Category Archives: Reviews

Heat Wave, by "Richard Castle"

Television and motion picture tie-in books are always a gamble. Sometimes they’re written on the cheap by newcomers (talented or not), and sometimes hard-working pros (like the late, great Stuart M. Kaminsky) make them a delight… or a disappointment.

I’m happy to report that Heat Wave by “Richard Castle” is not only a superior effort among tie-in books, but one of the most enjoyable mysteries I’ve read this year. On top of that, it gave me a subjective reader’s experience I’ve never had before (which I’ll explain further along).

One warning—the paperback version has the smallest print I’ve seen in a novel in years. If you’re over 50, you’ll need your bifocals for this one.

For those unfamiliar with the joke, “Richard Castle” is the hero of an ABC television series, “Castle,” in which he’s portrayed by the charismatic actor Nathan Fillion. Castle is a bestselling author who exerts personal leverage to get permission to follow around a New York detective squad led by Det. Kate Beckett (played by the beautiful Stana Katic). Castle falls in love with Beckett, who is attracted but keeps him at an arm’s length. He makes her the heroine (thinly disguised under the name “Nikki Heat”) of a novel called Heat Wave. That book (we are invited to believe) is the one we are reading here. Continue reading Heat Wave, by "Richard Castle" →

DVD Review: Terribly Happy

The synopsis on Terribly Happy‘s Amazon page suggests that it’s a black comedy. I know I take a risk in disputing that categorization, but on the other hand I actually understand some of the dialogue behind the subtitles (which are excellently translated, by the by), and I say no, it’s not a comedy. It’s a cross between a western and a noir.

The style of this Danish film is pretty close to a western. It has the look both of traditional westerns and the Italian variety, and the opening is archetypal horse opera (without the horses). The new marshal (Robert Hansen, played by Jakob Cedergren) arrives in town (the subtitle people insist on translating lensman as marshal. It’s more like constable, but I understand their reasons). He is tall and lean and sad-faced, like Will Kane from High Noon. He harbors a secret, a bad thing he did that got him reassigned from Copenhagen to this moribund community in the midst of the flat fields and bogs of southern Jutland. The locals don’t cotton to him from the start. “We have our own ways of handling things,” they tell him. “If we have a problem, it goes out to the Bog.”

But the form of the film is Film Noir. From the very beginning, Robert is faced with a series of dilemmas, choices in how to deal with various infractions of the law, and he almost always takes the line of least resistance in handling them. This leads, seemingly inevitably (but not really; the filmmakers pull a couple fast ones) to increasingly horrific mistakes. Most of these mistakes center on the Buhl family, a living domestic nightmare. Ingerlise Buhl (Lene Maria Christensen) is an attractive, seductive woman who complains frequently of being beaten by her husband (thuggish urban cowboy Jørgen, played by Kim Bodnia), but is never willing to follow through with a formal complaint. Local gossip says that when their little girl Dorthe (Mathilda Maack) walks the streets with her doll carriage, Jørgen is beating Ingerlise—but Robert never actually sees or hears it happen.

And that’s before it starts getting bad.

Some people think that noir film is amoral, but I think the secret of the best noir is that it’s hyper-moral. No sin goes unpunished. What noir films lack is grace. The god of noir is a jealous god (in an ironic touch, a large needlepoint hangs over the door in a crime scene, with the verse, “Gud Er Kjærlighet” [God is Love]).

A particularly interesting element of Terribly Happy is the local pastor, played by Henrik Lykkegaard. It’s not a big part—his longest speech is a homily at a funeral, possibly the worst funeral sermon in human history. What interests me is that the man seems to have no gospel in his inventory. He is part of the local system, a system based on an eye for an eye. Robert’s sins may be covered up and overlooked, but the only salvation left to him in the end is to find as comfortable a personal hell as possible.

Or maybe it is a comedy, and I just didn’t get it.

Interesting movie. Not for kids.

The Murder Room, by P.D. James



I recently finished P.D. James’ The Murder Room (2003) beautifully read by Charles Keating. It is a straight-forward detective novel with enjoyable depth, but not really twists and turns. I see The Complete Review has reviewed it more, um, completely than I plan to here.

The story reveals the three siblings who are trustees of a small, unique museum named Dupayne in the London area opposing each other on whether to sign a new lease and allow the unprofitable museum to continue. Several others associated with the museum are walking around, and, of course, someone gets torched. No, it isn’t an accident, even though some characters want to believe it was suicide.

As I listened, I kept thinking about how the second murder yet to come would change the way I interpreted the details. I thought two or three people could have murder the first person, having motive and opportunity, but why would they kill someone else? I didn’t figure it out ahead of time.

I wonder if James’ mysteries have more to offer in the side trails than on the main road. The Murder Room has a warm chapter with the two of the detectives interviewing one of the fringe couples out of routine. It was a young couple with a baby, the husband being connected to a Paul Nash painting in the Dupayne museum. James’ choice of words in this chapter impressed me as geared toward highlighting the life of the child and this poor couple. They had very little, but they were tied to the past by the husband’s father and grandfather’s interest in that painting, and somehow it seeded hope for them. More so, some words appear to be inspire the reader to reflect on what is being aborted when that ugly choice is made.

Detective Inspector Kate Miskin’s wrestling with British class conflicts and arguments about the nature of girl’s education enrich the story as well.

