Videogame Review: Dragon Age: The Veilguard

The long-awaited fourth installment of the Dragon Age series from Bioware—does it match up to the legacy?

You gotta have dragons, right? It's there, in the title.

What makes a Dragon Age game a Dragon Age game? Is it the mechanics? The plot? The worldbuilding? The characters? Something else entirely?

For me, it's the characters and their relationships, as well as the joy that comes from the branching web of plot decisions and ramifications, that show you a world in which your choices have meaningful consequences for the world, the people around you, and your relationships with those who inhabit it. It's what draws me in, makes me love all three (and a half?) previous iterations of the franchise, and had me so frothingly excited about this one I booked annual leave for launch day and the start of the week after so I could play more hours per day than is healthy for a person (it was great). It's what drives me to have logged around a thousand hours of play time across the series to date, and with no expectation that this number won't grow in the future.

Which isn't to say there aren't issues with each of the previous games, of course. And one of the interesting things about Veilguard is how evidently Bioware has put in the effort to resolve them this time. So I'll start my review there.

Charitably, I might describe the mechanics of Dragon Age: Origins as… clunky. Underdeveloped. More honestly—janky af. It's imperfectly attempting to recreate some of the D&D experience in a video game, and at a time when the tech was not exactly making the job an easy one. We—or at least I—forgive it because it makes up for it with excellent characters, some banger bits of dialogue, an introduction to an enjoyable fantasy world, plenty of lore to dig into, and some very interesting plot moments where the player has the opportunity to impact the direction the world and plot takes… if they do things right. But good lord is the actual gameplay a mess. Do not get me started on the inventory system.

Dragon Age 2 attempted so simplify and pare down a lot of that clunk (to reasonable success) and developed its skill trees into something actually functional. It was not exactly focussed on getting the player that involved in the nitty gritty of fighting, but it had some really cool, stylistic animations of your various characters giving the baddies what for, with occasional big dramatic moments that made your Hawke feel like a badass.

Dragon Age: Inquisition made the big jump into having you actually… doing the combat, rather than clicking to select the enemy and the skill you wanted to use on them. I actually had to get close enough and wave my sword right to hit the guy? Madness! Another marked improvement on the previous games, and with yet again a more developed, more interesting skill tree alongside it, where the choices you make in building what your companions can do feel like they actually have an impact on gameplay.

All the info you need is right at your fingertips on the tab screen in combat; it's easy to be fully involved in what's going on.

Veilguard then feels like the natural development of this thread—moving away from point-and-click D&D simulation into a fully bedded-in action game. I am choosing, moment by moment, what my character is doing and to whom and how. I block, I duck and roll, I parry, I shield. My involvement in the combat is down to me and my timing, my choices, and so feels… well, like I'm actually involved. And when you add in combos with your teammates—also very easy to achieve and clearly signalled in the combat screen—it just gets even better. There's a bit of a learning curve at the start as you get used to it, especially the timings for blocking, ducking and shielding, but the game does tutorial you in pretty well, and it is absolutely delightful the first time you manage to employ the perfect timing with a shield-block and are rewarded by absolutely twatting the opponent in the face. I am utterly, completely convinced that as a pure gameplay experience, Veilguard is hands down the best game in the series and just genuinely, actually fun to simply… play.

It also does a great job in differentiating the character classes by feel. My initial run was as a warrior, which felt suitably tanky, while still being able to dish out damage. Returning as a rogue, whose special attacks rely on the building of momentum (which is lost if you allow yourself to get hit) rather than a warrior's rage, changes how you react to combat. Suddenly, the dodge button is my best friend, rather than the parry. Then again into mage, where I can throw up a barrier and then go long range with staff attacks that really knock the enemy's socks off, but I'm constrained by my mana pool and refill rate. What we don't see is the full differentiation within the subclasses—Inquisition had you choose if you would be sword and shield vs two-hander warrior, for instance. What we get instead is the ability to switch between the two subclasses at any point, even in combat. For warriors, that's hitting X to pull out your two-hander. For mages, dotting between the two-handed staff and the ability to barrier, vs. orb and dagger which allows close combat, stabbing and parrying, at the cost of no shield. For rogues, there's no explicit switch-between at all—at any point, you can right-click and start shooting with your bow, while your default dual-wielding weapons remain in play for close combat. You can optimise your build for the subclass you find yourself most wanting to play, but the flexibility remains at the touch of a button. There's a learning curve to each class that comes with how truly distinct they feel, but once you get into the groove, each one does feel genuinely worthwhile—and enormously fun—to play.

However. As I said above, this is not why I play Dragon Age games. It's great, don't get me wrong, and I hope future installments keep and develop this, because it is extremely well done and satisfying. Moment by moment, there was none of the frustration because I just didn't have the control to win a fight I was involved in, or that combat was just feeling repetitive and dull. I applaud it. But… it's nothing more than a nice bonus to me. The meat of my interest was always going to be elsewhere, in the plot and the characters. Which is where I found things getting a little unstuck.

Which is weird, because a lot of the promo going into Veilguard talked about how they knew fans wanted character focus, so that was going to be where they put their efforts, and they visibly have done that. It just hasn't quite achieved what I, at least, want out of it. To boil it down to fundamentals, Veilguard just feels safe in a way that none of the others have. While the setting and story may be extremely dark, the characters and their interactions, both with each other and with Rook, the protagonist, just lack bite. I don't necessarily even mean conflict, though that could work too. There's just quite a sameness and a safeness to how they all interact, that ignores the vast range of positions and opinions on the core topics of the game that we've seen throughout the previous iterations.

Which also manages to deny the difficulty inherent in some of the factions at play within the story. One of the companions you recruit is a member of the Antivan Crows. This was, I know, something a lot of fans were hoping for, and harks back to Zevran in Origins. But the thing is, Zevran's story is one full of conflict—his position within the Crows is a fraught one, and one that has left lasting and unpleasant marks on him that he details in conversations with the Warden. The Crows are absolutely not an uncontroversial good, in that story, or his story. Which… of course they're not! They're a band of assassins for hire. They literally kill people for a job. Of course they're going to be morally complex at best.

So why then, in Veilguard, are they uncontroversial good guy patriots protecting Treviso, and we're just… not going to examine anything else about them, or about Lucanis (the companion from that faction)'s position within them?

Just some good ol' fashioned patriots, no murders here no sir.

What's extra strange is that we do get this introspection a little bit, but directed only at the Grey Wardens, who took a big hit on the "doing dark shenanigans" front in Inquisition, so that doesn't feel like treading new ground. But it means they were thinking about it, at least to an extent; they just never felt the need to turn that lens onto the Crows. Huh.

