Everything, Everywhere, All at Once (2022), directed by Daniel Kwan and Daniel Scheinert

Evelyn is a frazzled Chinese-American woman, running a laundromat business, who is also dealing with an impending divorce, daddy issues, a difficult relationship with her daughter and an audit by the tax department. To add to her burdens she is contacted by an alternate version of her husband from a parallel universe for help combatting a threat to the multiverse. She must access the skills and experience of all her alternate selves to save the day, her marriage, her daughter and her business. This colourful action-packed film is completely bananas and thoroughly entertaining. It makes the most of the incomparable Michelle Yeoh, who is ably supported by Stephanie Hsu, Ke Huy Quan and Jamie Lee Curtis. It must have been great fun for the actors, who get to play multiple versions of their characters. The extreme violence is executed in comic-book fashion and is mitigated by its absurdist elements and the ultimate message of love and kindness conquering all. At times, especially early on, it is hard to know what an earth is going on in this film, but it really is all there in the title.

Desperate Undertaking, by Lindsay Davies

Hot on the heels of her Saturnalia adventure, Flavia Albia continues her frenetic pace as an informer in ancient Rome - a private investigator solving crimes the authorities would rather ignore or cover up. In this case a series of particularly gruesome staged murders link back to her parents’ early adventures in Syria. It’s always good to read about Falco, even if his appearance is off-stage. As has been the case in the last few books about Flavia Albia, this story gets bogged down in excessive description of Roman geography, history and architecture. This contrasts with earlier books, especially in the Falco series, which give fascinating insights into various aspects of Roman society that sit lightly beneath the story. It's a pity, because Albia is a great character with an interesting life. Her stories would be more entertaining if the character interactions were fleshed out more than the streetscape.

She Said (2022), directed by Maria Schrader

In 2016-17 New York Times investigative reporters Megan Twohey and Jodi Kantor uncovered decades of sexual abuse and bullying by powerful Hollywood producer Harvey Weinstein. They also exposed the toxic system of cover-up and silencing by his company Miramax and the wider film industry, that enabled him to get away with it for so long. Carey Mulligan and Zoe Kazan are credible as the dedicated journalists, who persisted despite threats and stonewalling and the fear of victims who can’t or won’t go on the record. The supporting cast includes Patricia Clarkson and Andre Braugher as their supportive bosses and Jennifer Ehle, Samantha Morton and Ashley Judd, playing herself, as the brave women who came forward with evidence. Their work contributed to Weinstein’s jailing, as well as exposure and amendment of the egregious system of Non-Disclosure Agreements. This is a solid film that tells an important story of an element of the Me Too movement and of a rare case of accountability and justice in this arena.

Exiles, by Jane Harper

The mother of a six-week-old baby, Kim Gillespie disappeared on opening night of a food festival in South Australia’s wine country. Presumed drowned in a nearby reservoir, her body was never recovered. Australian Federal Police officer Aaron Falk was there at the time for a christening, but couldn’t help solve the mystery. Returning a year later for the long-postponed christening Aaron finds himself drawn into a close-knit group of family and friends, who may be hiding some deep dark secrets. This third and final outing of Aaron Falk has a very different regional setting from the previous two, which obscures rather than underpins the central mystery. The story of the investigation is interspersed with substantial flashbacks that illuminate Falk’s involvement with the story and its protagonists. A satisfying whodunnit, there is rather too much detailed exposition after the killer is revealed. An unlikely fairytale ending comes with resolution of a subplot mystery that has been well-telegraphed, making it a little anticlimactic. It is nevertheless a satisfying farewell to Falk and it will be interesting to see if it makes a trilogy of films as well as books.

The Golden Enclaves

The last student to escape the Scholomance graduation bloodbath, El is back in Wales with her mum, desperately trying to extract Orion from the consequences of his foolish heroics. Wallowing in failure and heartbreak, El then discovers that her parents were responsible for summoning the Golden Stone sutras that can help to build clean Enclaves of safety for wizards. In doing this, they unwittingly cursed their unborn child – her. But despite El and her friends having lured most of the world’s mals to their doom, something is attacking Enclaves. El is also determined to return to the Scholomance to put Orion out of his misery and along the way discovers that his parents are responsible for his fate. Can she overcome the powers ranged against her and find a way to heal and redeem something from the debacle wrought by maleficent magic? She has to travel far and wide for the answer to that and to solve the mystery of the black heart of the Enclaves and the reality of her destiny. This final lesson of the Scholomance goes to some surprising places and poses some interesting moral dilemmas for El and her allies. Turns out that good versus evil is rarely a black and white issue. This is complex dark fantasy, with satisfyingly imperfect characters and motivations.

Black Panther: Wakanda Forever! (2022), directed by Ryan Coogler

Wakanda is in mourning following the death of its King, T’Challa, and its future is in limbo. With the heart herb destroyed there is no way to anoint a new Black Panther and the nation is under siege for its Vibranium. Suddenly a new threat emerges, with another source of the precious resource discovered. The undersea God-Kingdom of Talocan wants Wakanda as an ally against the surface world to protect their mutual interests. Princess Shuri must choose between revenge and redemption to determine Wakanda’s future path. This is very much a female-led film, which makes for more interesting action sequences. It contains a moving tribute to the late Chadwick Boseman that fits perfectly within the story. Letitia Wright, Lupita Nyong’o and Angela Bassett are solid performers and there are fun cameos from the likes of Michaela Cole and Julia Louis-Dreyfus. As ever with Marvel films it is too long, with some story inconsistencies skated over by the action. But it is entertaining, with unexpected depths it its exploration of grief on both an individual and national level.

Lies Sleeping, by Ben Aaronovitch

Now a detective, Peter Grant is a key member of the task force trying to thwart the twisted ambitions of Martin Chorley, aka the Faceless Man. The action is all centred around St Paul’s, in the heart of the City of London, with Chorley trying to harness the power of an ancient vengeful spirit. Can Peter persuade former colleague Lesley to repudiate her allegiance to the dark side and help defeat it, or will she double down? The Met has finally thrown substantial resources at the Folly – magic HQ, but all that Peter loves is at risk and it will take all of his alliances to overcome this most formidable adversary. The fight takes even more of a toll than usual, but there is promise for the future too, both personally and professionally.

League of Dragons, by Naomi Novik

The final instalment of the Temeraire versus Napoleon saga sees hungry, freezing and exhausted aviators and dragons pursuing the French tyrant in his retreat from Russia. Napoleon may have lost the battle, but the war is far from over and he has big plans. This includes a spot of egg-napping, which leads Lawrence and Temeraire into captivity. History nerds will know the eventual outcome, so the interest lies in the journey there and how it is altered by the presence of dragons. In truth the social and political reforms achieved by the dragons during this period is unbelievably rapid, but make for a nice conclusion. The prospect of Temeraire MP is delightful, but it is difficult to fathom Westminster accommodating dragons – physically or socially.

Enola Holmes 2 (2022), directed by Harry Bradbeer

After her success with the Tewkesbury case, Sherlock’s little sister has set herself up in business as a private detective. Unfortunately Victorian England affords little respect for independent young women and she is about to shut up shop when a case of a missing match girl comes her way. This lands her in the middle of a murky commercial and political conspiracy, already under investigation by big brother, and sees her charged with murder. It takes all her ingenuity and not a little help from family and friends to solve the case and save the day. Breaking the fourth wall can be annoying, especially in a period piece, but Millie Bobby Brown is a delight as Enola and she pulls it off. Henry Cavill and Helena Bonham Carter reprise their roles as Enola’s detective brother and suffragette mother, contributing to another thoroughly entertaining take on the Holmes legend. A Netflix success.

Digging up Dirt, by Pamela Hart

A researcher with ABC Kids, Poppy McGowan is in the midst of renovating her inner city Sydney worker’s cottage when a contractor finds bones under the floorboards. Reno stalled by an archaeological dig, overseen by Poppy’s arch enemy, she soon finds herself in a nightmare of murder and political intrigue, all complicated by her attraction to the victim’s boyfriend. An enormous suspension of disbelief is required to get past the unlikely police operating procedures and ABC journalistic practices that allow Poppy to become an instant investigative reporter and amateur detective. But it’s all good fun, with some interesting family dynamics thrown in to round out the story.

The Furthest Station, by Ben Aaronovitch

The seventh book in the Rivers of London series is a super short one, more of a novella or a longish short story than a novel. It takes us back to the London Underground, with a series of ghostly encounters reported on the Metropolitan Line. Constable Peter Grant and his teen cousin Abigail must get to the bottom of magical messages that could lead to solving a non-magical crime. No sign of the faceless man or erstwhile colleague Lesley in this brief tale, but the scene is set for Abigail to be properly apprenticed to the magical unit of the Metropolitan Police.

