"COP OUT" (2010) Review

"COP OUT" (2010) Review

The moment I first saw the trailer for Kevin Smith’s new action comedy, ”COP OUT”, I knew I did not want to see it. The jokes in the trailer struck me as flat. Stars Bruce Willis and Tracy Morgan seemed to lack any screen chemistry whatsoever. But since there were no other new movies out at the time, I went to see it anyway.

”COP OUT” told the story of two New York City Police detectives who found themselves suspended from the force after their efforts to nail a young Mexican immigrant gang banger with ties to a drug lord ends in failure. Police detectives Jimmy Monroe and Paul Hodges are drawn back into the case centered around drug lord Poh Boy inadvertently when Jimmy attempts to raise money for his daughter’s upcoming wedding by selling his father’s rare baseball card. Unfortunately, a petty thief named Dave steals the card and sells it to Poh Boy. The drug lord refuses to give Jimmy back the card, unless the latter and Paul finds a stolen car that contains something valuable for him.

There were aspects of ”COP OUT” that failed to appeal to me. One, Tracy Morgan’s little comedy routine that involved his character using clichéd movie lines to get a suspect to talk left me feeling irritated. As much as I like Sean William Scott (Dave, the petty thief), his role not only struck me as nearly irrelevant – aside from the baseball card theft – but also irritating. In fact, I believe I found him just as irritating as Tracy Morgan’s character did. And I wish to God that director Kevin Smith and the movie’s producers had not chosen Guillermo Diaz for the role of Poh Boy. In fact, I wish that Mark and Robb Cullen had not created the character in the first place. It must be one of the hammiest movie roles I have ever come across in the past decade.

Before anyone gets the idea that I found ”COP OUT” to be a complete waste of my time, I did not. I will never view this movie as a favorite of mine, or one of the best “cop buddy” films I have ever seen. But I must admit that the movie turned out to be better than I had expected. One of the movie’s strengths turned out to be the Cullens’ screenplay. Mind you, I found nothing particularly unique about it – save for the fact that the two protagonists ended up investigating the very case they had been kicked off, due to one of the heroes’ family crisis. Two, Smith directed a well-paced story filled with some pretty good humor and a great deal of action. In other words, the movie kept me awake. Last but not least, both Bruce Willis and Tracy Morgan managed to create a viable screen chemistry, despite my misgivings from the trailer. Which surprised me a great deal. Willis and Morgan almost came off as a modern-day Abbott and Costello.

Actually, both Willis and Morgan managed to portray a pair of interesting characters. Willis’ Jimmy Monroe was a down-to-earth man with a failed marriage and a partner he has to keep from drifting off to Neverland. And yet, his Jimmy has a quirky, yet occasionally sadistic sense of humor that I found attractive. Although Morgan’s Paul Hodges started off as an irritating character, I eventually warmed up to him. Morgan portrayed Paul as a warm and extroverted man who harbors a great deal of affection for his partner and love for his wife – even if that love threatened to transform into an overwhelming jealousy.

Despite my complaints about Sean William Scott’s character, the petty thief Dave, I must admit that I found him occasionally funny. I certainly enjoyed Ana de la Reguera’s performance as Gabriela, the mistress of a murdered criminal whom Jimmy and Paul found in the trunk of the very car wanted by Poh Boy. Gabriela possessed something that Poh Boy wanted. More importantly, de la Reguera’s performance struck me as warm, funny and very feisty. As I had stated earlier, I did not care for Guillermo Diaz’s performance as the drug lord Poh Boy. Quite frankly, I found it too over-the-top for my tastes. I suppose Smith wanted Diaz to portray Poh Boy as psychotic. I just simply found him annoying. Kevin Pollak and Adam Brody portrayed Hunsaker and Mangold, two N.Y.P.D. detectives that happened to be Jimmy and Paul’s rivals. Personally, I found their performances unmemorable. And there were moments when I wondered if Pollak seemed bored with his role. I certainly was.

I suspect that ”COP OUT” has failed to become a hit film in the three weeks since its release. It is not what I would call an original film. There seemed to be a hint of originality in the plot involving one of the lead’s family crisis and the main villain. Yet, it struck me as a typical action comedy from the 1980s and 90s. Some of the characters either irritated me or struck me as irrelevant. And I did not care for the main villain. But I still enjoyed the movie’s story and humor. The pacing did not drag, thanks to Kevin Smith’s direction. And Bruce Willis and Tracy Morgan made a surprisingly effective screen team. In the end, I would not mind seeing it again.

"Obssessions" [PG-13] - Chapter 14

"OBSSESSIONS"

Part 14

The moment Bruce entered the McNeill house, he glanced at the grandfather clock standing in the foyer. Eighteen minutes past midnight. He hated working as head chef during the Golden Horn's evening hours. But with Arnold Gondorf on vacation during the past two weeks, he really had no choice. Thank goodness Gondorf was scheduled to return within another week to supervise the 5-11 PM shift. The other chef would give Bruce and Barbara enough time to plan the last minute preparations for the wedding. After that, they should be in Maui, enjoying a month long honeymoon.

