"Alien Resurrection" by Jean-Pierre Jeunet (1997)

Fourth chapter in "Alien" saga and probably my least favourite, "Alien Resurrection" is set 200 years after the previous movie and has Sigourney Weaver fighting the Aliens with a help of paid mercenary warriors who arrive on a military spaceship where secret experiments are made. This time Weaver is strangely sympathetic to Aliens and eventually we find the reason why. The medical team and government officials are bad guys here and mercenary warriors just a necessary victims that get chewed along the way.

Its back to action - shoot them, run, scream and swim - which is unfortunate because at certain points this saga hinted at deeper, more substantial directions where the story could go. If 1979. original was tense and atmospheric and 1992. version dared to ask some serious questions about faith and redemption, this one avoid anything remotely meaningful and simply goes for pyrotechnics. It also has deeply disturbing final sequence that got stuck in my brain, there is something awful in that even though we understand the creature is not human. Winona Ryder (of all people) has surprisingly strong turn as young member of paid criminals and we gradually find out there is much more to her than her youthful sulkiness. At this point, Weaver is already such unusual character that she is just a resemblance of her previous 1979. self - she is highly effective and a joy to watch but it made me wonder isn't this sort of restrictive pigeonhole, because its hard to watch her in anything else after this (I have to see something else now by her). I perfectly understand her reluctance to continue with the saga because at this point it appears as her character has come to cul-de-sac that comes close to parody.

"Alien 3" by David Fincher (1992)

Like some futuristic Robinson Crusoe, Sigourney Weaver gets marooned on a windswept, godforsaken corner of the universe - it is in fact, prisoners colony and everybody is immediately disturbed because inmates have not seen woman in ages (and definitely not the one like this) + messages from the corporation insist this strange intruder is of utmost importance. Unknown to inhabitants of this deserted, apocalyptic place, Weaver is not the only visitor.

Spiritually closer to the psychologically tense and scary original, "Alien 3" combines the best of both worlds, claustrophobic atmosphere of 1979. movie and pyrotechnics fuelled action of 1986. version. Although panned by critics, in my personal opinion it surpasses ho-hum gun-toting predecessor because it suggest desolation, depression and utter isolation of prisoners who have nothing going on for them - they are left here to slowly die out and nobody is going to forgive or help them. They even don't have any weapons because nobody is going to escape relatively safe buildings and run into emptiness around them. When Alien starts running around, prisoners face the basic fight for survival and its clearly shown how lonely they are - they are forced to fight together or die. Yes, there is a lot of action, fire, running, screaming and special effects by far exceed anything seen in series so far, but for me the main interest lies in atmosphere of doom and utter isolation of the place. Sigourney Weaver is excellent as usual, though Charles Dance initially seems partner worthy of her, he is really charismatic actor. I couldn't care less what critics said, because it is actually highly effective and it reminds me on "Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome" but without those annoying children. 

"Beti Jurković" EP by Beti Jurković (1961)

If Ivo Robić and Rajka Vali stand as a respectable pioneers of post/WW2 pop music in Croatia and the roots of the family tree that later sprouted new branches, these venerable ancestors inspired the second generation of singers who came right after them, on the wave of than-popular local variations of San Remo: almost everybody who started in the late 1950s were crooners who, at various degrees grew up idolising American pop singers and emulated whatever they could. 

It took me awhile to warm up to Beti Jurković because she sounds so sunny and ebullient - eventually I accepted that this was her trademark and not unlike her Slovenian counterpart Marjana Deržaj, Jurković basically built her repertoire from swing and dixieland covers (they often worked with the same people and even recorded several duets). Gifted with cheerful voice, clear diction and bright disposition, on her first EP recording (released on Belgrade's PGP RTB as a part of their series of dance music recordings) she swings trough collection of international covers and is backed by elegant orchestra that never strays too far from the melody. Considering this was the era when international pop artists were already singing rock, this tame little recording might sound as a throwback to previous decade - nothing wrong with the singer who chirps and croons as she was told, but apparently local discography was still in early stage when certain rules had to be followed and anything individual was strongly discouraged. For the rest of the decade Jurković focused on pop festivals and later slowly disappeared from view as the music business changed. 

"Aliens" by James Cameron (1986)

James Cameron steps in and brings his own vision - the main difference between the original and the sequel is that original was atmospheric, claustrophobic and focused on evil lurking in the dark. This time everything is done on much larger scale, pneumatic and mostly brightly lit - it is unrepentant action movie with ho-hum soldiers swaggering around with some heavy weapons and even Sigourney Weaver gets to blast everything with flamethrower. Although I perfectly understand the logic behind continuing profit-making franchise, it steps away from original idea that was genuinely terrifying because it played with our fear of unknown and focuses on crowd-pleasing pyrotechnic effects, explosions and thunderous destructions, therefore leaving me oddly involved - no wonder I didn't watch it back in the day, because this type of movies didn't appeal to my younger self and still don't. 