And it's that kind of lack of thoughtfulness that makes the game really suffer. Everyone gets along, more or less (I'm not saying there's zero conflict, because that patently isn't true, but it never rises to the levels we've seen in any of the previous games), and no one really critiques the position other people come from, or their background, or engages with any of the longstanding, baked-in societal difficulties that we've seen portrayed in the world so far. For a game that very much centres the elves, their stories and their histories, Veilguard is very light on talking about the impacts the events of the game will have on elves throughout Thedas. There are a couple of specific bits of dialogue (one of which you only get in the literal final mission) that touch on it, but it's not core to the story, when it really really should be to give us that feeling of a real, complex world that has been a key part of the series up to now. This is not a game that could encompass, for instance, a Vivienne or a Sera, two characters whose positions within their factions and peoples in Inquistion are fonts of discussion, argument and interest. There's no Merrill, with a complex view of blood magic that runs contrary to the dominant game view. There's no Alistair or Cullen to give us an insight into a Templar viewpoint. There's barely any Templar involvement at all. Without characters occupying fraught or complex positions, or a voice speaking from the other side of the divide, we end up with fairly unknown and unconsidered bad guys (why are the Venatori up to what they're up to? We never really get to know), and a coherence of vibe from the companions that feels a bit weird at times. Yes, we're all saving the world, but so were we in Origins, and that never stopped Morrigan from bullying Alistair, did it?

To add to this, on the one hand, we get way more party banter than in previous games, and they've added a device where, in the central home hub, you sometimes go into rooms and just find two companions chatting, which is great. And yet… for how long of a game this is, it feels like you don't get proportionally as much romance content as the previous games have given, which is one of the core USPs that Bioware have always had. We jest that it's a dating sim with a fantasy RPG in the background, but… well. Personally, I have always enjoyed the romance content because it adds yet another layer to those deep characterisations. It's part of making these people seem whole and real. And when that gets skimped on? It adds to the same feeling that their lack of bite feeds into.

In other gripes, the early game dialogue is rough, as frankly is the early game plot. You can see the shape of a slightly different game, one with some sort of prologue that has been skipped over now, and so they have to funnel new players quickly into the fun, main bit with enough info to get them invested, while also keeping hold of old players who know all the lore. They have not managed it well. But that evens out once you get into the main substance of things.

There are also times when the whole thing feels a little too linear, a bit too trammelled into the singular shape of the story they want to tell, without the semblance of broad-reaching options that the other games have managed to convey.

But… for all that… there are some moments, some choices, that really do hit and hit good. One of them came out of absolutely nowhere for me and left me fully shooketh, and remains one of the emotional highpoints of my playing experience. The game tells you early that the choices you will make matter, and on the whole, when those choices come up, they very much do. I would, of course, always love more of them, but I'm aware this is a sticking point for many games just in terms of hours of time and dollars of money that go into every branch they make. Where Veilguard does it, I think they do it right.

They also give us some really solid lore drops that are of a great deal of interest to anyone who's played the previous games and is into that sort of thing, things that make you go "OOHHHHHHH" about things previously hinted, or overturn things you thought you knew, sometimes in really fun ways. Unfortunately, there are issues with it as well, generally, more about what's missing than what we see. This is a story that really does centre a bunch of elven stuff, and I would have liked to see more of… well, literally anything else in the world. The chantry and chantry opinion and politics barely figure, even though we touch on a number of really quite important religious issues. For the die-hard elf fans, there is bounty. For the rest of us… a bit of famine. It also, in this elven-centricity, stumbles a little bit into… and here it is hard to critique without treading too close to spoilers… I suppose into the issue of wanting to make things too simple. Too many questions boil down to the same answer, where a multiplicity was one of the things that has long made this a world worth playing in.

Also, for all the people with deeply held opinions about the character creator, long hair and clipping? They got you covered. Like, so much. Also body sliders, which I am quite pleased to see.

I do also have to come back to the point that… it's just gorgeous. They've gone back to DA2-style "strong, coherent visual design" and it works, but expanded out further and with better graphics and more time spent on the game to back it up. I mean, look at this shot from Arlathan and tell me it's not pretty:

Or not enjoy how atmospheric and utterly committed to the bit the Necropolis is:

Or appreciate the atmosphere of a blighted wasteland, full of relics of the past:

So all in all… it's rather a mixed bag.

On the whole, I enjoyed playing it. I had a great time, moment to moment, dedicated some days to an intense amount of gaming, gasped, laughed and felt sad at various appropriate moments, and just generally got into the spirit of things. But there was, when I looked back across it all, and especially when I compared it with the games that had come before, some little spark missing that made it truly magical. What I keep coming back to, more than anything, is that there is no single moment in Veilguard that comes even mildly close to doing what In Your Heart Shall Burn did in Inquisition—i.e. permanently rewrite my brain chemistry and steamroller me on an emotional level. I will never recover from that quest, and I thank Bioware for it. Veilguard… just could never. For all the fixes, for all the improvements, for all the better mechanics, better systems, better graphics, better character creator, they have failed to fully preserve the spirit of the previous games, the thing that made me love them beyond sense and measure. And it's hard not to be sad about that, even when what I've got is still, objectively, a good game.

Nonetheless… I am currently working on both my second and third playthroughs, which is not nothing.

If you're a die-hard Dragon Age fan or a complete newbie, I still think Veilguard is a game worth playing, for all the things it has done well. I hope it succeeds, and I hope the studio can continue to make games set in Thedas, taking on all the improvements they've made here, but one day maybe recapturing that little special something that just hasn't quite made it through here.

The Math

Highlights: absolutely gorgeous graphics, genuinely enjoyable mechanics, lore drops that really dig into some of the background questions fans have been pondering for years.

Nerd Coefficient: 7/10.

POSTED BY: Roseanna Pendlebury, the humble servant of a very loud cat. @chloroformtea.bsky.social

Film Review: Moana 2

Sequelitis strikes back

The first shot of Moana 2 focuses on a hermit crab switching to a new shell. The metaphor is clear: you're about to watch a story about leaving your comfort zone and searching for a bigger home. After our heroine taught her people to sail again in her first movie, she now has to solve the reason for their isolation: a storm god, afraid of the heights humans can reach with cooperation, has sunk an island that served as meeting point for all the navigation routes. (How there can be an unskippable crossroads in open sea isn't addressed.) One of Moana's ancestors, a legendary leader, already tried to find the lost island and failed. If the scattered sea peoples don't reconnect, they'll die out in a few generations. Moana needs to gather a crew and her demigod friend Maui to raise the sunken island before…

Before what? What, exactly, is the threat here?

