Astrid had run up into the upper tier for the first time in nearly a month, telling the third mate’s wife that he had arrived but would still be a while as he was needed for some business. This, as far as Astrid knew, had been a lie, but it didn’t matter to her as long as she was paid. The woman had paid her and sent her on her way and she had been up in the upper tier.
Of course she had gone to see her old house, one of the few in the burned out street that was not being rebuilt yet, one of the few that no one made it out of. As far as she was aware, none of her old neighbours even knew she was alive, but she didn’t care. She had wanted to see her house.
Then they have come, the blackies from the Falcon had come by, casual as you please, and she had panicked. She had leapt to her feet and sprinted away down the street. She turned and twisted through streets she still had memorised as if she were being followed by the Corrupted, not by foreigners who didn’t know her.
But she wasn’t being followed, she knew it without checking. Those blackies had no reason to follow her and certainly wouldn’t have known the place well enough to do so regardless.
Soon enough she was on the rooftops, soft boots and lack of ability to gain weight meaning she could go almost completely unnoticed. She trailed the Lythaz as they wandered through the upper tier, clearly looking for something.
The Wiley Hunter was a fairly small tavern, two stories and barely broader than the houses around, but it had a very good reputation and was where Astrid had been headed. The latest barge down from Lakeside was in and everyone knew that captain Arnette stayed at the Hunter.
Astrid wanted to talk to the captain, see if she could get passage back to Lakeside, but she didn’t want to go in there. She didn’t want the Lythaz to ask what she had been doing, in case there was someone who knew.
She was sitting outside the tavern, considering her options, when a buxom and scantily clad woman sat down beside her.
“You on a wait, dear?” she asked.
“Got no job. You want something, yeah?”
“Cut that shit, girly, I’m no docksy. I need something run in there.”
“Sure thing, ma’am, but why not do it yourself?”
“None of your business girl.” She handed Astrid a note. “Give it to the barman and don’t dare read it, got it?”
“Give it to the barman, don’t read it. What do I get?”
“How ’bout the bloodying you won’t get?”
“I get that every run, it isn’t what I mean.”
The woman gave her the best serious look of the day. “One iron round.”
It wasn’t too bad an offer, it wasn’t that great either but it would be a minute of work at most and getting paid at all was more impressive than Astrid let on.
“Get to it,” the woman snapped.
Astrid did not take off at a run, but she did hurry inside. She was greeted with the customary “get out” that accompanied her entering any upper tier establishment, but she ignored it.
She walked up to the bar and offered the note to the man there. “Some woman asked me give you this, wanted me to bring some response.”
The barman took the paper, unfolded it and started to read, dread creeping into his features as he did so. Astrid took the opportunity to scan the room, the blackies were nowhere to be seen, but captain Arnette was easily identifiable.
The man scrunched up the paper, face red and hands shaking. “You tell her she’ll get nothing from me.”
Astrid nodded and wandered over to Arnette. The big woman looked at her suspiciously. “Looks like you’re a bearer of bad news, girl, what do you want?”
“I want to go to Riverside, but I’ve no money,” Astrid replied, wondering if she should have added a ‘ma’am’ in there or a ‘captain’.
“Not bad news at all,” the woman smiled an almost complete set of stained teeth. “You’re hired, be at bay three by sunrise to help load the boat or you’re going nowhere.”
Astrid barely managed to suppress her grin until she got outside. The woman waiting for her gave her an odd look.
“You should have seen him read it,” she told the woman to cover for her grin. “All the mirth left him instantly and I got to watch the dread build and be replaced by anger, he’s probably burning the note right now.”
“What did he say?”
“He said to tell you that you’ll get nothing from him,” Astrid admitted, expecting a poor reaction.
The woman broke into a massive, toothy grin. “Brilliant, that’s brilliant.” She pulled a purse from somewhere on her person, the where made difficult to guess by the woman’s scant clothes, and handed over the promised coin.
