The Wolf of Wall Street

Starring: Leonardo DiCaprio, Jonah Hill, Margot Robbie

Directed by: Martin Scorsese

Written by: Terence Winters (screenplay), Jordan Belfort (book)

The fallout from Black Monday was never going to stop Jordan Belfort from getting rich. In fact, he stumbled on a way to do it much quicker, much easier, and much less legally. Over the next few years, his firm, Stratton Oakmont, became one of the most successful and expansive firms on Wall Street, and he became astonishingly wealthy. But greed, drugs, and dogged FBI agents are a fateful combination…

Given the economic climate of the last five years or so, it’s perhaps a surprise that this film hasn’t already come along (leaving aside the bidding war for production, of course). Despite being set in the late 80’s through the 90’s, it’s hard to escape the thought that it is still highly applicable and relevant today, detailing as it does corruption and staggering greed on Wall Street.

Indeed, you could probably read a great deal into the current global – or at least Western – state of mind with the fact that the most controversial part of the film is the perceived apologetic treatment of Wall Street, rather than the copious substance abuse, the shameless objectification of women (on the part of the characters, not the film-makers), or the fact that it has broken the record for onscreen use of the f-word.

In truth, the film does not apologise for bankers, or even treat them with anything like sympathy. It simply presents incident without explicit comment. Any sympathy is in the eye of the beholder, and really, no right thinking viewer could walk away from the film feeling anything other than horror at the Wall Street lifestyle (although perhaps not surprisingly, journalists watching the film with bankers have reported a great deal of sympathy and approval for Jordan Belfort, the titular Wolf). The fact that it is based on fact, not a (complete) work of fiction borders on the terrifying.

However, it is also funny. Very funny. Painfully funny at times, which is presumably where the misconceived perception of sympathy comes from. It is perfectly possible to laugh at – and make no mistake, you are laughing at, not with, the characters for most if not all of the time – repellent people if it is handled well, and it is all handled extremely well. Key to that is, of course, Leonardo DiCaprio’s central performance, and he is truly outstanding. Belfort is a magnetic, charismatic individual despite his lack of any sort of moral compass, the kind of person you can’t help but love to hate; it is a testament to DiCaprio’s craft that he is never less than engaging despite his complete absence of redeeming features – there are a few hints of a potential better side, but they are easily interpreted in a more cynical light as well. He is a cinematic supernova, gradually encompassing all before him through force of sheer personality, and it is glorious to behold.

It does leave the fine cast around him somewhat in the shade, but they are worth paying attention to. Jonah Hill is one of the most notable, a chaotic mess as Jordan’s second in command and the closest thing to a best friend he has; addled by drugs and his own little quirks (marrying his cousin, for instance…), and with a hair trigger temper and reckless streak that amounts for a great deal of the film’s conflict, one way or another, his is the sort of role that would in any other film be tailor made for scene stealing, but here is just part of the madness. He is important though as one of two people inspiring Belfort down his deviant path, the other being Matthew Maconaughey’s senior stockbroker. Although this is more of a glorified cameo, he makes an indelible impression both on the film and on Belfort himself.

The main supporting role though goes to Margot Robbie, as Belfort’s second wife Naomi, also known as his Duchess. Robbie takes the character beyond her beer model background to provide the closest thing the film has to a conscience, although she is more nuanced than token nice person. Forceful and dynamic, she comes the closest to capturing the screen back from DiCaprio, which is no mean feat. It is certainly more than his main nemesis, FBI agent Denham (Kyle Chandler) manages; although Chandler gives a perfectly respectable performance, the character is a little under-developed, a little too one note to really engage as a worthy foe, although their initial face off on Jordan’s yacht is great fun.

The whole package is tied together beautifully by Scorsese, giving ample evidence in support of his reputation as one of the great directors. Whether a shot of Belfort leaving the house, trying to descend a small flight of stairs while addled by drugs, or – in probably the most unexpected scene of the film – tracking a boat through a storm that brings to mind the word Biblical, it’s all stunning to look at and perfectly choreographed. Most impressively, the three hour running time flies by, to the extent that I genuinely didn’t realise how long I’d been watching.