The Trip to Greece (2020), directed by Michael Winterbottom

In the final instalment of their foodie odyssey, Rob Brydon and Steve Coogan enjoy a couple of Greek islands and some mainland tourist experiences. The premise is that they are following in the footsteps of Odysseus, but this is not really an epic journey. Although they have thankfully moved on from the Michael Caine impressions, the repartee and ribbing still falls a little flat – same old, same old. There is less focus on the food this time, although there are some of the usual kitchen shots and ultra-professional waitstaff. The gorgeous scenery is a feature, but it manages to avoid masquerading as a Greek tourism commercial. The fictional element of the Trip is the strongest in this last outing, with a poignant throughline of love and loss, involving Steve’s father and son and Rob’s wife. It’s a fitting end to the trips, fortunately completed pre-COVID, during which we could now only dream of such indulgence.

The Hanging Tree, by Ben Aaronovitch

Formidable river goddess Lady Tyburn’s daughter is caught up in the drug-related death of a fellow rich kid and Constable Peter grant owes her a favour. Of course the crime turns out to have a supernatural element so Peter is drawn in on two fronts, with the associated search for a powerful stolen magical text. A lot of other magical practitioners also want the book, leading to a multiple magical tussle. The tale see the return of Lesley May, face restored, and her boss the Faceless Man, whose connection to the case is unexpected. The Rivers of London universe is expanding to reveal all sorts of new creatures and practitioners, some of whom make dubious allies to Peter Grant and his colleagues. It is always a joy to see Peter blending standard policing techniques with magical innovations to solve the crime. This book takes him a step closer to defeating the Faceless Man as his abilities and networks expand.

Spellbreaker, by Charlie M Holmberg

Elsie is assistant to a stonemason and also a secret spellbreaker in a Victorian England where magic rules, rather than science and technology. An orphan with abandonment issues, Elsie has contributed her talents for many years to a secret organisation she believes is dedicated to freeing up magic for the poor and oppressed. When she is caught on a secret mission by aspiring magic master Bacchus Kelsey, he obtains her help in return for not turning her in to the authorities. There is a lot going on in this very complicated story, which gets bogged down in too much exposition and florid description. The plot relies on unlikely coincidences and the wilful ignorance of its otherwise intelligent protagonist. Its resolution reads as though made up on the fly. This has the bones of a good tale, with some interesting characters, but needed at least one more draft and a damn good edit to make it work.

All the Murmuring Bones, by AG Slattard

Miren is the last of O’Malleys, a formerly rich and dominant family that attained its status with an unholy bargain with the mer people. They have not kept the bargain for several generations and have fallen on hard times, but Merin’s grandmother plans to restore their fortunes through Merin’s marriage to her cousin. This sends Merin on a quest for her true history and her independence. Good and moral people are few and far between in this dark tale full of witches, selkies, shape shifters and water horses. It’s a strange world, reminiscent of 18th century Ireland and filled with creatures from folk tales, but with some interesting quirks. Merin’s courage and determination sees her fight for her freedom, drawing on a murky salt water heritage heritage for the tools she needs to survive, but ultimately demonstrating that decency can win.

Don’t Worry Darling (2022), directed by Olivia Wilde

Alice and Jack are living a life of married bliss in the experimental desert town of Victory, where the men go off to work each day and the wives keep house. The loved up couple is in permanent honeymoon mode and it’s all cocktails by the pool and everyone knows their place in the 1950s-style paradise. But Alice gets flashbacks, glimpses of memories and dreams that don’t quite match the idyll and there is a feeling of something off. It’s not ok to ask questions about what the men are actually working on and a sinister doctor is on hand to help keep the wives toeing the company line. Visually stunning, the film has plot elements that don’t quite hang together but the pace and suspense are sufficient to quickly skate on past any doubts. Harry Styles was clearly hired to play Jack for his pulling power, as his acting is adequate at best. However Florence Pugh is compelling as Alice and the film would be nothing without her. Mad Men and the Stepford Wives meet the Handmaid’s Tale in what is ultimately a horror story for our times.

Blood of Tyrants, by Naomi Novik

Separated from his dragon and his colleagues by a shipwreck, Captain William Laurence has washed ashore in hostile Japan. His injuries include amnesia – he has lost most of the past eight years, including all memory of Temeraire and their service with the Air Corps. Rejoining his colleagues and continuing their mission to China puts into question the bond between aviator and dragon, which must be slowly rebuilt as Laurence’s memories gradually return. The pair eventually find themselves in Russia, once again fighting Napoleon and his grand ambition. Novik skilfully weaves her fighting dragons in and around real historical events and battles. The politics and social world of Russian dragons is similar to that of serfs and nobles, with similar consequences. This penultimate book of the series ends rather abruptly, with our heroes once again under threat. One can only assume they will finish up back in England to end the saga in the final book.

No Hard Feelings, by Genevieve Novak

With a strapline of Hungover, underpaid and overwhelmed this book could be mistaken for non-fiction. But it is actually just a description of Penny’s life. Stuck in job she dislikes, hankering for a relationship with a man who is just not that into her, Penny’s lack of self-worth undermines everything she does. Her self-destructive and self-sabotaging behaviour is infuriating, but all too recognisable. It is hard not to feel some sympathy for the mental health struggles of a 20-something waiting for her life to improve. It’s such a shame that so many smart, attractive and capable (mostly) women allow themselves to be treated so poorly. Novak does a good job of showing how and why this happens to so many. Her tone is light and sharply funny but the underlying theme has depth and darkness, providing a satisfying whole. She uses realistic shades of grey to depict best friends and the awful boss, although the supportive housemate is possibly a little too good to be true. The book could have probably done without quite so much intricate detail of inner Melbourne geography as well as the snide sideswipes of other cities and suburbs. Penny does actually take action to improve matters and, with the help of friends and family, makes some changes that offer hope for a better future, without suggesting there is a magic bullet cure for what ails her.

See How They Run (2022), directed by Tom George

Agatha Christie’s The Mousetrap is celebrating its 100th performance in the West End and is about to be made into a film by an obnoxious Hollywood director. When he is found dead the case is investigated by a world-weary Scotland Yard inspector with an enthusiastic WPC as his offsider. The twisty plot involves Christie herself and sends up both the author and the play’s star, Richard Attenborough. The film is funny and suspenseful, with lots of sly in-jokes, paying homage to Christie’s oeuvre with tongue firmly in cheek. Amid a stellar cast, including Adrien Brody, Sam Rockwell, Ruth Wilson and Shirley Henderson, Saoirse Ronan shines brightest as the rookie copper, Constable Stalker. Set in 1950s London, it all looks beautiful and along the way makes a few gentle points about appropriating true crime stories for fictional entertainment.

A History of Dreams, by Jane Rawson

The story begins in the late 1930s with a pair of schoolgirls on a train being harassed by a group of young men. It is a scene as believable, relevant and infuriating as at any time in the eight ensuing decades, right up to the present day – so little has essentially changed in gender dynamics. The sisters, Maggie and Esther, are rescued by their feminist friend Audrey, a communist and a witch with the power to change dreams. Their academic ambitions thwarted by conservative and restrictive parents, the girls train with Audrey and their unconventional friend Phyl to work against the patriarchy. But in the shadows of WWII a rising tide of fascism in quiet little Adelaide threatens to overshadow their small gains and kill all their dreams. The delight of free spirited young women bucking the system turns to chilling despair in this depiction of Australia as a precursor to Atwood’s Gilead. The handmaids of the resistance and their allies similarly face torture, imprisonment and degradation by the fascist regime, with seemingly small chance of a revolution. Despite its grim trajectory, the novel’s message is don’t take any gains for granted, retain hope and never give up the fight for a better world. Although it may be back-breakingly tiring, women’s work really is never done and the fight for equality will never end.

Bravely, by Maggie Stiefvater

Princess Merida has returned to the kingdom of Dun Broch after a year of travel to find everything is just the same. She loves her home and her family but they also make her restless and unsatisfied. In a case of be careful what you wish for, Merida finds herself caught between two gods and a warlord, with a year to enact change or face ruin from one direction or another. Can she forge alliances with other kingdoms and at the same time prod her parents and her triplet brothers out of their comfort zones? And how will the quest change her? A follow-up to the story of the Pixar film Brave, Stiefvater cleverly picks up the threads of the original story and its humour to create a mix of history, folk tale and fairy story. It makes for a different kind of coming-of-age story, as Merida learns a lot about her family, her country and finally herself. As in the original film, Merida is an appealing and relatable heroine and it will be interesting to see if Disney takes this story up as a sequel.

