Tag: writing

Oreus 2 (iii)

Soldiers in combat-ready wheelchairs strategizing around a holographic table in a wasteland bunker.

Oreus’ eyebrows raised on seeing them. Both suffered from some sort of paralysis or at least that was what they claimed.

The Mangans embraced the color red, sporting in on their chairs, jackets, and even dying their hair.

The Rangers were despised by all the other teams, as they took delight in torturing their victims slowly.

A stench entered the room. Oreus’ face twitched.

Roisin grinned. “He’ll doon be here.”

The Governor entered the room. He looked like death. “Ah, good, most of you are here.”

“You never informed me that this would be a Gathering!” The anger in Oreus’ voice was palpable.

“None of us were informed,” Brigid replied, staring right into his eyes.

“Stop it!” The Governor shouted. “There is no time for your squabbles. You will be quiet and your grievances aside for now.

He took a large breath. “There is an issue with the supply of grain to the planet. Prices are about to rise by fifteen percent. A percentage of the population, relatively small will starve. However, that concerns me not. There must be no disorder. A new enemy has entered the quadrant, and production must not be affected.”

After rubbing his nose, he continued, “That’s where the Wheelchair Wars come in.”

A Westmeath Man (Comedy)

A wooden rowing boat moored at a stone jetty on a calm, misty lake.

My dear readers, I was given the most terrible insult the other day, that I wasn’t a proper Westmeath man. Why, you may wonder? Well, I didn’t watch the Westmeath v Wexford match on TV about two weeks ago. Apparently, if I had then, maybe I could have willed Westmeath to victory with my special powers.

We’ll forget for now that I was born in Dublin, my parents grew up in Offaly, and a grandparent from Cork. Important facts when one of those counties is in with a chance of an All-Ireland.

And this grave insult came from my friend, who is known by the moniker BobDTraitor. Only on my phone, mind you. I’m not evil. How did he get such a name? Well, ladies and gentlemen, think back to that glorious day in 2004, when Westmeath won Leinster for the first and only time. Surely, you would want to celebrate with your people, not off at some random party with Dublin people. Poor life decisions, I’d say. And treachery.

What is it about Westmeath I love so much? Is it the people? The people from Kinnegad with their funny accents, those squinting windows in Delvin, or even people from Athlone, who lack souls according to the good people of Mullingar.

This is about pride of place, I reckon. I’ll be friends with people from all over the world, even from far-off places like Nigeria, Meath, Poland, and Monaghan. We’re all humans.

So maybe it’s the great wilderness in the County, you know, out there by Castlepollard. Or what we call the Great Lakes, midlands, and Irish style.

Maybe to be a Westmeath man, you have to be just like me.

And to the Westmeath football and hurling teams – I’ll try better next time.

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Epic Review of 2012: A Disaster Movie Masterpiece

Skyscrapers collapsing into a fiery lava-filled chasm under a dark, stormy sky with lightning.

I watched this old blockbuster yesterday. Okay, I admit it. I only recalled watching it years ago, about halfway through.

2012 (2009), directed by Roland Emmerich, stands as one of the most exhilarating and ambitious disaster films ever made—a true spectacle that delivers non-stop thrills, jaw-dropping visual effects, and an unapologetic celebration of human resilience in the face of apocalyptic chaos. If you’re looking for a movie that turns the end of the world into an edge-of-your-seat rollercoaster ride, this is it. Emmerich, the master behind classics like Independence Day and The Day After Tomorrow, outdoes himself here with a film that prioritizes pure cinematic excitement over subtlety, and it succeeds brilliantly on those terms. The car driving along while all the buildings collapsed on either side was particularly memorable.

At its core, 2012 follows a diverse group of characters as they race against time to survive a series of cataclysmic events triggered by massive solar flares that destabilize Earth’s crust. John Cusack stars as Jackson Curtis, a struggling writer and divorced dad who becomes an unlikely hero, desperately trying to save his family amid the unfolding global nightmare. Amanda Peet plays his ex-wife Kate, Chiwetel Ejiofor brings gravitas as a dedicated scientist working for the U.S. government, and Woody Harrelson adds memorable eccentricity as a conspiracy theorist who sees it all coming. The ensemble cast handles the mix of personal drama and high-stakes action with sincerity, making you genuinely care about their fates even as the planet crumbles around them.What truly elevates 2012 is its breathtaking scale and groundbreaking visual effects. This is Emmerich at his most extravagant: entire cities like Los Angeles are torn apart by massive earthquakes, with roads splitting open, buildings collapsing in domino fashion, and cars desperately navigating collapsing freeways in one of the most intense opening sequences in cinema history. Yellowstone erupts in a fiery cataclysm, mega-tsunamis swallow landmarks worldwide, and iconic sites—from the White House to the Vatican—meet spectacular ends.