This is one of the most noticeable problems with the writing of Moana 2: an adventure story needs a sense of looming danger, and the one presented here unfolds on a scale of centuries. Moana could relax, train more sailors, recruit a bigger crew, and, you know, travel directly to the other islands instead of looking for a vanished one where nobody lives anyway. This artificial urgency may be an effect of translating into cinema what originally was intended to be a full season of TV. The first Moana movie had ticking-time-bomb stakes and a straightforward structure. This one shoves a massive, epic conflict between gods and mortals within a tight, crowded space.

Another of the consequences of turning a TV series into a movie is the loss of development for the supporting cast. Moana and Maui are joined by a shipbuilding engineer, a craftsman who records stories in woven cloth, and an old farmer whose unique contribution to the team is promised but not delivered. Whatever arcs they were going to have are reduced to learning to work together. These character concepts deserved more depth than they get.

While the animation effort was well spent in designing breathtaking landscapes and cool monsters, imagination seems to have been in short supply when it came to drawing people. Either that, or the shift to movie format reduced the available time for artists to devote the necessary care to each scene's emotional delivery. This movie is rated for kids, but you could play a drinking game for every time Moana makes this exact face:

To be fair, the plot makes valuable points about the civilizational dangers of isolationism and the advantages of intercultural competence. The character who weaves cloth can point the team to an important subquest thanks to an ability to read pictorial narratives. Moana realizes she's on the right track toward finding the other sea peoples because she unearthes a piece of ancient ceramic, which in the context of Pacific Islander culture, where most objects for everyday use are crafted from perishable plant materials, is a huge deal.

However, these achievements in storytelling get lost in the rhythm of events. Probably as another result of the change in format, this movie is left with a very strange pacing. The pivotal downer that ends the second act doesn't get enough time to breathe before it's overshadowed by a tonally dissonant song. A fascinating secondary antagonist gets a great costume and a banger song, but the hidden complexities of this character end up swept under the rug. In the climax scene, Maui suffers a major calamity that is almost immediately reversed. Moana 2 speeds through its beats as if ticking off a checklist, and the excitement that ought to linger after our heroine's daring adventures wears off as quickly as every other emotional moment in the story.

To complete the perfect storm against this movie, there's a live-action Moana planned for 2026, a convergence of Disney's frantic remake spree accelerating to an unsustainable pace and The Rock's meticulously curated self-mythologizing campaign reaching critical fission mass. The timing is inauspicious: the mid-credits scene of Moana 2 is an obvious tease for a sequel that may or may not matter under the shadow of the remake. I bet it's going to be hard for Disney to properly care for both projects at the same time, and it's conceivably going to be harder to do for viewers. The impression left by Moana 2 is that the studio didn't have a solid idea of what to do with it, and instead of committing to a TV series that could overlap with the remake, preferred to release it in one go just to get it over with.

Nerd Coefficient: 6/10.

POSTED BY: Arturo Serrano, multiclass Trekkie/Whovian/Moonie/Miraculer, accumulating experience points for still more obsessions.

Videogame Review: Dead Space Remake by Motive Games

So many limbs to sever, so little time

Sent on a mission to help repair the USG Ishimura’s communications breakdown, Isaac Clarke and the crew of the USG Kellion arrive just in time to discover that the Ishimura's comms are the least of their worries. Infested with monsters called necromorphs, the crew has their work cut out for them if they have any hope of repairing their ship and getting out alive.

I’m not one for horror games anymore, not that I ever was, but I would partake in them more frequently when I was younger. For me, Dead Space Remake was more of a nostalgia trip to the mid to late 2000s, when single-player games had fun interconnected-level design and unreliable protagonists (Bioshock anyone?). This remake does what a proper remake should do: it stays faithful to the original but builds on it in small ways and fixes some of its issues. It makes it feel like you remember it to be, a tough balancing act in the games industry. To preserve a game’s story is one thing, but to preserve the spirit of the entire project is another, and on that, EA Motive has done a superb job.

One of the most striking things that hits right away is the visuals. The lighting and reflections, the detail in Isaac’s suit, and the upgraded animations all contribute to something that feels like a high-quality product. But even more importantly (as mentioned before), it feels like Dead Space as I remember it. It was a quality product that launched, subsequently aged, and now feels brand new again. For all its gruesome, visceral violence, Dead Space Remake is a beautiful game that nails its sci-fi/horror aesthetic with aplomb. Dead Space is one of those games you remember for its atmosphere: the thrum of the engines, the vibrant large open rooms, and the small, dark, tight corridors. No detail was spared in the remake to ensure that old players and new alike will remember their time aboard the Ishimura.

But not all is the same, and this is a good thing. One of the biggest and best changes is a more vocal Isaac Clarke. This may not be a positive for some, but on the whole, I think it was a great change that enhanced the experience. Isaac has more personality now and contributes his expertise as an engineer. Instead of being guided like a puppet, he now comes up with solutions and reasonings for his actions. It brings a lot to the character, and by extension, the game itself. In addition, the weapons have all been rebalanced, and the flamethrower is a worthy weapon now. The mechanics are more in line with Dead Space 2’s superior gunplay. They also upgraded the de-limbing system, which adds not only extra detail but more strategy to gameplay.

When I mention the de-limbing system, I refer to the primary mode of dispatching enemies in Dead Space; removing limbs. Headshots hold no power here. In the original, simply shooting at a limb two or three times would make it come off. Now, certain weapons are better for cutting through flesh, and some for cutting through bone. You can see the enemy’s flesh disappear with each shot, eventually getting down to the bone (now it’s time to switch to the ripper). This is an extremely detailed addition that deserves praise. It’s advantageous to synergize your weapons loadout, especially on the harder difficulties (or just run around with the flamethrower). The rest of the weapons have been balanced and adjusted so that the combat feels great and the movement is smooth. I do wish there were a few extra additions that are staples in the genre, like a quick turn-around option and an over-the-shoulder switch. Their absence didn't hurt the experience, but they certainly would have enhanced it.

Speaking of combat, the weapons themselves are such a blast to use. One of the things I loved about the Bioshock and Ratchet & Clank series is their use of imaginary weaponry that you can upgrade over time. Dead Space turned the plasma cutter and its teal laser guides into an iconic weapon, and with good reason; it may be the first weapon you get, but it’s damn good. Its precision makes you feel like a surgeon as you sever necromorph limbs. But the plasma cutter is just the beginning. The ripper, the line gun, the force gun, and the contact beam are all useful mining tools-become-weapons that are inventive and enjoyable to use. The flamethrower and pulse rifle are a bit more basic, but their alternate fire abilities add extra strategic layers to more complex encounters. In combination with stasis (freezes enemies briefly) and kinesis (telekinetic module), combat is a blast.