Hacks (HBO Max)

A veteran comedian is about to lose her Las Vegas residency and so her agent hooks her up with a 25-year-old comedy writer, who has been cancelled, in a bid to revive both their careers. Deborah Vance lives in a palatial mansion and has an extensive staff; Ava has to take this job to avoid losing her recently purchased, overpriced LA condo. The two have little in common and clash at every turn, until they don’t. Each is intensely unlikeable in their own special ways – initially fulfilling the stereotypes of out-of-touch Boomer and entitled Millennial. As the series develops their rough edges rub off as we find out more about them, their back stories and their redeeming qualities. Slowly a relationship of trust builds as they learn from each other and make each other laugh. We also get a taste of the evolution of women in comedy and a glimpse of the challenges that have barely changed. It’s funny, smart, moving and so refreshing to see a show featuring two strong female leads as well as a diverse cast whose diversity is incidental to the plot. Jean Smart is simply wonderful as the irascible Deborah and Hannah Einbinder provides a great foil as Ava. A second season is out now; it will be interesting to see if it can sustain the excellence.

A Solitary Walk on the Moon, by Hilde Hinton

Evelyn runs a laundrette, with precision and attention to detail. She also pays attention to her customers and neighbours, going above and beyond to help them out, whether they want it or not. Observant and judgemental, Evelyn is something of a chameleon. She adapts her behaviour and language to remain largely unobtrusive to those around her, which allows her to overstep and get away with it. It soon becomes clear that Evelyn has a habit of reinventing herself; leaving her past behind to start fresh. When she intervenes in the lives of a troubled woman and her eight-year-old son there is a chance to change this pattern and build a rag-tag family – but can she take it? Although there are no supernatural elements in this tale, the writing holds a touch of magic. Evelyn operates as a kind of ephemeral fairy godmother, solving problems and making connections in her community to improve everyone’s lives. This includes her own, but there is a residual sadness as it seems she is unable to resolve her own issues and enjoy the benefits of her labours.

Brunswick Street Blues, by Sally Bothroyd

Brick Brown (yes really) is working in the PR department of an inner city Melbourne council (despite having no qualifications or experience). She aims to find out who is behind the endless series of complaints about her uncle Baz’s dive jazz bar in Fitzroy. When her investigations turn up the sleazy mayor’s decaying body in the archives, she reports it via an anonymous message on her boss’s phone. Then the body and her uncle both go missing. What follows is a fast-paced and sometimes confused mishmash of political corruption, underworld heavies, dodgy developers, media rivalry and determinedly colourful characters who make very questionable decisions. Set in 2007, the novel has a vibe more of the 1990s. Its depiction of a council PR department is ridiculous, but not in an amusing way. The wry tone takes too many cheap shots at easy targets. This seems to be intended as a romp in the vein of Janet Evanovich’s Stephanie Plum books, but it falls short on every level.

The Lost Daughter (2021), directed by Maggie Gyllenhall

A professor of Comparative Literature, Leda is holidaying alone in a quiet Greek coastal resort. Her idyllic break is marred by a series of disturbing events, at first small but soon escalating, which trigger flashbacks of her life as a young wife and mother and aspiring academic. Her troubling interactions with various members of a large and disruptive Greek-American family showcase all Leda’s qualities and faults and may end up threatening her life. Maggie Gyllenhall wrote and directed this thoughtful film that focuses on the push and pull of motherhood. Olivia Colman brings her usual charm and skill to the older Leda, while Jessie Buckley is luminous as the younger version., Dakota Johnson plays a strong hand as Nina, the young mother Leda identifies with and both helps and undermines. Sympathies ebb and flow for this very real character, whose story lingers long after the film ends.

Love Marriage, by Monica Ali

Apart from being junior doctors in the National Health Service Joe and Yasmin appear to have little in common. But they are engaged and it’s time for their families to come together. Outspoken, wealthy, dominating, body positive, Joe’s mother Harriet always seems to get what she wants. Yasmin is embarrassed about her uptight GP father and traditional religious mother. She can’t wait for she and Joe to get their own place and escape their parents. But Joe has a secret that could bring them undone. Yasmin’s brother Arif also has a secret that could shatter their family. As their worlds unravel Yasmin learns there are shades of grey in everyone, including herself. She will have to get to the bottom of the love marriage between her wildly mismatched parents to work out if she can achieve a love marriage of her own. Ali has a clever way of making the reader simultaneously sympathise with and despise her characters. Short, sharp chapters switch between their various points of view, exposing their strengths and weaknesses and carrying their complex stories lightly over the almost 500 pages. Every relationship is dysfunctional. No-one is honest about who they really are and what they really want. But openness and therapy are the cure for many ills and may help Yasmin and Joe come to terms with their cultural and emotional misconceptions to find a happy ending.

Foxglove Summer, by Ben Aaronovitch

Constable Peter Grant has been sent out of London to the Welsh border, ostensibly to follow up a magical lead but also for a change of scene, following the devastating betrayal by colleague Lesley May. But the countryside turns out to be not so peaceful as two young girls have gone missing and Peter stays to lend a hand. He soon discovers a magical element to the disappearance and is seconded to the taskforce searching for them. He has the assistance and consolation of river goddess Beverley Brook, as well as local copper Dominic Croft. In amongst dealing with the Fae, changelings and aggressive invisible unicorns, Peter has to deal with texts from Lesley, treading a fine line between the personal and professional. The danger is in the woods at night. Will this city boy be able to navigate the tricky trees and make it back to London? It’s good to see Peter’ character develop as this series continues. He is growing up and showing just why he is a cop – and a trainee wizard.

Juniper (2022), directed by Matthew Saville

Sent to boarding school by his grieving father, teenage Sam has been lost since the death of his mother. Suspended following a violent incident on the rugby field, Sam is contemplating suicide. His attention is diverted by the arrival of his estranged alcoholic grandmother, former war photographer Ruth, from England. She has broken her leg and needs care, but her spiky personality makes everyone’s life difficult, especially her nurse Sarah. When his Dad goes to England to sort out Ruth’s affairs, Sam is left to reluctantly help Sarah care for his grandmother. Slowly Sam and Ruth build a bond, which may help them both come to terms with life and death. This strange little New Zealand film has some profound things to say about love, grief, and family relationships. There is a sense that it is an autobiographical piece by the writer/director, as it is a period piece – 80s or 90s, judging by the technology or lack thereof. Charlotte Rampling is fabulous as the independent, take-no-prisoners Ruth. The chemistry with newcomer George Ferrier, as Sam, carries the film. Martin Csokas doesn’t have enough to do in the rather thankless role of son and father. Sometimes slow, occasionally clunky and disconnected, the film is nevertheless moving and the rural NZ setting is beautiful.

The Murder Rule, by Dervla McTiernan

Law student Hannah Rokeby transfers university from Maine to Virginia to join the Innocence Project, defending prisoners apparently wrongly convicted. She has a hidden agenda, with an interest in a particular case linked to her mother’s troubled history. But is her alcoholic mother a reliable witness and will Hannah have to re-evaluate her quest for vengeance? This tale is quite a departure from McTiernan’s Irish detective trilogy, although equally dark. It lacks the authenticity of the earlier books, straining credulity at every turn. Timing, characters, motivation, procedure – nothing quite adds up, despite some convenient later justifications.

Crowbones, by Anne Bishop

Back in the world of the Others, in the small lakeside tourist town of Sproing, Vicki DeVine – the Reader - continues to act as a bridge between the Terra Indigene and human populations. The delicate balance of relations between the species is threatened by a malicious prankster on this world’s equivalent of Halloween. But there are much darker forces at work here, with both humans and Others manipulated to cause maximum trouble as some kind of experiment proceeds and a truly terrifying hunter is sent to clean out the rot. Vicki DeVine and her alliance of humans, shapeshifters, vampires and elementals must work together to protect the town and the future of interspecies cooperation. They risk being caught between the evil that threatens and the wild retribution that could ensue. Anne Bishop’s fantastic worlds are completely immersive and this one, a recognisable alternate of our own, contains striking parallels and warnings about the dangers of messing with the natural world. Hopefully she is not yet finished with its colourful characters.

Good Luck to You Leo Grande (2022), directed by Sophie Hyde

Nancy Stokes is a 50-something widow who has only ever had sex with her husband and never enjoyed it. A former Religious Education teacher who has always lived within the rules, she takes a walk on the wild side by hiring sex worker Leo and a hotel room to try all the things she has never experienced. What follows is an education for all concerned in sex positivity, body positivity, consent and boundaries, letting go and owning desire. Emma Thompson literally embodies the role of Nancy, taking her from buttoned up to naked and fancy free. Along the way are revelations about marriage and motherhood, judgement and disappointment, acceptance and respect. Leo and Nancy learn from each other over the course of their short liaison, both leaving satisfied. Something about Daryl McCormack’s eyes and mouth is reminiscent of a young Jonathan Rhys Myers. He makes Leo a fully rounded character and is very nice to look at in what is essentially a two-hander, although Isabella Laughland provides a useful comic cameo towards the end. While the film leans a touch towards the didactic, it is all in a very good cause, with a funny and poignant take on a rarely touched topic.