For all the excess though, for all the spectacle, for all the belly laughs, it’s a film that will leave you thinking. Belfort’s central tenet with his schemes is that they will always work, because people want to get rich, and although there’s nothing as simple as a moral to this story, there are moments particularly at the end where you might be wondering if the suggestion of civilian complicity in Belfort’s is purely the characters view, or whether Scorsese has his own theories. It’s something to think about beyond the sex and drugs and delicious one-liners, but even if you don’t engage or agree with that side, you need to see this film; if nothing else, and if there’s any justice, it’s going to be the one to get DiCaprio his Oscar.

Sherlock: series 3

Starring: Benedict Cumberbatch, Martin Freeman, Amanda Abbington, Rupert Graves, Lars Mikkelson

Written by: Mark Gatiss, Steven Moffat, Stephen Thompson, based on stories by Arthur Conan Doyle

Directed by: Colm McCarthy, Nick Hurran

Two years. Two years since Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss left us reeling with Moriarty’s suicide and Sherlock faking his death. Conspiracy theories flew thick and fast, some of them plausible, many of them ridiculous. It would be fair to say that the third series of ‘Sherlock’ was, at least in some quarters, the most eagerly anticipated televisual event of 2014 – which will presumably leave some people feeling pretty bereft for the rest of the year. More or less everyone who had seen it wanted to know how it had been done.

Episode one, ‘The Empty Hearse’, kicked off in dramatic style with a recreation of Sherlock’s suicide – the detective bungeeing off the roof of of St. Barts Hospital, only to crash back through a window to walk off into the night while Moriarty’s corpse is disguised and put in his place. Thrilling, mostly logical if a little outlandish (although once Derren Brown appeared, eyebrows were raised), it was also a complete lie, an in-universe example of some of the fan speculation. However, it wasn’t long before Sherlock was back for real, his brother Mycroft (Mark Gatiss) retrieving him from two years spent undercover bringing down Moriarty’s network. There was a terrorist plot centring on London, and only the Great Detective could possibly sort it out.

However, there was no rush to get to the plot; the real interest was in how John Watson was going to react to the news, and initially at least, the answer was ‘not well’. To be fair, having your dead best friend show up in a bad disguise to interrupt an attempted proposal is bound to inspire some heated feelings. What followed was frankly an acting masterclass from all concerned; Freeman has perfected the portrayal of anguished confusion and quietly incandescent rage, while Cumberbatch was surprisingly touching as a self-confessed sociopath slowly realising that other people might not see his actions in quite the positive light that he did, and that he had hurt his friend immensely. Raising it beyond a well-executed but in many ways standard scene of bitter reunion though was a streak of comedy that bordered on slapstick, as John’s reaction became ever more physically aggressive. It culminated in Sherlock sitting in a bus-stop, clutching a bloody nose courtesy of Watson’s best headbutt. The scene also served as a fine introduction to Amanda Abbington’s Mary Morstan, the future Mrs Watson; she acquitted herself admirably, her easy chemistry with both actors a pleasure to watch.

This was fortunate, as character interaction formed the bulk of the episode, the actual mystery being very much a secondary concern. There were some individual thrills and chills – a stunningly realised explosion at the Houses of Parliament and John’s near-death experience beneath a bonfire were standout scenes – but the core of the episode was the rejuvenated partnership, and a fine core it is. It wasn’t an instant return to the normal run of things, John being understandably aggrieved, and Sherlock spending some quality time with the downtrodden Molly Hooper (Louise Brealey, continuing a string of understated, affecting appearances in the show). Nonetheless, it was a funny, engaging, and despite the distance of the actual plot, often dramatic start to the series.

The second episode, ‘The Sign of Three’, was a complete surprise. In keeping with its predecessor, the mystery was very much a background affair for the bulk of the episode, and even when brought to the fore it was to emphasise and expand the Sherlock/John bromance. On reflection, this was perhaps a good thing; I remain to be convinced that even the tightest belt would both stop you noticing someone stabbing you and keep the would compressed to such an extent that you aren’t affected until disrobing. Questions of logic and medical realities aside though, the case was actually a far more interesting one than in ‘The Empty Hearse’, and also gave one of the best showcases yet for Sherlock’s brand of deductive reasoning.

But of course, given the theme of the episode – the wedding of John and Mary – characterisation and interaction was once again very much the order of the day. All fine and dandy; the real surprise in this episode was that it was hilarious. Take a self-described high functioning sociopath and give him best man duties, and hilarity was always going to ensue. The sight of Sherlock Holmes reduced to a deer in the headlights by a crowd expecting a knockout best man’s speech was glorious; only slightly less amusing was the sight of him three sheets to the wind after a couple of hours on the town for John’s stag night, allegedly meticulously organised by Sherlock down to the last drop of alcohol. Despite the merriment and sentiment though, the episode ended on a bittersweet note; John and Mary celebrating their pregnancy while Sherlock left the wedding early and alone.

