Reading/Watching Log #47

Finished a ton of stuff this November, though a lot of it was started in October (or earlier) and took a while to work through. But it's been a good month, with all my favourite subjects: girl detectives, eerie fairy tales, suspenseful thrillers, period dramas, and at least one Disney princess.

Swan Lake (Isaac Theatre Royal)

I had tickets to this booked for the better half of the year, so it felt great to finally settle down and see what must surely be the most famous ballet of all time. And for the first time ever, I was in the front row! (Close enough to see the sweat).

At the risk of sounding weird, watching ballet is almost like a spiritual experience for me. It never fails to leave me feeling replenished and inspired, and this was no exception. And Swan Lake in particular is always going to be mysterious and awe-inspiring, even if this version decided to go for a happy ending instead of the usual tragedy.

But the smoke machine was there, along with the perfect synchronicity of the cygnet dance and the role of Odette and Odile played by a single performer. She did incredibly well, with Odette played as pensive and Odile as sly: you could tell that they were two different women by her expression alone.

As it happens, I went with my work friend who had never seen a ballet before I took her to The Nutcracker last Christmas, and now she's as enthusiastic as I am: we've already got tickets for The Sleeping Beauty next year!

Zeraffa Giraffa by Dianne Hofmeyr and Jane Ray

Jane Ray is one of my favourite illustrators, and this takes an extraordinary true story and gives it a beautiful fairy tale quality. In 1824 a baby giraffe was captured on the orders of the Egyptian Pasha Muhammad Ali with the intention of presenting it as a gift for the King of France, Charles X.

It took two and a half years to transport the giraffe - called Zeraffa - from Egypt to France: down the River Nile, across the Mediterranean Sea, and then from Marseilles to Paris on foot. She was very first giraffe ever seen in France, so naturally you can imagine the stir she made.

Jane Ray's illustrations are as rich as expected: the turquoise of the Nile to the cobalt of the night sky - she's so good at colour, and my favourite picture would have to be Princess Louise Marie Therese and Zeraffa's trainer Atir (both young children) sitting together with Zeraffa under the stars, the journey finally at its end.

The Tempest by Georghia Ellianas and Jane Ray

Another Jane Ray offering, with everything I love about her work. The story itself is difficult to condense into a child's story (Shakespeare's plots weren't exactly simple) and Ellianas opts to tell it through the perspective of Arial, which kinda works. On the one hand, he's the obvious choice. On the other, he's very reactive throughout the entire thing, with all his agency wrapped up in Prospero's commands.

As such, a lot of the story feels like it's being explained to us, rather than experienced. The selling point is Jane Ray's illustrations, and they're glorious. Arial with his feathery clothing, spirited Miranda in her red pantaloons, the golden stars, the azure seas, the verdant wildlife - you just want to dive into the pictures. She's perfectly suited to this material, everything is so lush and colourful, and she brings a real fairy tale quality to Shakespeare's work.

Monstress: Volume 4 by Marjorie Liu and Sana Takeda

At this point the plot of Monstress is so complex and intricate that it's nigh-impossible to summarize it properly. I had difficulty just reading it and trying to keep track of who the supporting characters are, what they wanted, and how they fit into the story. What's an Arcanic again?

The drawcard is the incredible artwork by Sana Takeda, who has created an aesthetic that's best described as a steampunk/art deco/Asian-Egyptian mash-up. I promise you've never seen anything like it before, and even if you find the story incomprehensible, it's worth it just to feast your eyes on the world she's created.

In this volume protagonist Maika and the ancient demon that resides inside her finally meet the man who claims to be her father. In a series and society that has been staunchly feminist and matriarchal (respectively) this left me a bit ho-hum, though the man who calls himself Lord Doctor is clearly not to be trusted.

War is brewing on the horizon between several factions I cannot hope to discern, but on the whole this issue feels more like a transition than a continuation. The characters are shuffled around, questions are (partially) answered, and you feel as though things are being brought to the brink of something. It's also a great volume for Kippa - after being a tagalong kid for so long, she's finally starting to act with bravery and cunning.

