TV Series Review – Luther S5

Warning: Contains EXTREME spoilers. Reader’s discretion is advised.

So, for me Luther was not just the TV event of the Christmas break but the event of the Christmas break. Afterall, we’ve only been waiting three years since season four ended (which really only counted as a two-part special if we’re honest with ourselves). We got our first glimpse of that red tie and that jacket way back in June when Idris Elba announced via Twitter that they were filming. Release date set for “later this year”. I got so excited I got heart palpitations. This is nothing unusual for me and TV series, but still notable. Idris and the BBC then spent the next SIX MONTHS lying to us, its loyal viewers, about the release date, releasing snippets and trailers all saying “later this year”, when in fact it premiered on the 1st of January 2019. This is why I have trust issues.

Anyway, back to the review. Another short season of only four episodes, the BBC’s saving grace was that they would be screened on consecutive nights. Four glorious nights of Luther, back-to-back. Episode one was quintessential Luther – exactly what my soul needed. It even opened with him chasing down a perp in the characteristic beat-up Volvo (why does our risk-taking maverick still insist on driving a car with an impeccable safety record?!). He got out and did the Luther Walk, which is somehow just as fast as the Baddie Run. They exchanged quips, he took him back to the station where Schenk and Benny were waiting and it felt like coming home. Then we were introduced to the real Baddie of the season, a Baddie so Bad you’ll only find them in Luther. And the real world. Which is what makes them so terrifying. I won’t go into detail on Jeremy, mostly because I don’t want to, but I think he is by far the worst (and by worst, I mean best) killer the creators have brought to fruition. He was absolutely terrifying. As was his wife, played superbly by Hermione Norris, meaning Cold Feet will never be the same again.

As all this was going on, Luther was dragged into a side story involving George Cornelius, the gangster he handcuffed to a radiator in season four when he was trying to find out what happened to Alice. And thus began what I believe was ultimately season five’s downfall – the incongruent parallel storylines. Episode one ended with a cheer as Alice was back, one of my favourite characters in anything ever. (Unfortunately, soon to become one of my least favourite characters in anything ever). The tension built over the next two episodes as Luther simultaneously tried to catch a killer (half-heartedly it must be said), appease Cornelius, and try to stop Alice from killing everyone (the usual).

Let’s get down to the nitty gritty of what didn’t work. There is absolutely no way Alice would have been able to kill Cornelius’s son in the way in which she did. First of all, even with her stupid wig on, someone would have recognised her. Secondly, even if they hadn’t recognised her, Cornelius’s men wouldn’t simply have taken her word for it that she was a ‘welcome home present’ – they would have checked with Cornelius first. Lastly, even if they hadn’t checked with Cornelius, there is absolutely no way his body would have gone undiscovered until the next morning – someone would have checked on him during the night. Not such a big deal, but annoying at the very least.

Luther’s treatment of DI Halliday was completely out of character. In fact, the show’s treatment of DI Halliday was completely out of character. She was almost a caricature of a young black female detective. She is given absolutely no personality or individual character traits beyond that. Luther just barks orders at her, with no explanation, often making her do things that have nothing to do with the case at hand, saying he’ll explain later but never doing so. Or he simply pulls rank. He treats her as a skivvy and puts her in uncomfortable situations. Personally, I felt this made Luther look like a sexist arsehole. But I don’t think Luther is a sexist arsehole. It was completely out of sync with how he has treated people, and woman in particular, in previous seasons. It just didn’t make sense. Her whole character didn’t make sense. She was extremely intelligent and made breakthrough discoveries on the case, yet was never shown any acknowledgement of any kind. I don’t think this was intentional by the writers, but I do think it was weird. As for the decision to have Alice kill her, I think that was unnecessary and was done purely for the shock factor. Which was achieved. I will admit it. I was shocked.

Finally, Alice. Oh Alice. How to completely fuck up a character in five minutes. Tut tut writers, tut tut. First of all, she comes out of nowhere and shoots Halliday in the head without hesitation. Psychopath. Then she confesses her undying love for Luther and gets annoyed with his inability to love her back. Um… but she’s a psychopath. She’s incapable of love. She only cares about herself. You’ve spent four seasons telling us this. She just shot an innocent person in the head at close range without a care in the world and now you want us to believe she’s capable of love. Huh? Then she falls off the scaffolding, Luther dives to save her – season one flashbacks – instead of letting him help her back up onto the ledge, she stabs his hand and falls to her death. Um… Alice has always been about self-preservation first, before anything else. She would rather go to jail than die. So, what’s she doing falling to her death? You have just tried to un-psychopath her in the time it took from Halliday’s murder to get to the top of the building site – all of five minutes. And in attempting to do so, you destroyed everything that was so awesome about Alice’s character – that she was a psychopath, but an extremely likeable one.