Paul Reiser is the most interesting character here, because he represents corporate greed that puts financial interests before anything else and he is ready to sacrifice everybody for the sake of $$$ - we can almost see little wheels turning in his cash-register brain every step of the way and the way he calculates possibilities of returning like hero and getting rich out of it is scariest than any of malevolent beings that harass human characters. The rest of the characters (or the story) is basically cartoon-like, nothing to analyse here in depth since focus in on action, shooting and screaming. Where previously we encountered treacherous android, this time Lance Henriksen is a good one. And instead of frantically searching for the cat (like in original) this time Weaver runs around to save a child - it is explained with her traumatic personal experience but personally I always found children in action movies being just a nuisance, this one not exception, mainly being here just to hinder the escape and fall into abysmal pits from where she needs to be rescued. I think this cooled me off the whole saga for a while. 

"Alien" by Ridley Scott (1979)

Since I enjoyed "Alien: Covenant" so much, I decided to go back and watch the original trilogy that somehow escaped me back in the day. The reason why I never bothered earlier is perhaps because I was so familiar with the image of sweaty Sigourney Weaver waving weapons around the spaceship that somehow I just assumed that I have seen it - wrong, I have actually never seen it before and as for everything there is a season, obviously the right time for this. And the right frame of mind.

It would be safe to assume that almost 40 years old SF movie will appear dated because technology improved so much in the meantime that whatever special effects artists had at their disposal at the time is quaint nowadays. Wrong - because "Alien" don't depend on special effects and director Ridley Scott insisted that everything is hidden in the shadows and only hinted at, the fear and horror is still genuinely gripping. Of all the movie directors I know, Scott resembles Stanley Kubrick the most in a sense that he follows Kubrick's certain atmospheric uneasiness, the space is cold and foreboding, people are basically small and vulnerable in all that emptiness. The plot is by now too-well known to go into details, in short we have space ship with coffee-guzzling, cigarette-smoking crew that appears strangely mismatched (therefore very realistic, just as any regular team forced to work together) and as they find strange signal coming from a small planet, they are obliged to follow the procedure and investigate its source. Just in my worst nightmares, alien life proves not to be peace-bringing and wise, but malevolent and dangerous indeed. 

The movie is still indisputably scary and disturbing - it is perhaps more horror that SF, come to think of it - and Scott plays with audiences not unlike Hitchcock, where we are watching something, fully understanding that unpleasant things might happen just around the corner. It kind of starts slow but it builds the tension to almost unbearable degree and once the action start rolling, I smoked almost the whole pack of cigarettes and was occasionally glancing at the dark around me.

When the movies are really good, I start imagining myself in the story and this one had me totally involved. Sigourney Weaver became world-famous overnight because of this movie and deservedly so, it is quite unusual role that has nothing to do with meek girlfriends or quietly suffering mothers usually depicted on screen, she is serious kick-ass authority and someone capable of holding that position. Just leave the fucking cat! Aaargh! 

"Pilgrimage" by Brendan Muldowney (2017)

Small-budget historical movie that uneasily totters between action and philosophy - the trailer was misleading, because it promised lots of sword fights and hacked limbs but in fact it wasn't about this at all: it was also one of those movies where you sit patiently, waiting for something really important to happen, just to realise it's almost finale and that's all there is to it. 

Main star attraction here is "Walking dead" star Jon Bernthal who probably brought audience here - I understand the reasons why he thought this might be better than average action fluff US cinematography usually offers, but the results are somewhat underwhelming, despite Bernthal's best efforts. You see, Bernthal character is a mysterious, mute stranger who found solace and refuge amongst medieval Irish monks and is now given task to follow them trough dangerous & treacherous terrains, where they must to travel with some highly important religious relic to deliver it to Rome. Nowadays, transport of anything like this would take just a few hours but in medieval world this was a journey that takes months and of course all sorts of enemies lurked everywhere. Monks themselves are quite gullible and inexperienced (youngest of them is novice Tom Holland who has never been anywhere outside of monastery) so they are easy prey, but the enemy turns out not to be who we expect. Bernthal has several highly effective fight scenes - he is kind of gladiator and unfortunately movie just hints that his character has some mysterious past but never explores it - while there is also a very strong part played by Stanley Weber who represents evil power of manipulation and zealotry. The reason I didn't find this satisfactory was that movie actually promises much more - it could have been completely different story, with deep message about faith, redemption and greed but it goes too often for sword fights so its neither here or there. Somebody like Ingmar Bergman would approach it from different perspective and completely avoid bombastic music and fights. 