You should read Monstress for two reasons: the stunning artwork and the overwhelming range of female characters - good and bad, young and old, rich and poor. It's exhilarating, but just make sure you start back with volume one.

Shadows of the Dark Crystal by J.M. Lee

A prequel to the prequel, that sounds about right. My fascination with The Dark Crystal universe hasn't even begun to wear off, and this seemed like an appropriate tie-in to the Netflix miniseries (and there are apparently three more books in the series).

I was quite interested though to note that this was published in 2016, which is quite a long time before the Netflix show aired just year. And yet it remains consistent with what happened in the show itself, even focusing on one of the characters that featured there (Naia of the Drenchen Clan, as voiced by Hannah John-Kamen).

In this story we get more of Naia's background as the daughter of the Maudra in the swamplands, learning that her brother Gurjin has been accused of treason by the Skeksis and disappeared along with his friend Rian. She takes it upon herself to find her brother and investigate this charge, discovering along the way that the world is much stranger and wild than she ever knew.

Obviously, this is happening co-currently with the events of the show, though I wonder how the next three books are going to handle things - and like I said, it's rather odd that this book was accessible to people three years before the show was released, as it does give away some of its plot-points.

It's reasonably well-written, with a strong understanding of the beauty and geography of Thra, as well as the Gelfings' matriarchal societies and the dangers posed by the Skeksis. It's not essential, but it definitely scratched that Dark Crystal itch.

The Mystery of the Clockwork Sparrow and The Mystery of the Jewelled Moth by Katherine Woodfine

 Last year I made my way through Robin Stevens's Murder Most Unladylike and Jordan Stratford's The Wollstonecraft Detective Agency series, and it's obvious that I have a soft-spot for young detectives (especially if they're girls, especially if they're set in the past).

The Sinclair Mysteries are written in the same vein as the above two series, with four books in all (the remaining two are sitting on my shelf). Sophie Taylor and Lilian Rose are two employees of the newly-opened Sinclair's Department Store, who find themselves in the midst of an investigation after a priceless clockwork sparrow is stolen from their boss.

To make matters worse, Sophie is one of the prime suspects given that she was in the store after closing hours, and she can't afford to lose her position at the store. Helping the girls are Billy Porter, an apprentice porter trying to keep on the good side of his uncle, and Joe, a young vagrant on the run from his former gang members.

The second book ties in quite closely with the first, with an least one villainous character reappearing not only with a much grander and more dastardly plan, but a connection to one of our detectives. The second book also introduces a young girl called Mei who lives in Chinatown, with a mystery involving a missing gemstone that once belonged to her grandfather's village.

The setting is particularly good, as between the four main characters we get a look at the entirety of Sinclair's Department Store, from the beauty and luxury of its main floors, to the more industrial stables and cellars. Though the mysteries aren't particularly brilliant, the setting is fascinating; a hub of activity and gossip, rivalry and challenges, where people from all walks of life can converge.

Eagle Strike by Anthony Horowitz

The fourth book in the Alex Rider series continues its commitment to being fairly dark, in this case pitting Alex against a foe that has fame, wealth and popularity on his side, and making him do so entirely without the assistance of MI5. This is Alex on his own, acting of his own volition after recognizing enemies from his previous missions while on vacation in the south of France and realizing they're up to no good.

The assorted clues point to Damian Cray, a celebrity/philanthropist/billionaire, who is about to launch a state-of-the-art games console. It's a fun ride throughout, with plenty of nonsensical James Bond villainy (in this case, Alex ends up as a matador in a bullfight) and the usual assortment of gadgets to help him out. What sets Eagle Strike apart is that this time around Alex takes the initiative to investigate matters on his own. It would appear that for all his complaining, the espionage lifestyle has seeped into his blood.