Intimacies, by Katie Kitamura

An Asian-American interpreter has been living in The Hague for several months, on contract with the International Court. She has always moved around so much, from childhood onwards, that nowhere feels like home. With a new relationship and the prospect of a permanent job, there is a chance of a real future on offer. But is it the future she wants? We never learn the name of this woman, who wanders around making do with inadequacy. The one friend she has made in the city seems to be two-faced, with ulterior motives. Her relationship at first seems so promising, but her partner has been withholding information from the start and fails to communicate about crucial aspects of his life. She just rolls with it all, overthinking everything, doubting herself, but taking no action. Her attitude to her work is similarly ambivalent; contact with accused war criminals leads her to question herself and her life choices. It’s all a bit aimless, with various characters, mostly male, seemingly introduced only to treat her badly with no consequences. The word intimacy is used repeatedly throughout the text, which is odd as the protagonist has little true intimacy in her life. The ambiguous ending is perhaps meant to offer hope, but only reinforces her passive acceptance of a life not good enough.

Love and Virtue, by Diana Reid

A scholarship girl from Canberra, Michaela is an outsider at Sydney University’s Fairfax residential college. Super smart, but lacking confidence and a little naïve, from the start she submerges herself into the rampant drinking culture in order to fit in. Her next door neighbour Eve is a performative rebel, but is really just another of the privileged Sydney private school boys and girls who all know each other. Their friendship is always problematic, but Michaela doesn’t realise it until Eve co-opts an incident in O week to make a point and raise her own profile. The fallout lasts a lifetime. Reid’s depiction of campus and college life rings true and Michaela’s undergraduate experience investigates power and consent in this milieu. The story has a 90s vibe so it is shocking to realise it is contemporary and depressing to know that so little has changed nor seems likely to among the entrenched and toxic structures of academia. This debut novel has seen Diana Reid compared to Irish publishing phenomenon Sally Rooney, but her writing seems far more grounded in the real world. She has a second novel in the works so it will be interesting to see where she goes next. Hopefully not up her own arse like Rooney.

Thor – Love & Thunder (2022), directed by Taika Waititi

Thor has been creating havoc as much as he helps out while roaming the Universe with the Guardians of the Galaxy. The advent of the God Butcher sees them part ways in an attempt to save the day; Thor reuniting with Valkyrie and old flame Jane Foster along the way. Taika Waititi’s off beat take on the second Thor movie brought some much needed levity to the Marvel superhero franchise. Not so much in this third outing. The script is clearly aiming for humour, but is mostly just lame and self-indulgent. There are some funny cameos, including Russell Crowe as Zeus and Matt Damon, Melissa McCarthy and Sam Neill as actors in the tourist mecca of New Asgard. The pace picks up in the second half of the film, with some nice special effects and a mighty army of children. Chris Hemsworth relaxes too much into the lame humour, but his nude scene almost makes up for it. Returning as Jane, Natalie Portman brings class. Christian Bale makes a fabulous, well-rounded villain, although his aesthetic veers dangerously close to Voldemort. Overall the flaws outweigh the entertainment. Hopefully this is Waititi’s last venture in the MCU.

Broken Homes, by Ben Aaronovitch

The action moves south of the river when the magical investigators of the Metropolitan Police look into an apparent suicide at a London Tube station. Trainee wizard constable Peter Grant and his damaged colleague Lesley May go undercover in an iconic tower block, Skygarden, designed in the 60s by a revolutionary architect, who also may have had magical connections. Their old adversary the Faceless Man seems to be involved, but the team are puzzled as to his interest in Skygarden. Peter’s teenage cousin Abigail makes a few appearances in this tale, possibly flagging her trajectory in future books. Lesley forms an unlikely relationship with an unusual character from the previous book, underlining Peter’s cluelessness with women. The action is fast and it can be tricky to keep track of all the various elements and characters and how they are related – or not. Peter’s confidence and competence are growing, despite the doubts of his boss, but a major betrayal shocks them both and seriously undermines their chances of stopping their most dangerous enemy.

Sanditon, by Jane Austen and another lady

The recent unsatisfactory TV adaptation of Austen’s unfinished final novel prompted a reread. It was left unfinished when she died in 1817, but a version was completed by Marie Dobbs in 1975. Austen had written 11 chapters, which was sufficient to introduce all the important characters and establish how the story was likely to proceed. This made the task relatively easy for Dobbs, having been provided with the essential building blocks. Sensible Charlotte Heyward visits the emerging seaside town of Sanditon, where she has the opportunity to observe a very interesting set of characters, including several eligible bachelors. Dobbs lacks Austen’s sardonic humour but she makes a good fist of finishing the tale, treating the characters with affection and providing a satisfying outcome. This is in marked contrast to the TV series, where the writers have introduced a plethora of new characters and sordid storylines, along with an inconclusive ending. This was seemingly to allow further series, although it is difficult to imagine they will be worth watching.

The Flight Attendant (HBO)

International flight attendant Cassie hooks up with a first class passenger Alex and wakes next to his corpse in a Bangkok hotel room. Blacked out drunk, she remembers little of the night, panics, cleans up and flees the scene. What follows is a riot of murder, organised crime and corporate espionage, swirling around a woman with deep seated issues and falling apart. Pursued by the FBI and criminal consortia, Cassie lurches between disasters, trying to figure out what happened and get herself out of trouble. Kaley Cuoco walks a fine line between comedy and tragedy as a functioning alcoholic with childhood trauma, who is constantly letting down family and friends. Fantasy elements take her into her own head, talking with Alex to piece together their night and dipping back into her past to figure out how she became such a fuck up. The plot is often ludicrous, but moves fast enough to skip over the gaps; the sub plot is superfluous but paves the way for a possible second series. Cuoco is ably supported by a strong ensemble cast, including familiar TV faces Zosia Mamet, Rosie Perez, Michelle Gomez, TR Knight and Australian actor Deniz Akdeniz.

Those Who Perish, by Emma Viskic

Resurrection Bay again hosts the action in this fourth Caleb Zelic novel. He has been dividing his time between there and Melbourne, while his wife is staying with her parents in the final weeks of her pregnancy. The deaf PI has been trying to avoid dangerous jobs to keep Kat sweet, but that resolve is threatened when his junkie brother Ant reappears after six months with no contact. Soon Caleb is drawn into a murder mystery centred on an insular island in the Bay, where Ant is in a new rehab facility. Can Caleb keep his family safe and will he have to choose between his brother and his marriage? Visic evokes a great sense of place, with deep layers of community and culture, rural, indigenous and deaf. She maintains tension to the end, with the safety of all concerned in doubt and the identity of the murderer coming as a surprise to both Caleb and the reader. The murder rate in the small coastal town puts it in in danger of becoming Australia’s Midsummer, so it’s probably just as well her next novel will be a standalone.

Lessons in Chemistry, by Bonnie Garmus

Elizabeth Zott is a woman ahead of her time. As a scientist in the 1950s, her career is stymied by rampant sexism and by her freethinking, no-nonsense persona. Passionate about chemistry, Elizabeth is also a fabulous cook and she combines these two strengths to become a pioneer in television food programming. A terrible childhood, assault, discrimination, losing the love of her life and single motherhood in the 1950s – nothing can derail indomitable Elizabeth. With the support of a few loyal friends, including a remarkable dog, and her small daughter, she cannot but triumph. Written in a tongue-in-cheek style that belies its serious themes, this is a thoroughly entertaining and satisfying read. The devastatingly honest heroine both learns and teaches that you can create your own family on your own terms. A worthwhile lesson in more than chemistry.

A Discovery of Witches series 3 (SKY)

Returned to the 21st century, Diana and Matthew gather their allies to search for the missing pages of the Book of Life and combat the Congregation and its restrictive Covenant. Diana is pregnant, which makes their task more urgent, as the Covenant threatens Matthew’s whole bloodline. He needs to reconcile issues from his past to secure their future. Meanwhile a serial killer threatens to expose Creatures to the world and rogue witch Peter Knox is out for blood. This final season is as true to the books as the first two, but the action is somewhat crammed into only seven episodes. This leaves the ending as something of an anticlimax as everything is suddenly resolved after a dramatic rescue. Filming during COVID restrictions must have been difficult, but the story deserved another episode to properly round it out and better satisfy, given the series will not continue.