“Alien: Covenant” by Ridley Scott (2017)

Sixth movie in the "Alien" saga, this one was quite gripping. In fact, it was so good that I seriously considered to go back and watch the whole darn serial from the start, since I forgot lot about it and was just vaguely familiar with image of Sigourney Weaver being tortured by slimy Alien creatures. It might be that I actually never watched it and just assumed that I did. It also perfectly fits with my idea of Alien life potentially being very dangerous to humans, something that I take very seriously (just look at our own planet Earth, every time two civilisations collided, one usually swallowed and conquered another).

"Alien" movies, just like all successful series ("James Bond" for example) play around similar theme that doesn't really change with times: space ship populated with human crew usually finds a contact with Alien life and goes to search out more about it, just to find themselves completely overpowered by life forms completely different than themselves, who wants to either eat or impregnate them. It all started with director Ridley Scott almost 40 years ago, but various directors brought their own vision to franchise and actors changed with time. For this, latest sequel (prequel?) Scott comes back and he is excellent, not just as now extremely elderly (80) master of cinema but as superior artist period - what he brings to this modern-day chapter is not just spectacular visual treat but also a dark philosophy about creation of life, empty spaces and worlds devoid of any forms of life. Naturally, we don't have Sigourney Weaver anymore but completely different spaceship crew this time, with Katherine Waterston as grieving widow of ship's captain - just as Weaver before her, Waterston has to run, fight and shoot Aliens - like some futuristic Amazon, she is more than capable and we root for her. No less fascinating is dazzlingly versatile Michael Fassbender in a dual role of android - artificial intelligence at its best, that is supposed to be emotionless but it might not be so. I did have some doubts about logic of human crew stepping on a strange planet without any protection & getting all infected, but hey, this is SF movie after all and this saga has its own rules. Surprisingly, I enjoyed it so much that I watched it twice, imagine that. Designs are breathtaking and you simply must see the deserted town filled with towering sculptures carved from rock, it is something out of H.P.Lovecraft's nightmares.
--------------------------

O.K. Now I have watched the whole darn "Alien" serial, original four movies + prequels, you name it, I treated myself with them all.

Perhaps it is true that for everything has to be the right time and place. Locked up in uncomfortable plane seat during 14-hour flight I ended up watching “Alien: Covenant” that for some reason impressed me enough to search for its predecessors. I actually treated myself with the whole darn serial, sequels, prequels, you name it. If there is a cartoon version, I would go for that one as well. I came to the point of wondering does my dog have alien inside, because she is constantly hungry. Going backwards, the story finally unfolded to me and now I am able to connect the dots and understand the occasional hints towards previous chapters.

No doubt, the whole purpose of this particular story is not any of the slimy alien creatures or even human crew placed conveniently on spaceship as their food but android Michael Fassbender who brings everything on higher level. Initially I was overwhelmed with all this technical wizardry to actually appreciate his role but now I (sort of) understand that Scott wanted to tie up the ends and finish story while he is still around to do it. I watched the darn thing twice and could easily watch it again, although (perversely) now I miss Sigourney Weaver and wonder what a team she and Fassbinder could have been if placed together. I started 2018 with "Alien" saga and it was unexpected thrill. 

"Wakefield" by Robin Swicord (2016)

The very first movie I saw in 2018 was this interesting drama - nothing ever happens without reason, so the movie came my way just when I was seriously pondering my professional life: how easy would it be to just step away from it all and simply leave stress to others. It is also highly unusual movie in a way that it completely avoids almost everything that recent cinematography focuses on - special effects, car crashes, explosions and crowd pleasing brutality - this is sophisticated, serious work of art where the only dialogue we hear comes from the main character cackling and laughing to himself. Its also tour de force of acting, marvellous work by Bryan Cranston.

Howard Wakefield (Cranston) is a successful businessman who at the beginning of the movie walks trough Grand Central Station like God, checking his cellphone and making decisions but during one particular Twilight zone evening, just as he arrives home from work, something distracts him and he ends in a empty house opposite of his own. From the attic window he peeks at his own family, lights, wife, children and life he had - in a spur of the moment, Wakefield decides not to return home - perhaps it was just a cruel joke played on his wife (later we find out that marriage was loveless) that he meant to finish in the morning, but when dawn arrives, he decides he is not going back. In fact, he is not even going back to work, to Hell with it all. From now on, Wakefield lives like hermit in the attic of the empty house, laughs at the people he sees from the window and gleefully spies on his family - who, to his biggest surprise, after initial shock seems to get on just fine (in fact, they are far happier without him). With time life simply goes on, with family next door enjoying sudden freedom, while Wakefield himself realises he might have been to oppressive and tyrannical with them - as for himself, he is completely free from the previous life, credit cards, cellphones and business - now he metamorphoses into trash man, unkempt and bearded, who roams the garbage cans for food. I found it absolutely fascinating and highly unusual work of cinema, quite unforgettable.