American housekeeper Jack Starbright gets a bit more to do this time around, but then there's the issue of Sabina Pleasure, the blatant Bond Girl analogy. Horowitz never crosses the line into sleaziness, but her overtly sexual name and descriptive passages such as "she was the sort of girl who had probably swapped toys for boys before she hit eleven" and "she was wearing a bikini made out of so little material that it hadn't bothered with a pattern" are... questionable. Did I mention she was fifteen?

Even more annoying is that her role in this book is to lash out at Alex when he tries to insist he has ties to MI5, storming off in a huff and later getting kidnapped by the bad guys in order to extort Alex into doing their bidding. Why is this relevant? Because I was working through Pennyworth at the same time as I was reading this book, and guess what happens to Esme Winikus (Alfred's girlfriend) in the pilot episode of that show? THE EXACT SAME THING. It's not so much a coincidence as an indictment of how limiting the roles of female characters are when in the hands of certain male authors.

Still, some hints are dropped as to the true nature of Alex's father, which should prove fruitful in later books...

The Rise of Kyoshi by F.E. Lee

The second of two franchise tie-in novels I read this month (see The Dark Crystal above) is surprisingly, even shockingly, good. Delving into the past lives of the titular character in Avatar: The Last Airbender was always my favourite part of the show, and this prequel focuses on one of the most notorious: Avatar Kyoshi.

She was the Earth Kingdom based Avatar who lived directly prior to Avatar Roku, which canon tells us was extremely tall, very long-lived, suffered no fools, and was the founder of both the Dai Li and the Kyoshi Warriors, which each play fairly significant roles in Aang's story.

If you don't understand any of that, it's because this book is fully intended for those who are already familiar with the cartoon. During the show's broadcast, Kyoshi became one of its most intriguing and popular minor characters, showcased in a season two episode called Avatar Day, and getting a few more little cameos before and after. But we only ever saw her in her prime, as a powerful and respected Avatar.

This book covers Kyoshi in her childhood and adolescence, where she's still struggling to get a handle on her own identity, power and expectations. Even more surprising is that it isn't Kyoshi who has been identified as the new Avatar after the untimely death of her predecessor Kuruk. His old friends believe that a young man called Yun is the new Avatar, even though he hasn't been able to demonstrate any type of bending but earth-bending.

The novel can be neatly divided into two parts: the first deals with Kyoshi's early life, in which she's taken into the Avatar's household as a servant only to realize in horror that she might be the true Chosen One, and the second when she goes on the run after the secret gets out. Her impoverished childhood and neglectful parents are touched upon, as is her bisexuality and struggle to use her abilities responsibly.

There are allies and antagonists aplenty, particularly Jianzhu, a well-connected mentor and friend to Kuruk who has made it his life's mission to find the next reincarnation and mold him/her into an Avatar to serve the entire world (which unsurprisingly, align exactly with his own intentions). His attempts to bring Kyoshi under his control don't totally vilify him, but throw up a number of ethical conundrums throughout the book that don't have easy answers.

But it's Kyoshi herself who lies at the heart of this story, and she proves to be a fascinating character. Her height makes her self-conscious but also confident. She despises her parents for abandoning her, yet comes to a greater understanding of them in time. She hates the idea of being the Avatar, but revels in the power it affords her. I was surprised at how complex she was, and how wonderfully Lee's prose brings her to life.

He's also clearly well-versed in the universe created by Bryan Konietzko and Mike DiMartino, touching on issues that could only ever exist in this world, and which never came up in either of the shows - like for example, the difficulties in finding each new Avatar, and asking what happens if he/she can't be found, or if the wrong person is identified. The ramifications are far-reaching in ways that had never really occurred to me.

Tie-in novels can often be safely dismissed as cash-grabs, but The Rise of Kyoshi is a genuinely good work of fiction that was clearly born out of true interest in the character and the world she inhabits. Looking forward to the next one.

Notorious (1946)

My foray into Hitchcock's back-catalogue continues, with this spy/thriller noir set just after World War II, in which American agents are tracking down remaining Nazis. Alicia Huberman is the American-born daughter of a convicted Nazi, recruited by her country to infiltrate a surviving group of Nazis in Rio de Janeiro which includes a friend of her father who was once romantically interested in her.