All’s Well, by Mona Awad

Her promising acting career derailed by injury, Miranda Fitch now teaches drama at a minor college. Dogged by chronic pain, she is dependent on painkillers and lurches between physios and massage therapists in search of relief. She lives in her own head, rarely stands up for herself and has alienated her husband, her few friends and most of her students. They want this year’s Shakespeare performance to be MacBeth, but she has chosen All’s Well That Ends Well and they are in open rebellion. When Miranda meets three strangely sympathetic men in the pub, they introduce her to a golden liquid and her life starts to change. Suddenly those who make her life difficult are being struck down, while she mysteriously gets stronger. But is she living in a fantasy world or has she sold her soul to the devil? Chronic pain can warp the mind and this novel goes to some very dark places. What wouldn’t we do to ensure that all’s well – am I right?

Crucible of Gold, by Naomi Novik

Laurence and Temeraire are relatively content on their isolated property in the Blue Mountains of New South Wales, when a familiar British diplomat literally drops in. Bonaparte has allied with the Tswana with designs on South America and so the draconic duo are to be (sort of) reinstated to the military to help head off the problem, because of their African experience. Of course nothing goes smoothly – shipwreck, marooning and mutiny are just the start of their obstacles. The Incan Empire offers a whole new take on human-dragon relations, as well as a new phase in the Napoleonic wars. By helping in Brazil, Britain gains Portugal’s friendship. But shifting alliances put Laurence’s reinstated captaincy at risk and it seems he and Temeraire may be returning to China for their next adventure.

Petite Maman (2022), Directed by Cecile Sciamma

Eight-year-old Nelly and her parents are clearing out her grandma’s house after her recent death. Half way through the task Nelly’s mother, Marion, suddenly leaves without explanation. Playing in the woods, Nelly meets another girl her age and the two only children bond. This slow and thoughtful film is shot totally from Nelly’s point of view. Her joys, fears and sorrows drive the narrative in a tender examination of grief, goodbyes and parent-child relationships. Time travel? Flights of imagination? We are never quite sure and it really doesn’t matter. The performance of Josephine Sanz as Nelly is remarkable and the casting of her twin, Gabrielle, as her new friend is very clever. The many long, slow, lingering shots verge on tedium but set a mood and at 73 minutes this heartfelt and emotional film does not outstay its welcome.

Whispers Underground, by Ben Aaronovitch

The London Underground is the setting for this third book in the Rivers of London series. Constable Peter Grant’s colleague Lesley May has joined him at The Folly as an apprentice wizard. She is still recovering from the horrific facial injuries inflicted by magic in the first book, but is gradually discarding her mask. In this tale the murder of a young American student leads to discovery of a secret underground village of a previously unknown species of magical humans. Peter’s young cousin Abigail makes another appearance, expanding the team of magic learners. All hands are likely to be needed as the so-far fruitless search for the Faceless man and his evil associates ramps up. A lesson in the history and geography of London always comes with these books and this mostly adds to their entertainment.

Dinner with the Schnabels, by Toni Jordan

Melbourne architect Simon Larsen has lost his business, his self-respect and his family’s home during the pandemic. Despite clearly suffering from depression he refuses to seek help. He drinks too much and it is left to his long-suffering wife, Tansy, to keep body and soul together in their tiny rental flat. Tansy’s overbearing mother, Gloria, has decreed a belated memorial service for her estranged ex-husband and Simon has been coerced into landscaping the friend’s garden where it will be held. In Simon’s view, Tansy is excessively close to her siblings so when her half-sister lands on them for the service, his breaking point may be near. This is a hot mess of a book that tries very hard to be quirky and funny, with an underlying serious message. It turns itself inside out with unlikely plot elements and unbelievable characters in an attempt to achieve a satisfying outcome. But Simon is such an oblivious, self-centred sad sack that it’s difficult to stick with him. The love of a good woman and a supportive family are all very well, but there is something distasteful about the infantilisation of man seemingly unable to help himself to any degree.

How to Please a Woman (2022), directed by Renee Webster

Gina is 50-something, in a sexless marriage and taken for granted in her work. Her only joy is early morning ocean swimming with a group of girlfriends. They organise a stripper as a surprise birthday gift, but she gets him to clean her house instead and a business idea is born. There are a lot of laughs along the way, as Gina organises appropriate training for her workers and discovers a huge unmet need among her peers. But can she find a way to have her own needs met? The film makes some gently serious points about women being ignored and unappreciated as they age and how women should ask for what they want. Sally Phillips is perfect as Gina and she is supported by a group of fabulous women, including Hayley McElhinney, Tasma Walton and Caroline Brazier. Eric Thomson, Cameron Daddo and Alexander England lead the male supporting cast. Australian comedic films are often disappointingly lame, but this one delivers.

Again Rachel, by Marian Keyes

Twenty years after Rachel’s Holiday the middle Walsh sister once again features in this revisitation of the irrepressible Irish family. Now an addiction counsellor at the Dublin rehab facility that helped her, Rachel has a good life and a lovely boyfriend she feels unable commit to. When her ex-husband Luke returns to Ireland for his mother’s funeral, it brings up a load of unresolved issues for Rachel as she slowly relives the unravelling of her marriage. Can she resolve her issues, get closure with Luke and finally commit to Quin? It’s always good to spend time with the Walshes and we get a good dose of them here, with updates on Claire, Maggie, Anna and Helen as well as an introduction to the next generation – which possibly promises more Walsh books. But while it’s interesting to see how Rachel tackles her lifelong battle with addiction and satisfying to see her find happiness, it takes an awfully long time to get there. At almost 600 pages the story drags in places and the variety of quirky characters is not enough to lift it.

Downton Abbey – A New Era (2022), directed by Simon Curtis

Starting with a wedding and ending with a funeral, the second spin-off film of the beloved TV series is mostly about the costumes and glorious settings. The Dowager Lady Grantham has discovered she owns a villa in the south of France, following the death of an old flame. She is putting her affairs in order and decides to leave the villa to Sybil, the only great-grandchild unprovided for. Half the extended Crawley family travels to France to check it out, while Lady Mary allows a film crew to take over Downton Abbey for a month to finance roof repairs. So we see two dramas play out, with Lord Grantham questioning his origins in France while the advent of talking pictures puts careers at risk in England. This film has more plot than the first one, but there are a lot of happy endings and new opportunities, except for the obvious, in a way that is a little overdone. It is a pity Matthew Goode couldn’t make even a day’s filming, as while the absence of Lady Mary’s husband is covered well for the most of the film, his non-appearance at the end is a glaring problem. Overall it is a film just for the fans, with Maggie Smith getting all the best lines as is her due.

Moon Over Soho, by Ben Aaronovitch

London jazz musicians have been dying immediately after gigs and while initially deemed to be of natural causes, there is a pattern that looks suspicious. Quite apart from his role as apprentice wizard in a special unit of the Metropolitan Police, Constable Peter Grant is uniquely placed to investigate the mystery. His dad is an almost famous jazz trumpeter, derailed by his addictions, who has taken up keyboard and is hoping for a second chance career. As if the jazz vampires weren’t enough, there is also a ‘dark lady’ wreaking horror on not-so innocent men. This uncovers the working of a dark wizard, who looks likely to cause trouble for Peter and his colleagues in future books. The plot gets a bit convoluted and the usually sharp Peter stays a long way behind the reader in identifying a likely suspect. This is possibly a commentary on how even the best young men can be led by their anatomy. The author’s trademark dry wit makes for an entertaining read, with the history and geography of London an intrinsic part of the tale.

Tongues of Serpents, by Naomi Novik

Convicted of treason, Lawrence and his dragon Temeraire have been busted out of the air corps and transported to New South Wales. The dragon factor means they are not treated as ordinary convicts, but without official rank they are caught between the civil war in the colony between ousted governor Bligh and the new landed gentry under MacArthur. There are no native dragons in Australia but, as the British aeronauts discover when they venture into the vast interior, there are vicious and predatory Bunyips. There they also discover a major threat to British trade, with the smuggling of luxury goods from China via what will later become the port of Darwin. As usual Novik uses real historical events and people as the basis for her tale and gives them a fascinating twist. Her depiction of the interaction of Aboriginal, Asian and European cultures, for better and for worse, is particularly interesting.

Dr Strange in the Multiverse of Madness (2022), directed by Sam Raimi

Teenager America Chavez has the unique power of travelling to multiple universes, but she can’t control it and demons are chasing her to steal it. Dr Strange is trying to protect her, but accidentally puts her more at risk. Can he deal with multiple versions of himself in alternate universes to save the day? As well as the usual Marvel action and special effects, this film touches on dealing with grief and loss; continually asking what it is to be happy? Apart from Strange’s fellow sorcerers the Scarlet Witch is the only other major Marvel character present, but there are some interesting cameos from Avengers and others in alternate universes – which is a bit of fun, especially Peggy Carter as Captain Britain. Xochiti Gomez , as the talented teen, makes a nice foil to Benedict Cumberbatch’s Steven Strange and Rachel McAdams provides good value as multiple doomed love interest Christine. This film follows on directly from the last Spiderman movie and the Wandavision TV series, but it is not necessary to have seen them to pick up the thread. As always it is too long and it could be argued to be as much horror as sci fi, but despite some clunky dialogue the film is entertaining, sometimes gasp-inducing and occasionally moving.

