"FLIGHT" (2012) Review

"FLIGHT" (2012) Review

For years, I thought that director Robert Zemeckis had lost his way. I thought the Academy Award he had won for the 1994 movie, "FOREST GUMP" had transformed a talented and slightly eccentric filmmaker into a pretentious and boring one.

I realize this is a cruel thing to say. Robert Zemeckis had been one of my favorite directors ever since I first saw his 1978 comedy, "I WANNA HOLD YOUR HAND" on television. But after he won a Best Director Oscar for "GUMP", he seemed to have lost his touch. I am not saying that movies like "CONTACT", "WHAT LIES BENEATH" and "CASTAWAY" were terrible. For me, they seemed to lack that Zemeckis touch that had made his previous movies magical for me. But after seeing the director's latest endeavor, "FLIGHT", I believe there is a good chance that he may have regained his mojo.

"FLIGHT" tells the story of an airline pilot, who manages to prevent a flight between Orlando and Atlanta from perishing in a fatal crash. Only six people - four passengers and two stewardesses - die in the crash. An investigation of the crash reveals not only malfunctions within the plane, but also evidence of alcohol use by the crew, especially by the pilot, one Whip Whitaker. Whip had used cocaine before the flight to keep himself alert and imbibed alcohol during the flight. The airline pilots' union hires Hugh Lang to defend Whip and prevent the latter from serving time in prison for drug and manslaughter charges. Lang claims he can get the National Transportation Safety Board (NTSB)'s toxicology report declared inadmissible in court and focus the investigation on the plane's malfunctions. But both he and Whip's friend and union representative, Charlie Anderson, gradually become aware that Whip is a hardcore alcoholic and drug abuser. And his addictions might stand in the way of any successful defense on Lang's part.

I am not stating that "FLIGHT" is perfect. It had one or two aspects I found questionable. One, I thought a movie that is basically a character study of an alcoholic airline pilot possibly facing the consequences of his substance abuse should not have a running time of 139 minutes. Yes, I believe it was at least fifteen to twenty minutes too long. And one of the scenes I would have trimmed featured a cameo appearance by the very talented James Badge Dale. Do not get me wrong. I thought that Badge Dale gave a superb performance as a cancer patient that Whip Whitaker and future girlfriend/fellow addict Nicole Maggen met in a hospital hallway. Unless Badge Dale had said something that related to the story (and if he did, someone please enlighten me), I saw no reason to include his character into the story. My other problem has a good deal to do with a repentant Whip recounting his alcoholism and drug use to a counseling group. Honestly, it felt as if Bob Zemeckis and screenwriter John Gatins injected a segment from an episode of the "ABC AFTERSCHOOL" television series . . . and that Whip was talking to a group of high school students.

Despite these flaws, I must admit that "FLIGHT" really impressed me. The last time I saw a movie or television series about an alcoholic was CBS's "KNOT'S LANDING" in which the Gary Ewing character (portrayed by actor Ted Shackleford) experienced his last bout of alcoholism and recovery. It was ugly to watch. Since then, I have made a point of deliberately avoiding movies about alcoholics and drug abusers. At least two family members have died from the consequences of drug abuse. When I sat down in a movie theater to watch "FLIGHT", I never thought that Denzel Washington would be portraying such a hardcore substance abuser. But you know what? I am glad that I saw the movie.

There are many aspects about "FLIGHT" that I truly enjoyed. Thanks to Robert Zemeckis' direction, Don Burgess' cinematography and award worthy editing by Jeremiah O'Driscoll, the movie featured a kick ass plane crash sequence that left me breathless and wired at the same time. It was a beautiful thing to watch and worthy of a series of Academy Awards technical nominations. But more importantly, Gatnis created a superb portrayal of the alcoholic airline pilot that gave plenty of meat for both Zemeckis and actor Denzel Washington. Some of the movie's best moments aside from the actual crash included Whip's future girlfriend, Nicole Maggen, nearly dying from a heroin overdose; Lang and Whip's meeting with the president of the airlines; Whip and Nicole's conflict over his constant drinking; Whip's confrontation with his ex-wife and son; Lang's chewing out Whip about the latter's legal situation; and Whip's failed attempt to resist consuming booze he found in a mini bar in a hotel room. My two favorite scenes featured the attempts of Whip's colorful friend/drug dealer Harling Mays to help him recover from another alcoholic binge before he can testify before a NTSB hearing . . . and the actual hearing itself, which ended with a surprising twist.