And then came episode three, ‘His Last Vow’. Riffing on ‘His Last Bow’, the canonical final Holmes story, which sees the detective retiring to Somerset to keep bees, it wasn’t unreasonable to expect a rather more sombre offering, particularly given that it came primarily from the pen of Steven Moffat, that well known scribe of all things designed to horrify and traumatise (see: ‘Jekyll’, most of his writing for ‘Doctor Who’, and selected episodes of ‘Coupling’). Sure enough, this was the most plot heavy episode since the second series, and certainly the most serious. Detailing Sherlock’s efforts to bring down Charles Augustus Magnussen (Mikkelson), a media baron and blackmailer, it started with Sherlock in a squalid drugs den, took us through his brutal manipulation of an innocent woman – played for laughs, and she seemed ok with it in the end, but nonetheless appalling behaviour – revealed the lovely Mary as a former assassin perfectly willing to shoot Sherlock if necessary, and finished with Sherlock taking matters into his own hands and killing Magnussen to put a stop to him. That seemed to be that for shocking twists, but the episode finished with a viral meme broadcast across the entire country; Jim Moriaty, asking if we’d missed him. Which given that the last time we saw him, he’d stuck a gun in his mouth and pulled the trigger, was unexpected to say the least…

The highlight of the episode was a bravura sequence in the middle which showed Sherlock’s infamous mind palace in greater detail than ever before, as he worked out the best way to survive a bullet wound, but there was a lot else to admire too. Abbington brought new depth to Mary with such skill that the fairly outlandish disclosure of her past made perfect sense (and the scene in which the truth came out was a wonderful piece of television too). That plot thread also gave room for Freeman’s best performance of the series, perfectly executing the contradictory feelings he spent much of the episode riddled with. In addition, Mikkelson’s Magnussen was a truly outstanding creation; Moffat and Gatiss had to go to great lengths to create a villain who would match up to their take on Moriaty, and while Magnussen wasn’t a charismatic, scenery chewing criminal mastermind, he was a thoroughly repellent individual, who within two scenes had inspired more loathing than Moriarty managed in six episodes of mass-murder and mind games.

However, as much praise as the series deserves, there were downsides. The major one is the lack of a coherent plot thread. While there’s plenty of scope with the character for simply adapting the stories while putting modern spins on them, Moffat and Gatiss have taken the understandable if somewhat brave decision to expand a great deal; backstory, character development and the like. That was reflected in the plots of the first two series. Moriarty turned out to have had a hand in all three of the cases in series one, while he became a much more explicit force in series two. Series three…hasn’t really had anything to replace it. Magnussun had a brief appearance in ‘The Empty Hearse’, albeit only his eyes, but beyond that the overall theme of the series has been the relationship between John and Sherlock. And while that’s fine, and there needed to be some time spent on that due to the way series two finished, we have already had nine hours of the two of them together. We don’t need much more evidence of their undying friendship, even if it is done really, really well. The only significant development there was that we now know Sherlock is perfectly willing to kill someone if it comes to protecting John, and even that could have been deduced by now.

On the one hand, it’s a bold decision to consciously side-line the mysteries and deductions in a detective show in favour of the characters, and supports their claim that ‘Sherlock’ is “a show about a detective, not a detective show”. Equally, if you want a show about character interaction, you could do worse than leave those characters in the hands of Moffat and Gatiss. Moffat’s skill with witty but meaningful dialogue is more or less his trademark, and Gatiss is certainly his equal with this particular show. Cumberbatch and Freeman are an outstanding central duo, to boot, and they have risen to the different challenges this series has provided admirably. On the other hand though, making a show about Sherlock Holmes and putting the puzzles to the background would be rather like adapting Harry Potter without magic, and for all the excellent performances, for all the sparkling dialogue and individually brilliant scenes, the first two series managed to do all of that while at the same time having compelling plots. Cutting the plots back doesn’t seem to have left room for major improvement in any other area, although in fairness you could argue there wasn’t an awful lot of room for improvement. 

In the end, as good as the series was, I am left with the feeling that it was simply marking time, getting Sherlock back in the game and ready to drop the Moriarty bombshell. We can assume that the planned fourth and fifth series will be a marked improvement on that score, assuming the explanation for that cliffhanger is in any way satisfactory. Here’s hoping we won’t have to wait another two years to find out.

