The Quasings have inhabited earth since the dawn of time, an alien race which can’t live in the earth’s atmosphere for very long. Like symbionts, they continually take over human bodies with the goal of evolving us primitive earthlings. During the evolution, the Quasings split into two factions, the Prophus and the Genjix, using humans to fight their battles. Once the human host dies, the Quasings have only a short time to look for another suitable host before they die. Thankfully, this complex backstory is explained over time and isn’t just delivered in an info dump that I just gave here.

Enter Roen Tan, general layabout and fat dude.

Roen Tan ain’t your usual host. He’s overweight, eats pizza most nights a week and hates his job. When it comes to super tough, kung-fu missions, he’s not your guy. But when Quasing Tao is suddenly forced to find a new host, Tan is it. Cue Rocky music and “wax on, wax off” quotes. Roen is forced into training by Tao, a deadpan, ancient Quasing who likes to point out his superior knowledge about everything.

This is your typical fat, lazy guy transforms into evil fighting powerhouse story. The difference is in the way Tao and Roen play off each other, like a continuous comedy duo. Tao is the straight guy, Roen is the goofy slapstick. Their relationship plays off the classic buddy tale. There are numerous geek culture references; yet another release in the geek appeal wave that has been happening lately. That’s not a bad thing, but books that hang off in jokes and pop culture references get old quickly.

The story does have more to it than just the comedy between Tao and Roen, and builds up an arc about Roen developing some self-esteem. The difficulty in the continuous internal monologue is that the side characters ended up a little flat. The Genjix villains and his girlfriend Jill, both become one-sided characterisations. I didn’t really believe the romance between Roen and Jill. What was so attractive about her anyway? All she seemed like was a cute lady in a business suit that was always in Frankfurt on business.

Once Roen’s training finishes, the plot loses a little direction before heading to the final set piece. The ending is quite good, and successfully rounds off the entertaining novel, but leaves the book wide open for a sequel. The message of the book is not a new one, but tries to delve into the complexities of conflict. Should we kill 5 people to save a thousand? Cue Mr Spock citing “The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the one.” Although Roen struggles with the methods of the Prophus, he gradually accepts that they are working for the good of mankind. What I felt could have been stronger was his own personal opinions; Roen doesn’t want to fight and Tao laments that he has had to turn his hosts to fighting. So why do they keep on doing it? I suppose keeping the Genjix villains at bay has to be a good enough reason.

If you enjoy spy fi, baddass babes and hidden alien wars, The Lives of Tao is an entertaining and funny read. Oh, and there’s a pretty spiffy cover too.

I read The Lives of Tao as an ARC from Angry Robot Books. You can find out more about the author and his past life as a Death Star mechanic here.

You seem to have blitzed your kickstarter campaign. How have people in the community come behind the project?

Very supportive and enthusiastic.  I had a booth at WonderCon last week in Anaheim and people were coming up to me and thanking me for it being such a great campaign.  Which is interesting – the whole manner in which you choose to do your kickstarter campaign can be a ‘meta’ level of creativity. The art you choose, how you arrange and title your reward tiers – what your message is – how you update fans and backers – it all has incredible creative potential and allows you to join together with your readers in an expanded and very personal form.

What was the reasoning for doing a kickstarter?

I had been following and supporting different  kickstarter campaigns and was very curious.  There seemed to be so much potential there for anyone who self publishes – a way to reach out to fans and say ‘what would you like to see next?” and bring the readers into the creative circle before the book is on the shelf.  So I took the plunge with Zen of Wonder – which seemed appropriate.

For those unfamiliar with the series, could you give a little background to the Hatter M comics and what inspired you to create them?

The Hatter M graphic novel series (four volumes so far and currently writing 5^th and final volume) began in 2005 as single issue comics illustrated by Ben Templesmith.  The series came about because of an earnest but random comment from a boy in London during my first book tour following the publication of The Looking Glass Wars by British publisher Egmont. He wanted to see more of Princess Alyss’ bodyguard (Hatter Madigan) who is featured in about 4 chapters in the book as he travels our world for 13 years searching for Wonderland’s lost princess.    It was a lot of time and adventure packed into 4 chapters – and the boy suggested I turn it into a comic book.  I thought the idea was excellent and so began the Hatter M series.

In the introduction you briefly refer to the story being discovered in Zen temples and hint at adventures had by the author… any particular travels that inspired this comic?

