A-list actors Al Pacino and Dan Stevens (the latter of whom is pictured above getting up close and personal with the Shadow King in Legion) want to get in on the exorcist action, it seems, and Variety reports that the two are set to star in an exorcism horror film called The Ritual.
The movie comes from director David Midell, who co-wrote it with Enrico Natale.
Here’s Variety’s description of the film:
Based on a true story, The Ritual follows two priests—one questioning his faith (Stevens) and one reckoning with a troubled past (Pacino)—who must put aside their differences to save a possessed young woman through a difficult and dangerous series of exorcisms.
That young woman mentioned in the synopsis is Emma Schmidt, and Variety reports that the film is “an authentic portrayal” of her demonic possession and subsequent exorcisms. Schmidt’s case is also apparently the most documented exorcism in U.S. history. Take that, The Conjuring franchise!
The project is still in its early days, so no news yet on when the film will scare its way into theaters. [end-mark]
If someone had asked, "What do you think Zoe Kravitz's debut film as a director will be?" would you have guessed "a film in which Channing Tatum invites people to a private island and then fucks with their memories?" I can't say I would have come up with that—but I'm glad Kravitz did. Blink Twice (which was originally titled Pussy Island) has a certain Glass-Onion-gone-haywire vibe: Tatum plays a billionaire tech bro with a bunch of questionable friends who invites two women he apparently just met (Naomi Ackie and Alia Shawkat) to a debauched gathering on his private island.
At least, that's what seems to happen. At first. But there's a moment where this trailer takes a wild turn, and Ackie's character finds herself the only person who remembers Shawkat's Jess. Jess, naturally, is the one who wonders, "So do you think the human sacrifice is before or after dinner?"
As Christian Slater's character says, "There's something weird going on here." The hints are all there; one guy is desperate to find his knife, while another has a mysterious black eye he seems unconcerned about. Things simply don't track, and in a most intriguing way.
Kravitz co-wrote the film with E.T. Feigenbaum, who also wrote an episode of the Kravitz-starring High Fidelity series. Blink Twice also stars Kyle MacLachlan, Haley Joel Osment, Adria Arjona, Geena Davis, Simon Rex, and Liz Caribel. It's in theaters August 23rd.[end-mark]
The Pablo Berger-written and directed film premiered last year at Cannes, and since then has garnered rave reviews and also the Annie Award for Best Independent Feature. This latest trailer focuses on the lighter side of Dog and Robot’s relationship, when the two grow feelings for each other (and maybe… start holding hands?!) while exploring their version of New York City.
Things, however, take a sad turn. The expanded synopsis of the movie below teases how:
A tender, affecting tale of friendship, the animated Robot Dreams—adapted from the graphic novel of the same name by Sara Varon—is set in a 1980s NYC populated solely by pigs, birds, cats, and other animal clans. Yet Dog leads a lonely existence, eating TV dinners in his East Village walkup. When he sees an infomercial for a robot-building kit, he seizes the chance for the perfect city buddy: Dog and Robot eat hot dogs together on 5th Avenue, roller skate in Central Park, venture to Coney Island—to the groove of their song, Earth, Wind & Fire’s “September.” But when Robot gets stranded at the beach, Dog is helpless to rescue him; and, as the seasons change, they both endure a separation that will change them forever.
Will the ending be sad? Bittersweet? Happy? I’m still in the dark about that, but if Guillermo del Toro describes the film as “beautiful, unexpected, and tender,” it will be a worthy watch.
The U.S. theatrical premiere of Robot Dreams will happen on May 31, 2024, at Film Forum.
Very few things involving two-way mirrors are good, and the big mirror in The Watchers, the directorial debut of Ishana Night Shyamalan, is no exception. When Mina (Dakota Fanning) finds herself stranded (with her bird!) in an Irish forest, there are noises, vibrations, weird happenings—and a door. She has five seconds to get inside before something bad clearly happens.
The Watchers is produced by M. Night Shyamalan; Ishana is his daughter. The movie is based on the book by Irish writer A.M. Shine. The new trailer is creepy and baffling: How is all this weirdness contained to one forest? What is real? What the heck is going on? Why does the bird kind of sound robotic? (I still don't want anything to happen to the bird.) Does this mirror-walled room have an attached bathroom or are we in a typical science fiction prison situation here where no one ever has to pee?
In a recent interview, Shyamalan said that her film “is a journey of suspense that hopefully leads into a feeling of wonder at the end. My hope is it’s an experience that plays on that sense of unease—then takes you to a bigger, wonderful place.”
Recently, Inverse had a nice chat with screenwriter Brian Helgeland, on the occasion of the 20th anniversary of the film Man on Fire. Helgeland has written and/or directed quite a few other movies you might have heard of, among them the Heath Ledger-starring A Knight's Tale. And as it turns out, once upon a time, there were sequel ideas for that film.
One was, er, perhaps not the most stellar idea (it involved kidnapping and a tattooed map and pirates). The other was a somewhat predictable but well-intentioned concept apparently come up with by Paul Bettany (who played Chaucer in the film) and Alan Tudyk (who played Wat). The story would have followed the teen daughter of William (Ledger's character), who wished to joust but was not allowed to, being a girl and all. (Side note: If you are going to make historically anachronistic movies, you can leave out the sexism! Just saying!) But there was someone—or rather, something—standing in the way. As Helgeland says:
I pitched it to Sony because they own the rights, and it seemed like they were interested in making it with Netflix, releasing it as a Netflix movie. My understanding is that Netflix tested this sequel idea through their algorithms, which indicated that it would not be successful. A Knight’s Tale seems to get more popular with every passing year; it’s the strangest thing.
The computer said no. We live in a very depressing timeline.
Helgeland also goes into his plans for a Game of Thrones spinoff, Ten Thousand Ships, that seems unlikely to ever happen; he was working on the story of Queen Nymeria, and created a story in which she and her people live on a floating city-state. "My work is still there if HBO wants to pick it up. I enjoyed my time developing it, and you just never know," he says. That is a lot of ships, though. [end-mark]
“Infection” Written by J. Michael Straczynski Directed by Richard Compton Season 1, Episode 4 Production episode 101 Original air date: February 16, 1994
It was the dawn of the third age… A reporter from Interstellar Network News (which, for some reason, is abbreviated ISN), Mary Ann Cramer, has arrived on B5 in order to interview Sinclair, an interview he is ducking. It’s the second anniversary of B5 going live, and ISN wants to interview the guy in charge. Garibaldi is stuck running interference with her.
Franklin is surprised to get a visit from his mentor, Dr. Vance Hendricks, who promises him a grand adventure like nothing he’s ever seen before, so that can’t be good. Meantime in the docking bay, a customs officer questions Hendricks’ partner, Nelson Drake, suspecting him of smuggling something. Drake eventually kills the customs officer due to the fact that he is smuggling something.
Garibaldi investigates the death of the customs officer, the cause of which seems to be a simple heart attack, though Garibaldi still thinks it suspicious.
Hendricks explains that he and Drake retrieved some artifacts from Ikarra VII. They were sponsored by Interplanetary Expeditions. What they found are thousands of years old, but in perfect shape—and are also organic, which is why Hendricks brought them to Franklin to examine. This may give them the breakthrough to create organic technology like what the Vorlons and Minbari have. Hendricks also lies and says that the items went through quarantine at their previous stop on the way to B5.
While unpacking some items, one glows and hits Drake with a massive electric discharge, throwing him across the cabin into the bulkhead. Drake does not report this to anyone, nor do Franklin or Hendricks notice his bizarre subsequent behavior.
Sinclair continues to duck Cramer. Garibaldi’s attempt to get her to talk to him results in her asking him probing questions about all the prior jobs he’s been fired from, at which point he, too, ducks her.
Franklin goes to MedLab to find it darkened and a transformed Drake inside. The latter says, “Protect!” and fires a nasty ray-beam at Franklin. Hendricks says that it appears that one of the devices they found bonds to a person, enhancing them. He promises to do more research. He also says that Drake handled all the paperwork for getting them through customs.
Drake kills two people in downbelow. The zappy thing gets more powerful with each shot, to the point that CinC can pick up the blasts on scanners. But his first confrontation with security ends with Drake blasting through a bulkhead and escaping.
It’s quickly determined that the zappy thing needs time to recharge, but that time decreases with each shot, plus it gets more powerful each time.
Hendricks and Franklin’s research reveals that the tech they found was constructed in order to create soldiers who would defend only “pure Ikarrans,” basing its programming on ideology rather than science. The problem was that there was no such thing as a “pure Ikarran,” and eventually the soldiers wiped out everyone, even the ones on their side.
Sinclair lures Drake away from populated areas, and also taunts him, saying he failed, and finally gets him to access the host’s memories, as Drake has been to Ikarra VII as it is today: a dead world. The tech figures out that it failed and discorporates in a puff of illogic.