Welcome 2018

Although, realistically speaking, we understand that one night between December and January shouldn't really make any difference at all - the sun rises and sets just as always - like little children we always keep a hope that this will be beginning of something else, better and happier. For a change, this year I decided not to burden myself with any decisions, resolutions or must-do things whatsoever. Que sera, sera. If anything, there are certain health issues that might be corrected (if not completely erased, ageing is inevitable after all) and instead of torturing myself with self-imposed tasks, I am simply grateful for being still here, still around to enjoy the wonder of the sunny mornings and affections of handful close friends, nothing else matters.

Since nicest thing that happened so far in 2018 was this beautiful message from a Chinese cookie, I decided to officially start the New Year on this blog with a poem that describes my feelings. It is actually just a part of much longer poem by Helen Hunt Jackson so if you are inclined, you can find more about her. For some reason poetry was always kind of neglected on this blog so here's to the new, fresh start:

"Always a night from old to new!

Night and the healing balm of sleep!

Each morn is New Year’s morn come true,

Morn of a festival to keep.

All nights are sacred nights to make

Confession and resolve and prayer;

All days are sacred days to wake

New gladness in the sunny air.

Only a night from old to new;

Only a sleep from night to morn.

The new is but the old come true;

Each sunrise sees a new year born."

My 2017 in books and movies

Before I start with the rest, the most important thing happened in 2017 is arrival of little Ema who is a daughter of dear friends, so it feels like new face in family. Even the parents are very young (they could be my kids) so I am turning into eccentric uncle and cherish the role. There are more babies to come next year and its all very exciting, it makes me very happy.

Books:

I started with Diana Gabaldon's sequel to "Outlander" ("Dragonfly in Amber") which was fine and at later point I even finished third part ("Voyager") but somehow I got slightly tired of Jamie and Claire, perhaps I should re-visit them again coming January. I read several books during my winter vacations, best of them being biography of Lena Horne (by James Gavin) and I liked quirky, feel-good novel about hundred year old man by Jonas Jonasson. The initial discovery of the year was Alice Hoffman whose "The Museum of Extraordinary Things" impressed me so much that I immediately continued with four more novels of her, I don't remember when this happened last time. Someone suggested old historical best seller set in medieval Japan by James Clavell so I felt intrigued to re-visit "Shōgun" which was so brilliant that I dived into serious research about history of Japan. (I didn't want to continue with Clavell immediately, because I wanted to savour my impression). Of all the classics on my list, I read exactly one and it was relatively harmless "Gulliver's Travels" by Jonathan Swift so I am not completely convinced into logic of forcing myself into reading classics - I also started "Gil Blas" and had to postpone it, because it just bothered me too much. I enjoyed reading about history much more - Alison Weir and two books by Peter Ackroyd gave me invaluable glance at history of England, while The Flight of the Romanovs" was refreshing look at the destiny of other Romanovs besides crowned heads, during WW1. However, the crown of 2017 goes to Shirley Jackson whose novels "We Have Always Lived in the Castle" and "The Haunting of Hill House" were such masterpieces of psychological horror that my head was buzzing from excitement - I read five more horror novels and none of them came close to Jackson, however H.P.Lovecraft was another discovery so I could easily say this was the year when I discovered there is more to horror than Stephen King and Anne Rice. Knowing my weakness for show biz biographies, I kept it all carefully under control and besides Lena Horne, I read only another autobiography by Judy Collins and interesting Tammy Wynette bio by Jimmy McDonough but towards the end of the year couldn't resist delicious novel written by Joan Collins. (I could actually tell that I crave for a little celebrity biographies right now) Besides Graham Hancock, another writer whom I re-visited was Pearl Buck whom I enjoyed very much.

Conclusion: I did fairly well with reading - rediscovered some old favourites and found several new ones - but generally speaking this was year of Shirley Jackson and I was the most immersed in horror genre, once I gulped her novels. It seems like I will finish the year with H.P.Lovecraft so this will be my year of horror. Not completely sure is it worth to torture myself with self-imposed task of reading the classics, because frankly I am not enjoying them as much as I expected, finished only one in the whole year, perhaps I have to be in the different frame of mind.

