, back ‘home’ in England. She is the middle child and eldest daughter of the settler Finch family, who tries to hold everything together while the actions of her feckless father destroy all around and the family disintegrates. It takes a while to get in to the story, the back and forth between 1850s South Australia and 1870s Chichester is a little confusing and some of the set-up is a little dull. But Treloar gradually establishes a strong sense of time and place, building an appreciation of the beauty of this unique region, even as despair and frustration grows as the deluded religiosity of the British ruling class undermines all that is good.

Star Wars: The Last Jedi (2017), directed by Rian Johnson

The latest episode of the Star Wars juggernaut is watchable good fun with a hokey plot. It picks up straight from the final scene of the previous film, on the spectacular jagged island. It’s all about Luke Skywalker and Mark Hamill is wonderful in the role. There are parallel stories of Rey’s interaction with Skywalker and the rebels under extreme pressure from Snoke and the First Order. It is both sad and lovely to see Carrie Fisher as the leader of the rebellion in what was presumably her last film. Adam Driver is more compelling in this outing, less like a spoilt brat as Ben Solo/ Ren Kylo, and his relationship with Rey is interesting. There are some nice smaller roles for some classy actors, especially Laura Dern, although Benicio Del Toro’s codebreaker was a caricature too reminiscent of something else. A plethora of strange creatures enliven proceedings, including some that are grotesque and some cute and funny, which will undoubtedly make for good merch sales. Some of the film was beautiful, some of it was funny, most of it was action-packed – none of it was transformative – and for that many millions in budget it should have been.

Paddington 2 (2017), directed by Paul King

Absurd and very funny, this sequel sees the Peruvian marmalade-loving bear trying to earn enough money to buy his aunt a special gift for her hundredth birthday. Ben Whishaw is utterly convincing as the naïve bear, with Sally Hawkins a standout as his substitute mother Mrs Brown. Hugh Grant is in his element as the has-been actor Phoenix Buchanan, who stands in Paddington’s way and sets him up for a fall. Neat little cameos from the likes of Noah Taylor, Maggie Steed, Tom Conti and a host of British character actors add to the fun, along with a fabulous steam train. A charming tale with a lovely message of inclusivity, Paddington 2 is one of those family films that offers laughs on many levels, entertaining both kids and adults because of, rather than despite the ridiculous plot.

A Killing in the Hills, by Julia Keller

Journalists usually employ a stripped back, direct style required for reporting, which can be too spare when used in fiction. The other trap for former journalists is to overcompensate, cramming too many adjectives into each sentence, bloating descriptions. Julia Keller falls into the latter category, tending to the florid. She nevertheless provides a clear picture of the causes and effects of grinding generational poverty in a mountainous rural district. Prosecuting Attorney Bell Elkins is a survivor of such a region, with a traumatic childhood. She escaped her background but is driven to return to her impoverished home town to try to effect change. Unfortunately a few good people battling the odds against the war on drugs are pissing in the wind when nothing is done to address the systemic causes. Plot and characters suffer from a credibility deficit. Bell, her bratty teen daughter Carla and the cold-blooded killer all take actions at various points that just don’t tally with their motivations. The plot completely falls apart towards the end and it is no longer possible to suspend disbelief about the behaviour of the killer and the identity of the big drug crime boss. The road to a hellish novel is paved with good intentions.

Whiskey Tango Foxtrot (2016) directed by Glen Ficarra and John Requa

Tina Fey plays Kim Baker, a TV journalist in New York who finds herself well outside her comfort zone when she accepts an assignment in Afghanistan. It is an interesting story, with potentially interesting characters, but a curiously detached storytelling style leaves the viewer cold. Perhaps having two directors was the problem. Tina Fey is always entertaining, but this treatment of life as a war correspondent is perhaps too trivial and lightweight. It skates over the issues to concentrate more on the addictive nature of the lifestyle. Margot Robbie shines as an intrepid rival reporter and Martin Freeman is solid as a charming photojournalist. It’s fun to see Home and Away alumni Stephen Peacocke bob up as an ambiguous security detail. Over all the film lacks depth and could have been much better, with a heap of great ingredients not quite combining for a tasty recipe.

Silver Shadows, by Richelle Mead

Mind control, torture and deprivation – the dark side of the Alchemist cult is fully revealed in the fifth Bloodlines book. It is again told from the alternating viewpoints of now-renegade Alchemist Sydney Sage and her lover, Moroi prince Adrian Ivashkov, with Adrian’s voice gaining some strength. The secretive Alchemists have always walked a fine line in protecting the interests of humans and vampires, but the extreme lengths they will go to in disciplining their own clearly demonstrates their delusion on being a power for good in the world. The sheer number of ‘re-education centres’ shows the growing problem of Alchemist dissent, giving rise to the question of just who are the monsters. Can Sydney’s resilience and intelligence and Adrian’s determination win through against the forces ranged against them? The gripping tale overcomes a few minor plot queries to end on yet another cliffhanger to signal the direction of the final novel in the series.

The Fiery Heart, by Richelle Mead

This fourth instalment of the Bloodlines series uses a different structure to those that came before, which also indicates a change in focus. The first three were all in Sydney’s voice from her point of view; this one alternates chapters between the young Alchemist and Adrian, her vampire boyfriend. The benefits of this include a fresh perspective on events and the chance to see events that occur when Sydney is not around without the need for tedious exposition. It also indicates that their forbidden relationship is real, signalling a future of dealing with the complex politics of their world on a personal level as well as the already tricky professional. The downside is that Adrian’s voice isn’t established with the clarity and strength of Sydney’s, so the new structure doesn’t serve the story quite as well as it could. The love story dominates the action, with all events complicated by the arrival of Sydney’s younger sister, Zoe, an aspiring and fervent Alchemist. The narrative does start to move more off campus; with signs that everyone’s time in Palm Beach may at last be coming to an end. So how will our newly emerging force to be reckoned with manage to stay together? The book ends on a very steep cliffhanger, which is both exciting and annoying. Those invested in the story will read the next book anyway – no need to tease quite so hard

Edge of Tomorrow (2015), directed by Doug Liman

The rather romantic name of this film is totally deceptive, it is better described as Groundhog Day on steroids. Tom Cruise is perfectly cast as smug military PR flack Cage, who suddenly finds himself on the front line of a losing war against alien invasion. Just how he wound up there is a puzzle never explained, but never mind plot logic – on with the action. And there is action aplenty as Cage is caught in a time loop that sees him become a battle-hardened warrior, developing the ability to defeat the enemy. Emily Blunt is the best thing about the film, adding action hero to her diverse range. The multicultural military unit includes a couple of Aussies, Kick Curry and Noah Taylor, who add a touch of humour to lighten the unrelenting violent action. Starship Troopers comes to mind at various points, but this film takes itself far more seriously and is much less fun.

The Indigo Spell, by Richelle Mead

Alchemist Sydney Sage is still at a prep school in Palm Springs helping protect a Moroi princess from assassination. But she has a lot of other things on her mind. She is under threat from a predatory witch and must quickly develop her illicit magical powers to defend herself. She has to track down the rogue Alchemist Marcus and find out if the Alchemists really are working with the Warriors against the Moroi. And then there is Adrian, for whom she is developing totally inappropriate feelings and who wants more from Sydney than she is allowed to give. The poor girl is pulled every which way and must figure out her priorities and what she really wants out of life, rather than just doing what she is told. Will Sydney abandon her upbringing, her training and her duty to join the renegade Alchemists? It may be the safest option. The Bloodlines story is a bit in stasis in this novel while Sydney does some growing up. There is a feeling that future novels really need to move on from the high school setting, which has become somewhat irrelevant, to take the action forward. The love story has a nice momentum, but Sydney’s growth has now taken her well beyond the convenient school cover and it needs to change.

Career of Evil, by Robert Galbraith

Even darker and grimier than the first two, this third outing of private investigator Cormoran Strike sees his business and his partner’s life threatened by a vicious killer with a personal grudge. Strike identifies three potential perpetrators, including his stepfather and two ex army types he came up against in his previous career as a military police officer. All three are violent and sadistic psychopaths who have taken delight in making victims of vulnerable women. We find out more about the pasts of both Strike and Robin, learning what makes them tick as they reveal more of themselves to each other and become closer while undertaking this very personal investigation. The identity of the killer is cleverly concealed for most of the book – it could be any of them or none of them, with the reader kept guessing as the tension mounts. Galbraith’s grasp of fine detail adds layers of complexity to the plot, while the treatment of the relationship sub plots takes away some sympathy for both Robin and Strike. This is a difficult read at times, with its horrific level of violence against women.

Vicious series one & two (Kudos)

An incredible cast, headlined by Ian McKellen, Derek Jacobi, Frances De La Tour, and Iwan Rheon, heightens expectations of this British sitcom. The first couple of episodes epically fail to meet such expectations, with genuine laughs few and far between. This makes what sounds like canned laughter a real irritation, but the series was filmed with a studio audience, which perhaps explains its excessive theatricality. Fortunately matters improve, with more laugh out loud moments and even some belly laughs later in the season. Some very old-fashioned sitcom tropes seem pathetically pantomime at first, but they gain the status of an in-joke as the series progresses and are occasionally used to good comic effect. McKellen and Jacobi seem to be having a ball hamming it up as Freddy and Stuart, a couple together for 48 years, who snipe at each other viciously more often than they show their affection. In what could have been a caricature role, Frances De La Tour provides breadth and depth as desperate friend Violet, while Rheon demonstrates his versatility as their naïve neighbour. Memory-challenged friend Penelope, played by Marcia Warren, actually gets the most and best laughs, largely because her moments of clarity are unexpected and unpredictably hilarious. Series two is less strident and over the top, more emotional, less actually vicious than the first. It abandons the tropes and follows more of a dramatic arc. Georgia King seems slightly miscast as the new girlfriend as she literally dwarfs Iwan Rheon. Perhaps that is meant to be funny; it’s not. In episode five there is a quite lovely black and white flashback to when Stuart and Freddie first moved in together. Once again Marcia Warren gets the funniest lines, prompting full on belly laughs. Extras include a Q&A at the end with McKellen and Jacobi, which is touching and funny.