Franklin found a device for cardiac stimulation in Drake’s things that matches two markings on the customs officer’s neck. If used on a healthy person, it would induce a heart attack. Drake is guilty of murder. Hendricks offers Franklin half the money he’ll get from IPX—which, he says, is a front for a bio-weapons developer—if he doesn’t turn him in. But Franklin called security before he confronted Hendricks. Later, two people from EarthDome show up to confiscate the bio-tech.
Finally, Sinclair sits down with Cramer and speaks his mind—including why he thinks, despite the expense and the skepticism of many back on Earth—it’s vital that humanity continue to go out into space.
Nothing’s the same anymore. Garibaldi calls Sinclair on his constant need to barge in and do all the rough missions his own self, making it clear that it’s not just because he’s the top-billed character but also because he still hasn’t figured out how to stop fighting in a war.
Ivanova is God. When Cramer tries to barge her way into CinC during a crisis, Ivanova gets rid of her by standing in front of her and very calmly saying, “Don’t—you’re too young to experience that much pain.” Cramer immediately departs.
The household god of frustration. Sinclair tells Garibaldi that he’s avoiding Cramer because the last time he gave an interview to a journalist and spoke his mind, he was transferred to a distant outpost. Garibaldi tells him that he shouldn’t fret—just speak his mind again, and worst case, he’s transferred out and Garibaldi gets his job. What’s the problem?????
Welcome aboard. Marshall Teague plays his first of three roles in the franchise, as Drake; he’ll return in the recurring role of Ta’Lon throughout seasons two to five, and again in Crusade’s “The Long Road” as Captain Daniels. Patricia Healy makes her first of two appearances as Cramer; she’ll be back in “By Any Means Necessary.”
But the big guest is our first Robert Knepper moment of the B5 Rewatch, as I had totally forgotten that the late great David McCallum played Hendricks. McCallum is, of course, best known for his iconic role of Ilya Kuryakin in The Man from U.N.C.L.E. and his long-running final role as Dr. “Ducky” Mallard for the first two decades of NCIS.
Trivial matters. This episode has the first mention of the possibly very dodgy Interplanetary Expeditions, which will be seen a bunch more again.
This was the first episode written and produced once the show went to series, though it was never intended to be the first aired.
Only four of the ten people listed in the opening credits appear in this episode. Bill Mumy and Caitlin Brown have yet to make their first appearances, despite being credited.
The echoes of all of our conversations.
“There’s one thing that every scientist on the planet agrees on: whether it happens in a hundred years or a thousand years or a million years, eventually our sun will grow cold and go out. When that happens, it won’t just take us—it’ll take Marilyn Monroe and Laozi and Einstein and Morobuto and Buddy Holly and Aristophanes, and all of this… all of this was for nothing unless we go to the stars.”
—Sinclair’s answer to Cramer’s interview question, and also the only worthwhile part of the episode.
The name of the place is Babylon 5. “What’s the worst that could happen?” It’s never a good sign when an episode of B5 doesn’t have any of the three most interesting characters in it. Delenn, G’Kar, and Mollari are the heart and soul of this show, and that none of them appear in this episode is but one of a billion problems with it, the biggest of them being that it’s awful.
Seriously, this script would make for one of the weaker episodes of Space: 1999 or Buck Rogers in the 25th Century or the original Battlestar Galactica or Gene Roddenberry’s Andromeda, much less the show that promised to be the vanguard of a new age of great SF TV. B5 got some great guest stars over its run, and I thought I remembered all the good ones, but I’d totally forgotten that David McCallum was ever on this show. It’s a testament to how truly dreadful this episode is that it made me forget that McCallum was in it.
“Infection” is a tiresome collection of weak clichés, boring action, and tired tropes, from the mentor-gone-evil to the manly hero avoiding the plucky female journalist who just wants to ask him some questions to the laughable look of Drake after being transformed.
It does have one redeeming feature, but the problem is, you have suffer through the entire crappy episode to get to it. Sinclair’s answer to Cramer’s question about whether humanity should continue to go into space or stay home where it’s safe and only has humans in it is brilliant (and quoted in “The echoes of all our conversations” above), erudite, and, most of all, quite true. (I wish half the people he cited weren’t from twentieth-century Western civilization, but I also love that his list included the creators of both the Tao Te Ching and “Peggy Sue.”)
Some might say that Garibaldi’s come-to-Jesus speech to Sinclair is a redeeming feature, too, but I’m not one of them. It’s a legitimate complaint from Garibaldi, and it certainly provides justification for Sinclair being at the forefront of the action all the time. But it feels too much like Straczynski came up with a Marvel No-Prize to explain why the guy at the top of the opening credits does all the cool actiony stuff, rather than an actual bit of characterization.
We've had post-credits scenes, we've had unexpected mutant powers, we've had that bit in Multiverse of Madness with Professor X. But now we—in the sense of Disney and the MCU—are all in on the X-Men. Welcome, Deadpool (Ryan Reynolds); welcome, some other, even grumpier Wolverine (Hugh Jackman); welcome, Cassandra Nova (Emma Corrin), who appears in this new Deadpool and Wolverine trailer and immediate smashes Wolverine into the floor. As one does, if one is, well... her.
Cassandra is an early-2000s Grant Morrison/Frank Quitely creation with a very, very troubled relationship to Charles Xavier. (If you aren't familiar with her backstory, maybe don't read up on it; the Deadpool take is sure to be entertaining. And probably upsetting.) What her arrival means for the X-Men and the MCU should be very interesting—if it doesn't all just get wiped away in some multiversal hijinks.
According to Variety, Deadpool and Wolverine "sees Deadpool arrive in the MCU after being kidnapped by the Time Variance Authority, the multiverse manager last seen in Loki, and finding himself in the same world as the Avengers."
This movie is the first time this Deadpool (Ryan Reynolds) gets to play in the same universe as the Avengers and the X-Men, as Disney bought 20th Century Fox in the years since the last Deadpool movie. (See also: the giant 20th Century Fox logo toppled in the desert in this trailer.)
It's always nice to see Wolverine getting picked up in a bar, even if he's having a very bad time of it. Deadpool and Wolverine is directed by Shawn Levy, and is in theaters July 26th.[end-mark]
This film has been on my radar forever, but I never actually saw it until this past week. It was one of Those weeks, and it turns out a sweet Bigfoot comedy was just what I needed. It’s also just the thing to round out this chapter of the Bestiary.
I did not expect to like it as much as I did. It’s a collection of tropes constructed around a very tall guy in a Sasquatch suit. There’s the suburban family with the gun-totin’ dad, the bloodthirsty small boy, the obnoxious teen daughter, and the long-suffering mom.
They’re out on one of their regular camping trips in the Cascades out of Seattle. It’s the last day; they’re about to head home when little Ernie gleefully shoots a rabbit, under dad George’s enthusiastic tutelage. Sister Sarah is totally over it. Mom Nan is just ready to head back to Seattle.
On the way home, on the twisting fire road, with the sun in his eyes, George hits a large, hairy animal. It’s a slow and funny burn as they realize it’s a Bigfoot and decide to load the apparent corpse on the roof of the station wagon and haul it back to the city for fame and glory. And money. Money is a definite factor.
Bigfoot, however, is not dead. One good jump scare and rather a lot of slapstick comedy ensue, not to mention a whole range of chase scenes. There’s a considerable amount of property damage. (Even in 1987, that would have been a serious strain on the homeowners’ insurance.)
The tropes keep on coming. Mega-nosy neighbor Irene sweeps in and out of the Hendersons’ increasingly more dramatically trashed house. Sasquatch-obsessed big-game hunter Jacques LaFleur and washed-out zoologist turned skeevy Sasquatch Museum proprietor Dr. Wrightwood have their separate reasons for wanting to capture the elusive cryptid. A good part of suburban Seattle reacts variously and sometimes wildly to the news of a monster at large in their nice quiet neighborhoods.
A lot of things make it work, but one of the main assets is the cast. John Lithgow is George, Melinda Dillon is Nan, and Lainie Kazan is on point as Irene. Don Ameche imparts a suave and slightly slithery panache to Dr. Wrightwood, and David Suchet is the darkly dangerous LaFleur. But the real star of the show is the big hairy guy—hence, Harry.
Kevin Peter Hall, with stunt double Dawan Scott, was the seven-foot-plus guy in the suit. There was puppetry as well, with a team led by master creature designer Rick Baker. What they created among them was a fully rounded person.
Harry is the North American cousin of Kim Stanley Robinson’s Buddha, the enlightened Yeti from Shambhala. He’s a pescatarian. He mourns the death of warm-blooded animals and gives them a respectful burial. This includes not only the roast for dinner but George’s large collection of taxidermied trophies.
