Geis/ Curse of the Chosen - Graphic Novel Series Review

Have you ever picked up a book that immediately pulls you into a world both familiar and utterly unique? Alexis Deacon's Geis: A Matter of Life and Death, Geis: A Game Without Rules and Curse of the Chosen: The Will That Shapes the World, a three part graphic novel series (that confusedly changes its name after 2 books) is precisely that kind of experience.

The narrative is an incredibly compelling premise wrapped within a masterful blend of supernatural fantasy, action and ancient folklore; When a great chief matriarch dies without an heir, a grand contest is decreed to determine her successor. Fifty hopefuls, ranging from powerful lords to unassuming commoners, are summoned. However, what begins as a seemingly straightforward challenge quickly twists into something far more sinister in a Running Man style Battle Royale. A 'geis' for those unfamiliar with this concept (like I was) is a Gaelic curse, a taboo that, once broken, leads to dire and often fatal consequences. The competitors find themselves bound by this unbreakable curse, forced into a series of brutal trials where failure means death, and even survival comes at a steep price.

This high-stakes setup keeps the reader on the edge of their seat, as the story seamlessly shifts between intense action sequences and moments of profound suspense and the ink and brush artwork demands your attention.

Deacon brings a distinct and captivating style to this graphic novel. His painted illustrations, often featuring a soft, almost dreamlike pastel palette, imbue every panel with a unique glow. Yet, beneath this gentle aesthetic lies a meticulous ink line that grounds the fantastical elements, depicting environments and characters with both precision and fluidity. Whether it's a sweeping landscape of mountains and castles or an intimate moment conveying raw emotion, Deacon's art is consistently stunning, setting a mood that is at once mysterious, sinister, and utterly riveting. It's a visual feast that truly elevates the storytelling.

Deacon masterfully handles a large ensemble cast, ensuring that each character, even minor ones, feels distinct and contributes to the unfolding drama. While many are introduced, the focus narrows to a handful, allowing for deeper exploration of their motivations and struggles. Characters like the reluctant but clever young girl Io and conflicted Nemas, emerge as central figures, driving the narrative forward.

Beyond the thrilling plot, Geis delves into thought-provoking themes as it explores the nature of power, survival and the choices individuals make when faced with their own inescapable fate. There's a fascinating philosophical undercurrent to the 'geis' itself, a paradox that binds characters to their doom even as they are compelled to act.

Geis is far more than just a fantasy adventure; it's a deeply engrossing experience that resonates long after you've turned the final page. Its unique artistic vision, coupled with a gripping story and compelling characters, makes it a standout in the graphic novel landscape. If you're looking for a graphic novel that is both visually breathtaking and narratively rich, do yourself a favor and pick up Geis and you won't be disappointed.

LINK- ‘Natives: Race and Class in the Ruins of Empire’

LINK- On And On And Colston ( Or, How We Kinda Sort of Learned to Talk About the Legacy of Colonialism and the British Empire)

LINK: Let’s All Create a ‘New Normal’.

LINK- Ms Marvel Can Change the World

LINK- The Rise of Retro Gaming During Covid

LINK- Blood, Sweat and Pixels- Book Review

LINK- The Offworld Collection- Book Review

LINK: Japan: My Journey to the East

The Crisis of Connectivity (Or, How Globalisation, Hyper-Events, and Misdirected Nostalgia are Ruining the Public Discourse)

We are living in the age of the hyper-event, and it has fundamentally broken our experience of reality. This isn’t just about bad things happening; it’s about the non-stop, globally streamed cascade of crises - from climate breakdown and extreme nationalism to a live-streamed genocide - that instantly dominates every news feed and social media timeline. The constant, hyperconnected transmission of these events has created a state of communal anxiety as the sheer volume of information has become an overwhelming burden on much of our collective psyche.

The Malignancy of Misinformation

In this pressurized, frantic environment, the space for a calm, nuanced response has somewhat evaporated. Misinformation, the oxygen of demagoguery, thrives here because it appeals directly to anger and raw emotion. It simplifies complex geopolitical and economic failures into easily digestible, emotionally satisfying narratives of blame or "pwning." Everything becomes a battleground, regardless of necessity. But how do we deal with this evergrowing wave? Well, we can’t just stop at surface-level fact-checking but there needs to be a fundamental overhaul of our civic literacy and critical thinking skills, demanding a thorough examination of our education systems, the structures of our media, and the very language we use to frame public issues.

True intellectual integrity - the search for truthfulness through honesty, fairness in your thinking, reasoning and expression,—requires relentless scrutiny, self-examination and empathy. This is something the BBC and other purportedly truthful news outlets should have done over the past couple of years in their coverage of certain events.

The Erasure of the Digital Village

The paradox of this hyperconnected world is that the cultural and technological globalisation that gives us instant information also acts as a powerful agent of cultural erasure. Our world has become a digital village, but this global embrace is driven by the relentless pursuit of corporate revenue - the "Moloch Trap" of modern capitalism - which often leads to the destruction of local identity by a race to the bottom where everyone loses by trying to win. This global force is frequently synonymous with Americanised cultural capitalism. As our choices trend toward ubiquitous, globalised brands - McDonald's, Starbucks, Nvidia, Amazon - we are unintentionally starving the homegrown alternatives that once defined local distinctiveness. This is a subtle yet relentless form of colonisation, where cultural borders aren't invaded by armies, but commercially and technologically hollowed out.

Hauntology and Misdirected Blame

This economic and cultural homogenisation creates a deep, unsettling social void: a sense of loss for something authentic and distinct. This feeling is hauntology: the pervasive sense of a lost future, a ghostly presence of a potential that never materialized, manifests as a profound, directionless nostalgia. The rise of extreme nationalism and associated street unrest in the UK and elsewhere is a symptom of this deep cultural wound. Here, in England, many people feel the loss of something "English" and, in their frustration, seek an identifiable culprit to blame for this lost potential.

Tragically, this anger is almost always misdirected. The target isn't the technological and cultural Americanisation that eroded local distinctiveness or the techno-feudalist fiefdoms but it’s the visible "other" - the person of colour, the immigrant - who represents change without being the structural cause of the loss. Many extremists are blaming diversity for the cultural vacuum created by global finance and unchecked consumerism. They forget that Britain was, and still is for many, (although milage may vary due to the past couple of decades of these right showers in politics) respected across the world as a beacon of opportunity, equality, and fair play, which is precisely why many from the old colonies sought to come (and were, in fact invited) to the "Motherland".

Moving Forwards

To heal this profound societal fracture, we must shift our focus from identity to introspection. We must look at ourselves as a nation—our political choices, our economic priorities, and our cultural consumption—and accept that the loss of a distinct culture is a consequence of our own uncritical embrace of global capitalism, not the fault of our neighbors. Only by demanding a renewed sense of responsibility from both our leaders and ourselves can we hope to define a twenty-first-century identity that embraces the modern world without sacrificing the joy and distinctiveness of the local.

The Power of the Written Word and Catering for the Niche

The Google SEO algorithm is being effectively gamed, and this hyper-focused race for the sacred "first page" is ultimately unsustainable. It's creating a swamp of weirdly skewed content, focused only on metrics and clicks, not meaning. As more time is invested in this pursuit, the actual value of what is written diminishes.

This is why the economy of language and the deliberate editorial choices in print media feels like a relief. While content is certainly king, these necessary and intentional selections of what not to include preclude the exhausting, algorithm-driven search for that viral unicorn.

As more sites chase this SEO bait, we lose the core human compulsion to narrate—to view the world as a collection of stories. What remains online are isolated islands of keyword-stuffed articles and clickbait designed purely to extract data and attention.

Fortunately, we are witnessing a resurgence in niche publications, specialized books, and dedicated articles—content an audience will pay for because they deeply value the substance or the authentic voice of the person writing it. I consider myself a ‘Digital Colonial’, belonging to the generation that existed before the internet became an omnipresent monolith. We had to actively seek out our interests, which fostered a strong, sometimes tribal, sense of identity linked to subcultures, be it grunge kid, manga fan, or bookworm.

For us, cultivating a niche interest is deeply comforting. It allows a sustained focus, a temporary refuge from the tidal wave of options the algorithm constantly pushes. This deliberate limitation is the antidote to the debilitating choice paralysis that occurs when there are simply too many roads to take.

For my part, I choose to write what I want to write, utterly unconcerned with SEO, traffic numbers, or transient digital metrics. I frequently decline collaborations—unless I actively use and believe in the product or service—because life is simply too short to be beholden to anyone for clout or a slight boost in views. I will continue to chug along, offering my pop culture ramblings and occasional long-form essays, until the impulse fades. Until then, I invite readers to savor the quiet comfort of the niche.

LINK: For the Niche of Videogames Magazines

LINK: Japan: My Journey to the East

LINK: Summer, Fireworks, and My Body

LINK: A Nightmare on Elm Street Boxset - Cult Movie Review

LINK: The Power of Stories and How They Are Manipulated

LINK: The Message by Ta-Nahisi Coates - Book Review (and Some Thoughts)

LINK: The Anxious Generation: Book Review (and Some Thoughts)

LINK: Utopia for Realists- Book Review

LINK: Toxic: Women, Fame and the Noughties- Book Review (and Some Thoughts)

A Chinese Ghost Story: The Animated Film - Cult Film Review

Back in the early 90s, Hong Kong cinema (as well as much of world cinema) was still quite niche, cult and difficult to find in England. You'd get the occasional Bruce Lee movie on television and that was about it. I knew Bruce Lee through Enter the Dragon but that was it, my knowledge of the wider genre was very slim. That changed as Channel 4 (and later cable channels) started to show anime, manga and Asian Cinema more frequently and when Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon became a worldwide smash the floodgates opened. I may be misremembering but I think I was introduced to this genre through Channel 4 or by a close friend who was a huge Jackie Chan fan before he became a 'name' in the West with the success of Rush Hour. However, by whatever means, A Chinese Ghost Story was one of the first HK films I saw and I fell in love with it, purchasing the Hong Kong Legends DVD for the then princely sum of £20 years later (that’s in the early 00s mind you so that’s mega expensive!)

Later I would realise that, whilst incredibly beautifully shot with sumptuous costumes and detailed sets, the film was a sum of the genre parts rather than a truly innovative picture. Another earlier Tsui Hark picture, Zu: Warriors of the Mountain (which I also purchased later, again by HKL) did a lot of what is shown Hark's oeuvre and the Wuxia genre, however, at the time I didn't mind as I didn't know any better. Even now, the tale of a lowly, down on his luck tax collector falling in love with a spirit and trying to save her cursed soul still captivates me.