The performances for "FLIGHT" were superb. I could not find a bad or mediocre performance from any member of the cast. Not one. I have already pointed out James Badge Dale's excellent performance as a cancer patient that Whip and Nicole briefly met. I was also impressed by Tamara Tunie's stalwart, yet emotional performance as senior flight attendant Margaret Thomason; Brian Geraghty as Whip's religious co-pilot Ken Evans, who lost the use of his legs; Peter Gerety's colorful portrayal of airline owner Avington Carr; and Nadine Velazquez's solid performance as Katerina Marquez, the recently deceased flight attendant who had been Whip's lover.

But the performances that really caught my eye came from Melissa Leo, who gave a brief, yet subtle performance as lead NTSB investigator Ellen Block; John Goodman, who was deliciously larger than life as Whip's friend and drug dealer, Harling Mays; and Bruce Greenwood's quiet, yet emotional portrayal of Whip's much put upon friend, Charlie Anderson. Don Cheadle (who last worked with Washington in the 1995 movie, "DEVIL IN THE BLUE DRESS") gave a superb performance, while acting as more or less the backbone of the movie as Whip's uber talented attorney, Hugh Lang. Kelly Reilly finally caught the eyes of critics in her excellent portrayal of recovering drug addict, Nicole Maggen, who ends up falling for Whip.

But the man of the hour was Denzel Washington. Ever since winning his second Academy Award, ten or eleven years ago, he has given a series of solid or excellent performances in movies that were either successful or not. But it was plain to me that his performance as alcoholic Whip Whitaker was one of his very best in years. Washington was always at his best when portraying characters that were complex - with both likeable and dislikeable traits. Only a true performer, in my opinion, is not afraid to tackle such a character. As the last twenty to thirty years of superb performances have shown, Washington has never been afraid to tackle such characters like Whip.

"FLIGHT" may have suffered from a running time that I found too long and an ending that struck me as a little too adolescent for my tastes. But I must admit that it has become for me one of the best movies I have seen this year. As a filmmaker, Robert Zemeckis has returned in top form. And his endeavors were assisted by excellent photography and editing, a top-notch screenplay by John Gatins and first-rate performances from a talented cast led by the always superb Denzel Washington.

"WESTWARD HO!": Part Four - "THE CHISHOLMS" (1979)

Below is Part Four to my article about Hollywood's depiction about the westward migration via wagon trains in 19th century United States. It focuses upon the 1979 CBS miniseries, "THE CHISHOLMS":


"WESTWARD HO!": Part Four - "THE CHISHOLMS" (1979)

I. Introduction

The 1979 television miniseries, "THE CHISHOLMS" began as an adaptation of Evan Hunter's 1976 novel of the same title. It told the story of a Western Virginia family's trek to California in the mid-1840s.

It began in 1843 with the wedding of Hadley and Minerva Hadley's oldest child, Will. Life for the Chisholm family at their Appalachian farm seemed charmed, until the members suffer a series of misfortunes by the early spring of 1844. Will's new wife died after giving birth to a stillborn child. Hadley managed to alienate the local plantation owner, known as "the Squire", after he terrorized the local preacher for using the wrong Bible passage at his daughter-in-law's funeral. And the family lost a valuable piece of land to an antagonistic neighbor, thanks to Hadley's late older brother. Years earlier, the latter had abandoned the neighbor's sister before a wedding could take place, and willed the land to her as compensation. Stuck with land unfit for farming, Hadley decides to move his family to California.

The Chisholms suffer a few more misfortunes during their trek to California. They discover from a Louisville merchant that they had began their westward trek at least a month too late. They made a second mistake by hiring an Illinois man named Lester Hackett to guide them west. The latter fell in love with Hadley and Minerva's older daughter, Bonnie Sue and ended up getting her pregnant before abandoning the family near St. Louis. Will and middle son Gideon left the family to track Lester to Iowa and ended up serving on a prison work gang for a month, for "trespassing" on the farm of Lester's mother. By the time the family reached the western plains, it suffered a major tragedy, which convinced them to end their journey at Fort Laramie, in present-day Wyoming.


