The Best* Opinions

*subject to horrible taste. Welcome to my review blog. Here you'll find pages devoted to comic books, regular books, TV shows and occasionally something more experimental; I dabble in trope analysis, power-scaling and shipping. The tone is wordy and informal; I consider myself a thoughtful meathead. Feel free to drop asks in the box, of a mostly light-hearted nature, or check in about my Horrible Playlist. He/him. Autistic. Private. I post original works and fanfiction on my AO3 here.

[readingtoinfinity]

Dandara: Trials of Fear Edition

In a bizarre world where the oppressed are on the verge of extinction, Dandara is summoned as a representative of the Salt, the power of this non-Euclidean world.

I was not overall really impressed with this game. I was wowed by the idea of the movement system it created: that is, you point Dandara and she'll jump between specially marked white surfaces, something like with Portal, except she jumps directly. This makes for a unique mode of traversal and exploration where, though you have a map, you have to account for personal rotation as well as rotation of the map.

Unfortunately, the combat is where I started encountering hangups. It's a Metroidvania in the style of Metroid so you're given a ranged weapon. The game was designed controller first, so you're expected to use it to aim but the computer does the rest; you get nothing so helpful with aiming your own weapon, and the finicky nature of using the thumbsticks stands out when you don't have help.

I also didn't enjoy any of the bosses. Primarily, the bosses just compound the preexisting aiming problem, and it could be the hardness was off-putting to me, but I found them mostly just tedious.

"Tedius" is a word we could use to describe the 100%ing process of this game as well. Most of the power-ups you acquire are just designed to make things easier on you; you don't actually have to get many of the power-ups to see the end of the game, which I find commendable in a Metroidvania, full stop. But it does mean some uses of the upgrades are obtuse, and it runs into the problem of the way Dandara gives exposition.

There exists a dichotomy between video game characters and the player. The Chosen Undead in Dark Souls doesn't know that resting at a bonfire causes enemies to respawn; in their mind, it is a chance to rest before heading back into the angry hordes. As such, games have to walk a tightrope when talking about the mechanics of the game, somewhere between "press A to jump" and this game: it's almost entirely in-world knowledge about a given upgrade that you have to figure out given context clues, and while something like the memory item that activates the orange skulls can be listed as "activating the memories of a bygone era", I have no idea what the Logic Blast is for specifically beyond bouncing it around corners. I've done some googling; I would have been interesting in filling out the upgrades just for the sake of completion rather than my own investment, but there's not a lot of information out there about how to find stuff, or at least it's not formatted very well for mid-game checklists.

This last point is not a criticism towards the game itself, but it is a reason that I'm not going to fill out the game file and fight the true final boss. I have gotten the game's normal ending, and I can be satisfied with that. But if all of this is sounding like something you'd enjoy - if the thought of obtuse, head-against-wall mysteries fills you with glee - this is probably going to be an excellent addition to your collection.

Time played: 13.4 hours.

[readingtoinfinity]

The Last Day of H.P. Lovecraft

Howard Phillips Lovecraft, small-time writer, recluse, perfectionist, atheist, racist and socialist, is dying. His last day on Earth is playing out about as he expected it to, but someone comes along to ruin it, enticing him with dreams and fables of the afterlife.

This book is not nearly so supernatural as I was expecting it to be. There is an element of the speculative about a few things here and there, but for the most part we're unsure if Lovecraft's journey through the realms of the afterlife are delusions of a dying man, or something really supernatural.

It's a book that takes a critical but sympathetic eye to Lovecraft, the man, and Lovecraft, the mythos and legacy. It's unafraid to condemn things that Lovecraft believed but also uses the man himself and his beliefs at his time of death as a defense. It also allows Lovecraft to see the future and his legacy, and those who use the things that broke boundaries but view it as an embarrassment that he was the one to do so.

Like all great books about death and legacy, it refuses to give an easy answer for any of the questions it raises. Even Lovecraft himself, depressed and atheistic as he was, didn't believe death should be avoided, and welcomed it as any other natural thing. Combine this with the surreal and disturbing art and the unflinching look at ourselves for how we view Lovecraft, and I think it's a book well worth your time if you care about cosmic horror.

(Although, if you're bad at reading cursive, like I am, you may want to find a translator.)

[readingtoinfinity]

Be Not Afraid

Cora Reims was a simple girl, at least until she was 17 and met an angel, who she grew to knew. But this angel was not any ordinary angel, and the son she gave birth to was not any ordinary son: a Nephilim, a combination of holy and mortal. The thing she's given birth to, Jordy, is vile, sadistic and evil in every regard, and he grew from a child to an adult before his mother did, bringing with him all signs of the end of the world. Now, just when she's turned 18, Cora is granted glad tidings by an angel: she will have the power to kill her son.

This series manages to walk a tightrope between four different concepts: demons are evil, God is not inherently good, God's angel is not nice and is sometimes necessary, and human religion can be twisted into cruelty very easily. Cora, Jordy and the angel Mr. Phim form the three-part conversation they have about God, goodness and heaven; Mr. Phim is cold, blunt and powerful an instrument of God who does not care for humanity; Jordy is cruel, violent and hates everything, including himself, and sees the cruelty that God has enacted. Only Cora continues to posit the positives of God and humanity, and as such she doubts that Mr. Phim could really be a servant of God, or that her son is wholly irredeemable, and as such her belief in humanity's goodness allows the apocalypse to progress far longer than it otherwise would have. And the gorgeous art along the way paints a bleak, beautiful picture of the end times.

