Movie Buffs

On Friday I sat down with The Old Guard 2, a sequel I hadn't even known was in the works. Although actions movies are far from my bread and butter, I enjoyed the first Old Guard film when it came out. It centered an interesting group of characters with genuine struggles with their immortality, and featured queer actions heroes. Also, Charlize Theron. So when the sequel popped up in my Netflix queue, I was delighted and immediately added it to my list of things to be watched.

Spoilers Below

 

Charlize Theron still stars, and she and Kiki Layne as Nile are the only good parts left of the movie. The Old Guard 2 is nothing but a jerky back and forth of long fight sequences and exposition. Nothing happens in the film except the characters flying around the world, having lore-dumping conversations, and then getting into another fight. The end of the last film teased the return of Quynh, Andy's former companion who's spent the last 500 years drowning and reviving at the bottom of the ocean, but Quynh's role is lost in the shuffle of plots this quite average length (1 hr 45) film is trying to juggle while still including lengthy beat-em-up sequences. It felt like an enormously lost opportunity, as Quynh could have been such a fascinating character, and I was very interested to see more of her and how she was impacted by her ordeal and what her relationship with Andy was then and is now, but she felt more like window dressing. We actually learn nothing about Quynh that we didn't already know at the end of the last film. I haven no problem with the ambiguity the film keeps in Andy and Quynh's relationship, but in a film that centers (sort of) on their reunion, it seems like we should have learned something new about them.

 

We don't learn anything about any of the characters that we didn't know last film, except for Discord's claim that Nile is the last of the immortals who will ever be born. Although the characters are arguably what carried the last film, the sequel is content not to bother with fleshing them out further or showing any character growth or decline. Furthermore, the group dynamic from the last film is almost nonexistent. These characters have very little to say to each other, and virtually nothing of personal consequence. Andy never talks about what it's like to suddenly be mortal after thousands of years; Joe doesn't get to really share why he got back in touch with Booker, nor Nicky express his sense of betrayal about the lie; Nile never discusses how she's feeling or settling in after several months in her new life; outside of one brief sequence of banter over drinks, this feels more like a team of coworkers than the (admittedly, struggling) family we saw in the last film.

 

Plot-wise, there's Quynh's return, there's Discord and whatever her nefarious plans are, and there's lots of new lore about Nile as "the last of the immortals" and what that means for all of them. Any one of these could have been a sufficient plot on its own, and they do not come together gracefully, but rather like a high-speed car wreck where they tear pieces off of each other in a wince-inducing collision. The Old Guard 2 is desperately trying to expand is story, here by dropping in new, previously-unknown immortals (we were led to believe in the first film that Andy's band were the sum of all immortals in the world) and retrofitting them into the same flashback sequences we saw in the earlier film. Now it's Tuah who saved Andy from Quynh's fate; now there's Discord who was there and saw Quynh be dumped in the ocean and decided then to be evil I guess.

 

The movie also clearly doesn't know what to do with Booker, who was exiled by the group at the end of the first film. It brings him back into the fold only to have him immediately pursue suicide, at which he is eventually successful in the most meaningless of sacrifices, which gains the group nothing and actually leaves them in a worse position, as they're now down a man. As the heavy music swelled during Booker's sacrifice, I could only keep thinking of how stupid this was. If he was going to let himself get killed, it could have at least meant something. Well, now Booker's out of the way, so the film can focus on...what? 

 

Thirty minutes out from the end, I was wondering how they were going to wrap up all of these plot threads they'd tossed around, and the answer was simply: they won't. The film ends on a massive cliffhanger, fates of most of its characters unknown, almost nothing still known about Discord, the Big Bad or about Nile, and for the most part handwaves the conflict Andy and Quynh experienced throughout the film, as Quynh tried to process her grief and anger at feeling abandoned to her fate by Andy. It never even explains how Discord was able to find Quynh, considering the ocean drift of five centuries. These aren't some minor threads left hanging to tantalize us for another film: this movie is just straight-up unfinished, like a proctor called "time!" before they were able to finish filming.

 

Finally, personally, I think Quynh should have been a lot more unhinged after 500 years of drowning over and over again, hundreds of times a day. The film could have gone a lot harder selling her as a villain lashing out after unimaginable suffering, and done a lot more with where her psyche might be at after this horrific fate. Sure she's angry at the world for what was done to her, and at Andy for moving on when she decided finding Quynh was impossible, but she could have been so much worse. She seems to move on pretty quick.

 

Incredibly bold of this film to think they'll be getting a third movie after this flop. I could not be less interested in seeing anything else from this franchise.

I first read The Goblin Emperor by Katherine Addison last year, but I never got around to reviewing it, in part because I didn't know what to say about it. My friends had loved it, and while I'd found it enjoyable, I was still percolating on what I liked (or didn't!) about it. Listening to The Witness for the Dead, a book in the same universe, got me thinking about TGE again, so this month I gave it a re-read. This time, it all clicked.