The CGI, which was cutting-edge for its time and still holds up remarkably well, creates immersive, awe-inspiring destruction that feels both terrifying and exhilarating. Scenes like the family’s frantic escape through crumbling Los Angeles or the desperate boarding of massive “arks” designed to save humanity are pure adrenaline, blending practical stunts with seamless digital wizardry to deliver one jaw-dropping set piece after another.

Beyond the spectacle, the film taps into a universal theme of hope and survival. Despite the overwhelming odds, 2012 never descends into pure nihilism. It balances the chaos with moments of heart—family reconciliations, acts of selflessness, and a quiet optimism that humanity can endure even the worst.

The screenplay cleverly weaves in real-world inspirations from the Mayan calendar prophecy (popular at the time) while keeping the focus on character-driven stakes. At nearly 2 hours and 40 minutes, it gives ample time for both intimate emotional beats and globe-spanning devastation, ensuring the pacing rarely lets up once the disasters begin.Critics may sometimes dismiss it as over-the-top or cheesy, but that’s missing the point—2012 knows exactly what it is and embraces it wholeheartedly. It’s big, loud, and unpretentious fun that prioritizes entertainment value above all else.

The sound design amplifies every rumble and crash, pulling you deeper into the experience, while the score heightens the emotional and epic tones. For fans of disaster movies, it’s a standout: more intense and visually ambitious than many of its peers, with a sense of wonder amid the wreckage. In the end, 2012 is a triumphant blockbuster that reminds us why we go to the movies—to witness the impossible, feel the rush of adventure, and emerge with a renewed appreciation for the fragility (and strength) of life.

If you haven’t seen it, do yourself a favor and experience it on the biggest screen possible. It’s a wild, unforgettable ride that delivers pure cinematic joy through destruction. Highly recommended for anyone who loves epic scale, heartfelt moments, and the sheer thrill of watching the world (almost) end.

Five stars for sheer spectacle and entertainment value from me! I caught up with it on Disney+

Animal Kingdom Review: A Gripping Crime Drama on Netflix

Hello readers, I do hope you are all keeping good. A nice series for you on this Monday afternoon. It’s called Animal Kingdom, and currently available on Netflix.

It’s one of those rare television series that grabs your attention from the very first episode and never lets go. Animal Kingdom is an American crime drama television series developed by Jonathan Lisco. It is based on the 2010 Australian film of the same name, which in turn was inspired by the criminal Pettingill family. The series was produced by David Michôd, who wrote and directed the original film.

The series centers on Joshua “J” Cody who, after the death of his mother when he was 17 years old, moves in with his estranged relatives, the Codys, who run a criminal family enterprise set in Oceanside, California, that is governed by the respected matriarch Janine “Smurf” Cody.

What makes the show truly exceptional is how it balances high-stakes criminal activity with rich emotional storytelling. The family’s heists are thrilling and expertly staged, but the real drama comes from the relationships within the family—loyalty, betrayal, jealousy, and the constant struggle for power.

The writing throughout the episodes I’ve seen (First seven episodes of first series) is consistently sharp and layered. Each episode builds tension in a natural way, developing long-term storylines while keeping the pace gripping. The characters evolve significantly over time, which makes the journey feel authentic rather than repetitive. You genuinely feel the consequences of their choices, and the show never shies away from the darker sides of its characters.

The performances are outstanding across the board. Ellen Barkin delivers a magnetic portrayal of Smurf, creating a character who is both intimidating and strangely charismatic. The younger members of the Cody family are equally compelling, each bringing their own personality and internal conflicts to the story. Their dynamics—sometimes supportive, often volatile—create the emotional core of the series.

Another strength of the series is its realism. The criminal world is portrayed with grit and consequence rather than glamor. Every heist carries risk, and every decision has repercussions that ripple through the family. This grounded approach makes the drama feel far more impactful than many typical crime shows.

Drawbacks –

It is unclear how Smurf maintains control. She threatens them with being out of the family, never physically. It’s unclear why she cannot simply be bypassed.

Not much violence. A cop has been accidentally killed so far.

So far, I give the show 3 and a half marks out of five.

Have you seen it? Let me know what you think.

I’ll be back when I get through the six seasons.