I have some problems with the ending. I'll get into it briefly, but unfortunately I think the nature and philosophy of this book and its ending means you should know how it turns out to know if you'll enjoy it. If you've got a hankering for religious horror, this is certainly full of it, but if you want something that really sticks the landing on religious philosophy, I think it fumbles a bit.

Spoilers below.

I really thought this book was going places, and I was enjoying it along the way. The ending, though, feels... weird. Incomplete. It involves the nature of God and whether the master Mr. Phim serves is such a being, and Cora demanding a boon of heaven: she demands Mr. Phim's master leaves Earth alone, and believes God will assert himself over the master Phim serves. He gives the ol' "You don't know what you ask for" before leaving, revealing the events of the book as a dream of hope Cora has before it (and the name God) vanishes from her mind altogether, and she has to deal with the Jordy from the beginning of the book but without the hope of God in her.

I admit to being a religious man, so reading fantasy means every so often I will read a story about an evil God and frown. But I always try to have in mind the themes the story is trying to tell, rather than the story I'd like it to tell: Critical Role campaigns 3 and 4 have both been great when it comes to conversations about gods, and although I have my own opinions I appreciate the themes that develop about saving gods, and living in a world without them. Likewise, atheistic authors like Terry Pratchett, Garth Ennis and (that rotten bastard) Warren Ellis deal with the divine in various ways, from humor with hope in Small Gods to disdain in Preacher to temporary alliances in Castlevania; in each, I try to judge on their own merits, and what they're trying to say rather than what I want them to say.

So when I tell you I think the ending is thematically incoherent, I want you to understand where I'm coming from. Cora represents all of humanity, and also humanity's desire for a loving god, and so casts out Phim's master in favor of who she believes God will really be: but at the end, she is left alone with the monsters man created. Hence, I take a portion of the ending to be "God is evil and petty."

But also, it's because of God that our sins can be cleaned up. God is shown to save, Mr. Phim specifically mentioning that humans are damned only by their own despair, and calling out to God even from Hell can free them. To be left without God and solely with Jordy means we have nothing to kill him with, meaning the world will end. Thus: "Only God can truly save us."

The thematic overlap between these two messages leads to a jumbled mess in my head. "God is evil but can save us"? Is this a utilitarian message for religion? Is this like Grant Morrison's Nameless where God creates a system of love and cruelty because he's also trapped and angry? I can see the anti-God message laced throughout the book; so much of what we learn from God is through Mr. Phim, who obeys God without question and hates humanity. He claims humanity damns itself with its own actions, but then he may be unreliable as a source, and it was an angel who seduced Cora in the first place. But the salvation puts a snag into the whole process, implying a flawed, petty but ultimately benevolent being who wants to save us if we only ask.

That's a very interesting new idea to me, and I'll be chewing on it for some time afterward. But I'm not sure if the book intended it, and that unsurety makes it difficult for me to recommend.

[readingtoinfinity]

The Hunger and the Dusk

A world, dying, little land and resources left between the humans and orcs. For years they have been at one another's throats, but the arrival of the ancient, powerful and strange Vangol pushes them in directions they normally wouldn't consider. So for the first time in history, they are brokering peace through marriage: one Callum Battlechild, a commander of sellswords with some special lineage, and Tara Icemane, cousin to the current orc chieftain, are chosen. But can they work together? Will the alliance survive? And can love bloom on a battlefield?

IDW really dropped the ball on getting this book out to people, especially Book 2. It was cancelled in the middle of the storyline and set to be published as part of the collection/made into a graphic novel. Whatever you want to call it, it really fucked with the momentum the book was gathering, and it left me confused for what was happening when it was finally published. I had to go back for my thoughts.

First: this book doesn't feel nearly so dark as the premise would suggest. Yes, there's human connection and levity that we have at the best of times, but the grimness of the setting's description is belied by the fact that very few characters die here. I get a sense of the tribal societies humans and orcs live in, but the desperation they feel less so. The Vangol, as well, never quite felt like the threat they were built up to be, and that can make the action feel simplistic.

I did enjoy seeing a different kind of human/orc story than usual. For one, on the surface it might be a bog-standard romance between male human protagonist and exotic woman, but it's also a little deeper than that, and the tropes don't speak for the entirety of the personalities both leads have to express. Of the romance, I have to say it felt the most realistic of anything else that happened in the book, and I enjoyed seeing the two of them spend time together.

But beyond the main two, every character, human and orc, has their own opinions about the alliance being created. Nobody is wholly unsympathetic, nobody is entirely in the right, everyone wants something and sometimes those wants are petty. Troth Icemane, a powerful orc leader, has to spend some time wrangling the other orcs into agreeing to the alliance, and it's fun to watch.

I like a lot of G. Willow Wilson's work, but I think this is one of those stories by her I would consider merely good instead of great. It's a story where the tone feels mismatched with the premise, and while that kind of D&D-esque adventure may be fine for some, the dissonance was enough that I never felt quite invested.