Not particular adventures or travels but I have been experiencing similar challenges to learn to travel within – to see life in a different way – to stop looking for what I think I want and to really mean it when I say, “Not a problem!  An adventure!”

Hatter M is interesting in the way it adapts elements of Wonderland and creates a new fantasy universe using those elements. What drew you to Lewis Carroll’s world in the first place?

I have often told the story of discovering a partial deck of cards in the British Museum that reminded me of a darker Wonderland, not the Wonderland I had grown up with.  These cards lead to the discovery of the full deck and the true story that Princess Alyss had intended Lewis Carroll to write. Once I was hooked on this literary sleuthing I dug deeper and deeper into this darker Wonderland and these discoveries became the ever-expanding universe of The Looking Glass Wars and Hatter M.

As a character, Hatter Madigan fits into the tall, dark and mysterious stranger category, and yet he seems to discover his sense of humour in this book. How is humour important to his development as a character?

A lack of humour was his fatal flaw – not being able to laugh at himself or the absurdity of life was an obstacle for his advancement.  He still struggles but at least now he is pointed in the right direction.

Zen compliments the absurd ideas behind the original wonderland, especially when Carroll writes “Be what you would seem to be – or if you’d like it put more simply – Never imagine yourself not to be otherwise than what it might appear to others that what you were or might have been was not otherwise than what you had been would have appeared to them to be otherwise.” It’s a mouthful, but do you feel similar parallels with the ancient Asian thinking and Carroll’s use of the absurd?

Yes!  Anyone who has somehow found their way to ‘no mind’ – whether through Zen, madness or imagination has an appreciation of the absurd nature of what we call life.

Not only that, but the idea of a comic suits Carroll down to the ground when he wrote, “What is the use of a book, without pictures or conversations?”

Lewis Carroll saw beyond the everyday constraints of Victorian London and projected his mind and creativity into other realms. This makes me wonder what Carroll would be doing as a writer/photographer/mathematician

in the 21^st century? Is his spirit here in another incarnation – a young boy or girl – creating something that will break open our minds and influence pop culture for the next 150 years or longer?  Maybe.

The use of colour is very cinematic, alternating between blues and warm golden tones. What kind of implications does the colour have in the meaning, if we can read any meaning at all?

Sami Makkonen chooses the colors, for the most part.  We may indicate certain colors for certain panels or characters etc. but overall the colors are left to Sami. I emailed Sami, here’s what he wrote – “As for the question regarding the colors…I think this kind of palette emphasizes the fantasy elements of the story and the yellow / ocher tones capture the 19th Century world were most of the story takes place.”

I like that Nekko channels some of the great Zen masters, yet she is a woman. Were there any female Zen masters?

Oh yeah!  But like everything else in history they were obscured behind the patriarchal control system. Zen Women: Beyond Tea Ladies, Iron Maidens and Macho Masters by Grace Schireson is an exceptional book filled with information about female Zen masters and of course, humor!  Here is a link.  Check it out if you have a chance.  Nekko is really more of a teenager than a mature woman – so I think she might have this category all to herself – the first teen queen zen master.

Are the demons featured in the book really from Japanese mythology, or are they a product of your imagination?

I think they are a product of someone’s imagination but not mine. I researched Japanese demonology and discovered an amazing number of demons. There is literally a demon for every moment – every bizarre possibility – it is an art form in and of itself – who invents these demons?  Does someone sit around doing it all day?  I mean, according to what I read there really is a demon who haunts outhouses.  What does he do?  Hide the toilet paper?

What should readers do if they ever encounter a rooftop zen master?

Listen.

The folks at Automatic Publishing have a special offer for fans of the graphic novel. Email automaticpublishing@gmail.com and they will add you to their mailing list and send you some free art and comic pages. Sweet!

Contract of Defiance is the first in the Spectras Arise Trilogy, of which the second novel, Contract of Betrayal has just been released. When a crew of arms smugglers botches their latest job, Corps-deserter and crewmember, Aly Erikson, is separated from her brother and the rest of the crew. Erikson is picked up by a motley gang of tough settlers, who rig her into a dangerous mission with the hope of rescuing her brother. It’s a perilous game of double-crossings and gun negotiations, trying to get the information they need to break into one of the most secure facilites in the galaxy.