Yet despite the above synopsis, this isn't really her film. It's told largely through the perspective of Agent Devlin, the American agent who recruits her, falls in love with her, and then sends her off to seduce his arch-nemesis. Much of the film's tension comes from his agony that the woman he loves is off with another man, and his inability to reconcile his love for her to the reality of her "promiscuous" behaviour (or to realize that everything she's doing is out of love for him).

Yes, it's that old story, though it's played with more weight and less slut-shaming than you'd expect from a film directed by Hitchcock in the 40s. Of course, part of this is down to the time in which it was released, which naturally makes only the vaguest references towards sex (the climax takes place in Alicia and Sebastian's bedroom, which contains two beds).

In a way it's a good thing, as modern remakes of this film would no doubt make it as sordid and sleazy as possible; here things are only inferred, even as Hitchcock found a way to get around the Production Code's strict three-second kissing rule.

It contains his usual mastery of suspense, as when Devlin hurriedly replaces a smashed bottle in the wine cellar, or Sebastian realizes what his wife is up to, so it's definitely a must-watch.

Dial M For Murder (1954)

I was fifteen minutes into this one when I realized I had seen the premise played out in A Perfect Murder, which was an inferior nineties remake. Damn remakes, ruining things for everyone! Still, despite knowing how things were going to pan out, this was a fun ride, all the more impressive for being almost entirely set in a single apartment.

Tony Wendice has discovered that his wife has had an affair, and decides to punish her (and inherit her fortune) by blackmailing/paying an old university friend to murder her while he establishes an alibi elsewhere. Leaving his key so the killer can get into the apartment, Tony tells the man to strike when his wife answers the telephone (which naturally, he will ring at the right time).

I won't give away much more (because hey, that's what A Perfect Murder did already) but again I was surprisingly impressed that Grace Kelly's character - the cheating wife - wasn't villanized for her extra-marital affair. She gets less to do than she did in Rear Window, but Tony is the bad guy through-and-through, and the film doesn't frame her ordeal with any kind of vindictive glee.

To Catch a Thief (1955)

This was the third of Hitchcock's films I watched this month and definitely my least favourite. Cary Grant is John Robie, a retired cat burglar living on the French Riviera. When a string of thefts occur among the wealthy guests, he's suspect number one, and so after evading the police he takes it upon himself to find the real criminal and clear his name.

In doing so, he meets the glamourous Jessie Stevens and her daughter Frances (played by Grace Kelly), a young woman who not only figures out Robie's true identity, but promptly decides to seduce him into letting her become his partner... at least until she accuses him of stealing her mother's jewels.

What's missing from the film is the suspense that Hitchcock usually had such mastery over. It's not that things aren't entertaining, but there's no sense of urgency or danger. For instance, the police are only a threat when required - they're easily outwitted and out-run. And without being too worried about the possibility of Robie being incarcerated, there's not much reason to care about rich people getting their jewels stolen, especially when it's a plot-point that they're all insured.

To be honest, by the end of it all I was rooting for the cat burglar.

Pocahontas (1995)

This was the next on the list of Disney Princess films that I've been watching with my Disneyless-childhood friend since the beginning of this year, and I have to say I was dreading it to the point of nearly skipping it.

But I'm nothing if not a completist, so we settled down to watch Disney's portrayal of English settlers arriving in the New World and their interactions with the First Nation people already there. It was not possible to type that sentence without cringing.

Okay look, I'll give them this: I believe this film was made with a genuine desire to do right by its premise, the historical figure at its centre, and everyone else involved, from the artists to the audience. But it's such a weird film in so many ways, starting with the fact it grafts the Disney Princess brand (free spirit, talks to animals, bursts into song) onto a real person.