Released in 1997, A Chinese Ghost Story: The Animated Film was something I sought after seeing it mentioned in Manga Mania but I never found it... until now, where it came up serendipitously in my YouTube feed.

Under the direction of Tsui Hark, who also produced the original films, this animated film ventured into new territory, aiming to translate ethereal romance and supernatural action into a fresh medium. So, did Hark succeed in this endeavour?

The narrative mirrors its live-action predecessor, following Ning, a young and somewhat naive tax collector and scholar, who is heartbroken and adrift in ancient China. However, his spirits are lifted by an encounter with Siu Lan, an ethereal beauty with whom he instantly falls in love. The significant complication, however, is that Siu Lan is a soul stealing ghost. Their blossoming romance quickly finds itself at odds with the formidable supernatural powers that govern their world. Ning's unwavering devotion forces him to confront a gauntlet of challenges, from undead beasts and mad exorcists to powerful chi blasts and even spectral trains. Despite these perilous obstacles, his determination to fight for his one last chance at happiness forms the emotional core of the film.

I really enjoyed my time with the film as it is an ambitious fusion of animation techniques. It is a testament to the artistry of fluid, hand-drawn animation. This traditional approach masterfully captures expressive character designs and creates dynamic action sequences, imbuing them with a timeless cel-animated charm. Characters move with a grace and exaggerated flair difficult to achieve in live-action, allowing for more fantastical and emotionally charged performances. Complementing this, meticulously detailed backgrounds depicting misty forests, ancient temples, and bustling marketplaces are rendered with impressive depth, often evoking the beauty of traditional Chinese painting. However, the film also serves as a fascinating snapshot of animation in the late 1990s, venturing into the then-nascent realm of GCI and live film, a real mixed media prodution of you will. The integration of CGI is arguably the most experimental aspect, and at times, the least seamless. While employed effectively to depict certain magical effects, spirits, and elaborate transformations, the early 3D animation occasionally contrasts sharply with the more organic hand-drawn elements. This visual disconnect can momentarily pull the viewer from the immersive experience, a common challenge for films of this era that pushed the boundaries of new technologies. While some CGI elements hold up better than others, they are undeniably a product of their time. However, despite these experimental quirks, the film largely succeeds in delivering a beautifully animated and engaging narrative.

The story admirably retains the melancholic romance and tragic undertones that defined the original live-action trilogy, while adapting the action for the animated medium, allowing for more exaggerated and visually creative battles against various demons and spirits. The voice acting, which I experienced as an English dub, breathes life into the characters, and the score effectively underscores the film's emotional beats and supernatural tension.

In conclusion, A Chinese Ghost Story: The Animated Film is a captivating curio in the history of animated cinema, especially for aficionados of Asian animation. Its unwavering commitment to traditional hand-drawn techniques remains its greatest strength, delivering vibrant characters and dynamic action sequences. While its pioneering use of CGI and live-action elements can at times feel dated or disruptive, they also serve as a valuable testament to the era's innovative and exploratory spirit.

So, for those keen to witness a beloved tale retold with creative ambition and a truly unique visual approach, this animated feature is well worth a watch.

Crossing the Line for Classic Gaming (My Repro Carts Confession)

For many of us who grew up with a controller in our hands, the world of retro gaming holds a special, nostalgic charm. But what happens when that charm is locked behind language barriers, unreleased titles, ridiculous scalped pricing or obsolete hardware? This is the dilemma that led me down the path of buying knockoff reproduction cartridges, a decision I'm ready to discuss, if not entirely condone.

My most recent acquisition, and perhaps the one that truly highlights my predicament, is a repro cartridge of the Game Boy game The Frog For Whom the Bell Tolls. This title has been my personal white whale for years. Despite sharing a strikingly similar style to the beloved Zelda: Link's Awakening, it was never officially released in English.

I've yearned to experience this game, patiently waiting for an official localization that never materialized. Then, a recent discussion on Retronauts reignited my desire, and I finally decided to bite the bullet and get a knockoff cart.

Now, let me be clear: I'm not advocating for the rampant production or sale of pirated goods. However, when a game has been out for over 25 years, with no official English release – physically or digitally – what's a dedicated gamer to do? The alternative is to simply never play it, and that feels like a loss for both the gamer and, in a way, the game itself.

This isn't an isolated incident either. I recently picked up repro carts of Mother 1, 2 and 3 for the Game Boy Advance. Again, my reasoning was simple: these titles are either completely unavailable in English or, where they are available digitally (like Mother on the Wii U), it was on hardware I'm unlikely to pull out of the loft anytime soon or on a digital storefront that is now closed.

As someone who has witnessed the evolution of the gaming industry firsthand, from motherboards to cartridges to cassettes to cartridges to CDs to digital downloads and streaming, the current landscape of game preservation and accessibility is a source of both wonder and frustration. We now have a multitude of means and methods to release videogames, from emulators to digital storefronts. Given these advancements, any form of gatekeeping, especially for titles that have been out of print for decades, truly grates on me; there are punters williing to pay for these items and acquire them by legal means, allow people to do that!

There's clearly a market for these classic retro games, especially if they were made readily available and, crucially, in English. Imagine the joy of legitimate, accessible digital releases for these long-lost gems. Until then, however, for those of us who simply want to experience these pieces of gaming history, the murky world of reproduction cartridges sometimes feels like the only viable option. It's a compromise, for sure, but one born out of a deep love for the games themselves.

LINK- Looking Back at the Switch

LINK- The Rise of Retro Gaming During Covid

LINK- Japan: My Journey to the East

LINK- Pure Invention: How Japan's Pop Culture Conquered the World- Book Review (and Personal Reflections)

LINK- Blood, Sweat and Pixels- Book Review

LINK- Utopia for Realists- Book Review

LINK- On And On And Colston ( Or, How We Kinda Sort of Learned to Talk About the Legacy of Colonialism and the British Empire)

LINK- ‘Natives: Race and Class in the Ruins of Empire’

LINK- Elden Ring- Videogames As Art

Shadow Star Narutaru- Cult Manga Review

I knew of Shadow Star as the series ran for a while in Manga Mania back in the late 90s. I liked it's naive, laidback art style that looked different from the other, more stereotypical stuff that we wee getting. Manga-ka Mohiro Kitoh's art and storytelling belies the dark heart of the story underneath. The story was never complete in Manga Mania and, even though I bought the 7 graphic novels, the rest of the series was never released in the UK so I never got closure. Finally, after nearly 30 years, I got access to the 13 part the anime series and had a chance to see if it was as graphic, dark and violent as I remembered.

With the cheerful opening credits I second guessed myself thinking I was misremembering the series. The jaunty theme tune, the colourful paper cut art style and cute characters made it look more like a slice of life comedy series in the vein of Hamtaro or Shin Crayon rather than what we have here.

The first episode starts of cheerful enough as Shiina, a young tween sent to holiday with her Grandparents near the coast, finds a strange star-shaped creature in the sea next to a torii gate. She bonds with it as it flies her all around the coast. She names it Hoshimaru and takes it back home with her, keeping it a secret from her father. Great, a buddy story of two new friends from different world, a modern day ET you might think... but no, by episode 2 the darkness of the series is revealed and it gets progressively beaker, violent and misanthropic. There are several of these alien beings and they all have owners who are bonded with them, the problem is that a few of the teenage keepers of the 'Children of the Dragon' ETs are maniacs who want a Khymer Rouge style Year Zero where there is a genocide of the educated elite to allow for a 'peaceful and strong society  that lives off the land'.

Shiina and her friend Akira want to fight back but there are a group of teens who are more bonded with their dragons and in their mind might is right.

Over the course of 13 episodes we have an ongoing battle between Shiina, Akira and Horoko and the Japanese Airforce against  those with evil intent. However, along the way we deal with real big issues such as self-harm, neglect, emotional abuse, mental health,.... it's all pretty heady and heavy stuff and you'd like for it to be handled well but the show is tonally everywhere. It's light and breezy one moment and in the next minute very bleak.

The art style in Shadow Star will not appeal to everyone but I quite like that it is quiet distinctive in the manga space. The characters are all gangly arms and legs but I suppose to convey tween and early teens that'd be accurate. Shiina is a bit of a tomboy so her supposed gracelessness, which her career-driven mum criticises her about in episode 3, is understood to be a trait we can get behind as she is our plucky heroine. Shiina is very endearing and a sympathetic character as she wants to help and do the right thing. The character design of the other people is pretty forgettable, including the dragon children who all look a bit uninspired.

The series asks a lot of questions and is intriguing but the motivation of the evil cabal of teens here is not clear. I get the world is not great so the whole 'let's start afresh' seems like a bold idea... until you take into account the hundreds of millions of people you would need to kill in order to possibly achieve this. These youths don't come across as sympathetic or idealistic, more psychopathic with Stalin's attitude of 'You can't make an omelette without breaking a few eggs'.

It's a shame the series ends where it does as there is definitely something here. Sure, there's a dark heart here but the story of power corrupting youth and lack of impulse control is one we can all understand both in real life and through literary examples like Lord of the Flies. Sure, Shadow Star Narutaru isn't the finest work of anime or manga but I enjoyed the story that was presented. I need closure but I suppose with no chance of a second series being commissioned it'll be a case of finding English translations of graphic novels volume 8 to 12 to get that. Oh well!

Videogames as Empathy Engines: 13 Games With Something Profound to Say

Videogames are a phenomenal medium, capable of transporting us to fantastic realms and engaging our minds in ways we might not otherwise experience. Yet, some games have a unique ability to forge a profound emotional connection, leaving a lasting impact long after the screen goes dark. They don't just entertain us; they cultivate empathy and introspection, acting as a mirror to our shared humanity.

Here are thirteen games that have resonated with me deeply, showcasing the power of this medium. Each of these games, in its own unique way, acts as a sophisticated empathy engine. They use their specific mechanics—from wordless co-op to environmental storytelling—to bypass intellectual understanding and go straight to emotional resonance.


1. Flow

This elegant exploration of the evolution of life reminds us of the interconnectedness of all beings. As you navigate a primordial soup, absorbing other life forms to grow, the experience is meditative and humbling, a quiet reminder that all life is part of a grand, continuous cycle. It is accompanied by Austin Wintory's majestic score that envelopes you in a spiritual hug.