Astrid didn’t wait around to see what came of the grinning woman. She headed for the river bays at a run, they were fairly at the opposite end of the city. She wasn’t running for fear of being late, sundown was barely three hours gone, she was running because she wanted to run.
It was an hour past sunset when the Falcon finally reached the massive dock of the Stony Bay, two hours behind schedule. Ropes were tossed down to waiting figures who seemed almost iridescent in the near darkness of the lamp lit dock, five or six adults and a fair gaggle of children, none of whom could have been older than twelve winters.
The gangplank was lowered and the third mate, a native of Engul, descended to talk to the people gathered there. He handed something to the people who’d secured the ropes and most of the children dispersed. A small child, bright red hair hacked fairly short and clad in a heavy leather coat, did not leave, they talked to the mate for a moment, then shrugged and sat nearby.
It took all of half an hour for the crew to disembark, pay jingling in pockets or purses. The child was still waiting after nearly an hour when Captain Herania and the first and second mates disembarked, Dalylia close on their heels.
“You’re captain Herania?” the girl asked the appropriate man.
“I am,” the man replied in his massive, gravelly voice, “what’s it to you, child?”
“I have a message for you, from a man named Norry,” the girl replied, looking him in the eyes.
The captain’s eyebrows went up enough to be noticeable, but no more. “What is it, child?”
“He said to tell you he’s at the Randy Bastard, not the Salty Fisherman, and to give you this.” She fished a piece of paper out of her coat and handed it to the captain.
Herania read the note, then gave the girl a considering look and dug out a purse.
“Before you cheat me, I can read, I know what it promises, yeah?”
Herania actually laughed, digging out three square iron coins and handing them over. “You got ounlaatz, rare in a whitey,” he informed her with a grin. “Where’s this… Randy Bastard.”
“Up near one-twenty-eight,” the girl replied, secreting the money somewhere on her person. “You want me to show you, you got to give me something, yeah?”
The captain grinned his massive, white, grin. “You have a deal, child, show us.”
The girl grinned back, stained teeth. “You got it, cap.”
It was not so far to the Randy Bastard and there was no doubt that captain Herania had known where it was. Dalylia wondered why he had agreed to the pay the girl if her service was unnecessary.
The girl gestured grandly at the three story building that looked almost as if it had grown from the planking of the dock. The sign that hung above the door did not leave Dalylia with high expectations of the place.
The captain again extracted his purse and handed over a smaller, circular iron coin. “For services rendered, yes?”
The girl pretended to consider the coin. “Services rendered, yeah. Got to get to it.” And with that she was gone, pounding off down the dock.
Dalylia watched her go with some confusion. There were no children like this back in Jatourma, no one who wore such ragged clothes and waited for a boat to arrive.
“It is a bit of a shock, yes?” the first mate, Tarouic, asked in Lythaz with a raised eyebrow. “Things are not the same here.”
Dalylia shrugged and replied in Engulian, “we are not in the same place.”
Tarouic grinned his stained teeth at her. “We are not.”
The inside of the tavern lived up to Dalylia’s expectations. It was crowded and everyone seemed to be shouting, and also missing at least one tooth. There was even a man with a tooth sticking out of the back of his head and Dalylia had to resist the urge to pull it out.
In one corner a massive Engulian man with a heavy tan sat silently, taking up a large table. The captain nodded to him and turned to Dalylia, handing her the purse. “Buy us food and drink and sit with the mates, this man and I have business to discuss.”
Surprised, Delylia did what she was asked.
Sitting at the table with the mates she watched as a child, possibly even younger than the girl who had led them to the tavern, scampered in through the door, ignored the barman’s shouts, handed someone something in exchange for a coin, and scampered right back out.
“The…” the second mate, Sarouic, started in Lythaz, then stopped and switched. “They use the homeless children here as runners. You will find that they are not so civilised here.” He switched back to Lythaz for that last as a middle-aged and unhappy looking woman placed several bowls of stew in front of them and a steaming loaf of bread in the middle of the table. She gave the table a sour smile and wandered off.