This is a smart, slick, sci fi action novel that will appeal to a wide range of fans. It’s particularly aimed at the Joss Whedon, Resident Evil and Star Trek crowd, with its hard sci fi edge and strong female characters. Aly Erikson is one tough woman, and I certainly wouldn’t want to cross her. It’s great to read a book with a female lead that doesn’t back down. You believe Ms Erikson can do just about anything, without being overly indestructible. Trust me, Aly Erikson takes a hell of a beating.

The book maintains a great sense of energy throughout. I’m a sucker for first person present narrators because they throw you right in the action. You get right inside Aly’s head, which keeps the urgency for rescuing her brother alive. Salyer still leaves enough moments for pause, but the action scenes really make the book. The author has a good sense of action moving through a space and envisaging that on paper. A lot of books suffer because the author writes the action generically. With Contract of Defiance you feel every punch, every bullet.

Each of the side characters have their own distinct personalities and motivations. Rajcik, with his tattooed body and ruthless attitude to business makes a great villain. Salyer also introduces a love interest without being cheesy or over the top. While the story isn’t anything we haven’t seen before in science fiction (a rag tag group of settlers go up against the man), the details and the delivery keeps the story fresh. Salyer never dips into the “He was wearing a (insert generic uniform here) and had (brown/black/pink) colour hair” descriptions. Take for example, this description of Strahan:

He could be a wrestler or a runner, but the rigid set of his shoulders and chronic, brooding scowl that carves deep lines across his forehead indicates his default setting is pissed off and dangerous.

I got an instant sense of his character from this description, as well as a good laugh. Immediately I’m envisaging Jeremy Renner doing his “I’m so badass” face in a movie.

Or this great line about Rajcik:

Rajcik sits with his back to the wall of the dingy room like the deity of cannibals, ready to receive prayers and pleas for mercy.

It’s solid writing that lifts the bar for writers who self-publish. It helps that Tammy Salyer is also a proof reader, and the book has been combed over with an editor’s eye.

Contract of Defiance is a good indie publication which holds its own against many of the new releases by major publishing houses. But in the end, it’s about the entertainment. And I had a great time with Aly Erikson and crew.

I read the book as a free copy from the author in exchange for an honest review. Contract of Defiance is available from Amazon. For more information about the author, visit her blog here. 

Never Let Me Go is very different to many contemporary speculative fiction novels in the mode of narration and focus. With Ishiguro’s literary background he approaches the story from a character driven narrative, based around the memories of a young British woman named Kathy. It is the voice of Kathy that draws the reader into the story, through her detached and meandering recollection of her childhood at a boarding school called Hailsham and her relationships with Tommy and Ruth. Hailsham belongs in a nostalgic childhood, a school reminiscent of something from an Enid Blyton book, where children play rounders in the summer sun, sneak through the rhubarb patch and compete to produce artworks worthy of the “gallery”.

Yet there is something sinister about Hailsham and Kathy’s detachment from the outside world. The children do not have families, and when devastating news is delivered, they react with the acceptance of indoctrinated children. The children are groomed for their roles in society with an almost cult-like progression. Ishiguro writes:

Tommy thought it possible the guardians had, throughout all our years at Hailsham, timed very carefully and deliberately everything they told us, so that we were always just too young to understand properly the latest piece of information.

It is difficult to discuss the plot much further without giving away the turns that bring about the gut-wrenching finale, only to say that by drawing us in through innocence, Ishiguro drives his points about the human soul home. He is the master of relationships which come too late or too early, like the constant circling of a rapier duel. These small incidents build up like our own memories; how often is it that a small or insignificant moment comes back to haunt us? What we view as significant in our lives can be insignificant to others. That which hurts us may be forgotten by the offender. Ishiguro uses layered imagery to enforce this vision, from the ongoing metaphor of Norfolk being the home of lost things, to the books that Kathy reads and the reoccurring song “Never Let Me Go”.

At the heart of the novel, Never Let Me Go is a love story and a story about the human soul. Ishiguro makes important points about the nature of art defining the presence of a soul. That through expression – painting, poetry and dance – we demonstrate our ability to love, but in being human, we open ourselves to heartbreak.

From the back of the book, A Conspiracy of Alchemists sounds like a fantastic read. Elle Chance, airship pilot, is hired to deliver a mysterious package. The delivery goes awry, and Elle is forced to join forces with Hugh Marsh. The problem is, Hugh Marsh is an absolute douchebag. Then begins the love/hate relationship that has wracked many a heroine since Pride and Prejudice.

