The Lion & the Eagle (2022) #2

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This issue’s one part history lesson, one part ground situation establishing, one part war action. The Chindit forces are moving into position now, airdropped behind Japanese lines to wreak havoc. Writer Garth Ennis tells most of their successes in summary, outside the opening battle sequence, where artist PJ Holden reveals how glorious and gory the art will get.

Though Holden does once again get a little confused with the shifts between time periods. It’s particularly noticeable this time because almost the entire story comes through in dialogue about the latest war developments, so the issue demands attention. Even then, the time shifts are wonky.

It’s a minor complaint, however, and the only one. Otherwise, Lion & the Eagle is fantastic comics storytelling. Ennis plays around with the layering, giving the reader the backstory on the Chindit operation as a postscript once their mission changes. He’s very deliberate about the narration from protagonist Crosby and where and when things get introduced. Unlike the first issue, there’s not much in the way of character development. When Crosby’s pal, Alistair, finally gets something to do and Crosby muses on the last issue’s revelations, it’s almost the end of the issue, and these aren’t the most essential musings of the day. There’s a war on, after all.

Ennis puts a lot of effort into the supporting cast, starting with Havildar-Major Singh and his professional relationship with Crosby. Ennis spends much of the issue introducing the Gurkhas, the fearsome, joyful Nepalese soldiers. Ennis (and Crosby) get to have some fun amid the horror.

The history also seems ripe for a story, just the way things happened. Not even the Japanese forces being more formidable than initially assumed, but how happenstance can change the course of an operation and history. Ennis and Holden take their time with the comic, never rushing a conversation or briefing. It’s precise and exquisite. As expected, but still incredibly impressive.

Resident Alien (2021) s02e10 – The Ghost of Bobby Smallwood

There are some fine performances this episode, but the whole thing seems strangely off, starting with the opening involving the kid who gets lost in the mines back in the thirties. It’s been a setting detail from the first season, but now we’re seeing it happen for some reason. By the time it’s relevant, the episode’s a third done, then it’s not clear why it’s more important for another third. In the meantime, there’s a lot of country music and sad regular cast members.

Except, of course, Sara Tomko, who Alan Tudyk brainwashed last episode to forget killing a bad guy to save him. He also wiped her memory of meeting estranged, given-up-for-adoption daughter Kaylayla Raine, who Tomko then stood up because she didn’t remember making plans. It ends up being an excellent episode for Tomko, as far as acting fodder, but the entire thing is a do-over of last episode.

They get away with it because it’s believable for Tudyk’s character, but… it’s not great plotting.

The script’s credited to Christian Taylor, their first credit. There’s some good stuff, and there’s some middling stuff. Good stuff is Tomko, Tudyk, hilarious deadpan nurse Diana Rang, and some of Alice Wetterlund’s romance arc. The middling stuff is Corey Reynolds getting excited to work with neighboring town’s detective Nicola Correia-Damude because they’re both from the East Coast. Last episode, Correia-Damude thought Reynolds was a loud-mouth doofus, this episode, she thinks he’s a loud-mouth from DC and full of good ideas.

Meanwhile, Elizabeth Bowen’s jealous Reynolds isn’t paying attention to her professionally again, which was a big—and seemingly resolved—story arc.

Then there’s mayor Levi Fiehler and his wife, Meredith Garretson, having marital problems. Fiehler makes the mistake of asking Reynolds for advice and taking it. Just like Wetterlund’s arc with beau Justin Rain, the episode rushes into the fire, then puts it out immediately. Big, easy-to-resolve stakes.

Wetterlund and Rain are at least cute. Fiehler and Garretson are annoying.

Cute, but annoyingly not in the episode enough are Gracelyn Awad Rinke and Judah Prehn. At first, it seems like Prehn’s going to be off-screen the whole episode because he doesn’t figure into parents Fiehler and Garretson’s lives this episode at all, but then he shows up to check in with Rinke and set up something for later.

The episode seems discombobulated. Director Kabir Akhtar doesn’t do a bad job—and does quite well with some of the performances—but he also doesn’t save the episode from the meandering script.

Or the grating country songs over all the heartache and sadness scenes, which are most of them this episode.

Evil (2019) s03e10 – The Demon of the End

“Evil” leans heavily on this season finale being a transitory one, making efforts to close off some strangling story arcs. There’s some more complicated Katja Herbers and Mike Colter making eyes at each other; she, of course, doesn’t know his demon is just her in a schoolgirl outfit, which gets touched on this episode. Nun Andrea Martin shames Colter for not keeping his demons in check. She’s seemingly forgiven him from a few episodes ago, so now they can have awkward moments while Herbers’s husband, Patrick Brammall, is around for once.