The Golden Lily, by Richelle Mead

The second Bloodlines novel sees Alchemist Sydney Sage and the vampire gang she reluctantly works with still hiding out in Palm Springs while the Moroi world sorts out its political issues. Sydney discovers that Alchemist politics are not as straightforward as she had thought and that she has been kept in the dark about many aspects of her calling. Complicating matters is her foray into dating, a new experience for studious and responsible Sydney. And then there is the increasing pressure from her history teacher to enter the world of witchcraft. Mead’s books are a triple threat. They contain interesting, well rounded characters that you care about; gripping, complicated plots involving real risk and danger; and love stories that weave seamlessly into the plot without dominating it. The bones of the next novel are carefully and subtly laid out to lure the reader on as Sydney investigates her heritage and questions her place within the world.

Resurrection Bay, by Emma Viskic

Private Investigator Caleb Zelic finds the body of his best mate, cop Gary, who has been helping him out on a job. The police seem to think Gary was bent, so Caleb and his partner, ex cop Frankie, have to battle officialdom as well as a vicious crime gang to clear his name and find his killer. Caleb is deaf and has a complicated relationship with his ex wife, Kat. His disability doesn’t hold him back, but his stubborn attitude about it sometimes does. The action is divided between inner northern Melbourne and Caleb’s hometown, Resurrection Bay, on the western Victorian coast. It’s a wild ride, with plenty of bloody violence and twists and turns caused by police corruption and the thorny question of who to trust. The fast and furious plot gets so convoluted towards the end that it disappears up its own backside, which is a pity. The pace and engagement cannot maintain the suspension of disbelief and an otherwise thrilling tale becomes just another average crime story. The vivid characters make it ripe for TV adaptation, a la Jack Irish; hopefully the scriptwriters can improve the plot issues.

Thor: Ragnarok (2017) directed by Taika Waititi

Directed with a lighter touch than many of the Marvel comic book films, some of the humour is pretty lame but some hits the mark and is laugh out loud. It is an interesting juxtaposition seeing the overall theme of the film concerns the potential destruction of Asgard. Chris Hemsworth’s self-deprecating style enables Thor to carry the lighter tone very well. He is ably assisted by Tessa Thompson as the kickass drunken Valkyrie and Jeff Goldblum as the Grand Master. Cate Blanchett chews the scenery and has a ball as Hela the Goddess of death, while Idris Elba is suitably heroic, reprising the role of Heimdall. The casting of several New Zealand actors in small roles (including Waititi himself) kicks the comedy along; the accent alone makes the dialogue funnier somehow, perhaps because it is so unlikely. Hilarious cameos from Matt Damon and Liam Hemsworth add to the fun. The soundtrack is generally very good, with the use of a Led Zeppelin track to underscore action/fight scenes at the beginning and near the end of the film particularly appropriate. The actual plot is, of course, completely irrelevant. Suffice it to say that Asgard is not a place – it is its people.

Attack the Block (2012), directed by Joe Cornish

It’s bonfire night but amid all the lovely fireworks something horrific is descending on a South London council estate. Its resident gang of teenage thugs look likely to graduate from petty crime to full blown violent arseholes, but an alien invasion forces them to team up with their latest victim in a greater cause. The film starts off a little lame, more like an episode of The Bill than a horror Sci Fi flick. It gains momentum as the nasty furry aliens start ripping humans to shreds and the block residents have to pull together to survive, ending with a bang. It is helped enormously by John Boyega’s straight down the line performance as head teen thug Moses, well supported by Jodie Whittaker as nurse Sam, who refuses to remain a victim. Gang members, their smarter female counterparts and two aspiring bad boys inject moments of comic relief and the film is given depth by some light social commentary that scores some well-made points without preaching.

The Third Nero, by Lindsey Davis

Struck by lightning on their wedding day, informer Flavia Albia’s new husband is dazed and confused. Fortunately she has all her wits about her to deal with the latest plot against the Emperor Domitian. The emperor might be unpopular and paranoid, but civil war in the Roman Empire is not an attractive alternative. Dealing with palace intrigues can be very bad for one’s long term survival, but Albia has intelligence, determination and a husband to nurse back to health. Slightly less engaging than previous Flavia Albia novels, this one is nevertheless the usual nice blend of history and detective story that sheds new light on the activities of imperial Rome and imperial Romans.

Ballad for a Mad Girl, by Vikki Wakefield

Grace is a prankster and a risk taker, her behaviour always on the edge - especially since the death of her mum. Amid the pressures of year 12and looming exams, life is changing, alliances are shifting and Grace finds herself more and more on the outer in her semi-rural community. Strange experiences start to haunt her and lead her to investigate the 20-year-old mystery disappearance of a local girl. But is she really being haunted or is she going mad? Maybe both. Grace’s friends and family are equally worried and exasperated. Can they help pull her back from the edge as she plunges deeper into the mystery of what happened to Hannah Holt and how that is linked to her mother’s death? The plot often stretches credulity but the fast pace and strong characterisation helps to leap the gaps and make the story enjoyable.

Ali’s Wedding (2017), directed by Jeffrey Walker

Overwhelmed by the expectations of family and community, Ali tells a lie that compounds into a situation that has him living that lie right up to and including his marriage. This very interesting glimpse of the Muslim experience in Australia gives a warts and all look at life in and around the mosque, with the less appealing aspects glossed over by playing them for broad laughs. Same same but different is the inevitable conclusion. Although warm, engaging and funny, this film does not quite live up to its hype. Some of the music is terrible, the swelling orchestra under every emotional scene overwhelming rather than underpinning the point. The postscript of photos from the real life of Osamah Sami, the film’s writer, producer and star, add a note of authenticity that elevates it beyond an average, if unusual, rom com.

Silkworm, by Robert Galbraith

Cormoran Strike’s economic situation has improved since he solved the high profile case of Lula Landry’s murder. But he is once again in danger of losing his remarkably efficient offsider Robin, who has begun the countdown to her wedding. Vicarious fame may have brought in a steady income, but the divorce cases are dull work and the corporate cases involve dealing with very unpleasant people. So when Leonora Quine asks for his help tracking down her errant author husband, Strike finds his sympathy invoked and his intelligence intrigued. What follows involves a bizarre exploration of the world of publishing. Once again Strike finds himself up against a psychopathic killer, while Robin gets the opportunity to develop her talents. The very strange and twisted murder plot is a little hard to swallow, but the suspense of whodunit is maintained to the end.

Bloodlines, by Richelle Mead

The characters from the Vampire Academy series return for a new adventure, this time told from the point of view of Sydney Sage, the young Alchemist who reluctantly helped out Rose Hathaway in some of the earlier stories. The Alchemists despise all vampires and don’t distinguish between the ruling Moroi, the guardian Dhampir, or the evil Strigoi. But they are sworn to protect humans from vampires and so are drawn in to help prevent a damaging Moroi civil war that could have repercussions for everyone. The Alchemists view Sydney with suspicion because of her previous experience with the hated race, but it also makes her the ideal person to work with them again on this new task. The main players from Vampire Academy days take a back seat, with Lissa’s sister Jill, guardian Eddie and Rose’s ex Adrian taking centre stage. Sydney is between a rock and a hard place trying to navigate complicated relationships, do her job as an Alchemist and keep everybody safe and happy. She has to learn to stand up for herself to achieve this and solve a few mysteries along the way.

The Kettering Incident (Foxtel)

One teenage girl disappears and another is left traumatised after they see mysterious lights in the forest outside Kettering, a small logging town in Tasmania. Fifteen years later Dr Anna Macey has buried her trauma and is living in London. Unfortunately she has been having blackouts that leave her with lost hours, migraines and nosebleeds. One day she wakes up in a hire car outside Kettering with no memory of how she got there from London. A bewildering array of characters is introduced and most of them seem to be corrupt, sinister or disturbed. Heavy supernatural symbolism is less than subtle, underlined by the gorgeous but ominous scenery. Are the terrible things happening in Kettering the result of alien visitation, or just the outcome of terrible past acts by a group of corrupt locals? And just what is the role of Jens, the charismatic leader of the greenies protesting the logging? There is no humour to leaven the heavy atmosphere; Elizabeth Debicki never cracks a smile as Anna, a woman admittedly beset by tragedy. A solid cast of well-known actors make the best they can of a strange and meandering tale that is ambitious and interesting, but ultimately unsatisfying.

Valentine, by Jodi McAlister

Finn, Pearl, Cardy and Marie were all born on Valentines Day and so have all been wheeled out as a little bit special in their small country town. The year they are 17 special turns dark as Marie goes missing after a party and it becomes clear the other three are also in danger. After Marie’s remains are found and Cardy goes missing Finn and Pearl have to work together to keep themselves and their town safe from the supernatural forces threatening them. The only trouble is they can’t stand each other. McAlister maintains a fast pace and a nice balance between teen romance and dark thriller. Pearl and Finn are appealing flawed heroes and there is clearly more to discover about their fairy origins and futures.

He Said She Said, by Erin Kelly

Recent Uni grads Laura and Kit witness a violent incident between Jamie and Beth at an eclipse festival in 1999. The fallout affects all of them for the next 16 years as Kit and Laura forge a life together while chasing Kit’s passion for eclipses. The story is told from the differing viewpoints of the couple, moving back and forth in time. Was Beth really the victim she appears to be? Should Laura have befriended her? Is Jamie wrongly accused or a violent psychopath? Is Kit overprotective and why has he not fulfilled the promise of a brilliant career? What secrets have Laura and Kit been keeping from each other about the past and how will this affect their future? A sense of creeping dread pervades the narrative as these questions and more are asked and eventually answered, with the full truth rather different from what could be imagined. Laura and Kit are fully realised characters, who evoke both sympathy and frustration. Beth is a rather annoying puzzle that is satisfactorily solved in the end, while Jamie remains a little two-dimensional on the periphery. A clever structure following the phases of a total eclipse builds suspense right through to a realistic and convincing conclusion, except for the last few paragraphs, which are unnecessary and unbelievably stupid. This lets down what is otherwise a gripping tale.

Paris Can Wait (2016), directed by Eleanor Coppola

Delicious food and gorgeous scenery do not a movie make. Diane Lane is lovely as neglected wife Anne, who embarks on a drive across France with a colleague of her husband. But although she does a nice job portraying an older woman slowly realising she is worth more than she has, she can’t carry the film alone. Arnaud Viard is sleazy rather than charming as the Frenchman cliché, Jacques, making their rapidly developing relationship less than credible. The film often descends into a travelogue or a second rate documentary on the history, food and scenery of south and central France and really drags on the very slight story. Not worth the price of admission.