Despite his strained muscles, Bruce managed to climb the curved staircase to the second floor. He made his way to his bedroom, entered and leaned against the wall. A sigh left his mouth. Sanctuary. Then he closed the door and began to remove his clothes. No sooner had he stepped out of his trousers, Bruce spotted the red light flashing on his answering machine. Damn! Who had called?

He walked over to the desk and turned on the machine. "Bruce, this is Livy," his sister's voice echoed. "Please call me as soon as possible. It's urgent!" Bruce switched off the machine. Urgent, huh? Not at twelve twenty-three in the morning. Bruce decided he would call Olivia in the morning. Right now, he needed sleep. He removed his jacket and shirt. After he slipped out of his shoes, the cell phone inside his jacket rang. For crying out . . . Suppressing his annoyance, Bruce retrieved the phone and answered, "Hello?"

"Signor McNeill?" The bell-like voice struck a familiar note. "This is Portia Della Scalla." Oh yes. HER. "I realize that it is a bit late . . ."

Bruce's lethargy immediately vanished. "Oh no! Uh, how may I help you, Miss Della Scalla?" he replied enthusiastically.

The Italian woman continued, "Yes. I merely wanted to confirm the time of our next interview."

Bruce replied, Oh, uh, yeah. I forgot. How about tomorrow afternoon, around three? At the Golden Horn?"

"Well, I had thought . . ." She paused. "Never mind. Tomorrow afternoon should be perfect." Then she gasped. "Oh!"

Concern filled Bruce's voice. "Is there a problem?"

"No . . . uh, yes." Another pause followed. "More like a request."

"Of course. What is it?"

Before he could grasp any further thought, a string of words in Latin filled Bruce's ear. Words that his brain had little time to translate. Then the bell-like voice added, "I want you to remove the protection spell around the house."

"As you wish," Bruce replied in a disembodied voice.

"Once you remove the spell, call me at this number - 445-2783. Comprendere?"

"Yes, signorina." Bruce disconnected his cell phone.

Without any hesitation and dressed only in a T-shirt and boxers, Bruce left his room and walked toward the end of the hallway. There, he spied a sprig of Mallow, resting on the window sill. Bruce gathered the sprig into his hand. Then he automatically went to every corner of the house where a Mallow sprig rested. After gathering all of them, he placed the sprigs into a small bowl inside the kitchen. As he burned the sprigs, he whispered a chant and the house's spell vanished.

Bruce returned to his room, retrieved his cell phone and dialed the number given to him by Portia. "It's done," he said to her. "I have removed the spell."

"Bueno. Now go to sleep. Sonno."

Before he had a chance to disconnect the phone, Bruce fell back on the bed and slipped into a deep sleep.

* * * *

Seconds later, Portia materialized in the middle of Bruce's bedroom. Dressed in a light blue sheer nightgown, she approached the sleeping figure on the bed. Portia could not help but admire the lean and muscular body underneath the dark T-shirt and gray boxer shorts. She slipped out of her nightgown and crawled upon the bed. "Bruce, wake up," she whispered into his ear. "Wake up."

Blue-gray eyes flickered open, looking somewhat glazed. "Barbara?" the man beneath Portia murmured.

"Ssh! Yes, it's Barbara," the succubus whispered in an American accent. "I'm here. For you." Portia flickered her tongue over Bruce's left ear. "Take me, Bruce. Now."

Strong arms wrapped around Portia's waist and positioned her flat on the bed. Bruce removed his T-shirt. The succubus marveled at the lean, sinewy muscles on his arms and chest. Breathing heavily herself, she gently planted her hands on each side of his face and drew it toward hers. Their lips met.

Bellissima! Portia thought. She had mated with scores of men - mortal or otherwise - over the past two hundred and thirty years, yet Bruce McNeill seemed destined to be one of those rare ones who possessed a talent for inflaming passion. Warm, supple lips began to explore her neck. The mortal's hands slowly rose up her waist, until they cupped her breasts. A low moan escaped her mouth. Thumbs gently pressed against her nipples. Portia's moans grew louder. Louder than she had expected.

* * * *

Harry's eyes flew open. Did he just hear a moan? He sat up and switched on the lamp on his nightstand. Then he heard it. A second moan. And it seemed to be coming from Bruce's room.

Frowning, Harry slipped out of bed and donned his robe. He paused. Yep, another moan. Not only was it louder, it sound as if it came from a woman. A woman? In Bruce's room? Harry's first thought was that Barbara had decided to pay his brother a little nocturnal visit. Until he remembered that Barbara was pissed at Bruce, regarding that Italian journalist.

Harry left his room and stopped in front of Bruce's room. He hesitated. What if he end up interrupting something personal? Like Bruce fooling around with another woman? Or watching porn on television? Then Harry remembered that it was past midnight. Bruce would be too tired for any kind of nighttime activity, whatsoever. He also remembered that Big Brother did not care for porn. Abnormal, but true.

