Fledgling by Octavia E. Butler

It's always a joy to discover an author new to me, if obviously one I most certainly had heard of, appearing with increasing frequency on all sorts of lists of "best of" literary science fiction. Eccentrically, my first experience of her writing is this, the final novel she wrote before her unacceptably early passing.

And the novel is extraordinary, at once brimming with intoxicating ideas (and I love a good novel of ideas) and supremely addictive. "One more chapter" syndrome is very much in effect here.

The plot, I suppose, is fairly simple, and perhaps even takes a back seat to the deeply enjoyable world building. We follow everything from the perspective of an amnesiac vampire, attacked and left for dead, as she tries to discover who she is, her place in the world, and who would want her and her family dead.

Yet this is a novel profoundly about bigotry, about race, about justice, about sexual ethics, about how to deal ethically with power imbalance. Yet the novel never feels preachy or didactic, and makes no claim to solutions. Its feminism is firmly sex-positive. And its characters feel utterly, utterly human, although many of them, of course, are not human at all.

This certainly won't be my last experience of an author I'm very happy to have discovered for myself.

A View from a Hill

 "I can't explain it..."

I confess I've never read any M.R. James, just as I've never read and H.P. Lovecraft or Robert E. Howard- I suppose, like many people, and without thinking about it, I tend to gravitate towards novels without considering short stories. I really ought to correct that.

I mention this to excuse the fact that I've now seen a good half dozen or so of his stories as adaptred on the BBC as Ghost Stories for Christmas. And I'm beginning to detect a pattern to many of them- a distant, unholynevil from the past ensnares a curious scholar with temptations of knowledge, slowly luring him to his doom. It's a simple formula, and one that can be easily repeated without going stale.

This story fits the template exactly. Young and awkward academic Dr Fanshawe visits a friendly local squire, stoically philosophical about his financially straitened existence, in order to catalogue some archaeological relics. But what whe finds are some unusual binoculars which tempt him slowly, inexorably, gentle BBC jump scare by gentle BBC jump scare, to the gallows.

It's superb, of course. Well directed, with the entire cast excelling. It's fun to see David Burke as the sinister butler trope, but it's Mark Letheren who truly excels as the shy, solitary Dr Fanshawe.

Overall, good stuff. And yes- I will indeed be watching several such stories between now and Christmas Day.

A Cock and Bull Story (2005)

 "Poke your little pecker out the window..."

I've actually read (and indeed blogged) The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy, which on balance added to my enjoyment of this very funny film. And yet one might just as well see this as a precursor to The Trip, and the partnership of Steve Coogan and Rob Brydon.

Of course, the whole thing is quite postmodern, alternating scenres of Tristram Shandy, that famiusly unfilmable novel, with a behind the scenes narrative where Brydon and, especially, Coogan, play versions of themselves, rather effectively.

The joke throughout, of course, is that Coogan himself hasn't read the novel, and everyone else has. Through all the buddy buddy stuff with Coogan, the jokes about his sexual difficulties following the birth of the baby and his habits of infidelity nonetheless, it's really all about the fourth wall.

Stephen Fry's academic cameo puts it best: the novel probably shouldn't be seen as postmodern, an anachronistic term. There's nothing modern about textual self-referentialism- see Rabelais and Cervantes- but it becomes rather less fasionable after Lawrence Sterne. By 2005, it's back, and can be commingled with actual postmodernism. Hence this film, and its almost obvious playfulness with the fourth wall, where Coogan's sexual wakwardness echoes Walter Shandy's. Yet Coogan's life is like the Shany of the novel; too complex, real and nuanced to accurately be summed up by any narrative or work of art.

This film isn't as deep as I've made it sound. But it's funny.

Star Wars Episode III: Revenge of the Sith (2005)

“So this is how liberty dies- with thunderous applause.”