II. History vs. Hollywood

Like "CENTENNIAL", "THE CHISHOLMS" managed to be that rare period drama that managed to be historically accurate . . . or at least 95% accurate. In fact, I was only able to find one topic that struck me as historically inaccurate. And it proved to be minor.

When the Chisholms began their journey from western Virginia to California in 1844, they had left their old cabin in mid-spring. After all, they reached Louisville, Kentucky by May 16 or 17. Most wagon parties usually left Independence, Missouri, the jump-off spot for the western trails by that period. Even the infamous Donner Party left western Missouri sometime between May 16 and May 20 (in 1846). At least two people remarked on their late departure - a Louisville merchant and a saloon keeper in Independence. Aside from Minerva and youngest daughter Annabel, the rest of the Chisholms decided to continue the trek west in the hope of encountering more wagons.

Aside from "CENTENNIAL", "THE CHISHOLMS" is the only production I know that covered a wagon journey east of Missouri. Most movies or television productions usually have wagon parties begin their journey in St. Louis or Independence. The Chisholms' journey included a river journey down the Ohio River aboard a craft similar to the flatboat; the crossing of the Big Blue River; and passing famous landmarks such as Scott's Bluff, Courthouse Rock and Chimney Rock.

Just prior to the Chisholms' westward journey, they acquired a larger wagon through barely fair means (which is another story). Surprisingly, the new wagon proved to be a decent-sized farm wagon, suitable for overland trails and not the lumbering Hollywood favorite - the Conestoga. However, the family not only loaded their wagon with essential goods, but also with furnishings that may have proven to become a burden on the animals pulling it - including a grandfather clock. The Chisholms never dumped any of their non-essentials along the trail. However, Will, Gideon and an Objibwe woman named Kewedinok they had met in Missouri did find several furnishings that had been abandoned by previous emigrants along the trail. The Chisholms used mules to pull their wagon across the continent. However, a lively debate on mules vs. oxen sprung up between Will and Lester Hackett. The family's mules also attracted the attention of a small group of young Pawnee braves, when the family traveled alone.

In the 1979 miniseries, the Chisholms' westbound journey only took them as far as Fort Laramie. A brief, yet brutal encounter with the four Pawnee braves and a family tragedy convinced them to remain and settle on land near the fort. The miniseries' depiction of the emigrants' encounters with Native American seemed pretty realistic and balanced - except in regard to one matter. "THE CHISHOLMS" featured at least three violent encounters between family members and Native Americans. Family patriarch Hadley Chisholm brawled with a middle-aged Chickasaw man inside an Illinois tavern, which ended with the latter being nearly choked to death. And there were the four Pawnee braves who attacked the family (traveling alone) in order to take their mules and the women. A scene before the attack featured a rather funny conference between the four braves, in which they argued on whether or not to attack the family. The surviving brave of the attack discovered the Chisholms' presence at Fort Laramie in the last episode, and convinced a few other braves to help him rob the family's cabin.

But not all of the Chisholms' encounters with Native Americans were violent. The miniseries revealed Kewedinok's back story of how she became a widow, her violent encounter with white trappers in Western Missouri and her eventual meeting with Will and Gideon. The rest of the family became acquainted with former Army scout Timothy Oates and his Pawnee wife during the early leg of their journey, west of Independence. They also met two Kansa couples traveling eastward by foot in an encounter that led to some friendly trading. The same Kansa couples were later killed by whites, aside from one survivor who was found by Will, Gideon and Kewedinok.

I have only one major complaint about the miniseries' depiction of Native Americans. Many white characters such as Hadley Chisholm, Timothy Oates, and the Fort Laramie trader Andrew Blake never hesitate to express concern about Native Americans consuming alcohol. Hadley was the first to claim that "Indians had no business drinking whiskey". One could have easily dismissed Hadley's words as prejudice on his part. But other white characters also expressed the necessity of denying Native Americans any alcohol. I will not deny that alcoholism has been a problem for many Native Americans. However, it has also been a problem for other ethnic groups, including white Americans of Anglo-Saxon, Scottish or Irish ancestry. This was certainly the case in 19th century America. For example, at least two-thirds of the U.S. Army's officer corps were believed to be heavy drinkers. However, many white Americans (and perhaps other groups) tend to view certain certain groups - which included German and Irish immigrants, African-Americans and especially Native Americans - as naturally heavy drinkers, due to their own prejudices. The screenwriters could have been easily expressing the prejudices of these 19th century white men. But the gravity of Timothy Oates and Andrew Blake's words seemed to hint that this particular prejudice still existed by the late 1970s, when this miniseries was made.