Finally, Harry knocked on the door. He whispered, "Bruce? Are you up?" When no one answered, he reached for the doorknob and twisted it. The door swung open. Harry stepped inside the bedroom and found . . . nothing. Well, aside from a bare-chested Bruce sprawled on the bed. And a cell phone on the floor. Harry shivered. San Francisco at night can be chilly. And it certainly felt chilly now. So why was Bruce bare-chested? Why could he detect the essence of another presence? And why did the air smell like gardenias? Unable to answer these questions, Harry covered his slumbering brother with a blanket, placed the cell phone on the nightstand and left the room.

* * * *

"Muerda!" Portia cried after she reappeared inside her hotel suite. "Why is this man so difficult to entrap?"

The moment he saw the anger and frustration stamped on the succubus' face, Nick heaved a weary sigh. "What happened?"

"A telepath! The witch's brother is a telepath!" Portia shot back. Clad only in the sheer nightgown, she marched back and forth in front of the sofa. Her statuesque figure quivered with fury. "He had interrupted us before we could have sex." She sighed and flopped down in one of the chairs. "We were so close. And he was so . . ." A mournful expression replaced the anger on her face.

Nick stared at the succubus. Frowning. "I don't . . . what exactly happened?" Portia explained. After she had convinced Bruce McNeill to remove the protection spell, she paid the mortal a visit to his bedroom. Set about seducing him, they had been interrupted by her impending victim's brother. Portia managed to disappear before the latter walked into the bedroom.

"And you did nothing?" Nick demanded.

Portia glared at him. "What do you mean by that remark?"

"You're a succubus, for heaven's sake! One of your powers is the ability to make anyone within a few feet of you, fall asleep!"

The succubus inhaled deeply. "I know what my powers are!" she snapped.

"Then why didn't you simply put Harry to sleep when he entered?"

Portia retorted, "Because I sensed that he was a telepath!"

Rolling his eyes, Nick demanded, "And?"

"And I have difficulty . . ." Portia's voice slipped into a murmur. "I have difficulty dealing with telepaths."

Nick wondered if he had heard correctly. "You . . .?"

"It happened over ninety years ago," she said. "Just before the First World War. I had encountered a Streghone, who also happened to be a telepath. I tried to put him asleep, but he resisted and ended up deflecting my power and using it against me. He would have succeeded, but my sister intervened and rescued me." Portia added rather smugly, "She also killed him."

The only question that Nick could ask after that story was, "You have a sister?"

"An older sister. She's also a succubus. As for your Bruce McNeill, I will bring him here, the next time. I cannot risk trying to sleep with him at his home."

Nick asked, "And how do you plan to do that? Aren't you supposed to meet him at the restaurant?"

A sly smile touched Portia's lips. "Tomorrow afternoon. But I'll be paying Signor McNeill a visit a lot earlier. When he is alone at his home."

"But his grandmother is sure to be there," Nick protested. "And she's also a telepath."

Portia's smile widened. "Bruce and I will not be staying there, very long. Do not worry."

* * * *

It seemed too early to leave for work at six forty-three in the morning. But with thoughts of DeWolfe Mann's murder, Portia Della Scalla, Paul Margolin and Cole whirling in her brain, Olivia could barely get any sleep. She had finally given up around five-thirty and slipped out of bed.

Within an hour, Olivia had managed to shower, dress and prepare an omelet for breakfast. After she finished eating, she noticed a full bag of garbage on the kitchen floor. Before she left the apartment, she snatched the garbage bag, along with her purse and suitcase, and quickly left.

The elevator conveyed her to the building's underground parking lot. Upon her arrival, she dumped the bag into the large garbage container and started toward her convertible. She had just slipped her key into the car's door, when she spotted a familiar black Porsche entered the parking lot. To Olivia's disgust, she felt her heartbeat increase rapidly.

She should simply climb into her car and drive away. Now. Instead, Olivia stood beside the BMW. Something inside her wanted . . . no, demanded to know why a certain Mr. Cole Turner was arriving home at six forty-nine in the morning.

The black Porsche eased into Cole's parking space. The engine switched off. Dry-mouthed, Olivia watched as the half-daemon climbed out of his car. He was dressed in semi-formal eveningwear - dark blue suit and a light blue shirt opened at the throat. He slammed the door shut, glanced up and seemed surprised to find Olivia standing nearby.

"Olivia," he mumbled. "What . . . uh, what are you doing here?"

The red-haired woman assumed a cool poise. "Going to work. I might ask the same about you. Isn't it a little late for you to be coming home? At six-fifty in the morning?"

"I was out," Cole quickly explained. "Visiting a friend."

"Oh." Olivia paused. "What friend?"

A frown darkened Cole's countenance. "Are you now giving me the third degree?"

"No, I'm merely being curious," Olivia coolly answered. "You said something about a friend?"

The frown disappeared. Cole cleared his throat. "More like an acquaintance. I met with a daemon named Riggerio, last night. Wanted to know if he knew anything about . . ."

". . . Portia Della Scalla," Olivia finished. Then it was her turn to frown. "Riggerio? That name sounds familiar. Did this Riggerio know her?"

Shaking his head, Cole replied, "No. He's not that familiar with the mortal names of daemons. But he did promise to look into the matter. For a price, of course."

Now, Olivia remembered where she had heard of the name. "Riggerio, huh? He must want his coven's sigil. The Crotona Ring."