In the After, by Marian Frith

Anna is a 62-year-old woman in Sydney, who is the lone survivor of a terrorist attack. Nat is a 35-year-old Afghanistan veteran, who feels responsible for not preventing the attack by doing his job over there properly. The two form an unlikely and supportive friendship after Nat reaches out to apologise. Frith paints a vivid and horrifying picture of those enduring trauma and the difficulty of trying to adjust back into a ‘normal’ life while suffering the consequent PTSD. Survivor guilt, the fog of war; she delves beneath the clichés to make sense of the well-worn phrases, to make Anna and Nat’s experiences able to be understood. Unfortunately, she is less successful at depicting the actual people and their relationships with those around them. Anna comes the closest to a fully-rounded character but Nat is, at best, two-dimensional, while his wife and Anna’s children are as flat as tacks on the page. Their actions, behaviour and conversations are largely not credible, and they come across as obtuse, selfish or literally too good to be true. It’s a pity because this detracts from the otherwise strong sympathy evoked for Anna and Nat and the hope for recovery and redemption offered by their stories.

Into the Fire, by Elizabeth Moon

The second novel of the Vatta’s Peace trilogy starts a few weeks after the close of volume one, on the planet of Slotter Key. After an island break, former Admiral Ky Vatta and her fiancé Rafe have made a hurried return to her cousin Stella’s house in the capital. The house has been broken into and there is a heightened security risk. Ky soon discovers that the personnel she rescued in their previous adventure have not been returned to their families as promised, but have disappeared. Not only that, the evidence she turned over to the Slotter Key military has gone missing and her and Rafe’s immigration status is under question. Under attack on many fronts, Ky needs to regain her citizenship, clear her name and, most importantly, find her people and ensure their safety. Along the way she, Stella and their formidable aunt Grace must find out who is behind decades-old plots to take over the planet and eradicate their family. The tension ratchets up as more things go wrong and the obstacles seem insurmountable. Can Ky’s leadership strength and ability to recruit allies kick in to even the odds?

Dog (2022), directed by Channing Tatum and Reid Carolin

Army Ranger veteran Jackson Briggs was invalided out with a brain injury, but is trying to get clearance to get back in. His only possible route is by agreeing to take a 1500km road trip to deliver retired Ranger dog Lulu to the funeral of her handler, his former colleague. The mismatched pair of damaged vets form a bond as they find trouble along the way and Jackson comes to realise has a choice between the well-worn path of self destruction or a difficult way forward to a healthy future. This is Channing Tatum’s film in every way, but he is almost upstaged by the dog. It had the potential to be sentimental, pseudo-patriotic trash, but the film does not shy away from the hard and dirty work they had to do in Afghanistan and the damage it has done to both man and dog. There are lighter moment and laughs, but it is clear on the reluctance of veterans to seek help and their tendency to self-medicate rather than communicate. So many people along the journey tell Jackson to get help, but will the message finally get through? Dog knows.

Fantastic Beasts: The Secrets of Dumbledore (2022), directed by David Yates

There is to be an election for the leader of the magical world and a fantastic beast is required to judge which candidate is pure of heart and worthy of the role. Naturally Newt Scamander has been sent to find the beast and keep it safe, but dark wizard Grindelwald has other ideas. Far from the simple pleasures of the Harry Potter series of books and films, the Fantastic Beasts franchise went dark and complicated very quickly. A populist leader subverting the election process – what possible historical or contemporary correlations could there be? Mads Mikkelson makes a more than satisfactory replacement for Mr Depp as Grindelwald, while Richard Coyle and Callum Scott are welcome additions as the previously undisclosed brothers of Dumbledore and Scamander. But overall this third film is too long, too slow, and too dark; with not enough magical moments to lighten the load. It’s better than the second film, but not as entertaining as the first; it’s a little hard to credit that two more have been planned.

The Maid, by Nita Prose

Molly works in housekeeping at the Grand Regent Hotel, a job she loves and is very good at. She lives in the aprtment where she was raised by her beloved late Gran and it having trouble making the rent. It is soon clear that Molly is on the spectrum; she is smart but has trouble reading social and emotional cues, which often lands her in hot water. When she discovers hotel guest Mr Black dead in his suite Molly conceals information from the police to protect his trophy wife, Giselle, who has befriended her. Prose does a good job of making it clear to the reader that there have been dodgy dealings between Mr Black and some of the hotel staff, while leaving helpful Molly to her delusions. The maid soon finds herself in big trouble, but also finds friends in high and low places who help her out. In her determination to tie up all loose ends Prose leaves some annoying plot holes and time discrepancies. Most are unnecessary to the main story and contribute to a credibility gap for Molly that undermines the morally ambiguous ending. This is ironic, given that the author is also an editor – perhaps she felt she didn’t need the oversight. Big tip – she did.

Rivers of London, by Ben Aaronovitch

PC Peter Grant is guarding a murder scene in London's Covent Garden when he encounters a ghost. This changes the course of his career with the Metropolitan Police and the course of his life. Destined for a paperwork assignment, instead he becomes an apprentice wizard to the mysterious Inspector Nightingale. This puts him at the pointy end of the murder investigation and he has to learn fast how to deal with the supernatural, both benign and malevolent. Aaronovitch seamlessly weaves the history of London with the operations of the Met and the everyday concerns of a young man about town, in a style reminiscent of Neil Gaiman. His wry humour leavens the often gory and brutal action faced by his appealing hero, who has an interesting back story and a fascinating future. The rivers of the tale are the spirits of the city’s waterways, who have their own agenda that could hinder or help Peter’s investigation and career.

Maid (Netflix)

Alex Russell is 25 with a toddler, living in an emotionally abusive relationship that is threatening to turn violent. Her escape is fraught with difficulty, with minimal help from friends and family. Trying to navigate the welfare and legal systems tests her limits, but she tries her hardest to get work and take care of her daughter. It is heartbreaking to see her thwarted at every turn as, after a series of disasters, whenever she catches a break something else goes badly wrong. This is sometimes due to her poor choices, but more often she is let down or undermined by her drunken ex or her unstable mother Paula. This show can be a hard watch but the tale rings absolutely true, no doubt because it is based on the real life story of author Stephanie Land, who is also an executive producer. Margaret Qualley is raw and believable as Alex, her expressive face saying as much as her dialogue. Her real life mother Andie MacDowell plays Paula, an artist who has had a tough life herself but always seems to put her daughter last. Despite her mistakes you cheer for Alex and hope she finally breaks out of her desperate situation.

Wherabouts, by Jhumpa Lahiri

An unnamed woman inhabits an unidentified city, clearly in Italy by its characteristics. She is a middle aged academic, long single, living a solitary life that is maybe a little lonely. Each short chapter is geographically located – on the sidewalk; on the street; in my office; at the trattoria; and so on. The reader sees the city and its inhabitants through her eyes, with beautifully lucid descriptions of people and place. Moving through the seasons she reflects on relationships with family, with friends and colleagues, the road not taken and possibilities for the future. The reader sits on her shoulder, experiencing the city and its people along with the woman in a manner that is strangely satisfying.

The Last Graduate, by Naomi Novik

Lesson Two of the Scholomance takes up where Lesson One ended in A Deadly Education, with El and her allies starting their final year at the magical and deadly boarding school. They have no idea how successful their repair of the cleansing machinery was and therefore whether or not last year’s Senior graduating class made it out. El receives a warning message from her mother that poses a dilemma, but she is soon more preoccupied with the uniquely challenging curriculum the school has imposed on her. Stretched to her limits, El finds new reserves and new allies in the fight against the maleficent creatures who are out to devour all wizards and especially the vulnerable young ones. But can she expand her abilities to help all those who need her protection and what will be the cost? Novik’s wryly funny dark fantasy holds such interesting parallels to political and cultural divides in the real world, with equally interesting solutions. A sense of foreboding underpins the story, which pays off as expected in a slightly unexpected way. The ending makes it difficult to imagine how Lesson Three will go, but it will be great fun to find out.

