Can. Not. WAIT.

Tomorrow, tomorrow, TOMORROW CANNOT COME SOON ENOUGH!!! :)

Les Miserables - new international trailer

Review: Live and Let Die by Ian Fleming

Live and Let Die (James Bond #2)
By: Ian Fleming
Publisher: Penguin
ISBN: 978-0-14-200323-7

About the book:

"Her hair was blue-black and fell heavily to her shoulders. She had high cheekbones and a wide, sensual mouth, and wore a dress of white silk. Her eyes were blue, alight and disdainful, but, as they gazed into his with a touch of humor, Bond realized they contained a message for him personally. Solitaire watched his eyes on her and nonchalantly drew her forearms together so that the valley between her breasts deepened. The message was unmistakable..."

Beautiful, fortune-telling Solitaire is the prisoner (and tool) of Mr. Big -- master of fear, artist in crime, and Voodoo Baron of Death. James Bond has no time for superstition -- he knows that Big is also a top SMERSH operative and a real threat. More than that, after tracking him through the jazz joints of Harlem to the Everglades and on the the Caribbean, 007 has realized that Mr. Big is one of the most dangerous men that he has ever faced. And no one, not even the enigmatic Solitaire, can be sure how their battle of wills is going to end...

Review:

Live and Let Die, Fleming's second novel featuring James Bond, wastes no time establishing setting or character. Diving immediately into the action, Fleming sets the template for Bond's adventures to come, particularly on the big screen -- globe-trotting, exotic locales, beautiful women, and intense, oft-times over-the-top, action sequences. Here Bond is sent to New York for a joint operation with American CIA operative Felix Leiter, an ally from Bond's Casino Royale days. They are tasked with uncovering the source of the smuggled gold a Mr. Big is funneling through his vast criminal network, funding operations for the likes of SMERSH. But Mr. Big's reach, and the lengths he'll go to in order to maintain control on his criminal operations, are more powerful and extensive than Bond ever imagined. When Big's henchmen strike a lethal blow, Bond's single-minded resolve to exact vengeance places him in unimaginable danger, and his drive for revenge threatens to blind him to the coolly lethal mastermind's greatest weapon -- the most dangerous denizens of the sea itself.

First published in 1954, Fleming's second Bond novel unfortunately does not stand the test of time nearly as well as its predecessor. Because here Bond's nemesis is Mr. Big and his vast criminal network, the African-American community is featured prominently throughout the novel -- and as such Fleming heavily showcases racial attitudes and language that, while it may have been more acceptable during the 1950s, is at the very least jarring to modern readers. Mr. Big fares best here -- as an arch-villain, extremely capable and over-the-top in the best Bond tradition, but his compatriots have aged less favorably, tending towards a hodge-podge of cheap stereotypes. If Fleming had managed to curb his propensity for over-the-top dialect and negative African-American stereotyping, this novel's suspense plotline, no matter how wildly outlandish, would be given freer range to shine unencumbered.

If one can manage to keep the novel within the context of the time in which it was published, roughly a third of the way through the book Fleming (mostly) trades in his unfortunate stereotyping for some really well-done action sequences and nail-biting tension in keeping with the spirit of Bond's debut. I was particularly impressed with Bond's tense introduction to Mr. Big and subsequent escape, and the novel's climatic moment which finds Bond and Solitaire dragged through coral-rich waters as live shark bait. As in Casino Royale, I was once again struck by Fleming's economy of language, his sharp-edged prose that colors his narrative with tension and keeps the reader engaged.

 As an American I also found Fleming's rather...acerbic view of the country interesting, to say the least, but this was tempered by the presence of Felix Leiter, my favorite recurring supporting character in the series thus far. I was quite honestly horrified by Felix's fate midway through the novel, but this was somewhat tempered by the resulting exhibition of Bond's loyalty and drive to see one of his few friends avenged. Bond is by no means a consistently well-rounded or progressive character -- first and foremost he is the "blunt instrument" of MI6 -- but thus far in the series I've been favorably impressed by the subtle shades of fallibility that colors his character on the page. There's a brilliant, self-reflective passage about halfway through the book where Bond ruminates on the fragility of life -- and it's brief flashes of humanity, of vulnerability, that bring to mind Craig, my favorite screen Bond.

While the racial overtones of Mr. Big and his henchmen date this installment in the Bond series rather poorly, if one can read this strictly as a product of its creator and the time (for good or ill) in which he lived, Fleming delivers some rollicking action sequences and unexpected moments of self-reflection that make fascinating additions to one's knowledge of the Bond canon.

<<< This is the cover of the paperback edition I read. Isn't it TACKY??? :P

where I am seeing double...

I'm pretty sure Colin O'Donoghue (Hook on Once Upon a Time) and Jonas Armstrong (Robin Hood) are related...