Like "CENTENNIAL", "THE CHISHOLMS" managed to adhere a lot closer to historical accuracy than the first two productions featured in this series. And like the 1978-79 miniseries, only one topic seemed to be the result of Hollywood fiction, instead of fact. In the case of "THE CHISHOLMS", it failed to overcome the myth of Native Americans' susceptibility to alcoholism. Otherwise, the mixture of historical fact and literary fiction proved to be well-balanced.

"THEY DO IT WITH MIRRORS" (1991) Photo Gallery

Below are images from "THEY DO IT WITH MIRRORS", the 1991 adaptation of Agatha Christie's 1952 novel. The movie starred Joan Hickson as Miss Jane Marple: 

"THEY DO IT WITH MIRRORS" (1991) Photo Gallery

"Strange Bedfellows" [R] - Part 5

"STRANGE BEDFELLOWS"

Part 5

JULY 18, 1969; LONDON, ENGLAND . . . Cole placed a forkful of Beef Wellington into his mouth and chewed. He nearly groaned with pleasure at the combination of the savory meat and flaky dough. "My God!" he exclaimed after swallowing his food. "This must be the best Beef Wellington I've ever tasted. Seriously."

"It's certainly the best I ever had," Christine said with a sigh. "Not even mine is this good. That's why I had hired Ian Terry as the executive chef for this restaurant, in the first place." Cole, along with Christine, Tarkin and Idril were enjoying dinner at a local restaurant in London's West End.

Idril stared at the witch. "You own this restaurant?"

"Yeah," Christine replied. She took a sip of her Cabernet Sauvignon. "This and a few other restaurants and nightclubs around this part of the country. Not much."

Tarkin mumbled, "Not much? I'm only surprised that you don't own the Beatles' recording contracts on top of that."

A smug smile curved Christine's lips. "Not the Beatles, love. Another group." Both Tarkin and Idril stared at her.

Once the three daemons and the witch had finished their meals, they departed the restaurant and headed for Christine's Triple Six Club. Since he was not inclined to display what he felt was his not-so-impressive dance skills, Cole remained in his seat and watched his companions on the dance floor. At one point, he left the table and headed for the men's restroom.

Upon leaving the restroom, he dodged bystanders that crowded the narrow corridor. Someone accidentally shoved him to his right and he found himself inside a half-empty storeroom. And in the middle of the room was a comely blonde, bent over a crate. And right behind her stood Tarkin with his trousers at his ankles, taking her from behind.

Cole decided to leave the couple in peace and quickly returned to his table. Both Christine and Idril had returned. "Where's Tarkin?" Idril asked, as Cole eased into his chair. The half-daemon glanced at the blond witch and noticed the tense expression on her face.

"I don't know," Cole replied. "I didn't see him in the men's room." A heavy silence surrounded the table. "Um . . . would any of you ladies like another drink?"

Idril quickly accepted the offer and asked for a Vodka Martini. After a long pause, Christine asked for a Tom Collins. Cole signaled a waitress and ordered the women's drinks, along with a Gibson for himself. Once the waitress had disappeared, a male customer with shoulder-length hair approached the table and asked Idril for a dance. The demoness seemed reluctant to accept his offer, but eventually joined the man on the dance floor.

More silence followed, as Cole deliberately focused his attention on the dance floor. Christine spoke up. "I reckon I can assume that you saw Tarkin, while you were gone from the table." She gave the half-daemon a direct stare. "I saw him, too. Fucking that girl in one of the storerooms."

Cole shook his head. "Look, I didn't see any . . ."

"If you think I'm jealous, you're wrong," Christine continued. Then she sighed. "To be honest, I'm a bit relieved. Tarkin's . . . allure is not what it used to be. At least for me. I just wish he could have simply ended it between us."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Cole said.

Green eyes glittered provocatively. "Are you? I find that hard to believe."