The Group, by Mary McCarthy

The Group follows the story of eight Vassar graduates in the 30s, most not really friends but somehow bonded through being ‘grouped’ together in living quarters at college. They all stay in touch after graduating even though many of them don’t actually like each other and they have little in common apart from their shared college experience. More like a series of connected short stories than a novel, the book is nonetheless perfectly structured, beginning with a wedding and ending with a funeral around eight years later. Brutally honest in its depiction of marital and sexual relationships, the tone is somewhat grim as very few of the main characters are likeable or happy. All left college with great expectations of themselves and the world, most of which are disappointed to some degree, largely because they discover that regardless of privilege, ability or enthusiasm as women they will always be second class citizens. The frustrations and ambitions of these women of the 1930s are not so different from those of the 60s, when the novel was published, or of today. It seems the continuing struggle for equality is always two steps forward and one step back. Apart from some obscure language and very local references the writing remains fresh and topical. A classic.

The Cuckoo’s Calling, by Robert Galbraith

JK Rowling’s foray into adult crime fiction is almost as engaging as her Harry Potter books. Private investigator Cormoran Strike overcame his dysfunctional childhood to achieve a successful career in the armed forces as a military police officer. Invalided out, his PI career has not been quite so successful. He is broke and in debt and essentially homeless after the bitter breakup of his long-term relationship. Into his world comes naïve temp Robin and the intriguing case of a celebrity death. Did supermodel Lola Landry jump from her Mayfair balcony or was she pushed? Her brother John has the funds to pay Cormoran to find out. Engaging characters and a fast-paced evocation of inner London help to skate over a plot that runs a little thin at times, as well as some sloppy editing. It is a pity that the denouement goes full Agatha Christie in its groan factor and exposition. Hopefully these elements have been tightened up in subsequent books as this bears all the hallmarks of another successful franchise, with a TV series in the pipeline.

The Edge of Seventeen (2016), directed by Kelly Fremon Craig

Adolescence is difficult enough to navigate, but when you are already an anxious and awkward kid and you lose your Dad – who was your rock – it goes beyond difficult to almost impossible. Nadine’s best friend Krista is the only one who keeps her close to sane, so when Krista hooks up with her despised jock brother Darien, her world collapses. Painful and funny, Hailee Steinfield is outstanding as Nadine, bringing pathos and laughter to the potentially annoying teen and eliciting sympathy despite her sometimes terrible decisions. Woody Harrelson is great as an acerbic but supportive teacher. Kyra Sedgwick struggles to find balance in the unsympathetic character of Nadine’s unstable mother. This small-budget film by a first-time director has a killer soundtrack and a satisfying story arc that delivers an emotional punch.

Abide With Me, by Elizabeth Strout

This profoundly sad tale wallows in its own poetic religiosity, despite making strong points about the hypocrisy of many people who call themselves Christians. Strout once again evokes small town New England, this time in the repressed and 1950s, where double standards, small minds and shrivelled hearts rule. Compassion, kindness and empathy are hard to find in this community, juxtaposed against the saintly Minister who thinks of everyone else first but is almost oblivious to his small daughter’s suffering. It is difficult to understand why the one kindly character, Carol, took so long to step in and offer help to the damaged five-year-old Katherine; the only explanation is plot convenience. While Tyler having a mini-breakdown and coming to himself after a long period of grief is believable, the effect of that breakdown on his congregation is not. Their miraculous transformation into supportive and loving humans fails to redeem their earlier behaviour – the two extremes are hard to swallow.

The Husband’s Secret, by Liane Moriarty

A crime kept secret is accidentally uncovered many years later by the wife of the perpetrator. Should she preserve the horrifying truth to protect her family, or expose it to see justice done? And how does she now relate to this stranger who is her husband. It’s all set in and around the community of a small Catholic primary school in the cosy Sydney suburbs, but religion and morality seem to play no part in anyone’s decisions. There is no Catholic guilt, no confession or penance – just one element that undermines the credibility of this deeply unpleasant story. A strong element of victim blaming taints the narrative. If the girl had made the right choice the boy wouldn’t have snapped and killed her in a moment of madness. The violent reaction to rejection was a one-off apparently and he was a model citizen, husband and father for the next twenty-odd years, so there’s that. Keeping the secret leads to serious injury to one of his children and he knows that’s his fault, so somehow justice has been served. A short epilogue explores sliding doors and what ifs with a conclusion that we just never know what will happen or why, so there’s no point stressing about it, leaving a nasty taste.

The Wanderer, by Meg Howrey

Space travel has been outsourced to the private sector and Prime Space has carefully selected a team of three astronauts for a real time simulation of the first manned mission to Mars. American Helen Kane, Russian Sergei Kuznetsov and Japanese Yoshihiro Tanaka have trained to the nth degree, but the simulation is an extreme test of their training, teamwork, skills and fortitude. If they pass the test, as judged by a team of Prime observers, they get to do it all over again on the real mission to Mars. The story is told from alternating points of view of a large cast – the three astronauts, psychologist observer Luke and three family members – Helen’s adult daughter Mireille, Sergei’s adolescent son Dmitri and Yoshi’s wife Madoka. All have their individual journeys of exploration, which are beautifully contrasted with the tale of pioneering space exploration. The science underpinning the story is convincing without being overwhelming and the intricate examinations of characters, relationships and motivations are fascinating. Astronauts are indeed extraordinary humans and The Wanderer celebrates them without deifying them or ignoring their flaws. Their story is challenging, engaging and deeply satisfying.

Midnight Special (2016), directed by Jeff Nicholls

A small boy, wearing protective goggles and ear muffs, is on the run with two men. Pursuing them are agents of the religious cult he grew up in and increasing numbers of government agencies. The cult leader’s sermons contain secret intelligence and the FBI, NSA etcetera want to know how. The boy, Alton, is special and everyone wants a piece of him, except for a few people trying to protect him and get him to where he needs to be. This bizarre road trip winds up in a very unexpected place and while it’s kind of entertaining getting there, the film gives no clue as to the point of it all. Michael Shannon, Joel Edgerton, Kirsten Dunst and Adam Driver give good performances and the child who plays Alton, Jaedon Lieberher, is convincing despite the general wackiness he is working in. Love, friendship and faith seem to be the driving forces of the film, but just where they are driving it to remains a mystery.

Amy & Isabelle, by Elizabeth Strout

Small town America is beautifully evoked in Strout’s tale of a fraught mother-daughter relationship. Desperate for love, Amy is almost 16, shy and sullen with a burgeoning sexuality, on the cusp of beauty. Repressed and uptight Isabelle is a natural outsider who both loves and resents her daughter, reacting with fear to her painful transition to adulthood. The timeframe moves back and forth over several months of a sweltering summer, for no apparent purpose but to create artificial tension. The result is some confusion about exactly what is happening when. The period is also a little vague; some references place it around the 1970s, but it could be later Sympathy switches between mother and daughter as the story progresses; there are no black and white heroes and villains here. Even the repulsive grooming maths teacher elicits some understanding. The environment and climate are almost extra characters, with lives of their own that contribute to the narrative. In some ways what Amy and Isabelle go through is common to most adolescent rites of passage, but their own particular demons of past and present, secrets and lies, inform the love and loathing of their relationship. Elements of the town of Shirley Falls are hyper-real, which serves to highlight the very real relationships within it.

Captain Fantastic (2016) directed by Matt Ross

In an idyllic and remote rural location, Ben is raising his six kids aged from eight to 18 to be fit, smart, creative and self-sufficient. They are home schooled and have minimal experience of the outside world. It’s an extreme lifestyle and there are some signs of rebellion, which come to a head on a road trip to a family funeral. Mental illness, family conflict, adolescent angst and flying the nest are just a few of the themes explored and most are done well. Viggo Mortenson is wonderful as Ben and all the kids are great, but the youngest girl, Shree Crooks, and the oldest boy, George MacKay, especially stand out. The film is deeply sad, but also celebratory with many questions asked and lessons learned. It has its flaws but is ultimately both moving and enjoyable.

Jean Harley Was Here, by Heather Taylor Johnson

A tragic accident on her way to work leaves Jean Harley in a coma. Apparently based on a real story, Johnson uses poetic language in her examination of the effect of Jean’s illness and death on friends, family and random others. It is refreshing to read a book set in Adelaide, although this does allow locals to nitpick on any incorrect details. The story is told from multiple points of view, which is interesting to a point. The perspective of the man driving the vehicle that hit Jean is fascinating in the aftermath of the accident, but has little impact 11 months later. There is a curious lack of the voice of her closest friends until years later, while inclusion of the perspective of the dog is ludicrous. The story meanders in the second half and seems to be running out of steam as the years drift by, except for the thread following Jean’s husband and son. Fortunately Johnson draws the threads together nicely, in a way that explains some of the earlier digressions, to form a satisfying conclusion.

Peaky Blinders series 3 (ABC)

The softer side and the psycho side of arch gangster Tommy Shelby are both on show in this third incarnation of the post WWI Birmingham crime gang. It is the 1920s and Tommy has married his true love. For her and for the family’s future he is trying to take the business legit but he is again caught between a rock and a hard place. The early 20th century version of the dark state is making demands and threats on one side, with decadent and demanding White Russians adding extra spice. The mishandling of old rivalries is the other problem, sparking a tragedy from which Tommy may not recover. Sister Ada is back in the fold with a potential expansion of the family business to America. Brother Arthur has married a bible basher and finds himself conflicted between work and home. Aunt Polly is determined to enjoy the spoils of success, but she proves to be a hot mess who may just be the agent of Tommy’s downfall. Will family prevail? Cillian Murphy remains mesmerising as Tommy in a brutal and bloody six episodes. In a great ensemble cast there is no doubt he is the star of the show. Thank goodness there will be a season 4.