While this sounds like an interesting enough plot (I too was sucked into the excellent marketing), it falls down simply because of the characters.

I had so many problems with this novel from the start. Elle Chance appears to be a strongly independent woman, yet not once in the material I read does she extricate herself from a situation without the help of a man. If this is a novel with a strong heroine, she should be the one doing the rescuing! Instead, she is pestered by an arrogant twat, Hugh Marsh aka Lord Whatsisface, who insists that he can keep her safe blah blah blah.

Hugh Marsh needs a good kick in the balls.

I couldn’t keep reading because in these kinds of novels, the feisty woman always ends up with the smug man. But in this case it would bring me no happiness by reading it. Hugh Marsh has no redeeming qualities. His arrogance does not weaken. Instead, Elle Chance begins to weaken as a character by falling for a man that wants to keep her captive. She says stuff like this:

I will be perfectly safe with you [Patrice] and Marsh to protect me.

Argh!! I don’t want to read a story about a woman that needs men to protect them. I want her to be independent. I want the men to need her, not the other way around!

Elle seems so stupid when it comes to Mr Marsh. He enters Elle’s mind and they do things that shouldn’t be done on a psychic plane without first consenting in the real world. Yet she is still drawn to him, despite the fact he’s from a group of warlocks that want to worship her as an object and keep her like a pet for the rest of their lives.

Your life will be no different to the lives of other women. But instead of devotion to your husband you will be devoted to the Council. And they will revere you like a goddess.

NUH UHHH… Granted, Elle gets pretty angry at this idea, but instead of nicking off to the first youth hostel she can find and dumping Mr Marsh, she can’t seem to escape him despite numerous opportunities and a gyrocopter to boot.

When Elle points out that she doesn’t really want to do this, Marsh can’t seem to let a non-patronising answer slip his lips.

I know this is a lot to take in, but in time you will see that I am right. You will be safe and cared for. I am sure that you will find contentment over time. You just have to give your new life a chance.

This is where I would have done the “Eyes, nose, throat, groin, foot! Back off!” self-protection training I did in high school.

Added to that, Elle’s father has been kidnapped, and instead of urgently racing to rescue him we have Mr Marsh buying pretty dresses, dinner at the palazzo and cappuccinos on the Orient Express. If my father got kidnapped, I’d be off in a flash, contacting Scotland Yard, getting my deerstalker on and searching for clues. Not lollygagging after some stupid man.

If life was like this book, every woman could be assuaged by a beautiful ball gown. The thing is, I do believe this book will find an audience. It’s just not me. Personally, I don’t like writing bad reviews, because I know authors are human beings (well, most of them). But in the case of A Conspiracy of Alchemists I couldn’t love it at all, as much as I wanted to. There are much better steampunk universes out there.

I read the book as an ARC from Del Rey. To find out more about the book visit the author’s website.

Taking the character Captain Bastable from E. Nesbit’s The Story of the Treasure Seekers, Moorcock narrates the story as a recounted narrative. His grandfather, taking a respite break at Rowe Island, has a chance encounter with opium addicted Bastable, who recounts his unbelievable story. Bastable, once a soldier in the British Raj, marches upon the mystical city of Teku Benga. After a drastic earthquake, he is transported to an alternate 1973 where British India still exists and the world is divided into powerful colonies. In stead of airplanes, airships dominate the skies, and Bastable is trained to pilot these ships.

Moorcock nails the Edwardian adventure tale with writing so skilled it is difficult to differentiate from period tales. Perhaps he is too good – for I felt the novel so convincing in its voice that I struggled to view it in a contemporary sense for the first half. The plot takes time to become more than just an adventure tale; it seems Bastable’s plight is to be buffered by the “slings and arrows of outrageous fortune.”

Moorcock’s political discussions kick in at the halfway mark and elevate an ordinary adventure tale into something more important. Moorcock is a self-confessed anarchist, and the characters like Una Persson and Count von Bek often reflect these values. Bastable himself is a pure example of the colonial chap, who is changed through his encounters with both Indian and Chinese people. One of the main differences between the Edwardian style and contemporary writing is the lack of suspicion – Bastable is rightly shocked when anarchists, communards and feminists invade his life.

He utilises the anachronistic narrator in a parallel 1973 to quip about contemporary issues.