[readingtoinfinity]

DNF: KamiKatsu: Working for God in a Godless World chapter 12

Yukito is the son of a minor cult leader, a position he finds deeply embarrassing and disdainful. During a ceremony, his last wish before he's sacrificed is to be moved to a world without gods or religion, and he awakens in a new world without any such things. But monsters constantly attack the village, the empire doesn't need religion to control the masses, and gods might not be as fictional as Yukito believed...

I read the manga for this one, but I put it on the list because the anime had a very bizarre sense of humor and utilized "so bad it's good" animation to tell its story. I was disappointed to learn the manga doesn't share this sense of humor, and while this story isn't your bog standard isekai power fantasy, it's not too far off.

Some folks may be enticed to read this for the central conceit, which is that the shounen power system is run on followers, so building cults is the way you get stronger. This can be off-putting to many people, but while I like the idea I found the execution lacking.

I also felt like the main characters were mostly just anime tropes. You've got the jaded protagonist, lecherous male friend, childhood friend with big breasts and someone who loves their sister too much. And from what I read regarding the childlike deity Yukito attaches himself to, in addition to a future character named Gaia, I'm just not interested in seeing where the manga goes.

[readingtoinfinity]

DNF: Go Tell It on the Mountain

In Harlem of the 1930s, a young boy named John Grimes is growing up, with a bastard preacher if a father, a damaged mother, and two younger siblings who have problems if their own.

The novel takes place over a single day, breaking at times for nonlinear context and flashbacks. Beyond John's experience as someone about to become Christian, we also get details for the three primary adults in his life and their relationship with Christianity, as well.

This book is excellently written and should come highly recommended. The semi-autobiographical nature of the novel allows James Baldwin to reflect on his childhood without being utterly subsumed by it, and the lessons about family, community and race are still just as relevant now as they were when the book was released.

I cannot finish it, though. I have some experience growing up in Protestentism, and though my mother wasn't as abusive as Gabriel is to John in this book, I can relate to a number of moments and experiences within this book. And because of that, reading the book is suffocating, and I have to force myself to read if it I was to get through it at all. The religiosity, hypocrisy, judgment and, at times, deeply moving connections of the religious space are all things I still remember clearly, and because of that the book hit too close to home.

It's a classic for a reason, and an important book, no doubt: if you haven't read it before, this is your sign to give it a try. But if you were raised religious, and especially if that religion left you with scars, you might find this book a bit too much. And if that's the case, there's no shame in putting it away.

[readingtoinfinity]

The Sheep Detectives

After the beloved shepherd for a flock of mystery-obsessed sheep is murdered, they band together to assist the dimwitted police officer to solve his murder and bring them to justice.

I do not often cry at movies. I say this neither to brag nor to entice pity, because I've gotten used to it. Some movies will tug at the heartstrings, some I can acknowledge are sad but not affecting me, and sometimes I'll get the rare gem that affects me. The Return of the King before this was the movie that made me cry the most, and even the line "Not all tears are evil" spoken softly by Gandalf puts me in a misty-eyed state. The last time I watched that movie to review it, I was shedding tears like nobody's business. But that's a rare treat for me, which makes this movie all the rarer for how much it made me gutturally sob.

There is an unexpected heart to this movie tied together with simple wisdom and the innocent main characters that makes you vulnerable for the lessons this movie has to impart. A movie that stretches out its PG rating to its limits, it's the best kind of family movie, ones that kids and adults will enjoy, but adults will fully understand.

I wish I could talk more coherently about the movie; the central mystery is great, with twists and turns that benefit any murder mystery, and a cast of characters that play with tropes in interesting ways, with even the sheep getting a strong focus and character arcs. The cast is roundly charming and the plot tightly focused. Were this just a simple murder mystery I think it could have earned a stellar reputation.

But it's not just a simple murder mystery. It's a film that, like sheep wool, is deceptively deeper than you expect. Beyond themes of justice and unraveling threads, there's also the angle of memory as memorial: remembering someone keeps them alive long after they're gone. And there's also the theme of belonging, and how even those of us on the outside still have a place within. The tragedy of Mopple, the dented courage of Sebastian, and the gentle intelligence of Lily, despite being sheep, all speak to a very human emotion about how easy it is to forget when we're in pain, but keeping that pain allows joy as well.

By the time this movie finished I was in tears, and a sound had been forced from my throat I haven't heard in years. This was a fantastic movie, the kind of movie that reminds you of a lot of bleak, terrible, hard-to-swallow emotions and says "It's going to be okay." I'm still crying as I write this review, and I'm probably going to cry more about it in the days to come.

Just go fucking watch it, it's currently on Amazon Prime. I'm not going to put this one at the end of the queue, this one comes out as soon as possible. It's one of the best damned movies I've ever seen, and well worth your time and the hype it's generated.

[readingtoinfinity]

The Artist (2011)

"In the 1920s, actor George Valentin (Jean Dujardin) is a bona fide matinée idol with many adoring fans. While working on his latest film, George finds himself falling in love with an ingénue named Peppy Miller (Bérénice Bejo) and, what's more, it seems Peppy feels the same way. But George is reluctant to cheat on his wife with the beautiful young actress. The growing popularity of sound in movies further separates the potential lovers, as George's career begins to fade while Peppy's star rises."

Whatever else this film is it's a goddamned technical triumph. The sheer dedication to replicating not only the lack of sound for the era, but also the historical context and costuming for Hollywood at the time is simply enthralling. Most of the scenes of the movie, comedy and drama, are done solely with music and visual storytelling, and what's truly impressive is that it works consistently.

