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Legend of the Seeker: Conversion

The one where Kahlan gets a power upgrade...

One of the best things that can happen in fantasy-based stories which feature an intricate set of magical rules is the story itself growing out of this fictional groundswell of world-building that the writer has established.

Of course, it can also go in the other direction, in which random MacGuffins and Deus Ex Machinas are pulled out of thin air in order to get a plot resolved, basing it on the idea that “hey, this is fantasy, anything goes!” This episode of Legend of the Seeker takes a little from column A and a little from column B: they’ve got a fantastic setup that utilizes the power-set of the Confessors and how it can be manipulated, but once our heroes are backed up against the wall, the day is saved by a new super-ability that’s never been mentioned before.

Conversion is very much the second half of Chase’s story, following on from Hartland, even though he only features in the first act of it. Now they’re in search of his family, who have been taken to Keep of Edron for unknown but clearly ominous reasons. We know and like his family (first seen in the show’s premiere) so it’s a suitable level of stakes to hang this episode upon, even when things eventually escalate to our first face-to-face meeting between Richard and Darken Rahl.

Woman of the Month: Catherine Cawood

Catherine Cawood from Happy Valley

Sergeant Catherine Cawood sums up her own characterization within the first few seconds of the premiere of Happy Valley, telling a young man threatening to light himself on fire that: “I'm forty-seven, I'm divorced, I live with my sister who’s a recovering heroin addict. I've two grown up children, one dead, one who don't speak to me and a grandson.”

That’s quite a spiel, but it’s one that instantly tells us what kind of person we’re dealing with. What Catherine doesn’t mention is that her daughter killed herself soon after giving birth, presumably because her child was the product of rape. This led to the fracturing of Catherine’s family: her divorce, her son’s estrangement, and taking on the task of raising her grandson. Oh, and Ryan’s biological father has just been released from prison.

Dark stuff. I binged the first season of Happy Valley within a single night, which lead to a rather exhausting time at work the following day, but it was impossible to reach a cut-off point once the ball started rolling.

In many ways it’s a story about those who take responsibility for their actions, and those that try to deflect blame onto other people. To my reckoning, only two people in the show (Catherine being one) refuse to wallow in self-pity or recriminations, choosing instead to step up into whatever role is required of her. When a kidnapping goes wrong and events start to spiral, Catherine seems to be the only one with a handle on the situation – following leads, trusting her instincts, and throwing herself into danger to save an innocent.

That’s not to say that Catherine is perfect: she’s impatient and abrasive and overly stubborn, but she’s also one of those rare people that you can trust absolutely to always do the right thing, no matter how difficult it is.  

There’s an extraordinary scene about halfway through the season in which the boyfriend of a deceased colleague tries to pin the blame for her death onto Catherine, insisting that her reprimand the previous day put the dead woman into a vulnerable frame of mind that led her to make a bad professional decision. Catherine quietly refuses to accept that burden (despite having floated the idea to herself the night before).

I often get exhausted with the repetitiveness of characters taking the blame for things that aren’t their fault (usually as a lazy way of establishing that they’re “good” people via guilt complexes/self-mortification) and so to see a woman – especially in a story where everyone is constantly flinging blame at each other – refuse to take someone’s death on board her conscience is genuinely gratifying.

Catherine is clearly the inspiration for Kate Winslet’s Mare in Mare of Easttown; both women are middle-aged, no-nonsense, and burdened with responsibilities that the rest of the world choses to ignore. They may not take on these duties with a smile, but it’s with more dignity and compassion than they themselves even realize, without any expectation of recognition or reward.

Like George Eliot once wrote: “For the growing good of the world is partly dependent on unhistoric acts; and that things are not so ill with you and me as they might have been, is half owing to the number who lived faithfully a hidden life, and rest in unvisited tombs.”

Reading/Watching Log #66

The theme of this month was the Middle Ages... give or take a couple of centuries. There’s also plenty of material left over from previous posts that I wanted to catch up on, from a movie that featured in Feud to a graphic novel holdover from last month’s Gothic Horror selection. And I only got through one book, though in my defense it was a Ken Follett, and those things are huge.

Terrifyingly, we are now halfway through the year.

Legend of the Seeker: Hartland

The one with the return-trip home...

Time to dive back into this show! I’m desperate to get to the season finale, which is genuinely one of my favourite episodes of anything, ever – but we gotta get through the mid-season slog first. Okay, I’m exaggerating – these episodes aren’t actually that bad, relatively speaking, and this one involves the time-honoured fantasy tradition of Can’t Go Home Again, in which the hero does in fact go home, only to find that either he or it has been irrevocably changed.

It's very much a chance for the hero to deal with unfinished business, and so we get guest appearances from three previous characters: Jay Laga’aia as Richard’s best friend Chase (what happened to you Jay? You were pretty renowned in New Zealand for a while there), David de Lautour as Michael, Richard’s not-brother who turned on him the first chance he got, and Jessica Chapnik Kahn as Anna, Richard’s ex-girlfriend, which we’ve only seen before as an illusion controlled by Darken Rahl.

Review: Shadow and Bone: Season 1

The Netflix adaptation of Leigh Bardugo’s Shadow and Bone was a viewing event. I’d read all the available books (excepting Rule of Wolves) and put the release date on my calendar, opting to travel to my friend’s house and watch the whole thing across a single weekend (four episodes per night) on his big screen television. I took this seriously!