The Suffragettes of my own day would have been happy to hear that women over thirty now had the vote and there was talk of extending the franchise to woman of twenty-one.

Over time, Bastable is slowly converted to the opinions of the anarchists after seeing oppression in colonies throughout the world. There are idealists and pragmatists among the revolutionaries. Vlaimir Illyitch represents the old idealists. He says:

A revolutionist is a man who, perhaps, fails to keep his innocence but so desperately wants it back that he seeks to create a world where all shall be innocent in that way.

On the other hand are the pragmatists like General Shaw, who embody the concept of power obtained by military strength:

Political power grows out of the erupting casing of a bomb like the bomb we are carrying. With such bombs at their disposal, the oppressed will be able to dictate any terms they choose to their oppressors.

I am a huge fan of literature that seeks to address political issues through alternate histories, but I don’t think the message quite works here. The plot feels sidetracked in order to espouse certain values on colonialism; despite my interest in colonialism I don’t need to be hit over the head with political messages in order to understand them. On the other hand, it is in keeping with the Edwardian/late-Victorian style of the novel. But it’s a difficult balance which isn’t consistently maintained through the novel. The first half has too little commentary, the last half has too much.

For fans of steampunk, especially tales of airships, The Warlord of the Air is an essential read. Titan Books are currently reprinting the complete ‘A Nomad of the Time Streams’ trilogy. While the book may seem less original in an oversaturated market of corsets and corsairs, Moorcock still poses valuable questions about the nature of colonies and their affect on indigenous peoples. Viewed in the context of its original publication date, The Warlord of the Air is an important book in the canon of science fiction and fantasy.

You can find out more about Michael Moorcock at his website Multiverse. This book was reviewed as an ARC from Titan Books. Featured image from Wikimedia Commons.

Chan-Wook Park seems to have stepped back a little from the more graphic violence of his previous films and his first English language venture, although strange and disturbing, is nowhere near as visceral. It’s a coming-of-age chiller about a solitary young woman, India Stoker (Mia Wasikowska), who discovers on her eighteenth birthday that her father Richard (Dermot Mulroney) has died in mysterious circumstances. She lives with her mother Evie (Nicole Kidman), a woman of fragile nerves and waxwork beauty, with whom she has a rather detached and distant relationship.

The Korean director has often referred to being inspired by Alfred Hitchcock’s film Vertigo in his formative years, and that inspiration can clearly be seen in Stoker. While the material itself may be odd, there is a well-crafted and striking brilliance to much of the imagery. Hitchcock’s movie Shadow Of A Doubt is echoed in Uncle Charlie (Matthew Goode), a sleekly ingratiating figure oozing malevolent charm, who arrives at the funeral of his brother Richard. It appears that Uncle Charlie intends to stay, and he begins to foster a flirtation with India’s glamorous but brittle mother.

Initially unresponsive to her uncle’s overtures, India quickly discovers more about his dark proclivities, but instead of being repelled, she is inexorably drawn to him. A bizarre and perplexing alliance is formed. In a role that was initially meant for Colin Firth, teasingly ominous from first sighting, Matthew Good plays the slick and seductive Charlie with a kind of mesmeric allure – reverting to a petulant ‘man-child’ when his composure is threatened. Wasikowska plays the fey, morose virgin with cold and calculating expertise. Kidman stares and pouts as the fragile, beautiful mother, although her features are so blanched and polished that the more agitated she becomes, the more she seems to struggle to emote against the botox and filler. It creates an odd effect that adds to the hypnotic fascination.

Stunning graphic poster from Stoker

Park’s viewpoint manages to remain detached and cool, yet he somehow creates a mood that verges on hysteria. It is as Tennessee Williams’ American Gothic might appear through Hitchcock’s lens. The symbolic images (spiders, eggshells), the lush setting and discordant Clint Mansell score lure us into a suffocating hothouse of secrets, implications and suspicions.

If the movie has a weakness it is Wentworth Miller’s script (with contributions by Secretary writer Erin Cressida Wilson). It often seems flimsy and poorly constructed, although it occasionally displays an amusing kind of gallows humour.  But when Stoker has little going on narratively, Chan-Wook Park distracts and dazzles the viewer with his visual panache.

