Five Torches (Out of Five)

This article was originally published in April 2009.

Xena: Warrior Princess is probably television’s best fantasy show ever. Its six year-run was a veritable creative explosion as the show veered boldly between genres, tackled complicated themes, and created an intense action pace that had never before been seen on the small screen.

Not to mention the fact that the show completely redefined the notion of the female action hero.

But by the show’s sixth and final season, most agree it had gotten a little tired. The brilliant heights of the gloriously operatic third and fourth seasons were behind them, and a notoriously spotty fifth season had left fans restless. The ill-conceived “Eve” storyline was sputtering to ignoble end.

In the DVD extras for the sixth season, one of the producers describes the last season as “tying up loose ends” — which sounds like it could be interesting in theory, but which is, of course, a radical departure from the bold, over-arching storylines of each previous season. In retrospect, “tying up loose ends” seemed to mean “spinning our wheels until we wrapped the show up.”

Then came the “Norse” trilogy.

This series of three episodes — “The Reingold,” “The Ring,” and “Return of the Valkyrie” — came smack in the middle of the sixth season, first airing in November of 2000.

And if fans had any concerns that the show’s fire might have gone out, they were immediately put to rest.

The episodes tell a single story: that of Xena’s return to the northern lands of the Norse gods, where 35 years ago (10 years ago, plus the 25 she was frozen in ice by Ares) she was a Valkyrie in the service of the god Odin. But this being the Xena of her own dark past, she didn’t stay in Odin’s service for long. She plotted to steal the precious “rheingold,” which, when shaped into a ring, grants the wearer great power. But that power comes at a cost: by exercising the power of the ring, the bearer loses that which they most value.

Unless, of course, the bearer of the rheingold has forsaken love. Then the power of the ring can seemingly be used without consequence.

If anybody had ever forsaken love, it was the Xena of 35 years previous: first, she’d been double-crossed by Caesar, then she’d traveled to the Chin Empire, where her trusted mentor and lover Lao Ma had been executed.

The Norse trilogy is Xena’s usual audacious blend of legend and history, in this case loosely mixing Norse mythology with the stories of Beowulf and the Das Rheingold opera. But of course, the legends of history left out the central role Xena played in all these stories. Beowulf shows up, sure, but he’s merely a supporting player in his own legend.

The theme of the episodes — written by R.J. Stewart, Joel Metzger, and Emily Skovop and directed by John Fawcett and Rick Jacobson — is a return to the classic theme that made Xena, both the show and the character, so interesting to begin with: her having to make amends for the sins of her own dark past.

Years ago, the beautiful and noble Valkyrie Grinhilda chose to try to defeat Dark Xena by putting on the ring of the rheingold. Not only didn’t she not succeed, because she had not forsaken love, she was transformed into a hideous monster, losing the things she most valued: her beauty and her nobility.

So, as with her arch-nemesis Calysto, Xena must do battle with a monster that she herself literally created all those years ago. But it’s always easier to open the box of monsters than it is to get those monsters back inside. Before the episodes are over, Xena is forced to don the ring once again — but this time, it comes at an extremely high cost: she loses her memories of being a warrior, and — more importantly — her love for Gabrielle.

In other words, forsaking love all those years ago hadn’t saved Xena from the consequences of the ring; it had merely postponed them. Such is the wonderful irony so often seen in well-told fantasy.

There are debts that must be paid in life, Xena tells us again and again, things that must be put right. And unless and until we do make things right, we will be unable able to move forward in life, suffering again and again at the hands of the monsters we created.

It’s a theme that is both classic in its idea of self-sacrifice and modern in its notion of choice and individuality.

Six Feet Under and Damages are both great shows, but I’m not sure I recall them ever tackling anything quite this profound.

The episode is terrifically acted (except for the actor who plays Beowulf, who is a little wooden), especially Brittney Powell, who plays Brunnhilda. The special effects, especially the monsters, are as good as any Xena episode ever — on par with the fifth season’s Fallen Angel, which includes some of the series’ best effects ever.