The Star Wars prequels have, to put it mildly, a mixed reputation. And yet, having now rewatched them all, I have to concur with the emerging critical consensus that they are, in hindsight, admittedly flawed but perhaps also much better than their reputation.

It is, perhaps, unfortunate that the first film of the trilogy should be the most problematic. The Phantom Menace has a solid concept hiding behind a flawed structure and a less than charismatic cast. Yet these teething troubles are left far behind by this concluding instalment.

To a degree the whole concept is the film is, I suppose, pure fan service. It exists, by definition, to follow a gap in backstory between the prequels and the original trilogy. And this it does neatly, with loose ends cleared up in the final scenes, perhaps too neatly. It’s all very smoothly done, albeit with the odd necessary retcon: didn’t Leia reminisce to Luke about their mother in Return of the Jedi?

But the film is more than this. It’s an extended study of a person, Anakin Skywalker, who is played rather well by Hayden Christensen, a far better actor than his reputation. But Ian McDuarmid owns the film utterly as the seductive Palpatine, dripping poison in Anakin’s ear and ultimately corrupting him. And there are depths here. Palpatine is Augustus- not a military man but nevertheless destroying his Republic, institution by institution, until he is suddenly being referred to as emperor. There are rich themes here, echoing late Republican Rome but dealing with questions of security versus liberty- you can tell the War on Terror was a live issue- of constitutional liberalism versus convenient tyranny, and of the philosophy of the Jedi, shielding themselves from attachment because that way lies “jealousy” and therefore “greed”. But does this emotional equanimity not itself lead to callousness, itself a weakness?

This is a surprisingly deep film. Plus there are so many coolest pieces including Count Dooku fighting Anakin and Obi Wan with lightsabers (Christopher Lee is eighty-three here); General Grievous and his four lightsabers; Yoda versus the Emperor; and many more. But what will stay in my mind will be Padme’s horrified rejection of what Anakin has become. A brilliant, entertaining and surprisingly deep film.

A History of Violence (2005)

“In this family we do not solve our problems by hitting people.

David Cronenberg is known for a certain type of film. This is very different from that type. Yet it's a very different type of film- an action film that's based around nuanced character and acting, and rather intelligent and thoughtful among all the violence, anyone?

It's hard, indeed impossible to discuss this film without spoilers. But it's about more than the twist; it's about how we can all construct our identities, about interiority, about the hope of redemption, about the violence that lurks within us, about what may lie beneath respectable and upstanding lives, about the alien nature of other people and the impossibility of truly knowing them, even if you're married to them, in love and still have good (and fetishistic) sex. But then, of course, in a very deep sense Edie does know who Tom is now. The past is a foreign country.

There's enough graphic violence here to qualify this as an action film, yet it's clever enough to simultaneously appeal to the arty film crowd. Viggo Mortensen gives a towering and dualistic performance that is truly extraordinary, although credit is also very much due to Maria Bello and to William Hurt, who shows his extraordinary versatility in a part very different from usual.

This is an extraordinary film, and one of the finest I've seen for a good many months.

Constantine (2005)

"God's a kid with an ant farm, lady. He’s not planning anything.”

I know very little about John Constantine  eyond Alan Moore’s Swamp Thing. I’ve never read a single issue of Hellraiser. I’m therefore not much attached to the original material, prepared to judge this film on its own merits, and willing to overlook the fact that Constantine should be a blond Englishman.

Except... they cast Keanu Reeves. Keanu Reeves. On what planet is that appropriate casting? Reeves is, by all accounts, a nice bloke but it is a fact universally acknowledged that he can’t act. I’m afraid he just can’t carry a film, no matter how much spectacle or CGI we get.

And there’s another issue- sometimes a music video director turns out to be brilliant when let loose on a cinematic canvas. Here we have a music video director who has given us a two hour music video. It gets annoying after a bit.