 

This book is truly such an enjoyable read. The basics of Maia's tale are not unfamiliar—a seeming nobody is thrust into a position of power no one ever expected them to have—but Addison puts her own fascinating spin on it. It has the same feeling I got from The Witness for the Dead, where the story prioritizes doing the right thing and many if not most of the characters in it are striving to be good people (whatever that means for them). It makes a nice contrast to the very selfish, dark fantasy where you know from the start every character is just in it for themselves (and I do enjoy those too, not to say one is better than other!) The protagonist Maia in particular is put in any number of positions where he could misuse his power for personal gratification—such as imprisoning or executing his abusive former guardian, Setheris—but he, with conscious effort, chooses differently. That is not the kind of person—not the kind of emperor—Maia wants to be. And honestly—there is very gratifying fantasy, particularly today, in the idea of someone obtaining power and being committed to some kind of principles of proper governance, of having some code of honor above their own personal enrichment.

 

As a longtime Tolkien fan, Addison's focus on fantasy titles and linguistics was delightful to me, even if it kept me flipping back to the opening pages on pronunciations (adored the use of the formal singular "we" and the you/thou differentiation). The various layers of manners, societal expectations, customs, and practicalities with which Addison builds up the elven court makes for such a rich and realistic picture of a fantasy court. You can just imagine how the court's current processes built up over centuries, and Addison does a great job of using the characters around Maia—who are far more familiar with these things—to help define them. Not through infodumping, but through their own reactions and behavior, which create a firm outline of customs and expectations with which Maia and the reader are completely unfamiliar.

 

And Addison's characters stand out. She pays particular attention to giving details or characterization even to passing minor characters, which serves both to flesh out the court, and to indicate the attention Maia pays to those around him. While a reader—particularly a first-time reader—may be a little baffled by the jumble of fantasy names, I doubt anyone will be mistaking Cala for Beshelar for Kiru, even though they all serve the same function within the story (Maia's ever-present bodyguards). It's clear what a three-dimensional picture she has of this world in her own mind, and I think she does a wonderful job of letting the reader in on that picture.

 

They're all layered, too. Despite Maia's efforts to be good, he's not a perfect person—he has his own selfish and childish impulses to reign in. Two characters who would have been the easiest for Addison to paint black and white—Maia's father, Varenechibel, who exiled Maia's then-17-year-old mother from court because he disliked her—and Maia's guardian from age eight, his drunkard cousin Setheris—she instead takes time to show had other sides, too. Even the heart of the conspiracy to down the airship whose crash instigates Maia's rise to power by killing everyone else who would have taken the throne before him is given sympathy and rationality, never made into simple hateful caricatures whose downfall we can cheer unreservedly. 

I was further charmed by the eventual choice of Maia's future empress, who is allowed to be both passionate and flawed, and who is specifically noted to be physically unattractive. Fantasy as much as romance is often filled to the brim with heart-stoppingly beautiful princesses and queens and warrior women, so it's always nice to see something else. This empress to be may not be beautiful, but I do believe she's the best woman for the job, and that she, like Maia, will do her best.

 

Then there's the politics! I've said it before, I'll go on saying it: I love fantasy politics. All the fun and thrill of politics with none of the real-world stakes or consequences! I've seen this book described (lovingly) as a story where "nothing happens," but much of what's happening is politics. Maia is not only dropped into a role he wasn't remotely prepared for—he's dropped into a group of people all of whom had/have their own goals and schemes ongoing, and a significant part of Maia's introduction to court is having to figure these things out. Just as there are many keen to rid themselves of an inexperienced and potentially useless emperor, there are many equally eager to find a way to make a potentially pliable and ignorant emperor sing their tune. Addison's writing is very strong here; she balances a number of factions within various parts of the court, and their roles and positions are logical and believable. In fact, one of Maia's strongest skills proves to be his ability to trace a person's opinion or attitude down to its root, and then use that to reach understanding with them.

 

On the whole, this is such a lovely book, and I'm so glad I bought the copy I have so that it was available for a quick re-read. I will definitely read it again in the future, and I will proceed with the rest of the trilogy about Thara Celehar (who appears here as a side character). I just love the world that Addison has created, and I want to live in it a little longer if I can.

Oof. Today I threw in the towel on Margaret Killjoy's The Sapling Cage because I'd rather be alone with my thoughts than sit through another three hours of this book. This is a fantasy book about a "boy," Lorel, who disguises herself as her female friend to join a witches' coven (She's a transgirl, but her journey on that understanding is part of the book, and she refers to herself as a boy for much of the story.)

 

First, I will say that I think Lorel is a protagonist written with love; clearly Killjoy wanted her to be relatable and sympathetic, and someone eager for a trans fantasy protag may be willing to forgive the book's many weaknesses for that. That said...