Another notable element in the Norse trilogy: it’s definitely the most overtly “lesbian” of all Xena episodes, even the finale, when the true nature of Xena and Gabrielle’s love is revealed.

There’s none of the show’s vaunted “lesbian subtext” here. The Valkyrie Brunnhilda falls openly in love with Gabrielle, and everyone talks openly about Xena’s “love” for Gabrielle. And in the opening teaser, check out how Xena signs her farewell note to Gabrielle: with a big, lipstick kiss.

Meanwhile, the Rhinemaiden’s also fall “in love” with Xena. And when Xena wakes Gabrielle up from her year-long sleep, she does it with — what else? A kiss.

Okay, so the Norse Trilogy may not be the best fantasy even seen on television — that honor might go to Xena episodes such as “The Debt” or “The Ides of March,” or maybe even an episode or two of Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

But still: these episodes gotta be right near the top.

Interesting in purchase the sixth season of Xena (or any other media)? Support TheTorchOnline.com by purchasing it through this link.

A fan-created trailer for Xena’s Norse Trilogy

Five Torches (Out of Five)

Well, I’ll be damned: Pixar did it again!

Some eleven years after the release of Toy Story 2 –  a delay that came about due to a conflict between Disney and Pixar that was resolved when Disney bought the animation company outright in 2006 — we finally get the sequel.

Boy, was it worth the wait.

I’ll say it outright: I wasn’t looking forward to this movie. I am sort of anti-sequel in general, and with the first two Toy Story movies becoming classics of sorts, I just didn’t see the point of the third. I hate Hollywood’s attitude that you have to keep doing something over and over again until you completely ruin it.

But Toy Story 3 keeps the cleverness and heart of the first two movies while adding a richness and sophistication that makes the movie seem surprisingly fresh, even if the movie itself is also shockingly dark.

Andy, the boy who owned the collection of misfit toys from the first two movies, is grown up now and moving to college. Despite the toys’ best efforts, he’s no longer interested in playing with the playthings of his past. When they overhear him call them a bunch of junk and mistakenly think that he wants to throw them all away, the toys rebel, heading off to a nearby daycare center where they’re told they’ll be played with by kids all day long.

All except for Woody, of course, who remains ever-loyal to Andy.

But the daycare center is definitely not what it appears to be (to say more would be to spoil some satisfying plot-twists!). At this point, the movie becomes an outright satire of previous movies and cultural cliches, and the result — because these cliches are enacted by toys — is downright hilarious.

But it’d be a big mistake to call this movie a comedy. Toy Story 3 is about growing up, about the inevitability of change — and about how that change is simply a fact of life, neither good nor bad. Incredibly, in a scene that is as chilling as anything in Shindler’s List, the movie even touches upon the acceptance of death — and how it’s made better, maybe even bearable, by the company of loved ones.

Some will say that this movie and its themes are too dark and disturbing for kids — but I say that these people are idiots. Long before Disney started sanitizing everything for our kids’ protection, children’s literature, from Mother Goose to the Brothers Grimm, had long tradition of being a way for adults to communicate to children the uncomfortable truths about life.

There is absolutely nothing exploitative here, nothing put here to deliberately shock or offend or draw attention to itself. On the contrary, this is thoughtful, loving, and very enjoyable meditation on exactly what it means to be human — even if, in this case, the “humans” are all plastic toys.

Writing movie and TV reviews for a living, I sometimes get discouraged: why is there so much crap in the world of entertainment? Why do filmmakers even bother making pointless crap like Clash of the Titans or G-Force — and why do audiences even bother to go? Is there any inspiration at all other than money?

Then I see a movie like Toy Story 3, and I’m reminded of what it feels like when a movie makes me laugh and cry and think deeply about things — that contemporary entertainment doesn’t have to be all crap.

Is this too heavy a burden to place on a mere movie, to say that it’s restored my faith in humanity a little? Maybe so, but who cares? Just like a plastic toy, a movie is meaningful exactly to the extent that a person feels that it is.