Once in a while, one of the game's flaws would flare up, and while it doesn't deal directly with the combat itself, it impacts it. In larger open areas, lurkers (little baby-looking enemies) climb the walls and start shooting at you. This isn’t a problem in itself, but when the area is open and other enemies are assaulting you, this simply becomes an irritation. It doesn't add to the tension of the encounter. Any spitting enemies poorly placed make certain encounters feel cheap and unenjoyable. Luckily, those don't happen too frequently, but when they do, it’s noticeable. A frustration that did come up frequently was the kinesis’s inability to prioritize. When using kinesis, you can take items from the environment, as well as the enemy’s sharpened bones, and launch them. Sometimes kinesis picked up every other body part besides the weapon-worthy items, causing much frustration. A system should have been put in place to prioritize useful items before picking up useless garbage, especially in frantic situations.

One of the most important things about the original Dead Space remains here, in a way I wish it applied to more games. The in-game UI is smart, simple, and direct, crafting a more intimate experience as a byproduct. Everything the player needs to know is on Isaac. Sure, there is a menu for item and lore management, but when it comes to combat, there is no HUD on the corners of the screen: it’s all on Isaac’s person. The amount of ammo in your clip shows on the weapon. The amount of health remaining runs down Isaac’s vertebrae and his stasis stock is visible on his shoulder blade. You don't need to look at anything other than the character and the enemies. Since you’re looking at the character’s back the entire game, why not make it your HUD? Brilliant.

While Dead Space isn’t an open world, it does have an explorable ship that can be traversed more and more throughout the adventure, almost like a Metroidvania. This gives the player reason to go back and look around at things they missed. Luckily, the remake added more encounters to keep things fresh, even when returning to a previously explored area. That said, it would have been nice to have a fast travel option to go exactly where you want. The tram isn’t the worst thing in the world, but it isn't exciting or expedient.

What is a horror game without sound? The sound design here is part of what makes the game and its atmosphere have so much character. The whispering in the walls, the sound of necromorphs scurrying in the ceiling, the screech of the automatic water supply systems, the electrical currents running through the thrumming ship, and the sound of flesh tearing off necromorph corpses when you use kinesis to turn their sharp limbs against them all contribute to creating an immersive, tense environment throughout the entire game. The voice acting is great, and each character gives a solid performance. The audio logs are great; there’s nothing like listening to what transpired on the Ishimura, the experiments and religious insanity that brought the gigantic planet cracker to its knees. The music appropriately adds to the sense of tension and horror as well, though at times the music lingers longer than it should (same with Isaac’s heavy breathing). These are obvious bugs that are momentary immersion killers. Walking down a long, empty hallway while combat music played kept me on my toes for no reason. Overall, however, this isn’t extremely detrimental, though it was noticeable quite a few times.

One of the other issues I had with the game was a random jittery frame rate, sometimes when nothing taxing occurred. Random door opening? Frame rate drop. Walking down a hallway? Random frame drop. Thankfully, this never happened during crucial moments. I also experienced other minor bugs or glitches, like items randomly disappearing (I still think about that power node that disappeared on my impossible mode run). Another of my gripes deals with the game’s story. I won’t spoil it for those who haven't played, but the story cheats a bit to deliver one of the game's biggest moments. It’s a bit obvious that something is off, and while I love the unreliable protagonist, the delivery mechanism feels a bit cheap. That said, the story is still enjoyable. Who can hate everything going wrong all the time?

Going through the narrow halls of the Ishimura brought me back to one of my favorite eras of gaming. Dead Space Remake is a faithful iteration that builds on and adds to the original. For those who played the original Dead Space and loved it, this remake is worth the price of admission as it not only fixes much, but also adds an alternate ending for new game plus, and a more intense impossible mode (where you only get one save that deletes itself upon death!). For those who haven't played it, I ask you this: Do you like sci-fi? Horror? Fun weaponry? Interesting lore and story? Get Dead Space and support the developer. Maybe we’ll all be lucky and get blessed with a remake of Dead Space 2.

The Math

Objective Assessment: 8.5/10.

Bonus: +1 for smooth gameplay, +1 for beautifully detailed visuals, +1 for memorable atmosphere.

Penalties: −2 for bugs/frame rate drops, −1 for lack of fast travel.

Nerd Coefficient: 8.5/10.

Posted by: Joe DelFranco - Fiction writer and lover of most things video games. On most days you can find him writing at his favorite spot in the little state of Rhode Island.

Anime Review: Dandadan

Strange but addictive storytelling wrapped in stunning animation

Dandadan debuted with much hype and anticipation this year and has quickly become one of the most talked-about fall anime. With its addictive opening song and quirky, opposites-attract friendship vibe, Dandadan’s strange upbeat feel draws viewers in. But underneath is a strange tale of sexual assault, angry demons, and dysfunctional relationships. The show combines the vibrant, violent demon-fighting of Jujutsu Kaisen with the tortured, shapeshifting, slow-burn, romance/friendship (?) of Fruits Basket. In the end, it’s hard to know what to make of this anime debut. But, since it’s based on a manga, we know much more is yet to come.

Summary: Orphaned high schooler Momo is raised by her ghost-aware grandma. As a result, Momo has a deep awareness of the occult, although she tries to avoid it. She is also obsessed with movie star Ken Takakura. The first episode opens with Momo breaking up with her obnoxious, older boyfriend, whom she only dated because his tough guy attitude reminded her of her beloved movie star. Later, she intercepts a group of students tormenting a quiet, nerdy boy at school. She discovers that the boy’s name is also Ken Takakura. Momo and Ken become embroiled in a debate about the existence of aliens versus the existence of ghosts and agree to a dangerous bet. Momo sends Ken alone to a haunted area and Ken sends Momo alone to an abandoned hospital allegedly frequented by aliens. What could go wrong? It doesn’t take long before Momo gets kidnapped by aliens who take most of her clothes and threaten to assault her. Meanwhile, Ken gets a beatdown from a demon ghost who steals an essential sexual body part. The aliens’ attack on Momo releases her latent psychic abilities, and Ken’s demon possession leaves him with intense powers and, ultimately, an alter ego demon personality. Momo’s youthful grandmother helps the teens after they escape from both the aliens and the demon and then embark on a quest to get all of Ken’s body parts back. Eventually they connect with a popular girl, Aira, who, in a tragic episode, has her own supernatural experience and unlocking of power. From the opening sequence, we know there will be another person joining their crew.

I will admit I had mixed feelings about this anime despite the enthusiastic recommendations. The animation, character design, and music are all top notch and highly engaging. However, the plot, particularly of the opening episode, was problematic. A high school girl is dragged into a sexual assault situation by creepy alien men and the entire scene is played for laughs or at least flippantly. It was troubling and distasteful enough for me to want to stop watching. And the boy (also a minor) having his body parts stripped from him by an old woman was likewise distasteful. The other element that’s vaguely annoying is the constant potty humor. It’s meant to fit the farcical vibe, but ultimately feels distracting. There are many anime that deal with tough subjects or lean into low humor. Dandadan stands out in the way the disturbing content is merged into brightly colored, murderous teen angst.