Presumably. The show never seems to have Brammall available when they need him. He gets a significant arc in this episode, which ends with at least two threads going into season four. The only person without a future-facing plot line is Aasif Mandvi, actually. He’s just along for the ride.

The episode begins with a resolution to last episode’s shocking cliffhanger. Turns out Li Jun Li isn’t going to be a new regular; there are some “trust us, we’re the Catholic Church” shenanigans, with the episode further pressing the religiosity button. They try real hard to give Herbers a “questioning her agnosticism” story arc. She makes a deal with God and everything at one point. It’s not a great arc, but Herbers is lined up for an all-time big reaction scene at the beginning of next season, so the show makes it up to her. And it does give her and Colter more time together.

There’s a possibility Wallace Shawn is joining the show as a regular next episode. It seems like the job’s his if he wants it. He’s good. But the show’s also set up so it doesn’t need him to return regularly to keep things going; they’ve got the requisite cast down to an already unmanageable ten, but with fourteen or so familiar characters. It’s such a big show for so little.

The case involves Herbers’s previously off-screen only newish neighbor, Quincy Tyler Bernstine. Bernstine and Herbers share a duplex, an arrangement the show’s never made particularly clear before. The place next door is haunted and it seems to be because Brammall flushed a demon baby head down the toilet at the beginning of the season. The mystery keeps Herbers close to home for her family arc there; otherwise, it’s barely relevant. The big season finale stuff more involves Brammall, and then Herbers’s missing egg from her fertility clinic. They tack a scene on with it to get to the main cliffhanger.

It’s okay? Probably the smoothest John Dahl-directed episode I remember and, given my aversion to seeing Rockne S. O’Bannon’s name on the script credit, probably his smoothest episode too? It’s “Evil,” there’s only so much it can ever do.

Oh, there is some great stuff with Martin and Herbers’s oldest daughter, Brooklyn Shuck. It’s the first time in ages Shuck’s shown any character outside being part of the sister banter.

All Rise (2019) s03e10 – Fire and Rain

There is more “All Rise” coming. While the OWN website says it’s a ten-episode section season, IMDb has all the titles for next season, whether it’s a three and a half or a four. I’m fascinated by the show’s production timelines, going back to the end of first season when Covid-19 lockdown changed the show’s trajectory.

So, whether it’s the end of season three or season three, part one, Fire and Rain is a great episode. It’s probably “All Rise”’s best episode. Technically speaking, it’d be hard to beat, and they’ve never done anything like this one before.

Showrunner Denitria Harris-Lawrence directed last season’s finale too, which at the time was the show’s finale, but it was nothing like this episode. This episode’s an action suspense thriller, with TikTok terrorist Nick Fink threatening to loose his mob on the courthouse. His scumbag sidekick, a perfect Josh Gilmer, is loitering around the courthouse to intimidate witness Olivia Aguilar.

Now, Jessica Camacho is encouraging Aguilar to testify, sort of as a favor to Wilson Bethel, even though U.S. attorney Nitya Vidyasagar is offering a better deal. So Camacho has stuck her neck out. It’d be terrible if something went wrong, like Ronak Gandhi screwing up some paperwork and it causing a disastrous continuance.

Of course, Sean Blakemore is defending Fink, and it’s in Simone Missick’s courtroom. So even though the episode opened with some very sexy marital canoodling for Missick and Christian Keyes—another series first, man-buns—there’s a lot of tension later on. Especially after Blakemore reveals he’s using their chemistry to manipulate her; it’s easily Blakemore’s best episode on the show and arguably his only good performance of the role so far.

Then there are the relationship troubles for Wilson Bethel and Lindsey Gort. She’s not telling him the real reason she doesn’t want to get married, and every time it seems like they’re going to have it out, Bethel needs another scene where Ian Anthony Dale yells at him. Dale’s performance is a little shaky this episode; he’s not believable as a yelly boss anymore, not after his party bro dream version a couple episodes ago.

Lindsay Mendez helps Gandhi try to repair the damage to the case, while J. Alex Brinson mostly offers support for Camacho. As for Camacho, who isn’t one of the cast members primed for an exit even though she’s never gotten an office this season… I really hope she’s back. She’s gotten so good on this show.

There’s a minor but urgent subplot for Samantha Marie Ware too.

Plus, Paul McCrane and Roger Guenveur Smith sucking up to Missick for election support. It’s a full episode with multiple cliffhangers, including a much foreshadowed one.