2. Gone Home

Stepping into an empty house, you feel an immediate sense of unease. This game masterfully builds a narrative through environmental storytelling, allowing you to piece together the story of a young woman's journey of self-discovery. It's a poignant exploration of identity, family and the challenges of being true to oneself, particularly within the queer experience.


3. Dear Esther

This game is less an adventure and more a piece of interactive art told through the walking simulator process. A man wanders a desolate Hebridean island, his voice narrating fragments of text that reveal a deeper story of loss and memory. Its enigmatic narrative and hauntingly beautiful landscape evoke a sense of profound melancholy and introspection. The score by Jessica Curry is beautifully stark and reaches a beautiful crescendo at the journey's end.


4. Journey

Journey is a powerful testament to the meaning of life and the connections we make along the way. Without any dialogue, you can forge a bond with a fellow traveler as you embark on a trek across a vast desert. The wordless co-op experience is deeply moving, teaching us that even brief connections can leave a lasting impression. Once again, Austin Wintory's multi-award winning score elevates the experience to a spiritual level.


5. Everyone Has Gone to the Rapture

Exploring a deserted English village, you uncover the stories of its vanished inhabitants. The game builds an eerie atmosphere as you piece together what happened, forcing you to confront the unsettling thought of what lies beyond our mortal understanding. It’s a beautiful and unnerving look at faith and the end of the world. The music by Jessica Curry is beautiful and reminds me of Vaughan Williams or Elgar.


6. Monument Valley II

This puzzle game is a visually stunning and emotionally resonant portrayal of the mother-daughter relationship. Guiding a mother and child through Escher-like architectural puzzles, the game becomes a gentle meditation on the journey of a parent letting their child go and the beauty of independence.


7. Before Your Eyes

Before Your Eyes is a touching narrative about the afterlife and the chance to confront past regrets. The game is a metaphor for reflection, suggesting that even in death, there can be an opportunity for redemption and peace by revisiting and correcting past mistakes.


8. Wandersong

In a world of heroes and epic quests, you play as a simple bard who believes in the power of song. Wandersong is a beautiful reminder that you are enough just as you are. The protagonist doesn't need to be a mighty warrior; their true power lies in their ability to connect with others and spread joy. The soundtrack is also beautifully eclectic and deeply touching in places.


9. Nier: Automata

This game is a masterclass in philosophical storytelling. Nier: Automata delves into concepts like existentialism and humanism, compelling you to question the very definition of humanity through the eyes of androids. The narrative, inspired by thinkers like Camus and Nietzsche, uses sacrifice and loss to create a profound and beautiful emotional arc, especially in its poignant final act. The soundtrack is also an all-timer!


10. Clair Obscura: Expedition 33

This is the most recent game to deeply affect me and was the main prompt for this post. Clair Obscura made me ponder the profound concept of 'those that come after.' The game raises a critical question: what do we owe future generations? It serves as a reminder that our legacy isn't just for ourselves but for the people who will inherit the world we leave behind. This also has an amazing soundtrack!


11. What Remains of Edith Finch

The curse of the Finch family isn't just a plot device; it's an inescapable sense of fate. As you step into each family member's story, you feel the weight of their lives and their tragic ends. The story of the baby, in particular, renders a simple, joyful moment of imagination so beautifully that its abrupt, tragic end hurts all the more. The game doesn't just show you grief, it helps you feel the devastating finality of it.


12. To the Moon

This pixel art game beautifully pieces together a dying man’s wish. It breaks down a life into its most fundamental components: a memory, a promise, a feeling of being unfulfilled. It’s the perfect medium for a story as fragile as a memory, making every conversation and flashback feel significant. It allows us to understand the weight of a promise, even an unspoken one, and the quiet beauty of a peaceful end.


13. Brothers: A Tale of Two Sons

This game uses dual-stick controls not as a gimmick, but as the physical manifestation of a relationship. It is the bridge between two controllers and two hearts, ensuring the cooperation feels natural and the separation feels wrong. The final moments are a culmination of every shared step and challenge, delivering a gut punch of an ending that reminds us that even though we lost a character, we gained a powerful memory.


Girl on Girl: How Pop Culture Turned a Generation of Women Against Themselves- Book Review (and Some Thoughts)

As a millennial, born in 1981, I've lived a pretty interesting life so far. When I look back at the evolution of society, the rate of change is remarkable—especially regarding the dominance of the internet. We hope that, as a people, we are moving toward more enlightened times. Yet, the past few years have shown that for every step forward, we also take steps back, particularly regarding female bodily autonomy.

Sophie Gilbert's Girl on Girl proves an insightful companion to works like Sarah Ditum’s Toxic, exploring this regression through a compelling mixture of history, culture, and feminist theory. Gilbert persuasively argues that pornography has become the defining cultural product of our times, fundamentally altering how genders perceive one another. She analyzes the profound effect of the commodification of the female body on women's self-worth, offering a crucial cultural context for the rise in self-harm and depression following the ubiquity of camera-enabled smartphones.

Gilbert, being only three years my junior, shares a familiar set of cultural touchstones. She opens the book by recalling her formative years at age 16, highlighting the era’s pop-cultural fixation on women: Britney Spears on the infamous Rolling Stone cover, the exploitative fantasy in American Beauty, and the projection of Gail Porter's image onto the Houses of Parliament for FHM. These recollections offer a raw look at the pervasive, casual sexism of the 90s and 00s. For those who did not live through it, the sheer unapologetic cruelty directed at famous women by the media is difficult to fully grasp.

Recently, I watched a few films I recalled fondly from that era, and the casual misogyny was striking. It wasn't just a case of grandfathering in the accepted "norms" of the time; it was cruelty heaped upon a baseline toxic "lad culture" that pervaded the "Cool Britannia" zeitgeist. While there seemed to be tides of change in the mid-00s, with significant progress in legal and educational arenas, the bad old times seem to be back. Post-Trump, the rise of the Manosphere, the rolling back of Roe v. Wade, and the easy access to extreme adult material online suggest the misogyny of the past has returned in a new, mutated form.

Over nine chapters, Gilbert looks at this regression of women's rights. There are a few key themes that overarch her work, most notably a "culture of contempt."

Gilbert argues that the turn of the millennium saw a shift from the rebellious punk and Riot Grrrl figures of the 80s and early 90s to more girlish, vulnerable archetypes (like the Spice Girls and Britney Spears), who were easily manipulated and mocked. This culture of contempt was driven by figures like Perez Hilton, who built careers on publicly shaming women, and the celebrity press—such as Heat magazine with its infamous 'Circle of Shame'—which attacked innocent fashion 'faux pas' and the bodies of women.

A key element underlying this shift was the rise of easily accessible internet pornography. As porn became more ubiquitous and extreme, popular culture strained to catch up, conditioning a generation of women to view themselves as both commodities and subjects worthy of derision. This era saw the rise of "Porno Chic" fashion and predation, a dynamic that eventually reached a breaking point with the #MeToo movement nearly two decades later.

Compounding all of this was the ideology of post-feminism, which falsely posited that the fight for gender equality was largely over. Women were instead steered toward finding "liberation" through consumption and self-commodification. This toxic attitude permeated all corners of pop culture—from films like American Pie to reality TV—fostering a pervasive sense that women should be objects of male desire and, crucially, objects of one another's contempt (epitomized by the media-fueled Britney vs. Christina rivalry).

Gilbert's work forces readers to confront an uncomfortable truth: this sustained devaluation of women in popular culture has likely contributed to broader societal and political outcomes. Culture shapes us and our choices, for better or worse.

Overall, Girl on Girl serves as a powerful piece of cultural criticism and a call to action. It reminds us that we must demand a popular culture that does not demean women or spread casual misogyny. We are currently stuck in a specific "Reality Tunnel"—a mental model we mistake for reality itself—where the devaluation of women is normalized. To break free from this narrative, and the "Circumambient Narratives" that define our societal values, we must actively aspire for the betterment of all women and envision a world superior to the one that has dominated since the turn of the millennium.

The Xbox 360 and Me: A Console Retrospective

I have a long history with gaming, but the Xbox 360, released 20 years ago, was truly revelatory. It changed the gaming landscape forever.

I first discovered gaming when I was six years old, living opposite a video rental store in East Ham, East London. The shop hosted a few arcade machines, including a sit-down Pac-Man table and Space Invaders. I fell in love with the colours, lights, and sounds immediately. In fact, I blame that fascination for getting me run over when I was rushing across a busy street to spend my pocket money. Luckily, I escaped with only a graze on my head, living to tell the tale and play another day.

I begged my parents for a computer, but money was always tight. I contented myself with playing on my friends' machines until my best friend received a NES for his tenth birthday. Nintendo hooked me immediately. We played through Double Dragon, Super Mario Bros, Zelda, and Micro Machines, and I eventually worked hard on a car-washing round to buy my own Master System.

Through the 90s console wars, I bounced between manufacturers. I experienced the Mega Drive’s Sonic and Streets of Rage with friends, loved a beat-up second-hand Game Boy, and eventually returned to Nintendo for the N64 for Goldeneye and Zelda: Ocarina of Time.

As I grew older and started working weekend jobs at a clothing chain, I could finally buy consoles brand new. The GameCube was the first machine I bought on launch day, followed later by a PS2 specifically for Ico.

But everything changed in the mid-2000s. When the Xbox 360 released in 2005, I didn't buy it immediately; I waited until 2007. A friend of a friend had the console on release day and plugged it into his HDTV back when those televisions cost over £1,000. Seeing Gears of War on that screen blew my mind. It looked so much better than anything I had seen before—a true Mario 64-style revelation. A group of us would go around daily to work our way through the game; it was a truly communal experience.

This was my gaming setup, circa 2007 (ish) and the 360 featured quite prominently.

When I finally bought my own, it just felt different. It wasn't just the graphics, but the ecosystem, which was miles ahead of what had come before. The Xbox 360 standardized the online console experience in a way that felt revolutionary. The introduction of Xbox Live Party Chat meant the console became a virtual living room. While I’ve always been a couch co-op purist, I recognized that for many of my friends, this social layer was game-changing.

Likewise, the Achievement system gamified gaming itself, adding that addictive pop sound that made every accomplishment feel significant. While I never felt compelled to find all the feathers in Assassin's Creed 2 or platinum a game, I loved that the system tracked my gaming history. However, the feature I engaged with most was the Summer of Arcade. Xbox Live Arcade (XBLA) pioneered the indie console scene, proving that download-only titles could be just as impactful as retail releases. Everything was built-in, and the customisability of the Gamertag, Avatar, and dashboard themes made the system feel personal and edgy.