Dalylia nodded and started eating. The food was odd, not at all like what she was used to after four months at sea or a lifetime in Lythazine, but it was tasty nonetheless.
It was not long before the captain joined them, the big man he had met nowhere in sight. They all nodded to him and muttered “captain” at almost exactly the same time. The man grinned.
“We’ve been educating our young guard,” Tarouic told his father in Lythaz. “She seems quite shocked.”
“It is not so civilised here,” Herania pointed out with his white grin. “They can be quite odd.”
Dalylia shrugged. “Did your business go well?”
The captain shrugged back, an artful gesture that managed to mean exactly nothing. “Well enough.”
“Does this mean we can leave, father?” asked Sarouic.
The captain smiled. “Time we head for higher ground, I think.”
Higher ground meant simply to leave the boards of the dock. Once they were off the dock, the ground sloped up significantly, the houses all seemingly cut into the ground to remain level. The further up they went the easier the slope became and the nicer the buildings.
The ground was nearly flat and the buildings almost well constructed when they came upon a row of burned down houses. Some of the houses were in the process of being rebuilt but a couple were nothing more than burned-out husks.
Sitting on a fence, staring at one of the houses that had gone unrepaired, was the red-haired girl from earlier. She sat on a stone fence, knees under her chin, and stared fixedly at the charred shell, eyes red.
A shoe scuffed against the cobbled street and the girl’s head snapped to face them. In a moment there was recognition and then she was on her feet and sprinting off down the street, boots making almost no sound against the cobbles.
“That girl is odd, yes?” Dalylia asked, watching the small figure disappear down a side street.
“Most likely she used to live in one of these houses,” Herania pointed out. “But she does seem odd.”
They continued in silence the short distance to a tavern called the Wiley Hunter, a fairly small establishment that did not have the same sort of noise coming from it that the taverns lower in the city had.
The taproom was not crowded, but it wasn’t deserted either, it was not so empty as to imply that there was an issue with the place, but only just. For the most part people talked quietly to who they were sitting with, rather than shouting across the room at everyone.
In one corner was the single very noticeable type of person. A tall, broad and slightly overweight woman sat with her booted feet on the table, talking and laughing with two younger men who looked like relatives, if not so close as children.
Oddly, Herania made a beeline for this woman, who gave him a gap-toothed grin. “What can I do for you, captain Herania?” she asked in quite a deep voice.
“I need passage to the Castle for my friend here” – Herania indicated Dalylia – “she is transporting something for me.”
“I don’t usually go as far as the Castle,” the woman admitted with a shrug. “Best I can do is ensure her passage, I can’t take her.”
“What is going on?” Dalylia asked of Tarouic in whispered Lythaz.
The young man shrugged. He didn’t know.
Oddly enough, it was a review of The Sims 4 that made me decide to finally get the complete edition of The Sims 3. I’ve had most of it for quite some time but honestly I forgot about it until fairly recently. I’ve always quite liked The Sims franchise since my parents bought my brother and I the first one when we first got a computer that could run anything.
There are a lot of things to like about The Sims, but the first one, for me at least, is that it enables me to be lazy. I like idle games and tower defence games (though not grand strategy for whatever reason), games where I am basically only involved as bankroll and micromanager. Generally, unless I am torturing my Sims, their autonomy is set to highest and basically they can do what they want, unless I want them to do something.
The main reason, though, that I like The Sims is that it actually supports a lot of my ideology. I don’t honestly remember if the first one allowed gay marriage, but all of them since do. That is one thing, but the main thing I like is that it doesn’t matter at all what your Sims look like, they might have eyes in the middle of their forehead and tattoos covering all available skin (I wish) and no one cares. The amount anyone likes your Sim is down to how they treat others. You can make them arseholes or angels, loners or extroverts, and it doesn’t matter, no one judges you for it, not really.
This is the thing about The Sims that I really like, this and that I can have a Sim write three novels a day. I really like that a Sim’s worth as a human being (or Sim I suppose) has nothing to do with looks or gender.
