The Power Game, by Meg & Tom Kenneally

Ticket-of-leave convict Monsarrat and his intrepid housekeeper Mrs Mulrooney have been sent to solve a murder on the remote penal settlement on Maria Island, Tasmania. It seems a very long way to travel for such a purpose in the 1820s, but the accused is a political prisoner, Irish rebel aristocrat Tom Power. Mrs Mulrooney rather takes the lead in this investigation, her employer ceding to her superior skills and intelligence in a somewhat unlikely power shift. This does allow more light to be shed on the position of women in the colonies and on the fine distinctions of class that pervade all aspects of colonial life. The history is interesting but too much is shoehorned in to demonstrate the authors’ knowledge rather than to serve the plot, especially regarding the Irish troubles. We just don’t need to know that level of detail, particularly as the authors’ acknowledge in an end note that they have taken some liberties with the truth. The tale needed better editing, with some sloppiness and a few minor inconsistencies let through. Nevertheless it is a good read and a welcome addition to the Australian historical crime genre. The end once again presages the next mystery to be solved, this time back on home soil in Sydney.

Mama Mia – Here We Go Again (2018), directed by Ol Parker

Most of Abba’s big hits were used in the first film so minor hits and album tracks are more prominent in the sequel, but this actually serves the story better. Set several years after Mama Mia, it is coming up to the anniversary of Donna’s death. Her daughter Sophie has realised Donna’s dream of transforming the Greek island farmhouse into a hotel and is planning the grand opening, but everything is going wrong. Meanwhile we are taken back to Donna’s graduation and the story of her travels to Greece and how she met Sophie’s potential fathers. The casting of the younger versions of the main characters is great, with all of them recognisable and believable, but Lily Cole as Donna is outstanding and she sounds just like Agneta. This film is much better than the first at disguising the non-singers; Amanda Seyfried shoulders most of the musical burden and does it well. Slight but enjoyable, the plot and timeline don’t bear examination and the film could do with a few more laughs. It lifts at the very end with a poignant mother-daughter duet and a joyous whole cast finale, to go out on a high note.

The French Girl, by Lexie Elliot

Ten years ago, six English University students were celebrating graduation at a holiday home in France that belonged to the family of one of them. Around the time they left for home, the young French woman who lived next door disappeared. It was a mystery never solved. Now her body has been found on the holiday property and the French police are once again questioning the former students. Recruitment lawyer Kate is shocked by the discovery of the French girl’s body and uncomfortable with the way it has drawn the group of friends – and ‘frenemies’ – back together. As the investigation only raises more questions about the group and their behaviour on the holiday, Kate finds herself haunted by the dead girl and increasingly doubtful about who did what and when. Suspense is maintained throughout this taught and largely enjoyable tale of love, jealousy, betrayal and murder. Elliot gets a little too enamoured of one particular romantic-sounding metaphor towards the end, but this is a minor quibble about what is a satisfying story.

Little Gods, by Jenny Ackland

Oh what a tediously long time this novel takes to achieve nothing in particular. It has pretentions to something significant by its use of elliptical prose that frustrates rather than intrigues. It is difficult to fix the time – is it set in the 50s, 60s, 70s? It’s not until a fair way in to the story that some cultural references make it clear we are in the early 80s. This is presumably deliberate but it’s not clear what this vagueness is intended to do. After a very slow start the story builds a creepy tension to what is essentially a horror story. The main character, 12-year-old Olive, is not entirely credible. She has a precociousness combined with pre-teen naivety, which is a possible hallmark of an only child, but her stubborn refusal to see the obvious doesn’t quite compute. Appalling family dysfunction, mental illness and intergenerational damage don’t make for a cheery tale and a huge leap forward at the end seems unnecessary.

Ant Man & The Wasp (2018), directed by Peyton Reed

Ant Man was missing from the last Avengers ensemble movie, Infinity Wars, and now we find it was because he has been under house arrest for two years, following his exploits in Germany with Captain America. Three days before the ankle bracelet is to come off, his freedom is put in jeopardy by the reintroduction into his life of The Wasp. She needs his help to retrieve her mother, lost in another dimension for 30 years. What follows is an amusing caper, with Ant Man trying to evade and outwit the FBI; a very shady businessman and his evil henchmen; and a mysterious, suited assailant. There is plenty of action, not over the top; a few laughs, perhaps not quite enough; and a bit of science, possibly too much. Paul Rudd’s appealing persona carries the film; Evangeline Lilly is fine as The Wasp; there is a nice cameo from Michelle Pfeiffer; and an entertaining supporting cast. A much smaller film than the usual Marvel epics, Ant Man & The Wasp is a bit on the sentimental side and certainly no Black Panther, but it’s all harmless fun.

Succubus Shadows & Succubus Revealed, by Richelle Mead

In the fifth book it seems the Succubus series is running out of steam as yet another rival succubus comes to town to threaten Georgina Kincaid, who is subsequently kidnapped – again. The validity of Georgina’s contract with hell is once again brought into question, but she seems no closer to getting those questions answered. Her relationship with author Seth reaches a new level and the stage is set for a final novel that will tie up all the loose ends and resolve the clues scattered through all the books so far. Hopefully Mead can pull it together is a satisfying way. In the final book Georgina and Seth are back together, with a somewhat uneasy compromise on sex. No longer working at the bookshop, apparently the only job the succubus can get is as a Santa’s helper at a mall. Suddenly Hell gives notice that Georgina will be transferred to a new post, which seems to promise her everything she has ever wanted – except Seth. Her housemate Roman is suspicious and, with help from angel Carter, decides to investigate Hell’s nefarious purposes. The story takes a slightly unexpected turn from the previous all-action to become a courtroom drama that will decide Georgina’s fate. Unfortunately this leads to a rather anticlimactic ending; a case of succubus deflated rather than revealed.

The three of Us, by Kim Lock

It is made clear from early on that this book will deal with the topic of polygamy. Thomas has a terminal illness and doesn’t know how to tell his wives of 50 years. He has been referred to a psychologist for help with this and so the story unfolds. Unfortunately what could be an interesting tale is undermined by a lack of credibility in almost every element. Over exposition and clunky dialogue make it tedious. The voice of Thomas, in particular, does not ring true but the whole story reads more as propaganda for plural relationships rather than a genuine story. The few interesting aspects include the setting of Gawler - a small country town on the outskirts of Adelaide - and insights into Australia past, such as the marriage bar. But these are not examined in any detail or developed with the story as a whole. There is little drama or conflict within the central relationship or the extended family. All the angst is external.There is hardly any individual jealousy or conflict within the threesome. Children and grandchildren are totally accepting – even those who live overseas and therefore have had limited contact with the strange relationship. The only source of pain is the necessity for secrecy and the lack of public recognition available to them. The surprise twist at the end is the least credible story element of all, leaving a sweetly saccharine finish that could not come soon enough.