But beyond the technical is the narrative, and there must be words said there. The film is rather melodramatic, one could argue matching the storytelling of the time, but it does mean some things you just kinda have to accept aren't going to get the depth you need. Peppy and George's relationship drives the plot, but they barely get a chance to speak to one another before the plot drags out. It's only when things get really heavy towards the end we get any sense of what they mean to one another, and it's not really anything to write home about; Peppy's arc and actions mostly revolve around George, and for someone who's quite dynamic and assertive that feels like a bummer. There's one part in particular that comes across rather creepy and stalker-ish that even the movie cops to, but is cast aside for the ending.

The central character, George, does get to be more rounded, though. He starts the movie at the height of his career, but is struck down when silent movies are cast aside for talkies. From there, we get to see him try to scrabble together a career for a man in movies who doesn't want to speak. While there's a twist involving why silent movies are so important to him, the fact they are important to him drives his actions throughout, and means as he falls into despair, the audience feels sympathy for him, though this sympathetic angle does whitewash a lot of his shittier actions before he falls from grace.

The plot is ultimately quite simple, bolstered by the era it takes place in and the technological change that forces people to choose whether or not to abandon the art they were invested in. It's also a great movie for yappers; my sibling and I were talking the entire time, and it was nice to discuss along the way. Sound is treated as an Eldritch presence within the movie, like the ability to hear voices in movies altered human perception for the worse, and for all the movie has a simple plot, that aspect alone makes me recommend this movie. At least to those who are into this kind of thing.

Also! There is a dog, and the dog doesn't die! Don't worry about that!

[readingtoinfinity]

The Blacktongue Thief

Kinch Na Shanack is a thief, and a good one, too. But thieving takes money to make money, and he's in debt to the Taker's Guild to do some... questionable things. But when a mark who turned the tables on him, a knight named Galva, is revealed to be someone he'll have to accompany on a dangerous mission, he'll learn more secrets than are good for a man drowning in debt, and maybe grow a backbone, too.

I did not enjoy this book; a strange thing, because I mostly enjoyed reading it. The prose and page-by-page action is gripping, and when you're in the moment, the plot can carry you forward. And there's indication this world, though grimy, could have a lot more hiding beneath the surface. It's a world bereft of men, and so women have come to fill many of the same roles. It just lacks follow-through.

None of the characters are well-defined. We get some character traits (Kinch is self-serving and clever, Norrigal is clever and sarcastic, Galva is serious and unnerving) but there's little of personality traits about them. The narration is in third-person subjective, but Kinch doesn't have a lot of wants and needs, and is forced into the plot with little personal stakes. He does acquire some later, but it's related to another character, and their wooden romance is about as convincing as Pinocchio is a real boy. (Side note: I was looking up stuff about another character, Norrigal, and discovered the website goodnovel.com; I wouldn't recommend it, it's full of generative AI, but it got Norrigal's role so wrong that I had to mention it as a terrible site)

The plot is bare-bones, not explained, and worst of all, the characters don't have a lot of impact on it. They're carted from one place to the next to perform an action before they're moved again. When I'm not connecting with any of the emotional moments from the characters, my fallback is the plot, and none of that here is particularly novel, interesting or well-executed.

There are some things to enjoy: the world has a life and history of its own to lean into. The Daughter's War (which is covered in the prequel) was a terrible bloody conflict against the goblins, and the current events are a war (more like one-sided slaughter) from the giants. Wizards are getting up to their usual bullshit, and creating monsters of all kinds that our heroes main characters have to defeat, or have dinner with said wizards to prove themselves useful. The giants are, as per usual, large humans, though their proportions are very weird. They're described at first as having two-inch thick battle garments at just below their chest, with nipple rings the size of door knockers, so I did some comparisons and estimated they were 6x larger than humans. But then later, they're described as over 12' tall, and their eyes are the size of "large apples", which gives them a really weird, squat kind of size with small heads.

And the goblins! Ah, the goblins are cool. They're described as asymmetrical, cannibalistic (or human-consumers) and haters of all things orderly. They think in nines where we think in fives because they have nine fingers in total, and the smallest finger in their offhand is a hooked claw; their offhand is shorter than their dominant hand, and they lack chins and noses. I loved their design quite a bit, but the goblins are also where we start to get into my greatest dislikes.

I saw a comment once, a long while ago, about the demons in Frieren, and how people are only annoyed at their portrayal because the demons look almost human. I think there may be some work of the halo effect at work when it comes to their designs, but I always thought it was a bad take, for anyone keenly interested in analyzing media isn't going to be entirely swayed by beauty, either. It always nagged at me, though, wondering if this was the case, but I'm pleased to report the goblins are ugly as shit and I still don't like the fact they're an all-evil species.

A part of this portrayal is the stain of war: the goblins were at war with people a couple decades ago, and neither side is particularly pleased with the result. But there's a treaty, and though it's not honored the entire time, it does seem to indicate that goblins are capable of speech, agreements and long-term planning, as well as understanding and compromise. But every goblin we meet is violent, cruel, taunting and just waiting for people to slip up so they could eat them. Humans who trade with goblins are treated as race traitors to the entire species, the country especially who worked with the goblins characterized by their love of lies and taking advantage of people.