Movies:

As I have already confessed, nothing thrills me as much as old black & white movies, although from time to time I share movie evening with friends and for the sake of them watch occasional current movie. So in 2017 I saw "Eye in the Sky", "Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them", "Allied", "Alone in Berlin", "Jane Eyre", "Atomic Blonde", "It", "Crooked House", "What Happened to Monday", "Lights Out", "Green Room" and "The Limehouse Golem" (amongst others, most of the current titles I don't remember later) but what I really, really enjoyed and where my heart is would be black & white classics: this is what I watch when I'm alone with myself and what inspires my dreams. I started the year with finale of Mr.Wong movies ("Doomed to Die") and immediately continued with another fictional Asian detective Charlie Chan but for some reason this didn't thrill me as much so I focused on classic B horror movies instead: "House on Haunted Hill", "The Bat" and "The Last Man on Earth" acquainted me with Vincent Price and I will see him several more times in various movies towards the end of the year. "The Day of the Triffids" and "The Ωmega Man" were watched in this same period. When after a long period of non-watching I finally returned to movies, the first one I checked was old black & white 1939 classic "The Women" which was so delightful that I even endured 2008. remake and found another Joan Crawford extravaganza titled "Autumn leaves" which would be perfectly fine if not, paradoxically, for its main female star. The second vacation of the year gave me the most enjoyable period of watching black & white classics, so this is when I saw "A Royal Scandal", "All This, and Heaven Too", "Behind Green Lights", "Dick Tracy", "Great Expectations" and "His Girl Friday"  but I have also enjoyed comical genius of Mel Brooks in "Young Frankenstein" and horror classic "The Pit and the Pendulum". The best of all were two silent masterpieces by F.W.Murnau - his "Faust"  and "Sunrise" might easily be two best movies I have seen in the whole year. Towards the end of 2017 I indulged myself in some more black & white dreams: I have seen 1943. version of "Jane Eyre", "Bluebeard", "Brief Encounter", "Dragonwyck", "Ladies in Retirement", "Leave Her to Heaven" and "The Song of Bernadette", even switched on TV just for "The Boys from Brazil" and ended the year with "Blanche Fury", "Letter from an Unknown Woman", "The Man in Grey" and two Basil Rathbone 1940s masterpieces "The Hound of the Baskervilles" and "The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes". 

Conclusion: As I have stopped visiting the cinema, my enjoyment of the movies is now focused on either what I watch with friends & neighbours (current titles, often forgotten soon afterwards) or old classics that I lovingly collect and than watch when the right time arrives. Because of my work, where during sailings I usually prefer to read before falling asleep (instead of trying to stay awake long into night with a movie), it seems I am watching movies in bursts during my vacations, this is usually the time when my blog is at its busiest as well. I have truly enjoyed black & white classics this year but the best of all were two 1920s silent masterpieces by Murnau, whom I knew and loved from before, its just strange that it took me so long to explore more of his work. Obviously there have to be the right moment for everything.

Josipa Lisac celebrates

To my biggest joy, I discovered that my all-time favourite singer, Croatian über diva Josipa Lisac gets a lot of media attention recently because of highly publicised celebrations of 50 years in the business. Earlier this year I noticed with alarm that she is getting a little bit long in the tooth (she is approaching 70th birthday slowly) and wondered what does it mean for her personally, being such veteran in the show business focused on young people but I shouldn't have worried because Croatians apparently love her more than ever these days and it seems that finally majority of people accepted what I knew from the start - that she is out national treasure. 

Several things happened almost simultaneously: Lisac was guest performer in another high-voltage collaboration, this time with cutting edge band "Chui" which was surprisingly strong song indeed. It actually reminded me on her early 1970s collaborations with group "Mi", that's how good it was. Than she got award for being on a scene for half a century from Croatian Musicians Union (HGU) and this comes from her colleagues. Recently she released another compilation, this time long-awaited double CD thematically divided between her various collaborations with almost entire Croatian pop scene and ethno recordings recorded trough the years. (I have almost all of them, of course and could add several more numbers to the list) but to me this feels more like a tiding up the archives than a new project. If you ask me, my dream project would have been luxurious CD box with completely unheard music, like her recordings from the choir days or demo tracks for rock operas composed by her late husband Karlo Metikoš (she sang on demo tracks) or live recordings from USA, these all exist and just wait for someone to wrap them up in a proper cellophane. (I have actually dreamed once that there is whole unreleased LP from mid-1970s somewhere in the vaults and I never heard of it - you can imagine my confusion when I woke up and realised it was only a dream) Simultaneously with this new compilation, Lisac guested in another high-profile cameo appearance, this time with rock band "Hladno pivo" and to top it all, she sold out Zagreb's concert hall "Vatroslav Lisinski" without any posters or promotion (except on the web) in only 48 hours for two nights in a row.

The interest for one & only homegrown rock icon was so huge that surely several different generations filled the seats and naturally Lisac did not disappoint when it came to extravagant stage outfits and supersonic vocals. I was on another part of the world but present in spirit. 

"The Girl on the Train" by Paula Hawkins

Here is a rarity - the book I read without a joy or pleasure. 