Oh, and in the meantime, I forgot to mention, you’ve left the most evil serial killer you ever created ALONE handcuffed to a radiator. ALONE. You left him ALONE. ALONE. Are you out of your minds?

It’s hard to put a verdict on this one. It’s Luther, so even if it’s crap, it’s still gonna be at least an 8/10. Episodes 1-3 were outstanding but episode 4 just became an absolute farce. There were things wrong that have never been wrong with Luther before. The thing that always made Luther special was the balance between his personal life, his police work and his weird relationship with Alice. In this season, there was absolutely no balance in sight. I think there was too much story for four episodes and they tried to cram too much into the last 15 minutes. Overall, there was just too much story. Luther himself was all over the place and I felt all over the place with him too at times. It was definitely the weakest season there has been and I can’t see where they’ll go from here. I’ve heard rumblings of a movie. I hope it’s not true. I don’t think it would translate onto the big screen. I might have to re-watch it and re-visit my review, but for now I’m choosing to pretend there are only four seasons of Luther.

Film Review: Get Out

Movie Poster

I was originally supposed to watch Get Out months and months ago on a girls’ weekend away. We had planned a movie night for the Friday evening and my friend who was doing most of the organising wanted something scary and something funny to watch. There were six of us going in total. Five black ladies and me. The lone whitey. I got sick at the last minute and had to cancel. Thank God. They have since confirmed they would have made me sleep in the bathtub with the door locked. From the outside. Fair dues.

If you don’t already know, Get Out tells the tale of Chris, an African-American photographer and his very white, very middle-class girlfriend Rose, who have reached the “meet the parents” relationship milestone. She invites him to her parents’ house for a weekend getaway in what turns out to be a very secluded estate in the woods. They are extremely welcoming and accommodating, but what might at first seem like anxious and over-polite ways to deal with an interracial relationship they might still not be entirely comfortable with, soon turn creepy and unnerving as the weekend progresses. Plus, there’s all the other African-American people who are just behaving strangely like the maid and the gardener and the guest who is the same age as Chris but married to someone twice his age and doesn’t seem to know what a fist bump is. What exactly is going on?!

Chris and Rose

That really is all I want to say on the plot because to risk spoilers is to risk spoiling the movie. The storytelling is genius. I unfortunately knew one of the major plot twists in advance and although it ruined some of the tension, it didn’t ruin my overall enjoyment of the film. As much as it’s a horror movie, it’s a psychological thriller. It’s also a social commentary on racism, white privilege and liberal hypocrisy. The best part is, it’s done so subtly, the cultural critiques and observations are woven so cleverly into the fabric of the narrative, you find yourself horrified by something or laughing at something that you yourself are probably guilty of. I think that’s actually why you leave feeling a little shaken up, rather than because of the horror and the violence.

Writer and director Jordan Peele has made history by becoming the third person to earn best picture, best director, and best screenplay Oscar nominations for a directorial debut. Yes, I thought I would mention his accomplishments before mentioning his skin colour – we can move on to that next. He has the opportunity to be the first African-American to win best director, the fifth to be nominated. Last year he also became the first black writer-director with a $100 million debut when Get Out passed the box office mark in a mere 16 days. Daniel Kaluuya is also nominated for best actor – a most worthy nomination. I think the picture of him in the grey hoodie, strapped to the chair with humungous eyes and tears rolling down his cheeks is going to be an iconic picture for years to come. As far as performances go, I think a special mention should go to LilRel Howery for his role as Rod. Everyone needs a friend like Rod in their life!

Much is being said about Get Out breaking down Oscar barriers by becoming one of only a handful of horror movies to be nominated for best picture. However, I would argue that it’s more of a thriller than a horror. Same goes for Silence of the Lambs. I have literally never heard of it being classified as a horror movie before, except for now, when they want to compare the two. In 1992 Silence of the Lambs swept the top five categories (one of only three films to do so) and as horrifying as some of its scenes might be, it is first and foremost a psychological thriller. Some articles are even including The Sixth Sense and Black Swan in their definition of horror. I think The Exorcist (1973) could legitimately be classified as a horror film. It was nominated but lost out to The Sting, arguably one of the greatest films of all time. Steven Spielberg’s Jaws, straddling the fence between horror and thriller was nominated in 1975 but lost out to One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest – one of the other three films to win all top five categories.

GetOutGallery

I think in general I associate horror movies with gore and the macabre, cheap scares with things jumping out at you and unbelievable, often cringeworthy story lines. That’s why they don’t get nominated for Oscars. When the writing crosses over into the level of prestige and the story becomes thought-provoking, they become thrillers and the Oscar crowd takes notice. Perhaps the comedic value offered by Get Out and the shear farce of the last ten minutes has everyone a bit confused as to how to label it, but at the end of the day, who cares. Jordan Peele made a damn good movie and he’s probably going to make loads more. Woo freaking hoo!

