Bean there, done that: Ronin (1998)

I have absolutely no idea when I watched this film. I wouldn’t have seen it at the cinema, so it will have been at home sometime… something like two decades ago??

So, it’s a heist…

  • Sean Bean is Spence, one of the men employed to retrieve a case.
    • He seems to be ex-military, and calls himself “a weapons man.” Pretty sure that’s not an innuendo. At least, not in this context.
  • (It’s a pretty great cast: I am indifferent towards De Niro, myself, but that’s a very young Stellan Skarsgard, and I often love Jean Reno. I recognise Natascha McElhone but I have no idea from where. And Elliot Carver Jonathan Pryce. )
  • He’s English, and has short hair again (I approve). He’s also super nervy, and likes to big-note himself.
  • Suddenly Spence is taking over the gun-buying operation? And he’s very jumpy. This seems like a very bad idea.
    • It was. Sniper on the bridge, everybody shooting… Spence is very cranky. Absolutely no self-control.
    • And then, when they’re back in the car, he’s manic: pleased and excited way out of proportion.
    • And then he vomits. Is he high?
  • I had completely forgotten how epic the driving is in this film. I know it’s what the film is known for, but knowing is different from seeing.
  • Spence then tries to take over the briefing… but Sam / De Niro calls him, and there’s a scuffle, out of which Spence looks very poor. It’s beginning to sound like Spence isn’t the military man he claims to be.
    • And so he is let go. With a stark warning about needing to forget the people he was working for.
    • Wait, is that the end of Sean Bean in this film??

Oh well. Bean has left the building.

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Bean there, done that 2: GoldenEye (1995)

I am well known for being a sucker for James Bond. But this post will be about Alec Trevelyan, I SWEAR.

Having said that, the opening shot – rappelling down a dam wall – is SPECTACULAR.

  • The introduction of Alec, as 006 and speaking Russian and interacting with Bond, is glorious.
    • And once again, Bean is proficient with weapons. There’s a lot of shooting.
  • We’re back to an English accent, and a pretty posh one at that.
    • Also, short hair. A much better look.
  • Alec wanting to be all noble and self-sacrificial… and getting his way, as he gets shot by the Russian officer.
    • “For England!” – what a difference from Patriot Games.
  • (It’s a good thing James Bond lives in an alternate universe where gravity works differently, is all I’ll say about the conclusion to the prologue. Also, Tina Turner’s song is one of the great Bond themes… written by Bono and The Edge??)
  • NINE YEARS LATER…
  • (Famke Janssen deserved better. As did basically every other woman in the Bond franchise, I know. But this is from 1995 and it feels like it’s 1975. Urgh.)
  • (Alan Cummings is hilarious, and provides one of my favourite lines.)
  • We go for quite a long period without seeing Bean again, for all that he’s listed at the top of the film as “starring”.
  • (Eeee Dame Judi! She is absolutely one of the key reasons for why the franchise was able to transition to the 21st century. She’s only 60 in this film.)
  • (Eee Desmond Llewelyn. *Hearts* – he’s 80 in this film.)
  • (And Robbie Coltrane! … such a good cast.)
  • And then BOOM: “hello James” – Alec is back, this time with a scarred face, and is the terrifying arms dealer, Janus, whom Bond has been searching for.
    • Turns out he’s the son of Lienz Cossacks who were betrayed by the British and then died in a murder/suicide; he has been planning for betrayal for years.
    • His posh accent is glorious in this context.
  • Long tank/car chase and we’re finally back to Alec, on a very fancy train (whoa, Snowpiercer connection!).
    • Alec forces his attentions on Natalya, cementing his position as a villain.
  • Bean rocks a suit very well.
  • Seems that Alec is driven more by money than any philosophy or political ideology.
  • And then we’re off to Cuba.
  • Alec has a surprisingly sophisticated set-up for a secret base.
  • He’s far more suave than the Sean of Patriot Games – which is no surprise, given their respective backgrounds.
  • Oh and he’s targeting London? How original. And he’s going to steal all the money from the Bank of England and then wipe all the records via his EMP? uhuh.
  • Villains should know better than to monologue when they have their enemy in their sights.
  • Alec falls off the antenna structure; Bond catches his foot, and then lets him fall, in a nice(?) echo of the opening scene (rappelling down the dam wall).
    • And despite landing on his back from a very great height, what actually kills Alec is the antenna falling on him.

Verdict: Unquestionably A Bad Guy. (He’s presumably been a useful 00 agent for MI6 before his betrayal of the organisation, but he ends his life as an immoral arms dealer and bank robber who is happy to create chaos for money.)