Blue eyes flew open in surprise. Cole demanded, "How did you . . .?"

"I recognized the name," Olivia said before he could finish. "Aunt Carla, Mom's friend, once told us about a coven of daemons or high-level sorcerers in Italy. The Congrega de Crotona."

Admiration shone in Cole's eyes. "You really know your daemons, don't you?"

A smile nearly tugged at Olivia's lips. "I try." Then she spotted a pinkish-red smudge on the left side of Cole's throat. Lipstick. She added in a cool voice that drew a frown from the half-daemon, "I also know that you don't need a car to meet someone like Riggerio."

Cole warily replied, "He owns a jazz club here in San Francisco."

One of Olivia's auburn brows quirked upward. "Really? And yet, you still needed your car? Or maybe you had hopes of finding someone else at your friend's club." She reached out and took a swipe of the lipstick with her finger. "Someone of the female persuasion?"

Cole's mouth flew open. He looked like a fish that had just been pulled out of the water. "Oh. I uh, . . . I met this . . ."

"So, who was the lucky lady?" Although she spoke softly, Olivia regarded Cole with a chilly stare.

His eyes pleaded with Olivia to understand. She failed to respond and Cole's handsome face became a cold mask. "Someone I just met. Speaking of last night, how was your date with Leo's prized pupil?"

"Fine," Olivia replied shortly. "And we had enjoyed ourselves. Immensely." Which was a lie. Her evening with Paul Margolin had been pleasantly and nothing more. The only excitement Olivia felt during the evening had been her ephinany regarding Portia Della Scalla.

Cole's lips tightened. "Well, I guess I can say the same."

Jealously struck Olivia like a fist to the gut. She wanted to strike back at Cole. Or place a curse upon his head. Incinerate him with her pyrokinesis. Or perhaps that bitch with whom he had spent the night. Instead, Olivia's gaze became icier. "By the way, I'm afraid I'll have to cancel another exercise session. I have some paper work I need to do for the DeMatteo case."

Disappointment, followed by anger, jealousy and resignation seemed to flash in Cole's eyes, one by one. "Oh. Another evening with Mr. Margolin, I see."

"That's funny. I don't recall mentioning Paul." Olivia hated the defensive tone in her voice.

"You didn't have to."

Realizing that their conversation seemed to be going nowhere, Olivia decided to end it. Now. She glanced at her watch. Three minutes after seven. "I better get going, or I'll be late for work."

"What are you talking about?" Cole demanded. "You usually don't leave for work until . . ."

Olivia interrupted, "If your friend, Riggerio, ever find any information on Miss Della Scalla, could you let me know? I think she may be after Bruce."

Cole frowned. "Why?"

"I don't know. Revenge, perhaps?" Olivia climbed into her BMW. "I'll see you later. Oh, and one more thing." She switched on the car's engine and fixed Cole with something like a cross between a smirk and a sneer. "The next time your libido gets the best of you, try to find someone who doesn't overdo it with the perfume. Anyone could easily smell you, down-winded."

Ignoring Cole's embarrassed expression, Olivia slipped her car out of her parking lot and drove away.


END OF PART 14

"MANGAL PANDEY: THE RISING" (2005) Photo Gallery

Below are photos from the 2005 biopic about Mangal Pandey, the Indian soldier who served as the catalyst for the 1857-58 Sepoy Rebellion against the British called "THE RISING: BALLAD OF MANGAL PANDEY". Directed by Ketan Mehta, the movie starred Aamir Khan and Toby Stephens:


"MANGAL PANDEY: THE RISING" (2005) Photo Gallery

"THE PACIFIC" (2010) - Episode Two "Guadalcanal II" Commentary

I wrote this brief commentary on the second episode of "THE PACIFIC":


"THE PACIFIC" (2010) - Episode Two "Guadalcanal II" Commentary

Episode Two of HBO’s ”THE PACIFIC” continued the saga of the U.S. Marines during the Guadalcanal campaign. Episode One focused mainly on Robert Leckie’s combat experiences during the campaign. This latest episode centered on the combat experiences of Sergeant John Basilone and his fellow comrades from the 7th Marines regiment.

By the time I had finished watching Episode Two, I found myself battling a tension headache. And it was all due to action sequences featured in this episode. Granted, I also found the battle scenes in Episode One rather tense, the action in this second episode knocked it out of the ballpark for me. Around late October 1942, John Basilone and a handful of his fellow Marines were forced to fight off a frontal assault by the Japanese Army. Between the assault and Basilone’s encounters with Japanese troops, while fetching more ammunition literally had me squirming on my living room sofa. And I must say that Jon Seda did a great job of portraying Basilone’s heroics and making it look natural in the process. I also have to give kudos to actor Joshua Biton for his emotional portrayal of one of Basilone’s close friends, J.P. Morgan.

With the exception of an aerial bombing sequence, this particular episode did not feature Leckie and his friends in actual combat. Instead, the episode focused upon them dealing with various other problems during their stay on Guadalcanal – lack of supplies, inadequate arms and . . . um, health issues. Poor Runner dealt with an attack of the runs and Leckie found himself throwing up after consuming stolen canned peaches on a half-empty stomach. Leckie and a good number of other Marines stole supplies left on the beach for the arriving U.S. Army. In a hilarious scene, Leckie managed to pinch the peaches, along with cans of other food; and a pair of moccasins and a box of cigars that belonged to an Army officer. I never knew that actor James Badge Dale had a talent for comic timing . . . until now.