Cole inhaled sharply, as he felt a slim foot brush against his inner calf. He took a swig of water, longing for the martini he had just ordered. "In that case," he murmured, "I take it all back." He glanced at Idril, who seemed to be enjoying herself with her dance partner. Tarkin remained no where to be seen.

"Prove it," Christine shot back. She gave him a challenging stare. "Tonight. In my flat."

Again, Cole's gaze returned to the dancing Idril. "And what about . . .?"

"I'm ending it tonight, with Tarkin. As for Idril . . . I'm sure that some Belladonna, combined with alcohol, will take care of her for the night," Christine quietly finished.

At that moment, Tarkin returned to the table, looking slightly ruffled. "Sorry I took so long." He glanced around. "Where's Idril?"

"Dancing," Cole quietly replied. Then he met Christine's gaze . . . and blinked.

------------

Another three hours passed before Cole escorted Idril back to her suite at the Rembrandt Hotel in Knightsbridge. After preparing glasses of port for them both, Idril excused herself to change clothes inside the suite's bedroom.

At last! Cole watched his companion disappear into the other room. He then retrieved a small packet of Belladonna that he had received from Christine. She had some stashed inside her office at the nightclub. Cole dumped the Belladonna into Idril's glass of port. She then returned, wearing a sheer red negligee. Cole smiled and handed over her port. "To us," he said, holding up his own glass.

Idril clinked her glass with hers and repeated, "To us." Once the couple had finished their drinks, the demoness slipped into the half-daemon's arms. She planted a light kiss on the edge of Cole's mouth. "Hmmm, tonight's going to be sooo good."

"I hope so," Cole murmured. Then he lowered his mouth upon hers for a deep kiss. The moment their mouths drew apart, Idril's eyes began to flutter. Seconds later, she slumped against Cole's body. He carried her unconscious form into the bedroom and laid her on the bed.

Satisfied over Idril's unconscious state, he shimmered into the corridor, outside Christine's flat and knocked on the door. Seconds later, it swung open and revealed the blond witch wearing a silk blue Chinese robe and nothing else. "Welcome back," she greeted, ushering Cole inside the flat.

"Aren't you worried that your neighbors might see you like that?" Cole asked.

A smile curved Christine's lips. "They're used to me." She closed the door.

Cole glanced around the flat. "Has Tarkin been here?"

"He left about fifteen minutes ago. We had a . . . bit of a scrap." Christine sighed. "Well, not really. I told him that I wanted to end it between us. He resisted at first. Then I told him about that girl I saw him with. And that's when we . . . well, had words. But, we finally agree it was for the best and ended it."

"I'm sorry," Cole murmured in a perfunctory tone, lying through his teeth. "You two had seemed so close."

With a shrug, Christine dismissed the apology. "No need to be. He was a bit fun for a while. But to be honest, I knew it wouldn't last between us. And it was becoming a bit of a fag of getting it in me bum, so to speak." She picked up a glass of martini and handed it to Cole. "Speaking of which . . . what's your favorite position?"

Cole drowned the martini and placed the glass on a nearby Chinese console table. "Well . . . I'll show you," he finally answered. Christine gasped aloud, as the half-daemon drew her into his arms and kissed her roughly on the lips. Not many seconds had passed before he felt the witch's warm tongue slip into his mouth.

The passionate kiss and the feel of Christine's soft body against his excited Cole more than he had ever experienced. Desperate to shed his clothes, he broke away from the witch's warm lips and removed his jacket and turtleneck sweater. Before he could focus upon his trousers, Christine's slender fingers unfastened his belt and zipper. She then lowered both his trousers and boxers to his ankles. Cole removed his shoes and stepped out of both. A loud gasp left Cole's mouth, as the blond witch began to fondle his length.

Desire soon reached volcanic proportions within him. His impatience finally got the best of him and he quickly removed Christine's robe from her body. He then lowered his mouth upon one coral-pink nipple and began to suck hungrily. Almost greedily. Christine threw back her head and moaned.

Desperate for a need for something more than foreplay, the half-daemon shimmered both him and the witch into her bedroom. He sat down on the four-poster bed's edge and drew Christine into his lap. Once more their mouths met in a passionate kiss. Christine raised her body slightly and impaled herself upon him. Groans escaped from their mouths, while their bodies moved together in perfect unison. They caressed each other with eager hands, while their lips remained locked in an embrace. Cole's thrusts grew quicker and harder in his deep desire to reach the very center of her body. Then it finally came. A fierce wave of heat and desire washed over the half-daemon after a few final thrusts on his part led to a crescendo of passion for the couple.