Actually, that brings us to a larger point about the book: national determinism. There are some indications that the book engages with anti-Irish stereotype but I'm not as keenly aware nor knowledgeable on that subject. The part that annoyed me was the way people from various countries were portrayed as having certain indelible traits: the Galtish (the most obvious Irish stand-in) are anti-authority to their core, and a ripe harvesting ground for thieves and assassins. Spanths are coldly passionate and unnerving, and Malrovans are liars and sneaky dealmakers. Worse, everyone from each country worships the same national god; while I would expect some cultural artifacts from a country that worships a particular god, there's an inhuman uniformity to it that makes it stand out.

This feels like a D&D campaign that got converted to a novel. It's not the worst version of that, but it does mean it's a little lacking in worldbuilding, and the dynamics that naturally accumulate between players are lost when they're taken away. There is some stuff to enjoy here, and I did like one late-story twist that re-frames someone we knew was evil, but turns out to be worse than expected. But the flavor I get when I put the book down is the aftertaste of perfectly-toasted sourdough bread: not quite as samey as white bread, but without extra toppings it gets bland fast.

[readingtoinfinity]

DC K.O.

Darkseid is coming to destroy reality. After merging with the Spectre, he has gained enough power to affect the future, and taint it.

Darkseid is coming to destroy. The superheroes and villains stand in his way, and prepare to claim power enough to turn him back.

Darkseid is coming. Nothing can stop him he was - is - will be - inevitable.

Darkseid is.

Darkseid is.

Darkseid is.

The actual tone of the story is nothing like that, but the whole event is dedicated to just the sheer magnitude of what Darkseid has now become capable of, and the limits the heroes will have to extend themselves to to be able to stop him. So much of the side events are our heroes preparing as much as they can, whatever is in their power, to give themselves just the slightest edge over the god of tyranny when he arrives. But as for the main book...?

Yeah, it's okay. It's Superman, trying to deal with his no-kill rule, and how he's supposed to win a to-the-death tournament when he's not willing to land the killing blow. The story does ultimately play with this rule, and while it's nothing groundbreaking for the man of steel, it finishes in a way that reminds you that, while tournaments are fun, these stories aren't really about the fights. A strange thing, when the event was predicated on a tournament to the death being necessary.

It also doesn't end conclusively, and the finale was more about setting up future stories than it is about having a true ending, but it is costly, and it's shaken up things in a way that'll prove interesting enough for now. But almost certainly this means another event in the future.

(Side note: of all the stories here, I think I might be the only one interested in what's going on with Tom King Wonder Woman run; I keep reading and going "That was neat" and people in the comments go "Set Tom King on fire and compress the ashes into diamond". Alas, my poor taste!)

[readingtoinfinity]

Aquaman (2025)

Arthur Curry: Aquaman! In the aftermath of Absolute Power, he has new powers (his wife's) that he's struggling to deal with, and a deeper connection to the Blue, that which connects all aquatic creatures! But when he finds Atlantis seemingly gone, and Darkseid supposedly behind it, he'll go on a journey to recover his homeland, and learn some secrets along the way.

This one is...! Fine. Trying in so tightly in the events leading up to DC K.O. definitely made it more required reading for the event, and led to some strange and interesting things happening during the tournament proper, but the series itself is a little lackluster. I enjoy the pulpier tone for it, and it does respect the Aquaman powers and mythos, but there's no fight where I was really invested.

There were some twists and turns that shifted the story around by the end of this book, but it's not quite finished; the story continues as Emperor Aquaman for however long that goes on. If it can land the story that has to take place, it will have been worth it, but considering Jeremy Adams' work before this, I don't know if that'll be the case. I hope it'll land, though, and I'll be tuning in in case it does.

[readingtoinfinity]

The Flash (2023) #26-30 (Mark Waid)

During the events of DC K.O., the Flash and Impulse are at an impasse when Bart tries to go back in time to prevent it from ever happening. Darkseid's Legion, on the other hand, has other plans for speedsters, and the Speed Force as a whole.

I didn't even realize this book had changed writers, let alone that Mark Waid was writing it. It's so unfocused and overwhelmed by DC K.O. that there's no room for anything else. I enjoyed very little about what this book had to offer, and considering it's not really connected to DC K.O. directly, I think you could skip it.

I am hoping when Ryan North takes over at issue #31, it will get better. But I haven't been impressed by this Flash run so far.

[readingtoinfinity]

Legend (1985)

"Darkness (Tim Curry) seeks to create eternal night by destroying the last of the unicorns. Jack (Tom Cruise) and his friends do everything possible to save the world and Princess Lili (Mia Sara) from the hands of Darkness. Enter a world of unicorns, magic swamps, dwarfs and rainbows."

This is a movie of two parts. On the one hand: the visuals are absolutely wonderful. There's an aesthetic to this movie that makes it unforgettable, and it stands out even today for its sparkly, dreamlike quality. The unicorns are the best part of this: ethereal, effervescent, magical in a way the camera reinforces, real and unreal animals.

On the other hand: as soon as anyone opens their goddamned mouth it goes south. Almost nobody is acting good in this movie, and every time I think I'm getting invested, one of the ridiculous characters says something phenomenally stupid and I can't help but laugh. It's a self-serious film and that doesn't work for the vast majority of the runtime. My sibling and I both agreed that the visuals alone could have made for a surreal, intriguing experience, and I had the idea this would work better as a ballet, rather than this extremely cheesy movie.