Episode Two also revealed a glimpse of Eugene Sledge back in Mobile. He and his father, Dr. Sledge, have discovered that Sledge’s heart murmur no longer exists. Upon this discovery, Sledge wasted no time in announcing his intention to join the Marines. And viewers will eventually see the results of that decision by Episode Five.

By the end of the episode, the Marines were ordered to leave the island, much to the relief of many. Both Basilone and Morgan found themselves trying to rationalize the death of their friend, Manny Rodriguez, while other Marines loaded up in boats taking them off the island. A scene that featured good, solid acting by both Seda and Biton. The episode’s last scene featured Leckie and his friends learning from a Navy cook aboard ship that their actions on Guadalcanal had been reported in American newspapers and that they were now all regarded as heroes. Judging from the expressions on the Marines’ faces, they seemed conflicted on how to accept the news. This wonderfully performed scene by Badge Dale and the actors portraying Leckie's friends - Josh Helman (Chuckler), Keith Nobbs (Runner) and Jacob Pitts (Hoosier)- was mentioned in Leckie’s memoirs.

Like Episode One, this was a well done that left me feeling tense and an array of other emotions. I only hope that the miniseries’ remaining episodes will match the quality of the first two.

"THE BOUNTY HUNTER" Photo Gallery

Below are photos from the new action comedy, "THE BOUNTY HUNTER". Directed by Andy Tennant, the movie stars Jennifer Aniston and Gerard Butler:


"THE BOUNTY HUNTER" Photo Gallery

"The Deconstruction of Dr. Jack Shephard"

”THE DECONSTRUCTION OF DR. JACK SHEPHARD”

I have a confession to make. I must be one of the few viewers of television’s ”LOST” who does not dislike the series’ lead character, Dr. Jack Shephard. Before anyone makes the assumption that he is a favorite character of mine, let me make one thing clear. He is not. But for some strange reason, I do not dislike Jack.

For the past three or four seasons, many ”LOST” fans have ranted consistently against Jack’s faults. Mind you, he is not the only flawed character in the series. In fact, most of the major charactes seemed to possess some very serious flaws. Jack Shephard seemed to be one of very few characters that has drawn a considerable amount of ire from the fans. I do not know why he has been specifically targeted by these fans. But I cannot help but wonder if the combination of Jack’s role as the series’ lead character and his flawed personality has set fans against him.

Now, someone might claim that my last remark sounds ridiculous. As I had earlier pointed out, most of the major characters are also seriously flawed or have committed some serious crimes. Extremely flawed characters like John Locke, Jin Kwon, Michael Dawson, Kate Austen, Miles Strume, Ana-Lucia Cortez, Charlie Pace, Sayid Jarrah, James “Sawyer” Ford, Sun Kwon, Boone Carlyle, Mr. Eko, Juliet Burke and Shannon Rutherford. Hell, the list is practically endless. And yet, the only other character who have received as much criticism or hate as Jack is Ana-Lucia Cortez. Why? Well, I have my theories.

Both Jack and Ana-Lucia had assumed leadership among the castaways at one time or the other, due to their personalities, circumstances and professions. Ana-Lucia had assumed leadership of the Tail Section passengers that crashed on one side of the island for forty-eight (48) days. Since Day One of the Oceanic Airlines Flight 815 crash, she stepped up and utilized her skills as a police officer to save lives and make decisions when no one else would. Jack, a spinal surgeon, did the same with the surviving passengers from the Fuselage Section on the other side of the island. In one early Season One episode, (1.05) “White Rabbit”, he seemed willing to back away from the role of leader, until John Locke convinced him to resume it. Jack remained the leader even after Ana-Lucia and the remaining Tail Section passengers joined the Fuselage camp. And it was not until after his departure from the island in the Season Four finale with Hugo “Hurley” Reyes, Sun Kwon, Sayid Jurrah, Kate Austen and Aaron Littleton that he finally relinquished the position.

Recalling the above made me realize something. Human beings – for some reason or other – expect leaders to know everything and always do the right thing. Always. And without fail. Humans seemed to have little tolerance toward the imperfections of our leaders. This certainly seemed to be the case for fictional characters who are leaders. And many fans of ”LOST” have harbored a deep lack of tolerance toward Jack and Ana-Lucia’s personal failings.

In the case of the former L.A.P.D. police officer, many fans have complained of her aggressive personality. They have also accused her of being a bitch. In other words that means being aggressive and hard – traits many have claimed are more suited for a man, instead of a woman - is a sure sign that a woman is a bitch. And unlike other female characters on the series, Ana-Lucia lacked the svelte, feminine looks prevalent in the ”LORD OF THE RINGS” saga.