In this area, though, something that I, personally, would have liked to see would be the ability to make a sim asexual or aromantic. You can abstain from romance or sex or whatever if you want, but you will still find that your sim wants these things from time to time, and it always annoys me mildly, but (if you’ve read my about page recently) you’ll know that this is a very personal gripe.
So, having acquired the compete edition, I finally got to play (and learn of the existence of) the most recent three expansions, University Life, Island Paradise, and Into The Future. I haven’t, admittedly, done much with Island paradise, mostly because my game keeps freezing when I look at water in game. But the other two are actually quite interesting.
University, obviously, lets you go to university, or college because the game is American. The first character I sent to university was a vampire, who took on two many classes and, upon coming out of an exam, pissed herself, passed out in it, and starved to death. Which I thought was hilarious. The next one was a regular person who I had already been playing for a good long time, she became a vampire in college but it was basically happenstance.
Into the Future, though, is actually a really cool notion. University is kind of banal (depending on what you do there I suppose) but going into the future? Changing the future? Awesome. First character I made to go to the future was a ghost robot mechanic who I haven’t played all that much because I can’t be arsed dealing with robots. Other one was the same one who went to college and didn’t die. She spends a lot of time in the future, or did before she got a clone, she met her descendants and failed to seduce them and hasn’t been back since.
You may have noticed that all my characters I’ve mentioned are all women and all single. This is generally the way I play the game, they also tend to be loners, afraid of the outdoors and aspiring writers and painters, just because I’m boring.
There isn’t really much to say about the Sims when it comes to a review, other than what is already said I suppose. The allure, if that’s the right word, of the game is that you can do whatever you damn well please. You can make any sort of character you want and you can make them do whatever you want them to. It is more like a creativity toy than any sort of regular game, but I think that’s great.
I forgot to mention in the note on the chapter I posted a bit earlier that I will put up a review today. I’ve decided to put reviews up on Fridays for the foreseeable future so yeah. Hope you like what I’m posting.
A/N: I was intending to put this up sooner and post more of this story this week but I was surprisingly busy and haven’t had the time, but I won’t be next week so I’ll get a few more posts up. Fair warning, if I forgot to do it when I mentioned I’d be doing this again, everything from this story I’ll be posting is first pass edited (as in very little editing has happened) so there may be mistakes and a significantly higher chance that the content of the chapters will change without my updating them here. Also, if anyone wants to help with names the first iteration of this was called ‘The Last Attack’ but that name isn’t relevant anymore.
“Pier thirty-two, yeah? A woman named Sam, hardly no teeth, yeah?” The man tried to give Astrid and intense look, but his eyes wouldn’t seem to focus. Astrid wondered who he was to comment on teeth, he had one tooth in his head, maybe two if you counted the one lodged there after the brawl last night.
“Sam, hardly no teeth, yeah.” She replied, snatching the paper from the man’s hand.
“Get a reply or no coin, yeah? You got much?”
“Not a cop, sir,” she gave the half-hearted shrug she had masted over the last few months, “reply or no coin, yeah.”
“Get to it then.” Again an attempt at a serious look that failed when his eyes continued not to focus, he probably needed someone to look at the tooth.
Astrid turned and ran, the soft souls of her boots making barely a sound against the cobbles of the street. She turned a corner and immediately slowed to a walk, unfolding the note a reading it.
‘Meet me, Randy Bastard, yeah?’
The Randy Bastard was an inn on the dock, one of the few buildings that was not a storehouse that was built on the boards. It was, admittedly, near pier one-twenty-eight, but surely it would have been easier to talk to this Sam in person. With a sigh through her nose Astrid refolded the note, stuffed it into a pocket on her coat, and started running again. Sure Jayme was nice enough when he asked for something, but he was also a drunk and shit when it came to errands.
It wasn’t even like pier thirty-two was that far, barely a half hour jog. Astrid did not, as she had when she had come to be on the streets, keep her head down as she jogged. Keeping your head down meant one of two things this close to the docks, either drunk and good for a robbing or on dirty business and good for a robbing.