If they managed to keep this momentum going into the season premiere or whatever the next episode’s called… it’d be awesome for the show. I had no idea they could do an episode this good.

Resident Alien (2021) s02e09 – Autopsy

“Resident Alien” returns with a lot of laughs but even more heart. There are some really, really good laughs, too, like when Alan Tudyk plays impromptu marriage counselor to Levi Fiehler and Meredith Garretson. Despite the outrageous events of last episode—an alien baby hatching, eating mammals, mind-melding with Tudyk, escaping after a bad guy shoots at it, then Sara Tomko shoots the bad guy to save Tudyk, which Alice Wetterlund witnesses without context—things are back to normal for most of the town the next day.

Only not Tomko, who’s plagued with guilt over killing the bad guy. Even with Wetterlund consoling her—Tudyk does as well, but he’s a murderous alien—Tomko can’t get over it, and it gives her an entirely new arc for the show, something borne of the show and not her backstory. There’s a backstory-related subplot, but it’s a lovely move—plenty of character development potential to go around, in fact.

In addition to Tomko, Wetterlund’s getting serious about dating, Garretson’s pregnant, Tudyk’s the town doctor again; “Resident Alien”’s primed for this season’s second half. The main plot seems like it’s going to be the murder investigation. Tudyk and Wetterlund dump the body somewhere they know they can get away with it—the motel where town ditz Jenna Lamia (who’s fantastic this episode) works. Except it’s close to the county line and Fiehler doesn’t want another murder on the town’s books, so he tries to sabotage Corey Reynolds.

Some great moments for Reynolds this episode, as usual, including when he meets the neighboring town’s detective, played by Nicola Correia-Damude. Meanwhile, Elizabeth Bowen’s still building her alien truther subplot, which may tie-in to all the other alien stuff, including Alex Barima and Linda Hamilton teaming up despite her trying to kill him all last season.

Tudyk’s plot this episode involves a newfound fear of death, but it’s the C plot after the investigation and Tomko’s guilt. It’s a nicely busy episode, punctuated with some very funny moments. Lamia keeps the bit going longer than she’s ever done before and it works out surprisingly well.

So then, standout performances would be her, Tomko, obviously, Tudyk, Reynolds. It’s a nice return, which will probably play entirely different when binged, but right now it feels like “Resident Alien”’s kicking off the next part of the arc and doing a good job of it.

Harley Quinn: The Animated Series: The Eat. Bang! Kill. Tour (2021) #6

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Eat. Bang! Kill. ends better than I was expecting. While the sludge monster, Mephitic, holds Harley prisoner and tries in vain to find a way past her poison immunity, Ivy teams up with Vixen for a rescue mission. Along the way—pretty early on—Ivy meets Vixen’s girlfriend and starts getting insight into how healthy relationships work.

It’s an excellent sequence, with the girlfriend, Elle, excited to be guest starring in the issue and Vixen utterly unamused at Elle and Ivy’s fast friendship. It’s delightful.

They have a team-up and mount-up routine to go through as Mephitic decides to start injecting Ivy with toxins versus airborne, so the stakes raise throughout. Writer Tee Franklin employs lots of narration snippets from the various cast members to significant effect this issue. Everyone gets to participate this time.

The finale has some prep for the show’s next season, including some cameos from show-only cast members. Franklin writes them perfectly.

The big fight sequence heavily relies on character relationships, with artist Max Sarin a little confused how to break everything out. There are some fight scene cameo surprises; Sarin does fine breaking those out; it’s the actual blow-by-blow of the fight.

Thank goodness what matters more is Ivy and Harley making lovey-talk, which Franklin and Sarin have got down. It’s viciously adorable.

I’m not sure this series had to be six issues—given the arc and the eventual resolution for Ivy (i.e., let’s wait for the show), it could’ve been three or four. Three would’ve been best or four but with backups to other characters.

Still, it’s a solid outing, quite good for being a comic spin-off to a streaming cartoon, in continuity but not required reading to follow the show. I wouldn’t be surprised if it reads better in one sitting too, though the finale tie-in is perfect for a monthly periodical.

The Lion & the Eagle (2022) #1

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The Lion & the Eagle is oversize; bigger, squarish pages. Artist PJ Holden doesn’t fill the larger canvas with more panels, instead increasing the panels’ sizes, filling those larger pages with bigger content, not more content. Holden also does a lot of top-third double-page spreads; he’s clearly thinking it through.