Generally I always enjoy reading and in many cases love to immerse myself in a completely fictional world - one of the best things I have read this year was "Shōgun" and it kept me completely spellbound and fascinated with Japan for quite some time. But I do need to find something likable in the book, be it the evocative descriptions, characters, the writing style or simply gripping story. I knew Paula Hawkins as author of "Gone girl" which I haven't read but saw a very interesting movie, this particular novel was all over the place few years ago and somehow I got impression it must be very successful and probably interesting crime thriller since I see it in every single bookshop around the world. Successful yes, but not for me.

"The Girl on the Train" is psychological thriller told from perspectives of three different women who seemingly have no connection at first glance. Later when the story unfolds, it turns out they are very connected indeed. Since I read in the evenings, after work (which means after midnight) and most of the time I am just relaxing before falling asleep, no wonder something went terribly wrong with my concentration - at certain point I noticed that something is wrong with names and characters, like perspective is all confused but I assumed the authoress is playing with our attention. Halfway trough the book I came to realise (to my biggest annoyance) that every chapter has plainly stated name of three different women, it wasn't one person at all. Honestly, I have no idea how I missed that point, perhaps I must have been very tired. Hawkins weaves her story skilfully and that's all OK but unfortunately I just couldn't warm up to a woman she chose as main protagonist - Rachel is a desperate (and depressing) alcoholic who just can't get over the divorce and chapter in and out she rolls around drunken, not remembering what happened previous night and wondering where this bruises and blood came from. Since Rachel is very important part of the story, its not possible to skip her chapters and I became painfully aware that I am saddled with extremely unlikeable main protagonist all trough the book. This was not a pleasure at all. Its Hawkins book and she did what she probably thought it was good idea but I just didn't care for someone so obviously self-destructive, morose and beyond help. Basically Rachel roams around pretending she goes to work but in fact she was fired for drunkenness months ago, has no money and no perspective, thinks only about her ex-husband and how she will get sloshed secretly in the evening. Her friend/landlady patiently suffers trough Rachel's vomiting and bleeding all over the place. There is a fairly interesting plot but Rachel annoyed me so much that I sighed with relief when I finally finished the book. 

So far, from the top of my head, this was the third time I ploughed trough the book with extremely unlikeable main protagonist - Margaret Atwood's "The Blind Assassin" and Umberto Eco's "The Prague Cemetery" also had one, but they are completely different writers so at least there was stylistic beauty to them. Hawkins is a crime writer with one eye turned towards Hollywood so in my mind this is no better than paperback pulp fiction + cases of missing wives gets repetitive + I am already allergic on stories with subjects like this, seriously if I ever see or read another crime story with police involvement and CSI digging under the victim's nails I will just give up, I don't find it entertaining or interesting or anything worth my time. If I am on deserted island, I would not touch another book by Paula Hawkins.

This one seriously annoyed me.

"Star quality" by Joan Collins

And now, something completely different!

As a teenager I read some novels by Jackie Collins - I clearly remember enjoying her "Hollywood Wives" instead than obligatory school reading at the time - it reminded me on similar gripping work by Harold Robbins and Sidney Sheldon but even than I could tell this was a guilty pleasure, pulp fiction served under different name and created with possibility to make movies out of them. Sweet, old Barbara Cartland was allegedly against this kind of smutty books but Jackie continued to pile them up with greatest success and rode New York Times Best selling lists for decades, writing about "rich and famous" while several of her novels served as inspiration for movies (older sister Joan played in two of them) and TV series. Curiously, I have never seriously continued with Jackie's novels - although they were fast-reading stuff and very entertaining - after one or two I probably had idea what to expect. Mind you, I can't tell Robbins or Sheldon from each other as well. Not that I am against this type of best-sellers, they can be very entertaining if you are in the right frame of mind, its just that usually I would prefer something more substantial.

And now, the novel written by her massively popular, older sister, actress (and official Dame) Joan Collins - whom, like the rest of the world I know from "Dynasty" but was not aware that she also dabbled in writing, besides autobiography and beauty tips book. Although I have tons of books in my virtual library, combing trough collection became a drudge so I rather peek at what's on the ship's library shelf and voilà, this is how I found out about this one.