The hardware itself was a triumph of ergonomics; in my humble opinion, the 360 controller is still one of the best ever made. The asymmetrical sticks, the triggers that felt like actual triggers, and the weight of it in the hand made shooters and racing games feel intuitive in a way the DualShock simply didn't at the time.

Of course, the hardware wasn't without its faults. I was fortunate to never suffer the Red Ring of Death, though plenty of my friends did. We often tried to fix their consoles with the dubious towel trick to overheat the solder, but these were the trials and tribulations of owning such a memorable piece of hardware.

While the features were groundbreaking, I bought the 360 primarily because it looked head and shoulders above any other console. It eventually hosted all-time greats, including BioShock, The Orange Box, Red Dead Redemption, Halo 3, Dead Space, Burnout and Dishonored. It also (re)introduced the world to plastic peripherals that were essential to playing games like Rock Band, Guitar Hero and DJ Hero - plastic instruments that filled charity shops for a decade but are now becoming expensive collectors' items.

The console also introduced me to niche titles like Nier and Panzer Dragoon: Orta, as well as digital-only gems like Scott Pilgrim vs. The World, Brothers: A Tale of Two Sons, Castle Crashers, and Geometry Wars: Retro Evolved. Furthermore, it gave me the chance to play older games that were prohibitively expensive in the wild via XBLA, such as Castlevania: Symphony of the Night and Radiant Silvergun.

I loved my 360 console. It is currently stored in the loft, ready to bring out once I have a man cave space sorted. I just hope my system still works; I have a large collection of original games and look forward to revisiting those classics on the original hardware soon.

LINK- Pure Invention: How Japan's Pop Culture Conquered the World- Book Review (and Personal Reflections)

LINK- The Rise of Retro Gaming During Covid

LINK: Japan: My Journey to the East

LINK- Blood, Sweat and Pixels- Book Review

LINK- Utopia for Realists- Book Review

LINK- On And On And Colston ( Or, How We Kinda Sort of Learned to Talk About the Legacy of Colonialism and the British Empire)

LINK- ‘Natives: Race and Class in the Ruins of Empire’

LINK: Elden Ring- Videogames As Art

Clair Obscur: Expedition 33 - Videogames As Art

As we approach the end of the year, Clair Obscur: Expedition 33 has serious Game of the Year contender vibes for me still. The game’s beautiful Belle Époque art style and cinematic storytelling evoke classics like Final Fantasy 13 and Nier: Automata, but its unique turn-based active timed battles truly set it apart. This innovative combat system makes every encounter feel fresh and exciting, much like how MercurySteam revitalized Castlevania with Lords of Shadow.

After 30 hours of gameplay and rolling credits, I can honestly say that this is a modern masterpiece that delivers on style, substance and bold new storytelling ideas.

Minority Rule by Ash Sarkar - Book Review (and Some Thoughts)

Ash Sarkar has long been a refreshing, no-holds-barred voice in the often-stifling world of political commentary. From her sharp wit on Novara Media to her incisive takedowns on Question Time, she consistently delivers thought-provoking critiques that leave many smug politicos reeling. So, when Minority Rule hit the shelves, I, like many others, was eagerly anticipating her deeper dive into the issues she so eloquently dissects on screen. And I can say, with conviction, that she delivers.

Introduction - Sarkar starts her book with a whirlwind overview of the worlds ills and how there is a purposeful atomisation of the public through reality manipulation by those in positions of power and authority. The minority are blamed to distract from the real cause by an elite few who have more than enough but demand ever more - be it money, power or influence.

She discusses her interest in politics from a young age and her draw to Communism and especially the control of means of production. The Neo-liberal project, instigated by Reagan and Thatcher, removed the public services into private hands and the whole 'Greed is Good' mantra took over and has rarely faltered for those with money but for the average person, it has been devastating as inequality has grown sharply. Identity politics takes the oxygen out of the room and so those in power can carry on without being disturbed too much at all as people are distracted.

How the 'I' Took Over Identity Politics Part 1 - She starts with Roger Hallam, Founder of Extinction Rebellion, calling the left "A bunch of cunts" at the beginning of a forum and how that introspective, yet coarse observation, led to the whole evening falling apart as various factions and groups formed to say how they had been affected by this violence. Sarkar argues that this has been appropriated by the Right and so there is no collective response but rather the left eating itself in a hideous ouroboros of nonsense and sensitivities. This whataboutism leaves the left struggling to get its shit together but does allow specific people to have social capital, which doesn't amount to much. 'My truth' and 'Lived Experience' have taken the place of 'The Truth' but this entitlement is subjective and not useful to instigate change in the actual material world where there is 'Actual Truth' with empirical data, facts etc (and no, don't go quoting me Churchill's 'Lies. Damn lies and statistics' crap). Thus, this personal ambition for individuality makes it hard to create a mass movement and instigate any real change - instead, we have paralysis. Bregman talks about this very issue in his book Moral Ambition and said there has to be a singular purpose with circles supporting one another for that one thing without distractions or asides.

How the 'I' Took Over Identity Politics Part 2 - Sarkar then looks at the DEI Industrial Complex (which is a term I love as it captures my pessimism about how the whole industry paid lipservice but didnt actually instigate change hearts or minds. Just look at how many corporations removed it as it was no longer financially, politically or socially expedient when Trump came in). She continues that identity politics is now taught in institutions rather than at grassroots and so is missing the real human social element where life is messy- it's too cut and dried and many people are ready to cancel at a moments notice by shaming.

Outrage culture is mentioned and the idea that whatever you say, there is always someone ready to dunk on you saying that you are an -ist or have an -ism. This leads to people self-censoring and policing themselves and others, even when what is said is not intended in the least to be provocative or controversial but rather a discussion with a variety of viewpoints. This is exhausting and the Right have seized this to say, ‘We can't say anything anymore' whilst being on politics and news shows on the telly, X née Twitter, Tiktok, GBNews, newspapers and so on. This is called ‘Majority Identity’ politics- those in positions of power claiming they are not e.g. Farage hilariously insisting that he's just a regular lad who loves a good old pint at a regular pub rather than a guy who banks at Coutts.

Sarkar's engagement with David Baddiel's work on the Jewish experience sparks a crucial discussion on the "weaponization of victimhood." While acknowledging Baddiel's lived experience, Sarkar questions the notion that acknowledging other atrocities, such as the Bengal Famine (which killed between 2.1 and 2.8 million people under Churchill's watch) or the horrific reign of King Leopold II in the Congo (resulting in an estimated 10 million deaths), somehow diminishes the Jewish Holocaust. She powerfully argues against a "Highlander Syndrome" where only one group can claim ultimate victimhood, urging readers to recognize multiple instances of genocide and to call out ongoing atrocities, such as the one in Palestine, without fear of being labeled antisemitic. The fact that the immense suffering in the Congo is rarely brought into mainstream discourse underscores her point about a hierarchy of harm, implicitly questioning why the lives of Black people might appear to matter less in global narratives.

Talk is Cheap - The state of play in the media is considered here, particularly the parlous state of legacy news where there have been extensive job cuts. This has meant that there is less fact checking and more circling the drain of the same stories that everyone else seems to cover. To mitigate this many have taken the combative talking heads approach where nuance and knowledge is replaced by angry opinions, often without facts but personal 'lived experience'. This odd-couples approach seems to work as angry tirades seems to draw interest in our attention economy which is algorithmically led. This has meant that the discourse is sour and, rather than a thoughtful debate, we have people haranguing each other trying to pwn with little academic rigour.

I've seen this as the YouTube algorithm favours those videos with pictures of people's face looking angry/ upset etc with the title written in bold ALLCAPS. 'REMOANER REGRETS STARTING AN ARGUMENT WITH BREXITEER', `KAREN GET COMEUPPANCE'. With the decline in television watching and more people, especially the youth, getting their news online this situation will only get worse.

Sarkar states that the five trends of less original news, more opinion, the explosion of social media, declining standards of newsworthiness and the primary of reaction have led to storms in a tea cup or micro-events. The Internet, once considered a way to unite humanity, has created antagonistic filter bubble groups where everyone thinks they are right. This favours the Right who don't need to unite disperate groups in order to enact change but rather a singular narrative where there is a feeling of hauntology of 'it was better in the old days' (even though it blatantly wasn't for many people including for BAME, LGBTQ, many women etc) but how can you compete against misremembered nostalgia and rose-tinted glasses?

She ends with examples of violent unrest and roots where BAME communities were blamed for civil unrest, often without any evidence or selective incidences, including the Liverpool Football Club victory parade hit and run incident.

The Lobby - Sarkar scathingly refers to some politicians as having a runny egg where a brain should be, saying that they are reactionary and beholden to the commentariat rather than visionary or able in their own right. She states that with the attention economy being so flooded, politicians will often repeat small soundbites rather than speak in a coherent and cohesive way. This means that pundit politics, rather than leading change, is reacting to the newspapers, social media algorithms and reactions. It's all very unedifying and presents a race to the bottom for attention with the rise of Nigel Farage, Lee Anderson, Priti Patel etc.

The lobby, that is journalists with positions of authority within their respective newspapers, are now nothing more than mouthpieces for their 'contacts' and 'sources' who often feed them the party line which is then shared as gospel fact without fact-checking... speed is considered more important than accuracy.

There is a revolving door between journalists and political roles and, even when disgraced, they often just swap over to the other industry. We have weird situations where politicians are interviewed by their own spouse but pretend like they don't know each other or are unacquainted.

One of the weirdest interviews I saw was on Good Morning Britain in ITV when Ed Balls, a former MP, talked to his wife about something the 2024 race riots at the time but was acting like he didn't know know her - this was surely a conflict of interests! Meanwhile, Allegra Stratton was fired after her Covid Party admission video leaked but she was parachuted into a plum journalistic role where her husband and colleague have links. This is a self-serving oeroboros of narcissism and ambition where people fail upwards with no consequence and there is an omerta that prevents people in journalism and politics from speaking out for fear of career reprisals.