Bearing the Saint, by Donna Farley

Anyone with an interest in the Vikings knows of the island and monastery of Lindisfarne. The start of the Viking Age is generally dated to 793, when a devastating and unanticipated raid from Scandinavia brought about its sacking. After centuries as a place of sanctuary, the island became from that day on a target, getting hit again and again by plunder-hungry Northmen. In 875 the entire Lindisfarne community, monks, priests, and lay folk, packed up the monastery treasures, including the remains of Saint Cuthbert and a holy book (thought to be the Lindisfarne Gospels), and set off to find a safer place.

They wandered the land like the children of Israel until 882, when a new monastery site was found (it was relocated to Durham some time after).

Bearing the Saint by Donna Farley is a young adult novel dramatizing the adventures and sufferings of that company during its period of homelessness. As the story begins, the hero, a boy named Edmund, is mourning the loss at sea of his fisherman father. Soon he has much more to worry about as he becomes part of the exodus. Over the years that follow he grows up, becomes one of the bishop’s official “saint bearers,” suffers hunger and exposure, has adventures, falls in love, and comes to terms with Danish rule in Northumberland.

I found the book’s pace a little leisurely for my taste. It was episodic, but that’s the nature of this kind of story, so I can’t call that a criticism. The narrative engaged me, but I wouldn’t call it compelling. It did educate me on an aspect of the history of the Danelaw with which I hadn’t been much familiar.

The book is published by Conciliar Press, an Orthodox publisher, and was sent to me by an Orthodox friend. Considering that fact, along with the monastic elements of the story, I would have expected there to be a lot more promotion of monasticism in it than there is. In fact, none of the main characters becomes a monk or a nun in the course of the story, which surprised me. Evangelical readers won’t find the sacramental aspects offensive, I think (unless the idea of saints’ miracles offends them).

I’d say Bearing the Saint is a good, wholesome book that might be especially useful to homeschooling parents who want to teach their children some history.

DVD Review: The Whole Wide World

Here’s a remarkably fine, distinctive film, the victim of criminally bad distribution, which ought to be better known.

In 1933 Novalyne Price, a young schoolteacher and aspiring writer in Cross Plains, Texas, met the most famous man in town, the pulp magazine writer (and creator of Conan the Barbarian), Robert E. Howard. They liked each other, and Novalyne wanted to learn about writing, so they dated for a time (she was his only known girlfriend). Eventually they broke up due to Howard’s volatile personality. In 1936 she went to college in Louisiana and never saw him again. He committed suicide that same year.

But thankfully for fans and scholars, Novalyne had taken up the Boswell-like discipline of writing down conversations she overheard or participated in, including those she had with Howard. She kept these journals for many years.

In the 1970s and ’80s, after Howard had been rediscovered by fans and critics alike, she grew irritated with the amount of armchair psychoanalysis that was being done on her old friend. She organized her journals into a memoir called The Man Who Walked Alone, which came to the attention of filmmaker Dan Ireland. And so the movie The Whole Wide World came to be. Continue reading DVD Review: The Whole Wide World →

West Oversea reviewed by Brandon Barr



Oh shoot, why not post a picture of the cover?

Fantasy author Brandon Barr reviews my West Oversea at his blog, here.

He says nice things.

I’ve been in contact with Brandon in the past, but I have to admit I haven’t read either of his co-authored books. I must remedy this. He is clearly a man of taste and discernment.

DVD Review: "Burn Notice"

It’s a mark of my monumental self-absorption that I make so bold as to review the wonderful USA Network series, “Burn Notice” (thanks to S.T. Karnick of The American Culture for bringing it to my attention), since I’m too cheap to pay for cable, and all of you probably knew about it long before I did. But I’m watching the DVDs now on my Netflix account, and I’m so enthusiastic I’ve got to say something. Quite a lot, actually.

The premise of “Burn Notice” is that the hero, Michael Westen (played by Jeffrey Donovan), is a spy who has come under suspicion in the agency, and so has been “burned”—that is, dumped in a city, with no money, credit, or legal identity, so to speak marooned.

Fortunately, he’s burned in Miami, his old home town, where he has considerable human resources Continue reading DVD Review: "Burn Notice" →

Triple Crown, by Dick Francis


A while back I reviewed Dick Francis’ mystery, Decider, and said I’d be reading more. So I picked up the collection Triple Crown (comprising Dead Cert, Nerve, and For Kicks) and read it last week. It was an intriguing reading experience for me.
I have a hard time pinning down what’s so compelling in a Dick Francis mystery. Most of the stories revolve around the sport of racing (with the corruption that racetrack betting invites), and that’s a field of endeavor in which I’ve never had much interest (though I’ll admit that if I have to watch a horse race, I’d prefer a steeplechase, which is the kind of racing Francis concentrates on, at least in the novels I’ve read). I can’t say that he’s a brilliant stylist—in fact I’d characterize him as the kind of author who disappears totally, which isn’t a bad way to get your reader invested in your characters. I can’t say he’s especially skilled at crafting vivid characters. And yet I found myself horizontal on the couch for hours, turning page after page, absolutely under the spell of the stories.
Dead Cert, I understand, was Francis’ first published novel. It’s good, but I think he was still feeling his way. Nerve was his second book, and by then he’d already found his pace. This was possibly the most satisfying tale of revenge I’ve ever read. And For Kicks amazed me. It was the compelling adventure of a man who takes a dangerous job for money, endures great suffering and violence, and in the end learns something about himself that changes his life.
I think what I particularly like is that Francis writes about manly men. Men blessed, and burdened, with strength, integrity, and courage, Churchillian in their resolve never to give up.
What a joy to discover an author you didn’t know before, who has a long list of published works you can look forward to!