"Star quality" is extremely easy read, you can finish it in two days - no wonder somebody left it around here, because its a perfect escapism and vacation read. Its actually much better than I expected. Nothing deep or serious, in fact, the novel is deliciously fluffy and superficial - concerned more with description of protagonist's costumes, hair and make up than psychological analysis or motivations - but Collins seems to know what people expect from her and she also know the world she describes: its a century of showbiz, from vaudeville to Broadway, Hollywood and beyond, naturally we end up in 1980s big time TV series. Since it covers the four generations of women in one family, Collins treats the readers with walk trough the century - the novel starts in 1917 and as it progresses, it describes fashions, stars, celebrities and ever-changing morals (at one point, ladies agree that each of them was considered very scandalous for their times). It's not the greatest novel ever written, nor it tries to be - both Collins sisters understood that fame itself sells products and cleverly used theirs for launching successful careers. There is always a huge audience soaking in everything about lives of "rich and famous"  - obviously even myself I couldn't resist to have a peek and enjoyed it as escapism. But can she write?  Yes, she surely can - there is something about her vitality that I always found very endearing and even the fact that novel feels touchingly earnest at times don't diminish the fact that I gulped it instantly, while celebrated classics usually demand far more attention and headache. I have one of them at the back-burner for months now, because it bothered me so much, while this frou-frou I finished without noticing. 

"Tudors: The History of England Volume II" by Peter Ackroyd

Sometime previously this year - during the summer, to be precise - I purposely searched Peter Ackroyd as antidote for my than-current obsession with horror genre. I enjoyed horror very much to the point, but honestly there was nobody around who could even kiss the hem of Shirley Jackson's garment so I needed a break and decided to check out this celebrated writer whose body of work actually appealed to me greatly, since I am a bit of history nerd. First I listened the BBC radio episode of Desert Island Disc with Ackroyd as a celebrity guest and liked what I heard, than read the first title of his "History of England" ("Foundation: The History of England from Its Earliest Beginnings to the Tudors") which was actually surprisingly delightful - Ackroyd managed to somehow clear up the mess of centuries, kings, emperors and long forgotten names, making it all slightly easier to understand (if not necessary remember) and I promised myself to continue with this saga eventually. Well, the time has come - I had very unusual month-long absence from reading (first time in my life, as much as I can remember) where I just didn't have interest in books at all and now since I am comfortably nested at work again, reading before sleep is again my favourite pastime. Naturally I had to face the consequences of hoarding e-books in my virtual library so it feels like Ali Baba's cave, instead of choosing for days between 1597 titles, I simply picked up sequel to Ackroyd's "Foundation" and this one concerns exclusively Tudors - it continues exactly as the previous volume ended, with death of Henry VII and now the first chapter deals with coronation of his seventeen year old son Henry VIII who will eventually become history's most famous Bluebeard.

So far it has been the most enjoyable surprise, because tons of books I have read previously were too fascinated with Henry VIII and his numerous wives - this book actually takes a wider perspective and deals with what was going on during his reign - religious reformations, political machinations, uprisings, wars and such. Wives are mentioned but they are not necessary the main focus, in fact they are in the background just as they were in the real life ("The wives of kings were generally considered to be little more than brood mares." notes Ackroyd, matter of factly) With Henry's passing, his underage son (who sounds dangerously obsessed with religion and could have been grand inquisitor in making) Edward VI was manipulated around by various powerful dukes from the Regency Council and perhaps its better that he died as young as he was, because the friction between him and council would surely lead to a civil war. Right now I am exactly at the point when his long-suffering half-sister snatches the crown from would-be-usurpers, but she is still not known as "Bloody Mary" as posterity would remember her later. Elizabeth is somewhere around but not in the centre yet, so far only Thomas Seymour shows great interest in her buttocks - which would lead to his beheading (signed by his brother!) and Elizabeth herself will get so close to danger that the traumatic experience will forever make her increasingly cautious when it comes to any kind of relationships. Tudors were naturally extremely well covered in popular culture so yes, I am familiar with many of the stories here but Ackroyd still weaves very interesting story, gripping and fresh enough to enjoy like we hear it for the first time. 

I see Asia

Dear reader, I have actually stepped my foot in Asia for the first time - not just passing trough some international airport on my way elsewhere, or accidentally from one ship to another but actually, genuinely arriving in Asia. Its quite a big deal because I have been travelling for work more than fourteen years now and the routine kind of killed my excitement, I really had enough of same old Caribbean, Mediterranean and Baltic itinerary year in & out, even occasional new place like Iceland soon becomes old news so yes I was really thrilled upon hearing that this time I will sail somewhere else.

First, my arrival in Singapore was extremely traumatic. 

Not because the length of the flight (fourteen hours) since I was prepared for this, but because local immigration grilled me for another four hours for not having some very extra special documents that no other country in the world demands except Singapore - not having them, I actually faced deportation, which already happened to some of my colleagues. After several tense hours and desperate attempts to contact officials in Miami, I was eventually let go trough the border but my documents were still not in order and I was grilled again upon embarkation on the ship. On top of it all, this ship just finished so called "dry dock" so the crew area was in total disorder - apparently it takes some time to get everything working out properly as it should - so not only there was a dust, dirt and pieces of carpets & furniture everywhere but my own accommodation was not ready: the cabin door could not be closed, half of a carpet was missing, there were no bedclothes, no pillows, no air condition, no towels, no wc paper, shower not working, sink blocked... and Jet Lag just hit me so I had to lie down and snore on the bed the way it is, sheets or no sheets. Surely I reported all of this but guests cabins are priority and we will deal with crew later. On the fifth day the captain came to inspect crew cabins and when he saw my blocked sink, he kneeled down himself and used his Swiss army knife to fix the darn thing. 