Economics Are the Method - Identitarian Politics looks at how categorisation and class structures have been ruthlessly manipulated for political gains. Now its mostly to do with vibes but between 1945 and 79 it was to do with union membership, the working men's club and social cohesion. With neo-libralism this was broken with individualism taking hold and home, asset and business ownership  anindicator of how people would vote. The more you had, the more you would veer towards the Right as they declared themselves the party of fiscal responsibility. But, this was not black and white as aspe ts such as education, thoughts about human and LGBTQ rights were important too. 

Sarkar talks to Dominic Cummings who candidly speaks about his strategy for Brexit; highlight fears of immigrants whilst also saying you would lower taxes and give money to public services. This would entice Labour and Tory voters and, in focus groups, was very successful - it was in real life too. 

Sarkar compellingly argues that in societies experiencing 'managed decline' like Britain, immigration becomes a convenient scapegoat for a myriad of ills. Issues such as raw sewage polluting rivers, which are unequivocally the result of corporate greed and mismanagement, are nonetheless laid at the doorstep of refugees and asylum seekers. This deflection thrives in a media and political landscape saturated with negativity towards the 'Other.' 

The nuanced realities of systemic failures are ignored, instead lumped in with simplistic, fear-mongering narratives like "foreigners coming in and taking our jobs". This pervasive rhetoric fosters deep-seated animosity, disproportionately impacting BAME/ POC who become the targets of misplaced blame and prejudice. Opportunists are now looking to blame immigrants etc for crimes they had no hand in, leading to the police having to state the colour and background of the person arrested to stop rioting. Sarkar ends the chapter by stating that by splintering the working class along cultural rather than economic lines, those in power have weakened the power of the real working class. 

One Big Gang - Sarkar connects the 2011 London riots directly to the prevailing socio-economic climate: austerity, police violence, institutional racism, poverty, and economic inequality. She argues that these conditions fueled a deliberate strategy to fragment the working class, recognizing their collective power as a formidable force. This fragmentation, she contends, explains why the media largely converged to attribute blame to Black culture, including elements like hoodies, music, and the "Get rich or die tryin'" ethos – concepts they clearly misunderstood. It was easier to blame an underground music scene like drill and clothes likes hoodies than admit economic and social failings were a cause. Caricatures like Ali G and Vicky Pollard made the idea of mixed race and interracial relationships seem like a contaminant in early 00s media, with the white working class (who were salt of the Earth) degenerate into feckless, lazy, single parent stereotypes. This is all stuff and nonsense couched in miscegenation and Enoch Powell-esque racism but it bled into the mainstream. 

It's striking to observe the contrast the commentary surrounding the 2011 (everyone's invited?) riots with the 2024 riots across England, which primarily involved white individuals targeting BAME communities in the wake of the Southport killings. These incidents did not face the same harsh condemnation; instead, they were often excused by commentators as reactions from "scared and hurt communities" or "culturally contaminated communities" where Black popular culture had supposedly influenced the youth. This disparity, Sarkar concludes, reveals clear and undeniable racism.

This whole chapter really resonated with me. It brought to mind the French government's palpable fear of its own populace, echoing V's powerful line in V for Vendetta: "People shouldn't be afraid of their government. Governments should be afraid of their people." I remember watching the riots unfold whilst teaching in Cambodia and thinking it had taken far too long for things to escalate. After all, the banks had been bailed out at the expense of public services, leaving the poorest in society with virtually no safety net, save for the patronizing "We are all in it together" mantra – a sentiment no one in any real position of power or financial freedom actually believed. For further proof, see the Tory Covid parties that occured when everyone was in lockdown, unable to see dying loved ones in hospital or attend funerals. 

Following 2011, a significant shift occurred in the discourse surrounding working-class communities. What was once broadly understood through the pejorative term 'chavs' rapidly morphed into a focus on the 'white working class' (WWC). This change, arguably a deliberate tactic by those in authority, served to fracture the burgeoning solidarity between marginalized Black and White communities who felt increasingly disenfranchised.

Suddenly, the WWC was rebranded as law-abiding, hardworking, Conservative-voting, and inherently 'good honest folk' whose concerns were supposedly ignored. This dramatic volte-face was executed at breakneck speed by both tabloid and broadsheet newspapers, seemingly without a trace of guilt or introspection. Yet, it proved remarkably effective in swaying public opinion.

Terms like 'Red Wall,' 'Woke,' and 'Culture Wars,' alongside 'WWC,' have now become ingrained in our political and social lexicon. This new vocabulary is frequently deployed to undermine previously hard-won successes in Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion (DEI) by falsely claiming that anti-racism somehow disadvantages the white working class."

Demographic Panic - Sarkar observes a growing "transgender panic" with some portraying the mere existence of transgender individuals as a threat to the traditional way of life for "normal men and women". This highly politicized issue, she notes, has intensified in recent years, seemingly imported from American evangelical and far-right movements. Sarkar also delves into the "Great Replacement Theory," which posits that the "wrong" demographic groups are out-reproducing "normal (white) men and women," leading to an eventual demographic shift. This idea of an ethnostate is a problematic one, especially if it comes after hundreds of years of colonial rule and empire building for obvious reasons.

This analysis feels particularly relevant given Nigel Farage's recent announcement about removing the two-child benefit cap for British citizens. While it remains to be seen whether he intends this to apply to all "hard-working Brits" or a more specific segment of the "working-class Brits," his past statements have certainly hinted at an affinity for the "Great Replacement Theory."

Sarkar speaks out about her "Yes lads, we're winning" comment, which she made while presenting statistics on childbirth among different racial groups. She apologises for the remark, explaining it was meant as a flippant and sarcastic joke that she believes has been intentionally twisted by people with bad intentions. The fallout was severe, including death threats and even police involvement due to plausible pipe bomb threats.

She also argues that while some are quick to blame certain groups, like Muslims, for supposedly limiting women's rights, it has actually been the judges in America who rolled back Roe v. Wade, stripping millions of women of their abortion rights whilst emboldening the Christian fundamentalist on the Right.

Sarkar then gives a quick rundown of how the concept of race was created in science and social sciences. It started in the 16th century, and by the 17th and 18th centuries, various scientific and pseudoscientific groups jumped in to explain why things were the way they were. The 19th century saw the rise of Social Darwinism, with phrenology and eugenics gaining traction. These ideas ultimately served to justify terrible things like slavery, colonial rule, segregation, and eventually Nazism.

She also touches on the post-war movement of people from former empires to Western countries and how this immigration changed the face of the West. She specifically brings up Enoch Powell's 'Rivers of Blood' speech and how its influence still lingers in politics and society today.

Finally, Sarkar emphasizes that while race is a social construct, it's often treated as a scientific truth. She believes that it is constantly manipulated and altered to suit what the political right sees as a threat. This leads to what is called 'post-racial' politics—which is still racist, but now with a veneer of respectability. The 'I'm just saying' crowd love this cloak of respectability, especially when riots they helped cause are happening.

Sarkar ends with the stark choice facing societies: multi-racial democracy or the myth of Identitarian Supremacy.

I liked this as it was brief but outlined the main points of race and race theory. I also liked the calling out of Identitarian Supremacy, especially in Modi's India where apparently Love Jihad has been pushed as a concept. Anyone who has been in a relationship or marriage knows that it's hard to keep a relationship going even when you like the person (especially during time like Covid which led to many of my friends divorcing and breaking up with long term partners they did like), let alone for some weird concept like slowly and intentionally diluting the 'pure' race and religion of Hinduism. I mean, that's some commitment!

Planet Landlord - Sarkar plays a thought experiment with privitising air and goes through the processes and then reveals this is what had happened to water in the UK. She says rather than these things happening in isolation, there has been a coordinated plan with systems working together for the benefit of individuals and corporations. It's not pizza paedophile cabal but it's not random events just happening either, it's a middle ground.

Renteer Capitalism is the idea of not really doing much in terms of creation or production but extracting wealth upwards into the hands of the few. Look at Thames Water, a monopoly that is supposed to provide a key utility but is on the verge of collapse... I mean, how?! Easy. Take the money out of the company in terms of dividends and bonuses but don't update infrastructure or improve services- that's asset stripping.

This has happened in Britain across train, bus, gas, electric and other such integral companies and services as well as football clubs. That's why the country is going to the dogs but blaming the 'Other' helps to obfuscate this and the political parties and media are complicit in this.

Sarkar argues that we now live in an age of digital Fiefdoms (run by Techno Feudalists like Amazon, Microsoft, Google etc) with giant corporations having more GDP than most countries.

Epilogue - Sarkar ends with the summer riots that rocked England after the stabbing and killing of young girls was wrongly attributed to a Muslim refugee or asylum seeker. This dehumanisation of those seeking safety and dispersal to poorer areas meant 7 out of 10 most deprived towns witnessed rioting. Those convicted often had the same pattern; were of no fixed abode, were jobless, had had a difficult and often broken family background, and often did not finish their schooling.

The failure of the social safety net is not a pass to be racist or commit crimes but it is emblematic of where we are as a country. However, there were plenty of people who were not in difficult circumstances who used the horrific events to carry out heinous racist acts, like the wife of an MP who said, “Set fire to all the fucking hotels full of the bastards for all I care... if that makes me racist so be it”.

Since then, a profound moral urgency has swept across the world, manifesting in widespread protests against the genocide in Gaza. Sarkar argues that rather than ending on a despairing note, sustained persistence, focused effort, and collaborative action—instead of individual isolation—offer a path to meaningful change. This transformation, however, will be hard-fought, as existing systems of power and authority will deploy all their resources and influence to maintain their positions.

I really enjoyed the book as it brought together a lot of the different opinions and stands I've been collecting over the past several years. Greta Thunberg realised this a while ago too and so she is fighting to break the oppressive capitalist system that has caused a lot of the problems we are seeing including the climate catastrophe.

Last summer, as the riots were going on, I wrote the following on Facebook and I think it still stands:

The 'Condition of England' question, where the Industrial Revolution created massive inequalities in British society that led to a huge wealth disparity, has echoed through time and been perpetuated and maintained through political choices. Most recently, the UN Special Rapporteur on extreme poverty and human rights, Philip Alston stated in 2018 that the years of government led austerity had led to the "systematic immiseration of millions across Great Britain” which damaged the fabric of society and led to an increase in populism. The safety nets that were supposed to protect us were systematically underfunded, asset stripped and sold for spare parts to the private sector, creating a break in the usual fabric of social cohesion.

As a British Pakistani, I was always warned that the lives of peoples of colour was conditional in this country. Growing up, it was easy to see the peaks and troughs of dehumanising language used against whatever bogeyman was decided upon for all the percieved ills of the world, although it was almost always immigrants, asylum seekers or any people of colour.