Fortunately, the more you watch, the more the pieces fit together. It took a few episodes for me to realize the theme of sexual assault and violence against women was intentional. The demon who assaults Ken is nicknamed Turbo Granny. She is monstrous, hideous, violent, and vulgar. However, we later find out she was an assault victim, and she haunts areas where other girls were assaulted and murdered. The vibes are similar to Jujutsu Kaisen with its themes of sorrow leading to rage then leading to demon creation. In a later episode, we meet another victim whose unimaginable loss leads to a monstrous transformation. In that particular episode, the animation style changes, gradually becoming more realistic and dreamlike at times. Stunning moments like that make the show worth watching despite the juvenile hijinks happening elsewhere.

In addition to the quirky plot, Dandadan has two memorable protagonists. Momo is loud, bossy, and opinionated. She dominates the show with both personality and screen time. She refuses to call Ken by his real name, and instead gives him the nickname Okarun. Still, Ken is the more interesting character. Despite having strong opinions, he is insecure, soft-spoken, and passive, and he is the complete opposite of the tough guy movie star who shares his name. He has little backstory so far, and we don’t really see his parents or his home. However, when he becomes cursed, his demon form is powerful, cynical, and disinterested, while still being reluctantly heroic. The character design of Ken’s demon form is intense, and the animation is intriguing and addictive. And it brings a nice bit of irony to the story. I find myself feeling almost relieved when he finally transforms in each episode. Another intriguing character is Momo’s grandmother, who looks almost as young as Momo. She is gruff and cynical, and is obviously hiding a lot of information from the two protagonists. The story initially feels limited with the sole focus on Momo and Ken rather than a more traditional anime ensemble cast. However, the opening sequences foreshadow the others who will expand the story to more of a team adventure.

Dandadan is quirky, irreverent, and exhausting at times, but the core story provides a good payoff and the animation is stunning. If you can get past the strange plot elements and the weird combination of very adult and very juvenile content, Dandadan can be a good weekly fix of unique storytelling.

Nerd Coefficient: 7/10.

Highlights:

• Stunning animation
• Weird, flippant treatment of adult themes
• Quirky, innovative storytelling

POSTED BY: Ann Michelle Harris – Multitasking, fiction writing Trekkie currently dreaming of her next beach vacation.

Book Review: Interstellar Megachef by Lavanya Lakshminarayan

A frothy, funny and amusing SF novel... that has an undertone of far more serious and thoughtful ideas than you might well think.

Saraswati has a problem. Her cooking career on Earth has cratered and she’s desperate to get back in the game. Her answer: illegally immigrate to the planet Primus, the center of human culture and society in the galaxy and get on Interstellar Megachef, the premiere cooking show broadcast to multiple star systems. If she can win the competition, she will be poised to reclaim her position and show off her ability once and for all.

Things... do not go to plan.

Saraswati’s story is one of the two backbones of Interstellar Megachef by Lavanya Lakshminarayan.

The author hooks you in, with a book that looks and starts and has the outward appearance of a frothy and funny book. When I first heard about this book, saw the cover and started reading it, the book looked like it was going for Great British Bakeoff in space... or, to use genre comps, Catherynne Valente’s Space Opera meets Cat Rambo’s You Sexy Thing. Cooking... in spaaace, with a lot of fun and frivolity. A light read that I was going to devour with the relish of eating a dessert. 

The book has that, from the get go and throughout, don’t get me wrong. Saraswati’s arrival on the planet Primus and her efforts to get to the show are played up in high comedy. She has a cute digital intelligence companion. There’s a meet cute with a high powered executive (our second point of view character, Serenity Ko). Saraswati seems to be doing things all so well. She gets to the show, and starts cooking. 

And then the narrative, and even the book changes. It happens early so I am going to spoil it: she loses badly, and is the first chef eliminated, and it's not even close. Her practices (like cooking with fire, and with whole vegetables) are considered by the Primians to be barbaric, backward, dangerous and basically “primitive Earth human being Earth human”. Saraswati is devastated, but determined to not let it get her down. In the meantime, Serenity Ko’s latest venture in her space of virtual reality simulations has not gone very well either, and she has been given the equivalent of a two week sabbatical from work. She’s determined to get back in the game, too. We start with two main characters knocked down, but not out, in the first round.

And so while the rest of the novel shows how these two come back from their disasters and defeats (and wind up becoming reluctant and unexpected allies and partners), the novel keeps up the frivolity and fun, but starts seriously layering and bolstering the narrative and the worldbuilding with some serious thoughts about the nature of food. About cultural imperialism, dominance and where culture is from and what it is good for. About the roles and expectations of families, of society, of the power of found families. The author, while keeping the frivolity and tone often light and as easy to consume as a frothy glass of spiced eggnog, at the same time engages with some serious and important questions. She doesn’t even ask this only of the audience but the characters themselves, particularly our POV characters Saraswati and Serenity, face a lot of questions, confrontations and thoughts. It gives the whole book a whole deeper level that you would not expect if you just looked at the cover. (This is definitely a case of the cover being utterly deceptive). Don’t get me wrong, I had a lot of fun and reading pleasure diving into this story. But it was the thought provoking questions, both asked and unasked, and some of them not answered at all, that really brought the book home for me and to me. 

Lakshminarayan does this in a couple of ways. We learn things about Saraswati’s background that change and alter the narrative that we saw at the beginning. The author does it subtly at first, and then comes in with the “wham” of a spicy reveal or a turn in the plot and narrative that caused me to reassess what I’d learned about her so far. Saraswati’s history and background are far more complicated than we are led to expect at the beginning. So too, in a slightly lesser key, is Serenity Ko, whom we find has a background and a family tree that, when the reveal happens, is like the bloom of a flavor on one’s tongue that you didn’t notice before, and changes the entire meal in one bite. The gear shifts in going from subtle to unmistakable and back again are an excellent showcase of the author’s writing talents.

Next, the author raises these questions in the context of the narrative itself. Primus is the center of food and other human culture across the galaxy (Earth is a backwater in this day and age). Primians consider their culture, especially their approach to food, premiere and without reproach and supreme. And we get to learn, from both Serenity (as an insider who knows nothing about food but all about the history) and Saraswati (who knows food but not the cuisine of the planet) just what Primian food is all about, and why it is important to the culture of the planet. But it goes beyond just food, although food is the center. We get a whole view of Primian culture in general, human but different, evolved, changed. But it is in the reactions to that culture, and people’s considerations of their past, and their present, and the future of Primian cuisine... and culture that the author is asking some very pointed questions about our own society in the same vein. The lines are awfully easy to draw and we get a lot of food for thought, as it were, as the narrative unfolds. And there aren’t easy and pat answers, either, a real signifier as to the complexity of the narrative, and the situation on Primus... and our own modern day world as well.