Zootopia (2016), Disney

Energetic bunny Judy Hopps is determined to overcome prejudice and the concerns of her carrot-farmer parents to become the first rabbit cop in Zootopia. Ambition achieved, she finds herself relegated to parking duties instead of fighting crime and making the world a better place. But someone is abducting mammal predators and Judy enlists the talents of scamming fox Nick Wilde to solve the mystery and bring peace back to Zootopia. The metropolis of Zootopia, where animals live (mostly) in harmony is wonderfully imagined. Ginifer Goodwin and Jason Bateman are just right as Judy and Nick, while Idris Elba makes a great buffalo police chief and Shakira is pop diva Gazelle, who sings the theme song Try Everything. Winner of the 2016 Oscar for best animated film, Zootopia is a colourful and entertaining romp with an exciting crime story and small notes of amusement along the way. It makes nice points about tolerance, inclusion and striving to do your best, even if you make mistakes.

The Fifth Letter, by Nicola Moriarty

Fluid, vivid writing moves this story along at a cracking pace, but no element of the plot is credible, starting with the set-up of the story being told to a priest in the confessional. As with so many books in recent years it needed a damned good edit, which would have picked up and fixed the incoherent timeline and may have sent it back for a rewrite to flesh out the thin characters. But the almighty dollar rules and presumably the publishers thought such a basic investment was unnecessary as the book would sell on name alone, never mind the quality. Heavily manufactured twists and turns do little to disguise who done what and by the end you barely care because it’s all so stupid.

Three Wishes, by Liane Moriarty

It can be problematic looking up the back catalogue of an author at the height of their success – expectations are almost certain to be unrealistically high. Three Wishes was Moriarty’s first published novel and inevitably fails to measure up to Big Little Lies. The bones of success are there and it’s clear that she was always good at depicting relationships, which ring very true, but a rather meandering storyline lacks direction. The story revolves around triplets – uptight perfectionist Lyn, brash rule-breaker Cat and daffy dreamer Gemma. To some extent all three are playing out their assigned roles and are trapped by them, especially Gemma and Lyn, who have secrets they keep from everyone. Short vignettes that give an outside view of the triplets over the years by independent observers punctuate the narrative. This intrusion of other viewpoints doesn’t quite work; it is often unnecessary, and sometimes creepy. It is a strength that Moriarty’s characters are less than perfect, making them more identifiable, but in Three Wishes the flaws are possibly taken a bit too far. While all three sisters engender huge sympathy they are not very likeable, especially Cat.

The Big Sick (2017), directed by Michael Showalter

Billing this film as a comedy sets it up for false expectations. While it is often wryly amusing, the storyline is more sad than funny despite being set in the world of stand-up comedy. It follows the story of how comedian Kumail Nanjiani got together with his wife Emily V Gordon and, as the couple wrote the screenplay, it does ring true, with warmth and humour informing the narrative. Playing himself, Nanjiani does a great job of depicting the difficulty of defying family expectations around career and relationships, especially when that family is Pakistani and Muslim. Zoe Kazan is perfect as Emily, her brand of quirky appeal making her seem just right, despite being in a coma for a good portion of the movie. Among a universally solid supporting cast Holly Hunter and Ray Romano add tragi-comic depth as Emily’s stricken parents, while Bo Burnham and Aidy Bryant help bring to life the world of struggling stand-up comics. So many issues are touched on lightly beneath the overarching story of love, illness and commitment, making this a fully fleshed film with some laughs along the way that is far more than just a comedy.

Frogkisser, by Garth Nix

Princess Anya is a bit over being the responsible sister, but someone has to save the kingdom from the evil sorcerer duke Rikard. Initially setting out to find the ingredients for a lip balm that enables recovery of people transformed into frogs, Anya finds her quest expanding beyond anything she could have imagined in her cosy library in the castle. Along the way she finds help from royal dogs and robbers, wizards, dwarfs and otters and hindrance from sorcerers, witches and weasels. Can she rescue her sister, save the kingdom and transform a growing number of frogs? And will her lips ever recover from all the kissing? In a delightfully fractured fairytale Nix creates a flawed but loveable team of heroes, led by a capable and admirable princess.

Equals (2016), directed by Drake Doremus

An excellent cast faces an uphill battle to achieve a coherent narrative from this slow and beautifully shot sci fi tale. In a futuristic society people are genetically modified to suppress emotions. It is never made entirely clear why, but presumably life runs smoother and more efficiently without them. Coupling and even touching is forbidden; individuals must serve conception duty. Every aspect of life is regulated and controlled; aberrations must be reported. Transgressors are considered diseased and are treated until the inevitable requirement for them to be put down. Suicide is encouraged. The genetic modification appears to be a dismal failure as those pesky emotions keep cropping up and suicides abound. Nicholas Hault and Kristen Stewart make a good fist of the star-crossed couple Silas and Nia, despite having to convey emotions almost entirely via his intense blue eyes and her intense green ones. Guy Pearce and Jacki Weaver provide solid support, but all battle with an inadequate and careless screenplay with giant plot holes. Hault and Stewart manage to make it moving nevertheless, extracting the maximum possible from thin material and looking lovely amid a gorgeous production design.

Hidden Figures (2016), directed by Theodore Melfi

The most remarkable feature of this film is that it is based on true events. For those who haven’t lived it the endemic racism in 1960s Virginia, which permeates every aspect of life, culture and work, is truly shocking. Octavia Spencer, Janelle Monae and Teraji P Henson shine as the three feisty women who overcome barriers of gender and race to play important roles in the NASA space program. Spencer is especially good as the inspiring and resourceful Dorothy Vaughan. Among a strong supporting cast Kirsten Dunst is very good and Mahershala Ali is mesmerising in a small role. The film does a good job of balancing the science and numbers with the human stories. It hits every beat, perhaps a little too precisely and perfectly at times but is genuinely enjoyable and thought-provoking without preaching.

Who’s Afraid? by Maria Lucas

A young woman looks into the mystery of her absent father and discovers she is part of a family of werewolves. It’s not exactly happy families though and Tommi has a tricky path to tread figuring out exactly who she is and what she wants. Lewis has constructed a complex supernatural hierarchy that she is in too much of a hurry to impart. She tells rather than shows and the constant exposition gets very dull. A better edit could have improved this aspect and also picked up some of the poor typos and odd word use. There is some vivid writing, particularly about the change process to werewolf, but an interesting start devolves into a plot that becomes very predictable – budding romance with mentor – tick; girl goes stupidly alone into danger – tick. The pace picks up again towards the end, the action is violent and bloody and Lewis does not shy away from hard choices, providing a more satisfying read and neatly setting up the next book in the series.

The Unmourned, by Meg & Tom Keneally

In this second instalment of the Monsarrat series the ticket-of-leave convict is back in Parramatta, with Hannah Mulrooney installed as his housekeeper. The colony is awaiting arrival of a new governor and Monsarrat has secured a position as clerk to the governor’s secretary. He finds this provides only limited protection from old enemies and not quite enough income for his needs, despite the extra duties assigned that make use of his special skills. These are called on to investigate the murder of Robert Church, superintendent of the Parramatta Female Factory. In this interesting examination of another aspect of early colonial life, history takes precedence over the murder mystery as the Keneallys expose the corruption of the system. Can the two unusual investigators clear the name and save the life of activist convict Grace O’Leary? And can they avoid making more trouble for themselves while they do it? At the end of the tale a third book is flagged, with Monsarrat and Mrs Mulrooney dispatched to investigate a crime in Van Diemen’s Land, as a ‘reward’ for their success.

Only Daughter, by Anna Snoekstra

Homeless, hungry and on the run from her past, a young woman takes advantage of her resemblance to a girl who went missing 11 years ago. She treads a precarious path, feigning amnesia to get by, figuring it’s worth the risk to be safe in a loving family. But Rebecca’s life before she went missing was not exactly a bed of roses, as her imposter starts to discover. An interesting premise is handled well for two-thirds of the book; alternating between the two girls’ stories builds tension and suspense, as more is uncovered about each of them. Rebecca’s tale is particularly involving and the reader’s sympathy is very much with this 16-year-old whose world is falling apart. The backdrop of a sweltering Canberra surrounded by bushfires adds to the fear of her fate. The imposter’s story becomes less successful as it continues and this is eventually the downfall of the book. We never discover her name and don’t learn enough about what led to her situation to excuse or understand her appalling behaviour. Even though she eventually does the right thing the plot holes gape so wide she falls into them and the ludicrous ending leaves a bad taste after such a promising beginning. Use of the American ‘mom’ is irritating in an Australian novel but is explained by the discovery that half of the book is made up of three ‘taster’ stories from the same publisher, by American authors. This is an odd marketing technique that makes Only Daughter appear to be twice as substantial as it actually is and comes across as deceptive.

Etched in Bone, by Anne Bishop

New Anne Bishop novels are long awaited and eagerly consumed. This fifth chapter in the story of the Others focuses on the politics of negotiating a new relationship between humans and the Terra Indigene, following the necessary clearout of radical human first groups. The Lakeside Courtyard provides a unique testing ground that could influence the future of the world, because of its trailblazing culture of tolerance between the species. But the arrival of police officer Montgomery’s brother throws a spanner into the works. Could one bad apple wreck the future of humanity? It has always been clear that Thaisia is an alternate North America, but in this novel the hint is dropped that the setting may actually be the far future, where many large cities have been long depopulated after humans went too far in their destruction of the environment. The glacial pace of the romance between Lakeside leader Simon Wolfgard and prophet Meg Corbyn increases slightly in this outing as her abilities once again put her in extreme danger. The story of the Others may well have concluded with Etched in Bone, which is a little sad, but allows excitement about what new worlds may be created by Ms Bishop.

Clouds of Sils Maria (2015), directed by Olivier Assayas

Stunningly beautiful, complex and intriguing, this play within a film within a play takes a thoughtful look at a woman coming to terms with ageing. Filmed in Germany, Italy and Switzerland, it holds up a mirror to the life and career of successful actress Maria Enders (Juliette Binoche). Twenty years ago she played the part of Sigrid, a young and manipulative woman, on stage and in film. Now she has been asked to play the part of the older woman, Helena, in a revival of the play. As she runs the lines with her competent young assistant, Valentine (Kristen Stewart), she struggles to accept her change in role and the approach of troubled starlet Jo-Ann Ellis as the new Sigrid (Chloe Grace Moretz). Is life imitating art, or art life? And is generational change always inevitable? Echoes of the classic film All About Eve resound in Maria’s relationships with both Val and Jo-Ann. A mystery at the end of the play is also reflected in life, with both the playwright and Valentine. Kristen Stewart was the first American to win a French academy award for her role. Binoche and Moretz are excellent, as is the mostly European supporting cast.