His mourning is beautifully played. He’s a master of the sorrowful-puppy expression. He mimes joy, too, and curiosity. But rarely anger—and then only when severely provoked.
It gradually dawns on the Hendersons that Harry’s vocalizations constitute a language. He understands a fair bit of human speech, and more the longer he spends with them. He is in fact highly intelligent.
Like Buddha, he appears to be some form of human ancestor. He does have one major down side: he reeks. But the Hendersons find a way to fix that.
Their original plan, to get rich off the Bigfoot, transforms into something completely different. Harry teaches them to appreciate the natural world and to feel empathy for the creatures that live in it. He’s an antidote to the macho ideal of George’s dad’s sporting-goods store, which is all about killing things and hanging their remains on walls.
The Hendersons become different people once they’ve met Harry. All but Nan, who was always the most Harry-like of them all. George gets in touch with his real self, which is a talented artist. Ernie turns from killing things to protecting and preserving them. Sarah reveals her true, courageous self. She doesn’t even hesitate to tell off all seven feet plus of Harry when he eats her carefully preserved fifteenth-birthday corsage. She was going to keep that forever. And he ate it.
Never underestimate the power of the teen girl.
Harry is anything but a monster. As always with this version of the Bigfoot story, the real monsters are human.
Humans want to hunt and kill things. They make monsters out of gentle nonhuman beings. When told the truth about Bigfoot, they don’t want to hear it. George’s dad “fixes” the life-size portrait George draws of Harry by giving it scary fangs in place of Harry’s flat, human-like teeth.
The human world, even the one gentled and softened by Harry’s presence, is no place for a Bigfoot. The trope requires that the Hendersons and a couple of unexpected allies return him to the forest. As much as they hate to say goodbye, they have to. There’s no other choice. It’s sad, but it’s also triumphant—especially at the very end, when we see that Harry is by no means the last of his kind.
It’s all about the tropes. It’s as manipulative as hell. And this viewer doesn’t care. Sometimes you just want a big sweet hairy friend to teach you how to be a better person.
Plenty of other people seem to have agreed. The film spawned three seasons of a television series in 1991-1993, when a season was a full 24 episodes. It says a lot for Harry that he could support 72 episodes of commercial television on top of a surprising gem of a film.[end-mark]
Welcome back once again to Reading The Wheel of Time. This week we are covering chapters 22 to 24 of Winter’s Heart, in which Rand travels to Far Madding and then is followed by renegade Asha’man, by Luc, and finally, by Cadsuane and her entourage, including Harine and Shalon. Far Madding is a fascinating new addition to the world, and I’m really excited to get into it with all of you. So let’s get on to the recap!
In the Amhara Market in Far Madding, Rand secretly follows Manel Rochaid through the crowd. Rand is in disguise, with his hair dyed black and wearing nondescript clothing, but Rochaid’s fancy red coat stands out among the subdued colors worn by local men. Rand is confident that Rochaid doesn’t know that Rand is following him, and probably wouldn’t recognize Rand even if he saw him. Rand thinks that Rochaid is a fool, while Lews Therin panics in Rand’s head, insisting that Rand is the fool for coming to such a place, that they must leave immediately. But Rand is focused on his intention to kill Rochaid, ideally before the rest of his quarry arrive; they’re on equal footing here, but it’s always a good idea to cut down the odds.
Lews Therin continues to wail in Rand’s head that being in this place is as good as death, which Rand rather agrees with. However, sometimes the only choice is between bad and worse. He is suddenly hit by a wave of dizziness and sees a murky face before him. When he recovers, he has lost sight of Rochaid. When he eventually finds him again, Rochaid is acting differently, covering his coat and peace-bonded sword with his cloak and scurrying along the edges of buildings.
Rand follows him down a maze of alleyways until he comes upon the Asha’man, standing with his cloak thrown back, waiting for Rand. Rochaid says that Rand was easy to bait and begins to draw his sword—Rand sees that the peace bond has been cut—but Rand darts forward and clamps his hands down, trapping the blade. He punches Rochaid in the throat, crushing his windpipe, then hears a sound behind him and knocks Rochaid to the ground, falling on top of him as a sword swings over his head. Rand rolls and comes up with Rochaid’s sword in his hands, and sees that Raefar Kisman has stabbed Rochaid in an attempt to stab Rand.
Kisman readies himself to face Rand, obviously nervous, but they are interrupted by the sounds of the Street Guards. Knowing that they’ll both be arrested if they are found standing over a dead body, both men agree to let the other go, and they take off in opposite directions.
Kisman easily melts into the crowd, relieved to see the Street Guard rushing past him. He tells himself he was a fool to let Rochaid talk him into this plan. Kisman's even a little uncertain if they are actually supposed to kill Rand. but what he does know is that Far Madding is their last chance to make good on the failure at Cairhien.
He is trying to decide what to do next when he feels a knife slice into his arm, and hears a voice say “He belongs to me.” But when he turns around he can’t see anyone, and Kisman can’t understand why the small wound hurts so terribly. When his hand begins to swell and blacken, he realizes that he is going to die. His last thought is that he had been promised he could live forever, and that one of the Chosen must have decided to punish him for some reason.
Rand returns to the inn where he, Min, Nynaeve, Lan, and Alivia are staying. When he explains what has happened, Lan and Min begin packing at once. Alivia tells Rand that there's too much he needs to do to get himself killed, and that he must let them help. When everyone has left, Min tells Rand that she never felt anything in the bond when he was attacked, no fear or anger or even concern. Rand responds that he wasn’t angry—the man just needed killing.
Min agrees with Alivia that Rand must let them help, and suggests that maybe he could describe the men to her. Rand realizes, suddenly, that he could draw them all perfectly, so that anyone could recognize their faces. He has never known how to draw before—but Lews Therin does. Rand thinks that thought should frighten him.
Isam waits in Tel’aran’rhiod, a place where he feels more comfortable than in the waking world. He carefully unsheathes two poison daggers, then steps from the Dream into the real world. As he does so, he becomes Luc. Luc stabs two people in their beds, and when they are dead he turns on the light to study their faces. He likes seeing the faces of those he’s killed, and cherishes the memories, even those kills that were carried out by Isam.
Stepping back into Tel’aran’rhiod, Luc reports to his patron that the people in the room were not the people he was sent to kill. His patron, who has done something with the One Power that makes it impossible for Luc to look directly at him or to remember what his voice sounds like, tells Luc to wait for an order before trying again, then leaves through a gateway.
It really was a pity. He had rather looked forward to killing his nephew and the wench. But if there was time to pass, hunting was always a pleasure. He became Isam. Isam liked killing wolves even more than Luc did.
Shalon rides her horse through a gateway made by the Aes Sedai, following Harine and Moad, Harine’s Swordmaster, out of the stable yard of the Sun Palace and into a clearing. Shalon is disappointed that she wasn’t allowed to see the weaving of the gateway. She is aware of many strange, hidden currents running between Cadsuane and the other Aes Sedai, and is also confused about the status of Eben, Damar, and Jahar.
Harine, meanwhile, is angry and frustrated with Cadsuane, who is not treating Harine as Harine’s status demands. Harine and Shalon are both excited about the prospect of being able to move ships at sea through Gateways, and Harine instructs Shalon to pretend to spy on Harine for Cadsuane in return for being taught the weaves.
Their conversation is interrupted by Sarene Nemdahl riding up to join them. Sarene explains that Cadsuane has instructed her to be Harine’s attendant, to answer her questions and instruct her on customs. Shalon expects Harine to deride or tease Sarene, but is confused when Harine becomes flustered. Serene seems not to notice or understand, but agrees to pretend to forget something Harine wants her to forget. As they ride, Shalon tries to make sense of the conflicting currents and attitudes between the various Aes Sedai.
When Sarene suddenly murmurs that the men cannot channel now, Shalon takes this to mean that Eben, Damar, and Jahar were gentled, and this is why the Aes Sedai could bond them as Warders. Sarene corrects her assumption by explaining Far Madding.
The city, she explains, possesses a ter’angreal—or perhaps three connected ter’angreal—that were presumably made during the Breaking. These ter’angreal block the ability to channel or to feel the True Source. For men it is a wider diameter than for women, but before they cross the bridge into the city all the female channelers will also lose the ability to touch the True Source.
Shalon can’t imagine what it will feel like to not even be able to sense the True Source, but when the moment comes it isn’t as horrible as she feared. She feels empty, but she can bear that feeling for a while.
Far Madding exists on an island in the middle of a lake. At the bridge their names are taken and all the swords and larger knives of the men are peace tied by respectful guards. Harine and Moad are reluctant, but when Harine asks how Moad will defend himself if his weapon is inaccessible, the guards reply that no man needs to defend himself in Far Madding—the Street Guards take care of that.