So it’s unfair when the issue’s only problem seems like an art problem. It’s not; it’s an editing problem. The issue has a running flashback, and the transition returning to the past doesn’t work because it’s entirely about writer Garth Ennis’s narration, with a disconnected visual.

It had me confused and reading the issue mistaking one resolution for another. However, it’s an excellent comic even with the stumble, with Holden’s expressive, character-based art and Ennis’s combination of reflective and informative writing.

Lion & the Eagle is a World War II story; the protagonist is a white Indian army officer. They’re loading up to mount an offensive against the Japanese, who’ve been kicking their asses the last few years without the British government really taking note. It wasn’t until the Americans showed up with vehicles and weapons they’ve been able to even consider an advance.

The issue opens with the officer, Crosby, having a conversation about the state of the war with a Chinese observer. Crosby then goes and hangs out with his doctor best friend, Leonard McCoy… wait, no, Alistair Whitamore. They go from war politics to race politics, thoughtfully bantering; it’s a war buddy story.

While talking, Crosby remembers the time they first met; cue tense flashback.

Lion & the Eagle doesn’t spare the gore, though all of it is in flashbacks so far. While we get some context for the flashback’s resolution, all the information about the current operation—the series’s main plot—comes during dialogue exchanges, and the characters often talk about the impending mission.

Holden does a fabulous job with the talking heads. There are a lot of talking heads, including in the flashback, during non-combat action scenes. The art’s the most impressive thing about this larger format; what could’ve been a gimmick is not; as usual, Holden and Ennis are making something special.

All Rise (2019) s03e09 – Truth Hurts

I want to be more enthusiastic about this episode of “All Rise,” but I don’t trust the show anymore. They’ve resolved Simone Missick’s extra-marital flirtation arc with (not appearing this episode) Sean Blakemore. Again. They promise this time. For sure. This time it’s over.

For sure.

The resolution arc involves Missick’s husband, Christian Keyes, who hasn’t had this much to do all season. Even though—as Keyes points out—he’s been selfless primary caregiver to their infant daughter, he comes off looking like a complete asshole this episode. I’ve always wondered if Keyes—recast from the original actor—was a stopgap before a potential fourth season without the character. It doesn’t seem like it anymore, but who knows? The show’s always been terrible with Missick’s marriage.

Keyes has strong-armed his way into a case of Wilson Bethel’s; Missick’s the judge on the case. It’s a continuation of a Jessica Camacho arc from like four episodes ago. Unfortunately, this season’s longer arcs are a mess. It’s a lot of drama for everyone involved, which Bethel (in his capacity as director) leans into a little much. He tries to match scene intensity with shaky camera work or fast cuts, which never works out.

And while Bethel does get the twist ending of the episode—it’s a talky, too vague, too hurried twist, he’s hands off from the main plot. J. Alex Brinson is defending a strip club customer accused of drugging a dancer. Evan Arnold’s the exceptionally well-cast sexual predator, Lindsey Normington plays the dancer. Bethel’s supposed to try it, working with Lindsay Mendez to gain the trust of the club’s dancers, only to kick it to newbie Ronak Gandhi.

The arc has multiple twists, including Gandhi’s major crush on Normington and not professionally respecting Mendez enough. It’s harrowing, with good supporting performances from Brinson and Missick. It’s all about Gandhi and Mendez, though.

Meanwhile, Camacho literally hops between plots, visiting all her pals without a case of her own. It’s still entirely unclear if “All Rise” is downgrading Camacho for an easy exit or if they just can’t manage all these characters.

And then Marg Helgenberger shows up for a brief cameo to remind everyone she’s going to show up from time to time.

In addition to the twist ending, there’s a ruling with future repercussions (“All Rise” is about to wrap up its first OWN season). Even with the occasional direction problems, it’s one of the season’s better episodes; it almost feels like they know what they want to do with the show. Almost.

Evil (2019) s03e09 – The Demon of Money

For a show about literally Satanic demons and humans cannibalizing each other to serve their dark lords, “Evil” hasn’t had any significant cast deaths. Certainly not any of the leads, none of the supporting regulars; I don’t even think they’ve had a repeat guest star die off.

Well, unless you’re killed by one of the show leads. I can think of one character.

This episode ends with a supporting character’s death, a relatively big one, with an absolutely lovely finish for regular viewers. I assume everyone who watches “Evil” at this point is a regular viewer.

But the finale’s this tense sequence with one character out to kill another returning guest star, but then another returning guest star interceding. At any point, it could’ve been any of them to go. Incredibly suspenseful for “Evil,” which usually shies away from horror and suspense.