Wheelchair Wars (i)

Oh my Emperor, please let me suffer and die in your name – A nun’s prayer from The Order of Deliverance

The Emperor is our God; may we suffer greatly for our salvation – A nun from the Order of Retribution

Our Emperor, who doth rule from Earth,

Hallow be thy name,

Thy Empire conquer all,

What is done on Earth pervades the Universe

Give us your spirit and courage,

Forgive us any trespass

And deliver us to your Service

The chanting reverberated through Audrey’s body. Her two surviving roommates were on their knees on each side of her, and her wheelchair. In front of them, holding a wooden triangle, in her habit was Sister Nora. A tall woman with an aquine face, she towered over them. Her face is stern. The chanting has been going on for nearly half an hour in the small prayer room.

“That’s enough now, girls. You can go back to your room.” Sister Nora spoke in an authoritative tone, devoid of any love or intimacy.

The two girls on either side of Audrey rose, their faces twisted in pain from their stiff knees.

Audrey struggled to reverse and turn her manual wheelchair in the small space between two aisles of pews. One of the girls begins to push her and whispers into her ear. “I’ll let you take it easy, since it’s your last night with us. Ya lucky bitch.” Audrey looked back at her friend, Grainne, with a small smile. The other girl was Mary.

The few minutes it took to reach the dormitory down narrow, dark corridors were spent in silence.

Their dormitory was large with enough space for thirty girls. But there were only the three of them, and they clustered near the door. A pang shot through Audrey when she thought of all those that were missing. Disease had taken many, batterings from the sisters took some more. The others were sold to slave in the brothels.

Audrey’s movements were slower than those of others. It took longer for her to remove her purple uniform. That, and she couldn’t walk.

After lifting up her footplates and parking beside the bed, she used her hands to propel herself onto it.

This was a time to sleep, and the lights would switch off in a few minutes. But that rarely happened. The darkness was the only time they had when they could be sure they were not being watched.

Grainne was the first to speak. “Going to miss you Audrey.”

“Yeah, me too,” Mary whispered.

Tears rolled down Audrey’s face. “Yeah, me too. And I hate the thought of leaving you here.”

“I doubt we’ll be here much longer,” Grainne replied. “One of the sisters told we’re being sold to Richies in a few days. I hate the thought of having to please all those old, smelly men. I’d rather have an opportunity like you, even if it risked death.”

“I don’t know if I could be as brave as Audrey,” Mary murmured, “You have already had so many great victories. And now tomorrow, you get to leave this place. The Na Fianna compound has to be better. At least one of us has a chance.”

Then there was silence.

When Audrey woke in the morning, they were gone. Instead, Sister Ita stood at the side of the bed. A round woman with piercing brown eyes. “Come on, get dressed. I’m to bring you to the Na Fianna compound. Give me a shout when you are ready.” With that, she turned and went to wait outside.

Audrey grimaced. Sister Ita was the last person she wanted to spend her day with. She was renowned for her vicious nature and taste for some of the younger girls. She tried to put such thoughts in the back of her mind.

As they left the convent, they paused in front of the large metallic triangle hanging from the ceiling. “To the eternal power of the Emperor,” they said in unison.

Outside the central door, they were immediately hit with the smell. A foul mixture of sweat and excrement. The thoroughfare was crowded with children in rags. “Why doesn’t the Emperor just annihilate this scum?” Audrey knew that the Sister wasn’t expecting a response.

The thoroughfare was a large area with a high ceiling. But the rest of the journey was down narrow passageways with poor lighting. Some of the living spaces they passed didn’t even have front doors. Audrey could see into the little hut rooms that passed as their abodes.

It took two hours to reach the Na Fianna compound. Audrey smiled with glee every time the Sister moaned about having to push her creaky wheelchair and her meagre belongings.

Serves the bitch right after all she has done.

Oreus was waiting for them as they entered the bright and clean compound. The Sister gasped at the limbless man in the powerful, armed wheelchair. Audey had met him previously and said a warm hello.

Oreus ignored the Sister as if she were not there. He ordered one of his men to lift Audrey into an electric wheelchair.

“Now, you can come and go as you please, Audrey. Never again will you have to rely on a walker for movement,” Oreus voice boomed, “now follow me.”

Audrey looked around to see that the hated Sister was gone before pushing the joystick to follow Oreus. There were others there with all different manners of shapes, sizes, and malformations. She hoped to get to know many of them better in time.

“This is your quarters. Battle practice in an hour or so. See you again then.You should take every moment here very seriously. Your life depends on it.”

The room was more spacious than she had anticipated. There was a single bed with white sheets and a pillow. There were no stains like back at the convent. There was even a drawer for her clothes. There were some blotches on the green wall, but that wouldn’t bother her.

An hour later, she had unpacked and gone to the great hall for training.

