Flint & Powder (Fiction)

Justified – One of the best shows ever created and the most underrated.

Arthur looked at himself in the mirror and glared.

The salt and pepper was slowly increasing at his temples, lending him an air of seniority that he didn’t particularly like but didn’t detest either. After all, Arthur Flint was a man who never really cared for his looks, women came easily to him, as did his natural swagger and laid-back charms.

What he was truly angry about, in his reflection, was the fact that his brown eyes were beginning to develop crow’s feet and they only served to heighten the similarities between his father and the man who stood slim and tall before him in the mirror.

He had spent most of his adult life overseas, fighting someone’s else war, in a desperate attempt to get away from the long, notorious shadow cast by his overbearing, powerful father.

Now he had finally been sent back home, to the highlands and dark forests, and much to his annoyance, he cast an uncanny resemblance to his father to everyone with eyes and half a brain.

Arthur turned away from the mirror in disgust and went to his closet where he picked out a neat flannel shirt, threw on a skinny black tie and a dark blazer that offset his dark jeans and brown Chelsea boots.

Moving over to his bedside table, Arthur thoughtfully placed a weathered Casio G-Shock watch on his left wrist, a silver ring on his right hand and then picked up a large appendix holster, housing his customised Glock 22 with a Surefire X300U light attached to the bottom of the rail.

Arthur looked at the weapon and sighed heavily before slipping the entire weapon system in between his underwear and the front of pants, adjusting his belt as he did so, to ensure the entire package was snug and hidden. The only thing left was the tin star that he liked to clip to his belt. He slowly ran a hand over the silver polished metal, that made the difference between crime and law and reminded himself of the oath he took.

Now he was ready for work.

Running a hand through his long wavy hair, Arthur placed a wide-brimmed hat on his head and headed out into the blinding sun and heat.

~

Arthur Flint! yelled his boss, Morgan Crewstone, as Arthur was about to leave his desk for lunch. Frowning in puzzlement, Arthur slowly approached the office of his formidable boss and peeked his head through.

You rang boss?

This paperwork … bad news for you.

Why? What’s up with it?

He got away. Jumped his bail officer and now he’s loose.

Arthur moved his entire body through the door and scowled. He took the proffered manila folder and flicked it open with a practised hand.

Jody Davies. That sonvuabitch. How is the officer?

Not good. Lacerations across his neck, after Jody used his handcuffs to grab him. He died on the scene, after getting shot twice by his own gun.

Arthur winced. He could already picture the ugly scene. Jody using the element of surprise to jump the officer as he taking him out and then digging the steel cuffs into the man’s neck. But then ….

Was there an accomplice? Jody couldn’t have gotten free without some help.

Crewstone nodded approvingly at his best Marshal.

The bail officer managed to shoot the guy who helped spring Jody. He’s alive, but in intensive care. Wont be talking for a while. According to the forensics, the second guy had spiked the car’s tires and then tried to shoot the bail officer. Somehow in the scuffle, the guy got shot, and Jody broke free from his cuffs and then killed his bail officer. He left the scene on foot apparently.

So, I guess it falls down to me to find this guy and bring him in again …

You got 24 hours, Flint, before the trail runs cold. Crewstone paused and with a stern look in his eyes, sarcastically said By the way, do your level-headed best to bring this one in alive?

Arthur didn’t bother responding. He merely nodded wordlessly and tipped his hat. Escaped convict or no … he had to get lunch first. No manhunt could start on an empty stomach, and he was going to start his right, with a few buttermilk fried wings, and sweet corn at Princes.

~

His stomach sated, and his mind razor sharp, after the distractions of his stomach had been dealt with, Flint paid a brief visit to the crime scene and put himself in the mind of Davies. Which way would he go? Looking south up the road, Flint thought about what was further up …. the border to Tennessee was at least a solid 2 hours drive, whereas North, the way Flint had came, was towards Lexington, the closest town and best way to find a car.

Then there was always the possibility that some kind hitchhiker had come along and given a man in an orange jumpsuit a lift.

Flint dismissed that as improbable, before recalling the gas station he had passed on his way here.

Sauntering back to his car, Flint drove the 7 minutes to the nearest gas station and casually entered the store, the doorbell ringing annoyingly to announce his entrance. He noted with cold amusement that the attendant was not at his usual post behind the counter. But then he could merely be on a toilet break, judging by the Be back in 5 minutes. Don’t steal nuthin’. sign on the counter.

Making his way to the back of the small store, past endless rows of snacks, chips and quaint road necessities, Flint stopped by the refrigerated section and grabbed himself a can of Red Bull and a pack of gum. Still pretending to browse, he waited patiently, when to his surprise, the attendant actually came back.

Flint walked up to the register and placed the items on the counter.

It was then, he noted the attendant’s nervousness, and the way how his brown eyes kept darting behind Flint, and the slow beads of sweat running down his face into the collar of his white Visit Kentucky for a Swell Time! shirt.

Flint’s eyes raised in consternation, as he noted the mirror behind the attendant and was in the process of lifting his shirt to pull his Glock, when the sound of a shotgun racking in a shell stopped him cold.

Marshal Flint … is that youse? exclaimed Jody excitedly as he moved close to observe Flint more closely. Having ditched his orange jumpsuit, he was dressed similarly to the attendant with the same with Kentucky tourist shirt, and a pair of loose jeans. He was a ferret of a man, unpleasant and possessing a vicious streak.

Jody Davies …. said Flint in a low, threatening voice.

I’ll be gawddamned. I knew it was youse. The cowboy Marshal in the flesh. Didn’t think they would send youse after me again. Did ya miss me?

Next time I won’t.

Hahahahaha. Funny one Marshal. Especially considering I’m the one with a scatter gun aimed square at your back. I still remember the last time youse pulled on me. Still got the scar from when the docs got your bullet out of my damn chest.

I’ll be sure to write a complaint letter to the docs for letting you live.

Davies laughed scathingly. Gawddamn Marshal, I’ve forgotten just how cool youse are in the face of death. Now time’s-a-wastin and I got somewhere to be. So take that gun of yours out, nice and slow. Any funny business and both youse and the fatty gets it.

Flint slowly took out his Glock 22 and raised his hands once more.

Now toss it where the sun don’t shine and don’t forget that back-up I know youse got somewhere.

Flint threw both his service weapon into the corner of the store and the much smaller Glock 19 he kept in the small of his back.

Good job Marshal. Now throw me back the keys to your car … I’ll be gone before you know it.

Flint smiled at the reflection of Davies in the mirror and slowly pulled the keys of his car out. In an act of defiance, he flicked the key directly back at Davies, hard and swift.

The key rattled against the shotgun, throwing Davies aim off, as he tried to catch the keys before they striked him in the face. The move bought Flint precious time, as he threw himself over the counter and tackled the attendant to the floor. Buckshot exploded above their heads, a second too late.

Without hesitating, Flint pinned the attendant to the floor, as he grabbed a bottle of bourbon from behind the counter and aimed it directly at Davies, who racked in another load and manages to shatter the glass mid-air.

Alcohol sprayed the immediate area, blinding Davies. Moving quickly, Flint dove for the two pistols he had thrown into the corner and as his body hits the floor, another shotgun round perforated the snack stand near him.

Grabbing his Glock 22 with his right and his Glock 19 with his left, Flint, spun around on the floor and began pumping rounds through the air. Davies ducks through the hellfire and manages to scrabble out the front door, the bell ringing above the echo of gunfire.

Scrabbling upwards, Flint looked at the attendance and yelled whether he was OK. The man nodded meekly and Flint waited by the door and poked his head out. Immediately ducking back, Flint crouched as the door’s glass exploded inwards towards him, the roar of a shotgun shot across the Kentucky wooded landscape. Holstering his Glock 19 in the small of his back, Flint checked the load of his Glock 22 and did a swift mag change.

Hearing the sound of his car starting up, Flint risked a move and ran out the door and laid flat on the ground as he saw a shotgun barrel stick out the window of his car.

But it clicked empty.

Smiling coldly, Flint raised his pistol to fire, when the car stopped and a pair of hands popped out the window.

Frowning, Flint stared as Jody Davies came out with a shit-eating grin on his face. The distance between them was at least 60 feet.

OK! Hokay! Marshal, youse got me again. I ain’t gonna cause youse no trouble deadeye.

Davies kept walking towards Flint, until they were now down to 30 feet.

Youse got me Marshal. Come on, now, just slap the cuffs on me and git it over with.

Flint suddenly smiled as he understood what was going on and holstered his Glock 22 in its’ appendix holster. The exact opposite of what anyone would do in this situation.

Davies froze, as he read the cold look on Flint’s face. His bluff had been called out. Flint knew about the officer’s weapon he had stolen.

Standing there with his hand on his hip, Arthur Flint stared at Jody Davies’ brown eyes and flashed the U.S. Marshal star near his trigger finger under the twilight sun.

I want you to be very aware of one thing, Mr. Davies. The last time we did this tango, it didn’t end so well for you. Are you sure you want to be dancing this close again?

Cos I don’t pull, unless I shoot to kill.

Somehow … the last time, I made a mistake with you.

I don’t plan on repeating that err.

So … what is going to be Jody? We gonna settle this like regular human beings, or outlaw style?

Jody Davies looked at Arthur Flint and felt his own resolve hardening. He had the drop on the Marshal just a second ago, didn’t he? There was also no way he was going back to prison. That wasn’t an option. Besides the Marshal had to clear his shirt to draw his Glock. Maybe it would get caught on the shirt. Maybe his finger would hit the mag release and all his ammo would drop out.

The last time they had drew, Davies knew that he almost caught Flint out. Just maybe, ol’ Jody was actually faster this time.

There was only one way of finding out. Davies felt his hand slowly creep back to the big pistol he had tucked in the waistband of his jeans.

Arthur Flint kept his eyes trained on Davies the entire time. The moment was coming. The tension was rising. Jody Davies had no intention of going down without a fight.

Besides, there was the fact that he had killed an officer of the law.

Flint was old-school … an eye for an eye, may the best man win. There were too many dumb, stupid hicks out in the world, to lose sleep over the murder of another.

The way Flint saw it, if a man was willing to die for his ill cause, it might as well be his sword that killed him.

The seconds ticked over, but it felt like hours. Davies felt his hand start to bead over with sweat and it getting increasingly clammy. The silence was unlike anything he had ever experienced. The whole world seemed to shrink until it was just the figure of Arthur Flint, standing there, as cold as death, his hand on his hip, the U.S. Marshal star glinting in the sun, seemingly burning a hole in his mind with how bright it was. The hat he wore, covered his left eye just so, all Davies could see was the cold glimmer in Flint’s right emerald.

A wind blew through both of them, Davies felt he was getting colder, despite the searing heat of the twilight sun.

Marshal .. I just got one thing to say to youse …

I’ll see youse in …

Davies’ right hand whipped behind him and grasped the cold steel of the gun.