Four Torches (Out of Five)

It’s admittedly a pretty gimmicky idea: a family seeking a fresh start moves into a seemingly “perfect” community — but things are far from what they appear to be.

In the case of the new ABC series The Gates, premiering this Sunday, it’s the family of a blue-collar cop with a “trigger-happy” scandal in his past, hired as the new police chief by an expensive gated “town” with its own shops and even its own school. But it turns out he’s been hired precisely because of the scandal in his past, in hopes that he won’t repeat his old mistakes by asking too many questions about the strange goings-on in town.

And to be clear: there are strange goings-on.

I called this a “gimmick,” but maybe a better expression for it is “classic set-up.” Because for all the many times this kind of story has been told before, the fact is, the premiere episode of The Gates (made available for preview by the network) is actually a pretty large amount of fun.

And let’s face it: in this era of modern-day robber-barons, when corporations and their rich CEOs are screwing both the economy and the environment, the timing couldn’t be better. By now we all know that the rich and pampered can be pretty evil — and that what they say is their agenda isn’t necessarily their true agenda at all.

So what is the evil that lurks behind “the gates”? Disappointingly, it seems to involve some vampires, and also some teenage werewolves on the football team.

But, bless the heavens, the series hints at more than just these oh-so-overdone supernatural creatures — and at a central, unexplained mystery involving the whole community that explains why and how these monsters have all gathered here, and why they’re trying so hard to reign in their monstrous instincts.

In short, this ain’t Desperate Housewives — not unless Bree grew fangs and Andrew got bitten by a werewolf (a distinct possibility given the direction of that show lately).

What makes The Gates more interesting than the recent disaster that was Happy Town — another ABC show with a surprisingly similar premise? For one thing, not everything here is a damn cliche, as it was in that other show.

The Gates is much more artfully done — more knowing of its genre and more sure-footed in its storytelling. There are deft switches in tone and charming touches here and there, like when the teenage son talks to the girl he likes while hooked up to a lie detector (don’t ask!).

True, the family seems a little generic, but I suspect there are mysteries there too still to be explored.

And for what it’s worth, the premiere episode ends with a great twist that I genuinely didn’t see coming.

You don’t need to tell me: I’m fully aware that this show could quickly and very easily descend into something really stupid. If so, I’ll be the first to stop watching.

But in the meantime, I’m intrigued.

The Gates premieres this Sunday, June 20th, at 10 PM on ABC.

Four Torches (Out of Five)

When I saw the first Iron Man, I didn’t have high expectations.

We had come off a string of bad Marvel movies, and pairing up a checkered-past celebrity with a second-tier character just didn’t seem like a genius move.

Let the record state that I never have a problem admitting when I’m wrong.

Yes, the effects were amazing. At this point, CGI technology is at a place that if effects look anything short of amazing, then the movie fails simply on that principle.

But what really made the … I’m trying to think of some metal pun … what really made the iron hot … nah. What really melted down the ores to a state where they can be made into alloys …

Okay, you know, what? I don’t know metal.

What really made the film exceptional was, as everyone now knows, Robert Downey, Jr’s portrayal of Tony Stark, that other superhero millionaire playboy (who’s a lot less grim and brooding than Bruce Wayne). RDJ has a way with snark, and he turned that into a comic masterpiece in this role while also packing on the action-hero gravitas.

Naturally, that means the bar is set high for Iron Man 2, and fortunately for the filmmakers as well as the fans, they deliver.

The CGI, once again, is spectacular, and the artists have clearly upped their game. Watching Iron man swoop through the air and backflip away from explosions will bring a smile to anyone’s face.

But it’s funny — one of the attributes of this cinematic Iron Man that strikes me as odd is just how nimble and agile he is in a suit that’s basically a human-shaped tank. I was a huge fan of the comics as a kid, and in my head, Iron Man always seemed, well, kind of clunky. Here he’s as spry as Catwoman on her best day.