Pier thirty-two had a big sign at the entrance with the number painted on, as did all the piers, and was not as crowded as some of the other piers. For the most part piers twenty-six to forty-two were scant for business, though the construction that happened there sometimes meant easy pickings if you needed something for your hole, which Astrid did not.
“Sam,” she shouted at the top of her voice, trying not to wince at the loud noise she was making. Two men and a woman looked at her, but none did more than that. Astrid jogged over to the woman. “I got this for you from Jayme, yeah? Said come back with a reply, yeah?”
The woman took the paper, unfolded it, and smiled to herself. As Jayme had said, she had hardly no teeth, though still more than the man did. Sam read the note slowly, nodded to herself, and extracted a stick of charcoal from a pocket that left her hand smudged black. She scrawled a reply on the back of the paper, folded it again, and handed it back.
“You be quick, yeah? Go straight to the Bastard, yeah? Tell Garth that Sam sent ya, yeah?” She also attempted to give Astrid a serious look, and managed better than Jayme, probably being less drunk.
“Quick, yeah. Straight to the Bastard, yeah. Tell Garth Sam sent me, yeah.” Astrid parroted, pocketing the note.
“Get to it, then.”
Again Astrid was off, this time she didn’t bother to pause and read the note, the smile on the woman’s face had been telling enough. It took probably longer to get to the Bastard than it had to the pier, but it was easier jog since it wasn’t downhill.
“Yo, you not drinkin’ girly,” the big man behind the counter greeted her. The bar was nearly empty, though Jayme was there.
“Sam sent me, yeah?” Astrid replied, making her way to Jayme, who was already nursing a drink. “Here, yeah?”
Jayme took the note at about the same time the big man behind the counter slammed half of an apparently rock hard loaf of wheat-bread down on the counter. “It’s on Sam, yeah? I find you lyin’ to me girly and you ain’t never comin’ back, yeah?”
“She ain’t lyin’ Garth,” Jayme vouched for the girl, pocketing the note and handing over a square iron coin. “You a good egg, girly.”
Thankfully he did not try to ruffle her hair, as he did sometimes when he made this proclamation. “Give her some fish, yeah? On me.”
Astrid showed the correct level of surprise, which was more than she felt. “Thanks, yeah. You need another runner I’ll be around a little, yeah?”
“Yeah. Fuck off, yeah? I got me a date,” Jayme instructed happily.
Garth gave Astrid a suspicious look and removed the bread. The knife he used to cut the loaf was more like a saw than any bread knife Astrid had ever seen, but she also hadn’t eaten in two days and really didn’t care. Garth picked a fish fillet from the grill with his bare hands and slapped it on the bread.
The bread still sounded like a stone upon being placed on the bar, but it smelled like food and Astrid snatched it up regardless of how hard she knew it would be to eat.
The bread was stale and the fish was overcooked but Astrid couldn’t have cared less as she shoved it down her face as quick as she could. She had developed the habit of inhaling her food from eating outside too often and it didn’t matter a bit that she wasn’t outside at that moment.
The shadow that fell over Astrid and the majority of her table indicated a massive man and possibly ill will. The face of the man who belonged to the shadow did not indicate ill will. “You runnin’?”
Astrid glanced at Jayme, who had an arm wrapped around a woman who was hopefully Sam and was laughing raucously, the tooth lodged in the back of his head seemed to have come loose in the merriment and was jiggling distractingly. Astrid nodded to the man.
“Right. I need ya to head to pier one-twenty-three, yeah? Wait for a ship called the Falcon, yeah? Talk to captain Herania, yeah? Tell ‘im Norry’s ‘ere and not the Salty Fisherman, yeah?” This man was the first that day who managed to give Astrid a serious look. “Give ‘im this and ‘e’ll pay ya, yeah?”
Astrid had heard that before. “Nah, I come back and you pay me, yeah? I seen this one before, yeah?”