Flint’s shirt flew up and his hand grasped the warm metal grip of his Glock 22, and the weapon was flipped from side to straight in a nanosecond and spoke twice eloquently.

Davies’ right hand was still outstretched, far away from the silhouette of Flint, when he fell to the ground, a stunned looked on his face, that slowly replaced by pain. Flint, with his Glock 22 still at hip height, fired once more, his arm now outstretched, finishing off the convict that tried escaping.

Looking down at the pool of blood that was creeping across the front of the Kentucky shirt and behind the lifeless eyes, Arthur Flint holstered his Glock, kicked away the gun, and took out his phone.

This is U.S. Marshal Arthur Flint. I’m going to need a ambulance and a coroner. The Jody Davies case is resolved.

What? No … It’s not for me. There’s a civilian who needs looking after.

Huh? Yeah. It was legal.

He drew first. I shot him.

Author’s Note.

Drawing heavy and I mean …. excessive inspiration from one of my all-time favourite shows, Justified, Flint & Powder was actually slow to start but then once I remembered some of my favourite episodes and lines, the flow and unravelling of the story became a lot easier. In fact, the final line is stolen verbatim from the first episode.

I shall be waxing lyrical about Justified soon, once I rewatch a couple more episodes. Rest assured there will be plenty of quotations about that show and my big man-crush on Timothy Olyphant.

While I have yet to read any of Elmore Leonard’s work, I do plan on doing so very soon, as a good crime writer is always of interest to me.

In addition, I stole from Ian Fleming, his habit of writing literal phonetic spelling of certain words, like youse or gawd to add extra flavour to the reading experience.

Hope it was fun reading! This was more in line with being a short story than it is a screenplay.

~ Damocles.

The American from Europe (Screenplay)

Akaiito – Modern Japanese Restaurant/Bar in Melbourne.

INT. RESTAURANT

The underground bar is well lit and accented by red stripes that give the atmosphere an attractive, seductive glow. The place is busy, with waiters attending tables and patrons laughing, chatting excitedly about their week.

However in the very far back, in an all red booth, are seated an attractive couple; DANIEL and EVELYN. Daniel is the classic young, American whose temperment has been softened by Europe’s culture. Evelyn is an older woman, still in excellent shape, and with a fun English vibe. They are both dressed in classic 1940s cocktail evening wear; Evelyn wearing a simple black dress that emphasise her curves, accessorised with a string of pearls around her neck. Daniel is more casual, with an elegant black and white suit combination, the top two buttons on his shirt are undone, and his bow tie is hanging loosely around his collar.

They command attention with their poise and charisma and people can be seen looking in their direction distractedly, entranced by this power couple.

The beginnings of a meal is scattered on their table and Daniel lifts his glass to sip at his cocktail, mirroring Evelyn’s movement. Neither of them are bothered by the attention they seem to attract.

DANIEL

No … I don’t have a plan yet.

EVELYN

That’s unlike you Danny, dear.

DANIEL

I just got out.

EVELYN

How long was it again? 2 years?

DANIEL

and … 3 months, but I wasn’t really keeping track.

EVELYN

No doubt, those extra 3 months helped you reformed …

DANIEL

It’s only been 2 days since I was a citizen again.

EVELYN

Yet here we are, eating and drinking like a couple would.

DANIEL

I only thought of you, whilst locked away, Evy.

Evelyn laughs uproariously, and places a hand on Daniel’s cheek. Daniel gives her, his most roguish and flirtatious smile.

EVELYN

I see that brazen American inside of you coming out. Europe has not softened you at all.

DANIEL

I made sure if I was to go away, it was to be as comfortable as possible. Italy seemed appropriate.

EVELYN

(smiling) Come on, Danny. Don’t tease me like this … haven’t I been good to you?

Daniel gives her a mischievous look and leans in, close to her ears. Evelyn, holding her drink away, listens intently as Daniel whispers.

She reels back after the final sentence and stares incredulously at Daniel. Daniel shrugs back at her nonchalantly and takes another drink, before motioning the waiter over.

DANIEL

We’ll have our main courses now. Can you please give the lady your Robata toothfish and I’ll be having the Lobster tempura. Oh and can you get us your Akaiito Deluxe Nigiri Platter and … your Spice and Ice cocktail.

How about you, Evy? Another drink?

EVELYN

(recovering from her shock) I’ll have one of your Niigata cold sake. Thank you.

WAITER

Of course. I’ll be right back with your meals shortly!

Daniel waited until the waiter was out of earshot, before smiling at Evelyn, who lightly slaps him on the shoulder, in a angry but playful manner.

EVELYN

Bastard. I should have you shipped back to Italy for that little stunt. You always find such naughty ways to embarrass me.

DANIEL

Forgive me Evy. Being locked away has robbed me of my manners.

EVELYN

You’re lucky, you are my favourite protege.

DANIEL

Well, you are my favourite patron. So the feeling is mutual. I do owe most of my success to you.

EVELYN

And don’t you forget it, you impudent rogue. Now, tell me more about this job.

Daniel let the mischievous air drop and a cunning expression crept across his handsome features.

DANIEL

(quietly and seriously) It’s never been tried. At least … not by someone like me.

EVELYN

You mean, by a well financed, professional collector with a shady past and thieving fingers?

DANIEL

(waving his hands around with the flair of a magician) Abracadabra.

EVELYN

(laughing) Come one Danny, try to be serious, darling.

DANIEL

(smirking) Very well, as I was saying, before an attractive woman interrupted me, it’s never been tried. Never in this country. For a place with such a strong criminal history, people here are very law-abiding. Naturally, I don’t want to raise a big furore in a place like this, but it is very untested here.

EVELYN

How do you know that?

DANIEL

Let’s just say, the past 27 months weren’t all in vain, Evy.

Evelyn looks at Daniel, and notes his serious expression. There is a pregnant pause as she considers what he just said. Just as the answer dawns on her, the waiter interrupts with their meal.

WAITER

I have here, a Robata toothfish and a sake?

Evelyn motions to her side of the table, still staring at Daniel.

WAITER

And …. the Lobster Tempura and Spice and Ice cocktail?

DANIEL

Thank you, kindly.

WAITER

Enjoy your meal!

As the Waiter waltzes off, Evelyn continued to stare at Daniel, as he takes an appreciative bite of the lobster.

EVELYN

You mean to tell me, that you locked yourself away for 2 years … on purpose?!? What on earth for?

Daniel looks sideways at Evelyn and smiles enigmatically. He continues to focus on his meal, preferring her to digest the news he is telling her. Evelyn is pointedly ignoring her food. The mystery is consuming her.

EVELYN

You allowed yourself to get captured … I should have known better than to assume that you would ever get caught at a diamond exchange. 27 months … there was something in that prison. You wanted to get sent to that specific prison didn’t you. My God … did you meet Renard?

Daniel nods proudly and takes a sip from his cocktail.

DANIEL

I was only meant to stay in that shit-hole for 12 months. But there was so much I needed to learn.

EVELYN

So you caused a ruckus and made sure you were stuck there for another year …

DANIEL

I got an extra 3 months for insubordination. The Warden was happy to see me go. Renard … less so.

EVELYN

You chose to lock yourself away for research purposes. Even by your standards Danny, that is insane.

DANIEL

Titian demands that level of research.

EVELYN

It must have annoyed you to know that the Venus of Urbino was going to be moved to here.

DANIEL

Actually, on the contrary, I was relieved. Renard had told me of the difficulties he faced against the Antiquities Squad in Rome. Hopefully the Australian variant will prove less tenacious.

EVELYN

So the plan I assume is a trip to Southbank?

Daniel nods as he finishes up his meal.

DANIEL

I hear the opera is lovely this time of the year. I’ve always wanted to catch the finale show.

Evelyn looks at Daniel, her eyes trying to penetrate her favourite thief’s inscrutable mind.

EVELYN

You clever bastard.

DANIEL

As I said, Evy … 27 months weren’t spent in vain. I want that Venus as much as you do.

Daniel motions to the waiter once more with a flirtatious smile which is returned.

WAITER

Hi, how can I help you again?

DANIEL

Just two of your Apple Tarts please. You’re doing an amazing job tonight.

WAITER.

Thank you so much. I’ll put the order through for you!

DANIEL

Thanks sweetheart.

Evelyn looks over at Daniel curious and with renewed respect.

EVELYN

You’re practising aren’t you?

DANIEL

Was it that obvious?

EVELYN

Only if a girl has known you for more than an week. I assume all this flirtation is for the job at hand … How despicable.

DANIEL

Good thing I never stay anywhere longer than 24 hours.

EVELYN

But you’ll stay for your Venus.

DANIEL

(chuckling) Well, there is always one is there? Besides I heard you were in town.

EVELYN

I should have never accepted those tickets, you sly rogue, you. But thank you. Am I the first person you visited?

Daniel pauses as the desserts arrives. He smiles at the waitress and nods appreciatively as she pauses a second longer than necessary to maintain eye contact. He pointedly ignores her question.

DANIEL

I’m in the cultural capital of Australia. It would be shame if I didn’t stay to enjoy the art.

EVELYN

(with bemusement) Amongst other things … I do wonder, my dear Danny, how did you ever give your parole officer the slip?

DANIEL

I have a VPN … (smiling) I’m kidding. An old friend is posing for me back in Rome.

EVELYN

Not that despicable Rory?

DANIEL

The one and the same.

EVELYN

Next time you see him, remind him of the diamond he stills owns me.

Daniel smiles and chuckles to himself as if he remembers seeing the exact diamonds, the last time he saw Rory. Evelyn takes an appreciative bite of the Apple tart in front of her.

EVELYN

You know Danny, you never told me why you want this Venus as much as you do now. Don’t say that just because I want it for my private viewing, means you are equally entranced. What is the real reason?

DANIEL

27 months … is a long time to think about anything. I only ever gave one man my attention. Titian. I can tell you everything about the guy. How he died, where he lived … what brushes he liked to use … I can identify every single one of his paintwork by brushwork alone.

(pauses in reflection)

More importantly, Renard has never stolen a Titian. He told me just before I left, I was to continue his work. I aim to do just that … I will become the new Fox.

Evelyn nods in approval. She raises her glass silently and they toast together, to a new legend of a thief and the daring art heist that will rock Melbourne to the core.

Author’s Note

I seem to have a fixation on writing scenes in bars. Perhaps it’s my own personal vice coming through, but bar conversations just seem to have a life and rhythm of their own, in comparison to other settings.

I have obviously modelled this screenplay of the idea of An American in Europe, in particular, George Clooney, who has always struck me as a very unique American male role model.

While he possesses the accent and upbringing of an American, he is clearly a much more Europhile at heart, judging from his enthusiastic endorsement of coffee, his tailoring, his films (The American (2010) is an excellent example) and his enviable Lake Como estate. Even his wife, after years of self-imposed bachelorhood, is a quintessential European beauty, with the brains and wits to match.