Steelheart; by Brandon Sanderson

Ten years ago, Calamity came. It was a burst in the sky that gave ordinary men and women extraordinary powers. The awed public started calling them Epics. But Epics are no friend of man. With incredible gifts came the desire to rule. And to rule man you must crush his will. Nobody fights the Epics...nobody but the Reckoners. A shadowy group of ordinary humans, they spend their lives studying Epics, finding their weaknesses, and then assassinating them. And David wants in. He wants Steelheart - the Epic who is said to be invincible. The Epic who killed David's father. For years, like the Reckoners, David's been studying, and planning - and he has something they need. Not an object, but an experience.

He's seen Steelheart bleed.

And he wants revenge.

One of my favourite authors tackling the superhero genre? I was sold from the start, I won’t lie. Sanderson isn’t quite a big name on the same scale as, say, George R.R. Martin, or Neil Gaiman, but he is both extremely prolific and very talented (thirteen full novels and several short stories since his debut, Elantris, was published in 2005), and the superhero genre is the perfect fit for his style. He is well known amongst connoisseurs of fantasy literature for his ‘laws’, all of which focus on the use of magic in fantasy – broadly speaking, magic must have limitations, there must be rules, it must affect the world around it. In many ways, they are fine ideas. It’s a common problem within the genre to find that conflict is resolved by brute force or deus ex machina rather than intelligent plotting, and I am all for avoiding that wherever possible. On the other hand though, Sanderson’s magic rarely feels magical to me. Everything is so rigorously explained that there is little room for wonder, however awesome the scenes he crafts might be, and his magical characters have always felt more like people with super powers rather than wizards. In theory then, this tendency would pay dividends with an actual superhero novel.

However, his previous YA series, ‘Alcatraz vs the Evil Librarians’, was distinctly disappointing (see here for details), so I went in cautiously. Happily, ‘Steelheart’ is a far better book than any of the four ‘Alcatraz…’ instalments.

For a start, despite being set in a dystopian future where you can literally be killed for looking at someone and heroism and nobility seem to have been almost genetically eradicated, it’s fun. This is actually a quality of all of Sanderson’s work, but whereas the ‘Alcatraz’ series took it to rather wacky extremes, the fun here is smoother, more fitting. Side character Cody’s stories are always entertaining, and the main character David has a line in metaphors that would make an English teacher scream and the Eleventh Doctor applaud. More importantly, the plot is an entertaining, caper-esque thrill ride, and Sanderson has always had a nice touch with an action scene; several moments in ‘Steelheart’ had me grinning with glee at the tightly controlled spectacle on the page.

In addition, it’s set in an intriguing universe. The Epics largely go beyond the normal superpowers familiar from comicbooks, although Steelheart is an obvious Superman knock-off, with a few crucial differences even before taking into account his psychosis. There are a few intriguing twists along the way (and a few predictable ones, but you can’t have everything), and some good plot-lines to follow up for the rest of the series. As a bonus, it can be fun trying to spot all the comic related shout outs over the course of the story.

However, it isn’t all good. Aside from the aforementioned metaphor mangling, David’s only other character trait of note is being obsessed with revenge, and as a result he can come across as being rather flat. To be fair, learning that there is more to life than revenge is the thrust of his arc over the course of the book, so presumably this is a deliberate choice that will be smoothed out over subsequent instalments rather than a fault of the writing, but thus far he isn’t the most engaging character. The same can be said for Steelheart himself, who despite being the entire point of the book and more or less a god within the confines of the setting is actually a very underwhelming, generic supervillain. The secondary villains are far more interesting though, so it’s not a complete loss on that score.

More importantly, as much fun as the book is, it was also fun when Sanderson wrote more or less the same story in ‘The Final Empire’, the first instalment of his bestselling Mistborn series. It was also somewhat better. The plot was generic both times (orphan joins up with gang of misfits to overthrow an omnipotent tyrant), but ‘Steelheart’ is not as fleshed out as the earlier book.

All in all then, a highly entertaining read, and a lot of promise to come, but a must read? That will probably depend on how big a fan of Sanderson and superheroes you are.

