Good Omens, Series 2
by Neil Gaiman & John Finnemore
dir. Douglas Mackinnon (Amazon Prime, 2023)
Without source material tangling its roots, Good Omens blossoms into a gloriously satirical excoriation of biblical schtick and the whole good versus evil dichotomy. Aziraphale and Crowley make for one of TV’s great odd couples. Michael Sheen puts in a bravura performance.
Star Wars: Doctor Aphra, Vol. 1: Fortune and Fate
by Alyssa Wong; ill. Marika Cresta (Marvel, 2021)
Serviceable archaeological adventure. Aphra seems a fairly overt attempt to create a female Han Solo (with some Indiana Jones thrown in). Her antihero shtick would count for more if everyone else weren’t also double-crossing each other. Nice blend of murk and colour.
The Hexologists
by Josiah Bancroft (Orbit, 2023)
audiobook read by Sarah Slimani (Hachette, 2023)
First impression: artless, and heavy with exposition. The book does improve somewhat (mostly due to the personalities of hexologists Iz and Warren Wilby). At best, however, it’s still just a time-filler, a cosy enough fantasy mystery but nothing to write home about.
Lucifer, Season 5
(Netflix, 2020-2021)
Slick as ever, with genuinely laugh-out-loud incidental humour. While the regular characters have become a bit too cosy for drama, God and Michael are astute additions. The writers continue to innovate within single episodes. Tremendous fun, though biggering towards its own demise.
Throne of Glass
by Sarah J. Maas (Bloomsbury, 2012)
audiobook read by Elizabeth Evans (Bloomsbury, 2021)
Maas empowers her protagonist only to lose her in paint-by-numbers world-building, a sputtering plot and—most egregiously—a Bermuda love-triangle drawn and redrawn with the mutability (and consequence) of an open-ended rock, paper, scissors game. A readable enough debut but majorly overhyped.
Unforgotten, Series 5
by Chris Lang (ITV, 2023)
If anything, Series 5 is even grimmer than its predecessors. Lang continues to eschew not only happy endings but also the possibility of redemption without facing up to past sins. Even Sinéad Keenan’s introduction as DCI James is a study in trauma.
The Quantum Thief
by Hannu Rajaniemi (Gollancz, 2010)
audiobook read by Scott Brick (Macmillan, 2011)
Mind-bending SF that readers are left to unpack largely without assistance. Rajaniemi adopts a non-expository, sink-or-swim approach that is more refreshing than frustrating (though also at times rather gratuitous). Brick’s audiobook narration carries a noir-ish detachment that plays to the quasi-virtual setting.
Mechanic: Resurrection
dir. Dennis Gansel (2016)
A paint-by-numbers James Bond pastiche complete with gadgets on tap, instantaneous transport, nonsensical motivations and missions, instalove, and of course some gratuitous sunbathing (and underwater wiggling) from a bikini-clad Jessica Alba, whose character was bemired in despair until the cameras started rolling.
The Cartoonist
by Betsy Byars (The Bodley Head, 1978)
A downbeat exploration of emotional neglect and escapism. Byars is deft as a cartoonist herself in capturing Alfie’s circumstances: his drifting isolation from family and peers; his retreat into drawing and his nihilistic attic ascent. Not exactly a fun read, but affecting.
The Complete Peanuts: 1969 to 1970
by Charles M. Schulz (Canongate, 2008)
Schulz by second decade’s turn has mastered his craft, both from a technical viewpoint (those facial expressions!) and as an observer of life. The strips here contain a little too much Snoopy and Woodstock, but it’s a good period for Charlie Brown.