This Beats Perfect, by Rebecca Denton

The ambitions of aspiring singer-songwriter Amelie are crippled by stagefright. Talented musician Max is trapped in declining boy band The Keep. They meet through Amelie’s sound engineer Dad and the stage is set for a musical partnership that could become much more. This rather standard teen romance has an interesting take on the modern music world, with manufactured sounds up against ‘truth’. The author clearly knows her stuff musically, but a decent edit would have remedied some of the jarring technical errors. All in all it is a fun story that moves along at a cracking pace and leaves the reader wanting to know what happens next.

Lisette’s Paris Notebook, by Catherine Bateson

On a gap year after finishing school, Lisette travels to Paris to spend three months soaking up the city’s art. She is fulfilling her mother’s dreams rather than her own, but just a few weeks in Paris sees her finding her own feet and making her own decisions. The story has some interesting and quirky elements, including a focus on fashion as art. The lived experience of Paris is convincing, unfortunately the characters and emotions not so much as both lack depth. This is not helped by the sloppiness of the editing and proofreading, which has left several names of key characters wrong. Such sloppiness is becoming more common in modern publishing and is both intensely annoying and likely to get even worse as standards drop and those making the money don’t care.

Wonder Woman (2017), directed by Patty Jenkins

There are a lot of things to like about the long-awaited film incarnation of Wonder Woman. Gal Gadot is just right as Diana, bringing a refreshing naïveity to the super hero role; the island of the Amazons is a delight; and Chris Pine makes an attractive Steve Trevor. Unfortunately the sum is ultimately less than its parts as the film is too long and drags in parts. It looks beautiful, with the colour palette a key to this. In supporting roles Lucy Davis as Trevor’s secretary and Robin Wright as an Amazon warrior are highlights. But the dialogue is clunky and there are continuity glitches and plot holes that grate as the film is just not sufficiently entertaining to suspend disbelief. The moments of humour are few and far between but provide blessed relief from what is essentially a rather grim war story.

The Musketeers series 3 (BBC)

Another series another arch villain, this time Rupert Everett plays the King’s illegitimate brother Feron. Governor of Paris, head of the Red Guard and crippled junkie, he has an endless supply of evil henchmen to combat our intrepid musketeers, but an even more evil puppetmaster, Grimaud, is found to be pulling his strings. The musketeers have been away at the war with Spain for four years and in their absence Paris has gone to the dogs of the Red Guard. Very dark in tone, with less humour than the first two series, the signs of an incipient revolution are ever present, stirred up by war refugees, corruption and power plays. Strong women are again to the fore - D’Artagnan’s wife Constance has become a de facto musketeer, Queen Anne is battling for her son’s future and a new feisty girl, Sylvie, takes Athos’s fancy. Even Milady makes an appearance. The fights and explosions are bigger and bangier than ever, with the musketeers escaping beatings, stabbings and burning buildings with barely a scratch. The final episode makes it clear the series has come to a close, with all loose ends tied up neatly and satisfactorily.

American Gods, by Neil Gaiman

Ex con Shadow gets caught up in a Civil war between the old Gods of tradition and mythology and the new Gods of technology and innovation. Shell-shocked by the sudden death of his wife, Shadow is taken under the wing of Odin, now known as Mr Wednesday, on a road trip around small-town America. Dealing with Gods fallen low and Gods pushing their way up, Shadow’s dreams become increasingly disturbing. He is targeted by the slick and dangerous opposition and finds threats on all sides. Shadow is the universal traveller, seeking truths internally and externally - a modern day Odysseus, operating at the whim of the Gods, except there is no Penelope waiting for him and good guys are few and far between. In fact his late wife is a rather disturbing presence amid all the mayhem. Seeking and sacrifice are recurrent themes, while mythologies of ancient and modern cultures add breadth and depth to this rather bleak and violent tale, which has recently been made into a television series reputedly breaking records for being out there.

The Soldier’s Curse, by Meg & Tom Keneally

Set in Colonial-era Port Macquarie, this mystery story pulls no punches on the brutality of convict life. The scholarship is admirable, if somewhat overdone, exposition and historical detail tend to overwhelm characters and plot in the early chapters. Gradually they fight their way through to create an increasingly interesting tale of crime and redemption. Tall and intelligent, Hugh Monsarrat is resentful that his station in life restricts him from rising to his abilities in a London law firm. Ambition outstrips common sense and he finds himself transported to the other side of the world. In Parramatta a rush of blood to a place other than the head sees him throw away his ticket of leave and wind up in the northern penal settlement for second offenders. Serving as a clerk for the moderate governor, Monsarrat makes friends and enemies among the soldiery. When the governor’s wife comes down with a mystery illness he must use all his skills to get to the bottom of it to keep his friends safe and foil his enemies.

Tell the Truth Shame the Devil, by Melina Marchetta

At first the overly complicated storyline reads more like a script for a BBC mini series than a teen novel. The main teen character Violette is seen more in her absence from the point of view of others, which is an interesting device but she comes across as hyper-real. In fact it is aspires to be more than a teen novel, with most of the action surrounding Chief Inspector Bish Ortley, using the well-worn trope of disaffected/at risk cop battling the system. There are so many plot elements thrown in and some are tied together quite loosely with some large holes and some cultural disconnect undermining credibility. Terrorism, multiculturalism and racism, media sensationalism, incipient alcoholism – the ism themes abound. Chuck in teen sex and coming out, family separation, prison, overcoming grief, divorce, competing police forces and intelligence services and coerced confession and you get a mish-mash that threatens to run out of control. Marchetta largely pulls it all together in a fast paced and entertaining read that manages to make some important points amid all the action.

Pop Star (2016), directed by Akiva Schaffer & Jorma Taccone

Comedian Andy Samberg’s mockumentary collaboration with his good mates Schaffer and Taccone is hit and miss. It’s biggest problem is that times have changed a lot since Spinal Tap and it can’t go extreme enough to send up its targets – many of them really are that ridiculous all the time. The best parts are the celebrity cameos – Pink, Mariah Carey, Fifty Cent, Usher, Ringo Starr, Seal and many more are very funny. Samberg is good as Conner4Real, former boy band member gone solo, embarking on the difficult second album. The songs are clever and shocking and Samberg can actually sing, but the dialogue is lame and largely unfunny. A few standout scenes such as Proposes With Wolves are amusing. Well-aimed shots at Justin Beiber, U2 and Kanye West, among many others, hit the mark but are not enough to sustain a whole film.

Big Little Lies, by Liane Moriarty

Someone has been killed at the annual school trivia night after an all-out brawl erupted among warring factions of parents. We don’t find out the identity of the victim until the end of the book, but on the way there we find out about the factions and what led to the war. Feisty Madeline is the heart and soul of the whitebread beachside community of Pirrawee. Loyal and outspoken, she sometimes gets it very wrong. Young single mum Jane is a newcomer with an awful secret in her past, which is made easy for the reader to guess. Beautiful Celeste has the seemingly perfect life – a lovely home, wealthy and attentive husband and twin boys, but she is living a lie. These three unlikely friends support each other through a tricky six months of personal challenges and school politics leading up to the death. A Greek chorus of other parents provide insight and misinformation about the situation leading up to the tragedy. It is no surprise to find out who died, but the identity of the person who caused the death is something of a shock twist, which nevertheless makes sense. A social study more than a murder mystery, the novel features engaging characters with breadth and depth. Its short, sharp chapters make for an easy read that is hard to put down. It has been made into a mini-series starring Reese Witherspoon, Shailene Woodley and Nicole Kidman, which is reported to be a good adaptation despite its transportation to America.

The Terranauts, by TC Boyle

A privately funded science experiment plans for teams of eight ‘terranauts’ to spend two years in a glass domed Ecosphere, living self-sufficiently as if colonising another planet. The second group of terranauts is determined to weather any crises and surpass group one, who repeatedly broke the sacred seal of the airlock to obtain outside help. The story is told from three different perspectives, two insiders and one jealous outsider. A slow start is not helped by some confusion as to who is who, with a plethora of interchangeable names and nicknames for no discernable reason. The timeframe is also unclear at first – later it is said to be the late 20th century, which belatedly explains the lack of technology. It gradually builds to a more compelling narrative as the tensions and triumphs of eight people living under glass – and the media spotlight - are explored. It holds echoes of the worst kind of reality TV – exploitation under the guise of environmentalism – Survivor meets Big Brother, only no-one gets voted off. The most interesting character, if the least likeable, is outsider Linda – who is both best friend and betrayer with a high degree of self-delusion. In one moment of clarity she describes the program as a cult, which is the only logical explanation for what these fanatics sign up for and allow themselves to be subjected to. Apparently based on a similar real-life experiment, it is possible that truth is stranger than fiction, but the ludicrous closing chapters collapse all suspension of disbelief and it’s just good to be done with these stupid people.

Fight Like a Girl, by Clementine Ford

Funny, frank and fearless, Fight Like a Girl deserves the awards and accolades it has received. Sexuality, abortion, mental illness, masturbation, feminism – Ford uses anecdotes from her life to demonstrate what it means to fight like a girl and why it is so important to do so. She addresses everything from casual sexism and everyday misogyny to rape culture. Her essential message is that it is ok to be angry and to fight back; in fact it is essential to do so to achieve change. The writing is clear and vivid and although the themes are a little repetitive, it is because the author is a passionate advocate for women standing up for themselves and each other. It is an astonishingly easy read for such a serious subject. Ford is a strong woman with the courage of her convictions. In Fight Like A Girl she encourages other women to take strength and not accept their lot as second class citizens in a world shaped by and for men.

Girls season 5 (HBO)

The familiar funny/painful story arcs continue in this fifth season as the girls hit their mid-twenties and shit starts to get serious. All four appear to be getting their acts together, but appearances can be deceptive. Marnie elects to take the ultimate in dysfunctional relationships to the next level of dysfunction and marries Desi. Hannah has abandoned writing for her unique take on teaching and has accidentally found herself living with the terminally nice Fran. Jessa has finally found her passion and plans to become a therapist, but another passion could finally de-rail her relationship with Hannah. Shoshanna has discovered Utopia in Japan, but living a fantasy isn’t always what you expect. Adam, Elijah and Ray provide support and provocation in equal measure. Constantly making terrible decisions, these privileged white New Yorkers are eminently slappable but ultimately loveable. By the end of the series all four girls have circled back to something like their true selves, but are they doomed to keep repeating their mistakes?