Review of the Year: 2013

Film:

I could go into obscene amounts of detail in this section, but I’ll confine myself to a few notable highs and lows. On the highs, and kicking the year off with surprising quality, was rom-com ‘Warm Bodies’, which retold ‘Romeo and Juliet’ in post zombie apocalypse style, and Romeo dying long before the start of the story instead of at the end. A sharp script which managed to do voice-over right, and great central performances from Nicholas Hoult and Teresa Palmer grounded the outlandish concept. An unconventional date movie, but one worth watching.

Elsewhere in movies that you defied obvious expectations, Guillimero del Toro’s ‘Pacific Rim’ was a triumph of spectacle, but managed to secrete a surprising amount of substance into a film about giant robots beating up bigger monsters. It wasn’t quite as original as some would have you believe, essentially being Power Rangers versus Godzilla, but it had characters with depth, a coherently constructed universe, outstanding art design and, of course, giant robots using oil tankers as offensive weapons, which automatically makes it one of the best films ever made.

On the comic book front, Marvel’s output in 2013 was outstanding. ‘Iron Man 3’ wrapped up (maybe) that particular arc of the wider franchise, and while the Iron Man films have always had a broad streak of comedy, which was exacerbated wonderfully by Shane Black taking the helm, it was actually a surprisingly sombre, thoughtful film, and was a worthy finale to the series. “Thor: The Dark World” was perhaps even better, and definitely funnier. Christopher Ecclestone was wasted as the villainous Malekith, hidden behind too much make up and with zero characterisation, but the laugh rate, the stonking action, and first rate performances carried the day. The inevitable third film will no doubt be a must see.

They were certainly better than the other big superhero film, ‘Man of Steel’. A more controversial entry, largely due to the ending, which saw Superman break a man’s neck, I felt it for the most part a highly entertaining and surprisingly clever film, but one that was occasionally bent under the attempt to make the character ‘relevant’ to a modern audience, not to mention some appallingly heavy-handed Messianic imagery. Opinion on it will probably vary depending on how much of a fan of Superman you are, but it’s worth watching to make up your mind if nothing else.

To wrap up the blockbuster overview, and a comfortable winner of film of the year in my book, Alfonso Cuarón’s ‘Gravity’ was the single most thrilling cinematic experience I have ever had, and a welcome reminder of what Sandra Bullock can do when given a decent role. The story of one woman’s attempt to survive an appalling accident while servicing the Hubble telescope, it was all at once horrifying, awe-inspiring, heart-wrenching and visually spectacular, to the extent that even Mark Kermode, who has devoted entire swathes of his blogs, radio shows and books to the horrors of 3D, admitted that it was worth spending ninety minutes wearing silly glasses for the privilege of seeing it done so well. Whether it will have the same impact on smaller screens is subject to testing, but that’s a mild concern with an astonishing film.

If it hadn’t been for ‘Gravity’, film of the year would probably have gone to ‘The Place Beyond the Pines’, perhaps best known for Ryan Gosling’s quietly intense performance as a stunt rider turned bank robber, but worth seeing for a whole host of other reasons. Despite its reputation, it isn’t actually Gosling’s film; he’s very much part of an ensemble, and is really only in it for a third of the film or so. If you’re looking for a film of his though, go for this over the over-rated ‘Drive’. But you should also watch it for some excellent direction from Derek Cianfrance, and a couple of tender, heartbreaking performances from Bradley Cooper and Dane deHaan. Melancholic but hopeful, and unlucky to have been outshone by ‘Gravity’.

On the downside, I shall gloss over the truly terrible ‘Mortal Instruments’ to mention ‘Oz: the Great and Powerful’ and ‘Jack the Giant Slayer’, both reasonably entertaining in a fairly mindless sort of way, but falling far short of the level of quality one might expect from the source ideas and creative teams involved. ‘Star Trek Into Darkness’ was great fun for eighty percent of its run time, but crippled by appallingly lazy writing, while Neill Blomkamp’s ‘Elysium’ was simply a couple of hours of being told that rich people are bastards.

Television:

I’ve probably watched too many TV shows this year, but an awful lot of them have been fantastic. Sadly, many of the best have been old(ish), and watched on DVD; ‘Breaking Bad’ is without question the best thing I’ve watched this year, but that was the first series…which I started the day after the final episode of the show ever was broadcast. Great timing. Anyway, it is absolute must-see television. Bryan Cranston is outstanding as the terminally ill, and morally misguided Walter White, and the whole show just oozes intelligence and class. A close second was ‘Community’, a very funny American comedy set in a community college, and revolving around a crowd of somewhat familiar misfits. A nice blend of laughs are to be found, ranging from slapstick to verbal banter nearly as slick as the master of the genre, Dr. Frasier Crane. Well worth checking out.