Still, the script is quite good, and presumably very much the D.C. version of Christian mythology. It’s an arresting idea- suicide is cruelly punished in Hell, and Constantine is desperately trying to atone for a youthful suicide attempt- although certainly not one that makes God seem a nice bloke. I’m not sure which of the concepts are from the film and which not, but I like the idea of Hell having an extended version of the Bible. I love Midnite and the neutral bar, too. It’s all very Manichean.

It’s a pity, really; with a better star the film would have been pretty decent, and perhaps even spawned a sequel. But Keanu Reeves...?

Elektra (2005)

"They say Elektra whispers in your ear before she kills you."

Meh. Thing is, this isn't an awful script, not really. There are some nice directorial touches in places, although there are also moments of, well, meh. But the main reason why this is Marvel's notorious flop, a spin-off of the already underwhelming Daredevil, is that Jennifer Garner is just phoning it in and offers up no charisma whatsoever. She simply sucks the energy out of the film whenever she's on screen.

Not that there aren't some positive points- it's good to see Terence Stamp, General Zod himself, appearing in a Marvel film, even if he is woefully miscast as Stick. The main baddies are good acting-wise, although I'm not familiar with the Hand from the comics. And the opening sequence establishing Elektra as the assassin she isn't going to be for the rest of the film is well done.

But... Jennifer Garner. And the film, frankly, flags once you're an hour in, not a good thing for a film that isn't really all that long. There are lots of action sequences, many of them good. Tattoo is a cool character. It’s good to see Typhoid Mary on screen. But... Jennifer Garner.

This film really isn’t worth seeing except for us Marvel completists. Meaning, sadly, that Marvel has yet to release a decent film with a female star, in the Cinematic Universe or elsewhere. I hope they do so by the time my daughter is old enough.

Batman Begins (2005)

"What chance does Gotham have when the good people do nothing?"

Yes, it's odd to see Ra's al-Ghul used in this way, conflated with Henri Ducard from the Blind Justice arc back in '89 and bearing absolutely no relation to the character we know and love to the point that he doesn't even seem to be an Arab; Ken Watanabe's decoy character seems to hail from much farther east. Still, there are hints as to the Lazarus Pit, perhaps. And, more to the point, this is a brilliant film tacking Batman's origins and a triumph for both the fan and the general audience.

Essentially this is because of both David Goyer's perfectly judged script and the always impressive direction of Christopher Nolan; Christian Bale is a perfectly good Batman, although no more than that, and the film is very well cast indeed, with Michael Caine being a particular master stroke. Still, were I an American I'd probably raise an eyebrow at the suspiciously high number of Brits in this film based on an iconic American character and directed by a Brit; I'm surprised this isn't more often commented on. It would be a reasonable objection in my British eyes. Still, Gary Oldman is the perfect Jim Gordon.

I can't fault the film though. Cillian Murphy's Scarecrow is chilling and brilliant, with that mask and some splendidly trippy direction making a hugely effective villain. And the time and thought given to Batman's origins is clear; it is both faithful and innovative, with a focus on Bruce's relationship with his philanthropist father and his childhood sweetheart Rachel Dawes, a new character. This, as well as the more jovially sarcastic edge to Alfred, works very well indeed. The theme of fear is developed throughout, with the figures of Ra's, the Scarecrow and Batman reflecting different uses of it, for good or ill. And I like the way Batman's moral scruples against killing are contrasted against the gang 'em flog 'em stupidity of Ra's and his gang, the Daily Express of terrorist organisations.

Yes, there's also a fair bit from Batman: Year One, but that's no bad thing; it's nice to see Colin McFarlane as Commissioner Loeb. And, on the subject of actors, we even get an appearance by the great Shane Rimmer! This is a long film, yes, but a dense one, with a lot going on from the evolving relationship between Bruce and Rachel to Bruce's takeover of Wayne Enterprises. It's one of the finest superhero film ever and almost (but not quite) makes me rethink my opinion that superhero films should eschew origin stories.

Fantastic Four (2005)

"A few days in space. It'll be great. What's the worst that could happen?"