Speaking of agile ladies, the movie also features Scarlett Johansson in the woefully minor role of Natalie Rushman, aka Natasha Romanoff, aka the Black Widow (although her superhero alias is never used in the film.) She doesn’t get a lot of screentime, but she does get one insanely awesome fight scene where she obliterates a roomful of guards. Wile I enjoyed the moment, I was also aware it was essentially just a teaser for the eventual Avengers movie.

Much of the film, in fact, is dedicated to placing it within the greater context of the Marvel cinematic universe, as opposed to the previous film, which focused mainly on Iron Man as his own entity. For those of you who go nuts for this kind of thing, definitely stay past the credits.

Don Cheadle particularly shines in his role as James “Rhodie” Rhodes, taking over for Terrence Howard, who played the role in the first film. Cheadle is one of those actors who can do it all, and here he provides humor, charm, and quite a lot of bad-assery when he straps on the suit and becomes War Machine.

Final verdict: Definitely an awesome entry into Marvel’s movie family. Bring on Thor.

Two and a Half Torches (Out of Five)

After watching Percy Jackson and the Olympians: The Lightning Thief (a cumbersome title if ever there was one), I left the theater with this thought at the forefront of my mind: if you try too hard to be the next Harry Potter, you never will be.

Ponder this:

A young male hero, who learns of his magical identity which has been hidden from him all his life. Brought to a school where he and other children like him learn to use their powers. A wise-cracking male friend to serve as the comic relief. A know-it-all female companion whose skills outshine the boys, but if only she were more likable …

Come on.

That having been said, the movie had its strengths. Thanks to cutting-edge CGI technology, we can now behold photo-realistic creatures that up until now had to exist solely in the minds of Greek myth geeks like myself. Uma Thurman as Medusa was particularly cool — I’ve never thought of Medusa as seductive, but after this it will be hard not to.

Pierce Brosnan, who I’ve never really had any strong feelings about in the past, was perfectly cast as Chiron, the wise centaur, and I’ll go on record saying the movie has hands-down the best centaur effect I’ve ever seen. (How’s that for an accolade?)

Many of the performances were strong. Kevin McKidd, so magnetic in HBO’s Rome, made for a sympathetic Poseidon, and Sean Bean’s Zeus was a younger, leaner version of the King of the Gods than the Zeuses we’ve seen in the past.

But for all the shine and polish of the adult actors and the digital effects, the story doesn’t hold up as interesting on its own, and the three young lead actors don’t hold a candle to those other three young lead actors. You know who I’m talking about.

What made the first Harry Potter film so effective on screen is that it captured — in full, child-like wonder — what it must feel like to be at Hogwarts, to suddenly learn you can use magic, to fly on a broomstick. It had the sense of awe and splendor one would imagine goes hand in hand with entering a brave new world.

Percy Jackson (Logan Lerman), on the other hand, adjusts to his new life awfully quickly and easily, and before long he is whisked away to Camp Half-Blood, a training facility for demigods. Rather than the fully realized world of Hogwarts, Camp Half-blood is filled with teenagers dressed in jeans and casual shirts, with Grecian leather armor over their regular clothes. The effect is not mystical and awe-inspiring, but instead looks like a crowd of adolescents engaged in a complex LARP game.

I always have high hopes for fantasy movies, and it warmed my heart to see the theater filled with children and young teens who had clearly read the book and were excited about seeing the movie. I’m sure they all care very passionately about the characters and the story.

If only they knew they were eating leftovers.

Three and a Half Torches (Out of Five)

Get this: according to the new movie The Wolfman, there’s a fine line between “human” and “animal.” There might even be something of a savage beast lurking under the surface of a person who looks very human on the outside!

You’ve never seen a movie or a TV show with that theme before, have you?

I shouldn’t mock. These are classic themes, right? Even if we’ve seen them all before (a lot), they’re worth hearing again. And The Wolfman, and werewolf stories in general, are certainly classic tales.

But I gotta say, after 800,000 variations on the werewolf story, it kinda woulda been nice if they’d had something new to say. Something about “alpha” males, perhaps?