Many politicians, as well as the right wing and mainstream media, have been complicit in this for decades and now pretend to act surprised that their words and actions have stoked this fire. I hope there are real consequences for those who wish to tear apart our society. In the meantime, protect and support those in need.

LINK: Japan: My Journey to the East

LINK: Please Save My Earth - Cult Manga Review

LINK: Thomas Was Alone Video Game Vinyl Soundtrack Review

LINK: Akira Soundtrack Vinyl Review

LINK: The Power of Stories and How They Are Manipulated

LINK: The Message by Ta-Nahisi Coates - Book Review (and Some Thoughts)

LINK: The Anxious Generation: Book Review (and Some Thoughts)

LINK: Utopia for Realists- Book Review

LINK: Toxic: Women, Fame and the Noughties- Book Review (and Some Thoughts)

Reality Behind the Fantasy: The Autobiography of Caroline Munro - Book Review

I have always held a real soft spot for Caroline Munro. For a film fan of a certain vintage, she is woven into the very fabric of our formative years. She is the definitive Scream Queen in Captain Kronos and Dracula A.D. 1972; she is the lethal Bond Girl Naomi in The Spy Who Loved Me; and she is the quintessential fantasy heroine (and one of my first crushes) from The Golden Voyage of Sinbad.

I still frequently revisit these films—especially the Harryhausen classics, given my love for his creature effects (a passion shared by Munro herself, who serves as a Trustee for his foundation). I recently missed a chance to meet her at the Hell Tor Festival in Exeter, despite living nearby, so I jumped at the chance to read her autobiography, Reality Behind the Fantasy. So, does the book live up to the icon?

If you are looking for a dry, day-by-day chronological account of a life, this might not be it. Instead, Munro’s book reads like a "Greatest Hits" album. It is a collection of the specific life experiences, chance encounters, and instincts that shaped her singular career path across the worlds of Bond, Hammer Horror, and Sci-Fi.

Munro is philosophical about her journey. She reflects on the "Sliding Doors" moment where she chose the role of Naomi in Bond over Ursa in Superman II. She notes:

"We all have moments in life where we look back and wonder what might have been... It’s a natural part of the human experience."

She concludes that following her instincts rather than a "grand plan" was the right way to go and one of the most touching aspects of the book is Munro’s candor about her early years. Despite an idyllic home life with a supportive mother and a father shaped by WW2, she struggled academically. She opens up about her battle with dyslexia, which wasn't fully understood at the time, leading to a lack of confidence in the classroom.

However, once she moved to Brighton Art College, things fell into place. The book paints a vivid picture of the era—riding her bicycle "Blue Bird," seeing The Beatles perform in Brighton before they were global superstars, and eventually stumbling into the "Face of the Year" competition that launched her modeling career.

The anecdotes from this era are gold dust for pop-culture fans. From a romance with Colin Blunstone (The Zombies) to declining a kiss from photographer David Bailey (telling him he was "too old"!) and a chance encounter with a magnetic, pre-fame David Bowie, Munro was right in the center of the cultural zeitgeist.

Naturally, the bulk of the book covers her legendary film career. Horror fans will appreciate the deep dive into her time at Hammer. She speaks with immense respect for Sir Christopher Lee and Peter Cushing, crediting them with helping her overcome imposter syndrome during the filming of Dracula A.D. 1972.

Her stories are often hilarious and self-deprecating. One highlight is her mortification at accidentally burping in front of Vincent Price after a pâté breakfast on the set of Dr. Phibes - only for the horror legend to laugh it off and join in.

She also touches on the guerrilla filmmaking styles of her later cult hits like Maniac and The Last Horror Film, sharing the gritty reality of filming in Times Square without permits. Whether it was getting stung by a bee during her first scene with Roger Moore or nearly crashing in a helicopter for a Lamb's Navy Rum advert, Munro portrays the industry as equal parts glamour and danger.

The book takes a serious turn as Munro discusses her personal life, including her marriages (first to Judd Hamilton, then to George) and her recent battle with breast cancer. She speaks highly of Maggie’s, a charity that supported her, adding a layer of vulnerability to the glamour.

She ends the book on a poignant note regarding her recent work on the convention circuit and with Talking Pictures TV. She realizes that acting isn't just about entertainment; it is about,

"helping people escape, heal, dream, and feel."

Overall, I really enjoyed my time with Reality Behind the Fantasy as it wasn’t a heavy academic study of film; it was more like a conversation. It felt honestly earnest and breezy and I felt that it captured the voice of a woman who has remained grounded despite being a fantasy icon for decades.

So, if you are a fan of Hammer, Harryhausen, or just the golden era of British film, this is well worth your time.

LINK- The Golden Voyage of Sinbad - Cult Film Review

LINK- The 7th Voyage of Sinbad- Cult Movie Review

LINK- Into the Unknown Exhibition Shines Bright at the Barbican

LINK- Ray Harryhausen: Titan of Cinema Virtual Exhibition Experience- Review

LINK- Children of the Stones: Cult TV Series Review

LINK- Tom’s Midnight Garden: Cult TV Review

LINK- On And On And Colston ( Or, How We Kinda Sort of Learned to Talk About the Legacy of Colonialism and the British Empire)

LINK: Japan: My Journey to the East

LINK- Pure Invention- Book Review

Ginger Snaps Back : The Beginning - Cult Horror Review

The Ginger Snaps trilogy holds a unique place in the horror genre, particularly for its innovative approach to the werewolf mythos. While often overlooked, the series offers a compelling blend of body horror, social commentary, and psychological depth.

The original Ginger Snaps was released in 2000 and was widely lauded for its sharp, incisive take on lycanthropy as a potent metaphor for female puberty. The film cleverly intertwined the grotesque aspects of becoming a werewolf with the equally unsettling realities of menstruation, burgeoning sexuality, and the alienation often felt by teenage girls. It's a coming-of-age story wrapped in a visceral horror package, making it both relatable and terrifying.

Its sequel, Ginger Snaps 2: Unleashed (2004), pivoted significantly, delving into the realm of psychological horror. The film explored themes of addiction, isolation, and the insidious nature of obsession. The horror here was less about the physical transformation and more about the mental anguish and the loss of control, making it a darker, more introspective experience.

That left me with just one more film in the trilogy, Ginger Snaps Back: The Beginning (2004). Released in the same year as Unleashed, this film takes an unexpected turn by serving as a prequel, transporting us back to 19th-century Canada. What makes it particularly peculiar is the re-casting of Katharine Isabelle and Emily Perkins in the exact same roles of Ginger and Brigitte, albeit as ancestors. When they find themselves lost in the woods, with Brigitte injured in a bear trap, they are rescued and sent to a remote fur trading outpost. There they feel a sense of dread as everyone seems afraid of something as they are hunted down... but what could it possibly be?

This film leans into a more traditional gothic horror aesthetic, complete with isolated settings and a pervasive sense of dread. The claustrophobic wooden fort and narrow, shadowy corridors offers a great background to this familiar story. However, the narrative choice of choosing the same actresses and putting them into this olde world setting creates a strange sense of déjà vu, as the familiar sisterly dynamic and the onset of lycanthropy plays out against a new, historical backdrop with Valley Girl vibes - it's weird and creates a strange disconnect.

Having said that, I enjoyed my time with the film and, while it lacks the sharp metaphorical edge of the first film or the psychological intensity of the second, its willingness to experiment with its own established lore, and its commitment to re-exploring the core relationship between the sisters in a different era, makes it a fascinating, if somewhat odd, conclusion to the trilogy.

LINK: Summer, Fireworks, and My Body

LINK: A Nightmare on Elm Street Boxset - Cult Movie Review

LINK: The Power of Stories and How They Are Manipulated

LINK: The Message by Ta-Nahisi Coates - Book Review (and Some Thoughts)

LINK: The Anxious Generation: Book Review (and Some Thoughts)

LINK: Utopia for Realists- Book Review

LINK: Toxic: Women, Fame and the Noughties- Book Review (and Some Thoughts)

The Argument for Videogames As Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction

Walter Benjamin's seminal 1936 essay, 'The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction,' explored the changing nature of art in the modern era. At the heart of his argument was the concept of the 'aura' of an artwork. He believed that this aura was the unique presence of a work of art in time and space—its history, its physical location and its originality. In other words, this aura was what gave art its authority and authenticity.

Benjamin's concern was that mechanical reproduction, through technologies like photography and film, stripped the artwork of its aura. When a work of art, like the Mona Lisa, was endlessly reproduced in books, on posters, and now on the internet, its unique physical presence was diminished. The Mona Lisa currently sits in the Louvre, with its centuries of history and its physical dimensions and is a different experience from the high-res images available on any screen. Benjamin’s belief was that the 'aura' of the original was lost in its infinite reproducibility and I kind of get what he means. For me, the first time I saw the Mona Lisa I was surprised by its relatively small size. The endless reproductions had created an expectation of grandeur that the physical object couldn't live up to and so the aura of the original had been diluted by its reproduction.

This concept of the 'aura' has a fascinating parallel in the world of videogames as, by their very nature, they are works of mechanical reproduction. A single game, like The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild, exists as millions of identical digital copies. There is no ‘original’ physical cartridge or disc that holds the aura of the game. Yet, the experience of playing a videogame is profoundly personal and unique.

In videogames, a different kind of aura emerges, one that is not tied to the object itself, but to the player's subjective experience. The aura of a game like Elden Ring isn't in the code or the disc; it's in the hours spent exploring its world, the struggle against its bosses and the personal triumphs and failures. The game's narrative and world are static, but each player's journey is unique. The aura is not a property of the artwork, but a product of the interaction between the player and the game.

This shift suggests that in the digital age, the concept of aura is no longer solely tied to the physical object. Instead, it can be found in the unique, personal engagement we have with a work. In a videogame, we are not just passive observers; we are active participants with agency. We bring our own history, our own skills, and our own emotions to the experience. The aura of the game is not something lost in reproduction, but something created anew with each individual play-through.

In this sense, while Benjamin was concerned about the loss of aura in mechanical reproduction, videogames show us a new possibility. They suggest that even in the age of infinite copies, art can still have a powerful and unique presence—a presence that is not found in the object itself, but in the personal, lived experience of the player. Except with NFTs- that crap was a grift and deserved to die a quick death!