I can't remember where, but I recently read an interview with Stan Lee (he's 93, you know) in which he expressed the view that this film was excellent, really captured the four main characters and the dynamic between them, but that the use of Doctor Doom as a character was misconceived. This blog post is essentially me agreeing with him. Who am I to contradict the great Stan Lee? And, moreover, he's right.

(Incidentally, I love Stan's cameo in this film playing Willie Lumpkin, for once not only an actual character from the comics, but one he created).

The four main characters are perfectly written and played. Special praise has to go to Michael Chiklis as Ben, a perfect piece of casting, but Chris Evans as Johnny is also superb, and a very different performance from the same actor's portrayal of Captain America.

However, while Julian McMahon plays the role he's given very well indeed and even wears the costume at the end, this is not Doctor Doom but an entirely different character, which is a shame. That isn't enough to stop the film being very good, but it's a definite black mark.  

Still, I like the way the origin is not dwelt upon, and the script portrays all of the characters exactly as they should be. The relationship between Ben and Johnny, in particular, is perfect. This isn't the best Marvel film adaptation ever, but it's certainly a decent attempt.

Nanny McPhee (2005)

"I did knock..."

I wasn't originally going to blog this, hence the fact that I'm wings big it without any notes. It isn't the sort of thing I'd usually blog; just one of many bit of Christmas telly that we're catching up on the Sky Plus, in this case recorded because Mrs Llamastrangler is rather fond of it.

But in hindsight it deserves a blogging, not least because I have nothing else to blog at the moment; it's been a busy few days. Besides, it's rather good, and Emma Thompson would be my ideal choice for the next Doctor Who donuts worth a look at her.

She is, of course, brilliant, both as star and as writer of this adapted screenplay. This may fit into an existing tradition of children's fantasy in a Victorian milieu (cough Mary Poppins cough), but that is no bad thing. Oh,of course you can criticise it for uncomplainingly showing us a socially stratified world, but that's implicit in the setting. To complain would be churlish. And yes, Colin Firth is the same in everything and only ever plays Mr. Darcy, but he fits in nicely here.

The fantasy conceit is brilliant. Emma Thompson is brilliant. Thomas Sangster is brilliant. Angela Lansbury is... interestingly miscast. We even get brief scenes of Derek Jacobi camping it up. As recent kids' films go, this is one of the best.

The War of the Worlds (2005)

"Trees are funny!"

I have a rule. Never do I blog a sequel before it's predecessor and never do I blog a remake- if I blog remakes at all; I have a big prejudice against them- before the original. Never mind the obvious stylistic nods to the 1953 George Pal film; this is at heart another version of the original novel. Indeed, we open and with Morgan Freeman speaking H.G. Wells' words, and the ending, from a time when Natural Selection was a relatively new thing, is retained in this updated film, set in modern America.

Steven Spielberg and War of the Worlds was always going to be a neat fit, and the film certainly looks great. Sadly, it stars Tom Cruise, but it's nice to see a suitably weird performance from a young Dakota  Fanning, one of my wife's favourite performers. 

The opening section, introducing Sal, his kids Robbie (studying French colonialism in Algeria, appropriately as the original novel was based on the idea of the British Empire feeling what it was like to be colonised) and young Rachel, goes on too long with the stuff about custody of the kids, something which could have been established much more economically; we want Martians!

The spectacle never ceases to amazed but, sadly, there's a reason why Tom Cruise was a has-been by 2005. Everything looks fantastic and there are some nice touches- the Martians ride the lightning to their machines- and the family themes sentiment is even, by Spielberg standards, not overdone. This is a good film, but could have been great with a different star.

Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire (2005)

"Ron, you spoiled everything!"