The Rise of Judit Polgár: Insights from ‘Queen of Chess’

My dear readers, anybody who knows me for real knows how much I love chess. And yes, it is a sport. Everyday, I go to Chess.com and make a few moves. So, I immediately felt upbeat when there was a chess documentary to watch.

Queen of Chess is a 2026 documentary film that explores the life and career of Hungarian chess grandmaster Judit Polgár. It focuses on her father’s efforts to train her and her two sisters to become chess grandmasters, and on the saga of her multiple and intense matches against the then-formidable world champion Garry Kasparov. It was directed by Rory Kennedy.

It is a captivating and inspiring documentary that transcends the world of competitive chess to tell a deeply human story about ambition, resilience, and the pursuit of excellence. From its opening moments, the film draws viewers into the intellectual intensity and emotional stakes of a game often misunderstood as purely cerebral, revealing instead a landscape rich with drama, creativity, and personal sacrifice.

One of the documentary’s greatest strengths is its storytelling. Rather than focusing solely on wins, rankings, and tournaments, it explores the protagonist’s journey with nuance and empathy. We see not just a brilliant strategist at the board, but a person navigating pressure, expectations, and identity in a field historically dominated by men. The film deftly balances moments of triumph with vulnerability, making the narrative both powerful and relatable.

A drawback for chess lovers is that it doesn’t go into the matches in detail. It does reference what openings are played, the fact that Kasparov almost always played the Sicilian, for instance.

The documentary gives a broad perspective. It contextualizes Judit Polgár’s achievements within the cultural and social realities of the chess world, touching on themes of gender, representation, and the cost of greatness. These elements elevate the film beyond a sports documentary, transforming it into a thoughtful reflection on what it means to challenge boundaries and redefine what is possible.

Four stars out of five from me.

A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms: Stunning Visuals and Storytelling

My dear readers, I have currently watched the first three episodes of A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms. It’s a slow burner but it’s growing on me. It is a captivating return to the world of Westeros, offering a refreshing, character-driven story that proves the Game of Thrones universe (it is set one hundred years prior to the last series) still has rich tales left to tell. Rather than relying on massive battles and political spectacle alone, the series shines through its intimacy, emotional depth, and timeless sense of adventure.

Created by Ira Parker and George RR Martin, it is the third television series in Martin’s A Song of Ice and Fire franchise and is an adaptation of the Tales of Dunk and Egg series of novellas, beginning with The Hedge Knight. It stars Peter Claffey as Ser Duncan “Dunk” the Tall, the titular hedge knight, and Dexter Sol Ansell as his squire Aegon “Egg” Targaryen.

At the heart of the story is the unlikely duo of Ser Duncan the Tall and his sharp-witted squire, Egg. Their relationship is the soul of the series—warm, humorous, and deeply human. Duncan’s sincerity and moral compass contrast beautifully with Egg’s intelligence and hidden nobility, creating a dynamic that feels both authentic and endearing. Watching their bond grow across each episode is as rewarding as any grand plot twist.

Visually, A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms is stunning. The cinematography captures the beauty and brutality of the medieval-inspired landscapes with remarkable detail. From dusty tournament fields to quiet country roads and imposing castles, every setting feels alive and immersive. The production design and costumes further enhance the authenticity of the era, grounding the fantasy in a tangible, believable world. Of particular note, the scenery is from Northern Ireland.

So far, I give it four stars out of five and was happy to hear its getting a second series. I just hope that the ending is better than Game of Thrones.

Exploring Humanity in _The Great Flood_: A Film Review

One of the best things about Netflix is that you get to watch films and documentaries from all over the world. One such film is The Great Flood from South Korea. It was co-written and directed by Kim Byung-woo.

An-na, an AI researcher and recent widow, played by Kim-Da-mi, wakes in her apartment to find floodwater rising in the thirty-floor complex. With her six-year-old son Ja-in, she attempts to reach safety.

However, they are no ordinary mother and child. The child is a robot designed to experience emotion. This is critical to the whole film. An asteroid has hit, and human extinction is imminent. World governments knew what was going to happen and funded secret efforts to survive, including a space station and research into the creation of engineered human bodies and consciousness. An-na’s employer is also revealed to be involved in these projects, putting her and her child central to humanity’s future.

What stands out most is the film’s balance between scale and humanity. While the flood itself is rendered with striking visual power—ominous skies, rising waters, and carefully staged moments of chaos—the story never loses sight of the people caught within it. The narrative lingers on personal choices, moral dilemmas, and quiet acts of courage, allowing the disaster to feel not just catastrophic, but deeply personal. This focus gives the film an emotional weight that elevates it beyond a standard disaster movie.