Speaking of cheese: enter Tim Curry.

He manages to steal every scene he's in, and has a good time doing it. The only part of this movie where the dialogue and the visuals work together in harmony is during his seduction of Lily, and what was formerly the bland female love interest gets to be rebellious and sneaky. Tim Curry's magnificent performance as the evil yet charismatic Darkness within his great fortress of evil (a cool-ass fucking tree of shadows!) makes the struggle against him feel impossible, succeeding only with great cunning against great odds.

And then he's gone, and the movie goes back to being cheesy. Bland heroine Lily gets uncursed by white bread protagonist Jack and they live happily ever after yadda yadda yadda. It's not very interesting, and there's very little chemistry between the two so I check out.

Some other things of note: the movie we watched had terrible sound mixing, so it was alternatively difficult to hear and way too loud. Brix and Pox vanish from the movie, never to be seen again. And Meg Mucklebones... Just... Meg Mucklebones is a lot. And she's only in one scene, they put so much makeup on Robert Picardi for that and it really wasn't worth it.

This is a movie that's doing a lot, and it didn't really need to. A tale about the eternal struggle between darkness and light, and some theme about the balance in between (which was quickly discarded) could have been shrunk down to a story about a demon terrorizing a forest. The movie is best when it doesn't explain anything and gets horrible because it explains too much. The times when I locked in were outweighed by the times I checked out, and I'm more likely to talk about what this movie could have been than I am to ever watch it again.

If you like fantasy movies, especially pre-LoTR, this may be of interest to you, but unlike Willow I don't think there's anything worthwhile for the casual moviegoer. It's an interesting intersection of three notable careers (Ridley Scott, Tom Cruise and Tim Curry) but the movie is not nearly so interesting on its own, and I think it can be skipped. (Unless someone turns it into a concept album or a musical, then I'd be interested in the result.)

[readingtoinfinity]

DC / Marvel: Superman / Spider-Man

Together again for the first time in history: the man of steel and the webbed wallcrawler: Superman and Spider-Man! And other stories!

Superman and Spider-Man: "Truth, Justice and Great Responsibility"

A pretty fun event. The characters felt in-character and had some nice moments. I don't think it's anything we haven't seen before.

Lois Lane and Mary Jane: "The World's Finest"

I thought it was neat. I know the Insomniac games turned Mary Jane into Lois Lane, but it's nice to see a comic that actually compares the two and notes their similarities. I dunno, I got nothing more than that.

Superboy-Prime and (the Amazing) Spider-Man: "Pages"

I appreciated this story more than I liked it. It would make perfect sense that Superboy-Prime, a guy from something adjacent to our own real world, would be a fan of and read Spider-Man's comics, and take the wrong lessons from him, and talking to the real Spider-Man would set him right. But I think it's a jumbled, slightly rushed and badly paced mess to get there, and a lot of the action was almost entirely unnecessary.

Superboy and Spider-Man 2099: "Beyond the Cobwebs of Tomorrow"

The art's weird on this one. Sean Murphey has never been terribly good at drawing faces, and that counts doubly for younger faces. Beyond that, it feels more like the beginning of a story than a complete one, like there's an adventure that'll happen just off the last page. I didn't enjoy this facet of it, but I did enjoy most of it regardless of the weird art.

Superman's Panel Jimmy Olsen and Carnage: "Jimmy Con Carnage"

This comic is very darkly humorous, merging the Silver Age-esque adventures Jimmy Olsen is prone to with the black humor and gore found in stories about Carnage. It leans more towards dark than light, so just... be prepared. I didn't enjoy it, but it did make me laugh.

Jonathan Kent and Ben Parker: "The Bridge"

I like it. It's a nice, simpler premise about a possible time Ben and Jonathan could have met, and we get a glimpse of the kind of moral framework they're going to impart on their future sons. Not deep, but it gave me goosebumps and made my chest feel warm.

The Daily Planet and the Daily Bugle: "Bias"

I found this one absolutely delightful. Not just because of Lois Lane and J. Jonah Jameson locking horns over a debate that, primarily, doesn't sound out-of-character for either of them (being, as they are, stubborn as mules) but also sounds reasonable enough that you could see either perspective. It also manages to be rather funny by having Lois come SOOOO close to pulling a fast one on Jameson and have to be pulled back.

Power Girl and the Punisher: "Blind Date"

A surprising pairing, but one that works well. Gail Simone proves she's an excellent writer once again, and uses someone with a greater trauma to inspect what makes Frank Castle tick. It also makes Paul Rabin look like a douche so it'll always have a special place in my heart.

[readingtoinfinity]

Marvel / DC: Spider-Man / Superman

It's another crossover. Hooray. Who gives a shit let's get into it.

Spider-Man and Superman: "Our Kryptonite"

Spider-Man and Superman are in a jam, and in order to fight their way out, they have to get to know one another, strengths and weaknesses. It's good; it starts with a normal job and forces our leads to bond, and both of them realize how surprisingly alike they are. The differences are also touched on, but ultimately the heart of our heroes is, of course, the family they grew up with, ending the story on a nice, sweet note.