Off the Rails (2022), directed by Jules Williamson

In the 1980s four University friends, Liz, Anna, Kate and Cassie, went Interrailing in southern Europe, aiming to catch the biannual light show at the cathedral in Palma. They never made it and over the years, through work and family obligations, they have drifted apart. When Anna dies of cancer she leaves a task for the remaining three women to take her 18 year-old daughter, Maddie, on a quest to complete the journey and see the light show. This very slight film gets very silly towards the end, but the journey is nevertheless enjoyable, with a nice underlying message about letting go of the past and making the most of what you have. Jenny Seagrove is particularly resonant as single, broke Kate. It was Kelly Preston’s last film before she died from breast cancer, making her performance more poignant.

Cold Welcome, by Elizabeth Moon

War hero Admiral Ky Vatta is returning to her home planet to take care of some family business. Sabotage sets her adrift in an icy sea, off an inhospitable continent, with a mismatched troop of Space Force officers that she must try to lead to survival. The first part of the book gets a bit bogged down in technical detail of space shuttles, survival suits and life rafts. It gets more interesting as the complex political and social machinations kick in and we get the other side of the picture from Ky’s worried family and friends. There is a lot going on, with a centuries old conspiracy fuelling a deadly plot, linked to Ky’s tragic family history. Ky herself is a little too good to be true – 29-year-old military genius – but she is an appealing character, not hard to barrack for and her family is fascinating. This is the first book of a new series, Vatta’s Peace, which follows on from a five-book series, Vatta’s War. Moon is a skilled enough writer to fill in enough of the back story, but it probably would be useful to read the first series before tackling this one.

After Life (Netflix) season 3

Ricky Gervais broke his two season limit rule to create this third outing for grieving widower Tony. Season two was rather too neatly wrapped up, with seemingly a happy ending for everyone. Season three shows that real life is, of course, not like that. Tony has not progressed his relationship with Emma as he has not found a way to both keep loving his wife and move on from her death. As he moves glacially through the stages of grief, he becomes slightly less of a prick to those around him, so that’s progress of a kind. For all its thoughtful and poignant moments, there is a lack of balance in this series that tips it over the edge of worth extending. The female characters barely appear until the last few episodes; they are treated as peripheral and their concerns an afterthought. In contrast the crude misogyny of a middle-aged incel features far too heavily and is unfunny and at times, stomach-churning. Gervais has always included an element of naughty-boy transgression in his work, the horrendous psychiatrist embodies this in series one, but in his late middle age the trope is getting tedious and overdone. Roxy the sex worker doesn’t appear at all in series three, but we have to hear all about her boyfriend’s misery about her profession. So was it worth breaking the two-season rule? On balance, probably not.

What Abigail Did That Summer, by Ben Aaronovitch

Magic is real, but not that many people know about it. Abigail Kamara, age 13, is one of the few. When teens start going missing around Hampstead Heath, Abigail is certain a magical element is involved. She enlists her new friend Simon and a team of foxes to investigate. The teen’s usual ally, her magical cop cousin, is busy up north and Abigail is afraid his boss will stop her getting involved. It’s a tricky case, but fortunately Simon’s mum has a few useful contacts. Abigail is a smart, strong and streetwise heroine with a wealth of resources. The text has a wry wit with appeal across a wide age range. This is a spin off tale from a series, Rivers of London, but it holds up pretty well as a stand-alone story for the uninitiated.

The Man Who Died Twice, by Richard Osman

The second outing of the Thursday Murder Club sees the gang of four seniors looking into threats against an old MI5 colleague of Elizabeth’s and some valuable missing diamonds. Meanwhile, local coppers Chris and Donna need some help dealing with a local thug and a dangerously ambitious drug dealer. The action never stops, but it is the fully rounded characters who provide the real focus of the story. The intrepid and resilient septuagenarians bring their diverse backgrounds and experiences to great effect, solving mysteries large and small and building solid and satisfying relationships. The story gets rather far-fetched, with several unanswered questions, but most ends are neatly tied and there is plenty of room for another go around.

A Stitch in Time (2021), directed by Sasha Hannen

Liebe has lived with Duncan for decades, giving up her own work as a highly skilled dressmaker to support the aspiring musician. When he loses his last remaining gig at the RSL she wants to take up the needle professionally again, but he is less than enthusiastic. An old friend becomes a cheerleader and, very late in life, Liebe finally stands up for herself and her dreams. This is a really interesting story, with an unpredictable trajectory and ending. It is apparently based on a real person and something of a passion project for the director, who also wrote, edited and produced the film. Unfortunately the execution lets it down. The script needed several more drafts, the clunky dialogue and exposition difficult for the valiant cast to overcome. The acting is patchy – Glen Shorrock, as Duncan, is a very fine musician but no actor. Character actor Maggie Blinco has a lot to carry as Liebe and she is ably supported by Hoa Xuande, as fashion designer Hamish. Their friendship is the keystone of the film and makes up for many of its flaws. One major one is the terrible sound – what is meant to be background noise in several outdoor scenes sounds like a two-way radio. The supporting cast includes veteran actors Belinda Giblin and John Gregg, in his last film.

Red White & Royal Blue, by Casey McQuiston

It is 2020 and Ellen Claremont has begun the campaign to win her second term as the first woman US president. In his final year of college, her son, Alex Claremont-Diaz, is a charming and ambitious potential asset to the campaign. So what will happen to both their aspirations when Alex falls in love with Prince Henry, younger son of the heir to the British throne? A Royal romance with a difference, this is a clever, tender and funny exploration of a relationship developing in despite of the public eye. Queen Mary is on the throne and her heir is Princess Catherine of Wales, mother of Prince Philip, Princess Beatrice and Prince Henry. Some of the details are a little far-fetched, but it is ultimately a modern fairy tale and what could be a better alternative reality than one where Trump was never elected?

Delicious (2021), directed by Eric Besnard

An enormous divide between rich and poor in 18th century France has caused hunger and unrest. Former baker Pierre Manceron has been elevated above his humble background to become chef in the regional household of the gourmand Duke of Chamfort. But he is ambitious and wants to create his own recipes, not just cook to the Duke’s orders and this clash puts him out of favour and out of work. With his teenage son, Pierre returns to his childhood home in the middle of nowhere – a rundown inn that serves as a wayside stop for travellers to and from Paris. When jam maker Louise arrives and demands to be taken on as an apprentice, Pierre regains his interest in innovative cooking. Her smart ideas offer a chance of a bright future for the inn and its inhabitants, but her dark past and dangerous secrets could lead them to disaster. This entertaining tale of the invention of restaurants is set in the early days of the French Revolution and makes some serious political points about the dangers of inequality. It is done with a light touch, including some very funny jokes and superb subtitling. The cast is appealing and the setting and costumes enhance the wholly delicious experience.

Great Circle, by Maggie Shipstead

Marian Graves was a pilot, who disappeared in 1950 with her navigator when attempting a circumnavigation of the globe via both poles. Hadley Baxter is a young actress playing Marian in biopic many years later. Marian and her twin brother Jamie were raised by their uncle in rural Montana. Her story is told in a series of time and place-stamped short pieces, starting with the lives of her mentally unwell mother and oddball ship captain father. Orphaned as a toddler by a plane crash and also raised by her uncle, Hollywood brat Hadley tells her own tale of discovering Marian’s true story while playing her. The novel also contains potted histories of many intrepid female (and some male) aviators, which borders on the didactic but provides an interesting backdrop and context, especially the WWII pilots. At almost 600 pages this is not a quick read, but it is an absorbing tale that holds attention and takes a rather different direction just when it seems to be getting predictable. The author says this was cut down from an unwieldy 1000 pages, which may explain why Hadley’s story is left hanging. This makes her a vessel to advance Marian’s story, rather than a fully-rounded character in her own right, which is a little disappointing. Ultimately the tale celebrates love on its own terms and female achievement when up against incredible hardship and obstacles.

Licorice Pizza (2021), directed by Paul Thomas Anderson

The title probably says it all about this very strange film. Budding entrepreneur Gary Valentine is 15 and abounds with self-confidence. Alana Kane is 25-ish, directionless in a dead-end job. Their unlikely love story develops through a series of business opportunities and misadventures in early 1970s California. The film expounds some interesting themes along the lines of knowing yourself and discovering what you want – and don’t want, especially for Alana, but it really drags in places and there are many inexplicable shots of the leads running. Musician Alana Haim and Cooper Hoffman are very good in debut performances. complemented by a fabulous soundtrack. But too much time is spent on the misadventures, which feature some truly bizarre cameos from the likes of Bradley Cooper, Tom Waits and Sean Penn in vignettes that smack of self-indulgent Hollywood in jokes. It is not surprising that the lead performances have been nominated in the upcoming awards season, but the film itself – really? A weird combination that sounds cool, but is actually just odd. It really is all in the name.