The performances are uniformly strong, grounded, and convincing. Rather than leaning into melodrama, the actors bring restraint and authenticity, making fear, grief, and resilience feel earned. Small gestures and silences often speak louder than dialogue, and those understated moments are some of the film’s most powerful.

Technically, The Great Flood is impressively crafted. The cinematography captures both the beauty and menace of nature, using light, color, and movement to heighten tension. The sound design is particularly effective—the rush of water, distant alarms, and sudden quiet all work together to create a visceral experience that keeps the audience on edge. The pacing is deliberate, allowing suspense to build naturally while still delivering moments of urgency and release.

Ultimately, The Great Flood is a film about survival in the broadest sense: not just surviving a natural catastrophe, but preserving compassion, responsibility, and hope when everything familiar is threatened.

If nothing else, it is a great story. With AI coming to the forefront of our lives, I expect more films of this nature in the future. Four out of five stars from me.

Documentary Review: I’m Chevy Chase and You’re Not

Those of my readers around in the eighties will probably remember Chevy Chase. I remembered him from comedic films from the time period, but it had been many years since I even thought of him.

So, I said I’d give this documentary film a try. Its name is “I’m Chevy Chase and You’re Not.” From the start, it becomes clear that his bad reputation as a coworker will be a big focus, as well as his past drug abuse.

The film does an excellent job of reminding you just how seismic Chase’s impact on comedy really was. Saturday Night Live doesn’t just get a nod—it gets a victory lap. Watching early clips of Gerald Ford tumbling down stairs and Chase anchoring Weekend Update is like seeing comedy history being invented in real time, mostly held together with duct tape and confidence. The documentary smartly lets these moments breathe, trusting the material to remind you why Chase was, for a time, the funniest man in America.

Then come the movies, and oh, what a parade it is. Caddyshack, Fletch, National Lampoon’s Vacation—the documentary rolls through them like a greatest-hits album where every track is either iconic or inexplicably quotable. There’s a genuine joy in revisiting how Chase perfected the art of the smug, clueless, yet weirdly lovable leading man. His comic persona—equal parts charm and chaos—gets the credit it deserves as a blueprint for generations of comedians who followed.

But then there are the drugs. And he did a lot. And he could be mean. The drug abuse, his comedy, and this meanness all likely have one source – an abusive mother. He developed it as a coping mechanism. It is one he still uses as he makes jokes to deflect difficult or awkward moments, even in his eighties. Still, even his meanness comes off as him being a bit of a rascal.

When the stories get messy. You come away with the sense that Chase’s imperfections didn’t cancel out his contributions—they complicated them, humanized them, and, strangely, made his successes even more impressive.

By the end, the documentary feels less like a verdict and more like a well-earned, slightly crooked standing ovation. It celebrates a man who made millions of people laugh, sometimes by falling down, sometimes by being the joke, and sometimes by being in on it all along.

It gets four out of five stars from me.

If you’ve seen it, what did you think?

Exploring _The Salt Path Scandal_: A Review

Well, readers, I watched this gem on Sky earlier. The first few minutes revisit what had been a best-selling book, later turned into a starring Gillian Anderson.

The show lulls you into a tranquil daze. There are drone shots of cliffs that look like they’ve been photoshopped by the concept of serenity itself. Gentle strings hum. Someone says something earnest about “healing.” You exhale. It’s about a 650-mile walk you can do in the South West of England as told by Raynor Winn. She had just lost her house, and her husband was diagnosed with a terminal illness. The walk was transformative.

And then—record scratch—a talking head appears to ask a question so sharp it could open tinned beans: “But did that actually happen?” From there, The Salt Path Scandal becomes less a journey and more a brisk hike through footnotes.

The documentary’s true star is its tone, which can best be described as polite British skepticism wearing a fleece. Nobody yells. Nobody lunges. Instead, the filmmakers deploy the deadliest weapon in the national arsenal: calm, persistent follow-ups. “Just to clarify,” a narrator says, with the menace of a librarian about to revoke privileges. Every “just to clarify” lands like a small pebble in your shoe—annoying, impossible to ignore, and increasingly painful over time.

You see, the book claimed to be a memoir. Like, it was supposed to be true. But once, a journalist, Hadjimatheou, probed a bit. Well, there were reasons to be skeptical.

Structurally, the series is a masterclass in pacing. Each episode introduces a claim, lets it bask in sunlight, then quietly rotates it to reveal a price tag, a date discrepancy, or a witness who remembers things… differently. It’s less gotcha journalism and more hmm, interesting journalism,

By the finale, you’re left amused, mildly scandalized, and deeply suspicious of any memoir. The truth is out there somewhere.

It gets four stars out of five from me.

Have you seen it? Let me know what you think.