I’d consider myself a fan of the book series (currently made up of one trilogy and two duologies, plus a smattering of short stories) for their dark fairy tale ambience and moral complexity, especially in Six of Crows and Crooked Kingdom. Leigh Bardugo is a writer who knows her audience, what with her mastery of witty banter, traumatic backstories and shipping tropes, and yet she avoids certain pitfalls of other popular YA writers. There is little in the way of wish fulfilment here, and it’s replaced with a genuine sense of weight when it comes to her subject matter.

The whole thing was ripe for a streaming adaptation, and I sincerely hope that we’ll get the chance to see the entire saga play out, despite the “changing of the guard” when it comes to the protagonists: from Alina to the six Crows to Zoya and Prince Nikolai (not even introduced in the series yet) across the three sets of stories.

We’re off to a good start, with a first season that’s far from perfect, but which has a decent budget, an engaging premise, and spot-on casting. Seriously, everyone looks and behaves exactly like their book counterparts – even when some creative liberties have been taken. Alina and Mal were white in the books, and are here played by bi-racial actors, yet they embody their characters so perfectly I won’t be able to picture anyone but Jessie Mei Li and Archie Renaux in the roles from now on.

This rather negative (but fair) review points out that you can tell the show is YA by the way the material focuses on relationships over world-building, with romantic complications and love triangles taking precedence over what could have potentially been a genuinely fascinating political setup. I’ll delve more into that later, but watching the show and being aware of its target audience had the unexpected side-effect of making me feel old for the first time in my life.

Which is ridiculous since I’m still younger than Ben Barnes – and yet when I last skyped my sister and mentioned watching it, she (totally unprompted) said: “it made me realize I’m not a teenager anymore.” So it obviously had the same effect on other people too!

Even the show itself seems oddly self-conscious about the fact only one significant cast member is over the age of forty-five, to the point where a joke is made in which Jesper has to impersonate someone significantly older than him, and is indignant that anyone could think he would pass for that age – only for a snide official to tell him: “I thought you were older.”

The joke falls completely flat, since... my God, they’re CLEARLY all children! And to add another layer of irony on top of that, these actors are STILL at least a DECADE older than the characters they play in the books! Matthias is meant to be the only legal adult at eighteen!

So, if you plan on recommending this to co-workers or friends, do as I did and add the disclaimer that it’s the most YA thing they’ll ever see and may induce a premature mid-life-crisis.

Woman of the Month: Inej Ghafa

Inej Ghafa from Shadow and Bone

Having enjoyed Leigh Bardugo’s “Grishaverse” books (man I hate that term though) I knew I was going to have a good time with the Netflix adaptation of her first book, Shadow and Bone. What was most fascinating to me was the choices made by showrunner Eric Heisserer, who insisted that he be allowed to bring several characters into the story that aren’t actually present in the trilogy – rather, they’re the main characters of the sequel duology Six of Crows and Crooked Kingdom.

It’s easy to understand why this was a condition of his employment: the duology is a much more complex and polished work of fiction, and the characters less drawn from the typical YA mould (plucky heroine, broody villain, childhood best friend).

Among these characters is Inej Ghafa, who is safe to say, the fandom darling. And let’s be brutally honest here guys – it’s very rare that a brown girl ever becomes the undisputed favourite in fandom. Usually it’s difficult enough for female characters period to become so popular, yet Inej seems to be one of those rare “golden” characters that are universally beloved.

I recall actress Amita Suman saying in an interview that she was excited about playing Inej because the character was written as non-white (in the Grishaverse, her race is known as Suli) as opposed someone who was race-lifted to increase the diversity quota*, and was therefore a character who belonged to her entirely.

I get that, and Inej is certainly a gift to any actress, not only in getting to do loads of cool stuff (acrobatics, knife-throwing, stunt-work) but in the darkness of the backstory she’s given, and the way in which her every word, action and decision is a journey away from the trauma it has inflicted on her. In many ways she reminds me of Max from Black Sails; another young woman who has endured sexual violence, but who makes a clear and determined decision – over and over again – that she will not let it change her inherent goodness.

But as it happens, the show (like the book) is very lightweight when it comes to depicting the full extent of Inej’s suffering. I watched this show with a friend who had no foreknowledge of the books, and he didn’t pick up the fact she was captured as a slave, separated from her family, and made into an indentured sex worker. On the one hand, I can understand why the show (and Bardugo herself) wouldn’t want to delve too deeply into the horrors of this; on the other... well, like I said – it’s left extremely unclear just what the Menagerie is and why Inej is so desperate to escape it.

But Amita Suman carries the trauma of Inej’s time there in everything she says and does. She’s always controlled and contained, but there’s so much sadness in her eyes and the expressions on her face. I honestly think she put in the best performance, all the more so because it wasn’t as showy as her main screen partners, Freddy Carter and Kit Young, which meant she was putting more work in.

And Heisserer even finds the space to weave in a clear arc for her to follow: namely that her religious conviction makes her hesitant about kidnapping someone she believes is a living saint, and that she must confront her reluctance to kill when the people she cares about are on the line.

They’re both unique to the show, and therefore not perfectly integrated with the rest of the plot, but it provides her with a thoroughfare that can be picked up on later down the track (just as they seeded Jesper’s gambling problems and explored Kaz’s proclivity as a flawed genius who will one day concoct the Ice Court heist – he succeeded here largely through luck, but you can tell he’s learning as he goes).

The best part is that, having read the books, there’s some fantastic material ahead of her. Let’s just hope they make it that far.

* This is not a dig at Jessie Mei Li and the choice to make Alina half-Shu. They did some interesting things with that casting decision and how it affected her character, but at the same time I can understand why Amina Suman would make these comments about how Inej is portrayed in the book itself.