Shalon tries to be observant as they enter the city, but she finds it difficult to concentrate on anything as she struggles with the empty feeling and wonders how long Harine will want to stay in the city. She knows Harine intends to attach herself to the Coramoor because Min told her that she will become Mistress of the Ships, and Harine believes the Coramoor will help her achieve that rank.
Until Harine left, until Cadsuane freed them from the agreement, Shalon was anchored here. Here, where there was no True Source.
Cadsuane rides straight through the open gates of the Hall of the Counsel into a sort of indoor stable yard, where they are met by a surprised man who Cadsuane quickly bullies into running to inform the First Counsel that Cadsuane Melaidhrin is here to see her. Sarene explains to Harine and Shalon that the First Counsel is the de facto ruler of Far Madding.
After a rather arduous climb up a long staircase, Cadsuane orders Kumira to show Harine and Shalon the Guardian. Quietly, Kumira asks them to forgive Cadsuane, explaining that the Counsels are not very welcoming to Aes Sedai, and that the people of Far Madding prefer to pretend that the One Power doesn’t exist. Still, she imagines that no one will be comfortable knowing that Cadsuane has returned.
They go to the railing, where they can look down into the space below. Three women in white are seated there, and beside each is a cloudy crystal disc marked out with lines like a compass. Shalon thinks it would make more sense to see something huge and black that sucks in the light literally as well as metaphorically.
The Counsels arrive, and Shalon is impressed with the bearing and adornments of the First Counsel, who greets Harine formally and by her full title. She expresses a desire to learn more about the Atha’an Miere and offers Harine accommodations in her Palace. She is much less welcoming to Cadsuane, but Harine reluctantly tells the First Counsel that Cadsuane must stay with her. This was part of the Bargain Harine made with Cadsuane in order to be allowed to accompany her, and now Shalon knows why.
Verin suddenly announces that a man is channeling. Shalon looks and sees that the disks have turned black and all turned to point in the same direction. Watching the women below examine the compass-like points, Shalon realizes that the ovals must allow for triangulation of the location of the channeler. The First Counsel remarks that it must be an Asha’man, and he cannot trouble Far Madding; Asha’man are even free to enter the city, if they wish.
Despite Cadsuane sharply urging her to be quiet, Verin continues to muse about some siege of Far Madding, then talks about all the Dragon Reborn’s powerful forces, about the armies and the Aiel. She seems surprised and apologetic when Cadsuane tells her off for frightening the Counsels, hastily pointing out that unless they give the Dragon some reason to come after them, he’s probably much more concerned by the powerful and dangerous Seanchan, and have the Counsels heard about all the horrible things that have been happening with Seanchan?
The First Counsel instructs two of the other Counsels to escort Cadsuane, Harine, and the others to the Palace, while she and the remaining Counsels go off with Verin. Shalon suspects Verin’s surprise and Cadsuane’s annoyance is an act; she had also noticed that Jahar had slipped away even before they parted with the other men, and suspects that he was the one channeling. She wonders what the Aes Sedai are up to.
Shalon is surprised when Harine expresses concern over Shalon’s pain at being blocked from the True Source. She wants Shalon to find out what Cadsuane is doing here, but she also remembers that when she was a small child who was afraid of the dark, Shalon never left her alone with it. Surprising Shalon with her care and open affection, she promises not to leave Shalon alone with it, either.
I have to hand it to Jordan: These chapters are just flawless in their execution. There are often times in Jordan’s writing when we’re in a third person POV with a character who has a secret, or more information about an upcoming plot event than he wants the reader to know. He’ll try to write his way around it, alluding to whatever thing he is trying to keep us in suspense about, but the narration often feels contrived and artificial as a result, and it’s frustrating when you can see the strings as the author works, when there’s no reason for someone not to think in their own head of a name or an event in plain terms.
In contrast to this, however, chapter 22 feels almost effortless. We are dropped into Rand’s perspective while he is in the middle of doing something that requires focus and concentration, and it makes sense that his thoughts are going to be very focused on what he’s doing, not on musing over the fact that you can’t channel in Far Madding and why that is. He knows why he isn’t carrying his sword and why the peace tying is required, and if he’s not actively going back and thinking about it, then we’re not going to see it in the narration.
And yet, I also felt like I had all the information I needed to understand what was going on. The clues of Lews Therin’s terror, Rand’s focus on his skills at hand-to-hand fighting, and the telling line about Kisman being one of those Asha’man who never learned the sword properly because of his pride and arrogance about being a channeler let me know that for some reason channeling wasn’t an option here, either because it was blocked somehow, or because there would be devastating consequences.
It’s just a really flawless chapter, and I loved that Jordan laid so many subtle but clear hints that Rochaid knew that Rand was following him and was leading him into a trap. Rochaid is clearly an arrogant guy, but the fact that he was walking around making himself incredibly visible and openly asking people about a man matching Rand’s description should at least have made Rand consider the idea of a trap. After all, when Rand was laying all his little clues, he was trying to make it look like he was running away from Rochaid and the other. If they bought his act, then they would expect him to be on the lookout for his pursuers, and that he might flee again if he discovered any of them were in the city.
Also, the narration repeated Rand’s conviction that Rochaid didn’t know Rand was in the city and was a fool who didn’t know what he was doing a little too often, which was a narrative clue for the reader for sure. Still, Rand wasn’t wrong that he could handle Rochaid and several others besides, and I have no doubt he could have beaten Kisman just as easily, either with the sword or bare-handed fighting.
I’ve always respected Rand’s desire to learn different methods of fighting from different people and cultures, and I think it shows a lot of wisdom that he sees the value in learning as much as he can. And he has so much to learn so quickly, not just hand-to-hand combat and swordplay, but politics and games of power, different cultural demands, and of course being a male channeler and the Dragon Reborn. Just a few things. Rand has some significant blindspots, but generally he doesn’t tend to see things in narrow terms; he looks for the possibilities and angles he thinks other people overlook, whether it be as a ruler, or as a channeler, or as someone responsible for shaping the future of mankind. It's one of the reasons I love the detail of his investment in his schools. Yes, he wants to leave behind a legacy of building something, not just destroying, but he’s also genuinely interested in all the strange new ideas and creations of the people he’s patronizing—we saw how he was watching the steam-powered creation when he and Min went to pick up Fel’s books.
It was interesting that Rand has a sudden dizzy spell and a flash of a vision in the middle of his pursuit of Rochaid. I’m sure all that sickness from the taint and the balefire collision with Moridin doesn’t ebb just because Rand is in a place where he can’t touch the True Source, but I find myself wondering if what actually happened was that he was having half a vision of Mat or Perrin’s face because one of them thought of him in that same moment, and had a vision of him. These visions must have something to do with the Pattern needing to push them back together for some reason, and since they’re all having them, it wouldn’t surprise me if they could feel the effects of each other’s thoughts, as well as their own individual ones. And since there was no nausea associated with this dizzy spell, I feel like that supports my theory that it’s something other than taint sickness.
I wonder if Rand’s lack of concern over having suddenly absorbed Lews Therin’s artistic abilities has more to do with the growing “madness” of being exposed to the taint or more to do with the way he’s hardening his emotions. I can kind of see why he wasn’t afraid in his confrontation with Rochaid and Kisman, since they were not very capable attackers, but Min observes that she felt nothing from him in the bond, even the surge of adrenalin from a fight or anger towards these men who tried to kill him, and who he came to kill. Rand replies that he felt no anger, treating the need to kill the Asha’man as nothing more than a fact, a neutral task that might be a little tricky to accomplish but that has no feeling attached to it—perhaps in the same way that he is attempting to still anger, he also is attempting to still fear. He has already accepted the fact of his death, he has faced kidnap and torture and extreme pain, he has been poisoned by Ishamael’s touch and by Mordeth-Fain’s Shadar Logoth dagger. Given that he only has one technique for dealing with any troubling emotions, why wouldn’t he crush his ability to feel fear even harder than he is attempting to crush his sense of compassion, his regrets, and his sorrow?
And to be fair, it would be kind of cool to suddenly be an amazing artist without having to slog through being a terrible artist for years and years while you practice and learn. I mean, Rand can produce incredible weaves completely instinctually. Why not a beautiful portrait, as well?
Speaking of Fain, I definitely thought that the dagger that killed Kisman was going to be his. Instead, we have discovered that Rand has a new (or possible old?) enemy whose also poison-dagger happy and also kind of obsessed with Rand and also two people in one body somehow. Or two people sharing one body, in Luc’s case.
We now have confirmation that the man Perrin knows as Slayer and the Two Rivers folk know as Lord Luc is, in fact, Rand’s uncle, Tigraine’s brother Luc. As I was reminded by a reader, Luc and Isam were actually mentioned in the Blood Calls Blood prophecy that was written on the prison walls in Fal Dara, way back in The Great Hunt. For those who like me, completely forgot about it, here’s the relevant passage.