Movies: 2. Beans dead: 2

Bean there, done that: Patriot Games (1992)

I do adore a Jack Ryan movie (usually).

I love the way this film opens with talking about Russia (it’s 1992!!) – especially given The Hunt for the Red October – and then… BAIT AND SWITCH!

OK, this is going to focus on Sean Bean, I swear.

  • I have no idea whether his Irish accent sounds real to the Irish ear, but it’s convincing enough to me.
  • THE HAIR.
  • Oops, Jack killed Sean’s younger brother. That’s not going to end well.
    • How convenient that his character’s name is also Sean (Miller).
  • He’s so young! (Huh; he’s 32 in this film, so… yeh ok, I’m old).
  • Bean does angry very well.
  • They didn’t make him cut his hair in jail? What sort of establishment is this??
  • The blue and yellow jumpsuit does nothing good for Bean’s complexion.
    • Although my, he is awfully skinny.
  • He also does Terrifyingly Feral very well.
  • [Eee, James Earl Jones!]
  • He finally gets a haircut on the ship… I think it’s an improvement.
    • It’s definitely an improvement. Little bit of a crewcut along the bottom of the head – not an undercut, far more military than that.
  • [Eek, Samuel L Jackson! Had completely forgotten he was in this film. Also so young… about 43 years old…]
  • Bean doesn’t really exhibit much range in this film: he’s angry, or upset, or frustrated, or… yeh that’s about all, actually.
  • Movies just don’t do those fades between cut-scenes in the same way any more. More’s the shame.
  • Yikes, disaffected IRA training in the desert… with vaguely Arabic types… oh, early 1990s, you were such a time.
  • The conclusion feels rather cliched today – the royal at Jack’s house (as if), the navy buddy is there as well, the lights go out and the baddies make use of night vision (in the middle of a lightning storm, really?)… but I really like the speed boat chase: it may not look particularly realistic, but it is still pretty awesome. Also, over a lot faster than similar denouements in other, later, films.
  • Bean’s death, impaled on a boat implement of some sort, is vicious.

Bean Verdict: Unquestionably A Bad Guy (slightly ameliorated by the dead brother aspect, but he was already involved in violence before that).

Movies: 1. Beans dead: 1.

Bean there, done that

It’s been a long time since we did a movie-a-thon, and I was suddenly struck by how much fun it would be to do a Sean Bean watch.

So here it is. Unashamedly, we have picked movies that we already know and love, but which we haven’t seen for ages (with two exceptions).

… I’m happy to take suggestions for other movies we should add (not TV, that’s a whole other thing). But you need to give me a good reason.

Mary Darling, by Pat Murphy

Read courtesy of NetGalley and the publisher, it’s out in May.

The Peter Pan/Sherlock Holmes mash-up I didn’t know I needed.

I’m a big fan of taking old stories – especially well-loved ones – and either putting women in, or re-telling the women’s stories to give them more agency, or just flat-out actually making them a character rather than sexy (or maternal) lampshades. Here, Murphy gives life to Mary Darling: wife to George, mother to Wendy, John, and Michael – and previous inhabitant of Neverland, courtesy of Peter Pan. She grew up in Cooktown, Qld; is the niece of Dr John Watson; and is generally awesome.

The story is partly Mary’s story, as she goes off to find her own children – recognising all the signs, as she does, of a Peter Pan abduction – and partly Watson’s story, as he (along with Holmes) follow in Mary’s wake to try and find Neverland. Along the way there are adventures, including other Victorian lady adventurers, and brothel-keepers, and several pirates. There’s also flashbacks to Mary’s childhood, as well as to the experiences of various members of the party: Sam, a South-Sea Islander friend from Mary’s childhood; some of the pirates; the people who become known as Princess Tiger-Lily and her family; and George Darling himself.

Murphy has made Barrie’s (and Conan Doyle’s) much richer by restoring the women and people of colour who would really have existed in London, let alone the rest of the world, to the story. She’s also written a zippy tale of adventure and family and identity that kept me completely enthralled.

Holmes does not come out of this story very well. Nor does Peter Pan. I was naturally reminded of AC Wise’s Wendy, Darling, which is a very different book but likewise asks questions about exactly who, or what, Peter Pan could possibly be.

This was brilliant. Loved all of it.

Wolf’s Path, Joyce Chng

Read courtesy of NetGalley and the publisher, Atthis Arts. It will be out in March.

A collection to mark Chng’s turning 50 this year, this is a collection that embraces the changing nature of the writer over their career: from their earliest published work, through to very recent pieces. Arranged roughly chronologically, the reader gets a sense of how Chng has changed over time – I think the later work is a bit more polished than the earlier pieces, although those early ones are certainly still worth reading. You also get to see some of the consistent themes that Chng keeps coming back to. In particular, questions of what life can and might be like during war pop up several times; and explorations of gender, ethnicity, and identity broadly defined are a consistent presence. And Chng’s experience as a Singaporean is also fundamental to their stories, with many of the stories taking place in either a real or imagined Southeast Asia.