Spider-Man Noir and Superman:"Metropolis Marvels"

There's a very fun retro style to this thing, very pulpy; Superman, notably, can't fly, and goes around jumping. He also takes a pose at one point inspired by both Action Comics #1 and Amazing Fantasy #15, which I almost missed. It also makes Clark Kent a light troll in a way that's very fun when he gets one good deed over on Peter.

Gwen Stacy and Lana Lang: "Sweethearts"

This is mostly just eh, though it is fun to see Clark Kent and Peter Parker from the outside, without people knowing their secrets. This one could have benefited from being written by a woman, as well, but there is one moment that turns this from just a girls' bonding moment into a reminder they both had tragedy befall them, and their lives took different directions.

Mysterio vs Superman (featuring the Thing and others): "Identity War"

I like this one. Not just because it uses Lantern lore from DC Comics, but also the angle it uses to look at the Thing and the Hulk: Superman, who always believes in people. I think it's nice to have a message of "In a world of blind rage, be kind and listen". And for two angst-ridden heroes like Ben Grimm and Bruce Banner, that manages to be touching and earnest.

Hobgoblin vs Steel: "Ghosting"

It's fine. There's nothing here that really speaks to either of these guys as a character. I think it's neat that Thor shows up and he gets to be a hammer bro with Steel.

Ghost-Spider and Supergirl: "Remarkable"

Eh. It feels like a lost opportunity; there's not a lot of emotional depth here that these characters could have, and their conflict feels forced.

Miles Morales, Spider-Man and Superman: "The One Thing..."

I liked this story. It felt honest on Miles' part, and Superman responded to it with wonderful earnestness. I know Bendis gets a bad rap, and he should: I won't forgive him for his run on Action Comics. But this and Naomi reminds you that Bendis can be a good writer, when he's reigned in.

Symbiotes in Metropolis: "The Wondrous and the Worthy"

I like seeing the intermeshed history of DC and Marvel every so often, but this one got lost in the canon a little and almost didn't have time to have a theme. I think it is nice to have a discussion about worthiness and might, but I don't think this was well-executed.

Spider-Man and Superman: "One of Those Days"

Meh. It's a bit on-the-nose and doesn't really have anything new to say. The art's cool, though.

[readingtoinfinity]

Frankenstein (2025)

"If I cannot inspire love, I will cause fear!" ~The creature, Frankenstein; or, The Modern Prometheus

"If you are not to award me love, then I will indulge in rage!" ~The creature, Frankenstein (2025)

Victor Frankenstein is a man on a mission: defeat death itself. The deaths of his father and mother left him bereft, and he sought to undo the stain it brought upon them. But what has occurred to bring him to the arctic, dying and alone? And who - or what - is it that follows him from the shadows?

Everything regarding the quality of this movie has been said already. Better writers than I have written more about the cinematography, the acting, makeup, set design, weak CGI, great music and two central, captivating performances by Oscar Isaac and Jacob Elordi as Frankenstein and his monster, respectively. Everyone is working overtime to bring del Toro's vision to life.

And what is that vision, exactly?

Guillermo del Toro has always made movies for the freaks. I mean this with the highest compliments possible: his movies center on the outcast, the unusual and the bizarre. While there are some exceptions his oeuvre has been dedicated to challenging hegemony and normalization in favor of being intentionally and essentially yourself, about extending a hand into the shadows. And for the movies of his I've seen it works. So why doesn't it work for me here?

I cannot help but wonder at this; I am reminded of Roger Ebert talking about how The Mummy (1999) had nothing specific he could speak positively to but had a wonderful time regardless; I am having the opposite experience, in that I cannot say anything is bad specifically, but I didn't enjoy it. As Frankenstein is one of those novels that wormed its way into my head, I wonder if I have put it on a pedestal from which I cannot descend to enjoy this movie on its own terms.

The original novel Frankenstein is about Victor Frankenstein, in a fugue state lasting weeks, creating the creature and then abandoning it once he sees it alive in full for the first time. The movie is about Victor Frankenstein being paid a great deal to discover the secret to defy death, and trying to kill his creation for failing his expectation. This theme of bad fatherhood persists in the adaptation of Victor's father: in the novel, his father Alphonse is loving, respected and supportive of his children, representing a success in fatherhood where Victor represents a failure; in the movie, Victor's father Leopold is a cold, ruthlessly efficient man who abuses his children to the point of them hating him, the first link in the chain of trauma. The movie could be dismissively simplified to "What if Victor's dad was worse?" but the story doesn't really represent that; it is true, however, that the movie is about fathers being awful in a way that wasn't quite true in the original story.

There's also stuff not from the book here: the old blind man from the first Hammer Horror movies turns up, and although his fate is tragic the warmth he shows the creature carries up until the end of the movie. A woman named Elizabeth is here, but she now has the last name Harlander, is engaged to Victor's younger brother William, and her uncle is a man dead-set on forcing Victor to succeed at his task for personal reasons. And this version of Victor's worst traits have all been turned up to 11.

Victor from the book has many flaws; he is self-serving and cowardly, slow to action and stubborn, and greatly possessive of all those around him. But movie Victor is greedy, controlling, abusive and dismissive. Meanwhile, the creature from both movie and book is someone for whom the fire warms only from a great distance, and that loneliness turns to bitterness and rage as the plot continues. But where the movie's creature turns inwards to sullenness, the book's creature turns to causing pain to his creator by killing those around him. A difference of nihilism vs sadism; most of the movie's kills are done in self-defense or by accident; notably, he doesn't even kill Elizabeth, it's Victor that takes the shot, and William dies by accident.