LINK- Pure Invention: How Japan's Pop Culture Conquered the World- Book Review (and Personal Reflections)

LINK- The Rise of Retro Gaming During Covid

LINK: Japan: My Journey to the East

LINK- Blood, Sweat and Pixels- Book Review

LINK- Utopia for Realists- Book Review

LINK- On And On And Colston ( Or, How We Kinda Sort of Learned to Talk About the Legacy of Colonialism and the British Empire)

LINK- ‘Natives: Race and Class in the Ruins of Empire’ LINK: Elden Ring- Videogames As Art

Ginger Snaps 2: Unleashed - Cult Film Review

Having thoroughly enjoyed the original Ginger Snaps for its unique blend of horror, coming-of-age themes, and sharp social commentary, I found myself drawn to complete the trilogy, wanting a sense of closure to the compelling narrative that I was now invested in.

Luckily, the second installment, Ginger Snaps 2: Unleashed was available to stream so I thought I'd give that a watch to see if it lived up to the original.

Well, the film is pretty much a straight continuation from the ending of the first story with the focus on Brigitte (Emily Perkins). As she grapples with the death of her sister and her own impending transformation, she navigates the social and systemic complexities of the rehabilitation center, all whole being the relentlessly pursued by a new, more feral werewolf.

While the raw, visceral energy of the first film was somewhat tempered, Unleashed delves deeper into the psychological torment and isolation that comes with the curse. Having watched the film it reminds me of the American McGee's videogames Alice and sequel Alice: Madness Returns which takes us on a more gothic and psychological version of Lewis Carroll's original tale. Here, Ginger is gone in body but not in spirit as Perkin's Brigitte struggles along trying to prove that she is not mad while, Ginger, like an evil Jiminy Cricket, teases and aims to turn her as she navigates the facility trying to prove that she isn't a drug-addled mental health patient.

The film's staging is more cinematic with lots of careful staging and stylised angled shots. The make-up budget has improved proved as Ginger and Brigitte look more glamorous, even though Perkins' character is supposed to be an addict to the antidote. Sure, there are fewer werewolf money shots and far fewer animatronic tranformations but the whole production looks very good, probably because it is mostly set in a dilapidated rehab clinic.

Perkins is excellent in her role as a young woman who is struggling to keep the curse at bay while everyone else thinks she is mad. She plays wide eyed confusion very well and her swivel eyed looks for escape are amazing but I must mention the performance of a very young Tatiana Maslany as Ghost. Even in this early role, Maslany's talent for embodying complex, often troubled characters is evident. Her portrayal of Ghost, a seemingly innocent but deeply disturbed young girl, adds a layer of unsettling tension and unpredictability to the narrative. It's fascinating to watch this performance now, knowing the incredible range she would later display as a star in the critically acclaimed series Orphan Black, where she masterfully played multiple distinct clones, and more recently, her entry into the Marvel Cinematic Universe as She-Hulk. Her presence in Ginger Snaps 2 serves as a compelling early showcase of the acting talent that would thrive later.

While perhaps not reaching the cult classic status of its predecessor, Ginger Snaps 2: Unleashed is a worthy, if grimmer, entry into the trilogy. It provided a necessary continuation for those invested in the characters' fates and offers a chance to see burgeoning talents like Tatiana Maslany in earlier roles. Sure, it has some questionable material that was of its time, like when a psychologists notes 'Lesbian?' when Brigitte talks about the horrific side effects of turning into a werewolf but, for the most part, nothing too egregious. Overall this film is a great watch and has stood the test of time pretty well.

LINK: Japan: My Journey to the East

LINK: Summer, Fireworks, and My Body

LINK: A Nightmare on Elm Street Boxset - Cult Movie Review

LINK: The Power of Stories and How They Are Manipulated

LINK: The Message by Ta-Nahisi Coates - Book Review (and Some Thoughts)

LINK: The Anxious Generation: Book Review (and Some Thoughts)

LINK: Utopia for Realists- Book Review

LINK: Toxic: Women, Fame and the Noughties- Book Review (and Some Thoughts)

Finding Art in Pixels: Why Virtual Galleries Capture Our Hearts

There's something uniquely captivating about stepping into an art gallery or museum. That hush, the careful lighting, the feeling of ideas unfolding around you – it's an experience I cherish whenever I visit these special places. What’s truly fascinating is how this very essence has been beautifully, and often powerfully, recreated within videogames.

You’re probably familiar with the trope: a dilapidated museum in a post-apocalyptic wasteland, a testament to a world lost and you'd be right as these dystopian galleries are incredibly common. They serve as poignant relics of a lost past, silent witnesses to what humanity once was before everything crumbled. They're often brimming with lore, their exhibits subtly weaving narratives of bygone eras, explaining the very devastation we are navigating. The preserved beauty within these crumbling walls provides a stark, almost heartbreaking, contrast to the chaos outside, forcing us to reflect on the nature of destruction and the enduring power of creation.

This iconic scene in The Last of Us II is a brilliant case in point.

But what's truly wonderful is that the appeal of a virtual gallery isn't limited to grim futures. Far from it, in fact! Many games, irrespective of their genre, incorporate these spaces for a myriad of reasons, allowing us to find art in unexpected places.

Think about exploration-focused games or intricate puzzle adventures. Here, a gallery might be more than just scenery; the art itself could be a vital clue, a piece of a larger puzzle, or simply an aesthetic delight designed to enhance the game's atmosphere. Then there are narrative-driven experiences, where a museum visit can be a quiet moment for character development, a backdrop for a pivotal plot reveal, or a space for deep contemplation that enriches the player's connection to the story. Even in ‘Walking Simulators’, where the journey and environment are paramount, a well-crafted art space can elevate the experience into something truly profound and thought-provoking.

But what is it that makes these digital sanctuaries so compelling? I think that it's the sheer freedom of exploration. Unlike real-world galleries with their closing times and bustling crowds, virtual ones offer a private, unhurried experience. You can linger over a piece for as long as you like, examining every detail without interruption. It's also a testament to the creativity of game developers, who can either meticulously recreate famous works or conjure entirely new artistic styles that seamlessly integrate into their game worlds. This allows for a unique form of digital preservation and artistic expression, turning games into interactive canvases in their own right.

Some of the videogames I’ve played which have included museums, galleries and other liminal spaces include:

  • Horizon Zero Dawn: Forbidden West - We see it just before you confront the final big bad

  • Elden Ring - The corrupted Moon Goddess in the library

  • The Last of Us 2 - The museum with dinosaurs and astronaut helmet

  • Enslaved: Odyssey to the West - The pyramid is a tribute to a pre-apocalypse world

  • The Evil Within 2 - The murderer’s art gallery

  • Deadly Premonition - Your police companion becomes a murderer’s art piece

  • Kairo - You are the exhibit in a brutalist Danielweski House of Leaves type maze. It reminds me of the Brutalist structure of the Southbank Centre

  • The Forever Labyrinth - Inkle’s strangely compelling Google Art and Culture project.

  • Zelda: A Link to the Past - The secret book hidden in the library and obtained by running into the shelves.

  • Decarnation - The art gallery with your sculpture that a creepy guy is examining a little too closely

Ultimately, whether they're a solemn nod to a lost world or a vibrant celebration of creativity, art galleries in video games offer a unique kind of escapism. They invite us to pause, to think, and to expand our own ideas, proving that the pursuit of art knows no bounds – not even the pixelated ones.

LINK: Folk Horror in Videogames

LINK: Japan: My Journey to the East

LINK: Summer, Fireworks, and My Body

LINK: The Power of Stories and How They Are Manipulated

LINK: The Message by Ta-Nahisi Coates - Book Review (and Some Thoughts)

LINK: The Anxious Generation: Book Review (and Some Thoughts)

LINK: Utopia for Realists- Book Review

LINK: Toxic: Women, Fame and the Noughties- Book Review (and Some Thoughts)

Puppet Princess - Cult Manga Review

Like many of us, I often find myself tumbling down the rabbit hole of obscure anime, and that's precisely how I stumbled upon the OVA Puppet Princess. Intrigued by the mysterious title, and with no prior knowledge, I decided to dive in and what I found was a surprisingly engaging, albeit brief journey.

The story of Puppet Princess centers on a seemingly naive and clumsy young woman, named Princess Rangiku, traversing a war-torn landscape, burdened by a massive box on her back. Her mission? To exact revenge on the  tyrannical Lord Karimata, who not only decimated her family but also seized her father's land and, more notably, his cherished collection of intricate giant Karakuri puppets. Along her arduous journey, she gains a ninja companion called Manajiri, and together they face a series of formidable adversaries, all leading up to the final confrontation with the 'big boss' to achieve her revenge.

Clocking in at a concise 42 minutes, Puppet Princess is a pretty good watch as it offers a unique fusion of steampunk aesthetics, traditional Japanese puppetry and some pretty dramatic fight action. Released in the early 2000s, it boasts a distinct visual style and beautifully blends traditional 2D animation with subtle applications of CGI, creating a visually rich experience. This is no surprise as it was produced by TMS and Toho (and another studio I don't know much about called Shogakukan).

While the premise is undeniably intriguing, the OVA's limited runtime presents a double-edged sword as the plot progresses at such a rapid clip that it leaves certain plot points feeling a bit rushed or underdeveloped. However, it's a testament to the creators that despite this constraint, Puppet Princess still manages to deliver a complete and satisfying narrative arc when a limited 6-part series may have suited it better.

So overall, if you're an anime enthusiast looking for something off the beaten path, with a unique visual flair and a quick but impactful story, Puppet Princess is definitely worth seeking out.

LINK: Japan: My Journey to the East

LINK: Please Save My Earth - Cult Manga Review

LINK: Thomas Was Alone Video Game Vinyl Soundtrack Review

LINK: Akira Soundtrack Vinyl Review

LINK: The Power of Stories and How They Are Manipulated

LINK: The Message by Ta-Nahisi Coates - Book Review (and Some Thoughts)

LINK: The Anxious Generation: Book Review (and Some Thoughts)

LINK: Utopia for Realists- Book Review

LINK: Toxic: Women, Fame and the Noughties- Book Review (and Some Thoughts)

Sister Midnight - Cult Film Review

For many of us, Bollywood isn't just a film industry; it's a foundational piece of our cultural identity, a vibrant, if sometimes predictable, force that has soundtracked our lives.

That deep-rooted familiarity is precisely what makes Sister Midnight such a startling and exhilarating experience—it’s the maverick film we desperately needed to shake the stagnation of mainstream Indian cinema.