Review: The FitzOsbornes at War by Michelle Cooper

The FitzOsbornes at War (The Montmaray Journals #3)
By: Michelle Cooper
Publisher: Knopf Books for Young Readers
ISBN: B007UH4EGW

About the book:

Michelle Cooper completes her heart-stealing epic drama of history and romance with The FitzOsbornes at War. 

Sophie FitzOsborne and the royal family of Montmaray escaped their remote island home when the Nazis attacked. But as war breaks out in England and around the world, nowhere is safe. Sophie fills her journal with tales of a life during wartime. Blackouts and the Blitz. Dancing in nightclubs with soliders on leave. And endlessly waiting for news of her brother Toby, whose plane was shot down over enemy territory.

But even as bombs rain down on London, hope springs up, and love blooms for this most endearing princess. And when the Allies begin to drive their way across Europe, the FitzOsbornes take heart—maybe, just maybe, there will be a way to liberate Montmaray as well.

Review:

I am reluctant to write this review, as it means that my time with Sophia and the rest of the FitzOsborne clan has come to an end. The FitzOsbornes at War is the concluding volume in Michelle Cooper's epic Montmaray Journals saga, a gloriously evocative, rich tapestry of prose that evokes the long-lost wonder of a world about to be changed forever by an epic, globe-encompassing war. This third volume picks up shortly after the conclusion of the second, which saw Sophia, her brother Toby, and cousin Veronica risk their lives to plead before the League of Nations for the return of their island kingdom from Nazi invaders. When England at last declares war on Germany, Sophia and her family throw all of their energies into supporting their adopted home's war efforts. This final volume is the lengthiest of the series, covering the years 1939-1945 (plus a short epilogue), as such delivering a veritable treasure trove of historical fact, a richly atmospheric, absorbing snapshot of life on the home front. As aristocrats and exiles of a nation allied with Britain, Sophia and her family are uniquely placed to experience the full range of wartime life, from rationing and air raids to the political machinations of the Foreign Office's attempts to gather valuable intelligence on the situation in Europe. Sophia's final journal not only documents her coming-of-age through the fires of war but serves as a fascinating witness to the turbulent times in which she lived -- a savvy, insightful, and utterly absorbing record of a world and a social class lost to the ravages of time.

A sense of unreality pervades much of the first portion of the novel, detailing the first months of the war. Through Sophia's eyes Cooper explores the disconnect between high-level political machinations and early rationing among the citizenry in the early months of the war, a brief "lull" before fighting commenced in earnest. I loved watching Sophia and Victoria spread their proverbial wings (much to the consternation of their Aunt Charlotte) and seek employment, as working-age men were funneled out of the private sector and into the armed services. The war blew open women's working opportunities (i.e., in the previously "male-only" Foreign Office), and every member of the FitzOsborne clan is determined to "do their bit" to support England, with the hope of freeing Montmaray a closely-cherished, if oft-seemingly futile dream. When Germany begins bombing London, the horrors of war are driven home to those left behind -- the uncertainty and soul-crushing stress of the attacks, and the unimaginable strength an average citizen required to simply endure the onslaught of fire and death pouring from the skies.

This series' greatest strength lies in Sophia as narrator -- remarkably intelligent and savvy, she is nonetheless an "everywoman" character, concerned with the minutiae of everyday life even as she strives to navigate a world consumed by war. Thanks to her aristocratic antecedents and connections to the Foreign Office via Veronica and the omnipresent Colonel, Sophia has a brief career as a pseudo-spy -- a nice touch since it allows Cooper to include familiar figures in the narrative like the Kennedys, Sophia's friendship with Kick gaining her access to embassy functions. But my favorite parts of the narrative are when Sophia is simply living, as everyday life in London under the Blitzkrieg is in essence an existence under siege. Through Sophia and her family, Cooper pays tribute to the men and women of London who refused to be cowed, who persevered, even as Sophia acknowledges what life must be like for average citizens feeling the reciprocal wrath of allied attacks. This is a chronicle of war that acknowledges the toll such conflict exacts upon each and every man, woman, and child whose lives are touched by the violence, even as it is a powerful exploration of the "home front" as its own field of battle.

There is a certain timeless quality to Cooper's writing -- like all youths on the cusp of adulthood, Sophia struggles to find her place in the world, her purpose, cope with disappointment and heartache, and hopes for love. Every character that inhabits Sophia's world is achingly real and complex. Over the course of three volumes one becomes extraordinarily invested in every detail Sophia shares on the page -- and therein lies a certain heart-breaking genius to Cooper's writing. One moment the reader rejoices with Sophia over some small victory, only to have the book steal your breath with the next entry as fate deals Sophia and her family a crushing blow. This glossy history seduces readers with unforgettable characters, lush descriptions, and well-meted detail -- and whether documenting a hard-won victory, the thrill of love realized, or the tragedy of loss, through Sophia's journals Cooper immerses her readers deeply within her characters' gloriously-rendered, Technicolor-hued lives.