Despite the relative accuracy with which they depict the Powhatan people, there's still a very nineties decision to give them mystical powers, in which they are attuned to nature, form images out of smoke, and talk to trees. PLUS at the heart of the story is a romance between Pocahontas and John Smith (in real life, she was ten and he was twenty-seven), which not only triggers conflict between the English and Native Americans, but ensures its resolution as well.

And with that, the violence between the two groups was ended forever! Thanks Disney!

Yeah, it's a bit of a mess. As much as I can appreciate the beautiful animation and the fact that Billy Connelly lent his voice to one of the settlers (something I did not realize until this most recent viewing) I don't think I'll be returning to this one any time soon.

Last Christmas (2019)

I saw this just last night as an end-of-year treat for my work colleagues, even though only two of us turned up. Ah well. The moment the trailer for this hit the internet, everyone knew the premise. Heck, it's spelt out in the title, which is derived from the George Michael song, of which opening lyrics are: "last Christmas, I gave you my heart."

Throw in Emilia Clarke with a heart condition and a gorgeous Henry Golding who is always wearing the same outfit and doesn't interact with anyone else in the cast, and it doesn't take a genius to put two-and-two together. So yes, it's predictable and trite and not even the movie itself seems particularly impressed with its "twist" considering the reveal comes so casually that it almost wraps around to being funny.

But I can't help but feel Emilia Clarke took this role in order to recover from the nightmare of Game of Thrones. Heck, if you squint you can almost see this as an AU coda to Daenerys's story, in which a quasi-selfish but ultimately compassionate girl with a heart problem learns to reclaim her life, find happiness, and help others. It feels like a balm, and who can blame her for choosing it?

In all others ways, it's fairly ho-hum. Emma Thompson plays Emila's nightmarish mother, there's a closeted gay sister, they take some shots at Brexit, and the climax takes place at a homeless shelter where absolutely no one is depressed, violent or suicidal. Honestly, the most interesting dynamic in the whole thing is between Clarke and her employer, played by Michelle Yeoh. I would have liked to see more of that.

But Clarke is so adorable and has such great comedic timing; she pretty much carries the whole thing on her shoulders. This is clearly the genre she was made for, so I hope better material comes her way soon.

The X-Files: Season 2 (1994)

I've been watching this sporadically over the past few months, and I'm not entirely sure what to say about it that I didn't already say back in 2017. I wasn't allowed to watch it when I was a kid (though my dad was a big fan) so I'm extremely late to the party, and well-aware that there is no satisfying pay-off for many of the story arcs that are established.

It makes for an odd viewing experience considering I have no real reason to become invested in the "myth-arc" episodes, and the one-shot standalone episodes have been copied so many times by other shows in the two decades since this first aired that they seem rather quaint by comparison.

But there's some good material here: along with the usual UFO/government conspiracy theory stuff, there are forays into cannibalism, devil worship, invisible animals and vampires. It doesn't aways work, and some have dated badly (Excelsis Dei - yikes!) but it's such an eclectic mix of subjects and tone that it's consistent in its ability to entertain.

It's the chemistry between Gillian Anderson and David Duchovny that really lights up the show, even though Scully's general awesomeness is blunted by the constant need to damsel her so that Mulder can be thrown into a heartwarming state of panic. I could tolerate it early on, when Scully is kidnapped by an escaped psychiatric patient who claims to have been abducted by aliens (it's a story that stretches over several episodes and takes into account mental and physical trauma) but in the one-shot episodes it just gets tiresome.

Outlander: Season 2 (2016)

What made me return to Outlander? I wasn't hugely taken with the first season given all the sexual violence, but one day I woke up and just had a craving for time-travelling Scottish period dramas. Of course, most of this season takes place in Paris, but that's just a good excuse to dress the cast in extravagant costumes.

There is a slight semblance of an overarching plot, in which Clare and Jamie attempt to change history by avoiding the Battle of Culloden, but since the first episode depicts Clare returning to her own time and learning that they failed, it's obvious that the show wants you to be more interested in all the obstacles along the way: Jamie's PTSD, the French court intrigues, the return of Black Jack Randall, and Clare's first miscarriage.

