Extra Ordinary Villains Join ‘One Piece’ Season 2: Prepare for a Shocking Adventure

A Misplaced Narrative:

The film adaptation of Delia Owens’ best-selling novel attempts to weave a coming-of-age story with a murder mystery. However, the execution feels disjointed, prioritizing Kya’s upbringing over the court proceedings. This shift in focus dilutes the impact of the central mystery and leaves the viewer questioning the film’s true intent.

Kya, the protagonist, is described in the novel as a “wild child,” a product of her isolated upbringing. Yet, the film presents a sanitized version of her character, one who is clean, polite, and surprisingly articulate. This contradictory portrayal undermines the complexity of her character and the novel’s exploration of the wilderness’s impact on a human soul.

The Book vs. the Screen:

The film’s narrative structure is disjointed and jumps haphazardly between Kya’s childhood and her present-day trial, creating a jarring narrative flow. This disjointed structure hinders the development of both the mystery and Kya’s character arc.

Kya’s sudden and rapid acquisition of knowledge, particularly in the realm of science, feels unrealistic and undermines the challenges she should face as a self-taught individual. Her dependence on male figures (Tate and Chase) for guidance further reinforces problematic gender dynamics.

Uneven Pace and Unrealistic Connections:

The film fails to fully capitalize on the evocative setting of the North Carolina marsh, which plays a crucial role in the novel. The visuals are beautiful, but the film doesn’t delve deep enough into the marsh’s significance as Kya’s sanctuary, her classroom, and a reflection of her inner world.

The film, however, glosses over these complexities, opting for a more simplistic and sentimental approach that ultimately weakens its impact.

Missed Opportunities for Depth:

The novel touches upon themes of prejudice, isolation, and the exploitation of the vulnerable. The film, however, fails to fully explore these complexities, instead relying on a more superficial and sentimental approach.

The film’s portrayal of Kya’s relationships with the men in her life is also problematic, perpetuating harmful gender stereotypes and reinforcing the idea that women are in need of rescue.

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Extra Ordinary:

Mike Ahern and Enda Loughman’s feature directorial debut, Extra Ordinary, is a brilliant mix of dry wit, unforgettable dialogue, heart, and ectoplasm, resulting in an endlessly charming and highly re-watchable “ghost-busting” romp.

Rose Dooley (Maeve Higgins) is a driving instructor who has supernatural abilities, including the power to exorcise wayward spirits. She’s able to ignore a multitude of requests from locals struggling with haunted trash cans and gravel, but when a one-hit wonder named Christian Winter (Will Forte) attempts to make a deal with the devil in exchange for more hit music, threatening innocent lives in the process, Rose is finally encouraged to re-embrace her powers.

The film’s tone is playful and light-hearted, with a focus on the absurdity of the supernatural events that unfold. The special effects are also well-executed, adding to the film’s sense of wonder and magic.

A Cult Classic in the Making:

Extra Ordinary is an excellent example of a movie making the most of every penny in the budget from a technical perspective. It’s packed with stylish and very well-executed scene transitions contributing to the swift pace of the film, a significant amount of the imagery is designed to enhance comedic beats, and the effects are spot on as well.

The film’s score is also noteworthy, adding to the overall sense of whimsy and wonder. The cinematography is beautiful, capturing the Irish landscapes and the film’s supernatural elements with ease.

Elder Sign:

Elder Sign can best be described as Arkham Horror’s little brother. I like Arkham Horror, I like it a lot, but Elder Sign isn’t really that game. The premise is similar, squiggly god-like alien is trying to break apart reality and spew forth into the world, as a group of plucky investigators you have to seal the holes in reality and stop said squiggly monster.

The difference here is that in Elder Sign the events all take place in a museum and to complete tasks and gain the elder signs to complete the game you have to succeed in a series of dice-matching challenges.

A Game of Roll and Write:

Elder Sign takes a lot of elements from Arkham Horror and players will identify the characters, locations, and ancient ones. The problem is it’s not really a light enough game to act as a substitute to Arkham Horror.

The first game I played took around two hours. Now I know Arkham Horror can run into six-hour slogs, but I’ve completed the game in three hours so the question has to be asked would you rather spend the extra hour or two playing Arkham.

A Game of Roll and Write:

Whereas Elder Sign is very serious in tone King of Tokyo couldn’t be sillier. Each player takes the role of a giant monster, or robot, or even a bunny piloted mecha and vies to be King of Tokyo by either killing the other players or claiming enough victory points.

Players do this by rolling a pool of dice that can be used for victory points, healing, damage to their opponents or energy that can be used to buy power-ups. Only one player can occupy Tokyo at a time and that player cannot heal but damages every other player and in turn the other players can only attack the current occupant of Tokyo.

A Game of Roll and Write:

King of Tokyo is quick and enormous fun. The game does have the dreaded player elimination but when the game only takes 20 minutes to play that’s not really a problem.

I don’t know how I did this, but I went into Where The Crawdads Sing completely blind. I never read the book, never saw a trailer for the film, didn’t know what it was about… I didn’t even know who starred in it. I had hoped that this would make it fresh and interesting. It didn’t.

Based on the 2018 novel by Delia Owens, the film stars Daisy Edgar-Jones as Kya, a young woman who is not-so-affectionately known as Marsh Girl around town. Set in 1969 in North Carolina, a young man is found dead in the marsh, beneath a fire tower, with injuries that suggest it is murder, and the first – and only – suspect is the notorious Marsh Girl.

A Misplaced Narrative:

The story is less courtroom drama and much more coming-of-age story. In an inelegant fashion, when presented with her court-appointed attorney, Kya immediately opens up about her home life, and we flash back to 1953, which shows Kya (Jojo Regina) as a child, growing up in the marsh with a loving mother, several siblings, and an abusive father.

One by one, they all leave her, and she is eventually left to figure out life on her own. The story continues to cut between the courtroom and Kya’s life in the marsh. There doesn’t seem to be any rhyme or reason to this: there will be a few scenes in the court, then lengthy scenes showing Kya’s life before the court case.

A Misplaced Narrative:

Kya, as a character, doesn’t fit with what you are expected to believe she is supposed to be. After speaking with a friend who read the book, I learned that Kya was supposed to be a “wild child;” borderline feral, which is completely understandable from someone who raised herself, completely alone, out in the marsh, with no electricity or running water.

And yet, Kya held herself as a fairly calm, reasonable child. She is always clean, her hair is always brushed, and her clothing is well-kempt. She runs around without shoes for the entire movie but her feet aren’t muddy. Ever.

As she “grows up” and is portrayed by Edgar-Jones, the problems become different. Her mother allegedly taught her children (or, at least, Kya) how to speak properly, and that “ain’t” isn’t a real word. And yet, her mother never taught her to read or write.

When Kya is a teenager and meets up with a local boy, Tate (Taylor John Smith), who was friends with her brother, he teaches her to read and write. In a matter of weeks, he has taught her the finer points of molecular biology. Not only was this wholly unrealistic, there was something upsetting in the idea that it required a boy to come in and “fix” the girl.

Granted, Kya eventually uses her own knowledge of nature and drawing skills to eventually become a published naturalist – but this doesn’t happen without Tate’s suggestion, and a list of publishers from him.

A Misplaced Narrative:

Equally as upsetting was the second boy who comes into Kya’s life, Chase (Harris Dickinson), the one whom Kya is on trial for murdering. He is wealthy and one gets the feeling that he is just taking a walk on the wild side when he starts dating Kya.

Kya doesn’t see that she is being used by Chase, and that makes for some very uneasy scenes. Where the Crawdads Sing is a weirdly uncomfortable