The man’s face darkened, but not like he was angry at her, more like he was frustrated. “Man’s payin’ me, yeah? I got nothing ’till he’s here, yeah? Can ya read, kid? Take a fuckin’ look, yeah? We’re on the level ‘ere, yeah?”
Astrid unfolded the proffered paper and read, in neat hand, a letter of debt for three iron rounds, a fairly significant sum for a wait. The paper had a seal and everything, it looked as legit as Astrid had seen. She folded the paper and tucked it into a pocket. “Pier one-twenty-three, yeah. Ship called Falcon, yeah. Captain Herania, yeah. Tell him Norry’s at the Randy Bastard and not the Salty Fisherman, yeah. Give him the paper and he pays me, yeah.”
The man nodded. “Get to it.”
Astrid nodded, waved to Garth to let Jayme know she’d left, and wandered down to the pier. She didn’t need to hurry, the last wait she’d been put on had lasted five hours. It had been welcome down time, but still a pain.
So I finished my school year yesterday, hopefully, and so I’ll now be the proud owner of copious free time. I figured I’d try NaNoWriMo again, but maybe a bit more casually. I’m in a much better place this year but I know that if I put too much thought and time into it I will burn out.
So I’ll try to be casual about it though who knows. I’ll also get back to posting reviews hopefully once a week.
A/N: Sorry I didn’t get this up yesterday, as I said I would, but I forgot. I do tend to forget things. This is a school assignment wherein we had to read a book, in this case Breath by Tim Winton and write a review.
To say that I found Tim Winton’s Breath boring wouldn’t be quite true. My description of it is dull but easy to read. There wasn’t anything in particular that caught my attention, but for the most part there also wasn’t anything that made me want to stop reading.
For the most part.
I haven’t, admittedly, read any of Tim Winton’s other books, so I am not sure if it is a trend he has or a style employed in this book in particular but the tone and writing seem to shift, distinctly, between extremes. There is the extreme of solely action and the extreme of no action. Any time there was nothing happening, which was not too common but happened enough times to be a trend, I felt compelled to put the book down and do something else for a while.
The first time this was really noticeable is fairly early in the book when the narrator takes a break from narrating the story of his young life to pontificate on the fact that people breathe. I realise that a theme in this book is breath, hence the title, but whenever this theme is brought up it is done so in a very heavy handed way. There is much ado made of Pikelet and Loonie holding their breath for a long time. There is a big deal made of Pikelet’s father’s sleep apnoea. There is a big deal made of Eva enjoying being suffocated. I didn’t mind this so much, but from page 49 to page 52 is an unbroken ramble on breathing.
This sort of tonal shift happens mostly under one circumstance, wherein the narrator decides to take a break from storytelling to have a bit of a ramble. The only time this is not the case is close to the end of the book when Pikelet is obsessing over Eva, which I have been informed is the normal form of a serious crush and came off naturally even if it seemed odd to me.
Though the story of Breath is clearly a coming of age story, for the most part it acts as a reverse of the normal order, in that things only seem to get more difficult for Pikelet. As he matures he works things out, sure, and understands more about himself and others, Sando in particular, but this doesn’t make his life easier. As he comes upon more maturity and understanding, things only get more difficult and complex. Even after puberty his life does not come together for a good many years, not until reaches around fifty years of age and even then it would be better to say that he has come to terms with his life than that he has worked it out.
The reason that I found the book readable while mostly being unengaging seems to me to be a matter of subject. I didn’t know anything about surfing, surfing culture, small town living, or the strong desire to half-drown oneself for fun before I read Breath. While I didn’t engage with the story or characters for the most part, I was interested in the actions they were undertaking.
I found, though, generally, that I was engaged by the story or characters most when there was least surfing. I enjoyed reading about Pikelet and Loonie meeting and become friends and being stupid together. I enjoyed reading about Pikelet’s school camp and the girl who informed him she was his girlfriend.