Finally, the author brings this together with the culminating project that merges Saraswati and Serenity’s storylines. I don’t want to go into too much detail on this one, its an audacious idea that merges their talents. But it is an idea that brings up ethics and cultural questions, raised by other characters and also will be in the mind of the reader. It is a far cry from the light and frothy beginning at the start of the book, and the culmination of the project and ambition is left deliberately not clear and definitely ambiguous. The book is first in a series, and we left at sort of a stopping point but definitely in media res for the full narrative. I was left, though, with a lot of questions and thoughts about how I approach food, especially food from traditions not my own. In the delivering of a tasty and appealing work, Interstellar Megachef has unexpected, and very welcome, depth to it.

But let me say again, throughout and with all of this complexity, depth and richness of the SF narrative, the book is a pleasure and fun to read, not just in the beginning. There are moments of real tenderness, of high drama, and definitely of comedy. The novel is entertaining and a fantastic whirlwind of taste sensations throughout, and the sensory detail will make you hungry, even if little of this food is actually real. I tore through this book with the verve of me digging into a rich hot dish after a long day’s trek with photos, filling, sustaining and delicious. Interstellar Megachef is a fantastic work of speculative fiction and has, as I have thought about it after reading, firmly seated itself as one of my favorites of the year without question. 

--

The Math

Highlights:

• Fun and frothy tone and start develops into wonderful complexity of narrative and theme
• Rich and decadent worldbuilding that ties into characters, location, family and cultures
• Excellent and immersive writing that brings the flavor of the narrative to your palate.
• Does not finish off in a neat and single serving. 

Reference: Lakshminarayan, Lavanya, Interstellar Megachef, [Rebellion Publishing, 2024]

POSTED BY: Paul Weimer. Ubiquitous in Shadow, but I'm just this guy, you know? @princejvstin

Film Review: Wicked, Part 1

Real world social commentary wrapped in memorable show tunes and a classic, fantastical setting.

First came L. Frank Baum’s classic children’s book, The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, the story of Dorothy, a girl who gets blown from Kansas by a cyclone into the fantasy world of Oz. The book was made into the classic film, the Wizard of Oz starring Judy Garland as Dorothy. In Oz, Dorothy meets the beautiful witch Glinda who sends her to Wizard of Oz so that he can get her back to Kansas. In her quest to get home, she defeats the wicked witch of the West and forms friendships with three allies, the Scarecrow, the Tin Man, and the Cowardly Lion. However [spoiler alert] the wizard turns out to be a fraud with no magical powers and in an ironic twist, her companions who consider themselves to be defective and lacking, all turn out to be strong and capable despite their external deficits.

After The Wizard of Oz, came various musical versions of the story including, The Wiz, a primarily Black cast retelling of the story featuring R&B songs like When I Think of Home and Ease on Down the Road. The hit film version of The Wiz starred Diana Ross, Michael Jackson, Nipsey Russell, and other superstars. Later came the Gregory Maguire’s novel Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West. This time the story of Oz is told from the point of view of the story’s original villain, Elphaba. In this version, Elphaba is mistreated, well-meaning, exploited, framed, and ultimately understandably angry. She also has a fraught friendship with Glinda the good witch in the original version of the story.  The novel inspired the musical, Wicked, featuring a tragic hero, tortured friendships, and iconic songs that never quite leave your mind. The Tony winning Broadway musical is the inspiration for the 2024 feature film musical starring Cynthia Erivo and Ariana Grande as Elphaba and Glinda, respectively. After more than a century into existence, Oz has been through many interpretations.

What contemporary audiences often want is a complex character study. People are seldom just bad or good. They are the products of their experiences and they act based on the reality of their world view and their lived experiences. Wicked, Part 1, tells us the story of a child, Elphaba, who is unloved because of her skin color (green) and feared because of her strength (magic). Despite this she grows to be resilient with a mix of compassion and cynicism. While escorting her younger sister Nessarose (Marissa Bode) to the wizard school, Shiz University, Elphaba’s magic skills catch the eye of a professor (Michelle Yeoh), so Elphaba also ends up enrolling in Shiz to develop her powers in the hopes of one day meeting the magical Wizard, the powerful leader of the land who can grant any wish. Elphaba (Cynthia Erivo) is stuck rooming with the self-absorbed and intensely popular, Glinda (Ariana Grande) who is the opposite of Elphaba’s reticent, outcast vibe. The two initially dislike each other but over time they become friends after each offers the other an unexpected act of kindness. The arrival of the handsome and charismatic prince Fiyero (Jonathan Bailey) creates a love triangle with Glinda and Elphaba. Meanwhile Elphaba’s younger sister Nessarose is attracted to the Munchin student Boq (Ethan Slater) who is not-so-secretly in love with Glinda. But the main external conflict is the oppression and racism against the talking animals who have been part of society for ages. Elphaba discovers a plot to wrongfully imprison them, cut them off from their homes and employment, and take away their ability to speak. Her determination to speak out against the injustice puts her in conflict with those in power and strains her friendship with Glinda. The film is only part one of the musical so it ends with much of the conflict unresolved. However, the story ends on an inspiring note as Elphaba and Glinda struggle with their respective choices.

If you are familiar with the musical, none of this is new material. But, while the film manages to stay true to the stage show, it also brings startlingly sharp observations of current issues of racism, social oppression, and political manipulation. When Elphaba is stared at because she is green, Glinda expresses hope that they can solve her skin color problem. Elphaba irritatedly rebuffs the suggestion and a man in Glinda’s entourage defensively declares that “I don’t see color.” The fact that Elphaba is played by a Black actress, particularly makes the message resonate.

As the story progresses, Elphaba and Glinda uncover political intrigue involving the innocent talking animals as pawns. Later the talking goat history professor, Dr. Dillamond (voiced by Peter Dinklage) warns that “you ignore the past at your own peril.” When you see Wicked, you can easily talk for hours about the current societal references in the story. The film has sharp content and excellent acting from Cynthia Erivo as the determined Elphaba and Ariana Grande as the good-hearted, but hesitant to act, Glinda.