In fairness, the movie is clearly making an attempt to go the “traditional” route, making something reminiscent of the original 1941 classic, The Wolf Man. It plays things far more seriously than Universal’s The Mummy remake.

And for the most part, the atmosphere works. Since the aforementioned thin-line-between-humans-and-animals theme is such a large part of the story, they do a great job of showing how, in 19th century England, human beings and animals exist side-by-side: there are dogs, horses, mounted animals on walls, hedges in the shapes of animals, the occasional gypsy bear, even lots of animal furs mixed in with the costumes.

This lurking “animal” presence, and lots of carriages rattling through the fog on moonlit moors, are part of what I pay for when I go to a movie called The Wolfman, and this one definitely delivers in that respect.

Everyone is all tortured and the look is very gothic, and let’s face it: there’s not nearly enough of that in movies today.

Likewise, the movie starts off telling basically the same story as the original, but then takes an interesting twist halfway through (playing on the expectations of those familiar with the first movie). It’s such an obvious twist that, in retrospect, you kind of wonder why they didn’t include it in the original. And the fact that it is so obvious, and yet still genuinely surprising, makes me think the movie got at least this right.

There’s also a great scene where, after the main character has been committed to an asylum “because he thinks he’s a werewolf,” a group of psychologists gather to watch him under a full moon. It’s all part of his treatment: when the moon comes out and he doesn’t transform, he’ll know it’s all in his mind.

Alas, it’s not all in his mind, but he’s soon to be in their minds — as in, ripping their heads open.

But it must be said: despite what you’d think, Benicio Del Toro makes a surprisingly wooden leading man. Co-stars Anthony Hopkins, Emily Blunt, and Hugo Weaving all fare much better, so you know it’s not just the writing. In fact, not since Keanu Reeves in Bram Stoker’s Dracula have I seen such a bad central performance in a monster movie.

The producers made the bold choice to use make-up and prosthetics rather than CGI effects on the wolfman (apart from the transformation). I applaud them for taking the risk, but it also must be said: in an era of omnipresent CGI, it looked like make-up.

Really, really good make-up, but make-up. The howl is oddly flat too.

Interestingly, the coolest effect in the whole movie probably was done with CGI: when the wolfman switches between a “human” run and a wolf-like gallop.

The Wolfman is not nearly the disaster that a lot of other critics seem to think it is. But in five years, no one will remember a single thing about it.

Two and a Half Torches (Out of Five)

I hate reviewing mediocre projects.

If something is great, I’m always eager to share the news of it with the world. If something is truly terrible, I admit I don’t mind directing a little vitriol at those involved.

But what do you with something like the new Fox show Past Life, which debuts on a special night this Tuesday (and then starts a regular run Thursday nights)? It’s not terrible, but there’s nothing particularly novel or memorable about it either.

Here’s the premise, loosely “inspired” by the novel The Reincarnationist by M. J. Rose: a skeptical by-the-books cop with dark secrets is assigned to a risk-taking, true-believing doctor who investigates past lives. Together they use past life regression to solve long-unsolved crimes.

Basically, it’s a paranormal Cold Case or Bones, although the leading characters don’t have the personality or the chemistry of the latter show, at least in the first two episodes made available for preview.

Past Life seems mostly plot-driven, like Cold Case or Law & Order, not as character-driven as Supernatural or The Vampire Diaries. Still, I found Kate, played by All My Children’s Kelli Giddish, to be more interesting than her partner, Price, played by Home & Away’s Nicholas Bishop.

The good news:  the episodes start quickly and dramatically, and there’s an interesting plot twist or two along the way — in the pilot episode (which is reportedly running on Thursday), I didn’t expect “Maria” to be who she turned out to be.

And there’s occasionally some nice humor. There’s a cute scene in the Tuesday episode when, after being stonewalled by the manager of a country club, Kate flirts with the teenage bus boy, who, of course, is willing to do whatever the attractive older woman wants.

The bad news is that so much of the show is so by-the-numbers, from the skeptic/true believer male-female partnership, to the assortment of oddball support staff.