Regarding his past movies, there have been the inevitable comparisons with Tarantino, but for me Chan-Wook Park’s works shows a greater maturity. Before the ‘Tarantinies’ start getting all hot under the collar, I do think that Tarantino is a very talented film-maker and a particularly good writer of dialogue, but there is something a little juvenile in the consistent courting of controversy and wallowing in the visceral and gory.

Chan-Wook Park has an altogether more measured and objective approach to the dysfunctional and the deviant, and shows more respect for the insidious power of the viewer’s imagination. Although he’s created a more pensive, psychological drama in Stoker his penchant for disturbing transgressions hasn’t been lost in translation.

Stoker is worthy viewing for those who are fans of the director or are open to a more unconventional cinematic story, particularly one so clearly made in homage to classic Hitchcock.  Stoker’s script may be eggshell-thin, but Chan-Wook Park and his regular cameraman Chung-hoon Chung crack our sense of propriety and normality, much like the eggshells India cracks so assiduously at her father’s wake.

After the dramatic crash of a ship at Whitby, Sherlock Holmes is asked to investigate. He and his constant partner Dr Watson uncover an almost unbelievable truth: vampires do exist, and one has come to England. And not just any vampire. Holmes must face Count Dracula himself. In the immortal words of Holmes, “When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.”

Usually I’m a little suspicious of gimmicky crossover stories. Pride and Prejudice and Zombies didn’t really carry the same flair for me as Austen’s original novel. But Estleman skillfully nails the voice of Dr Watson, setting the premise through a lost set of manuscripts in an estate auction. The author is clearly a devotee of Holmes, setting a brisk pace for the “game afoot”. I was very impressed by his grasp of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s writing style. Estleman himself is an award winning crime writer, having written both contemporary and historical crime novels.

On the other hand, I am a Dracula devotee; I felt that while the Holmesian aspects of the novel were fairly authentic, the Dracula character was a little one-dimensional. The notion of Dracula has developed beyond that of staring red eyes and sweeping capes. Of course, being a blood sucking vampire intent on taking over Britain may be a one-dimensional career. He really should get into plasma donation.

It’s a quick and easy read and includes all the markers of a Holmes mystery. There are the Baker Street Irregulars, a colourful coach driver and a dashing bloodhound. At 200 pages you’ll breeze through the book, which makes it ideal for holiday reading. On another note, I love the cover redesign Titan Books have done for the re-released Further Adventures of Sherlock Holmes.

Despite my leanings towards Team Dracula, it seems he’s met his match in the indomitable Sherlock Holmes. Yet Holmes will need a lot more than the Reichenbach Falls to kill the vampire king. Sherlock Holmes vs Dracula is an entertaining tome, which will appease fans of both hero and villain alike.

Steve Clark moves to Cradle Bay Island after the suicide of his brother. Steve, despite his jock like good looks, befriends the two stoners and the hot chick with a nose ring. He begins to notice the “disturbing behavior” of the honor roll students, known as the Blue Ribbons, who are rebels converted to the studious life by some less than acceptable teaching techniques.

I have a soft spot for 1990s high school flicks. Disturbing Behavior hits the right notes. There’s the sexy indie girl Rachel played by Katie Holmes, who seems to enjoy sitting on the flatbed of her pickup looking sexy for no apparent reason. The lost but ever-so handsome James Marsden as Steve Clark. But Gavin Strick, the stoner sidekick played by Nick Stahl, gets all the good lines. Add to this an albino called UV, a rat catching janitor, some creepy, yoghurt loving honor roll students and you’ve got a recipe for hilarity.

There are so many script disparities in the film. Like what happened to the two dead bodies at the start? Or how about Clark escaping at the end with his sister and friends but forgetting completely about his parents who may or may not be dead. Despite the ignorance of these primordial script problems, Disturbing Behavior ends up echoing Twin Peaks, with the ridiculous juxtaposition of the banal and horror.

The script has some genius lines. At the introduction of the rat catching janitor, Strick comments:

Mr. Newberry here has got the full-on Boo Radley, village idiot, Quasimoto thing going, don’t you Mr. Newb?

Or Rachel’s line:

Who put the acid in my Spam?