It’s brilliant that Atthis Arts is publishing this retrospective collection. Too often white men get collected early in their careers and everyone else just… doesn’t. Chng’s voice is an example of one that should be highlighted and celebrated.

Upon a Starlit Tide

Read courtesy of NetGalley. It’s out in mid-February.

A simply glorious addition to the world of fairy-tale re-imaginings.

Did I think that mashing Cinderella and The Little Mermaid with a dash of Bluebeard (and a lesser known Breton tale) would work? I had doubts, but I did love Woods’ first novel so I decided to have faith. And it was amply rewarded.

Set in Saint-Malo in 1758, it seemed at first like this is going to be a largely real-world story… until it becomes clear that the Fae exist, although they have appeared less often to mortals in the last generation or two. And Saint-Malo, a coastal town thriving on the revenue of its sailors – both through legit trade and through privateering – is protected by storm-stone, which is also magical in some way.

The focus is Luce, youngest (and adopted) of three daughters of one of Saint-Malo’s chief and richest seamen. Her damaged feet only slightly hamper her determination to get out of the house when everyone else is asleep, to go beachcombing and even sailing with a pair of English smugglers she has befriended. And one day, she rescues a young man from drowning… you can already see some of the fairy-tale shapes here. Woods does a brilliant job of using familiar beats and combining them into an intriguing, captivating, and highly readable story.

I enjoyed Luce, and the stories of her sisters; I was generally delighted by the world (with the usual caveat that it’s not aiming to be an utterly realistic and historical warts n all story, plus it’s about a super wealthy family); I liked the way the Fae are imagined and presented.

I can’t wait to see what Woods does next.

Middle Eastern Feasts

This book was sent by the publisher, Murdoch, at no cost. It’s available now (RRP $39.99).

I can imagine someone telling me that I have enough Middle Eastern cookbooks in my life. They would be wrong.

I have never heard of Kepos Street Kitchen, presumably because I am not a Sydney-sider, so I have no connection with the recipes in this book that are apparently iconic at that restaurant. But that makes no difference in actually browsing and enjoying these recipes, so don’t let that put you off. There is a delicious range of recipes to try, and pretty much all of them are approachable.

Chapters in the book include Brunch, Mezzo, Salads, Feasting, and Dessert. So that was already a good start.

Recipes I have tried:

  • Zucchini, sujuk and labneh omelette: I subbed in locally made chorizo for the sujuk. I think this is more like a frittata than an omelette (it’s finished in the oven) and it was fantastic.
  • Bourekas (Middle Eastern sausage rolls): I was intrigued by this idea. Uncooked mince with some flavourings, rolled in strips of puff pastry and then curled into snails: magnificent.
  • White bean dip: very easy, very tasty.
  • Green beans with goat’s cheese, almonds, and lemon: the perfect way to serve beans. No notes.
  • Za’atar pita bread: I love making bread, and I love za’atar, so this was always going to be a good choice. The pita recipe is very easy.
  • Yemenite pan roti: my one failure. I’m not sure whether it was my fault – maybe the weather was too humid? – but I did also find the instructions a bit hard to follow. Stretching the dough was not as straightforward as it sounded from the instructions, and it wasn’t clear how the folding was actually meant to work. The roti tasted fine but they didn’t have the layers that they should have. I may try this again at some point when I have the nerve.
  • White bean and sumac salad: delicious. Any opportunity to use sumac is a good thing.
  • Broad bean, tomato, and cumin seed salad: without doubt the greatest discovery from this entire book. I grow broad beans every year and am always looking for new ways to use them. Why the title doesn’t also include the preserved lemon which I think is the star is beyond me. I will be making this salad a lot.
  • Hot-smoked salmon and potato salad: another salad I have already made several times. Also includes boiled eggs, olives, sukkah and parsley. The perfect summer salad.
  • Chicken chermoula: it’s just a recipe for chermoula, which is then used as a marinade but it was still pretty good. I also used the chermoula for prawns which was delicious too.
  • Persian meringue cake: I had no idea how this would turn out, and the answer was “unbelievably delicious.” I made halvah to go in it (because I had been wanting to try making it for ages); it ended up too crumbly and so you couldn’t taste it. The recipe calls for a white chocolate glaze and even I, with my insatiable sweet tooth, think that would be a gigantic step too far. When the cake already includes halvah, dates, rosewater and nuts – in a meringue cake – adding white chocolate seems… irresponsible. But I will be making this cake again, oh yes.