Luc came to the Mountains of Dhoom. Isam waited in the high passes. The hunt is now begun. The Shadow's hounds now course, and kill. One did live, and one did die, but both are.
I’ll be interested to see where this goes, and if the hunted wolves mentioned at the end of the chapter are meant to refer to Rand, or Perrin, or both.
Far Madding is a fascinating addition to the world of The Wheel of Time. Sarene theorizes that the Guardian was created during the Breaking by female Aes Sedai who were trying to protect the area from the male channelers, and it’s not a bad theory, but it does seem incomplete. The fact that the area of effect is different for wielders of saidin than it is for wielders of saidar suggests that the two effects had to be built into the ter’angreal (or set of ter’angreal, as Sarene mentions that it might be three individual ter’angreal that work together, instead of a single one) separately. If their intention was to protect the area from men driven mad by the taint, why would they also create an area which blocks women from being able to access the True Source as well? If there were one aspect of the Guardian that could block both halves of the One Power, one would expect the radius of the affected area would be the same.
Of course, nothing is certain about the ter’angreal from the age of Legends. Maybe there is a reason that one ter’angreal blocking the True Source for everyone might have different ranges for the different halves of the One Power, perhaps because (presumably) no saidin was used in the creation of the Guardian. Or maybe the Aes Sedai during the Breaking wanted to block saidar as well as saidin, for some reason. We may never find out how it works or why it works, though I would love to know. But an even more interesting question, for me, is why the ter’angreal affects the area the way a stedding does, rather than the way shielding does.
Let us consider for a moment what the One Power actually is, and what channeling actually is. We know that some people have the ability to reach out and access the True Source, from which comes the energy that powers the whole universe, and which humans call the One Power. This is the energy that turns the Wheel of Time, the energy that drives Creation, but it is important to note that it is not Creation itself. The One Power does not make up the Pattern, is not itself the rocks and trees and animals and people. And while channelers consider the flows of the One Power, whether saidar or saidin, to break down further into five elements—Air, Fire, Water, Earth, and Spirit, each of which corresponds to the manipulation of the “element” for which it is named—they are not directly interacting with a rock or the air, but rather using the One Power to affect and control them. The One Power is a tool that can be used to manipulate the physical and the metaphysical, just more incredible and primordial than any tool that can be made by man.
At least, that is how I understand it. The One Power comes from, and is accessed through, the True Source; it is not pulled from the environment around you. Thus, shielding works by putting a barrier between the channeler and the True Source. This barrier is perceptible to anyone who can channel the corresponding half of the One Power from which the shield is made, including the shielded person, and the True Source can still be felt, just not reached.
It’s not hard to imagine a second type of shield, perhaps more all-encompassing and “complete” than what is created by one channeler to block another, which might be strong enough to stop the shielded person from even being able to sense or “see” the True Source at all, but you would expect such a barrier to still be perceptible in some way, especially when you cross it. But channelers entering the area around Far Madding don’t experience a sense of being blocked from the True Source; instead, they feel like it just suddenly isn’t there at all.
There is nothing I currently understand about how the One Power works that quite makes sense of why the stedding are the way they are, both in terms of affecting channeling and in terms of how being away from the stedding affects Ogier. Perhaps there is some kind of metaphysical magnetic field that confuses or closes off the same place inside a channeler that is made empty when they are stilled or gentled, rendering them unable to sense the source in the same way that stilling does, just not permanently? Perhaps the ancient Aes Sedai discovered this quality in the earth or the trees or the stones of the stedding and learned to replicate it. Perhaps the Guardian doesn’t actually affect channeling, only monitors it, as we see it do in chapter 24. No one really understands how the thing works, only that it does, but if it has the capability to point towards channeling, then it must have a range even farther out than the areas in which each half of channeling is blocked.
Shalon believes that it was Jahar who channeled, that he was deliberately sent away from the group to do so in order to facilitate the little act that Verin and Cadsuane put on, and that does seem to be the case. Shalon doesn’t know the Aes Sedai in general and these Aes Sedai in particular well enough to understand the game they’re playing, but the reader does, and I personally loved seeing these two masters of the Great Game working together, and the way that Verin is using her usual “I’m just a scatter-brained Brown” routine in Cadsuane’s favor. I also find myself thinking about how carefully Verin needs to play this, since she also uses that routine to disguise things about herself from everyone, including Cadsuane. We’ll see a little more of Verin in the coming chapters, however, so I’ll come back to the puzzle that is Verin Mathwin next week. And the question of why, exactly, she is claiming to be named Eadwina. I did enjoy the way she got around the Three Oaths by saying “you may call me Eadwina.” Note that she didn’t say her name is Eadwina. The truth you hear, and all that.
I’m also wondering how people born in Far Madding find out that they are channelers. I suppose that the city is not so large that people would be likely to spend their whole lives there without leaving; on the other hand, it’s not part of a larger country anymore, so moving away would require becoming a citizen of another nation. Somehow it makes sense to me that Cadsuane was born there, though I couldn't say exactly why.
Like the stedding, Far Madding could in theory provide refuge to men born with the spark, but of course it is very difficult for a channeler to live with the pain of being stilled, and remaining in Far Madding would be effectively the same experience as being stilled, just with the added temptation to leave. But I wonder if it could work for a man who had only recently touched the True Source to move there, if the addiction to the One Power wouldn’t be too strong in the beginning. I also wonder if there's ever been a man born with the spark who lived inside the radius that blocks male channeling, whose life has never been upended by the discovery of his abilities.
If he stayed inside the radius until well into adulthood, what would happen if he suddenly left it? Does he need time/exposure for his ability to manifest itself, or would it suddenly burst forth like the breaking of a dam? It’s interesting to ponder.
I have so much empathy for Shalon and the position she finds herself in. Her relationship with her younger but higher-ranking sister is an interesting one, and it's nice to see a little of the Sea Folk culture from the inside, rather than the outside. I admit that I’ve been having a little bit of a hard time keeping track of all the various Aes Sedai who are sworn to Rand now, and those following Cadsuane, but Shalon's general impression of their dynamic was really interesting to read. The fact that she considers their strength-based hierarchy to be silly fits with the opinions of the Kin and the Wise Ones, and indeed, my own, and I was particularly interested in her impression that Verin was only traveling alongside Cadsuane, not crewing Cadsuane’s boat. I think Verin is always in her own boat, pulling alongside with anyone who happens to be traveling in the same direction as her and who she can use to her own ends, while simultaneously making it look like she is serving their ends, either willingly or out of duty, depending. I would have loved to hear the conversation between her and Cadsuane, and to know what Cadsuane thinks of her. There was a brief mention in an earlier Cadsuane section where she seemed to understand Verin a little bit better than some, but she is probably still unaware of much of Verin’s scheming nature. She probably let Cadsuane take the lead on the planning (and indeed, has to defer to her in any case) but I’d be interested to know if she contributed anything to Cadsuane’s plan of manipulating the Counsels.
The fact that Far Madding requires all visitors to either leave their weapons at the bridges or to have them peace-tied feels very in keeping with the fact that it is almost a place that blocks the ability to channel. The One Power is not just a weapon, of course, and Aes Sedai are limited in the ways they can use it as weapon (in the literal, conventional sense, anyway) but one could still argue that, metaphorically, channeler’s abilities are peace tied the same way that the swords are. Furthermore, a channeler’s identity is very much tied to their connection to the One Power, very similarly to the way a swordsman’s is to his blade. Not for every man who carries a sword, of course, but for a soldier or merchant’s guard, or a blademaster, or, say, a man whose title is Swordmaster to a Wavemistress. The Far Madding people may believe that no man needs to defend himself in the city because the Street Guards take care of that, but for someone who lives by the sword, it is no causal matter to cede that protection and sense of identity to someone else. And it is no small matter for a channeler to give up their connection to the True Source, even if they enter Far Madding of their own volition.
Some of the channelers with Cadsuane, of course, aren’t entirely there of their own volition. Shalon has to travel with and obey Harine, and she wasn’t even warned ahead of time that she would undergo such an experience. It’s interesting to watch her feelings change the longer she is inside the area of the Guardian’s effect: At first it doesn’t seem so bad, but the more time passes the more acutely she feels the emptiness, and the more she fears never being able to sense the True Source again. Her discomfiture is so apparent that Harine even recognizes it and treats her with much more sympathy and intimacy than is usual between the sisters—so much so that Shalon even begins to wonder if it would be worth telling Harine the truth about her relationship to Ailil and, presumably, being blackmailed by Cadsuane.
Next week we will learn more about what Cadsuane and Verin are up to, and bear witness to a very interesting conversation between Rand and Alanna. Then Elayne and Egwene will have an interesting meeting in Tel’aran’rhiod, and Elayne deals with some more interesting politics. Among other things. I’ll see you all then for chapters 25 and 26!