A Confusion of Princes, by Garth Nix

Nix once again demonstrates his versatility by entering the genre of science fiction. The empire takes millions of selected babies from their parents, genetically enhances them and raises them in cold privilege as princes of the empire with the potential to one day become emperor. They must constantly compete against each other, with assistance from priests and assassins, and almost anything goes. If the imperial mind deems them worthy they can be reborn to continue the brutal fight for ascendency, if not they are cannon fodder to the imperial machine. The story centres on Prince Khemri, who believes he is destined for greatness. He receives extra assistance in his struggle from the imperial mind that tends to bear out his beliefs. His climb is diverted by a special mission, which sees him learn how much he doesn’t know about the empire. A Confusion of Princes is an apt title as Nix’s empire is a confusing place with a plethora of technical detail sometimes crowding out the exciting plot. A bonus short story set in the same universe adds value to the whole.

Their Finest (2017), directed by Lone Scherfig

London in 1940, blitz bombing is wreaking havoc on the city and the Information Ministry is keen to make films that will keep up spirits. With so many men in the forces opportunities open up for women and young secretary Catrin Cole finds herself in a scriptwriting job, although she can’t be paid as much as the chaps of course. She is recruited to add the woman’s touch to a propaganda film that must also aim to persuade the Americans to join the war. It is Gemma Arterton’s film and she is just right as the wide-eyed Catrin. The chemistry is there with Sam Claflin as cynical senior scriptwriter Buckley. A quite serious and moving story is punctuated with lighter moments throughout, largely supplied by Bill Nighy as a rather precious actor. A host of familiar faces feature in very strong supporting roles, particularly Rachael Stirling. It makes some nicely understated points about the role of women and the reality of life on the home front in a city under siege. The score is occasionally overdone, but the songs are lovely and the colour palette exquisitely depicts wartime London in this clever and appealing film within a film.

Crossbones (NBC)

Edward Teach, the infamous pirate Blackbeard, has set up a ‘republic’ on the island of Santa Campagna. Naval surgeon and spy Tom Lowe has been sent to assassinate the dread pirate and recover the longitudinal device that will cement British control of the high seas. Suitably Machiavellian as Blackbeard, Jon Malkovich has an odd accent but is otherwise convincing as the complex pirate king with a very dark past and seemingly utopian dreams of the future. Richard Coyle is an interesting choice as Lowe and he complements Malkovich. Claire Foy is excellent as usual but does not have enough to do as Lowe's love interest Kate Balfour. Former Neighbours couple David Hoflin and Natalie Blair are among the entertaining supporting cast. Plot improbabilities abound but are largely swept away by the bloodthirsty action and the gorgeous tropical setting in the early episodes. The twists and turns become increasingly ridiculous as the series progresses and it becomes a blood-drenched Pirates of the Caribbean by the conclusion. The ludicrous ending leaves an opening for a sequel, but it is not surprising that none has yet materialised.

Rumours, by Freya North

It is a relief to find a return to form for North in Rumours. Not that it quite has the sparkling wit and magic of old, but there is a warmth and depth to this tale that has been missing in her last few books. Art historian and single mum Stella Hutton has turned to real estate to recover her finances after her disastrous marriage ends in divorce. Selling the local manor house could make her fortune but an awful lot of locals will be put out, especially eligible bachelor Xander. Sexy and entertaining with appealing and delightfully appalling characters, occasionally silly plot points such as a stray Rembrandt do not detract from a romp of a read.

Lost Lake, by Sarah Addison Allen

Food, family and a sense of a fairy tale are the hallmarks of Sarah Addison Allen’s work. Lost Lake adds grief and ghosts to the mix in a tale of widowhood and beyond. The Morris women tend to get lost in love and can’t recover from its aftermath. A year after her husband’s death Kate suddenly snaps back to reality and realises she has lost control of everything that matters in her life. Reconnecting with her great aunt at the dilapidated holiday resort of Lost Lake helps Kate realise she can choose her fate and that of her daughter. In the process ghosts are laid to rest, alligators are soothed and futures are settled. The destination is usually fairly clear early on in Allen’s books, but the journey always has a few interesting twists and turns and it is very enjoyable getting there.

Jessica Jones series 1 (Netflix)

Set in the same Marvel universe as the Avengers, SHIELD and Agent Carter, Jessica Jones is an ultra noir look at people with enhanced abilities coping on the mean streets of New York. A private investigator with superhuman strength, Jessica Jones avoids relationships and relies on alcohol in retreat from a dark past. Those unfamiliar with the graphic novel won’t have a problem with the slow and initially limited reveal of Jessica’s past – what is important is the present and future of a woman with deep flaws. In a clever subversion of tropes such as the troubled PI and the married shark lawyer having an affair with the secretary, it is refreshing to see women at the forefront of the action. Krysten Ritter inhabits the body and soul of Jessica and Rachael Taylor is the perfect foil as best friend Trish, who has a dark past of her own. David Tennant provides an almost comic edge as psychopathic villain Kilgrave. Mike Colter is smoking hot as Luke Cage, Jessica’s sometime adversary, sometime love interest, who now has a series of his own. The bloody body count rises to Midsomer proportions as the series progresses. Sexy, smart, violent and very dark, the show includes occasional bursts of wry humour. Towards the end there are hints of a shady organisation behind some of the enhanced abilities, which sows the seeds for a second series, apparently in the works.

Barking Dogs, by Rebekah Clarkson

This is not a novel but a series of short stories told from the differing points of view of various inhabitants of Mount Barker, a small town in the Adelaide Hills that is gradually being absorbed into the suburbs. The stories are linked by location but also by a sense of dislocation common to inhabitants of a town undergoing massive change. The overall tone is of profound sadness with an undertow of violence. This apparently is modern life - bullying, cancer, widowhood, intergenerational misunderstanding, neighbourhood disputes and loss, loss, loss. Some stories are written in first person, some in second and some in third, a technique that could be annoying but here adds to the necessary variations in tone and voice to make the narrative interesting. A decidedly different book makes for an interesting, if not always comfortable read.

First Frost, by Sarah Addison Allen

The rather strange Waverley family of Bascom, North Carolina made their initial appearance in Garden Spells, the author’s first foray into fantastical romance fiction. Ten years later the Waverleys and their town are revisited in First Frost. As ever the focus is on food and its magical properties, but the story also delves into the burden of family expectations and the importance of a sense of place. Fifteen-year-old Bay’s special Waverley gift is knowing where things and people belong. She knows she belongs with Josh Matteson, but everyone in Bascom knows that Waverleys and Mattesons don’t mix. A mysterious visitor to Bascom seems to have information that could disrupt and undermine caterer Claire’s gift, but it is possible she has been doing that for herself with her self-doubt. Everything usually goes a bit crazy for Waverleys in the lead-up to the first frost of the year, which this year coincides with Halloween. Can the family hold things together until the cold arrives?

When We Rise (ABC)

Cataloguing the struggle for gay rights over more than 40 years, When We rise is based on the memoir of activist Cleve Jones. Starting in early 1970s San Francisco, the series charts the ups and downs of the movement from the points of view of gays and lesbians from all walks of life. It puts flesh on the bones of historical events such as the election and assassination of Harvey Milk, the advent of AIDS, and the fight for equal marriage. Promiscuity, drug abuse and political infighting are not glossed over in an epic tale of discrimination, violence and gut-wrenching loss. Mary Louise Parker and Rachel Griffiths make a smooth transition from the actresses playing the younger versions of Roma Guy and Diane Jones. Guy Pearce and Michael K Williams are less convincing as the older Cleve Jones and Ken Jones, (It’s an odd fact that three of the four key players are unrelated Joneses) partly because the looks don’t quite translate but also probably because the younger actors were so outstandingly good. The cast of thousands boast many familiar faces in mostly small roles, bring to life the real heroes and villains of the struggle. Occasionally didactic, especially in the courtroom-heavy final part, always unashamedly partisan, When We Rise is moving and inspiring television that highlights the cause of human rights.

Gaudy Night, by Dorothy L Sayers

Published in 1935, Gaudy Night is a novel very much of its time, with some obscure language, class consciousness and assumed knowledge that is well and truly out of date. Nevertheless its central issue is timeless; the struggle for women’s equality and independence. It is somewhat depressing to realise how little progress has actually been made in 80-odd years. Ostensibly a detective story, the mystery takes second place to the developing relationship between writer Harriet Vane and detective Lord Peter Wimsey, ‘will she-won’t she?’ taking precedence over ‘whodunit?’. Ultimately the resolution of the romance is more satisfying than that of the crime, with more questions than answers remaining, including one of justice. It is difficult to imagine that Ms Sayers would have tolerated the number of typos that appear in this work, so yet again it must be noted the lamentable state of modern publishing with regard to proofreading and editing. Feminist credentials notwithstanding the novel serves as a rather extended ode to Oxford with too many (dull) quotations demonstrating the scholarship of the writer and the likely ignorance of the reader.

Guardians of the Galaxy (2017), directed by James Gunn

The second instalment of the most fun of the Marvel franchise features the gang gaining in fame throughout the Universe as guns for hire. Unfortunately their latest employer, the mightily superior Sovereign are mightily pissed off when Rocket can’t keep his mouth shut nor his thieving hands to himself. Rescue is at hand from a strange being called Ego, who claims to be the Star Lord’s long lost father and whisks him off to his distant planet for some bonding. Meanwhile Yondu has been ostracised by the Ravagers for breaking their code and faces a crew mutiny for being too soft Elizabeth Debicki makes a stunning golden high priestess of the Sovereign; there are some cracking cameos from the likes of Sylvester Stallone and Stan Lee; and there is an interesting potential new guardian in empath Mantis, played by Pom Klementieff. The trials and joys of bringing up baby Groot punctuate the action, while sisters Nebula and Gamora reach some understanding in a film that is all about family and how sometimes you make your own. The only question being would you rather Kurt Russell or David Hasselhoff was your Dad? This is rollicking good action with plenty of laughs and the essential, delightfully cheesy soundtrack from the 70s and 80s.