The cast of the Harry Potter films continues to dazzle. This time we have, among others, David Tennant, Robert Pattinson and the sadly departed Roger Lloyd Pack. Again, the cast is noticeably older, as are the characters: we have a typical media teenage romance with Hermione and Ron in the sense that they pretend to hate each other. We have a nod to the fact that British schools, these days, have adopted that alien American institution that is the Prom. And once again we have a film that, while it is no more serious than the last one, is a little more serious and less fun than I would have liked. It certainly looks darker, though, from the opening titles onwards. 

We have the bizarre prospect of a Quidditch World Cup combined with political skulduggery from the Ministry of Magic while Voldemort's Death Eaters stalk the school. Like the Sochi Winter Olympics this is a highly politicised sporting event and, Harry being the hero and all, we just know that he's going to end up winning this Triwizard Tournament thing.

The obligatory new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher is one eyed, highly eccentric, abrasive, played by the excellent Brendan Gleeson and, as is also traditional, an obvious red herring. Some traditions never change. The three contestants meanwhile are Victor Krum of Bulgaria, Fleur Delacours of France and Cedric Diggory of the Twilight Saga. Inevitably, Harry too is drawn in. The film starts with "Harry Potter and..." after all.

Unfortunately everyone, Ron included, thinks he cheated, and he's persona non grata at school, something which I'm sure every teenager must have felt at some time or other. Being a teenager is horrible, and being fourteen is generally the nadir of life.

Harry is friendless and pursued by the tabloids, in a storyline which rather nicely parallels J.K. Rowling's experiences with the happily departed News of the World; life imitating art, or the reverse, I wonder?

This film essentially constitutes a quest narrative through the medium of sport, with a bit of teenage angst centred around this Prom thing which the kids seem to care about as though they were in an American high school for some reason.

Ron and Hermione have fallen out big time, as teenagers who fancy each other tend to do in films and telly. But he three friends eventually unite to help Harry; like Buffy, the ultimate moral of the film is that even heroes would be helpless without friends.

There's a final showdown with Voldemort, and a big revelation about the night that Voldemort killed Harry's parents; it was the magic of his mother's sacrifice that saved Harry, magic that has now expired. Cedric is left dead and the mood of the film is left very, very dark.

Harry's final chat with Dumbledore is lacking something; Michael Gambon may be a much-admired actor but he's no Richard Harris.

This is my least favourite of the series so far, and the darkest by far. These two facts are definitely linked. 

Ice Princess (2005)

"No, Mom. I'm giving up your dream. I'm going after mine."

Bit of a risk, this one: not the sort of film I'd normally watch by any means, but it's an old fave of my fiancee's, and I'm curious about my reaction to a film in a genre with which I'm unfamiliar. Also, it has Michelle Trachtenberg in it, and Joan Cusack, and that Hayden Panettiere off of Heroes.

So, what do I think? Well, it may start with the most horrible opening music imaginable, but it's a well made if formulaic film about a girl whose own dreams conflict with those her pushy mother has for her. Mother and daughter fall out and then reconcile at the end. It's much better than it sounds, with some interesting musings on feminism, with Casey's mother wanting her to not be trapped by gender roles in her career choices while her daughter's dreams of being an ice skater fit more into the traditional female gender role; this conflict between a feminist ideal and the imperfections of reality is a very fertile theme.

The standout performance is from Joan Cusack as the mother. Kim Cattrall is excellent, as too is the young Hayden Panettiere. Trachtenberg is a bloody good actress, as we knew, but unfortunately I'm not sure she has the presence or charisma for a leading role.

Still, I was impressed. There's no denying this film breaks no moulds with its formulaic plot, but the execution is very well done.

Charlie and the Chocolate Factory (2005)

"I'm sorry, I was having a flashback."

So, Tim Burton did a movie version of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. Bound to happen, wasn't it? The book is perfect for his whimsicality (is that a word?) and visual style. There  is room, I suppose, for the complaint that Burton has become too comfortable with a certain kind of film and a certain type of approach- vaguely gothic, whimsical films in the fairytale style which tend to star Johnny Depp or the missus, Helena Bonham Carter, and that it would be nice to see him do something else for a change. But the formula works, again and again.