Also, Rand’s fight with Rochaid and Kisman was very theatrical, and very cool. I really enjoyed Chapter 22, it might be my favorite chapter in Winter’s Heart so far. [end-mark]
The Mad Max: Fury Road prequel Furiosa is set to release in theaters in mere weeks, and Total Film magazine has a feature on the film coming out in its latest issue. One of the tidbits in that piece includes details about a fifteen-minute action sequence dubbed “Stairway to Nowhere” that involved over two hundred stunt people and took seventy-eight days to shoot.
That’s certainly a lot! But for anyone who has seen George Miller’s Fury Road, that seems about right for his prequel, where Anya Taylor-Joy takes on the titular role, a part that Charlize Theron played in the previous film. What’s perhaps more interesting is the fact that Taylor-Joy did all these driving stunts even though she has never had a driver’s license! (She apparently had to learn to do a J-turn on her first day of stunt school even so.) The sequence is meant to be formative for Furiosa.
"George and I would have these big conversations about why this particular set-piece was so long," Taylor-Joy told Total Film. “It’s because you see an accumulation of skills over the course of a battle, and that’s very important for understanding how resourceful Furiosa is, but also her grit. It’s the longest sequence any of us have ever shot. On the day we finished, everybody got a 'Stairway To Nowhere' wine!”
Cheers to that!
In addition to Taylor-Joy, Furiosa stars Chris Hemsworth as Warlord Dementus, the leader of a Biker Horde who captured Furiosa when she was a child, leading her to a quest for vengeance that we presumably see unfold in the upcoming film.
We can bear witness to this action sequence and see Taylor-Joy’s unlicensed driving skills when Furiosa zooms its way into theaters on May 24, 2024. [end-mark]
True Blood and Magic Mike actor Joe Manganiello is set to star in and produce a feature adaptation of Keith C. Blackmore’s zombie thriller, Mountain Man. The Mountain Man books, of which there are seven, centers on a man named Gus Berry who, according to the blurb for the first novel, “must survive the zombie apocalypse armed with only a shotgun, a Samurai bat, and the will to live among the unliving.”
Here's the rest of the description for the first book, Mountain Man, to give you more details on the story:
It’s been two years since civilization ended in an unstoppable wave of chaos and blood. Now, former house painter Augustus “Gus” Berry lives a day-to-day existence of waking up, getting drunk, and preparing for the inevitable moment when “they” will come up the side of his mountain and penetrate his fortress. Living on the outskirts of Annapolis, Gus goes scavenging for whatever supplies remain in the undead suburbia below. Every time he descends the mountain could be his last. But when Gus encounters another survivor, he soon realizes the zombie horde may not be the greatest threat he faces.
According to Deadline, the other survivor is a “captivating woman who poses another threat altogether.” Manganiello will play Gus, and the project has John Lee (False Positive) on board to direct, with a script written up by Matt Deller. Manganiello will be producing along with his brother, Nick, via their company 3:59, as well as Danny Chan (Barbarian).
“John is a brilliant creative mind. We’ve been looking for the right thing to do together since we filmed Pee Wee’s Big Holiday and it’s finally here,” Joe and Nick Manganiello told Deadline. “Very excited to get to work on such weird, wild project with him.”
No news on when this project will go into production, though the team is looking to sell it at Cannes this year. [end-mark]
We're thrilled to share an excerpt from Indian Burial Ground by Nick Medina, a mythological horror novel available now from Berkley.
All Noemi Broussard wanted was a fresh start. With a new boyfriend who actually treats her right and a plan to move from the reservation she grew up on—just like her beloved Uncle Louie before her—things are finally looking up for Noemi. Until the news of her boyfriend’s apparent suicide brings her world crumbling down.
But the facts about Roddy’s death just don’t add up, and Noemi isn’t the only one who suspects that something menacing might be lurking within their tribal lands.
After over a decade away, Uncle Louie has returned to the reservation, bringing with him a past full of secrets, horror, and what might be the key to determining Roddy’s true cause of death. Together, Noemi and Louie set out to find answers… but as they get closer to the truth, Noemi begins to wonder whether it might be best for some secrets to remain buried.
Prologue
She couldn’t feel her feet. Not her knees or her hips either. Running like a Thoroughbred in a race, no one would know that she’d been limping just thirty minutes earlier, from her front door to her Jeep, favoring her left ankle, swollen and plum purple.
Maximus bore the blame for her sprain. If the damn dog hadn’t snatched her phone from her hand, she wouldn’t have chased him yesterday in the yard, and she wouldn’t have rolled her ankle on the knot of wood—probably chewed up by old Maximus himself—hidden in the grass. Pain had made her grimace with each tender step thereafter, but now, despite the force of her wide, rapid strides driving her feet hard against the asphalt, she didn’t feel any pain at all.
Just worry and dread.
He might still be alive, she thought. Please, let him be alive.
It couldn’t have taken her more than a minute to run down the road to the Grand Nacre Casino and Resort, which was glittering in the light of the descending sun. She would have called for help from the Jeep if she could have found her phone. It’d been in the cupholder beside her when she’d set off for work, earlier than usual because the bum ankle would slow her down—thanks again, Maximus—but after she’d swerved the Jeep to the left in a desperate Hail‑Mary‑hold‑tight at‑ tempt to avoid the inevitable, the cupholder was empty, the Jeep was on its side, and the man she’d tried not to hit was partially wrapped around the base of the tree trunk that’d prevented him from flying into the woods that bordered the road.
Sounds from the impact remained within her. Taylor Swift singing “Anti‑Hero,” silent now. The deafening crash of the Jeep. The report of the man’s ribs meeting metal. The sickening crack of his skull against glass. Its top down, she’d clung to the Jeep’s steering wheel as the vehicle, toppling in slow motion, rolled onto its side like her ankle on that knot of wood.
Call an ambulance, she’d shrieked at Caleb Guidry, ragged nails between his teeth, at the security station just beyond the casino’s sliding glass doors.
What’s wrong, Lena? A piece of nail shot from his mouth. Used to her flirty smiles as she enticed high rollers to her blackjack table through the swing shift hours, he’d never seen her so worked up before.
She’d shouted other things at him in response
… Man…
… Hit him…
… Up the road…
HURRY!
before turning right around and pounding the pavement again.
Please don’t be dead. She wondered if Caleb had summoned the ambulance yet. The resort had medics on‑site. It wouldn’t take them long to arrive.
I’m alive, had been her first thought after the toppled Jeep touched down, relief and disbelief swelling within her. Her fingers made quick work of disengaging the seat belt that had kept her head from cracking against the ground, an old commercial surfacing in her mind.
Thisisyourbrainondrugs.
But it was only half an oxy she’d taken, for the pain in her ankle, and it’d worn off by the time she’d left for work.
Having retched on the road’s shoulder upon spying the unmoving man, she’d been too terrified to scurry toward the trees to see if he still had a pulse. The blood was what kept her at bay, spreading through his clothes, his hair.
His heart must have been beating, she thought hopefully as she returned to the Jeep, lying like a murdered elephant in the road. He wouldn’t be bleeding if his heart wasn’t beating.
Feeling the sprint’s toll on her neglected cardiovascular system, she slowed to a brisk walk, wheezing all the way. Even when she took Maximus to the park, he did all the running while she stood station‑ ary, throwing sticks and balls for him to fetch.
“Please,” she gasped, then, “Why? WHY?” as she tried to make sense of what the man had done, her ears searching for sirens. Still, they didn’t come.
Feeling wavy inside, as if her skin were a sack filled with water, she wanted to collapse like the Jeep. Maybe then someone would come along and do the things she couldn’t, like put pressure on an open wound or start mouth‑to‑mouth resuscitation.
His back was broken, his spine curved the wrong way around the tree trunk. Just seeing it again in her mind’s eye made her stomach judder. She spat on the road, which was littered with shattered glass, amber bits of a broken side marker, her handbag, empty and half‑full water bottles that she’d habitually tossed into the passenger side foot‑ well, the Starbucks cup that had held her Salted Caramel Cream Cold Brew—ordered only minutes earlier—and the cherry‑blast‑scented Little Trees air freshener that had somehow come loose from the rear‑ view mirror. Still, there was no sign of her phone. And still, she saw no ambulance on the horizon.
Dizzy and defeated, she staggered to the shoulder, then screamed and leaped back toward the middle of the road—much the way the man had seemingly leaped in front of the Jeep—at the sigh of a coyote, half the size of Maximus yet far more fearsome, standing over the man’s body. Head low, ears up, mouth open, glistening red teeth on display, the canine growled.
Back into the hot, irradiated desert landscape we go (though in California this time): Prime Video has renewed Fallout for a second season. The show is (according to Amazon) one of the three most-watched series ever for that streaming platform, and "the most-watched season globally since Rings of Power." We just love our franchise stories, don't we!