While the surfing was interesting in a learning experience sort of way, it seemed often to be a point at which a break was taken from the narrative. I am aware that this isn’t actually the case, this is a novel about surfing, but that was how it seemed to me, mostly. The main exception to this was when Pikelet surfed Old Smokey by himself or, for that matter, most of the times any of the main characters surfed Old Smokey or Nautilus.
It is, for this reason, that I enjoyed the book more the further I read. As Pikelet drifted further from Loonie and Sando and surfed less, I could engage with the character far more.
I wondered, at first, if it wasn’t a creepy that some random old man (from the perspective of the children) had approached these two boys and offered to keep their surfboards at his house. But Sando doesn’t really come across as creepy in that area, he comes across exactly how Pikelet thinks of him: awesome then mildly annoying then aggravating then awkward to be around.
While it is made clear that Sando is, indeed, taking advantage of the boys, it is not in the way that would be expected these days. Though the book was written in 2008, it harkens back to a time before a lot of the stranger panic was widespread. Pikelet’s parents, who admittedly don’t know the full nature of the relationship, don’t really appear to mind Sando much.
Oddly, Tim Winton chooses not to use quotations to mark dialogue in Breath and while this was jarring at first, it barely made a difference. Once I was used to this way of doing things the dialogue actually blended quite well into the form of the story, which is a recounting. This way of writing dialogue gives the impression of recounting dialogue, which is what is happening, without having to phrase it all passively. I would say, though, that if this was the writer’s intention in writing dialogue this way, that it may have been made more clear if he had used quotes while writing the present.
While the book had a fair number of good moments, I did not, overall, enjoy reading it. It isn’t my deal at all, but for something that I wouldn’t normally read, it is actually quite good. The characters, if unappealing to me, are actually quite well developed, the setting is clearly well researched and the story is interesting in patches. I expect that someone with either more interest or more experience in surfing would enjoy this book more than me.
So I was intending to post something sooner, once my holidays started (they have now ended) but clearly I didn’t get around to it. The main reason for this is that I have been quite sick for a while, the other is that I have barely gotten anything done in at least a month. So yeah, apologies for not holding up my end of the bargain, if there was a bargain or whatever.
I will be posting something tomorrow, and hopefully after that I will get back into the swing of things, but I’m not totally sure as the computer I generally use is in for repairs (it is also the computer with my movies and stuff on it) but I should have that back soon. Regardless of my computer, I will have something to post for tomorrow.
My intent was to post a review today, but I haven’t got any written so seems like that won’t happen. I don’t think I’ll manage it next week either as next week is when all my school work is due so I’m busy. I don’t know if anyone minds, but I figured I would inform you anyway.
Red is a movie I’ve quite liked since the moment I found out it existed. I don’t actually remember if I saw it in the cinema, but I probably did, and I liked it right from that moment. One of the things I like about the movie is that effort was obviously put into it. It could easily have skated by on the sheer star power of numerous famous people (and Karl Urban) being involved.
The story is of Frank Moses (played by Bruce Willis) who is a retired CIA agent living peacefully in the suburbs somewhere, alone. He fairly seems like he had nothing to do, and that is the point. When something finally happens to him, he almost seems happy about it. He ends up pursued by CIA agent William Cooper (played by Karl Urban). The story, honestly. isn’t so interesting, though it is very well put together. This is an a ction movie that is made mostly so that a group of aging famous people can get together and make jokes about being aging famous people. For this fact, it is really quite good.
I have a couple of nitpicks for the movie, but really there is nothing majorly wrong with it, the idea is solid, acting of course good (it stars Bruce Willis, John Malkovich, Morgan Freeman and Helen Mirren), and the characters and dynamic believable and well fleshed out. The main nitpick I have is that it seems like the ‘romance’ is more like Stockholm syndrome, but I also didn’t really care. The main reason I saw it was for that scene in the trailer where Bruce Willis casually steps out of a spinning police car.
It is a good movie, funny, well paced, good action, all that stuff. It isn’t mindblowing or unique, not really, but it is well worth watching.