My very first port was place called Laem Chabang in Thailand. Alas, dear reader, I was on port manning duty (don't ask - one of the extra duties everybody on board has on top of regular job) so couldn't go anywhere further than just top of the ship, from where I took this pictures of very picturesque and magical industrial terminal that stretches for miles around - in fact, there is a shuttle bus service to Pattaya and Bangkok but it takes hour or two if you are interested. What I expected previously (experience talking) proved to be true, some of our ports are simply extremely far away from any civilisation so there is absolutely no way one can simply walk out into town, shuttle buses and taxies are necessary. Even if I could go out, I probably wouldn't because at this point I have $15 and shuttle bus was $10 so why bother with driving two hours somewhere just to have tea and drive back again. Unfortunately both me and my roommate were on the same duty, so we were both dying from boredom in that stuffy cabin with no air condition. 

I asked all of my colleagues about the next port in Cambodia but they all appear completely uninterested. 

"I don't know", "I was sleeping", "It was raining", "Nothing to see there". Listening to them one wonders why on Earth these people applied for this job where travelling takes them around the world, if all they do is sleeping and drinking in crew bar. I was also a bit shaken with official message from the ship - warning for the crew to keep in groups and not to go out alone because of the noticeable crime rate in town - but decided that I need to poke my nose outside or else I will become too grumpy, locked inside all the time too long. Even the official Wikipedia page about Sihanoukville is not very flattering, warning about chaotic traffic ("Drivers of motorbikes often do not wear helmets, drive indiscriminately on any side of the street and it is common to see motorbikes with more than two passengers or vehicles driven by children and under aged people. Traffic lights are often ignored.") and lots of crime everywhere. I bravely took the shuttle bus along with several other cruise guests and we all laughed when we met on the same bus in roughly fifteen minutes - all we saw was ugly and smelly local big market, very exotic looking but all sorts of non-appealing food was mixed with inexpensive items like luggage and clothes, the odours were distinctively nauseating and of course beggars were pulling my sleeves at every step. The city looked ugly and desperately poor, there was no sidewalks - they are all taken with local "businesses" or should I call them what precisely they are, cheap stalls - which forces you to walk directly on the road, behind the cars and motorbikes. I perfectly understand that one can't expect same standards all over the world but this was not appealing - I saw it and quickly assessed the situation, decided this is not for me and went back to the shuttle bus. I really wonder will I enjoy my Asian adventure at all, because I am creature of comfort and all this dirt, dust and poverty don't appeal to me at all. As for the celebrated beaches, I am not interested in beaches or suntanning so it all sounds relatively depressing. Even the food I have seen was all deep fried and unhealthy looking - having a serious conversation with my doctor I changed my diet completely so the only food I am eating these days is fruits and vegetables - all this oil dripping from everywhere was just alarming. Strangely, people seems to eat absolutely everywhere on this heat and out of any old plastic container. I have no idea why in the world would any tourist want to visit such a dirt-poor place like Cambodia if not for bragging later. You might as well go to Albania instead, at least its in Europe. 

Next port was Ho Chi Minh City in Vietnam - at least this is how it was advertised - unfortunately we are nowhere near that place, in fact we are docked in a port from which you need to travel two hours to town. There is absolutely nothing outside of the ship, no sign of life except hawking cab drivers who demand $ 85 for a drive so forget about Ho Chi Minh City, not only that I don't have money for that kind of excursions but after driving around all day long I still need to work in the evening & there's nothing that I need so desperately to drive four hours. As much as I heard, tomorrow is another place in Vietnam (Nha Trang) where its possible to simply walk out from the ship to town, so I will skip Ho Chi Minh City indefinitely. 

Conclusion: 

It might be too early to say, after all its been only a week but for now I can tell that this is far from what I expected. Where in Europe and in Caribbean ships were docked in spots relatively near to cities (so it was possible to just walk outside, no matter how ugly these docks and terminals usually are) here in Asia for some reason shipyards are extremely far from any human habitations, I mean, there's nothing and nobody around unless you are ready to empty the wallet every day for a cab ride or tourist excursion somewhere. In my first week I have seen only one place (which makes what, four times going out in a month?) and it was such a dirty, smelly shit hole that I thoroughly scrubbed my sandals upon return to my cabin. If this is how it's going to be, than I'm not looking forward to the next six months. At all.