Fallout is based on the video game series of the same name, and stars Ella Purnell as a sheltered Vault Dweller who leaves her underground home to discover a world gone very weird. Said weird world includes Aaron Moten as a soldier and Walton Goggins as the noseless Ghoul. A whole pile of interesting actors play secondary characters, including Kyle MacLachlan, Sarita Choudhury, Michael Emerson, Leslie Uggams, Frances Turner, Zach Cherry, and Xelia Mendes-Jones.
Response to the first season has been generally quite positive, from video game fans and newbies alike; writing for Entertainment Weekly, Kristen Baldwin said, "The eight-episode season exists in a vivid and captivating universe that will be familiar to gamers — though knowledge of the franchise isn't required to enjoy its darkly comic dystopian pleasures."
In a press release, co-creators and showrunners Geneva Robertson-Dworet and Graham Wagner said, “Holy shit. Thank you to Jonah [Nolan], Kilter, Bethesda and Amazon for having the courage to make a show that gravely tackles all of society's most serious problems these days -- cannibalism, incest, jello cake. More to come!"
The first season of Fallout is available on Prime Video.[end-mark]
Welcome back to Dissecting The Dark Descent, where we lovingly delve into the guts of David Hartwell’s seminal 1987 anthology story by story, and in the process, explore the underpinnings of a genre we all love. For an in-depth introduction, here’s the intro post.
Theodore Sturgeon is probably best known for his science fiction work. Over his prolific career, he wrote countless novels and stories (some which dealt with homosexuality and queer themes, a rarity for the 1950s) touching on humanity, relationships, psychology, and gender politics. His motto was always “Ask the next question,” a phrase meant to encourage people to keep thinking past established knowledge and tradition. His horror and crime work were similarly groundbreaking, taking his gift for psychologically complex situations and explorations of humanity and applying it to terrifying effect. All of this is on display in “Bright Segment.” While the premise of a grotesque introvert nursing a young ingenue back to health is one that’s been played for tragedy, horror, and (perversely enough) romantic comedy, Sturgeon’s gift for the psychological allows him to twist that simplistic premise into a tragic and horrifying noir. By setting the human and monstrous sides of his troubled protagonist into conflict, Sturgeon offers a more complex and tragic take on a familiar narrative.
A fifty-six-year-old department store janitor finds a young woman with razorblade wounds bleeding out near his apartment. Suddenly gripped by a strange impulse, he scoops her up and brings her into his home, knowing nothing about her. As she bleeds out on his floor, he desperately begins the long and gruesome process of treating her wounds, hoping to “fix it right” and save her before he has a dead body on his hands and the police start asking questions. As she recuperates, unconscious, he finds himself becoming more and more fond of her presence. While he spends his time “fixing” his new guest and tending to her wounds and infections, an uncomfortable question arises between them: What happens when she’s healed, and their time inevitably comes to an end?
What makes “Bright Segment” a tragedy is something right there in the title. The protagonist, a man with the appearance and social graces of a fairytale ogre, finds the only bright moments in his life when he tends to the wounded young woman. He’s resourceful and intelligent, figuring out how to treat slashes from razor blades (he fixes a femoral arterywound, something that usually means death from blood loss in a matter of minutes) and perform major surgery with a sewing kit and some silversmithing tools. Despite being in a high-stress situation, he’s able to think through his actions clearly and run through a list of possible options while under pressure. Within the confines of his apartment, in his interior landscape, he’s capable of functioning at a high level, even better than most people.
When other people enter the equation, though, things get more complicated. The protagonist speaks in broken sentence fragments and with a limited vocabulary, possibly due to some verbal or psychological handicap. His social interactions are stunted—he mentions early on that in fifty-six years he’s barely talked to anyone apart from when shopping or going to work, and it’s painfully awkward to watch him call in sick. He’s even aware of how he’s seen by others, with his internal monologue hinting at trauma and harassment that forced him into his current grotesque and socially stunted state. It’s become cliché to say, “he’s not evil, just misunderstood,” but that’s what makes the main character a tragic monster: He’s incapable of being understood by anyone, and incapable of understanding anyone else. Whether through his own actions or the psychological battery of the world around him, he’s completely incapable of functioning in society. This is even seen when he takes care of the young woman, whom he treats more like a treasured pet than a human being, buying her nice things and keeping her cooped up inside. When she tries to do something for him—going outside his understanding of their relationship by taking initiative and making him a full breakfast—he reacts violently, screaming “You don’t fix! I fix everything!”
That violence is where the tragedy and horror fully come into play. “Bright Segment” is an apt title—the time between the ogre and the young woman in his home is a finite moment, a segment in time that must end. As much as he wants to believe otherwise, she’s a real, human person with her own wants, desires, and agency. When she finally reveals she can talk and lays out exactly how she came to be bleeding out on the street, the moment ends. It must. She can’t live in the protagonist’s apartment forever. Meanwhile, he can’t see beyond the moment, reacting with shock, horror, and sadness when he realizes that he’ll go back to being trapped in his head alone. It's not a betrayal and the readers know treating a human woman like a pet isn’t sustainable without something bad happening, but to him, the only person capable of understanding him, the only other person in his whole world, suddenly wants to leave. In that moment of despair, he (maybe accidentally) hits her in the back of the head with an iron and gets back to work “fixing” her so he can start the process all over again, keeping her imprisoned in his room.
With that transformative act (one telegraphed by the impulse to pick up the young woman in the first place), the main character becomes the monstrous figure his outward appearance suggests, and the tragedy coalesces. When faced with losing his toxic, one-sided relationship, he acts out of desperation and does the only thing he can think of to sustain it. The illusion is immediately shattered. That he lashes out and forces the cycle to continue in a moment of subconscious violence is the horror. Understanding that he committed an act of violence (and possibly killed someone, it’s left ambiguous at the end of the story) to maintain an illusion of social acceptability—one that even he has started to realize was unsustainable—is the tragedy. His attempts to “fix it right” again and keeping the woman as a pet are monstrous, but the disconnect from any kind of normal socialization, pain, trauma, and our glimpse at an interior world add pathos and make him more than a simple monster. He’s still a monster, but a more complex and tragic monster for his downward spiral.
The synthesis of the tragic and monstrous is important in how “Bright Segment” elevates its central character. He might be a misunderstood societal outcast, but he still acts in villainous, impulsive, childish, and damaging ways. He might be a monster, but his internal monologue, rich interior life, and desperate need to be understood by someone else add a definitive note of tragedy. For all “human monsters” are easy to characterize as base grotesques driven by irrational impulse, actually watching the janitor struggle with his humanity and nature only for his more monstrous side to violently reassert itself has more of a ring of truth. He’s a tragic figure driven by impulse and emotion who desperately scrabbles for humanity only to lose everything (ironically enough) when, in a moment of crisis, he decides to hold on to that humanity (and his now unwilling captive) too tightly. “Bright Segment” might be about a human monster, but it understands the complexity of both “human” and “monster,” and that both are important.
And now to turn it over to you. Was the janitor in “Bright Segment” a monster, a tragic figure, or both? Have you read much of Sturgeon’s horror and crime work? Does the ambiguity at the end of “Bright Segment” add to the complexity, or take it away by possibly making it possible to interpret the main character’s final act an accident?
Please join us in two weeks as we watch a mad doctor destroy minds piece-by-piece in master of horror-fantasy Clive Barker’s extreme horror story, “Dread.”[end-mark]
Just want to remind everyone today that they have worth. For no reason, of course.
Summary
The former Dean, now the Archchancellor of Brazeneck, meets up with Ridcully and the two of them snipe back and forth until Ridcully almost agrees to a match against Brazeneck that could result in his Archchancellor hat being wagered. Ponder talks him down on account of being an entire committee’s worth of important positions at the university. The two men head off to eat while Nutt brings up how the wizards might go about learning to actually play football effectively. Ponder is astounded at Nutt’s acumen, and wonders how he became a polymath, but remembers something vague about how he ended up at the school and instead asks for his help. Nutt agrees and tries to get Trev on the team, but Trev promised his mother that he wouldn’t, so Nutt simply asks for his expertise. Ponder puts Nutt in charge of the football, and the next day Ridcully finds the team practicing ballet to increase their agility and grace. The university’s Master of Music presents them with his first (overwrought) football chant. Glenda realizes that she’s been adhering to rules that don’t really exist, and decides that she will serve at the banquet that evening.
As the banquet begins, Nutt tells everyone what he’s been working on with the team and leaves to get them ready for a demonstration while Glenda inserts herself into the banquet server crew. She notes that the attendees are all being given food that is likely too much for their palates. Vetinari arrives and winds up suggesting that Unseen and Brazeneck should have a football match for the Archchancellor hat, feeling that it will be a healthy challenge between institutions. Nutt creates a very impressive display in the lighting of the chandelier, using dwarfish techniques that he essentially reverse engineered himself. Vetinari introduces the Unseen Academicals team and requests that another team of football enthusiasts play them, according to the ancient (but modified) rules they have discovered. By getting the city’s team captains drunk, this all goes off without a hitch—apart from the point where Swithin, captain of the Cockbill Boars, gets so drunk that he tries to slap Vetinari on the back and drunkenly rants to him. The next day, Glenda decides that she is very angry with how Vetinari manipulated things and bribes her way into the palace to complain about it.