My first complaint is that the show takes such a simple-minded approach to past lives. Basically, they’re real, and everyone who says they’ve had a peek at their past is right. I know it’s a TV show, but would it have killed them to add a little nuance?

My second complaint is more substantial: the writers use plot-cheats. Every new plot twist comes not from the main characters unraveling some clue cleverly set up earlier in the episode, but from the subject of each past life investigation suddenly “remembering” something essential about the mystery.

As a result, the main characters don’t really drive the stories, making it almost impossible for me to get very emotionally involved.

So what do I say about a show that’s so … mediocre?

I guess what I’ll say is this: if you’re interested in the genre or the premise, give it a shot. Otherwise, forget it.

Past Life debuts Tuesday at 9 PM on Fox. Another episode runs Thursday at 9 PM, and future episodes will also have that time-slot.

Four Torches (Out of Five)

In the latest issue of Buffy Season 8, it’s not enough for Buffy to have all the powers of Superman. She and Xander have to prove it … literally, as they go down the list and do tests, only to find out that yes, Buffy is faster than a speeding bullet, more powerful than a locomotive, well, you know the rest.

The banter between the two is charming, a fact that doesn’t go unnoticed by Dawn, who is now (man, this feels weird to say) Xander’s girlfriend. Dawn, whom all these years later is still occasionally treated like a child, warns Buffy and the rest of the “monkey’s paw” rule — any new gifts always come at a price — yet the original Scoobies pay her no heed. Silly Scoobies.

Dawn is right, of course, as we soon learn that all this power is coming from the Slayers who have been killed. Once dead, their power leaks out of their bodies and is absorbed by Buffy. Yeah, so flying and superspeed doesn’t seem so jolly, now, does it?

Meanwhile, Giles, Faith, and Andrew, who we know from the previous episode have been kidnapped, awaken in the lair of none other than Twilight, with a promise that in the next issue he will finally be unmasked.

Artist Georges Jeanty continues to step up his game, particularly with Buffy  and Xander, as you could see in their poses the mannerisms that Sarah Michelle Gellar and Nicholas Brendan brought to their characters, so that they almost seemed like stills from the show. Well done, sir.

Newcomer Brad Meltzer absolutely nailed the dialogue of each and every character, so he deserves major kudos for his great ear. Furthermore, he provides a nice inside joke where Xander excitedly asks Buffy if she can “phase” and geeks out when describing Kitty Prude to an unenthusiastic Buffy. Joss Whedon has, of course, gone on record saying Kitty Pryde was the basis for Buffy.

The road towards the end of this “season” is winding down, and Buffy’s greatest strength was always its season finales. Season 8 has been an interesting and successful experiment, and I can’t wait to see where it all winds up.

Looking to buy any of the projects mentioned in this article (or any other media)? Support TheTorchOnline.com by purchasing it through this link.

Three and a Half Torches (Out of Five)

In 2003, Robin Hobb ended her third Realm of the Elderlings trilogy with Fool’s Fate. Six years later, the bestselling author has returned to Bingtown with Dragon Keeper, the first of two books in the “Rain Wild Chronicles.”

According to the provisions of their negotiation at the end of Fool’s Fate, Tintaglia has shepherded her serpents up Rain Wild River, but when the tangle begins to cocoon, it becomes apparent that something is dreadfully wrong. The baby dragons can’t fly or fend for themselves, and since Tintaglia took off with her new mate at the end of “The Tawny Man Trilogy,” the task of maintaining the infants falls to the townspeople in Cassarick.

When the financial and physical burden becomes too much to bear, the Cassarickians recruit Thymara and Alise Finbok as dragon keepers to escort the tangle to the Elderling city of Kelsingra.

Thymara is essentially an outcast because of her physical limitations. She is mesmerized by the dragons after watching them hatch, and feels a kinship with them because of her own deformities. Alise Finbok, on the other hand, is a bored housewife with a head full of dragon lore and a nose for adventure.