There’s also an alternative ending on some versions of the DVD where stoner Strick is shot and bemoans his inability to meet Trent Reznor. The best performance is Strick’s machine-gun delivered interpretation of the high school hierarchy:

Gavin Strick: Here’s where it gets really nasty. Lorna runs with that group there, the Blue Ribbons.
Steve Clark: What’s that?
Gavin Strick: It’s a community group of good kids. Have bake sales, car washes. Kiss a lot of adult sphincter.
U.V.: Blue Robots.
Gavin Strick: Here, here. Those three guys: Cradle Bay’s answer to Manson, McVeigh and O.J. Trent Whalen, Andy Effkin, Robby Stewart.
U.V.: I bet you didn’t know that toast came in three flavors.
Gavin Strick: This group’s music of choice: The hum of perfection, the buzz of ambition. Drug of choice: Life, the pursuit of clean living at the expense of all who sniffle at the hem of their gowns.
U.V.: Freaks, so chic.
Gavin Strick: Then you got kids like me and U.V. Lames who like our metal heavy, our Marlboros light. Music of choice: Harvester of Sorrow, Language of the Mad. Drug of choice: What do you got?
U.V.: Freaks all week.
Gavin Strick: That’s it. Lesson over. Class dismembered. Welcome to Cradle Bay High, Stevie Boy. Welcome to my nightmare.

Even more Twin Peaks is the fact the Blue Ribbons meet up in a Yogurt Shoppe. I mean, if you’re going to have a den of evil, it better be a “Shoppe”.

The terrible special effects also deserve a mention. Every time the Blue Ribbons consider an evil action, they get a ridiculous Terminator glint in the eye. Clark suffers video style flashbacks to his brother. The final brainwashing video is glorious in 90s splendour. To add to the 90s factor, the score is by Mark Snow, of X-Files theme fame.

Disturbing Behavior, despite its failure at the box office, didn’t seem to affect the success of its stars. James Marsden is now better known as Cyclops from the X-Men franchise. The scriptwriter, Scott Rosenberg, also wrote one of my favourite action films, Con Air, and adapted the screenplay for High Fidelity.

There’s something appealing about Disturbing Behavior despite the obvious and marked flaws in the film. It deserves cult status, if only for the wisecracking script.

What do you think of Disturbing Behavior? Is it a cult film? Or is it an average teenage horror flick? Share your opinions in the comments section below.

Damien Walters Grintalis’ debut novel, Ink, tells the story of a recently separated man, Jason, who asserts his newfound independence by getting a menacing-looking griffin tattoo on his arm. As this tale of horror unfolds, it quickly becomes apparent that it’s no normal tattoo.

Although I enjoy dark stories, I don’t read horror stories too often. In the case of Ink, I was immediately drawn to the book by its simple yet elegant cover art. Of course, then the original storyline intrigued me, and I knew I had to read this book.

I’ve had the pleasure of reading some shorter works by Damien Walters Grintalis, so I already knew that she had excellent writing chops. I absolutely love the sophistication of her writing style; her prose flows effortlessly and has an almost poetic quality. Her skill as a wordsmith is clearly apparent in Ink. Grintalis uses environmental elements of a scene like odors, colors and weather patterns to weave subtle detail into her narrative.

In general, I very much appreciated the artistic liberties that Grintalis takes while telling the story with the exception of the fact that her character “sailor” doesn’t ever use contractions when he speaks. I recognize this as an intentional literary device with the goal of further establishing his character, but it didn’t work for me.

The approach Grintalis takes to the storytelling in Ink is a bit unconventional; it’s somewhat the reverse of a traditional mystery novel. I’m used to suspense and mystery stories where I have to look for clues to try to solve a puzzle. In the case of Ink, as the reader, we know pretty much everything about what’s happening, but we’re just waiting for the main characters to figure it out. Although I found this approach a little frustrating at times, I think it has merits if you approach it with an open mind. Instead of trying to solve the mystery per se, based on what was revealed in the story, I had to try to anticipate how certain characters would act or react when thrust into unpredictable situations. This storytelling style facilitates strong character development even among the novel’s minor characters.

I especially like the use of Jason’s father as an anchor in Jason’s life. In fact, I even got a little choked up at the section of the book which included his father’s funeral. I felt like Grintallis did a great job of capturing the emotion of the scene.

The pace of Ink is a bit of a slow burn, but I felt it fit with the artistic style of the novel. The action really picked up in the final 25% or so. If you’re looking for an original story with sophisticated writing and just the right amount of creep-factor, then start reading Ink.

You can find out more about the Damien Walters Grintalis here. Ink is published by Samhain Publishing and is available here.