Here, for example, we focus on a poor family who live in a version of modern England in a kind of poverty which implies no Welfare State, and all of whom, Oliver Twist-like, speak in not entirely realistic RP accents. The town in which they live is a highly stylised version of an Industrial Revolution northern city, a sort of cross between Coketown from Hard Times and the paintings of L.S. Lowry. It's some distance from the American setting of Roald Dahl's novel (a childhood favourite, naturally), but it works wonderfully well.

The children accompanying Charlie on his tour of Willy Wonka's factory are deliciously horrible grotesques, as we might expect. It's an inspired idea to have the great Deep[ Roy portray all of the Ooompa Loompas, and their delightfully and darkly funny songs at each child's comeuppance are a highlight of the film, although the sequence with Mike Teevee, inveighing against the bad influence of television, has dated somewhat; the twenty-first century has very different, though equally silly, targets for its periodic moral panics.

Johnny Depp is superb, and suitably weird, as Willy Wonka. I didn't like the treatment of the character towards the end of the film, however. When he and Charlie take the Glass Elevator up and out of the factory we get not an exciting adventure with the Vernicious Knids but a load of sentimental family-themed twaddle that I could have done without. Still, at least this silly subplot gives us a glimpse of the great Christopher Lee. There are also lots of nicely metatextual gags throughout, and that sort of stuff is right up my street.

If you'll forgive the ending, this film is a delight. Yes, it's exactly what you'd expect Tim Burton to do with the source material, but isn't that what we all want?

Hostel (2005)

“I am the king of swing!”

Lots of people consider this people the poster child for “torture porn” and, yes, this is another film from the collection of my gore-loving, gorgeous girlfriend. I love her to bits but she doesn’t half like a bit of brutal violence every now and again. For me, such things tend to be a bit meh: I’m not titillated by graphic gore, but nor am I particularly squeamish. For me, it’s a thriller, and I’m judging it as such. Well, mostly. This review is going to be a bit whiny but believe me: I enjoyed Hostel as a thriller. It’s good. If you like a good thriller and don’t mind a bit of gore, you’ll like it.

Before that, though, a gripe. This isn’t directed by Quentin Tarantino, however much Pulp Fiction is shown on screens within the film: he merely “presents”. If there’s an auteur here, it’s clearly Eli Roth, who writes and directs. Why, then, is Tarantino’s name all over the bloody thing?

Another gripe, too: I don’t like this film’s depiction of Europeans. I suspect it isn’t deliberate, but some disturbing American prejudices about Europe show themselves here, at least to my European eyes. First we see Amsterdam, the uber example of Godless, secular Western Europe (although, as one line points out, the hedonists we see in Amsterdam tend not to be Dutch), and then we see Slovakia, a country whose tourist industry is probably not overly enamoured with this film. I suspect it’s more subconscious but intentional, but the subtext seems to be that European Godlessness, sexual openness and social democracy is immoral, bad and likely to lead to people being cynically tortured to death for profit. I should probably emphasise again, mind: I don’t think this is so much overtly intended as a latent prejudice finding its way into the narrative. Still, it’s the one big problem I have with this film. And yes, there are bits of dialogue which clearly satirise the American protagonists’ lack of understanding of the places they are travelling to, even though one of them is an Icelander, but I think the point is still valid. And, interestingly, all this reminds me of the conversation about McDonalds in Amsterdam that we hear in, of all films, Pulp Fiction.

One last gripe: the opening titles are so long that the film takes a million years to bloody start. All that aside, though, I actually loved this film. If you can stand the gore (there’s one particularly icky scene involving an eye), and one rather implausible coincidence towards the end of the film, you’ll enjoy Hostel.

Hide and Seek (2005)

“I don’t wanna play with Charlie any more!”