I have always found this a vaguely, romantic notion, that American movie stars can have the looks and charms of an All-American, whilst retaining a sophisticated European sense of style and mannerism, as they used to in the old days of Sinatra, Bogart, Hepburn, Kelly and other icons of the Golden Era.

Clooney, with his handsome looks, mannerisms and sophistication gives me a similar impression. I tried to make Daniel (a clear reference to Clooney’s best known character, Daniel Ocean from the Ocean Trilogy) similar, in that sense. I was also basing a tiny bit of the character on Napoleon Solo from the film The Man from U.N.C.L.E . (2010) which features a character exactly as I described … an American thief, with European affectations.

Evelyn’s design was more or less tailored around the always wonderful female characters that seem to inhabit British gangster films. She’s greedy, fun, petty and powerful. I had a lot of fun putting little British touches in her dialogue and honestly, she was quite easy to write.

One day though, I will have to write a proper heist sequence, explaining in how detail how one of my heists would actually be pulled off.

Until the next one!

~ Damocles

MUSE (IMPACT Series)

Chris Wolstenholme (bass), Matt Bellamy (vocals, guitar & keyboard) and Dominic Howard (drums) doing their best impression of a English rock band.

Welcome to the IMPACT series where I dissect notable and iconic sequences from games and movies, and how they broadened my mind and left a lasting impression on me, years to come. 

She burns like the sun
And I can’t look away
And she’ll burn our horizons
Make no mistakes

– Sunburn from the album Showbiz

The Backdrop.

I am a former pianist.

Reluctantly talented and recalcitrant about showing any of my skill to anyone, I was pigeon-holed into learning the piano when I was very young, approximately 7 years old.

I say pigeon-holed, because I had no real concept of what was going on, and didn’t realise that this was a typically egotistical Asian parenting method enforced on many young boys and girls at my age.

For some bizarre reason, all Asian parents have an obsession with classical music and enjoy putting their child through the musical wringer in order to boast to other Asian parents at just how talented their child was at banging keys on a board or moving a string across other strings in a cacophony of shrill sounds and clacks of long fingernails on ivory.

I played for my parents, my grandparents, random people … 4x in a concert hall … everyone except myself.

As you can probably tell … I am still embittered about this Asian tradition.

But what is the key behind this anecdote?

Classical music.

That was all I heard for the majority of my childhood. My father was obsessed with classical music. He incessantly bought endless CDs and played them relentlessly. The only sounds I would experience was classic. I played classical, lived classical and heard classical.

The man was so obsessed, be bestowed upon me, my middle name, ripped from Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart.

So imagine my incredible shock, when a friend introduced me to the sounds of MUSE.

MUSE along with DREAM THEATER were my first real taste of music outside the prison of classical and ever since … I have never looked back once, obsessed with all types of music from synth, pop, jazz, metal, electronic and even begrudgingly listening to old operas.

Nothing would or will whet my appetite for music.

There are two items that I consider essentials in my life and they are called headphones and an Ipod.

I can lose everything else, but never those items.

Knights of Cydonia – A bizarre schlocky tune that perfectly captures the vibe of a Western Space Epic made in the style of 80s cheap B-Movies.

The Impact.

MUSE is known for its experimental style. Every album of theirs has them exploring all avenues of music. In fact, I like to think of MUSE as the band that creates an album that I absolutely despise at the beginning because it sounds so damn different to anything else they created before.

Then I wait for 2 months, and I recall their singles from that new album in my head. I visit it again … and somehow it hits different and suddenly, my opinion changes like a switch, from sickening disgust to rabid enthusiasm.

This has been the case since I was first in love with the first three albums that I was exposed to … Absolution (2003), Black Holes and Revelations (2006) and Showbiz (1999). I somehow skipped Origin of Symmetry (2001) for the longest time, but it was The Resistance (2009) where I was saying … “What the hell is this? This isn’t similar to Assassin.”

However over time, I grew to appreciate just how dynamic MUSE has remained in comparison to some of my other favourite bands. Each album continues to explore the themes that the band wants to tackle and do so in a way to really show how much passion they still have for their music.

Simulation Theory (2018) is a prime example of that. Diving full blown into the current 80s fever, MUSE throws their spin on synth, power-rock and electronic pop. The soundscape heard in Algorithm could not be any further removed from their cover of Feeling Good way back in 2001.

But the signature of MUSE is still there. Bellamy’s falsetto voice floating high, near operatic levels, whilst the experimental sounds crafted by Wolstenholme, Howard and Bellamy himself, buzz away underneath, eventually drowning out the vocals in a glorious mess of guitars, drums and pianos.

Even their MVs (Music Videos) carry over that same manic energy of constant innovation and a desire to be different every time. Some of their earliest songs like Hysteria has this incredibly grimy and Se7en like atmosphere to them, with a real narrative and style that seems to be in complete harmony with the music being played. It is disturbing and haunting … a stark contrast to the crimson themed, dream like bizarro atmosphere of Feeling Good, a song only released 2 years prior.

I mean, the latest series of MVs has Terry Crews fighting Gremlin like creatures and hacking a algorithm that is purported to hold the answer whether life is just a simulation.

Time is Running OutOne of the first songs I ever really fell in love with.

The Enrichment

MUSE opened my eyes to the huge variety of sounds that can be found in the world. They not only freed me from my prison, they comprehensively smashed it to pieces and told me to find the sounds that could be waiting for me, if I looked hard enough.

Now with a collection of music that could play for 127.5 days, and over 2767 albums, I can’t thank MUSE enough for introducing me to all kind of music.

Beyond that, I also grew to appreciative modern music more. After all, a band that can create songs like the intriguing Time is Running Out, the sensual Undisclosed Desires and rocky New Born and the revolution march Resistance has to be worth celebrating.

They also happened to be the perfect band to be exposed to as a teenager, with their hard and soft songs able to really help me channel some of the emotional excess I was experiencing at the time.

I have always found myself a kindred spirit to the Brits, so MUSE allowed me to explore that aspect of myself more, diving deeper into British styled music, and how the Brits can express themselves in truly zany ways, to compensate for the iconic stiff British resolve.

The Culmination.

MUSE was the gateway drug into the world of music for me. Their songs really allowed me to appreciate how modern composers can twist, turn and transform sounds, despite certain things on paper not really making any real sense.

How does a falsetto like Bellamy accompany the rock-like grunge that the band is producing? Only MUSE could work it out and make it an Platinum record.

Even now, as I revisit their songs, to prepare this post, I am still shocked at their ability to create such unique sounds and melodies that make me want to shake my head and scream along with them.

The dream then, is one day to attend their concert and truly see their mastery at work. I still recall downloading HAARP (2008), their iconic Live Album and thinking to myself, What the hell … these guys sound even better live!!

Take a Bow MUSE, because you’ve certainly achieved a legendary status in my mind and created inside me a Stockholm Syndrome for your Hyper Music.

IMPACT

~ Damocles

Once formally known as the Rocket Baby Dolls … I almost wish they kept that namesake. But MUSE just looks and sounds way better.

UZUMAKI (IMPACT Series)

Kirieinnocent beauty drawn and designed to perfection.

Welcome to the IMPACT series where I dissect notable and iconic sequences from games and movies, and how they broadened my mind and left a lasting impression on me, years to come. 

Spirals.

The Backdrop.

Recommended to me by a friend, Uzumaki by Junji Ito was one of the first manga I had read since my days in high school, having fallen out of love with the style and genre (hint: too many goddamn volumes).

To put it bluntly … I was thoroughly under-prepared for what was to come.

A Lovecraftian styled horror, based around the central theme of spirals, which are a common motif in Japanese culture (fishcakes to Zen gardens), Uzukami is a brilliant piece of work by renowned horror mangaka Junji Ito.

The manga deftly balances creative ways to twist the innocent symbol of a spiral with a foreboding atmosphere, to create body horror artwork that showcases Ito’s incredible visual style, blurring the line between horror and beauty.

The story follows Kirie, a young woman trapped in her coastal town, Kurozou-cho, as supernatural spirals begin to take over the denizens and twist them in increasingly bizarre ways.

Uzumaki kept me up for 2 nights, a no small feat. The story gripped me so thoroughly that I almost read all 3 volumes in a single sitting, after my first initial shock.

Shuichi’s father obsessing over spirals … much like how I became entranced by the story after the first chapter.

The Impact.

Like any good book, Uzumaki works best in a written format. Whilst I was unable to track down a physical copy, I was grateful that an online version kept the format relatively the same. What made Uzumaki work so particularly well, as the fact that it actually understands the actual concept of turning a page to properly shock you.

The end of the first initial chapter, ended with such a spectacularly gruesome, creative and bizarre image that I couldn’t actually stomach reading another page.

I had to stop and literally stare, my eyes transfixed by what I was looking at.

In a lot of ways, Junji Ito’s style remind me of H.R. Giger. Both men are capable of creating such twisted and bizarrely beautiful forms that your mind is unable to fully comprehend all the details that are being shown to you.

In Ito though, there is a simplistic beauty to his work, in contrast to Giger’s overly detailed art. Ito grabs you with his incredible eye for the right detail, so that his artistic creations get all the horrific glory they deserve amongst the more traditional beauty of his backgrounds and main leads.

In particular, there is an lovely juxtaposition Ito employs in all of his work, from Tomie to The Enigma at Amigara Fault. In all of his work, people are drawn beautifully, with particular attention paid to the hair, eyes and facial expressions. There is a simplistic faithfulness to the human expression, that is magnified further when people are screaming or reacting in horror to what is happening. It is this ability to craft people with varying details, from glasses, larger noses or different hair that make Junji Ito’s worlds seem realistic, thus magnifying the horror of the supernatural that occurs within them.

I was particularly struck by the accuracy in the way how Ito drew Shuichi‘s slow descent into nihilistic depression, that is only stirred momentarily by his love for Kirie.

Kirie in particular impressed me. I am always in awe at how beautiful the women in Ito’s worlds look. There is a tragic innocence to her beauty that only heighten the horror around her and make you long for her to escape intact, away from the situation she finds herself in.

In a lot of ways, Junji Ito’s artwork reminds me of Japanese aesthetic and style in general. Simplicity and obsessive attention to detail in equal measure, harmony achieved through a marriage of simplicity and complexity.

The moment I saw this, I knew that this story would only continue to worsen. Like a moth drawn to a electric light, I kept going even if it meant the doom of peaceful sleep.

The Enrichment

Beyond the obvious exposure to Japanese Horror which is, like everything concerning the Land of the Rising Sun, solely unique to the Japanese culture, Uzumaki made me appreciate the art of turning a page.

I realise now that there is a conscious decision to turn a page and actually be willing to commit yourself to what surprise is on the next page.