Rating: 3.5/5

 

 

Book Review: Into the Water – by Paula Hawkins

Book Two Into the Water

Pages: 356

Box Ticked: A book that scares you

Paula Hawkin’s debut novel “The Girl on the Train” divided my book club. They either loved it or hated it. Always wanting to be my own person, I had a love-hate relationship with it. I loved the premise (I am definitely one for people-watching and making up

Paula Hawkins Authorimaginary lives for them in my head – although definitely not to a stalker degree), I loved the style (fast-paced and gritty), I loved the setting (having lived in London for a short period I always love a bit of nostalgia); but I loathed the main character, Rachel. I think maybe it’s because I don’t drink, and Rachel drank A LOT! She was also annoyingly pathetic. There’s only so much wallowing in self-pity I can take and I myself am a real wallower. But anyway, the big takeaway from “The Girl on the Train” is that in a Paula Hawkin’s novel, everyone is going to have secrets!

Although also a suspenseful, psychological thriller, “Into the Water” has a very different feel to “The Girl on the Train”. Although I probably could have read it in one sitting – it does grip you and pull you in – like the slow winding river at the story’s core, the narrative unveils itself at a much slower pace and you find yourself wanting to turn the pages slowly and unravel the mystery gradually. It’s hard to know where the story begins but we’ll start with Julia (or Jules). She grew up spending summers in the Old Mill House in the small northern village of Beckford. Beckford doesn’t have much, except for a river, and a disturbing history of women who have lost their lives to it. Julia’s older sister Nel, with whom she had a torrid relationship, was obsessed with the river and its secrets; and has now become part of its mystery herself – she has fallen victim to the river.

Beckford

They say she jumped, but Jules knows that Nel would never have jumped – even though she left her a panicked and distressing voicemail just days before her death, a plea that Jules ignored. Dragged back to Beckford and memories that Jules has spent years trying to forget, she must try push all of that aside They don't all jumpto look after Lena, the teenage daughter that Nel has left behind, who seems convinced that her mom did jump, and is struggling to come to terms with feelings of abandonment. Nel was far from popular in the small town, where she was working on a book detailing its history, specifically that of the river and the mystery surrounding why it attracted such hopelessness and despair. She was not short of enemies, is it possible there is something more sinister to her death?

The story is told from the perspective of each of the characters, whose lives become more and more enmeshed as the story progresses. It is told with such grace and dexterity that Hawkin’s really does have you guessing from page to page who is embroiled with who; who knows what; who jumped and who was pushed? Once again, the characters are flawed, but not beyond hope. Jules suffered intense trauma as a child, while staying in the old Mill House, that is so inter-woven into her relationship with her sister Nel, she has somehow never been able to overcome it, and now she must face the reality that she will never have the opportunity to. We only know Nel through her description from others and the picture painted is a complex one. It is up to the reader to draw their own conclusions, and I love this. In fact, there are so many moral grey areas in this novel, your heart could grow weary if you let it.

The River

I categorised this as “a book that scares you” because I tried to read it last year, but I had to stop. There was absolutely nothing wrong with the book itself, but as you may know if you have read some of my other blog posts, I lost my best friend to suicide last year and the subject matter was hitting a little too close to home. When I couldn’t decide whether or not I was ready to giveThey aren't all pushed it another go, a lady in my book club took my hand and said something that she said my mom had told her about the book when she was struggling with it herself: “Not everyone jumped, and not everyone was pushed.” I was scared going in, but that gave me hope. Right down to the last page, I wanted to know everyone’s story.

Ultimately, I felt that this was a book about love; about who we love and why; and about what love makes us capable of doing. There was one particular passage that stood out for me that I wanted to share:

p.210 “Lena sat motionless, staring at the river outside the window, not crying and not speaking. I had nothing to say to her, no way of reaching her. I recognised in her something I used to have too, something maybe everyone has at that age, some essential unknowability. I thought how odd it was that parents believe they know their children, understand their children. Do they not remember what it was like to be eighteen, or fifteen, or twelve? Perhaps having children makes you forget being one.” Jules

Although Jules is speaking specifically about the unknowability of teenagers, I don’t think it’s something we ever grow out of. I think that, no matter how much you love a person, you can never truly know them, and so when something as awful as a suicide happens, you can never blame yourself, no matter how close you were to the person. They had that unknowability about them. Something that you couldn’t touch; that you couldn’t reach; that you couldn’t fix. No matter how much you loved them.

The Drowning Pool Hand

It’s a little bit of a scary read, but it’s a rewarding read. They didn’t all jump and they weren’t all pushed.

Rating: 4.5/5