I want to believe I see the vision, really, I do. So why does it fall flat for me? If in the book the creature learns that all the world hates him, why does that appeal to me? If the movie's creature learned the lesson that violence happens without hatred, why does this hit less for me? The change in morality of the characters changes the dynamic from one in which they continue to lash out at one another into a dynamic where Victor is solely responsible for the creature's pain. In the book, I loved the way the best of intentions still spiraled out of control into pain and anguish, but when I see this movie all I can think is that Victor could not have fostered any kind of good in the world, his actions doomed from the start by him.

I can see the movie acting as a kind of rebuttal against the idea that the creature was at fault, trying to showcase the way his creator hurt him. I can see, too, the argument the book has, which is: "When you create a monster, you must treat him well, or he will lash out." And I can see the movie's stance that "When you create a monster, it will be your own fault if he turns violent." But a part of me sees the movie as acting as a whitewash to the creature's actions, making him kill in pain and anger rather than with cold calculations, and Victor being more of a bastard makes it easier to drop all the blame squarely on him. It is a thematic shift I find deeply confusing, and in some cases disquieting; the creature in the movie is not a perfect victim, but the framing of his malicious actions often keeps the sympathy on him; the creature is a beautiful, soft-spoken and eloquent man, but he still lashes out and rages in a way that sets me ill-at-ease.

Even still, I did quite like the way the movie ended. I think it would have worked better for a more tumultuous version of the relationship between creature and creator, but the reconciliation and affirmation for the value of life was quite touching. It felt much like S3E3 of Star Trek: The Next Generation "The Survivors". A question of how you should, if you could, punish a man who has committed so great a crime that you have no word for it, and you do not have the means to keep him contained. It also felt like the movie was competing with or supplementing the themes from del Toro's Pinocchio, which also had a strange, immortal boy learning to exist. What do you do with a monstrous creature who cannot die? You leave him alone. If there is nothing left to draw his ire, maybe he will live long enough to feel something better. So may we all.

In this, I think, the movie redeems itself: I do not think I could dissuade anyone from the first two hours based on an opinion no one seems to share with me, but that last scene will stick out in my mind, and make the whole thing worth the watch. I'm not overly fond of the total product (and I don't want to watch it again), but it's going to stick in my mind for a long time, and I will probably revisit this opinion many more times.

[readingtoinfinity]

The Glass Scientists

A gaslamp fantasy comic about the life and times of a ragtag group of mad scientists and their enigmatic leader, Dr. Henry Jekyll.

Famed philanthropist and scientist Dr. Henry Jekyll runs a society: a society for mad rogue scientists! For you see, a stray undead or monstrous robot is now no bother for the mad mobs that have become extremely efficient at killing them. And with Frankenstein's ghost looming large over everything they do, it's up to Jekyll to make sure everyone maintains a veneer of niceness and propriety. A shame about Edward Hyde, who has some connection to the society and loves to flaunt authority.

This webcomic has some staying power, starting publication more than eleven years ago and only finishing recently after nearly six hundred pages and eighteen chapters. I admire the consistency, and the art, too; each week, we got a new page with a colorful bunch of characters drawn with a simplicity that belies just how bonkers and extravagant the art can get. The story...

I admit I was invested in the story from sheer commitment. I read the bulk of this webcomic twice; once, years ago, when I wasn't ready to have queer characters, and more recently, when I was. The worldbuilding and setting intrigued me, and I wanted to lean more into the rogue science and the people who make it.

The comic is not really about rogue science. That's the backdrop for the Victorian drama that plays out between Jekyll, Hyde and Jekyll's old school friend, Lanyon. The dislike of strange sciences forms a backdrop for the pressures Jekyll puts himself under, and, while there are times where we get into it, more often than not the focus is on the characters. And the characters are fine; if you heard the phrase "Victorian drama" and "queer characters" you've got some idea of what to expect, but there's other queer rep, though given it's the Victorian era they keep it on the down-low.

I just can't help but be disappointed with this direction, and honestly that's on me. It's a webcomic that freely changes what and how it adapts material: from Jekyll and Hyde itself to Frankenstein to even Victorian history. Though it is aware of Victorian history and freely borrows elements as needed (the Forty Elephants gang being a highlight) it will adapt it as needed to fit the story being told. So you have queer characters in an era where that wouldn't be fully understood (and, to be honest, it's mostly a small circle of like-minded progressives rather than the whole of society), a diversity of colors among every class, the usual removal of bigotry to focus squarely on a couple struggles in particular (these being class and vocation). The webcomic was never supposed to be more than a mostly lighthearted romp through a bizarre setting with some fun characters. I'm not really a fan of the direction League of Extraordinary Gentlemen took its story, but I'm also not particularly a fan of the direction The Glass Scientists took its story, either; I feel like I need to keep looking in the genre to find the happy medium I enjoy the most.

The consistency was a big factor in me sticking around, and now that it's run its course, the story might hang together properly if you read the whole thing as a novel. And it was nice, while it lasted, to have a pretty good update every week. I just wish I liked it more.