Hobb is deft at writing strong, complex, authentic female protagonists, and she’s created two highly relatable ones in Thymara and Alise. The Dragon Keeper is as richly-imagined as her other stories, though it reads a little more like her earlier trilogies (with the story being told through four different narrators).

Long-time fans will sink back into Hobbs’ luscious prose with abandon, but newcomers — or anyone looking for a standalone novel — might have a hard time schlepping through the obscenely long setup. The ending is also uncharacteristically abrupt.

Hobbs originally wrote the “Rain Wild Chronicles” as one book, but her publishers decided to split it in two, which explains the bizarre pacing. If you can hang in for the exposition, you’ll reap the payoff in old friends from previous trilogies.

Dragon Keeper was released in the UK and Australia last summer, but only hit shelves in America on Tuesday. The follow-up novel, Dragon Haven, will be released in 2011.

I’ve been a Hobb fan for a long time, and will pick up Dragon Haven with the same eagerness as Dragon Keeper. I have a feeling they will read much better when paired together.

Looking to buy this book (or any other media)? Support TheTorchOnline.com by purchasing it through this link.

Four Torches (Out of Five)

I am a huge fan of the original three Kushiel books (which began with Kushiel’s Dart), written by Jacqueline Carey (who we interviewed last year).

Not only were the books an enormous amount of campy, melodramatic fun, Carey did something bold: she brought full-fledged erotic writing — even S&M! — into the sometimes-staid world of fantasy fiction.

Talk about shaking up a genre! As an experiment, I thought it was an unparalleled success.

I admit I was a little less impressed by her follow-up trilogy (that began with Kushiel’s Scion and that focused on the teenage boy character of Imiriel — Carey’s always been a wordy writer, but this seemed to meander too much, and for some reason, I just didn’t get into the main character). And while I appreciate her trying something very different, her two-part series The Sundering didn’t really speak to me either.

So I approached Naamah’s Kiss, the first in a new trilogy set in the world of “Kushiel,” with a little trepidation.

I needn’t have worried. The book is a wonderful return to the triumph that was her first trilogy.

Seventeen-year-old Moirin was raised in the wild, the latest in a dwindling line of magical people. Like Phedre, she is also stunningly beautiful and hyper-sexual — and everyone she meets soon falls madly in love with her.

But Moirin is shown by her bear “god” that she has a big role to play in the fate of the world, so she sets off on a quest, to Terre d’Ange to look for her father, a D’Angeline priest serving Naamah, the goddess of desire (naturally). Soon she’s traveling to even more distant lands: the empire of Ch’in.

It’s all a very heady, readable journey.

So why not a higher “torch” rating? Truthfully, I was tempted, because I really did enjoy the book. But it must be said: the story reads very similar to the story of Phedre in the Kushiel books.

It’s not just that, like Phedre, Moirin is stunningly beautiful, and that everyone, from the queen to the daughter of the Chinese emperor (or at least the spirit of a dragon trapped inside of her), immediately falls madly in love with her, and has explicit, sometimes kinky sex with her.

It’s that the structure of the book is very similar too: she’s “adopted” by a rich noble, scandalizes the city (despite being “above” it all), then sets off for foreign, but historically familiar lands. And despite superficial differences, the “voice” of the character is very similar to Phedre too.

In short, there is a sense of “been there, done that.” Rather than try to completely reinvent herself (again), she’s clearly returning to the font of her greatest success.

No shame in that: it’s still a terrific read. If you enjoyed any of the previous Kushiel books, I guarantee you’ll like this one too.

Looking to buy something mentioned in this article (or any other media)? Support TheTorchOnline.com by purchasing it through this link.

Three and a Half Torches (Out of Five)

After the tantalizing cliffhanger that ended the last issue, in which we see Buffy floating hundreds of yards in the air, we knew we were up for something big. And we get it, as the latest issue picks up with Buffy flying through the air, Superman-style, mentioning to herself how strong she feels.

