Oppenheimer (2023), directed by Christopher Nolan

Physicist J Robert Oppenheimer, ‘father of the Atomic bomb’, is a polarising historical figure, who rode a rollercoaster of adulation and vilification. This film depicts how his early left wing leanings and Jewish background fuelled a genuine opposition to Nazism and led naturally to his wartime work on the bomb. His earnest belief seemed to be that dropping the A-bomb would end all war because the consequences were so horrific. The end would justify the means. His post-war work to influence US policy in this direction was also an attempt to assuage his conscience about the destruction his work wreaked. Combined with his early communist sympathies, this put him at odds with McCarthyist America. The film’s structure is odd, starting with what eventually becomes clear to be his downfall and flashing back and forward in time throughout. Apart from the war years of the Manhattan project, the exact time period is never entirely clear and for some reason the latest time period is shot in black and white. Famous figures of physics abound in a dizzying array that barely allows time for recognition in a feature film, even one that is three hours long. The story could probably have been better told in a limited series format. That said, Nolan uses VFX well to help explain quantum physics to a general audience whose closest point of reference is likely the Big Bang Theory. The stellar cast is excellent and Cillian Murphy and Robert Downey Jr are exceptional and deserving of their Oscars. But while interesting the film as a whole is overlong and overhyped. Its most useful purpose is to point the way to discovering more about a fascinating character in a crucial period of history. It also serves as a timely reminder that US politics has always been fucked.

The Accident, by Fiona Lowe

In the WA wheatbelt town of Garringarup, retailer Freya and paramedic Ryan have been happily unmarried and child free for 15 years. Ryan’s best friend Jamie is about to marry younger Perth girl Hannah, who has become close with Freya. On the eve of the wedding a catastrophic car crash not only devastates them all, but raises questions and issues from all their lives that will drastically affect the future and test the bonds of friendship. This intense examination of relationships between mothers and daughters, partners and friends dips into heavy themes ranging from coercive control, reproductive technology law and various addictions. Unfortunately this is another book that needed more drafts and a stronger editor. It starts with a huge info dump and an excess of adjectives. Many characters are two-dimensional, the research dictates the narrative rather than informing it and the strong feminist message, while admirable, is often didactic. There are the bones of a great story, but it is written as an aspiring potboiler bestseller, a la Moriarty and is ultimately not a satisfying read.

Dead Boy Detectives (Netflix)

Repressed Edwin and cheerful Charles have been best friends for 30-odd years, despite their many differences. What they do have in common is that they are both ghosts, resisting moving on to the afterlife but helping others to do so by solving their murders. After helping her get rid of a demon they team up with living psychic Crystal to solve the mystery of a missing girl in a small American town. A malevolent witch, the King of cats, a Japanese student and a goth butcher are just a few of the enemies and allies they need to contend with or enlist in sorting out the town’s many supernatural problems before they can return to London. The boys are also being chased by the afterworld’s Lost and Found Office, while Crystal’s demon has not given up on repossessing her. Fast moving and witty, the only quibble with this entertaining series is that the three protagonists are supposed to be in their teens and the actors very clearly are not. That said, they are very good and imbue their well-written characters with breadth and depth. Based on a Neil Gaiman story, this is apparently a Sandman spinoff and it has the same sexy/horror/supernatural vibe but far livelier.

Take Three Girls, by Cath Crowley, Simmone Howell & Fiona Wood

Clem, Kate and Ady are in Year 10 at St Hilda’s, one Melbourne’s incestuous and insular private schools. With parents working in Singapore, sporty Clem and her nerdy fraternal twin Iris really don’t get along. A swim star, Clem is rethinking her priorities after an injury and an encounter with an attractive older boy. Country girl Kate is another new boarder, keen to get a scholarship and study medicine but torn by her love of music and the alternative possibilities it offers. Ady is a long term day girl with family problems, struggling to reconcile her creative side with her mean girl pack. St Hilda’s has instituted a wellness program to counteract online bullying, which seems inadequate to deal with its toxic impact on the girls. But it serves to bring together three who would otherwise have had little to do with each other and these new, strong friendships help them deal with the online nastiness. The three authors create strong voices for three distinct heroines, who learn a lot about themselves and how to get what they want in life. They also do a good job of blending those voices when the girls interact, although sad twin Iris is left a little underdone. The end of the tale is anticlimactic, fighting hate with flowers solves everything apparently, which is a pity as it’s otherwise a good, contemporary story.

Lockwood & Co - The Screaming Staircase, by Jonathan Stroud

The inspiration for a Netflix series, the Lockwood & Co books tell tales of London ghostbusting agencies staffed by psychic teenagers. For the past 50 years the UK has been plagued by a growing paranormal ‘Problem’. Restless spirits such as poltergeists, wraiths, spectres and stalkers cause fear, despair, death and destruction at night. Sensitive children form a night watch and talented teens armed with salt, iron and silver provide protection for the populace, usually supervised by adults. When Lucy Carlyle flees a tragedy in the north she joins a small independent agency, unfettered by adults – Lockwood & Co. Working with charismatic principal Anthony and his stoic offsider George, Lucy develops her abilities and builds confidence. These are tested by an increasingly dangerous mob of malevolent ghosts, which challenge the valiant three to keep the agency afloat and themselves alive. The book is a tad darker than the series, which is otherwise faithful to the text. It includes some gentle, age appropriate, URST, a nice line in wry humour and an admirable dedication to tea and biscuits.

Yellowface, by Rebecca F Kuang

June Hayward has known Athena Liu since college, but their writing paths since have been very different. Bestselling Athena is a celebrated darling of the literary world while June’s first novel flopped. When Athena suddenly dies, June finds the first draft of her next novel that no-one else has seen. She edits, revises and reworks the story but shared credit is messy and difficult – who would it hurt if June publishes the novel as solely her own? What follows is a horror story of the modern publishing industry and social media, with a side of white privilege. June is both victim and villain, as is Athena, and reader sympathies sway wildly as more information emerges about their experiences and actions. Their love-hate relationship in life and after it underpins an intriguing tale of fear and loathing, deception and success. Told in first person from June’s point of view, Rebecca Kuang does a brilliant job of undermining her narrator by exposing June’s self-deception and wilful misunderstanding of her position. Her blighting depiction of the publishing industry is all too believable, which makes the end of the story triumphantly bleak as June learns to really play the game.