There are two points to make before I begin. One, this film is based around one massive great big revelation so, y’ know, THERE BE SPOILERS. Two, this is the ninety-third film I’ve reviewed for this blog but only the first to feature Robert de Niro. How on Earth did that happen?

De Niro gives an extraordinary performance in a role which absolutely requires one. Like a certain part in The Usual Suspects which I shan’t spoil for those of you who haven’t seen it, it requires two performances in one. De Niro has to convince as David, the well-meaning bereaved father who’s trying to do the right thing, and as Charlie. The film structures itself around the revelation well; I, for one, didn’t guess, and was shocked. I have my doubts about basing a film so thoroughly around one big twist, if you guess the twist, the film is ruined for you. That wasn’t the case for me, though, and like all good twists I felt that the clues had been there.

The film moulds itself well around the twist, even to the point of having a character, Mr Haskins, who exists only to fulfil the role of red herring, almost to the point of parody. Aside from De Niro, though, the standout performance is from a very young Dakota Fanning, who fulfils the trope of the creepy kid with aplomb.  

The climax, in which De Niro, as Charlie, chases his daughter through the house with an axe, may be clichéd, but it was the only place to go after the revelation. And the final scene, in which one of Emily’s drawings seems to suggest that she too may have multiple personality disorder (Hollywood thriller version) is delicious.

It’s weird seeing this so soon after Drop Dead Fred; for a while, it appears as though we’re getting a very different spin on the concept of imaginary friends! It isn’t quite up there with the best, relying as it does on that one big twist, but it’s a good film nonetheless, and De Niro is superb.

Hard Candy (2005)

“Does your mother know you cut off men’s balls?”

That Ellen Page is a bloody good actress, ain’t she? She was superb in Juno and she’s just as superlative here. I suppose that in both cases she’s playing smart, eccentric characters, but look beyond the superficial and they’re two very different parts. She also seems to be good at choosing scripts. Both of the films I’ve seen so far in which she’s starred have been bloody good. So, obviously, I bloody love this film, in spite of the disturbing subject matter. And, it must be said, the castration scene is somewhat intense, especially for those of us burdened with a Y chromosome.

This is a low-budget film, utilising limited sets and very little location filming; this script could be performed in a theatre with minimal alteration. It’s a two-hander; aside from Ellen Page as Hayley, a very clever fourteen year old girl, and Patrick Wilson as Jeff. It’s a few minutes into the film, after we see their online flirting and the first few minutes of their date, that we learn her age, and realise that Jeff is a paedophile. Not for the last time, the film subverts our expectations uncomfortably.

Hayley is highly intelligent, extremely well-read and exhibits a quirkiness that both fits with and draws attention from the big revelation: yes, Jeff has lured her to his home for sick and disgusting purposes, but she’s no helpless damsel in distress. She, not he, is the predator, and the bulk of the film consists of her discussing his sick proclivities, with extraordinary psychological insight, as she slowly tortures and kills him. The dialogue is what makes this a great film. There’s an extremely good scene in which Jeff tries to insist that, yes, he may be a paedo, but he’s also done work for environmental causes, much as Jimmy Savile did an awful lot for charity. Hayley may probably be insane, but I like her. I’m sure she was lying about liking Coldplay, too, so I won’t hold that against her.

This film has an awful lot to say about the subversion of gender roles in popular culture, about the male gaze, and about power. What’s particularly nice is that Jeff has to reveal all sorts of deep, dark secrets to Hayley, but he (and the viewer) ends up knowing nothing about her- not her motives, the whereabouts of her parents, or even her name. Hard Candy starts out seeming like another version of the old trope of men objectifying women- or, in this case, girls- but ends up subverting that; all along it’s Hayley, not Jeff, who has the agency.

I suppose the film could be criticised for promoting vigilantism and capital punishment, both of which I passionately oppose, but I think that would be overly harsh. This is a thriller, and genres have conventions. I recommend this film highly. It’s just the thing for Christmas Eve.