At its core is Radhika Apte, an actress much like Emma Stone in that her career choices consistently show a more adventurous bent. Apte is fearless, choosing scripts that prioritize unusual vision over commercial safety and it is her presence here anchors a story that effortlessly mixes the deeply personal with the gloriously absurd.

The film takes the familiar cultural starting point of an arranged marriage and the modern malaise of ennui, and then violently shoves them off a cliff into the bizarre territory of vampirism and the raw, unflinching search for authenticity. These are waters few mainstream Bollywood productions dare to tread and the film is all the better for its audacity in portraying it in such an unusual and joie de vivre fashion.

What truly elevates Sister Midnight is its jaw-dropping aesthetic ambition. Writer-director Karan Kandhari's debut is a well-crafted visual feast, forging a true genre hybrid in Bollywood. There are elements of an introspective art film, a road movie, folk horror and stop-motion surrealism, all with gentle nods to Ozu, Kurosawa and Buster Keaton. Yup, it's a melange that works surprisingly well. This is all bolstered by an expertly placed soundtrack. This combination of styles and substance isn't just experimental; it’s extraordinary—it tells a story that literally could not be told any other way. Even as the film twists through its darkest and strangest corners, it never loses its pulse.

Sister Midnight is a brilliant, unsettling, and ultimately joyous experience. If there is any justice, this film won't just do well—it will establish itself as a genuine cult classic, carving out a new, surreal and authentic path for Bollywood’s future. Everyone likes masala films but there is always room for an original palette cleanser like this.

LINK: Japan: My Journey to the East

LINK: Please Save My Earth - Cult Manga Review

LINK: Thomas Was Alone Video Game Vinyl Soundtrack Review

LINK: Akira Soundtrack Vinyl Review

LINK: The Power of Stories and How They Are Manipulated

LINK: The Message by Ta-Nahisi Coates - Book Review (and Some Thoughts)

LINK: The Anxious Generation: Book Review (and Some Thoughts)

LINK: Utopia for Realists- Book Review

LINK: Toxic: Women, Fame and the Noughties- Book Review (and Some Thoughts)

Lynchian: The Spell of David Lynch - Book Review (and Some Personal Thoughts)

I am a bit of a fan of John Higgs, having read all of his previous books, which include The KLF: Chaos, Magic and the Band Who Burned One Million Pounds, The Future Starts Here: An Optimistic Guide to What Comes Next, William Blake vs. The World, I Have America Surrounded: The Life of Timothy Leary, Love and Let Die: Bond, the Beatles and the British Psyche and Dr. Who: Exterminate/ Regenerate.

I loved reading all these books as the subject matter Higgs covers in each is so distinct; his work often takes many turns that have often bamboozled me, yet kept me invested in his concepts of "Reality Tunnels" and "Circumambient Narratives" and the like. I've always thought that Higgs seems to be a Humanist at heart, and he gets to the core questions we all ask: What is our purpose, and how does this affect the narrative we tell ourselves?

Higgs starts with the outpouring of love that spread around the world, both online and in the real world, when David Lynch's death was announced. Public memorial sites popped up in a couple of places, including Bob's Big Boy restaurant, and items as varied as doughnuts, coffee cups, photos of Laura Palmer, and models of the baby from Eraserhead were left by fans. These spontaneous outpourings of appreciation for a lived life are rare, but some of the most prominent in my lifetime have been for Princess Diana, David Bowie and Keith Flint. Lynch affected people profoundly who felt connected through his works, be it film, TV, art, or music. He was a true Renaissance Man who lived the Art Life, and Higgs examines this.

He begins with a quick biography, highlighting the story of the naked, bloodied woman he and his brother saw in their youth in a small town in Boise, Idaho. The image of a beautiful, abused woman would be a motif that carries through much of his work, as was his idealized, charmed, white picket fence childhood life, but all through a mirror darkly.

Higgs looks at how Transcendental Meditation (TM) was something Lynch practiced, but it wasn't what gave him his creativity, as he had started filming Eraserhead a year before discovering TM. Rather, the practice helped him to realize that you had to go with the flow and that not everything has to make sense, as life often doesn't make sense—life was numinous. Lynch showed the darkness in the world but believed in the beauty of existence; this is what underlines the Lynchian Cinematic Universe. So, "In Heaven, everything is fine," indeed, mash potato-cheeked Lady Behind the Radiator!

Higgs looks at Lynch's thought process and doesn't pretend to understand his methodology but states rather simply that Lynch liked the ideas he had and often went intuitively with his feelings rather than some high-brow process. To quote early Simpsons:

His dreamlike logic and sense of playfulness didn't come from his meditation and dreams but more from his waking dreamlike moments when he let his mind wonder. He was able to settle the "chattering monkey" of the mind and let his subconscious take over, something many screenwriters cannot do as they want a clear narrative with a traditional five-story arc.

Lynch's success following Wild At Heart and Twin Peaks is considered, as is the backlash after Fire Walk With Me. However, it has been reappraised and is considered a masterpiece, especially post #MeToo, where abuse against women and power play has been much more openly talked about. Lynch continued unabated and continued to produce wonderful work that still pushed boundaries. Lynch himself became a bit of a brand; people bought into him and his product, but it was not for everyone—and that's okay.

Lynch's work wasn't without its issues for some: he didn't feature many Black actors or LGBTQ+ people in his works at all. Lynch himself stated that he was not overly concerned with prejudice, identity politics, or other culture wars but rather larger themes of humanity like "What is evil?" and "Where does the ill that people do come from?" Whilst I get what he was saying, I also understand that representation matters, and sometimes you need to bring people into the fold of your wider-themed work. However, we do know that he was a friend to the trans community when he had Agent Cole (played by himself) say to trans character Denise Bryson (played by David Duchovny), "I told those clowns [at the FBI] to fix your hearts or die."

Higgs then looks at the Lynchian motifs that occur throughout his work including: coffee, doughnuts, the black and white chevron floor, lush red curtains, flickering lights, the buzz of electricity, doppelgängers, and trees. The chevron floor particularly hints at the Lynchian Cinematic Universe.

The penultimate chapter looks at Twin Peaks: The Return and the complexities of making it. It was a bold move on Showtime's part, and it really paid off. Lynch mastered his form and distilled all his experience into an 18-hour movie that meandered and riveted in equal measure.

Higgs is an excellent writer, and his skill in conveying a complex life with verve and energy is compelling. The fact that he presents Lynch, flaws and all, as a true pioneer who sought the Art Life and lived for his work is a true gift.

I would highly recommend this book, as this is a singular life lived, and we may never know the like again so who better than Higgs to cover it?

LINK- Twin Peaks: The Return Series Review

LINK- Secret History of Twin Peaks: Book Review

LINK- Twin Peaks: The Final Dossier Book Review

LINK- The Midnight Library and the Idea That You Can’t Go Home Again

LINK- Ulysses 31 Retro Soundtrack Review

LINK- Blood, Sweat and Pixels- Book Review

LINK- The Offworld Collection- Book Review

LINK- Shadow of the Colossus- Book Review

LINK- Japan: My Journey to the East

Ginger Snaps - Cult Film Review

There are some films that just stick with you, even if you've only ever caught glimpses of them. For me, one such film has always been Ginger Snaps, now considered a bit of a Canadian cult horror gem. Released at the turn of the millennium, the film became a whispered legend among a couple of my friends. However, for years, my experience with it was frustratingly fragmented. Back in the late 90s, my friend Carlena had a knack for finding the most obscure and strange film, she was doing a Film Studies degree after all, so her house was our unofficial cinema, a place where we'd huddle around a flickering TV, armed with popcorn and a healthy dose of teenage bravado. Ginger Snaps was one of those VHS tapes that made the rounds. I remember catching unsettling scenes – a bloody nose, a tail transformation hand, the intense dynamic between the two sisters – but never the full narrative. Life, as it does, always seemed to interrupt. Now, nearly 25 years later, I've sought to rectify this oversight in my filmography. Armed with a proper streaming service (Amazon Prime) and an uninterrupted evening, I settled in to watch Ginger Snaps from start to finish. Now, let me tell you, it was every bit as good, if not better, than those fragmented memories suggested.

For the uninitiated (or those with fogged remembrances), Ginger Snaps follows the morbidly fascinated, death-obsessed sisters Brigitte (Emily Perkins) and Ginger (Katharine Isabelle). Their pact to die together before hitting sixteen is violently interrupted when Ginger is attacked by a werewolf on the night of her first period. What follows is a brilliant, bloody, and darkly humorous exploration of lycanthropy as a metaphor for the horrors of puberty, female adolescence, and the terrifying changes the body undergoes.

What truly elevates Ginger Snaps beyond a typical creature feature is its sharp, intelligent script. It doesn't shy away from the grotesque, but it uses the horror to amplify its themes. The bond between Brigitte and Ginger is the beating heart of the film, a complex tapestry of co-dependency, loyalty, and burgeoning resentment as Ginger's transformation pushes their relationship to its breaking point. Perkins and Isabelle deliver phenomenal performances, embodying their roles with a raw authenticity that makes their bizarre predicament feel eerily real.

The practical effects, a hallmark of horror from that era, hold up remarkably well, adding a visceral punch that modern green screen and CGI often misses. The transformation sequences are genuinely unsettling, a slow, painful unraveling of humanity that mirrors the awkward, often painful experience of growing up. But while it's undeniably a horror film, it's also laced with a biting wit and a surprising amount of heart.

Finally seeing Ginger Snaps in its entirety was like finding the missing pieces to a captivating, gruesome jigsaw puzzle. It's a film that was ahead of its time in many ways, tackling feminist themes within the horror genre long before it became a more common trend. Sure, it is of its time so some of the dialogue is a bit too edge lordy and clunky as was the style at the time ('On the rag' and 'He wants to get down your pants, stupid!') and the casual way a drug dealing dropout can attend a girl's PE lesson and talk to a student does not show the teaching profession in a good light, but it's smart, stylish, and genuinely unsettling, proving that horror doesn't need a massive budget to be impactful. In fact, many film genres, especially horror, can actively benefit from the economy of design due to budgetary constraints.

If, like me, you've only ever experienced Ginger Snaps in tantalizing fragments, or if you've never seen it at all, I implore you to give it a full watch. It's a cult classic for a reason, a howling good time that's as relevant today as it was when Ginger first started to shed her skin.