Actually, gender politics also seemed to have played a great deal in the fans’ opinion of Jack. His main crime seemed to be that he does not fit the image of a heroic leading male character. Physically, he looks the part. Unfortunately for Jack, he failed to live up to those looks. He has made the wrong choices on several occasions – choices that included his decision to set off the nuclear bomb Jughead in the Season Five finale, (5.16/5.17) “The Incident”. It is interesting that many fans have dumped most the blame upon Jack’s shoulders regarding that bomb. And he is partially to blame. But these same fans failed to remember it was Daniel Faraday who had first insisted upon setting off the bomb to reset time back to the day of Flight 815’s crash – September 22, 2004. Many have accused Jack of failing to be a proper parent figure to his nephew, Aaron Littleton, during his three years off the island. And at the same time, many have praised Kate Austen for pretending to be the boy’s mother. I found this rather perverse, considering that Kate had set in motion the lie about her being Aaron’s mother. Jack was guilty of supporting Kate’s lie. But instead of criticizing both for lying about Aaron and keeping him from his Australian family, these fans have criticized Jack for not being an effective father figure Aaron and praised a kidnapper like Kate for being a good mother. Ah, the ironies of life.

Many fans have accused Jack of being emotionally abusive toward Kate. And yes, they would have every reason to wonder his behavior.  But Kate had triggered Jack’s anger and insecurities, thanks to her own behavior.  Behavior that consisted of her constant lies, holding back information, and attempts to manipulate him and others.  If one character is going to be criticized for the situations I have previously described, so should the other character involved in those situations. Some of Jack’s other mistakes included sanctioning Sayid’s torture of Sawyer, failure to organize a search for the kidnapped Walt Lloyd, instigating that ludicrous search for Michael Dawson, communicating with those aboard the S.S. Kahana, which included Martin Keamy and his gang of hired mercenaries, and refusing to treat a badly wounded 12 year-old Ben Linus, who had recently been shot by Sayid Jarrah.  I believe Jack had reached the nadir of his moral compass with this last act.  Yet, he has received more complaints about his relationship with Kate and his tendency to get emotional and shed tears than for anything else. Once again, many fans managed to prove that we still live in a patriarchal society. It was okay for female characters to shed tears in very emotional moments, but not male characters. Especially if the male character happens to be the leading character in a television series or movie.

Jack’s penchant for tears was not the only sign of the fandom's hypocrisy.  I have written articles criticizing some of the series’ other characters. Most of my articles have either criticized Kate Austen or James "Sawyer" Ford.  I will be honest. I used to dislike Kate very much. But most of my dislike had not only stemmed from her past flaky behavior, but also the fans’ tendency to excuse her mistakes and crimes . . . or pretend that she had never done anything wrong. However, Kate is not the only character given this leeway.  James Ford has murdered three people – one in Australia and two on the island. Yet, many fans tend to make excuses for him. I do not dislike James. But I have complained about his flaws, mistakes and crimes. When I do, many fans tend to pretend that he has not done anything wrong. And I find this frustrating.

Sometime back in Season Two or Season Three, actor Matthew Fox and the show’s producers, Carlton Cuse and Damon Lindelof, made it known to the media and viewers that they were doing something different with the Jack Shephard character. They took a superficially heroic type – a brilliant surgeon that assumed leadership of a group of stranded castaways – and deconstructed him. In other words, they slowly but surely exposed his flaws and took the character to what could be viewed as the nadir of his existence. Whether Jack will be able to climb out of that existence remains to be seen. From what fans on the many ”LOST” message boards and forums have expressed . . . this is not a path they wanted Jack to take. Instead, these fans wanted – or demanded that Jack behave like a conventional hero.

I have not been keeping in touch with most of the Season Six episodes so far. From what I have seen, Jack has rarely indulged in self-destructive behavior. He also has not display any inclination to pursue a romance with Kate. The worst he has done was engage in a temper tantrum over his discovery that the island’s spiritual “man” Jacob has been observing and possibly interfering in the lives of several castaways. Another personality change I have noticed is that he seemed to be passively allowing others to take the lead without questioning their decisions. I do not like this. It makes him seem like a mindless moron.

Does this mean that Jack will finally become the hero that so many demand? Personally, I could not care less about his status as a hero. Nor do I really care for his present passive behavior. But I do hope that he will finally discover some inner peace for himself.

"NORTH AND SOUTH" (2004) Review

Below is my review of the 2004 BBC miniseries, "NORTH AND SOUTH", which is an adaptation of Elizabeth Gaskell's 1855 novel:


”NORTH AND SOUTH” (2004) Review

If someone had told me years ago that I would find myself watching the 2004 BBC television adaptation of Elizabeth Gaskell’s 1855 novel, let alone purchase a DVD copy of the miniseries, I would have dismissed that person’s notion as inconceivable. I have never shown any previous interest in ”NORTH AND SOUTH”. And I am still baffled at how I suddenly became interested in it.

Mind you, I have been aware of the 2004 miniseries for the past several years. This was due to my interest in the three miniseries based upon John Jakes’ literary trilogy about two families during the years before, during and after the American Civil War. Every time I tried to find photographs or websites about Jakes’ trilogy, I would end up encountering material on the BBC miniseries. It took me at least three to four years to express any real interest in ”NORTH AND SOUTH”. But in the end, I found it difficult to ignore the mid-Victorian setting (a period I have always been interested in) and decided to include the miniseries on my Netflix rental list.