In the immediate aftermath of the battle that’s been featured in the last two issues, we catch up with the currently powerless Slayers, who are nursing their own wounded, as well as Twilight’s soldiers. The three havoc-wreaking goddesses are still bent on destruction, and Willow can do nothing to stop them. Finally, after a confessional chat with Xander, Buffy outs herself as newly super-empowered and buries the goddesses deep in the ground.

Overview: This issue was written by the man himself, Joss Whedon, and thus the dialogue had that familiar flow of the series (much like the issues written by Jane Espenson), so for that alone it’s worth it. But overall not a whole lot happens here. We discover Faith, Andrew, and Giles have been kidnapped by Twilight, a small heart-to-heart between Buffy and Riley, a lengthy talk between Buffy and Xander, and finally Buffy’s revelation of her new powers.

But it’s really the encounter between Buffy and Xander that is the focus of this story. Having learned that Xander and Dawn are dating, Buffy professes that she has feelings for Xander, who puts her in her place, saying she’s confused and selfish, in a nice way, of course. In essence, he’s having none of it, and Buffy admits it was tactless.

And that’s what’s great about Joss Whedon’s vision: he’s created a hero who is seriously, deeply flawed in the way that we’re all seriously, deeply flawed. Super strength and (now) the power of flight do not place her emotionally above any of us, and she’s as prone to moments of pettiness as the rest of us, even if her pettier moments come between the times she’s busying herself saving the world.

I also want to point out that artist Georges Jeanty, who I’ve said I’ve found unimpressive in previous issues, seems to have upped his game, returning to his more detailed, nuanced drawings that he started the series with. I’m beginning to think the reason his art has seemed a little off is because he’s been rushed. With December off, it’s been two months since the last issue that he drew, and his style is noticeably sharper. So well done, Mr. Jeanty.

Since the series started in March of 2007, we’ve had to deal with something that’s unusual for Buffy (but not comics in general): a masked villain. In the letters column, we’re promised that Twilight’s identity will be revealed in naught but a few months. After three years, I’d say it’s about time.

Looking to buy any of the projects mentioned in this article (or any other media)? Support TheTorchOnline.com by purchasing it through this link.

Four and a Half Torches (Out of Five)

The premise of The Legend of Neil, a new fantasy-comedy web series, is that a loser named Neil is masturbating to a female elf inside the game of Zelda when he auto-erotic-asphyxiates himself and somehow ends up magically transported to a land of fantasy cliches.

If you find that premise hilarious (and I admit, I do), you’ll like this NSFW series a lot.

First, it must be said: for me, a little bit of ironic-hipster slacker humor goes a long way, at least in these days of irony-overload.

What saves The Legend of a Neil from a feeling of “been there, done that” is its still-ironic, but very fantasy-specific humor, sending up every kind of fantasy cliche and convention imaginable.

It pretty much all works: a cave is marked “Level 1,” and a character is able to carry all manner of equipment by storing it in his (non-existent) “inventory.”  The (cliche gay-esque) villain threatens, “Don’t make me turn the fog machines back on! Yes, fog equals power.” The dragon says, “Hey, you’re in the one part of the room that I can’t reach! That’s not fair!”

Like Buffy and Xena, the show even has a musical episode — the third one of the second season (and the music is surprisingly good!). During “The Mentor Song,” the mentor sings, “Our clues are often confounding, our lessons condescend, and we wait until you’re practically dead before we come through in the end!”

I’m sorry, but for a fantasy (and musical theater!) geek like me, this is some pretty funny stuff.

More humor is mined from the sets and special effects, which are both gloriously cheesy and impressively inventive.

The series flags a little from time-to-time, but it’s still much more consistently funny than last year’s Krod Mandoon and the Flaming Sword of Fire, which ran on Comedy Central and, no doubt, had a far larger budget.

I’m not surprised The Legend of Neil has been one of the more successful web-series to date, and even been picked up for distribution by Atom.com (a partner of Comedy Central, all owned by MTV).

It’s pretty great.

Here’s the first episode:

Watch the other episodes.

Looking to buy any of the projects mentioned in this article (or any other media)? Support TheTorchOnline.com by purchasing it through this link.