Goodwood, by Holly Throsby

Two people go missing from a small country town a week apart. The disappearances of 18 year-old Rosie and salt of the earth butcher Bart unravel the fabric of Goodwood and ugly truths begin to surface. Told from the point of view of 17-year-old Jean and set in 1992, the tone is quirky and light despite the dark material. The novel has a strong sense of place and a reasonably strong sense of time. The characters of the town are brought to life, although there are possibly rather too many minor ones, who have little impact on the main tale, to keep track of. The story loses credibility when it increasingly switches to action Jean didn’t personally witness. Throsby clearly couldn’t find a way to provide necessary crucial plot detail without losing Jean’s voice and it damages the structure of the novel – either use first person or don’t, but be clear about it. The story of Jean’s emerging sexuality is an interesting counterpoint to the mystery, but its climax makes for an odd conclusion to a sad tale.

The Peach Keeper, by Sarah Addison Allen

A quirky small town in North Carolina; flawed or troubled characters with a challenge to face or a journey to make; a touch of magic in the air to move the plot along; these are the standard ingredients in a Sarah Addison Allen novel. She somehow always manages to mix up a delicious and enjoyable dish, full of interesting people whose fates you care about. Her writing is very sensual, the smell of coffee, the sound of the wind, the chill of snow, the beauty of trees are deeply felt. The peach keeper has a nice circular motion, with historical events influencing the present and four people who were at high school together discovering that relationships can change if you want them to. When secrets of the past are literally dug up in the eco-tourist town of Walls of Water, loner Willa and eternally busy Paxton must rediscover the friendship their grandmothers had to solve a mystery and move forward with their lives. The joker, the stick, the princess and the freak find they can break old stereotypes, find their true selves and be open to love.

Secret City (Showcase), directed by Emma Freeman

Murder, conspiracy and political shenanigans abound in a tale where it’s almost impossible to tell the heroes from the villains, except for our intrepid reporter of course. Anna Torv is wonderful as political journalist Harriet Dunkley, who writes for the Daily Nation and has a complicated love life. The very strong support cast includes Dan Wyllie, Jacki Weaver, Alex Dimitriades and Damon Herriman in a most unusual role. Sex, lies and videotape underpin innumerable twists and turns as spies and counter spies impact on Australia’s relationship with the US and China. Political and journalistic rivalries are cleverly depicted and Canberra makes a fascinating backdrop, although the very large number of secret meeting places around Lake Burley Griffin seems a little unlikely. This is a rare case where the film, or in fact the six-episode series, is so very much better than the book. The stupid names, insider jokes and constant exposition have been cut to create a taut and suspenseful thriller that occasionally challenges the suspension of disbelief but is ultimately satisfying.

Clariel, by Garth Nix

Delving into the history of Nix's Old Kingdom, Clariel takes place centuries before Abhorsen, Sabriel and Lirael. It fills in some gaps about the working of free magic and charter magic and warns of the dangers of complacency among Abhorsen, Royalty and The Clayr. Bravery and tragedy are required to restore balance to the world and events trigger a challenge for Lirael to meet far into the future. Nix’s assured grasp of his strange other world makes it believable and absorbing, its flawed but heroic characters facing ethical dilemmas and tests of courage. Does the walker choose the path, or the path the walker? Clariel’s path is long, difficult and dangerous, for herself and for the Old Kingdom.

Take This Waltz (2011), directed by Sarah Polley

Michelle Williams is Margot, married to man-child Lou, played by Seth Rogan in serious mode. She adores his family and they her. They have fun together, laughing and playing pranks, and they throw great parties, but their sex drives are not in sync and after five years of marriage he won’t even discuss having children. So Margot is ripe to fall hard for Daniel, a charming and free-spirited neighbour. But is passion enough to sustain a relationship and is it worth giving up family and friendship for? A complex and quirky relationship drama that doesn’t pretend to have the answers, it has a few unlikely plot points and a rather flat ending. It’s refreshing that it is set in Canada. Sarah Silverman is striking as Lou’s alcoholic sister but the film belongs to Michelle Williams, who embodies Polley’s heroine.

Desire for Chocolate, by Care Santos

Something must have been lost in translation of this award-winning Spanish novel. A white porcelain chocolate pot that acts as an incidental character and the setting of Barcelona links three separate stories of women in different eras. The first story, set in modern times, tells of a love triangle between traditional chocolatier Sara, innovative chocolatier Oriel and food chemist Max. Neither of the male characters is credible and while Sara is more so she is not likeable. The chocolate pot’s only purpose is as a rather clumsy metaphor for their relationship, shattered and painstakingly put back together with some hope for future utility. Set in the late 19th century, the second story is for some reason written entirely in the second person, an annoying and sometimes confusing conceit. Opera dominates this tale of an orphaned servant girl who makes good late in life. The chocolate pot once again serves as a rather obscure metaphor – redemption? Forgiveness? The letter format severely limits the third story of a French delegation to Barcelona in the 18th century and the chocolate pot’s purpose in this story is a complete mystery. The convoluted plot involves French spies, including a hermaphrodite, thuggish English soldiers and the murky start of the Barcelona guild of chocolatiers. While it introduces an interesting method of looking at the history of Barcelona and its chocolatiers, the novel is let down by its expository style and its uninteresting characters.

Final Impact, by John Birmingham

The third instalment of the alt history of WWII sees events take a sharp turn from the impact of the 21st century ‘uptimers’ with the roles of Japan, Germany and the Soviet Union changing considerably in 1944. Stalin, Hitler, Eisenhower, even John F Kennedy find they are on different paths with the very early advent of modern technology wreaking havoc. Everyone has one eye on a post-war future, with the uptimers determined to carve out a space that suits modern values. The old bugbear of sloppy proofreading raises its ugly head again in this book. Authors of strong and high-selling novels really deserve much better from reputable publishers. Birmingham has the ability to make the reader care about even minor characters, on all sides of the conflict, which can be distressing when he kills them off. Fortunately he doesn’t kill off as many favourites as George RR Martin. He has written a trilogy of novellas set in the 50s as a follow-up, examining espionage in the cold war, where readers can discover just how alternative history becomes and what happens to some of the major characters.

The Girl Who Chased the Moon, by Sarah Addison Allen

Allen weaves her usual brand of magic in this small town tale of love and family lost and found. After her mother’s death in a car crash Emily moves to the southern barbecue town of Mullaby to live with her previously unknown grandfather. Here she must unravel the mystery of her mother’s former life and bring the town’s secrets out into the moonlight. Along the way she befriends her mother’s former enemies, who have some secrets of their own to unearth, and finds a bright and shining future for herself. The fantastical sits comfortably amid the everyday, with mood-influencing wallpaper and baking skills mixing up their own magic. Some darker story elements add depth and conviction to a suite of appealing characters, preventing what could have been a spiral into sickly sweetness. Challenging traditions, finding forgiveness, savouring food and drink – all contribute to a recipe for a good read.

Whiplash (2014), directed by Damien Chazelle

How far is too far when pushing for excellence? Whiplash poses the question but doesn’t really answer it. Aspiring jazz drummer Andrew has no friends and no family tradition of music but possesses a drive to be the best he can be. Initial success at Uni inspires him to ask out the girl he has had his eye on for a while; continued success makes him sabotage the relationship for fear it will interfere with his focus on future success. Miles Teller is compelling as Andrew and JK Simmons won an Oscar for his portrayal of the monster who won’t apologise for driving his students no matter the cost. It’s difficult to understand the dedication of the jazz drummer, because who actually cares and what are the rewards? This makes it even more difficult to understand why the students are so cowed before the monster tutor and the drummers in particular don’t shove a drumstick through his eyeball. The only possible parallels are with an Olympic athlete in an obscure sport who is driven to succeed regardless of the rewards or lack thereof. But you have to question the dedication to an empty cause and the validation of methods that border on torture – if that is really what it takes to achieve greatness – fuck it!

Keep Calm and Carry a Big Drink, by Kim Gruenenfelder

A sequel to There’s Cake in My Future (AKA Wedding Fever), this novel lacks the zip and zing of its predecessor. Using the same cake pull charm motif gets a bit tired the second time around and the plot clunks in several places. We get to experience Seema and Scott’s catastrophic Anglo-Indian wedding and the birth of Nic’s child but it is essentially Mel’s story. The sole remaining single girl must take some risks to find her true self, get over her dark dating past and find true love. Along the way there is sex, laughter, friendship and lots of alcohol. Reading more like a Maui travelogue than a novel towards the end, it does inspire a desire to visit to Hawaii, but hopefully it sees the end of the cake charm tales.

The Raven King, by Maggie Stiefvater

Pages 379 to 410 of this 438 page book were missing, which detracted significantly from enjoyment of the conclusion. Instead pages 347 to 378 were repeated, upside down; quality publishing there from Scholastic. Book four of the Raven Cycle sees a conclusion in the quest to find Glendower and a resolution of the complicated relationships between Blue Sargent and the Aglionby boys – Gansey, Ronan and Adam. Stiefvater combines dark and twisty fantasy with believable and appealing main characters. You care about their dilemmas and thwarted desires, more so than the rather convoluted plot lines, which get extremely complicated at times; you could definitely not get your head around this book without reading the first three. Unfortunately, with 30 pages missing towards the end it is impossible to judge how well the threads are joined together in a satisfying finale.

Manchester By the Sea (2016) directed by Kenneth Lonergan

A study in grief and the different ways people deal with it, or not, Manchester By the Sea is a slow, quiet film, beautifully shot. Casey Affleck owns the part of Lee, a withdrawn Boston handyman who has no life and rejects any kind of social interaction. Outwardly calm and indifferent, it becomes clear he has a deep well of anger that can erupt into violence. The death of his brother draws him back to the small coastal town of Manchester to care for his 16-year-old nephew. Flashbacks show a happy-go-lucky Lee who adores his family, but drinks too much and has asshole tendencies that are mostly kept in check. He is close to his older brother, who has similar characteristics. Then we see the tragedy that has removed all joy from his life. In the present day Lee is forced into the interactions and relationships he shuns and, for his nephew’s sake, he manages to grow a little to accommodate what needs to be done. The nephew is a chip off the old block and badly needs guidance that Lee cannot supply. An encounter with his ex-wife demonstrates that while a shattered vessel may be mended it will always have cracks and will likely never again be fully functional. Landscape and the sea are important aspects, representing the beauty and pleasure Lee cannot allow himself. The score is unsubtle to the point of intrusive, detracting from an otherwise effective film that is sad, beautiful and bitingly real, with very strong performances.