The production values are sky-high and the cast is pretty engaging, but I can't say I'm hugely invested. As always Diana Gabaldon's use of rape as a plot device is deeply troublesome (things  are less graphic this time around, though a side-effect of this is that two of the extremely young victims of sexual violence aren't given any of the narrative time or space that Jamie was in regards to their suffering and recovery).

But there are some great side characters, such as Claire Sermonne as a French courtier and Frances de la Tour as a healer/nun - despite the inevitable presence of a few nasty bitches, I'm grateful that the show understands the need for trust and companionship between women. And hey, Andrew Gower! What are the odds that I would see him here at the same time I started watching Carnival Row, in which he pretty much plays the exact same character.

Sanditon (2019)

Believe it or not, I had no idea Jane Austen had left an unfinished novel until the trailers for this began appearing. Much like Dickens's The Mystery of Edwin Drood, it's up to other authors to finish what Austen started, though what screenwriter Andrew Davies delivers is an extremely mixed bag.

I think any attempt to finish an uncompleted story should make an effort to stay true to the original author's tone, theme and general content, and in that regard I can say with a high degree of confidence that Austen would not have written two of her characters hate-fucking on the parlour floor.

I also wasn't remotely impressed by the courtship between protagonist Charlotte Heyworth and dark-and-brooding Sidney Parker, who is a pretty awful person all things considered. It's clear Davies is trying to recapture the Elizabeth/Darcy romance without totally understanding what it is that made the two of them such a timeless love story. Sidney is awful to Charlotte: he negs her constantly, is relentlessly rude, and generally makes her uncomfortable every time he's in the vicinity.

Yes, Darcy says of Elizabeth: "she's handsome enough I suppose, but not handsome enough to tempt me", but a fairly crucial component of this is that he DOESN'T say it TO HER FACE. Elizabeth was also confident enough to take Darcy's nonsense in her stride, but here Charlotte is so vulnerable and powerless that she's constantly on the backfoot.

It's just unpleasant, especially when Charlotte has a second suitor who is everything Sidney isn't: kind, hard-working, respectful and pretty damn gorgeous. But no, let's go with the guy who spends most of the show treating her like shit. *deep beleagured sigh*

And yet alongside this is a subplot involving Charlotte Spencer (last seen in The Living and the Dead) that works brilliantly. It slides right into Gothic territory when we realize she's in love with her stepbrother who treats her like garbage, with the two of them scheming to inherit their imperious aunt's fortune after her death, but at some point the relentless attention of Mark Stanley's Lord Babington become unexpectedly charming.

Most of the time a man who doesn't take no for an answer and continues to press his advantage is a major red flag (especially when he's initally introduced as a smarmy jerk) but somehow it works. On reflection, it's because Esther desperately needs someone who won't give up on her, to shake her out of her lethagy, as she's so entrenched in the toxic hold her stepbrother has over her that any half-hearted measures to free her simply won't work.

Another interesting component is the character of Georgiana Lambe, a young black woman who was described as such in Austen's manuscript. Not knowing what she planned for this character is perhaps the biggest disappointment of the unfinished story, though she's given a decent enough arc here.

It also ends on a note that promises a second season, which I don't think anyone was expecting when they started watching (and which as far as I know, hasn't been confirmed yet). Like I said - mixed bag.

Poldark: Season 5 (2019)

Another show comes to an end! Poldark managed a respectable five seasons, though as I understand it this final season veered wildly from Winston Graham's book series, which skipped a lengthy period of time so he could pick things up with the second generation of Poldarks and Warleggans as young adults.

I suppose on the one hand it gives screenwriter Debbie Horsfield the opportunity to write her own story in the midst of Graham's, largely focusing on the abolishment of the slave trade and the trouble Ross gets into when one of his old army comrades is wrongly imprisoned. It's... fine I guess, though the last two episodes drop all this in order to focus on a French invasion, which has nothing at all to do with anything else in the season. Interesting choice.