I was so used to what I call the Matthew Reilly effect, where I am so hooked into the pace of the story, that pages almost seem to flip themselves. I call it the Matthew Reilly effect, because his “airplane thrillers”, books you can read in a single sitting on a flight, are so furiously paced that you almost look like a adrenaline junkie reading his novels.

His books are like the ultimate, fast paced thrillers … they hit you so hard and fast, you’re on the floor gasping before you even register what just happened.

With Uzumaki I experienced the opposite. I didn’t want to see what was on the next page. Each page turn was a decision made purely out of morbid curiosity. I was afraid of what I was going to see, my imagination unable to keep pace with the twisted genius of Ito.

In some respects, reading a Junji Ito book is a lot like exploring abandoned buildings. You have absolutely no idea what is around the corner. But it is dark, moody, terrifying and somehow your feet propel you forward despite the dangers.

You approach each corner, expecting the worst, slowly and with a fast-beating heart.

Only in Uzumaki, you actually encounter something way worse than a squatter asleep in a corner of a room.

Another thing I learned to appreciate is the way how body horror works. What I am terrified of the Alien in the film Alien, isn’t the actual creature itself. It is the fact that it inserts its’ bizarre appendage inside of you and creates something inside of you, that burst out of your chest.

Body horror in Uzumaki takes a whole new meaning, with snails, hair, pseudo-cannibalism, pregnancy and drills. Ito even throws in a goddamn Jack-In-The-Box horror gimmick that never made me look at a car the same way again. Each fresh take on the spiral drove me further and further into the story, my initial revulsion now twisted into a bizarre obsession with how Junji would interpret the spiral in new horrific ways.

I completely understand now, why body horror is arguably one of the worst genres. The idea that your body can transform into a nest of thorns or is inextricably linked with thousands of others in a mass of limbs is unsettling in the extreme and I can still picture Ito’s all-too-detailed artwork depicting those situations.

Body horror … that stuff will never make you look at your body in the same way again …The Fly (1986) anyone?

The final element that really helped me become a fan of Junji Ito’s work, was his exploration and mastery of Japanese Horror. Horror in a Japanese setting has always been it’s own creative niche.

It predominantly plays on the aesthetic of Japanese culture, which is full of simple, clean lines that really plays with light in a special way, capable of creating vibrant atmosphere or moody shadows. J-Horror also delves heavily into the lonely, isolated psyche, with suicide and a certain fatalistic acceptance of fate being key themes that influence the narrative.

In Uzumaki, Junji Ito uses the coastal isolation of Kurozou-cho as a prison of sorts, to seal the town to it’s fate. The people are unable to escape the overwhelming power and influence of the spiral, thus touching on the fatalistic themes of J-Horror. This inability to do anything about what is happening, is a signature of Lovecraftian Horror, in which characters are literally powerless to the whims and desires of the supernatural acting on them.

There is actually a bit of a strange link between Kurozou-cho and the H.P. Lovecraft novel, The Shadow Over Innsmouth which features a similar plot and atmosphere to Uzumaki, in that a quiet town on the coastline is experiencing supernatural phenomena, only in Lovecraft’s novel, it is the doing of the Deep Ones.

I particularly despise reading Lovecraftian Horror novels, as they invoke such a strong feeling of fatalism, helplessness and dread. I hate that sensation of powerlessness, that nothing you do can prolong the inevitable. As a rebellious bastard, this is the ultimate form of horror that can be conjured up.

Zombies can be shot, Lycans can be neutralized by silver, Vampyrs by garlic, crucifixes and stakes and Kaijus overwhelmed by firepower.

But the one thing that can never be defeated are the Old Ones and that … is something I find deeply disturbing.

Which is why the atmosphere of dread works so brilliantly well in Uzumaki. Once drawn in, you can only go deeper and deeper into the spiral. There is no way out.

What the fuck. Why am I reading this still? Why do I keep feeding my nightmare fuel? I remember thinking to myself when I saw her eyeball just … disappear into the void of a spiral.

The Culmination.

Uzumaki by Junji Ito is a masterpiece of manga writing. It is a tour-de-force of Ito’s creativity and interest in the horror genre and an actual piece of artwork in its’ own right.

It is Ito’s arguably most complete work as well, with a relatively clear overarching narrative and a lot of fun and bizarre ways to interpret the spiral. I must credit him for his ability to keep the theme of the spiral going through each iteration of horror, because I will confess to not really seeing that many spirals in nature itself.

Even now, whenever I see a spiral, I get this strange feeling of dread, something that I associate directly to this manga. What was once an innocent symbol, has now been indelibly linked to Junji Ito’s work.

That … is talent and a clear example of how badly (in a good way) Uzumaki has affected me.

If you have the time, definitely go buy a copy of Uzumaki, as all 3 volumes are now compiled into 1 cohesive book.

I will say, the images in this blog post are just some of the artwork that Junji created. I deliberately avoided some of the best and most shocking parts to ensure you get maximum enjoyment upon your first foray into the world of Uzumaki.

Even as a non-horror fan, I was entranced all the way through and that is why it has left such a strong impression on me.

I hadn’t felt a proper rush in reading something truly original in years when I first started the first page of Uzumaki and to this day, I am thankful my friend recommended me it, despite being thoroughly horrified and potentially scarred by the whole experience.

IMPACT

~ Damocles

The fate of their story still occasionally haunts me. So much beauty amongst such ugliness.

The Well of Sorrow

Uzumaki – Junji Ito

Every so often, when I find myself stuck for ideas, I like to hold up a mirror to my face in the dark and stare.

The darkness that surrounds my face, magnifies what I really want to see … the darkness within, bubbling away on the surface of my subconscious.

The mirror is warped in my mind’s eye and all I can really see is the bizarre and twisted visage of me, when I am grieving, sad and self-destructive.

The Damocles that stares back is hideous to say the least. His eyes are completely black, with strange viscous liquid pouring from the corner of his eyes. His mouth is an endless void, devoid of teeth, the blackened lips opened in a soundless scream. The face of this Damocles is always desperate to tear itself free from the black void that surrounds it. There is always something that tears at him and he never seems to have the strength to free himself.

This is the Damocles that reminds me how to embrace the darkness within.

It is this version of myself that really gets me going and being creative again.

If you are asking why … that is a valid enough concern. I’m not a suicidal person. Nor do I consider myself depressed or particularly anxious.

Far from it … I’ve learnt to master a lot of those excessive emotional states when I was younger. Mostly through an extreme combination of rigorous mental deconstruction and egotistical arrogance.

Nowadays, I love myself too much to consider death, learnt to channel anxiety through a heightened sense of paranoia and observational awareness and gotten through depression by voiding and ignoring all thoughts of nihilism, in pursuit of personal glory.

What I believe though, is that this odd state is what happens, generally, to creative people when they are stuck. You need to be in a strange state in order to create. For me, it is staring deep inside and acknowledging the twisted version of myself.

I like putting myself in a state of fear, a strange paradox where the only thing I am truly afraid of … is myself.

If that sounds odd, then I would argue that within us all, is a bizarre desire to be self-destructive. Why else do we do extreme things to apparently feel something? Drinking, Gambling, Speeding, Toxic Relationships, Unhealthy Work-Life Balance … the list goes on.

In fact, I suspect the main reason why it is so difficult to remain healthy, in any period of history, is because we are always in a state of self-implosion. We always seem to be in a rush, always eager to do something rash and foolish, despite the dangers that our subconscious warns us about.

Take a good hard look at yourself, and wonder … why do you do the things you do? Beyond money … is there a real purpose behind your work? Your life? Your daily choices?

It is out of nihilism that you find purpose and meaning to defy the treacherous arms of that type of thinking.

This is why I choose to fear myself, above everything else. By putting myself in that state … I can find meaning and purpose and ideas.

Out of the void, comes light.

What is difficult for me though, is maintaining the right balance of dark and light. I can’t draw too much from this Well of Sorrow lest it consumes me and push me onto a path I don’t want to travel down.

After all, a big reason why people are afflicted with so much mental problems is because they continue to draw from their own personal Well and drink so much of it, that it clouds their thinking, causing them to lose purpose and drive.

It is all too easy to lose sight of oneself, when you are always in a state of drowning.

Bathe if you must, but never submerge yourself.

I used to wallow in my own Well. As an angry, despondent and purposeless man, this seemed like the best mental state to be in. Nothing mattered, little things would cause anger and resentment and I couldn’t laugh at myself, arguably the biggest sin of them all. I took everything with a seriousness it didn’t deserve, and would lash out frequently at friends, family, and strangers.

This is what happens when you indulge in the Well too much. Your ego becomes fragile, your confidence disappears, and anxiety, not awareness, turns into paranoia and self-sabotage.

You blame the world for your problems, not realising that your choice to drink from the poisoned chalice is what is truly causing everything to go wrong.

So why is it addicting? Why do I need it to be creative?

It is addicting, because it is so easy. Life seems easier knowing that you have nothing to do with it, you don’t contribute, you don’t participate nor engage with life. Nothing matters, says your twisted mind …

How wrong that all is. Of course things matter. Your health matter, your self belongs somewhere and you have value. You just need to create and become something you know you can be. You need to find work that fulfil and sustains you, your lifestyle and your health.

You just need to learn how to enjoy life. Let the money flow, the good times roll, and your body relax.

There needs to be a lovely cycle, where you work strenuously and efficiently, hard and well … so that when the end of the week, when you relax and actually enjoy a good meal, a drink and a pastime, it all feels worth it.

Learning to appreciate finer food, after dieting for a week, is a great way to recover your mental energy.

But life isn’t always perfect like that. Sometimes, I get this incredibly annoying sensation that I am not doing enough. This bereft feeling will drive me insane until I have this urge to write.

However, what do I write about? How do I enter my flow state, where words, mind, paper and pen become one? Only by indulging in the Well of Sorrow, by having a small drink, do I unlock my ability to write semi-well.

But that is the thing about the Well, every time I drink from it, I feel vaguely disgusted with myself. There is a strange symbiotic relationship that I have with the darker version of myself. It is almost parasitic even.

I do wish I could be frequently creative and able to enter the flow state at a whim without resorting to the Well of Sorrow, because whenever I do drink from it, it always seem to take a lot out of me at once. I can’t sleep, I don’t eat properly and there is only the insane desire to write.

This isn’t healthy nor conducive to my full-time work nor my overall health.

I especially wish I could use my creative ability under pressure. There are only rare occasions when I have to use my writing ability under the clock, but every time I am left with a piece of work that is disappointing and poorly written. I truly and honestly, wish I could be more workmanlike with my skill, as would make life a lot easier.

Especially when it comes to something fun, like the 48HR Film Project, which is a fun challenge that my friends and I like to do. But every time I am under that type of pressure to write a screenplay or a script, everything seems to fall apart, much to my dismay and annoyance.