Secrets, by Freya North

Life must have turned a bit sour for bestselling author Freya North. Her earlier books were joyous and enjoyable relationship comedies, with a touch of magic to them. Later books have become darker, with more complex issues affecting their protagonists’ love lives. The putative lovers of Secrets are hard to like. Both have had difficult childhoods, which affect their adult relationships but don’t excuse their obnoxious behaviour and callous treatment of others. Falling in love miraculously turns them both into nicer people who tell each other the utter truth and they are able to overcome their dark pasts to build a rosy future together. There is some carelessness in the plotting that creates loose timelines – probably deliberately vague to hold the suspense of the ‘secrets’, but nonetheless annoying and never satisfactorily resolved. Lack of decent, basic, consistent editing has become a persistent beef on this blog. Publishers’ cost cutting, cowardice or both are a crime against readers for which there is no excuse.

Goldenhand, by Garth Nix

The fifth visit to the Old Kingdom sees Abhorsen-in-waiting Lirael growing into her powers. The first half of the story alternates between Lirael tentatively discovering her soul mate and the journey of Firin, a messenger from the north with difficult news for Lirael, Sabriel and the Clayr. Once again they must risk everything to do battle with death. Nix creates a well-realised world of competing magics – the orderly and structured Charter magic and the wild free magic. The two magics somehow come together in the person of Nicholas Sayre, which will prove important to Lirael in many ways. An edge of darkness pervades the story, with necromancers and monstrous creatures manipulating innocents and wreaking havoc. Who could fail to enjoy visiting a world where women take the lead but men are equal and librarians are champions?

Stet: An Editor’s Life, by Diana Athill

A memoir of professional life, Stet provides a fascinating insight into the British publishing industry from immediately after WWII to the 1980s. Athill worked with many prominent 20th century authors, including Phillip Roth, Jean Rhys, John Updike and VS Naipaul, as an editor and as a director of independent publishing house Andre Deutsch Ltd. She touches lightly on the times and on personal issues, but concentrates on the working environment and associated personalities, focusing in particular on half a dozen authors she knew particularly well. Her pen portraits of these writers – some very well known, others not so much – are funny and insightful. The book is marred by the occasional grammatical error which seems very odd in an editor, but everyone makes mistakes and perhaps her own editor was too intimidated to make corrections! She saw enormous changes in the publishing industry and at the time this memoir was published, 2000, was still optimistic about its future despite a decline in editorial standards. She is still going strong and will turn 100 in 2017. It would be interesting to read her thoughts on developments in digital publishing and its impact on the industry.

The Musketeers Series 1 & 2 (BBC)

Based loosely on the Dumas novel, this series starts with a clunk rather than a bang with some dodgy dialogue and clumsy set-up. It warms up after the first few episodes and starts to match the lively theme music. The casting is interesting – Peter Capaldi is far more suited to play the scheming Robespierre than Dr Who, so it is a pity he opted for the latter after the first series. Luke Pasqualino gets his shirt off rather a lot, which enhances his smouldering performance as D’Artagnan. The individual backstories of the main three Musketeers are nicely explored and used to develop depth to the overarching storyline of 17th century French royal political intrigue. Ladies’ man Aramis, troubled leader Athos and slumdog made good Porthos grow in appeal throughout and there is something satisfying about men in leather brandishing swords. The costumes and staging are meticulous and beautiful, adding a layer of authenticity to proceedings. The exquisite backdrop of the Czech Republic is a convincing stand-in for Paris and its surrounds. Series two takes on a rather wild west vibe alongside the Parisian political intrigue, with the superhero musketeers winning through the shoot-ups and sword fights with barely a scratch. Marc Warren creates a nicely evil villain in Rochefort, but the second series is notable for its strong women characters. Queen Anne, Constance and Milady are all given room to grow and develop and they are joined by some interesting minor players. The music is wonderful, supporting but never overwhelming the narrative.

Designated Targets, by John Birmingham

Late 1942 and the arrival of the multinational fleet from the 21st century is having a huge impact on the world. Knowledge of the future inevitably affects the present and therefore creates an alternate future. Thus Japan actually invades Australia and Germany actually invades Britain - will new technology mean the invasions succeed, changing the outcome of WWII? A bit of fun with naming characters goes too far in this sequel to Weapons of Choice. Honouring Australian author-mates such as Kirsty Brooks and Amanda Lohrey is one thing, having Asterix Creators Goscinny and Underzo as French naval commanders is a bit much. Slight jarring notes are caused by the novel being overtaken by events predicted wrongly – few could have foreseen Trump becoming president rather than Hillary Clinton, but it was surely not too big a stretch to imagine King William having children that would have displaced Harry as heir. These may seem minor quibbles, but they are distractions in an otherwise gripping and absorbing tale. The culture clash between the values of the 1940s and the 2020s provides huge interest, personally, socially, politically and militarily, not just on the macro levels of gender and race, but with everyday interactions to do with sex, violence, money and even smoking. The book needed better proofing as there are more than a few typos – a sloppiness that lets the story down. As ever Birmingham seemingly effortlessly balances the human story with the relentless gadgetry in a tale that leaves readers wanting to know what happens next.

The Captive Prince, by CS Pacat

Obviously influenced by dark fantasy writers such as Anne Bishop, CS Pacat lacks her ability to create a fully formed alternate world. She fails to set the stage or build characters to care about before plunging into an orgy (literally) of violence that verges on torture porn. There is plenty of action but no-one to cheer for. The political intrigue is often nonsensical. The captive prince himself is not especially likeable or appealing, but most of the other characters are so revolting that he is all there is. Women are on the periphery, which at least means they are not the victims of the perverted violence for a change, but it leaves a picture of a society that is curiously unbalanced. There are a few female slaves and courtiers, with no real role in the story, but no princesses, queens, wives or female soldiers or powerbrokers of any kind. The geography is unimaginative; the character list is unnecessary; and a number of invented words are inserted into the narrative, to mysterious purpose. This is apparently the first book in a trilogy – don’t expect to read reviews of the next two on this blog.

Chances, by Freya North

Freya North’s early novels were fresh and zesty, with a healthy dose of quirky thrown in. Funny, sexy and ultimately romantic, her heroines were appealing and her heroes attractive; a tiny element of magic realism added something a little different to the chick lit genre. Later novels took on a slightly darker edge, with some difficult dilemmas thrown in and boy and girl not always ending up where you thought they would. Chances, her eleventh outing reads a little tired and by the numbers. North has always teetered on the edge of didactic, notably in her Tour De France-themed novel Cat, and here she topples over it. Facts and figures about trees and wood are shoehorned into the narrative – she did the arboriculture research and she is bloody well going to use it. Hero and heroine are too good to be true and the regret of the ex is just not credible to any degree. Nothing of the outcome is left to imagination or speculation, a strength of earlier stories. It could have used a bit more work and a tighter edit on some unnecessary repetition. That said, Chances is a pleasant enough tale of recovery from heartbreak, whose most appealing character is the pear tree in the back yard.

Olive Kitteridge, directed by Lisa Cholodenko

A portrait of an ordinarily dysfunctional marriage in small-town Maine over 25 years rings depressingly true. Pharmacist Henry and teacher Olive are not well matched. She is tough and practical with no filter on her harsh tongue. Even though she means well and does care for people, she doesn’t suffer fools gladly and often lacks sympathy, affection and compassion. He is easy-going to a fault, a kind and sweet man with little drive and too much sentimentality. There is love and even passion, between them, but they constantly disappoint each other, both seeking their emotional (him) and intellectual (her) needs elsewhere. Their son Christopher is a product of his environment and seems doomed to repeat their mistakes. Frances McDormand is sublime as Olive, a woman who doesn’t realise the negative impact she has on others, especially on those closest to her. The love and care she lavishes on her husband comes too late and there is no redeeming her relationship with her son. Nevertheless, with life there is hope. This is TV for grownups.

Reading Lolita in Tehran, by Azar Nafisi

This rather provocative title is actually perfectly accurate. The author is a professor of literature who has written a book on Nabokov and ran a book club for her female students who wanted to read classic novels banned in Iran in the 1990s. It is difficult to understand the seemingly blind complicity of Iran’s population with the totalitarian takeover of their country by a radical Islamic regime. Nafisi’s memoir explains how relatively easy it was to divide and conquer in a classic case of, “if you tolerate this, then your children will be next.” Non-religious opponents of the Shah, leftists and moderate Islamists found themselves sidelined, demonised and persecuted as the Ayatollahs gained strength. Women had it the worst as their country was taken back to the dark ages and they had to conform or leave if they didn’t want to die. In this the book holds useful lessons for today, with neo-fascists employing similar tactics, in various parts of the world,to divide and conquer their opponents. As much a book of literary criticism as a memoir, it is most interesting when it draws parallels between heroines of literature and the author’s students who resist the regime. Apart from encouraging these students by starting the forbidden book club Nafisi retreated from the regime rather than defying it; probably a sensible choice given the potential consequences. She was fortunate enough to have the means to eventually escape to the US after persuading her husband to waive his privilege. Most of her students eventually followed her lead in leaving Iran. This book was published in 2003, when the Islamic Republic had started to ease up, although life was still restricted and dangerous for its opponents. It would be interesting to read a more recent analysis of the state of affairs and the impact of a loss of generation of writers and artists on culture and society.

Wedding Fever, by Kim Gruenenfelder

Told from the alternating points of view of three close friends, Wedding Fever delves into modern relationship dilemmas with warmth and wit. Nicole is blissfully in love and is about to get married, but is she really ready to be a stepmother? Seema is in love with her best friend, but hesitates to tell him and potentially wreck the friendship. Melissa has spent six years with a man who won’t commit – should she persist or cut her losses? The tale takes lots of twists and turns for before the women wind up just where they are meant to be. At times the three lead characters seem just a little too good to be true, but then they usually do something realistically petty or stupid to bring things back to reality. This is chick lit with style and substance.