 

I was shocked to realize this book is not categorized as Young Adult/Youth literature. Lorel is 16 at the start of the book and she's very sixteen. She makes all the sorts of stupid, immature mistakes you would expect from a teenager, which makes her a realistic character, but also deeply frustrating to read as an adult, particularly since the first-person narration puts us right in her head. The book feels young even for a sixteen-year-old; it reads more like a preteen novel about teenagers.

 

The book itself feels incredibly juvenile, both in prose and in narrative. The writing is simplistic, the narrative barely there, and the worldbuilding painfully thin. The book infodumps on the reader constantly, going into detail about things that are then never relevant again and don't connect into any kind of overarching picture of what this world is like. Reads very much like the author just throwing a bunch of things she thought were cool at the reader without actually thinking about how they would impact her world or the characters in them.

 

The opening chapters were a warning, because it was exactly the kind of rushing through the necessary set-up to get to the plot the author's actually interested in that I might have written when I was sixteen. Lorel comes up with this (allegedly very dangerous) plan to take her friend's place, convinces both her friend and her mom this is okay, and gets the boot out the door at lightning speed. Where the author might have taken time to thoughtfully build up the world Lorel lives in and what she's seeking or giving up by seeking witchhood, she clearly can't wait to get to the witches, and so skips over the rest of that stuff.

 

It's not even clear why witches exist or what they do besides run around and get chased out of places. At 68%, the entire story has been has been the witches walking from one place to another, being unwelcome, and having some random little dangerous encounter which is resolved in a page or two. Not only do they have no plan for dealing with the individuals or organization causing the blight at the center of the plot, they also seem to have no plan for improving their PR or for dealing with the "whelps" (pre-apprentice stage witches, where Lorel starts out) or any organization to their group at all. They seem to just wander around the world following magical sources with no goals, plans, or purposes. There's barely even a dim philosophy holding them together. All of this makes it a little baffling why any parent is promising their kid to the witches, which is the case for most of the whelps.

 

There are also other groups: "knights" of various branches who stand in near-universal opposition to witches, and "brigands" who seem to be highwaymen. Killjoy must have wanted to establish some balancing dynamic between them, but it just comes off like sorting characters into factions (This character wants to be a Knight, this character wants to be a Witch, etc.) as shorthand for having to get into that character's personality or worldview. Although the knights are frequently presented as enemies of the witches, we learn basically nothing about them (except that Lorel's best friend has joined them, which seems like it should cause some conflict between them, but it doesn't), and the brigands are treated as some group akin to knights or witches, rather than a synonym for "criminal," which is a pretty broad term.

 

The teenage whelps do a lot of dumb things, but the witches also consistently fail to adequately prepare them for the various dangers they encounter. I realize they're supposed to be tough mentor types, and that tracks with the dangerous lives witches lead here, but they come off remarkably irresponsible to their charges. They also seem to prioritize physical combat above anything else they could be teaching the whelps, for reasons they never explain, and the whelps seem as often a burden to the witches as the next generation of witches themselves. 

 

The inter-character relationships are very predictable, you can see the whole outline of them from the very beginning, and nothing happened that was surprising. The characters themselves are flat and shallow and there's very little variation between them, and certainly not in their speaking style. I could not identify anything about the fellow whelps, except Didey who is the mean one and Araneigh (she will always be RNA to this audiobook listener) who is the one Lorel has a crush on.

 

The majority of conflicts set up are solved almost immediately, with the exception of the main plot about the blight and the issue of Lorel's gender identity, which makes it grow tiring to encounter some new problem which you know will be over shortly. These are often the opportunity for Killjoy to introduce some fantastical creature which will never matter again outside of this one scene and whose existence does not figure into any cohesive worldbuilding. (And for a very minor, worldbuilding-related nitpick, how does Lorel know what "adrenaline" is? The technology of this world is at a medieval level at most.)

 

I also hated the audiobook narration. I've never disliked one so much before that it was distracting me from the story, but here we are. The narrator uses a phenomenally grating flat and nasally voice for many of the characters, and is prone to trailing off into a near-whisper, which makes managing the volume a pain. She also mumbles: I couldn't tell if Lorel's fellow whelp was "Hex," "Pex," "Ex" or something else for several chapters, and it wasn't until over 60% through the book I realized the name of Lorel's hometown was "Leadston" not "Ludston." Thought she was just mispronouncing "dame" the entire time until reviews revealed the witches' titles are actually "Dam So-and-so."

 

It has some nice messaging about growing into yourself and accepting your differences and learning to get along with others, but so do a lot of other books that are better-written.

 

This was a very disappointing book, and I will be avoiding anything else from this author going forward. Possibly when I was a teenager I would have found it entertaining, but I'm not sure even then. It just feels so very hollow.

Crossposted to books , booknook , and fffriday