But there's some good stuff here: Ross and Demelza are finally on the same page, George gets some long-deserved comeuppance, Caroline remembers that she's awesome, and Drake and Morwenna finally find their happiness. There's one last cute cameo from Robin Ellis, who played Ross in the original BBC series, though sadly no appearance from Verity.

If nothing else, it's got me curious about the books. I mean, there's got to be something big on the horizon for Valentine Warleggan, given all the dire portents that surrounded his birth.

The Crown: Season 3 (2019)

I blitzed through this over the course of three days, and (given its budget and prestige) was pretty much what you would expect. The new cast transition nicely from the old one, with Olivia Colman and Tobias Menzies as the obvious standouts as Elizabeth and Philip. As with the past two seasons, it's less of a serialized story as it is a look at certain events in the lives of the royals, with each episode largely existing as a standalone story.

This has its ups and downs. On the one hand, it allows each episode to focus on its own themes, content and story. On the other, it means plenty of interesting events are ignored, and some characters disappear entirely till they're needed again. This is especially true of Princess Anne, easily the most entertaining part of the season, whose life is barely touched upon. Can you believe they skipped the attempted kidnapping? And yet gave us Prince Philip's midlife crisis? That's... quite a choice.

Princess Margaret and Prince Charles also get some focus, both deeply miserable in their own ways, and living out very strange lives in the public eye. You're never quite sure whether to feel sorry for them or not: they're each drenched in wealth and privilege (with the self-absorption you'd expect), and yet you can't deny that this hasn't done anything to make them happy.

But I learned plenty from this, particularly the tragedy of Aberfan, which is devastatingly recreated here. That's an episode that will stick with you for a long time.

She Ra: Season 4 (2019)

My pedantic side feels the need to point out that season four of She Ra is actually season three, what with the second season being broken up into two halves. But I was delighted to find that this is a complete thirteen episodes, with an uninterrupted story arc and character development for all.

And this is really Glimmer's season. After the death of her mother, she's crowned queen of Bright Moon and naturally struggles with the new set of responsibilities. She wants to be out in the field with Adora and Bow, but her new status means that she's too precious an asset to endanger. So now it's just board room meetings and party plannings for her.

This is also a good season for Scorpia, whose fraught relationship with Catra finally spurs her into taking drastic action, and a full episode is devoted to the sad story of Mara, the past She Ra. And Beast Island finally comes into play, with Adora and Bow mounting a rescue mission for Entrapta, and discovering someone else is stranded there too...

There are some low points: Netossa and Spinerella get a sliver of more focus than usual, but they're still treated as minor characters (where's their episode??) and despite Adora and Bow spending more time with each other than anyone else this season, the opportunity to build a unique friendship between them isn't taken. There's a cute hug at the end, but they spend most of the time talking about Glimmer.

It ends on a fantastic note, with Glimmer and Catra stranded on the spaceship of Hordak Prime, a situation ripe with potential. No doubt they'll have to work together in order to survive their shared captivity, and it appears Catra has already realized they'll need each other. That's gonna be a great dynamic moving forward...

Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego?: Season 2 (2019)

This show is feather-light compared to She Ra, but it's still a fun, quick watch. In this second season Carmen has established her alliance with Shadow San, and together the two of them are working against the crime syndicate V.I.L.E. Also along for the ride are Brooklyn siblings Zack and Ivy, remote computer-hacker Player, and occasional appearances from young agents in the organization, dead-set on capturing Carmen.

As you might expect from a show based on the Carmen Sandiego game, there's a lot of emphasis on countries and geography, with a little aside each episode that gives a rundown of some facts on whatever place Carmen is visiting next. And believe it or not, she not only visits New Zealand this season, but also utilizes a performance of Swan Lake during one of her heists. What are the odds?

The highlight of the show is Ivy and Zack, and though they're depicted a bit more clownishly than in the nineties cartoon, they're still imminently loveable.