Great-Uncle Harry: A Tale of War and Empire
by Michael Palin (Penguin, 2023); audiobook read by Michael Palin (Penguin Audio, 2023)
Palin argues for his great uncle’s relevance but doesn’t really succeed. Assiduous research has seduced him into including too much detail about Harry’s parents, while the lengthy section on military service, illuminating of the First World War more generally, lacks biographical interest.
Doctor Strange
dir. Scott Derrickson (2016)
Benedict Cumberbatch gets some pre-hero acting in, which makes this film infinitely better than its sequel. While Tilda Swinton and Benedict Wong are also worth watching (in the quiet moments), the dimension-shifting action scenes and extended astral-plane trip are boring as batshit.
Dreadful Sanctuary
by Eric Frank Russell (Astounding Science Fiction, 1948)
revised novelised edition (Lancer, 1963)
How do you know you are sane? Russell’s hardboiled, offbeat prose drives a SF conspiracy thriller born, like Sinister Barrier, of Fortean speculation. The Lancer publication, purportedly revised by Russell himself, substitutes an ending markedly more pessimistic than those of other editions.
Cowboys & Aliens
dir. Jon Favreau (2011)
Better than could be expected given five co-writers and a story extrapolated (via graphic novel) from a gimmick title. The western element is played seriously but the aliens suffer from rampant Hollywooditus, spurning their own advanced technology to behave as mindless beasts.
Erased
by Taku Kishimoto; dir. Tomohiko Itō (Fuji TV, 2016)
A sweet spec-fic exploration of how childhood experiences go towards shaping adult life—somewhat unbalanced in presenting its past and present elements, but Satoru’s extended Revival as an 11-year-old in 1988 is effective in its own right. Satoru’s mum nails single parenthood.
Tintin: The Shooting Star
by Hergé (Casterman, 1942)
trans. Leslie Lonsdale-Cooper & Michael Turner (Methuen, 1961)
A straightforward adventure in the style of early SF novels: a hint of the supernatural, a lashing of fantastic elements (most memorably the gigantic mushrooms and other dreamlike eruptions), but a dramatic pulse that comes largely from the sabotage- and race-to-get-there-first plots.
Ghostbusters: Frozen Empire
dir. Gil Kenan (2024)
An entertaining romp that gives its adult cast more screen time while still structuring the plot around Mckenna Grace. (Finn Wolfhard is underused but no more so than Paul Rudd and Carrie Coon in Afterlife.) A far better sequel than Ghostbusters II.
MacGyver, Season 4
(CBS, 2020)
Notwithstanding some quality standalone episodes, this shortened fourth series sees the Phoenix team mostly rushed off their feet dealing with a world-ending plot arc (and thus increasingly likely to omit even token explanations of Mac’s mechanical improvisations). Jack’s humour is sorely missed.
Snuff
by Terry Pratchett (Doubleday, 2011)
audiobook read by Jon Culshaw (Penguin Audio, 2023)
Surely the least funny Discworld novel, though in the best possible way. Pratchett’s humour is rooted in humanity, and thus flown at a respectful half-mast throughout what proves a chastening examination (by the incomparable Sam Vimes) of murderous privilege and unthinking prejudice.
The ABC Murders
by Sarah Phelps; dir. Alex Gabassi (BBC, 2018)
A decidedly uncosy three-part miniseries that re-characterises Poirot from sprightly, upbeat master of all situations to inscrutable, world-weary has-been. John Malkovich is very good in the role but Agatha Christie purists may not appreciate the tonal shift (let alone the altered backstory).