But when Netflix decided to offer the opportunity to view ”NORTH AND SOUTH” via the computer, I watched the first fifteen minutes of Episode One . . . and became intrigued. Then I accessed at least two scenes from the miniseries on YOU TUBE - namely John Thornton’s marriage proposal to Margaret Hale and Nicholas Higgins’ castigation of Boucher for ruining the strike via violence and became hooked. I had to see the entire miniseries as soon as possible. So what did I do? Instead of moving ”NORTH AND SOUTH” to the top of my Netflix list, I purchased a DVD copy of the miniseries. Just like that. Yes, I know I could have easily done the former. But for some reason, I found myself longing to own the DVD. And you know what? I am very glad that I made the purchase.

The miniseries is an adaptation of Elizabeth Gaskell’s novel about the cultural clash between England’s pastoral South and the industrial North in the 1850s. It told the story of Margaret, a well-to-do young woman from southern England who is forced to move to the North after her clergyman father became a church dissenter and decided to leave the clergy. With the help of a family friend named Mr. Bell, the Hales managed to find a home in the city of Milton (a stand-in for Manchester). However, they end up struggling to adjust itself to the industrial town's customs, especially after meeting the Thorntons, a proud family that owns a cotton mill called Marlborough Mills. The story explored the issues of class and gender, as Margaret's sympathy for the town mill workers conflicts with her growing attraction to John Thornton.

Many have compared ”NORTH AND SOUTH” to the 1995 miniseries ”PRIDE AND PREJUDICE”, an adaptation of Jane Austen’s novel. Personally, I only saw scant resemblance between the two stories. Both featured a romance between a plucky, yet genteel heroine and a brooding hero. But the personalities of Margaret Hale and John Thornton seemed a far cry from those of Elizabeth Bennet and Fitzwilliam Darcy. Also, ”NORTH AND SOUTH” seemed more than just a costumed romantic story filled with misunderstandings. As I had mentioned in the previous paragraph, it is a social drama about class and gender differences. It is also an exploration of the rise of the Industrial Age and its effects upon people, Great Britain’s economy and the environment. Most importantly, the story is a cultural clash between the pastoral South represented by Margaret Hale and John Thornton’s industrial North.

The miniseries’ exploration of the cotton textile industry led me to ponder a few things about the story’s background. A conversation between Thornton and some of his fellow mill owners led to a mention of the cotton they have purchased from cotton planters in the American South. Although their conversation only touched upon the different locations where cotton is grown, the subject would end up having an impact upon England’s cotton textile industry following the outbreak of the American Civil War. I also noticed that mill workers like Nicholas Higgins and his daughters Bessie and Mary refer to their bosses as ”Master” - the same term African-American slaves use for their owners. I can only speculate on that astounding coincidence.

I have never read Elizabeth Gaskell’s novel. Perhaps I will, one day. But I understand there had been a few changes in this adaptation. One, the miniseries depicted Margaret’s initial meeting with Thornton at a time when he was beating one of his employees for smoking on the Marlborough Mills premises. Naturally, Margaret viewed Thornton’s actions as cruel and barbaric – typical of men in that region. Screenwriter Sandy Welch had created the scene for the miniseries, believing it would better serve as an opening salvo for Margaret’s dislike of Thornton and her prejudices against the North in a more dramatic manner. Although some fans have complained against this artistic license, I have not. Especially since Welch’s screenplay explained that the worker’s smoking could have endangered the employees with a devastating fire. I also feel that this scene visually worked better than Gaskell’s literary introduction of the two main characters.

Another major change in the miniseries featured Margaret and Thornton’s final reconciliation at a railway station between London and Milton. The scene featured Margaret offering financial aid to Thornton for the defunct Marlborough Mills and a romantic kiss between the two. Many have pointed out the lack of discretion of such a kiss in Victorian Britain and they are probably right. But I must admit that I found it damn romantic – probably more so than Elizabeth and Darcy’s reconciliation in most of the ”PRIDE AND PREJUDICE” adaptations I have seen.

Production designer Simon Elliot did a first-rate job in recapturing Great Britain in the early 1850s. I especially applaud his decision to use parts of Edinburgh as a stand-in for Milton. This was a wise decision, considering that the Scottish metropolis managed to retain many of its buildings from the Victorian industrial era. Elliot ended up receiving a much deserved British Academy Television Award nomination for Best Production Design. Not only did Peter Greenhalgh’s photography also captured the period’s mood, but also used different tints of color to distinguish the three main settings in the story – Helstone in Southern England, the Northern industrial town of Milton and London. Mike O’Neill’s costumes suited the period, the personalities of each major character and their circumstances throughout the story. In fact, the miniseries even touched upon the differences between Fanny Thornton’s wide crinoline skirts and the Hale women’s more subdued ones – pinpointing the financial differences between the three female characters and their families. And what can I say about Martin Phipps’ score? Not only was it beautiful, but also haunting enough to be memorable.