This is a delightful cookbook. It’s not particularly breaking new ground, but it does have some delightful flavour combinations, and I am not sad to have it in my library.

The Return

I am a complete sucker for Greek myth films. And even more, I am an utter sucker for films that take bits that have been done less often, and which do so with nuance and a modern sensibility while still keeping true to the original. Nearly impossible? For sure.

The Return manages this with aplomb.

(Spoilers, I guess? If you can spoil a 3000 year old story? Although there are some changes to the ‘original’, which I will discuss.)

The film doesn’t try to cover all of Odysseus’ wanderings – and Troy is covered in a single sentence in the brief introduction. Instead, it opens with Odysseus washed ashore on Ithaka, and Penelope besieged by the suitors. It really only covers a few days – exactly how long is unclear, because Odysseus may have spent a few days in Eummaeus’ cottage, recovering his strength. The narrative moves between several strands. There’s Odysseus, coming to understand what has happened to his island, and Penelope, often at her loom, agonising over what to do and how to look after her sons. Interestingly, there’s quite a focus on the suitors, especially Antinous (the least objectionable on the surface, but shown to be very complex and with a horrible side) and a couple of others, like Pisander (who I spent the whole film trying to place – he was Ricky September in that weird episode of Doctor Who, “Dot and Bubble”). And there’s also Telemachus… and, look. He’s never been a favourite. Ever. I was terrified we’d be subjected to a whole section of him going off and visiting Helen and Menelaus, but thankfully we’re spared that.

This is not an action film. There is action: suitors chasing Telemachus, a couple of fights, and a particularly brutal killing of the suitors. The film is far more interested in conversation, though: discussing what happened at Troy – and whether the Greeks were heroes or not; discussing what Penelope should do; discussing what Telemachus should do; mourning the events on Ithaka.

This is a film that takes Odysseus’ experiences at war seriously, and the reality that a decade of fighting will change a man – and that two decades away from his wife and son will change their relationship. It asks very honestly whether Odysseus can ever truly come home, and how his family can now relate to him. It does not paint Odysseus as a hero, nor laud his accomplishments at Troy. Overwhelmingly, he is tired. He mourns the last two decades; he is remorseful of some of his actions, and fears the future. He’s not yet bitter and angry but you can see it’s a possible outcome.

One of the really interesting changes is that of the “maids” – and I find this particularly intriguing in light of the discussion around them over the last few years, with Emily Wilson’s translation finally making it painfully clear that these women are slaves, not just servants. The choice is to make them almost absent. A few are shown sleeping with (literally and, er, metaphorically) some suitors, but that’s all: no sense of whether they are being compelled, and also no sense of whether all of the women shown are actually members of the household. I guess this is one way to avoid the ‘necessity’ of killing them all at the end.

This is a great film. I appreciate the way it takes Odysseus’ agony seriously. It doesn’t do quite as well with Penelope – it’s not particularly informed by Atwood’s Penelopiad or Claire North’s Songs of Penelope series – but it does give her some agency. Overall, it is an excellent entrant into the halls of Greek myth-inspired films.

City of Dancing Gargoyles

I read this because Ian Mond told me to. I mean, not personally or directly, but he definitely recommended it within my hearing, and I took that to heart. I am very, very glad that I did.

This is not a linear narrative. As I was reading, I was trying to figure out what it reminded me of, and I finally realised: it’s Christopher Priest’s The Islanders. It’s not identical, but there’s a similarity in the way it tells a story through vignettes and moments. It’s got a bit more traditional story-telling thrown in there than the Priest, I’ll admit, but the comparison is still valid. Especially since I loved both.

The book is set at some point in the future – not too far future, there are no galactic empires; but also not quite tomorrow (sometime early in the 2100s-ish). Something… odd… has happened in the USA (insert joke here and then move on); something alchemical, perhaps. Previously inert things have been affected – built things, and natural things. The title gives you a suggestion of one way things have been changed. There are also towns where trees shoot guns, and a city where chocolates glare at you, where books fret, where blankets cringe and candles sob. Why? Absolutely no idea. Part of the story is told in communications between Meena Gupta and Joseph Evans to their boss, Manfred Himmelblau, as they go exploring and reporting on these places. Part of it is the experience of M and E – two gargoyles searching for their place in this new world. And part of it is about Dolores and her mother Rose, who are likewise looking for safety and community.

It’s a beautiful book. It’s about identity, and dealing with change and opposition and the weird, and finding community. It’s somehow also about the things that are already remarkable in our world by imagining how things might go really (really weird). An utter delight.

You can get it from the publisher.