However, in terms of television actually made this year, it has been a decidedly mixed bag. ‘Doctor Who’ got off to a very shaky start, with more than a couple of duff episodes, including a surprisingly disappointing entry from Neil Gaiman. Matters weren’t helped by a lacklustre storyline revolving around Jenna Coleman’s ‘Impossible Girl’, Clara Oswald, a fine performance in desperate need of some characterisation from the production team. However, a few cracking scripts, an outstanding final twist, and Matt Smith’s always wonderful performance carried the day, and then it was time for the 50^th anniversary. ‘Day of the Doctor’ was an absolute triumph, blending comedy, time-travel, and moral debates about genocide into one of the most entertaining hours of television in a long time. And then came ‘Time of the Doctor’, which did everything ‘Day…’ had done, and did it even better, while managing to answer more or less every hanging plot thread from the last three or four years. Matt Smith’s regeneration was magnificent, and nearly had me in tears; as an unashamed fanboy, I’m going to miss him. But Peter Capaldi is looking pretty impressive already, and the prospect of a full series with him is very enticing.

On a related note, one-off drama of the year was ‘An Adventure in Space and Time’, Mark Gatiss’ dramatization of the origins of ‘Doctor Who’, which was superbly written and acted, and positively heart-wrenching.

Elsewhere, the BBC also triumphed with David Mitchell and Robert Webb’s new series, ‘Ambassadors’. The tale of two ambassadors in the fictional state of Tzbekistan, trying to walk the line between moral certainty and the demands of the malevolent POD (Matthew MacFayden, in no way inspired by Peter Mandelson), it was reminiscent of ‘Yes, Minister’ at its best, but surprisingly more focused on drama than laughs, for the most part.  

However, the show of 2013 was without question, for me, ‘Orphan Black’. Telling the story of Sarah Manning, a young woman trying to escape the mistakes of her past and reconnect with her young daughter, it was a thrilling, intelligent and twisting drama. It had me hooked from the first scene: Sarah at a train station, watching in horror as another woman throws herself in front of a train. A shocking enough thing to see, but when the dead woman is a perfect doppelganger of you…the eventual twist was fairly predictable, at least to watchers familiar with genre tropes, but the execution was more or less perfect. Particular praise must go to Tatiana Maslany as Sarah – and four or five other characters within the series, each one of them so nuanced and varied that you could have difficulty believing it’s the same person. Series two will be starting in April, and I cannot wait.

On the side of the disappointments though, there are two entries. Marvel’s ‘Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D’ came with a lot of expectation attached, partly due to the weight of the franchise, and partly because of the Whedon name attached to it. It quickly became apparent that it wasn’t going to be the spectacular super-hero fest people had wanted, which was fair enough; most of the Marvel heroes would either be too complicated or expensive to recreate on a television budget, or would work better as their own franchise, at least initially. More serious was the lack of decent characterisation and coherent tone. Although the quality did pick up as the show progressed, it never quite rose above solidly entertaining, which isn’t quite good enough for a seemingly key development of one of the biggest franchises around. In any other year, it would likely have been the most disappointing show of the year, but fortunately for Marvel, we’ve also had series three of ‘Homeland’.

The first series was outstanding, a thrilling, engaging, morally ambiguous tour de force that gripped you by the scruff of your neck and would not let go. Series two was disappointing, reduced to a more bland spy thriller, but still had spark, and finished with an outstanding few episodes that re-ignited interest with a bang. Series three…well, it’s never a good sign when a show that has been so focused on two characters, both in terms of the plot and their developing romance, has one half of that duo off screen for two-thirds of the series. Damian Lewis’ Brody has gone from a terrorist who made you sympathise and support him to a wishy-washy drug addict with no real purpose in life, so you can understand why he was out of focus. It might not have mattered so much if Carrie’s (Claire Danes) storyline was more believable; sadly, while ‘Homeland’ has never made claims to rigorous adherence to reality, in series three it completely abandoned such concepts as common sense and logic, preferring to spend more time on the teen angst of Brody’s daughter. True, she has more reason to whine than pretty much any other teenager on television, and Morgan Sayler gave her best performances of the show so far, but that’s not why anyone is watching the show. Frankly, the majority of the series was poor, and I only kept watching in the hopes of a last minute save akin to the second series. Alas, it was not to be, and I won’t be bothering with the inevitable and seemingly pointless fourth series.