The FitzOsbornes at War is the crowning jewel in the Montmaray Journals series, a heady, intoxicating, unforgettable blend of fact and fiction. Sophia is one of the most engaging narrators I've ever had the pleasure of "meeting" via the page, and her ruminations on life and love, family and world affairs are humorous, intelligent, and often positively raw in their honesty. Even in exile Cooper plays with the idea of home and family, for though Montmaray may fall, what it represents -- the idea of home, the importance of one's history, an ever-moving, evolving symbol of family -- shines through, making Sophia's journals a timeless, relatable chronicle of the time in which she lived and in a broader sense, of the human experience. This is historical fiction at its finest, a journey worth taking and not to be missed.

The Hour returns!

I am SO excited. I just discovered that The Hour is returning to BBC America for its second season November 28th. Here's a short preview:

Grimm 2.9: "La Llorona"

Last week Grimm made a splash in the ratings with "La Llorona," the much-hyped Halloween episode. Which is really ironic, because isn't every episode of this show more or less a little slice of Halloween? *wink* In a change of pace for this show, the writers based this episode's storyline not on a traditional fairy tale, but on the Hispanic legend of "La Llorona," the Weeping Woman. In a world filled with the strange and inexplicable, it was wonderful to see these characters grapple with something that falls far outside even their wide experience with the weird, whacky, and oft-times frightening world that exists just outside of "normal."

This episode opens with a father and son enjoying a fishing excursion along the Willamette River. Just as they're settling in, the father, Luis (David Barrera -- he's appeared in everything from Fairly Legal to Human Target to In Plain Sight) notices a disturbing sight. A weeping woman (Angela Alvarado), dressed in a flowing white gown, is slowly walking deeper and deeper in the water, apparently intent on suicide. Rushing to her aide, Luis leaves his son on the pier to watch while he desperately tries to pull the woman back to shore -- but she cannot be found. After several futile dives, the would-be rescuer emerges for air to a horrifying sight -- the woman in white leading his son, Rafael (Joseph Aceves) away. He gives chase, but when he emerges onto the parking area near the river the pair is no where to be found.

I love the set-up for this mystery. Even the way in which this opening sequence is shot has a more movie-like feel to it than previous episodes. It seems that Grimm was intent upon delivering an "event" episode and pulled out all the stops in order to achieve that aim. This tonal "shift" continues with our first glimpse of Nick (David Giuntoli) opening the weapons cache in Aunt Marie's trailer, and solemnly selecting a vicious, spiked Morning Star. I was SURE that Nick was on the trail of a particularly aggressive Wesen, but instead the show is just playing with our expectations as it is shortly revealed that he's delivering the Morning Star to Monroe (Silas Weir Mitchell). Remember how much Monroe loved Christmas? Well no surprise I'm sure but he goes even MORE all-out celebrating Halloween (it seriously looked like the set designers dumped several stores' worth of tacky, spooky decor on his lawn!) and wanted a Morning Star to smash pumpkins and scare the kids -- a weapon Nick hands over with understandable trepidation. I think my favorite line during this exchange was Monroe's off-hand comment about the Wesen tradition of transforming on Halloween and scaring the crap out of villagers (often literally, ha!!).

Just as Nick gets the call notifying him of Rafael's kidnapping, a woman across the country wakes from a nightmare involving a ghostly woman in a river. It becomes quickly apparent that she is some sort of investigator, as her walls are littered with maps and reports -- but most significantly, a suspect sketch of a woman identical to the one who took Rafael. In short order it is revealed that this mystery woman is an investigator (she books a flight to Portland when a national Amber Alert breaks for Rafael) and a Wesen (correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't this the first Wesen we've "met" in law enforcement? Not counting Renard... *wink*) -- a Balam, or jaguar-like creature with gorgeous, blue-tinged fur. Balams apparently tend towards obsessiveness and are extremely clannish, both qualities that the actress playing this role manages to convey extraordinarily well. This is probably one of the show's best examples of having a human character exhibit qualities unique to his or her Wesen counterpart that I can think of.

Meanwhile, back in Portland Nick and Hank (Russell Hornsby) are investigating the scene of Rafael's disappearance. Since Luis doesn't speak English, and the department's only official translator is apparently MIA, Nick calls Juliette (Bitsie Tulloch) in to help -- isn't that oh-so-convenient? :) This development leads to Juliette and Renard (Sasha Roiz) making eyes at each other (how no one else notices this is beyond me) and driving me INSANE. It's also an excuse for a brief reappearance of Ryan the klutzy intern (Michael Grant Terry), who at this point seems to exist for no other purpose than to provide brief comic (not to mention awkward) moments. Surely that isn't the only point for this character's introduction...??