In addition to the unexpectedly thoughtful and timely plot, Wicked delivers exactly what audiences want in a musical: stunning sets, gorgeous dance numbers (and costumes), and iconic songs (Popular, One Short Day, and Defying Gravity) that will make you want to play the soundtrack then entire way home from the theater. Cynthia Erivo is perfect as Elphaba, playing the character in an understated but bitingly cynical way. Ariana Grande is adorable as an onscreen embodiment of Barbie from Barbie and Elle from Legally Blonde, as she moves from confident and self-absorbed to compassionate, conflicted, and ultimately overwhelmed. The film also has nods to Wednesday and Enid from the Netflix series Wednesday. The only real problem with this film is that it is Wicked, Part 1, which means that we only get through the first half of the story in this rendition. However, it is so well done and ends on such a high note (literally and figuratively) that this story of the rise of an unlikely hero ultimately feels satisfying.

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The Math

Nerd Coefficient: 8/10

Highlights:

• Sharp social commentary
• Stunning sets and performances
• Poignant, sing-a-long fun

POSTED BY: Ann Michelle Harris – Multitasking, fiction-writing Trekkie currently dreaming of her next beach vacation.

Book Review: The Dark Between the Trees, by Fiona Barnett

 No number of completed risk assessments can keep you safe.

Cover design by Dominic Forbes

As an academic myself, I love books about academics going on adventures, but for the same reason I’m also hyper-alert to misrepresentations about academia. My teeth itch every time a book blithely assumes that the bulk of our job responsibilities are teaching; that we have ‘summers off’ (hah!); that it’s a straightforward matter to get a ‘new job’ at ‘the local university’; that a normal age for a new professor is 25 (hah, try 40!); and that field trips are wild jaunts into the unknown (oh god, the paperwork!).

What The Dark Between The Trees manages to do is provide everything that any horror writer who's ever dabbled in the Ivory Tower could dream of – drama, danger, discovery, mystery, magic, beasts and witches and unholy mysteries that lie well beyond the reach of any scholarship or human comprehension – while also getting the nature of academia exactly right.

Dr Alice Christopher is a historian, who has always been fascinated by an event that took place in Moresby Wood during the English Civil War in 1643: the ambush and defeat of a troop of soldiers, of whom a third were killed and the rest fled into the woods. Only two came back out again, and only one survived after to tell a chilling tale of impossible landscapes and shadowy monsters. Now, after decades of trying to find funding to do a proper on-the-ground investigation of this location, Alice has finally secured a very small grant, sufficient to lead a very small research team on a very small trip to explore the spot. With her come her PhD student, Nuria, weeks away from submitting her thesis; two members from National Parks department, and a representative from the Ordinance Survey. That last is quite important because maps of Moresby Wood are hard to come by, and the two that do exist -- one from 1731 and another from 1966 – don’t agree with each other. (For the avoidance of doubt, this is foreshadowing.)

The narrative proceeds across the two timelines. Alongside Alice’s team, we get interspersed paragraphs following the troop of soldiers, starting with their desperate retreat into the woods. The events of the two groups parallel each other: They each camp under an enormous oak tree in a clearing; they each wake the next morning to discover that the tree is gone. They try to make their way out of the wood, and instead find that the geography is changeable. They tell stories about local legends associated with the woods: a family of charcoal burners who went in and never came out; a monster named the Corrigal, whose nest lies in the heart of the forest. Their unity becomes fractured, riven by doubts in the leadership – an internal stress exasperated by existing battle wounds (for the soldiers), or the failure of GPS equipment (for the researchers), and the terrible weather (for both). Then people start disappearing and dying mysteriously, perfectly fine one moment, and the next moment gone – or, worse, cut in two with no warning beyond a shimmer in the air. (I should mention – there is a lot of blood in this book.) 

Things progress from bad to worse, until eventually . . . well, let’s just say that a book with centuries-separated timelines and a creepy forest that seems not to worry about reality and sanity has options when it comes to allowing those timelines to interact. 

The plot and world-building (well, Forest-building) are largely vibes-based. The details of why Moresby Wood is so weird are never really clarified; the strangely veiled identity of those ambushing soldiers 1643 goes unrevealed; the eventual fate of many of the characters remains ambiguous; and the nature of the mysterious shimmer that slices people in half is left as an exercise for the reader. And yet, oddly, these narrative choices didn’t leave me unsatisfied. In the same way that trying to render something as incomprehensible as Moresby Wood compatible with a mere map only betrays a fundamental misunderstanding about its whole deal, trying to render something as misty and vibey as The Dark Between the Trees into a concrete set of events and actions also misses the point. It’s not that kind of book. Read it for the experience, not for the story.

But also, read it for the pitch-perfect rendition of UK academic research. This level of accuracy  can only come from someone who has been there. Take, for example, the PhD student Nuria. Her second supervisor is an academic nemesis of Alice’s, which means that any time Nuria disagrees with Alice, her opposition is seen in the light of a larger feud that really has nothing to do with her. (This type of thing absolutely happen: A PhD student in my programme had to avoid taking certain classes to satisfy her coursework requirements because they were taught by her supervisor’s extremely toxic ex-spouse, both of whom, bafflingly, still remained members of the same department.) Or take the other three members of the team, who represent non-academic ‘stakeholder’ project partners: yes, the involvement of the Ordinance Survey works well to support the plot point about disagreeing maps, but it also reflects a growing pressure in UK academia to demonstrate ‘impact’, or a demonstrable benefit or change that one’s research can effect outside the university context. I can just imagine Alice writing her ‘Impact and Knowledge Exchange’ section of the grant bid now: In partnership with the Ordinance Survey, this project will prove vital to supporting the badly-needed modernisation of existing maps of the Moresby Wood area. Currently, the most recent map is half a century old, and ...

And then, of course, there are the risk assessments. Because, as every University insurance administrator knows, if you’ve filled out the risk assessment, then nothing bad will happen! I can only hope my next research trip does not bring me near Fiona Barnett, because somehow I doubt the University of Glasgow’s SafeZone App is going to prove sufficient to protect me from her vision.

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Highlights

Nerd coefficient: 7/10, an enjoyable experience, but not without its flaws

Highlights:

• Vibey vibes

• Unfathomably scary Woods

• Historical mysteries that do not illuminate the present

• Pitch perfect academics

Reference: Barnett, Fiona, The Dark Between the Trees, [Solaris 2022].

CLARA COHEN lives in Scotland in a creaky old building with pipes for gas lighting still lurking under her floorboards. She is an experimental linguist by profession, and calligrapher and Islamic geometric artist by vocation. During figure skating season she does blather on a bit about figure skating. She is on Mastodon at wandering.shop/@ergative, and on Bluesky at https://bsky.app/profile/ergative-abs.bsky.social 

Film Review: Gladiator 2

Long, messy, violent, and exceedingly silly, Gladiator 2 is a still an entertaining sword-and-sandals epic. 