I suppose that is why this blog is so eclectic in its content. Only when I am soul-searching like I am now, or gripped in the vices of the Well of Sorrow do you see new writing appear.

I just hope one day I can put that Well to rest and find some new ways to inspire me to create.

~ Damocles.

Hell Week …. Embracing the Suck

Drown-proofing.

This week, I’ve finally experienced some form of burn-out at work.

May has started with a weariness I didn’t expect, especially after the high of the end of April. This week, from the 3rd to the 9th has been one of bizarre lethargic shifts, lack of athletic prowess and a low-energy vibe running throughout the entire experience.

My lack of fighting spirit resulted in multiple days where time seemed to stretch on forever, and even now as I write during my shift, on Mother’s Day, this 4 hour stint at work has dragged on for what seems like infinity. I suspect if I die and am sent to hell, and I’m not a very religious guy, my personal hell would designed around a sheer lack of speed and efficiency. I would go mad with insanity at the pace in which life seem to drag on forever.

But let’s avoid giving the ruler of the underworld any more ideas.

This week has served as a crucial reminder to me to get a move on with my life. The conditions at my retail store has deteriorated to such a level, that I am now desperate to quit, instead of sticking around for longer.

It all started on Monday, when out of the blue, without any real warning, there was a call to consolidate stock across the entirety of Victoria and relocate excess stock found in one store to another lacking it.

This meant that I, on my own, had to pack over 100 different SKUs (stock keeping unit) into boxes and have them individually sorted for 13 different stocks across Victoria.

I was given until the EOD (End of Day) Tuesday to accomplish this task.

24 hours. Solo. 7 hours per shift, and still having to serve customers, up-sell, get membership and tell customers about promotions.

I was not given any extra help, because my staff were unable to come in on such short notice and that is not how my company operates.

They took items away from my store, that I knew would sell and boost my sales numbers if they had stayed. Now, instead of being a highly productive and profitable store, it would suffer due to the lack of stock. They had leveled the playing field, so that instead of several good stores, we were now all equally shit.

I was livid.

They were asking the impossible, demanding the ridiculous and cavalier with their care for staff. I knew my area manager would never order such an unreasonable request. It had to be higher up.

I immediately voiced my complaint to her in the weekly meeting. She was diplomatic and hinted that it was upper management’s fault.

I gave a very strongly worded complaint to the head of HR. It was ignored for 2 days before they came back to me. The answer was corporate bullshit, barely apologetic and served only to irritate me further.

I ended up pushing my physical limits in my shift of Tuesday to finish the job. EOD Tuesday meant that surely they would pick up the huge stack of boxes I had made by that very night right? What was the point of putting such a ridiculous deadline if it wasn’t urgent?

To my incredulity, they didn’t bother to pick it up until Thursday evening. I was extremely unhappy. I talked shit about the company to my group of friends I had made. I complained and whinged to other managers. One of them was sympathetic and had been vocal in her defence of her staff. The answers she received back showed her the true colours of upper management.

“We don’t care about the morale of your staff. My boss told me to get it done and so now I’m telling you to do it.”

She was so shocked and embittered that she decided to hand in her resignation. They didn’t even thank her properly. Just wished her well on whatever next journey she would take on.

She is the manager of one of the flagship stores in Melbourne. An invaluable asset. An incredibly hard worker, with the ability to turn any store around into something special. She had inherited the flagship store when it was in utter shambles and doing remarkably poorly. It was she who stabilised it, molded it into something neater, fuller and more profitable.

She was let go without a second’s thought. As if, someone of her experience and work ethic would just come along and take over her role with ease.

I couldn’t believe it. This was bordering on the ludicrous. Verging on the very edge of lunacy.

This corpo style of swapping out people like tools was like an anathema to me. In all my years of being a leader, I had always prided myself on looking after my people. I would treat all my volunteers, from newbies to veterans, with all the same care and loyalty. I liked to inspire people to follow me.

I didn’t see them as tools. I saw them as important friends and people that helped me achieve something special. I would never swap them out if they didn’t want to quit. If they left, I would say no hard feelings and accept it. If they stayed, I would reward them and make sure I looked after them.

My retail store offered neither of these experiences.

All these revelations occurred on Wednesday as I walked around the store, oddly despondent and lackadaisical. It was like a getting hit with a emotional hammer. I had kind of enjoyed my new role as a manager. It was difficult and tough, but I thought I was doing alright and that the company kind of had my back, despite the hardships.

I couldn’t be more wrong. Even worse, the flagship manager actually used to run my store that I had inherited. Upper management, upon hearing I was willing to accept the role, had forced her to move onto the current flagship store. She didn’t have a say in the matter.

To dump guilt atop of the righteous anger I felt … honestly broke something inside of me. I thought she was willing to move, that she was ready for an upgrade to something with even more responsibility. But now, it turned out, I had forced her aside and now she was quitting …

The shame I felt, lasted throughout this entire week. It threw me off my usual exercise routine, off my athletic ability in my weekly friendly game of badminton, off my diet and off my overall energy levels.

Only this part of me, the writer inside, continues to be strong, channeling all my emotional distress into something creative and therapeutic.

To top this entire shitty week off, my obsession with Formula 1 races was ruined by a man who keeps on winning and dominating the sport, in a dominating car and whom the world keep singing praises of constantly.

Having said all of this though, I do feel a bit better. The major lesson I’ve learnt from all of this horribleness is that I need to get a move on and finding a job in the events industry which is where I want to stay for the rest of my life and career.

It is in events that I became something of a leader and innovator, and where I can really help my friends and raise them up with me.

I cannot wait to quit this damn job in a couple of months and wash my hands of this terrible management style.

Somehow, no matter the job, I will always be displeased with someone from up high giving me orders.

Perhaps I really do have Oppositional Defiant Disorder (ODD).

I will always be the odd one out and disobedient and vindictive towards authority.

Associate it with arrogance … define it as defiance … name it non-compliant .. hell, indicate it as insubordination but I’d rather go down swinging than blindly obey orders.

Especially when they don’t make sense and they come from a person who I don’t respect.

I’m a recalcitrant sonvuabitch … and I’ll die that way, being a pain in the ass than meekly accepting my fate.

I’ll take the whole world on, if I think it is wrong.

That is the only way I can come to term with how much things suck. By being headstrong and unruly.

I’ve been here long enough … it’s time to make a move and get the hell out of Dodge.

~ Damocles

Tom Clancy’s Without Remorse (2021) – Cinema Review

Y/N? No.

Director: Stefano Solima

Stars: Michael B. Jordan, Jamie Bell, Jodie Turner-Smith & Guy Pearce.

Review by Damocles.

Please stop giving military action thrillers a bad name with piss-poor entries like this.

Placed in developmental hell for years, Without Remorse more or less fizzle as badly as its explosions on screen.

Watching this film, I was given a keen sense of deja vu regarding one of my earliest attempts at writing film critiques, American Assassin back in 2017 for my burgeoning journalism career in university.

When I watched American Assassin, I was able to predict many of the plot twists, lines and action beats with eerie ease. I had read the source material, and was majorly disappointed with how much they had diverged from the original novel, and how the screenwriters had butchered the original premise which made the book and story so compelling.

In addition, as a keen military researcher and avid shooting fan, I was more or less assaulted with feelings of incredulous disbelief and anger at how wrong a lot of the military advice and equipment were presented in that film.

Without Remorse manages to outdo the feelings I had whilst watching American Assassin and insult the military/espionage thriller genre even further than that film ever did.

Both films suffer from what I call the Call of Duty syndrome, where a lot of the cool moments and action plays out like a sequence in the titular video game series and it is not compelling viewing. I mean, there is even a moment where the main character, John Kelly, shoots a red barrel and it explodes, wounding the enemies around it.

Let that sink in for a second … we have a film where a red barrel explodes.

The video game comparison does not end there however, as this film was co-written by Taylor Sheridan and Will Staples. Sheridan, a man I thought I could trust, especially after his Frontier trilogy, had stirred me back to the reality where even the greats can fall. But it is Will Staples, that I wish to focus on, because there are a lot of moments that truly echo his previous work on the weakest link in the Modern Warfare trilogy …. Call of Duty: Modern Warfare 3.

The plane sequence depicted in the film, echo a lot of the Russian hijacking mission in MW3, as did a lot of the action where our titular heroes seem impervious to gunfire and can shoot with pinpoint accuracy. You can read below in the “MILITARY NITPICKING” for more details on this element. However, spoilers are there, so be forewarned!

I found myself thoroughly underwhelmed by the violence depicted in this film. The PG-13 rating was a terrible mistake, considering this is not the type of film that would be marketed towards children in the first place and a lot more enjoyment would be had if there were proper blood effects in the film. Much of the action sequences were filmed very flatly, without any real energy behind the camera and a lot of the geography and choreography of a fight sequence was confusing or uninspired.

At least in American Assassin there was a lot of blood being sprayed everywhere and some proper gruesome kills.

What made the action even more disenchanting was how “inaccurate” a lot of the military movements on display were. I am not particularly highlighting the tactics and weapon handling (more on that in the section below), but more the way how enemies couldn’t seem to shoot straight, despite only being 5 metres apart, the lack of gunfire actually being employed, and the overall sound design and choreography.

This lends the film a very cheap feel with a lot of the explosions looking flat, the sets equally dull and some of the larger CGI landscapes suffering from a strange uncanny valley feeling. Contrast this to the surprise hit of Extraction (2020) which was filmed on a shoestring budget of 65 million USD, there is a noticeable difference in how a talented director can bring a heightened fun to the film, in spite of limitations, like only being able to use airsoft guns and having to CG all the muzzle flashes and blood. Extraction surpassed expectations by being kinetic in its’ camerawork, starring a more charismatic performance, and creating a more compelling narrative.

Yes, both films have a strange colour tint to it, can look cheap at times, and cast extraordinarily handsome leads but when you compare the two films, you can see how one film is truly trying and the other is just being trying.

However I have waxed lyrical enough about comparing Without Remorse to other similar films on giant streaming platforms. What of the characters, the plot, and the music?

The plot is as generic as it can get, with a lot of film being spoiled in the actual trailers being released. I found the hook regarding the set-up between Russia and the U.S. more compelling than the emotional angle, which is precisely the element that tends to drive the Tom Clancy’s universe. But neither were done particularly well to elevate the film to anything.

The characters are arguably the worst part of the film, with so many thin sketches of characters that it seems almost laughable at how many poor decisions and lines were given to them. Michael B. Jordan does what he can with the material given to him, but not even his natural charisma elevate his character beyond anything but a dull military man obsessed with revenge and somehow being the only one able to piece the puzzle together.

Other characters are given zero arcs and many of them are as forgettable as they come, with no real attempts being made to actually give them time to breathe, emote and play a more compelling part in the narrative.

To care about the action on-screen, is to care about the characters. That is one of the fundamental rules of action cinema.