"Oh . . . oh God!" Christine exclaimed heavily, as she slumped against Cole's body. "Oh God, I've never . . ."

Cole grabbed the back of her head and brought her lips to his for another fierce kiss. "Neither have I," he finally murmured. "Funny," he shook his head in disbelief. "For once I'm telling the truth." And he was.

Christine began to nibble on Cole's left earlobe. "You know, I never could understand why you had chosen Whatshername that night. That night when we first met. Why did you? She never struck me as your type. Too insecure."

"As I recall," Cole said between heavy panting, "Tarkin was busy with you, at the moment. And it was easier for me to grab Idril." He gave the witch another deep kiss. "And you're right. She's not my type. And I don't think I'm hers."

More kissing followed. A groan escaped from Cole's mouth, as Christine's tongue flickered across that sensitive spot on the side of his neck. "Hmmmm," the blond witch moaned, "You might be right about that. Someone that insecure would probably go for some middle-aged bloke who usually chase after the young birds. Like that dark-haired chap I once saw Idril with in Nice, last winter. I remember telling your mum about that."

Cole pulled away from Christine and frowned. An odd feeling churned inside his stomach, as the witch's last words echoed in his ears. "What dark-haired man? You told my mother about . . . Describe him?"

"Bugger me! Why are you suddenly so upset?" Suspicion gleamed in Christine's eyes. "Don't tell me that you're jealous?"

The half-daemon immediately replied, "I'm not . . . jealous. Just curious." Christine continued to stare at him. "Look, I have this gut feeling that something's wrong. Could you please describe the man?"

A sigh left Christine's mouth. "When I first met Idril, I thought there was something familiar about her. And when she said that she was in the pictures, I figured that was where I had seen her. I mean . . . I have seen her in the pictures, before. But I soon realized that I've seen her elsewhere. It finally occurred to me that it was in Nice, last winter. At the Hotel Massena."

"Do you remember how this man looked liked?" Cole asked. "You said that he was dark-haired."

Christine continued, "Well . . . he wasn't bad looking, I must say. At least six feet tall or slightly under. He had dark hair - almost the same color as yours, a narrow face, high cheekbones, slim, and dark eyes that looked a bit exotic. He had a small scar on his right temple. And he wore black a lot, which I found rather peculiar for the Riviera. On the whole, he looked like some elegant chap with a flashy, yet expensive mistress in tow. Not the kind of bloke one would forget. Trust me."

The moment Christine had finished her description, one name popped into Cole's mind. Raynor. Idril had been Raynor's lover. There seemed to be no doubt about it. And with Raynor recently married . . . Cole finally understood his mentor's little talk about matrimony. And Idril's surprising appearance in his life, this summer. Son of a bitch!

Looking slightly apprehensive, Christine said, "Oh bugger! I've just mucked up our evening, haven't I?"

Cole stared at the beautiful witch. And smiled. He felt as if someone had removed a heavy burden from his shoulder. "No," he finally answered. No, you didn't. In fact, I think I should be very grateful to you."

"Really?" A wicked gleam lit up Christine's green eyes. She leaned forward and lightly kissed Cole's nose. "Just how grateful are you?"

A smile curved Cole's lips. He grabbed the witch by the waist and pulled her down on the bed. After rolling on top of her, he said, "I'll show you." And he proceeded to do just that.

-------------

JULY 19, 1969; LONDON, ENGLAND . . . A dark blur, followed by bright yellow light greeted Idril's eyes the next morning. She blinked several times and groaned, as she struggled into a sitting position. Once fully awake, the demoness realized that she was in her bedroom. She frowned. But how? The last thing she recalled was being in Belthazor's arms and kissing him. Slowly, she climbed out of bed and made her way toward the suite's living room. She stopped short at the sight of Belthazor sitting in a chair and sipping what looked like orange juice.

"Good morning!" the half-daemon greeted cheerfully. "I hope you slept well." There seemed to be a slight, mocking tone in his words.

Idril shook her head and grumbled, "Too well, I'm afraid." She blinked again and noticed that Belthazor wore a different outfit. "Huh. Did you go back to your place to change clothes?"