Great direction from Yap Fong-yee.

The main story is about a haunted stock, which ties into the demon map, which ties into returning guest star (no spoilers) Li Jun Li, who came back in what seemed like a cameo last episode but now seems almost a regular recurring character? The episode leans heavy on making Li part of the team in some capacity, thanks to her fortune-telling skills (straight from God’s lips to hers) and really liking hanging out with Herbers’s kids. They go to an indoor amusement thing with a ball pit. It’s silly and broad (Li has Vatican bodyguards), unlike “Evil,” but also what it needs.

While last episode seemed like the series was getting a soft reset in preparation for season four, this episode pulls back on that idea in some areas while accelerating in others. Thanks to the shocking finale, the actual cast change will have major repercussions.

Though any lasting repercussions would be novel on the show.

The mystery doesn’t get much resolution, rather a punchline, as there are more important things going on, like Li being able to tell Christine Lahti’s in league with the dark ones, Kurt Fuller getting Herbers to read his Satanically influenced book draft, and so on. The stock plot, which has the principals giving each other a stock tip to test a scary man appearing, gets a little lost in the second half, but it also doesn’t really matter.

Some terrific acting from Aasif Mandvi, whose incredulity crumbles when faced with an imminent supernatural threat.

It’s an “Evil” episode where things happen. It feels like ages since they’ve done one of these.

Prey (2022, Dan Trachtenberg)

Prey is roughly thirty years late. It’s a Predator prequel with ties to the existing franchise (mainly the second one), but it’s a conceptual no-brainer and one they’ve been doing in the Predator licensed comics for decades. The movies established the Predators had been to Earth before, so why not show one of their earlier encounters? Of course, obviously, anthology series never work; studio reticence makes sense. It’s still a no-brainer.

The film takes place in the eighteenth century on the Northern Great Plains. A Comanche tribe happens across a visiting Predator and, thanks to the ingenuity of a (shouldn’t have been) unexpected hero, survives to tell the tale. And tie into the future continuity.

Amber Midthunder is the unexpected hero, though she’s only the unexpected hero to the tribe. Especially once big brother Dakota Beavers rather shittily reveals he’s been cribbing off Midthunder’s notes their whole lives and taking credit for the synthesis. Her brains, his brawn; well, specifically his male brawn. Midthunder’s a capable hunter, but she’s still a girl. Can’t give the girls too much to do; who else will get up early and go gather.

Beavers leads the tribe’s war party; about a half dozen other red shirts who don’t even care Midthunder knows how to track or treat wounds. Girls, icky bad. Beavers appreciates her contributions, occasionally letting his confidence buck cultural constraints, but he still treats her like competition, not a comrade. Prey could’ve used another six or seven minutes on their relationship, especially how their presumably deceased father figures in. Michelle Thrush plays their mom, but they don’t have any family scenes together, just Thrush and Midthunder, then Midthunder and Beavers, then Thrush observing Beavers’s successes as a hunter from a distance. There’d have been time for it (and not just because the end credits are a shocking eight and a half minutes, Prey desperate to get away from the ninety-minute mark like it’s a nineties action movie).

Even underdeveloped, Midthunder’s a strong enough lead—and Beavers is fine enough support—to keep Prey going through its first and second acts. The third act, when the film becomes the inevitable, rushed series of original Predator homages, is pretty good but never adds up for Midthunder. The problem with doing character development in a Predator movie is the formula doesn’t actually need any, and director Trachtenberg and screenwriter Patrick Aison stick very much to the formula.

They just put another movie at the beginning of it.

Trachtenberg’s direction is always okay and sometimes inspired. Unfortunately, none of those inspired moments come in the third act. Despite four (or six, depending on how you count) precursor Predator movies, Trachtenberg’s got no fresh ideas for his homage sequence. It’s almost like they shouldn’t have done it. But still, always okay, sometimes inspired, never bad.

Lovely cinematography from Jeff Cutter, good music by Sarah Schachner, solid editing from Claudia Castello and Angela M. Catanzaro. Prey has a bunch of pastoral sequences, establishing Midthunder and her faithful dog (alternately the star and not the star of the show), but Trachtenberg hurries through them. At the film’s beginning, I was expecting Prey to go long with its Malick moments. But it doesn’t go anywhere near long enough with them.

Quibbles aside, Prey’s done more for the franchise than anything in decades. Hopefully, Disney’s better making movies about invisible alien monsters killing (mostly deserving) humans than Fox. They sure seem up to the task after this one.