This film blatantly ignores this film and only sets up the thinnest of lines for secondary characters to off them a few moments later.

I found the performance of Jodie Turner-Smith’s to be particularly stiff. I am still very puzzled as to why she was included in the film, but then her casting as Karen Greer, a inverse female replacement for the venerable “James Greer” never sat well with me, and I was admittedly taken out of the film by the inclusion of a female U.S. Navy SEAL. It did little to help the cause when she barely emoted throughout the film, nor show any signs of actually changing throughout the film.

To clarify, I don’t have an issue with the concept of a female special forces operator, I just wished it was handled better in fiction and reality. An all-female special forces unit, named something else other than SEAL would be just as combat-effective in the right context, but I dislike the idea of lowering BUD/s to accommodate for female operators.

Men and Women are different. There is nothing wrong with that. It should be celebrated that women can do things men can’t and vice versa. Both have their place on the battlefield, just applied in different ways and in different arenas.

Finally, we come to the score by Jonsi.

It can be summed up as “forgettable”. I wished a more talented composer like Ramin Djawadi did work on this film, as his compositions on the short-lived series, Medal of Honor (2010) is actually the perfect contemporary military music for the current era. I have always loved his twin scores for the series and I could easily see it working well in this film.

Note that I haven’t even mentioned anything of substance regarding the cinematography. Because there was none. Everything was shot as flat and dull as possible and even potential interesting moments were filmed so perfunctory, that you almost missed them out of boredom.

Overall, Tom Clancy’s Without Remorse is doubtless an attempt by Amazon to capitalise on the success of their Jack Ryan series and expand their Tom Clancy IP.

I just wished it was a lot better.

There was so much potential here, from the cast to the director and the universe it was set in. I particularly would have liked it more if they removed the typical revenge element and leaned harder into the political spectrum of the story.

There has still not been a good film made where political deals and backroom decisions affect real-time military operations. I think the contrast between the clean, treacherous streets of D.C. and the dirty but brother-like environment of a warzone could really create a unique story and compelling viewing experience.

This was not an enjoyable watch, from a good or bad experience. Instead it proved itself to be the worst kind of film … uninspired and dull, wishing you could take back the hour and a half of your life and pour it into something more productive.

A scene to recall: See the screenshot below … that is the only interesting shot, an image of a Huey flying away on a CG landscape.

The only decent shot in the film … and it doesn’t even feature any stars.

MILITARY NITPICKING (SPOILERS BELOW)

As a keen military nerd (“milsimp”), I was annoyed at the lack of military knowledge they employed in this film. A franchise written by Tom Clancy has always had the latest information and technology employed by the forces in his fictional universe and I was disappointed by the portrayal of the military units in this film. This list below, is probably only targeted at people who are up to speed on the latest military knowledge and tactics so be warned that this is probably useless factual information.

  1. Weapon handling always seem to be a weak point in cinema nowadays. They seem to still be hiring out-of-touch weapon advisors, with very little updates on the latest methodology for the manual of arms. I did not see a single “U.S. Navy SEAL” perform a high ready or low ready placement in the entire film, something that is now commonly taught across all military units in the world.
  2. No doubt due to the budget, but a lot of the “uniforms” used in the film are very … odd choices. The most realistic outfits were equipped at the beginning of the film, but as the film went further and further along, the clothing worn by the men began to stretch the limit of realism. Skinny tactical pants are an unlikely development, even though they look damn good on Michael B. Jordan’s athletic frame. I was particularly disappointed with the outfits they chose for an infiltration into Russia. Where are the infamous Addidas tracksuits? A real military unit would also hesitate to bring people of different ethnicity into country, for the obvious reason of standing out.
  3. Another odd choice were the weapons used by the unit when infiltrating Russia. Where are all the AK weapon platforms? A deep cover unit would be using foreign weapons to blend with the locals. An AK is just as good of a gun as the AR-15 and I don’t see any reasons why they wouldn’t be equipped with tricked out AKs.
  4. To go a little further, I was even more confused when John Kelly character was equipped with an G36K of all weapons. Especially considering that he is a SEAL, and on Russian soil, the old workhorse of the German Bundeswehr is an odd choice considering its close affiliation with NATO. Even more odd to me was the fact that he was using the K model which is the largest version of the G36 for CQB purposes! Why he didn’t just use the G36C variant was confusing to me. At least his optic choices were suitable, although naturally Hollywood exaggerated the zoom of the ELCAN SpectreDR he had equipped on top of his G36K. It was even missing the red dot that is normally seen on that optic.
  5. I was equally perplexed by Greer’s choice of a Tavor TAR-21 which is almost exclusive to the IDF, another country not exactly known for its close ties to Russian forces. At least she chose a bullpup which was a lot more suitable for CQB situations than Kelly’s rifle. Also when her gun jammed, she should have checked before bursting into the room or have practiced her secondary transitions to the point where, the moment the weapon jammed, her pistol is up and cleared of its’ holster. She was tragically slow, very uncharacteristic for a SEAL.
  6. One final ballistic nitpick, from a gun-a-holic like myself is Kelly’s choice of a pistol for the house invasion sequence. The man bothered to buy a expensive Trijicon RMR for his pistol, but neglected to get himself a pistol light attachment for his home-defence gun? Any shooter, even civilians, are aware that you can’t shoot what you can’t see. The fact that he had to pick up a torch, and compromise his stance with the Weaver grip is … just bizarre, when you can literally actuate a Surefire X300U with your trigger finger and maintain a perfect thumbs forward grip. I was so baffled when I saw him pick up the torch separate and yet still have a RMR on his pistol. He should have known to buy a pistol light before a useless RMR that glows too bright in the dark. It wasn’t even a cheap Glock he used either! It was an Salient Arms model … he definitely had the money to buy a damn Surefire for that gun.
  7. The overall movie was suffering from inconsistent ballistic impacts. I mean, there was a scene where a Russian sniper had them pinned down with a goddamn Barrett M95 and the huge .50cal rounds didn’t even punch right through the wall. A round that large, and intimidating would have blown a hole through anything, regardless of plot armour. Then there was the cover that would protect Kelly, then wouldn’t … sometimes rounds would ping off the wall Kelly was hiding behind and other times … they would go right through and wound his shoulder. It was maddening. Not to mention the RPG sequence at the very start …. at such a short range, the RPG would never be able to arm itself and explode like it did in the film.
  8. Of equal confusion was the fact that the U.S. Military would exfiltrate a multi-million dollar investment known as a U.S. Navy SEAL team with a Cold War relic like the UH-1 Huey out of a known warzone called Aleppo, Syria. At minimum that bird would be flanked by AH-1 Cobras or AH-64 Apaches as escorts, ready to take out any insurgents with an RPG on their shoulders. For the SEALs, at the minimum you would expect a BlackHawk or a Little Bird for their extraction. Not a Vietnam-era workhorse.
  9. The NODs tubes that they used at the beginning of the film, looked a little old for a team that is supposed to be America’s tip of the spear. Of particular disappointment, is that they didn’t even use the damn things, nor actuate their weapon lights or AN/PEQ-15s …. none of them were hooked up on a pressure button either … so they are just for show.
  10. The HK-416 that Kelly uses at the beginning of the film had a very strange set-up. Normally SEALs use tried and true brands such as Aimpoint or EOTech for their optics. Kelly was running a Leupold Carbine Optic which is a very peculiar choice. There were also no visible weapon lights. Again … lights are always useful regardless of what gun you own or what training you have.
  11. The torch in his house after he got shot … why the hell did it spin so much for dramatic effect?
  12. You don’t talk about the mission until the debrief back at base. The fact that Kelly’s character kept pausing and discussing important plot points in the middle of a potential hot area annoyed me greatly.
  13. I disliked how the CIA agent at the beginning of the raid was not wearing BDUs …. like the rest of the team, just bedecked in flannel. That is not how spooks operate in the field. He might as well have been yelling to everyone he was CIA.
  14. How did Kelly get to a hospital after being shot 2-4 times? No one else knew he was being attacked … so who called the cops? Last I checked too, the house he was living in didn’t seem to have any neighbours so … how was he rescued?
  15. Greer should have been arrested for leaking state secrets. No one else would have sanctioned her actions.
  16. Shooting someone in the chest to puncture their lung … is not how bullets work. At least the fire stunt looked cool though.
  17. Police response time is not usually that quick, nor would the VIP leave without his bodyguards. He probably would have guessed what was going down and told his driver either to floor it or wait for his security team to catch up.
  18. Any sane military person would have just jumped out of a doomed 747 about to be shot down by a Russian fighter jet. To see them …. REMOVE their chute from their shoulders, especially at a height ready for a HALO jump made absolutely no sense. In addition, the fact that the plane crashed so soon after, also doesn’t translate well because HALO stands for High Altitude, Low Opening which meant that the plane should have been incredibly high up in the air. Additionally, 747 are also renowned for their toughness and durability, with several real recorded instances of successful landing after all 4 engines were shut down. In the film, only one was taken out by a missile, and if it was a true AA missile, the shrapnel form the missile would have destroyed everything inside a thin passenger airliner.
  19. Why was their gear strapped to the wall of the plane if they were just about to do a HALO jump? If anything, your equipment is the first thing to out the damn door and you always have your gun on you, strapped to your leg. If it was always meant to be a water landing, these SEALs would not be in civilian clothes either, but in proper SCUBA gear and ready to swim and then change into normal clothes once in-country, or at the very least be already sucking on oxygen, due to the extremely high altitude that they are flying at. Yet these guys were already having their 747 opened to the wind without any need to do any pre-breathing to void the nitrogen from their bloodstream.
  20. WHY fly a 747!?!? Most military infiltration techniques literally just disguise a C-130 Hercules or C-5 Galaxy as a commercial flight via radar and electronic suites. They do not actually need to fly a 747 to insert into a country. If anything the Russian pilot would be even more convinced that this was an ordinary plane if he did see a 747. I understand though that this was for budgetary reasons for the water stunt but from a military perspective, very odd choice.
  21. That much amount of C4 strapped to Rykov’s chest would have blown apart the entire 3 floors and killed Kelly with it.
  22. The entire sniper sequence would have resulted in the entire team dying. There is no way a sniper armed with those weapons and owning the superior angles would miss at such close range.
  23. There were also not enough rounds being fired to cover the team. In such a situation they would be unable to hear each other, due to the sheer amount of rounds being fired to cover the team. One of the first rules when engaged in a firefight is to gain fire superiority when ambushed or setting the ambush. Their weapons, with their higher capacity and at such close range should have dominated the snipers. They would also have provided first aid IMMEDIATELY after a team member got shot in the stomach instead of just waiting around for him to bleed out.
  24. The entire movie in fact lacked any proper battlefield medical applications in situations and preferred to cut around them, to move things along, something that bothered me greatly. One of the things that make military films so great is seeing how battle damage can be taken, healed and recuperated in the middle of a firefight.
  25. Blind firing is generally discouraged.
  26. The Russians soldiers would have easily dominated Kelly’s position atop the rooftop. But for some bizarre reason they didn’t crush him under huge amounts of suppressive fire or grenades. Oh wait, I forgot he has plot armour.
  27. Kelly also stayed up on the roof for far too long. A man of his training would have lobbed two grenades and then moved to another roof top immediately.
  28. Why the HELL did the team just drive right through the massive firefight between Kelly and the Russian troops!?!
  29. His uniform switch at the end was completely bullshit and he should have been coughing obnoxiously with the amount of smoke filling that staircase.
  30. Again … C4 does not work that way. Everything should have been emptied in that lobby when he threw it, even Kelly himself. Also, what an incredibly underwhelming explosion.
  31. The Rainbow nod at the end, has got me on complete edge. I do not want any of it. Please leave my beloved tactical shooter franchise alone.