With Juliette serving as translator Nick and Hank move the investigation to Luis's home. The Halloween/Day of the Dead decorations are a nice reminder of this episode's roots in Hispanic lore, a nicely atmospheric touch. While there is little forward momentum in discovering who is behind Rafael's kidnapping, Juliette is singled out by a family friend, Pilar (Bertila Damas), come to offer her support to Luis. But Pilar is a surprisingly unwelcome presence in his home, as she is convinced that Rafael was taken by the ghostly "La Llorona," a suggestion the increasingly frantic Luis rejects out of hand. Damas lends Pilar the look and manner of a mystic, which goes a long way towards explaining her unexpected interest in Juliette's "aura" and the cat-scratch scars on her hand. I LOVED this, because honestly with all of the weirdness in Portland I thought it was beyond time that SOMEONE picked up on Juliette's brush with dark magic! When Pilar attempts to counsel Juliette that she'll soon have to choose between essentially two loves, Juliette quickly becomes defensive -- clearly this is a sort spot. And I LOVE that because it is a tantalizing promise of further  dramatic conflict between her, Renard, and Nick. Her role as emergency translator felt extraordinarily contrived, but to my mind her scene with Pilar was worth the narrative stretch. :)

The Wesen detective, Valentina (Kate del Castillo), finally arrives in Portland with a thick file of information on similar missing children cases. In each instance that she's tracked, three children are taken on Halloween night and turn up dead the next morning. This leads to a discussion of the perpetrator's modus operandi, mirroring the La Llorona legend. In that story, a woman is scorned by her husband, rejected in favor of another woman, and seeks revenge on her husband by drowning their children. Grief-stricken and remorseful, the woman in question goes insane, crying for the children she killed. Valentina suspects that their suspect is a serial killer modeling herself after the legend (which would be EXTRAORDINARILY creepy as is, but given that this is Grimm, of course there's more to this story than meets the eye).Interestingly enough Valentina's sudden appearance and obsessive passion for this spate of crimes arouses Renard's suspicion, and he requests her file from the Albuquerque PD. (Side  note: Could he have recognized she was a Wesen and been extra suspicious as a result? Or are we thinking this was just conscientious police work?)

True to Valentina's predictions, the woman in white takes another child. Interestingly enough the locations of the abductions around the confluence of the Williamette and Columbia Rivers mirror the previous cases, all of which occurred at three points around similar bodies of water. While investigating the crime scene at the Columbia location, Renard shows up with the FBI and has Valentina arrested for impersonating an officer -- it seems her obsession with the La Llorona killer led to her dismissal from the Albuquerque force. When questioned she admits that her obsession with La Llorona is in fact extraordinarily personal -- her nephew was taken and killed by the weeping woman when she appeared in Albuquerque years before. Nick and Hank decide to investigate Nick's family archives and are troubled to discover that while previous Grimms encountered this weeping woman, none could provide a satisfactory (and corporeal) explanation for her existence. Taking matters into their own hands, Nick and Hank opt to release Valentina and leverage her knowledge of La Llorona, a task made all the more pressing by the news that the third child has been taken.

I absolutely LOVED how the final confrontation with the weeping woman played out on-screen. The eerie scene of her walking the three entranced children to the water's edge, calling up a vision of her own long-dead children was nicely chilling. And Nick's frantic race into the water and subsequent struggle with the woman -- loved it! (Sort of reminded me of the Once episode that introduced the Lady of the Lake!) At first I thought that Nick's "Grimm" blood might force the woman to transform into a decaying corpse or something -- but the show made instead a better call, leaving the storyline eerily unresolved. At the stroke of midnight the woman releases Nick from their fight and sinks into the depths of the river -- and that is probably more unsettling for Nick, Hank, and Valentina than anything else they've encountered that hour. I LOVE the fact that the woman just disappears, leaving more questions than answers in her wake...a nice and creepy touch, leaving Nick & company wondering whether or not she'll make a reappearance! :)

So all's well at ends well -- for these three children and their families at any rate. Back to Monroe for a second -- I adore his enthusiasm, and how cute was the moment when he saves a trick-or-treater from bullies? "Thank you Mr. Monroe!" ADORABLE. I also thought it was a fun touch having him morph into his Blutbad form to scare those same bullies who decided they needed to break his window with the Morning Star. While this episode touched on the on-going storyline involving Juliette and Renard's unspoken mutual attraction, it opted to shift focus from the regular Grimm/Wesen mythology and deliver a nicely creepy hour that even a full-fledged Grimm struggled to come to terms with. A solid, thoroughly enjoyable hour -- but given this teaser from tomorrow's episode, I can't say I'll be sorry to return to the show's current on-going storylines. :)

Oh. My. GRIMM!