Books:

As with television, I have to say that the best book I read this year was not actually written in 2013. Nonetheless, I can’t write this without mentioning ‘Wolf Hall’, by Hilary Mantel, an enthralling fictionalisation, although as far as I can tell thoroughly researched and accurate telling, of the early life of Thomas Cromwell, architect of Henry VIII’s divorce and the Break with Rome. Engaging throughout, beautifully written, and detailing a fascinating period of history through lesser known personal details (and presumably a few embellishments), it’s an outstanding book, and if you have any interest in history or simply good literature, you owe it to yourself to read it as soon as humanly possible.

However, in books actually released during 2013, the clear winner was Neil Gaiman’s ‘The Ocean at the End of the Lane’. Now, I’m a big fan of Gaiman anyway, and I’ll admit to a certain fondness for any book that results in an all too brief meeting with him, but it really is beautiful. It’s a simple story, really; a young boy meets a slightly older girl and befriends her and her family. Except slightly older is really very, very old, and her grandmother remembers the Big Bang. And then an Eldritch Abomination hitches a lift back to our world in the boy’s foot, and proceeds to try and take over the world. And then reality starts to die. Well, it is a fantasy story. For all that though, the best moments of the book are the sections that focus on the boy’s life. Gaiman perfectly captures and recreates the feeling of being a slightly lonely child, and how even the most ordinary things can inspire wonder. It might not be Gaiman’s best work – it’s always going to be hard to beat ‘The Sandman’ – but it’s probably the most accessible, and by far and away the most heartfelt. It’s already won at least one book of the year award, and if there’s any justice it will win a whole lot more.

There were others, of course. Stephen King’s rather belated sequel to ‘The Shining’, ‘Doctor Sleep’ was a pleasant surprise. Horror isn’t really my genre of choice anyway, and what I’ve read of his previous work, admittedly very little, hasn’t especially grabbed me. Having read ‘Doctor Sleep’ though, I came away feeling I may have misjudged him; it’s a much more mature, thoughtful work than I was expecting, as much about the dangers of addiction as the dangers of soul-eating, motorhome dwelling child killers. And while it didn’t quite have me scared to go to sleep with the lights off, fans of chilled spines will be more than satisfied. I also enjoyed ‘The Red House’, by Mark Haddon of ‘The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time’ fame. A very different book to his debut, focussing on two siblings and their respective families, on a week’s holiday after a bereavement. It’s a far from cheerful book – estranged family members, unhappy marriages, teen angst of so many varieties, and at least one affair all contribute to a rather stressful holiday, and that’s really just the tip of the iceberg. However, while the distinct shortage of particularly likeable characters does somewhat hamper proceedings, the writing is spot on, and the book has an uncomfortable familiarity to it that really makes it hit home.

Returning to fantasy, Kate Griffin returned with another instalment in her urban fantasy universe, thus far comprising two series: the Matthew Swift novels and the Magicals Anonymous series. ‘The Glass God’ is the second of the latter series, and related the return of trainee shaman and social worker Sharon Li, not to mention the imminent destruction of London by an ancient plague spirit and, of course, a new divinity constructed from glass. The major strength of Griffin’s works has always been the world in which they take place; the magical additions to London are so well thought out and constructed that it never feels anything less than believable, and any subsequent visit to London is bound to feel a little disappointing afterwards. However, as yet, Sharon Li and her co-stars haven’t quite captured the imagination as much as Matthew Swift. It must be said, that would be a tall order. Swift is a sorcerer who makes his debut waking up two years after his brutal murder, and turns out to have been inhabited by the new gods of the telephone wire. His defining characteristics are a slightly schizophrenic childishness and a propensity for mass destruction on an awesome scale. Sharon Li is very much a typical young woman in modern day London – it just so happens that she can walk through walls, turn herself invisible, and commune with the spirits…and her social work tends to bring her into contact with banshees who appreciate modern art, trolls with a talent for cookery, and vampires with OCD about personal hygiene. It’s all great fun, but as yet not quite as good as the Swift series, and this isn’t helped by the fact that both books in the MA series have featured Swift as an important secondary character, and in both books things would have gone horribly wrong without his intervention. Hopefully, future instalments in the series will push Swift to the background and develop the actual protagonists a little further.