Vetinari deduces a number of things about Glenda because her grandmother used to be the cook for the Assassin’s Guild. However, he is unrepentant about the changes he has made to football, and thanks her for being kind to Nutt. Glenda heads back to the university and runs into Pepe, who is still looking for Juliet because everyone is at the moment. Glenda brings him in through the back and finds that Juliet has been baking (half decent) pies. She realizes that she’s been holding the girl back and tells her that she can either leave and see the world and model, or stay and figure things out with Trev, but that she needs to make the choice now and get out. Juliet leaves with Pepe, and Concrete finds Glenda; he’s looking for Trev because Nutt is sick. Trev and Glenda find Nutt ill in the vat area and, at his request, they chain him down and help him to hypnotize himself so that he can figure out what has been wrong this whole time. There is a cupboard in his mind that he promised Ladyship he would not open, but when he does he finds out the secret of his heritage: He is not a goblin, he is an orc. The birdlike guards (Furies from Ephebe) assigned to Nutt come down to warn Glenda and Trev, but they shoo them away, insisting he is their friend.
Glenda tells Trev what Juliet isn’t saying, about her new job as a fashion model. Trev knows that the right thing is to let Juliet go, and he and Glenda go to Nutt’s room to try and convince him that he’s still capable of training the football team and generally being around people. Glenda then heads to the library. The Librarian shows her a terrible woodcutting from a book on orcs, which then leads her to the necromancy department where Professor Hix brings up the information he showed Ridcully on orcs when Nutt arrived at the school. The image from the past show orcs in battle, but Glenda notices they’re being driven by whip. Mister Ottomy tells her that he plans to complain to Ridcully about an orc being at the school, and Glenda threatens him for it. Trev and Juliet can’t find Nutt anywhere, and the group decide that he may have tried to run away, back to Uberwald, so they board a coach to Sto Lat to track him down. They find him on the side of the road being attacked by the Furies, and the passengers in the coach help Glenda chase them off. They all make it to Sto Lat, talking the whole way about what gives a person “worth,” as Ladyship directed. The coach stops behind the Lancre Flyer because its horse has thrown a shoe; Nutt offers to fix the problem.
Commentary
This whole section is philosophical musings end-to-end, starting with Glenda’s thoughts on the “invisible hammer.” Essentially, she’s made braver as the story progresses by the realization that most people are controlled by the belief that something bad will happen if they don’t follow rules—and the people enforcing the rules are counting on that. It’s amazing to realize the things people can be convinced of, just by the vague suggestions of a consequence around social orders and hierarchies. The more she pushes back, the more often she realizes that no one is willing to call her on infractions so long as she’s confident. (It’s very similar to the rules of the con, in fact.)
Glenda’s learning a lot of things throughout, and while most of them are putting together truths about the world that she’s always half-known, some are helpful revelations about how she treats Juliet. Pratchett would talk about how he couldn’t manage to write “soppy” women as protagonists, but the real thing I give him credit for is never entirely blaming women who are a bit soppy by acknowledging that a person becomes that due to how they're treated. When Glenda sees Juliet tried to bake pies and bemoans that Juliet’s never been any good at the task, she has a moment of pause—and notes that Juliet never got good at it because any time something was difficult for her, Glenda simply took over. And then she notices that Juliet’s pies aren’t even half bad.
It’s a microcosm of a very common problem with the hyper-competent female characters of the ’90s and early aughts that used to drive me batty; if you spend all your time doing for others because you can’t stand the idea of things not being done to your exacting standards, then who’s to blame for the fact that you have to do everything yourself? Glenda is the victim of her own competence, and more to the point, the way that she treats Juliet is no longer aiding her friend—it’s preventing her from growing up.
And then… we come to that banquet.
I can’t help but think there’s a very deliberate jibe at Harry Potter (again) when Ridcully admits that he doesn’t wear the Archchancellor hat too often because it nags him, and Vetinari’s response is that he cannot possibly own it because if the hat speaks and thinks, it is a sentient being and therefore cannot be owned because that would make it a slave. *gestures frantically* It’s hilariously pointed in a way that feels too on-the-nose not to be intentional.
We then come to the inevitable philosophical musings from Vetinari about… the nature of morality? These thoughts do feel as though they were appended to this story for lack of a better place to drop them, not that I mind in the slightest. It’s bemusing mostly for the fact that the Patrician tells us about his discovery of evil in childhood: Happening across a mother otter and her young, who eat a salmon filled with roe. In Havelock Vetinari’s mind, this is an example that proves evil is built into the fabric of the universe because mother and child ate mother and child in the “natural order.” It’s full Hobbesian state-of-nature discourse.
Of course, this is immediately complicated by proffering even a few messy additions to these observations; that we cannot be sure that the otters are aware (in the fully sentient sense) of what they’re eating, or that applying human morality to animals is a weird exercise in any scenario, just to start. Again, it suggests a tenderness to Havelock Vetinari’s person that I don’t think he’s aware he is revealing in that moment. (He’s drunk, too, which is certainly another factor in this entire discussion.) The fact that this observation emotionally affected him to such a degree is telling us far more about him than it is about the nature of evil. And even more important is his takeaway from this formative moment:
“If there is any kind of supreme being, I told myself, it is up to all of us to become his moral superior.”
That feels incredibly thoughts-of-the-author to me. And, you know… I can get down with that.
And then we move to the question of Nutt’s ability to live among people. We’re supposed to stick with that phrase, the question he keeps asking: Do I have worth? Which sounds so innocent on its face, the thought that all people want to have some form of worth, to be sure of it. But as the story continues, we find that’s it’s not so simple, that the concept of worth has been instilled in Nutt by Lady Margolotta as a defense mechanism to keep him alive—if he’s personable, if he’s helpful, if he’s useful, that might be enough to save him, to keep him from harm.
When the trio track him down on the side of the road and the people in the Sto Lat stagecoach are good to Nutt after learning that he’s an orc, Glenda has a moment where she is shocked by the kindness of this crowd, who are not terribly educated (in the bookish sense), are not by and large very clever but, in a strange “democratic” way, choose to accept Nutt in that moment. But then we move on to this thought:
It was heartwarming, but Glenda’s heart was a little bit calloused on this score. It was the crab bucket at its best. Sentimental and forgiving; but get it wrong—one wrong word, one wrong liaison, one wrong thought—and those nurturing arms could so easily end in fists. Nutt was right: at best, being an orc was to live under threat.
Which is a perfect distillation of the plight of any “othered” person and, I think very intentionally, far more direct in its point than any of the Discworld books have ever been about identity and how it can shape people’s lives. And yet there’s hope, of course. The hope that we find in how the stagecoach driver interprets Nutt’s words:
“Of course, all he’s saying is you’ve got to do your best,” said the driver. “And the more best you’re capable of, the more you should do. That’s it, really.”
As always, being able to distill profound thoughts into shorter, more direct terms is a gift. It doesn’t get much more profound—or useful—than that.
Asides and little thoughts
Admittedly, I’m not going to get most of the sport references throughout this book, but when the UU’s Master of Music started in on the chant using Bengo Macarona’s name as a placeholder, my brain went “oh, Diego Maradona,” and I felt just a little bit good about my brain ability to hold onto trivia for something that I know nothing about whatsoever.
Ridcully “felt his grandfather kick him in the heredity” and that one is gonna stick with me for a while as a way of describing ancestral memory.
Who bought Vetinari the “To the world’s Greatest Boss” mug? Who?? I accept three options for this mystery. 1) It was Drumknott, and Vetinari feels the need to display it out of respect for his hard work and the need for his best clerk’s psyche to remain intact; 2) it was Vimes, he did it as a mean joke, and Vetinari displays it happily to get back at him; 3) Vetinari bought it for himself to confuse and upset everyone.
Pratchettisms
Perhaps it was the look of someone permanently doing sums in his head, and not just proper sums either, but the sneaky sort with letters in them.
There followed the menacing silence of a clash of wills, but Ponder decided that as he was, technically, twelve important people at the university, he formed, all by himself, a committee, and since he was therefore, de facto, very wise, he should intervene.
“Oh, I take an interest,” said Vetinari. “I believe that football is a lot like life.”
“Only people who are very trustworthy would dare to look as untrustworthy and me and Madame.”
She’s be a little happier if, even, the lovers could be thrown into the mixing bowl of life. At least it would be some acknowledgment that people actually ate food.