Where the Crawdads Sing, by Delia Owens

Miss Catherine Danielle Clark is Kya to her family and friends and ‘the Marsh Girl’ to the people of the small community near her shack in the marshlands of North Carolina. Her story begins in 1951 and tells of her lonely and neglected childhood, living in poverty and violence, abandoned by her family and ostracised by the community. It periodically leaps forward to 1969, where authorities are investigating the mysterious death of local golden boy Chase Andrews. With a few helping hands Kya raises and educates herself, eventually finding a level of success and security. But the naïve ‘wild child’ remains an outsider and an object of suspicion. Owens skilfully evokes the beauty of the marshes and the joy and sustenance Kya gains from the natural world. Her lyrical and lush descriptions sometimes tip over into florid and overblown and the story conveys a sense of unreality as elements of it require substantial suspension of disbelief. Kya is both alien and sympathetic, her damage, vulnerability and resilience elevating her tale above a kitchen sink drama. The ending is perhaps wrapped up a little too neatly in the far future; the shock twist not really much of a shock.

Rita (Netflix) series 1-5

This Danish series is funny, sad and frequently moving, offering a refreshing alternative to the plethora of Scandi noir. Rita is a school teacher and self-confessed fuck up, a single mother of three in her 40s who always wears jeans and checked shirts. A rebel with a cause, she is fiercely protective of the kids she teaches – especially those from difficult backgrounds. But she gets so caught up with her causes she can be oblivious to problems closer to home. She adores her three kids, but sometimes neglects them or ignores their problems. In a casually convenient relationship with the head teacher, Rasmus, Rita is often her own worst enemy - making some really bad decisions. Milla Dineson is perfectly cast as Rita; her character always retains the viewer’s sympathy, even when behaving badly. Rita is relatably human, deeply flawed and eminently loveable. The story arc over five seasons is broad and deep, delving into Rita’s troubled childhood and showing how she became who she is. Made from 2012 to 2020, Rita provides a fascinating insight into a different culture. A short spin-off series, Hjordis, is also delightful.

To Be Taught if Fortunate, by Becky Chambers

In the mid 22nd century citizen science organisation OCA has revived space exploration, sending out six missions under its Lawki program. Each crew of four long-haul space explorers go into torpor for decades while travelling between stars, ageing only minimally over this period. While in the torpor state they undergo body modifications to adapt them to the environment they are heading for. The intent is to make minimal impact and not impose Earth values or bacteria on other moons and planets. Theirs is a purely scientific expedition to gather as much information as possible about life on other worlds. It takes 14 years for communications to go back and forth each way, so any news is old news and their experience and initiative must get them out of any trouble they meet. Apart from its strikingly poetic and profound title this slim novel is a departure from Chambers’ Wayfarers series, not least because the focus on hard science can be heavy going at times. She teeters on the edge of didactic exposition. Its very human orientation places the story as a long distant precursor to the earlier books. It does contain very interesting ideas and ask important questions. It will be fascinating to see if Chambers’ next novel is a sequel that answers some of those questions, or introduces a new world entirely.

The 22 Murders of Madison May, by Max Barry

The multiverse theory posits an infinite number of universes, all just a little different from each other. Max Barry posits a loose group of people who have found a way to travel through the various universes, taking with them small positives to try to make small improvements in each new world. But what happens when one of them goes rogue – an incel determined to kill and keep killing the woman who keeps failing to meet his ideal image of her? Felicity Staples is a political journalist on a New York paper, who stumbles into the group of travellers after reporting on what turns out to be the 20th murder of Madison May by Clay Hors. Cast adrift from her own world, Felicity manages to stop one murder. But how many more can she prevent and will she lose herself trying? This novel has a strange structure; starting with Maddie’s story, before switching emphatically to Felicity and then finally bringing them together. It gets confusing at times as to which universe we are in, especially when Barry appears to transgress his own rules of movement. He doesn’t inflict the full details of all 22 murders; the few depicted are sufficiently horrifying to make the point – no matter the scenario, it always ends with Hors attacking the object of his affection. The story touches on several moral and ethical dilemmas without delving into them. The one definitive statement that resonates puts responsibility firmly with the assailant rather than the victim, not allowing the classic ‘look what you made me do’ defence to stand. It seems ridiculous that such a statement is necessary in 2021, but so it is – presumably the raison d’etre for the novel.

His Dark Materials (HBO) Series One

Lyra is 12 and has grown up with the academics at Jordan College, Oxford, since her uncle left her in their care as a baby. But this is a different Oxford in a different world, where the sinister Magisterium rules a religious dictatorship with an iron fist. Lyra sets out on a quest to rescue her kidnapped friend, meeting an array of unexpected allies along her journey to the frozen north. There she discovers she is not actually an orphan and may have an important role to play in changing the world. Casting and CGI are the cornerstones of success in adapting Philip Pullman’s trilogy of dark fantasy novels for the small screen. The cast is outstanding and uniformly excellent, featuring Ruth Wilson, James McAvoy and Lin-Manuel Miranda. Dafne Keen as Lyra holds it all together. The CGI is also very good, bringing to life the daemons that represent souls that take on a fixed form at puberty – oh and then there are the armoured bears. The books are extremely complex, with a large array of characters, challenging concepts and a twisty plot. For the most part these have translated well, but there are a few coincidences and unexplained elements that leave a gap in the narrative despite having eight episodes to map it all out. A second series may well resolve some of these mysteries and a third is planned.

The Housemate, by Sarah Bailey

In a share house in Melbourne one young woman is dead, one has been arrested for her murder and one has disappeared. Investigative journalist Oli Groves was on the scene of the housemate murder, 10 years earlier. Now the missing woman has turned up and Oli is assigned to work on a podcast, as well as the news, with Cooper, an eager young digital journalist. As they dig up more about what did and didn’t happen 10 years ago, the mismatched pair find themselves in danger and unsure of who to trust. Oli’s approach to work and life is informed by childhood trauma, its impacts slowly revealed as the story progresses. Now engaged to the man she was having an affair with 10 years ago, Oli struggles to balance work with family commitments. They reunited after the death of his wife, who was coincidentally the police detective on the housemate murder case. The investigation sparks doubts about her fiancé’s controlling ways and his possible involvement in a crime. Can their relationship survive? There is a lot of complicated stuff going on here and a few too many coincidences and interconnections that are a bit of a stretch in a large city. The story spirals continually darker and is all rather grim by the end.

Secrets of Happiness, by Joan Silber

Written in first person from multiple points of view, the segments of this book have a sameness of tone that fails to differentiate the individuals, regardless of differences in gender, race, or sexuality. Gay Ethan tells of the discovery of his father’s long-tern infidelity and the fallout from it. Mixed race Joe fills in the details of his family’s experience, but never do the two half-brothers meet. Then we jump to Maribel, Rachel, Bud, Tara and back to Ethan. Their tales tell us that families are complicated, relationships are complicated; the irony is that none of them has any clue to the secrets of happiness. It is less a novel and more a series of, very loosely, connected short stories, that seem to be about a bunch of characters in search of a story. It’s like an Altman film and about as satisfying.

Ellie and Abbie - and Ellie’s Dead Aunt (2020), directed by Monica Zanetti

School Captain Ellie wants to ask Abbie to the formal, but it’s a big step when she’s not sure that Abbie likes her that way and she hasn’t even come out to her mum yet. It’s not necessarily helpful when the spirit of Ellie’s aunt Tara appears to offer advice. She was a leading gay rights activist who died before Ellie was born and times have changed since her day. This is an LGBTQI story that could be anyone’s story in its essentials. The simple coming of age/coming out tale gains depth from Tara’s historical perspective, without labouring the issues. The relationships all come across as authentic and it is refreshing that the lead characters in an Australian film are all women. Sophie Hawkshaw as Ellie is a young Virginia Gay; Marta Dusseldorp brings extra class as her mum; and Zoe Terakes as Abbie has a natural appeal. The film was crowdfunded and while it is a pity that was necessary the result vindicates the faith shown by the generous crowd.

Sugar Town Queens, by Malla Nunn

Amandla is 15 and living in a one-room shack in a shanty town on the outskirts of Durban with her mother Annalisa. They are an oddity in Sugar Town in many ways; Annalisa is white, has holes in her memory and a sometimes tenuous grip on reality. Mixed race Amandla knows nothing about her origins or how they came to live in the slum she desperately wants to escape. The accidental discovery of her mother’s family leads Amandla and her good friends on a quest to find out Annalisa’s history and her own. What they discover forges new and rewarding relationships and sets them all up for a different future. Nunn paints a really interesting picture of modern ‘rainbow’ South Africa from the point of view of a teenage girl. The story has an almost fairy tale quality, despite or perhaps because of the real world threats and dangers that are part of everyday life in the city. Amandla and her crew are sharp and funny; they take the reader along for the ride, feeling the highs and lows along with them.