Belthazor rose from the chair and placed the empty glass on a nearby table. "Actually, I left the moment you had fallen asleep. Didn't see the need to stick around." For some reason, the half-daemon's offhand tone made Idril feel inconsequential.

"Oh . . . um . . ." Idril glanced around the suite for something to drink. Except for a cabinet filled with booze, she could not find anything else. "Uh, how many times did we . . .?"

A sigh left Belthazor's mouth. "Is it really that important for us to discuss that?"

In Caspiel's name! "Never mind," Idril said. "Forget what I had . . ."

"Actually, we didn't." Belthazor's curt answer took Idril by surprise. "Like I said, you fell asleep." He strode toward one of the windows that overlooked the city. "After I left you, I went over to Christine's flat. Tarkin had left. It seemed he and Christine finally broke up."

Jealousy twisted any last remnants of Idril's heart. "Oh? You were with Christine? Alone? What did you do? Console her?"

Belthazor chuckled. "She didn't need consoling. Trust me." He stared at the panoramic view of London's streets. "However, I did learn something very interesting, last night." The half-daemon stared at Idril. The intensity in his blue eyes made her squirm with discomfort. "You still need a drink? How about some orange juice? I found some in the liquor cabinet."

Idril shook her head. She no longer felt thirsty. Just anxious over what Belthazor had learned. "Maybe later. Water will be fine." She strode toward the liquor cabinet and poured herself a glass of seltzer water. "What . . . um, what did you find out?" She took a sip.

After a brief hesitation, Belthazor coolly replied, "That you and Raynor were lovers. You might still be." Idril nearly choked on her water. "It seems that . . . someone had seen you two together, at the Hotel Massena in Nice, last winter. And I can't help but wonder if this - along with his recent marriage - had anything to do with his sudden interest in my marital state. Or us meeting by 'accident', last month."

Uneasy laughter rose from Idril's mouth. "Really Belthazor! You get the strangest ideas. Who told you that . . .?" Memories of her conversation with Nimue at that warlock's party flashed in the demoness' mind. "In Caspiel's name! You've seen your mother, haven't you? She must have told you about me and . . ." Idril broke off before she reveal anything further.

A wry smile touched Belthazor's lips. "About you and Raynor in Nice? Actually, it was Christine. She was the one who saw you two together. By the way, how long were you Raynor's mistress?"

"It's none of you . . ." Idril paused and took a deep breath. "I have nothing further to say."

Belthazor's smile widened. "It's just as well. You know, you seemed to have a problem with holding your tongue." He gave Idril an appraising stare. "Are you related to Orobas, by any chance? He never could lie, no matter how he tried."

Idril drained the last of her water and placed the empty glass on the cabinet. If only she could make the half-daemon understand her feelings. She whirled around to face him. "No. No, I'm not related to Orobas. And about Raynor and I . . ." Again, she paused. For once she needed to think before she spoke. "Look, I did spend some time in Nice. But that was a long time ago."

"Six months ago, to be exact," Belthazor coolly added. "With Raynor."

"No, not with Raynor," Idril desperately lied. "With another man. A warlock. He may have looked like Raynor . . ."

Belthazor sharply interrupted, "Idril, Raynor was described perfectly. Right down to his scar. I don't like being taken for a fool. Nor do I care being set up to act as some kind of shield for you and Raynor." He gave the young demoness a contemptuous look. "I'll be leaving now. Good luck in finding a new patsy for you and Raynor." He paused momentarily before adding, "By the way, sorry about spiking your drink with Belladonna, last night. I . . . I wanted to be alone . . . with someone else. Good-bye."

"No, wait! Belthazor!" But the half-daemon shimmered out of the hotel suite before Idril could stop him. Feeling abandoned, Idril marched straight to the liquor cabinet and poured a drink. Something a lot stronger than water.


End of Part 5

"LINCOLN" (2012) Photo Gallery

Below are images from the new historical drama, "LINCOLN". Based on Doris Kearns Goodwin's 2005 book, "Team of Rivals: The Political Genius of Abraham Lincoln" and directed by Steven Spielberg, the movie stars Daniel Day-Lewis and Sally Field:


"LINCOLN" (2012) Photo Gallery