That concludes my ridiculously nerdy rant about all the things wrong, form a military perspective in this film. Thanks for stopping by and indulging in my anger over this terribleness.

~ Damocles

The Mask of Zorro (IMPACT Series)

The Mask of Zorro (1998)

Welcome to the IMPACT series where I dissect notable and iconic sequences from games and movies, and how they broadened my mind and left a lasting impression on me, years to come. 

Do you know how to use that thing?

Yes! The pointy end goes into the other man ….

The Backdrop.

As a younger man, I was fortunate enough to be blessed with parents that had good taste in cinema. From my introduction to Star Wars by my mother no less, to the Life of Brian by my English comedy fanatic father, I think my love for film only grew more and more as I got older, until I finally became a full blown pretentious film critic upon viewing my first French drama called Three Worlds at the Melbourne French Film Festival.

The Mask of Zorro is one of my all-time favourite films, introduced to me by my mother, who seemed to switch interest in leading men, depending on what she heard from her artistic sisters. One day it might be an interest in Antonio Banderas, the other week there was an unrequited love for George Clooney in Ocean’s Eleven.

Regardless, The Mask of Zorro hit me at roughly the same age as the Alejandro Murietta, the titular lead of the film, when he saved Zorro’s life in the introductory scene. I felt the same amount of excitement and wonder and romance as Alejandro did, when watching Zorro fight off “hundreds” of Don Diego de la Vega’s soldiers.

Fast forward a few years and dramatic events later, the older Alejandro, portrayed by an incredibly charismatic and rougish Antonio Banderas, whose mannerisms I immediately began to mimic, then runs into the retired and original Zorro, played by the ever excellent Anthony Hopkins.

Thus the shenanigans begins …

Arguably still my favourite scene in cinematic history, showcasing the two leads’ flirtation with each other on screen.

The Impact.

First, I would like to address the type of film this is.

This is an old-school blockbuster film. In much of the same vein as The Mummy (1999) which actually came out a year later than Zorro, this is an adventure movie, with romance, revenge and realised characters. This is a film that almost solely gets by, on the chemistry of the leads and the strength of the story between the characters. The plot is fun, dramatic and really in service to allow how each character plays against one another.

It is a delicate balancing act, but Martin Campbell deftly weaves a lovely narrative and interplay between the antagonists and the protagonists. You see how both generations affect each other, the young dealing with the sins of the old, and how new life can be found amongst one another.

This old-school film is exactly what I adore, as a child and as an adult. It is everything I ask for in a film, with moments of incredible darkness (the scene between Captain Love and Alejandro was one of the most tense moments I’ve ever felt as a child, and ending the scene with that sip from the jar horrified me), the incredible romantic chemistry between Catherine Zeta-Jones and Antonio Banderas and the elder wisdom from Hopkins … there is everything to enjoy in this film and just have a fun ride.

The second impact that this film placed on me, was the romance. As a rather devoted heterosexual and admirer of women, I do understand that getting a Welsh actress to portray someone of Latin origin is problematic, but as a young man, I didn’t care and will freely admit that the character of Elena got me intrigued in Latina women (Yes, I am also aware of Hopkins casting as well). But it was the famous tango scene between the two of them that made me desire to have a dancing partner.

I think I’ve lost count the amount of times, I pretended to waltz, step and tango across the room with an invisible woman to the music of Spanish Tango by James Horner, but it has stuck with me very much in the same way Pulp Fiction’s Twist Contest dance did. However with all that extra energy, vigour and insane sensuality that Latin America is known for.

Need I mention the second dance that the two characters do with swords later? I think that scene speaks for itself and I will freely admit that in my university fencing days, I longed to disrobe a woman with the same precise swordplay Zorro performed.

The third impact was the music by the late James Horner. Whilst most audiences first experience with Horner’s musical mastery was the amazing Titanic, my first ever was Zorro and let me tell you, that alongside Jerry Goldsmith’s work in The Mummy, these were scores that were etched forever in my mind.

Nothing quite captures the spirit of adventure, romance, fun and derring-do like the drums, guitars and horns of Zorro’s score. Just go ahead and listen to The Plaza of Execution and tell me, you can’t imagine Zorro fighting a hundred men in his cape, mask and hat, alongside his trusty steed Tornado.

And that is just the first song … my all time favourite and one that I used to fence to, was Stealing the Map. It perfectly armed me mentally for my fencing bouts and I felt invincible when flailing my foil around.

I miss Horner’s work immensely. He just had that uncanny ability to mix adventure and romance in his melodies and I am forever grateful for his work, especially in The Rocketeer (1991).

The final element that influenced me greatly, alongside Pirates of the Caribbean: Curse of the Black Pearl is something I’ve already hinted at … fencing.

Having done 3 years of Olympic style fencing, I can rightfully say that swordsmanship has changed much over the years since Zorro was on-screen, but the spirit of having fun while wielding deadly sharp blades remain true to this day. Swords, unlike guns, have a fascinating elegance and beauty to them. They are an extension of you and serve as a strange way of communicating with your opponent. The way how blades clash and dance around you, is a wholly unique experience and I am forever grateful that I grew up watching films with amazing sword choreography.

But it was this film that really showed me how swords were supposed to be wielded. You don’t swing wildly and yel intimidatingly. Instead you lower yourself into an en garde position, and with minimalist movements defend yourself and wound your opponent.

As a child, I loved the training montage, but as an adult fencer, I appreciate it ever more now, for its flashy but functional depiction in how swordsmanship is actually meant to be. The swordplay in this film, compared to others, really showcase how fencing is all about expression as it is an incredibly elegant way to kill.

As a young man … this scene is what got me into dancing.

The Enrichment.

Beyond developing my obsession with fencing, The Mask of Zorro opened my interests to American history, both North and South. Previously only interested in Egyptian, I had my eyes opened to other types of pyramids other than Giza. I grew fascinated with Incan, Mayan and Aztecs and their bloody rituals and am still horrified by the Spanish treatment of these civilisations.

Zorro also taught me the value of folklore and how this type of hero was common across the world, but especially in areas that were often downtrodden and destitute. After all, it was these type of heroes that gave people hope and a voice, a champion that fought for them and represented a dream that they could be greater. I idolised Zorro as much as the people of California did in the film. Symbology … a powerful force to be reckoned with; I still see the Z as Zorro’s icon.

My taste in music also expanded dramatically, with a keen interest in Latin American music. From tango music, to enjoying the guitar work of Rodrigo Y Gabriela, there isn’t much I don’t enjoy musically from South America. Their infectious rhythms, beat and ability to tap into the subconscious desire to let loose, is always a delight to indulge in. There is such a strong passion and zeal for life in their music, and I think it’s impossible to deny their impact on my own life, in getting up and moving around. Every time I play a song from Latin America with furious guitar work, my feet move of their own accord.

My desire to dance only increased tenfold after watching the film, and I wanted to be as light on my feet as possible. Beyond my lascivious desire to dance with beautiful women, which has not abated since my teenager years, I have actually genuinely considered taking dancing classes and enjoy the act of dancing a lot.

Which to the amusement of my retail co-workers translate a lot into my movements at work, with my endless pirouettes around corners, backwards walking, and needless energetic movements.

But how else are you meant to move around tight spaces with fun and speed?

You hide it … with this. When is Anthony Hopkins never not wise? Congratulations to his Oscar win recently!

The Culmination.

The Mask of Zorro can be attributed to a whole lot of things. As a film, I love the adventure, the romance and the score immensely. It is the type of film that can be rewatched as a whole, not certain scenes because of the strength of the package being presented. There is not a dull moment in the film and I often find myself rewatching it as least once a year.

The film taught me a great deal, and instilled in me a passion for dancing, swordsmanship and Latina music. I often wondered where I would be without these films to generate such strong interests, but I am grateful they helped shaped me into the man I am today.

I’ve yet to book dancing classes though.

That is still on my to-do list, to master at least a dance. Preferably tango.

IMPACT

~ Damocles

I miss these swashbuckling, romantic films. If only we could bring them back.

Reflections on a Quarter of 2021.

My dream retreat … a place lonely and quiet enough to hear my own thoughts.

I used to greet my reflection like it was a stranger.

I didn’t recognise the face that stared back at me as my own.

However, ever since I started the Before 30 (B30) Challenge, I’ve slowly become accustomed to my own visage. As strange as this sounds, but before I started the B30, I never liked looking at my own reflection.

I couldn’t come to grips with the idea, that, that was who I looked like. In my mind, I didn’t really have a strong idea of what I looked like, and that somehow the mirror was showing me a mirage. I could hear my own words, feel my own feelings … but you can’t see your own face unless it is reflected.

To verge on the philosophical … I didn’t trust the mirrors, the image I saw of myself. They were reflections, not true visualisation of who I am. A very strange insecurity to have.

I am a very … accommodating person when it comes to beauty. If I hang around you long enough, there is a chance I will eventually come to the breakthrough that there is something inherently attractive about you. It’s not difficult for me to identify why they could end up with a partner. Yet for all my generosity, I could never truly pinpoint what made me attractive.

Even when I struggled to find an answer, I kept reverting back to my force of personality. I assumed most of my charm laid in my sense of humour, my confidence and my inherent charisma. I never once considered that my facial features was capable of attracting anyone.

I’ll be honest … deep down, a part of me, despite getting more and more comfortable with my facial features, still think I blend in as a very average looking Asian male.

This is a reflection about change though. Much has changed since the lockdown ended in my beautiful hometown of Melbourne. I’ve become obsessed with tennis, a full time manager of a retail store, am currently undertaking a part-time course in event management to up-skill my considerable experience and am engaging in weekly badminton sessions with my friends.

Throw in a strange desire to be more extroverted than ever before, and I wonder what happened to the Damocles of 2 years prior, the man who would be too tired to go to anything after a casual, dull 5 hours of work and preferred to spend his time in a digital city known as Los Santos.

That Damocles before COVID-19 is now long gone. The hermit has finally shed his shell and is now more eager than ever to embrace life after having an entire year stolen from him, without his permission.