Has anyone checked in on Ridley Scott lately? The man is 86 years old, and to quote the musical Hamilton, "Why are you [directing] like you're running out of time?". Fresh off of last year's bloated and deeply strange Napoleon, Scott's Gladiator 2 asks the question, what if we remade the original but added CGI monkeys and turned the acting quality down by about 50%? 

Before we dive in, remember that the original Gladiator won FIVE Academy Awards in 2001, including Best Picture, Best Director, Best Actor (Russell Crowe), and Best Supporting Actor (Joaquin Phoenix). The movie had a chokehold on the American public, which I think may be attributable to the brief love affair we also had with Russell Crowe, who from 1999 to 2001 received three consecutive Academy Award nominations. 

First, a brief and fascinating detour into how we got this sequel

Soon after the success of Gladiator, plans were quickly made to start drafting a follow-up script. Ideas changed hands several times until Nick Cave — yes, that Nick Cave — was commissioned to draft one. It involved Maximus leaving purgatory and being sent back in time by the Roman gods to kill Jesus Christ and prevent the inevitable spread of Christianity. Maximus then gets cursed to live forever and fights in major battles for the next 2,000 years, which is essentially just a rip-off of the Casca: Eternal Mercenary series of novels by Barry Sadler. 

Surprising no one, this Cave script didn't go anywhere (Stephen Spielberg actually put the final kibosh on it!) and the idea of sequel dwindled for a decade until Scott revisited the idea and finally settled on David Scarpa, who he worked with on Napoleon, to write script for Gladiator 2. 

Wait wait, I also have to talk about Ridley Scott for a second

Scott is perhaps the only director I can think of who, for nearly 50 years, has made countless successful films with no overarching directorial signature. Wes Anderson, Hitchcock, Tarantino, De Palma, Burton — odds are you can name some recurring themes or styles in their oeuvres. This holds true even if you're not a real fan! That's how indelible directing style can be. 

Meanwhile, Scott is over here bouncing around from Alien to Thelma and Louise to GI Jane to Gladiator to the Martian to House of Gucci. The only thing I can think of is that the man is dedicated to creating compelling stories on-screen. His movies are very likable, for lack of a better word. They're also compulsively watchable. In his old age, Scott's also gotten very, very good at pure spectacle. Even though Napoleon is a bit of a slog, the sheer scope of the battle scenes alone are worth watching. 

Okay, on to the plot as best I understand it

Maximus is dead, to begin with. But it turns out Lucius, Lucilla's son (Lucilla is also the daughter of the former emperor Marcus Aurelius and was the sister of Commodus), is actually the son of Maximus. After the events of the first film, she sends young Lucius off to what appears to be Egypt for safe keeping. But even that's not safe, so he eventually flees to another part of northern Africa and lives as a simple farmer/warrior, taking the alias Hanno. 

Rome eventually comes calling, however, in the form of an army commanded by Acacius (Pedro Pascal). During the battle, Lucius's wife is killed. This is meant to evoke the same sort of gravitas as Maximus' entire family dying, but it just doesn't hit the same, though he swears vengeance on all of Rome and General Acacius in particular.

Lucius is taken as prisoner, and ends up fighting before the slaver/gladiator trader/plotter Acrinus, who promises Lucius the head of Acacius if he keeps fighting for him in the Colosseum.

Meanwhile, there are two evil twin-emperors of Rome, Geta and Caracalla. Hanno/Lucius fights his way through many battles in the Colosseum, including baboons, rhinos, sharks, and the Preatorian guard. His mom, Lucilla, realizes who he is. Also her boyfriend is Acacius, and turns out he's a actually good guy who hates what Rome has become and is planning to overthrow the twins. He gets caught and captured, however. Lucius discovers this and takes up his mantle and organizes the Roman troops upon the eventual death of the twins. 

You know what, none of this makes sense as I write it down. It's too complicated, and for no good reason. You had to be there. The gist: a man is angry and he has lots of fights. Lucius is actually the secret son of Maximus and Lucilla (which is odd considering how much Maximus tells us he loves his wife and OTHER son in the first movie). There are weird, debauched, and scheming politicians in Rome. A monkey gets named Consul. There's sharks in the Colosseum. Paul Mescal has incredible thigh muscles. That's all you really know to know.

The things that work

Now's a good time to remind you that, despite its flaws, I had a blast while watching this — it's entertaining, gruesome, sprawling, and visually stunning. Seeing vast legions spread out upon the plains outside of Rome was incredible. 

But is this movie at all accurate to Roman history? Of course not! I like to think of it as historical fantasy. You take bits of inspiration from the past — many of these characters existed, it's true — and then just say, "fuck, it we ball!" It's a fun world to visit if you can get past the glaring anachronisms in every other scene.

The standout performances are Denzel Washington (he steals every scene he's in, and his acting is so sublimely natural and devious that it's almost awe-inspiring to watch) and Joseph Quinn (he matches Joaquin Phoenix's demented emperor vibe to a T). They are unhinged, wild, and perfectly cast. 

The opening naval battle/attack scene is breathtaking, and you really feel the deplorable might of Rome's imperial ambitions. Every fight scene, in fact, is superbly choreographed, and the foley editor really put in overtime on this one. It's a loud, crunchy, bone-crushing, blood-spurty feast for the ears.

The things that don't

Guys, I just don't like Paul Mescal. He doesn't have the charisma or charm to pull off main character energy for a role like this. Also, his character spends half of the movie resisting Rome and rejecting his heritage, then in one single scene he reconciles with his mother to reclaim his birth right. This, in my opinion, is harder to believe than sharks in the Colosseum (I say this in my head in the same cadence as the "they did surgery on a grape" meme).

And while I do love Pedro Pascal, he is stiff in his performance of General Acacius. I was, frankly, shocked by this. He's usually a great actor, but I suppose wooden dialogue like "No...more...war" doesn't exactly give him much to work with.

Finally, there are CGI baboons in Gladiator 2 that look like something out of the Hercules TV show from the 90s. I'm guessing they blew most of the budget on eye makeup and 10,000 cloaks.

Final verdict

It's a fun romp in the theater, but it's not a serious movie by any means. I will probably watch it again for the sheer epic-ness of it.

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The Math

Baseline Score: 6/10

Bonuses: Denzel Washington puts on a hell of a performance, and is pure gold. Joseph Quinn as the evil Emperor Geta impresses. Production design, as per usual, is breathtaking, and the Scott manages to capture a new look at the breadth and scope of Ancient Rome.

POSTED BY: Haley Zapal, new NoaF contributor and lawyer-turned-copywriter living in Atlanta, Georgia. A co-host of Hugo Award-winning podcast Hugo, Girl!, she posts on Instagram as @cestlahaley. She loves nautical fiction, growing corn and giving them pun names like Timothee Chalamaize, and thinking about fried chicken.