In a lot of ways, I hit the ground running the moment COVID-19 lockdowns were over. I was actually furious. An entire year stolen away from me, an imposition of further retail work, when 2020 was meant to be the year I quit the damn company and be my own boss.

I think a lot of the changes that have occurred, from my rather drastic weight loss, to my inherently poor decision to adopt one of the most frustrating sports in the world (tennis) … have all stemmed from a critically furious part of me inside, that is resentful, bitter and arrogantly spiteful that the world has somehow dared to interfere with my life plans.

So, in reality, this is me accelerating everything I have ever wanted to improve upon. I rarely feel tired nowadays, so invigorated by this angry side of me, that I am pushing myself for rapid growth.

I am greedy for life.

I want to lose more weight and achieve some type of peak fitness that enables me to chase down cars travelling at 40km/h or lift a girl up easily over my shoulders.

I want to play tennis competitively and win some type of trophy.

I want to resurrect my business, Tofu Events and become my own employer and man, responsible for my own livelihood.

I want my own apartment and so have been psychologically been planning out my days, so that I can realise what it is like to live on your own.

I want to attend more events and spend less time at home.

I want to be a better conversationalist.

I want to do a side flip, a front flip and eventually a parkour Kong Vault.

I even want to get better at singing and dancing.

The kicker is … I want ALL of these things to happen before I am 30.

That gives me 2 years to achieve everything.

Not impossible. Especially if I keep on working hard and making sure I am kept as busy as possible.

I realise now that the reason why I was more introverted, was because I wasn’t really taking control of my life. I treated friends sparsely, when really, to celebrate their company, I should be spending more time with them, making them laugh, think, and smile.

I’ve also realised just how much confidence I’ve gathered by being more fit. Perhaps too much, because I need to be careful that I don’t become some narcissistic asshole, which is all too easy for someone as arrogant and asshole-y like me.

I keep catching myself looking in the mirror more, when I really should stop. The obsession with looking good is such good bait. It keeps you going, pushing harder in your exercises, but I’ll also freely admit, that I need to be aware of how dangerous that is, especially if I keep going to the point of injury.

There is no point in injuring yourself, because you’ve just denied yourself another rep.

It is an incredibly weird sensation though … to look at yourself in the mirror and go … “Hey, that’s not bad.” As a guy who has never step foot in a gym before nor lifted a single weight, I was always averse to gym culture.

But I think I have a good understanding now and why it is addicting. It is visible improvement you can see, and something like that is its’ own motivation.

That being said though, I’m still not going to step foot in a gym. I prefer to run outside and get engaged in more sports. I will also admit, that I have an obssession with speed and have been really trying to improve how fast I can accelerate, thus my use of a plate carrier to load up more weight, thus when I take it off … I should really be flying.

Which has definitely been proven correct, because I think I am now faster than ever before. The world seems to stand still when I accelerate to my top speed.

Throughout my journey so far, I must be thankful to 2 fictional characters: Rocky Balboa and Steve Rogers. They are the two men that have steered and pushed me to even further efforts while retaining my own identity and forging my own path, regardless of the obstacles in the way.

Through Rocky, I learned to never give up and acknowledge that the grind is always worth something.

Through Steve, I learned to push my limits even further than I thought was possible, to try and get some kind of feeling in being superhuman.

I’m always reminded though, of how much of a good person I should be, whenever I channel Steve Rogers. I’m still shaking my head at the moral compass, the character of Captain America always seems to instill in me at random times.

Such as when I was running, completely out of breath, struggling to breathe under the weight of the plate carrier after a 200 metre sprint, and yet I still had to stoop down to pick up rubbish. It was just a random thing I felt like I had to do. I will also admit to being a bit protective of the gardens that I do laps around now, because it is such a lovely park, to see it polluted just seem wrong, especially when there are ample bins everywhere.

The power of superheroes … making you conscientious even when you shouldn’t be.

But it was Rocky that really began the journey to losing weight and getting fit. His music and story never fails to get me amped and I can directly correlate my ability to push harder to his character. I never thought I would relate to a guy like Rocky, but his story is universal.

I even attribute my dieting to him as well. I knew from the get-go, that losing weight wasn’t about working or running hard. It was about learning to control my eating habits that had balloon up at crazy times.

So …. that means no eating until 2pm every day, and making sure it is light, so that my body can learn to convert that into energy, instead of storing somewhere. The same goes for dinner at a relatively late time at 7.30pm.

2 meals a day, plenty of water and exercise. This is the way forward for me and … it’s not that easy, when I know there is so much good food out there. Culling my snacking was the worst transition.

Staying lean and mean ….

What has been the best thing about this whole journey so far, is that I can tell that I am making improvement in my own life. I can actually see changes happening and that if I keep working this hard, something will swing my way soon.

I’m going to sound cliched, but at the moment … life is looking good. But that doesn’t mean I can get complacent. After all, moods can swing rapidly and one lousy day can set back months of progress.

Life isn’t easy with discipline but it is a lot more rewarding.

With winter now encroaching upon Melbourne, I am definitely feeling the chills. But if Rocky can do it, that means I got no excuse to slack off, thanks to a little cold.

P.S. A small insight into this reflection piece … if the image above of the house by the lake sticks with you, then you are looking in my mind palace. This is what I always project when writing these pieces.

Imagine a guy in a totally dark room, with only the moon reflecting off the lake for light, and he is writing slowly but surely in a book. He is dressed casually, but with a white-grey wolf fur kaross adorned across his shoulders for warmth. Soft jazz is scratchily played from a record player and the sound of water lapping the ground underneath the veranda adds another melodic atmosphere to the room.

As dramatic as this is, that is what makes me write so well in any circumstances, imagining myself all alone in a glass house, focusing only on the scratching of my pen on paper.

~Damocles

Mortal Kombat (2021) – Cinema Review

Y/N? Yes.

Director: Simon McQuoid

Stars: Lewis Tan, Jessica McNamee, Josh Lawson, Joe Taslim, Chin Han, Tadanobu Asano & Hiroyuki Sanada.

Review by Damocles

As a fan of the game … it’s OK. As a fan of film … it’s mediocre.

Video games movies ….

Three words that will strike fear into any self-respecting film critic, because you know that the bar is so low, it might as well be uttered next to the words: Breen, Wiseau or Cage.

However, Mortal Kombat (2021) does surpass the low bar that was set in the previous 2 installments of this … franchise?

First, a bit of disclosure … this review is likely to be more skewed that usual, due to the fact that I am actually a rather substantial fan of the Mortal Kombat game, having followed the franchise since its reboot in Mortal Kombat X.

So as a fan, this film did scratch, a little bit of the fanboy that resided in me. I particularly appreciated the depiction of Scorpion, Sub-Zero, Kano and Sonya Blade. But with so many characters needing and fighting for screen-time, it is difficult to characterise all the unique heroes and villains that reside in the Mortal Kombat universe.

Thus for much of the film, many of the characters had the slimmest sketches of characters imaginable, making a lot of the characters seem very bland and uninteresting. I also found the protagonist, a character, not featured in the game, Cole Young, to be a very uninspired lead, his motivation for fighting in Mortal Kombat tournament, very bland and generic. In particular, I was disappointed they did not go another route with his character, in just having the ability to summon his ancestor’s abilities and powers at a whim.

Perhaps a strong reason why I was disappointed in the lead so much, is because he was meant to represent the audience’s eyes into the world. But there was such a lack of wonderment or fear in his reactions to seeing superhuman abilities or the world itself that as an audience member, I felt a similar lack of detachment.

Arguably, I felt that the film overall was underwhelming, due to the pacing issues and the lack of depth that was provided to all the characters. I wished there was more to the film, as I felt they really rushed the climax, speeding through fights in a way that did not lead to a very satisfying conclusion to the overall story.

At a 110 minutes, the film is over soon, perhaps a bit too soon, as it drags near the middle with extremely heavy exposition story telling, trying to build the world up. Thus when the conclusion begins, everything feels very rushed and over too quickly, thus leaving you with a sense of dissatisfaction in how they handle the fight sequences.

A bit more time was needed to expand the fight sequences between characters and also establish some much needed backstory for a lot of the villains. Perhaps, this is a hold-over from the Synder’s Cut of Justice League but also a strange step into how film is being watched nowadays, with the line between TV and film being blurred so much, but I think Mortal Kombat would have fared better was a TV series. The budget and look of the film would be perfectly serviceable for a TV series, and thus allow all the characters much more room to be more realised and fleshed out, in addition to being able to really showcase their fights.

The Synder’s Cut proved to me that films can be stretched a bit longer into an almost TV format, much like something such as The Falcon and the Winter Soldier should be seen as a extremely long movie, not a episodic series. I would have liked to seen Mortal Kombat pitched as a TV series, with each episode really fleshing out 2 characters, a hero and villain, and featuring their showdown for the climactic battle.

From a technical standpoint, given the budget and the fact that the director is a first timer, the movie looks surprisingly OK, with relatively well placed shots and CGI that doesn’t really offend the eyes. The fight choreography and sequences however lack panache and I think need a bit more time for the eyes to soak in what is happening. The editing was not obnoxious however there were a lot of subtle moments that were missed due to the angle of the camera or the pace of the editing.

What was fun however, were the ways how they included iconic moves and fatalities, as well as some cheesy lines that were often uttered in the games. I appreciated these fan-service moments and found that they didn’t detract from the film, but rather made me enjoy it a bit more than I suspected I would have, if it didn’t have these moments.

From a musical perspective, Mortal Kombat’s score is serviceable, with nothing really to write home about. It emphasizes the right moments enough but is more or less something relegated to the background. This is a bit of a pity, as I was excited to see what Benjamin Wallfisch would do, considering his amazing collaboration with Hans Zimmer on Blade Runner 2049.

His remix of Techno Syndrome is …. much like the film. It’s OK, but lacks the fun over the top nature of the original by The Immortals. With its more reliance on dubstep and electronic synth, the new remix grew on me over time, but nothing quite gets you hyped as the original.

Overall, Mortal Kombat (2021) is on the more positive side of video game adaptations. It isn’t long enough to offend you, but at least there are promising elements there, enough to warrant a drastic improvement if a sequel ever occurs. I smiled a lot at some of the lines, and iconic fight moves and felt that the casting was overall on point.

It isn’t a terrible film, but mediocre overall. I will say though, the climatic battle did at least, leave me with a satisfying feeling, something that can’t be said for a lot of third act battles.

To justify the “Yes” rating … I will say, it’s not a terrible way to spend time in the cinema, but I would recommend avoiding paying the full cinema-going experience for it. It’s a fine film overall. But the emphasis is on the word “fine.”

A scene to recall: The moment when Scorpion appears and the remix of Techno Syndrome kicked in. As a fan of the game, this entire fight got me hyped.