The only problems I had with ”NORTH AND SOUTH” centered on its pacing in late Episode 3 and in Episode 4. I think the miniseries could have benefitted from a fifth episode. There seemed to be too many deaths and other incidents during this period of the story for two episodes. I suppose one could blame Gaskell or also her editor – author Charles Dickens – for rushing her toward the end. Too much occurred during these last two episodes – the deaths, Thornton’s friendship with Higgins, Frederick Hale’s reunion with his family, Margaret’s legal problems, Fanny Thornton’s marriage, Thornton’s financial crisis and Margaret’s reunion with her family members in the South and Henry Lennox. I do believe that a fifth episode could have suffice. Also, Welch introduced two characters to the story – a banker named Latimer and his daughter Ann. I believe Ann was used or to be used as Margaret’s rival for Thornton’s romantic interest. Only the so-called rivalry never really went anywhere.

”NORTH AND SOUTH” was really blessed with a first-rate cast – both leading and supporting. Try as I might, I could not find a performance I would consider to be out-of-step. Neither Tim Piggot-Smith or Lesley Manville had received much notice for their portrayal of Margaret’s parents – Richard and Maria Hale. It seemed a shame, considering I found myself very impressed by their performances. Both did an excellent job in conveying how dysfunctional and emotionally repressed the Hale household tended to be. This was especially made apparent in an emotionally charged scene in which Maria Hale expressed her dislike of Milton and lack of understanding toward her husband’s decision to give up the clergy. Brian Protheroe portrayed Mr. Hale’s closest friend and Margaret’s godfather, Mr. Bell. I have not seen Protheroe since he portrayed Maryam D’Abo’s love interest in the 1990 adaptation of Jeffrey Archer’s novel, ”NOT A PENNY MORE, NOT A PENNY LESS”. As Mr. Bell, he was just as charming and ambiguous as he had been back in 1990. Jo Joyner gave a funny and interesting performance as Fanny Thornton, John’s shallow and capricious younger sister. There were times I wondered if Fanny’s character had a one-dimensional note about it, despite Joyner’s hilarious performance. However, the actress did manage to convey the character’s jealousy of not only Margaret, but also her older brother. I also got the feeling, thanks to some subtle moments in Joyner’s performance that Fanny did not like her mother very much. And resented the older woman.

One could never harbor doubts that Sinéad Cusack’s portrayal of Hannah Thornton might be one-dimensional. Aside from the two leads, she gave one of the best performances in the miniseries. Thanks to Cusack’s complex performance, there were times when I could not decide whether to dislike Mrs. Thornton for her hostile attitude toward Margaret, or like her for her warm and devoted relationship with John. In the end, I guess I liked her. She seemed too interesting, too well-written and well-acted by Cusack for me to dismiss her. Besides, I suspect that her attitude toward Margaret had a great deal to do with concern for her son. I found Brendan Coyle and Anna Maxwell Martin’s performances as the mill workers, Nicholas and Bessie Higgins just as impressive. Costume dramas rarely focused upon working-class characters. Yet, both Coyle and Martin ably breathed life into their roles, they did an excellent of conveying the strong impact that both father and daughter had upon the lives of other main characters – especially through their friendships with Margaret and Thornton.

Before I actually saw ”NORTH AND SOUTH”, I had read a great deal about the John Thornton character and actor Richard Armitage, who had portrayed him. Granted, the man possessed unusual looks, but I never gave him much thought . . . until I saw a clip of his performance in the miniseries’ marriage proposal scene. But once I saw the miniseries in its entirety, I could see why Armitage’s performance had generated a slew of fans. His John Thornton blew me away. Literally. The actor gave an outstanding performance as the hard-nosed, yet emotion cotton mill owner who found himself falling in love with this stranger from the South. As a rule, I am not particularly inclined toward overtly masculine types and I am still not. Armitage’s Thornton might have been described in that manner . . . superficially. Yet, the actor managed to transcend this cliché by infusing Thornton with a passionate, yet insecure nature. His Thornton was a man who literally wore his heart on his sleeve. Armitage’s performance is truly remarkable.

I could probably say the same about Daniela Denby-Ashe’s portrayal of the story’s central character, Margaret Hale. I had read an article that Denby-Ashe had auditioned for the role of Fanny Thornton. All I can say is thank goodness that producer Kate Baylett had the good sense to realize that the actress would be the right person to portray Margaret. And Denby-Ashe was magnificent. Not only did she perfectly capture the genteel and internalized aspects of Margaret’s personality, she also conveyed the character’s strong-willed and opinionated nature. And Denby-Ashe’s Margaret proved to be just as intimidating as Armitage’s Thornton. This was especially apparent in two scenes – Margaret’s demand that Thornton do something to protect his new Irish workers from the strikers and her hostile outburst toward Helstone’s new vicar after he had criticized her father’s dissention. She was magnificent in the role.

I really must applaud how producer Kate Barlett, screenwriter Sandy Welch and especially director Brian Percival did a superb job in adapting Elizabeth Gaskell’s novel. In fact, I firmly believe it is one of the best programs that aired on television in the past decade. And yet . . . the only real accolade it managed to receive was a British Academy Television Award nomination for Best Production Design. And nothing else. No nominations for acting, writing or direction. Frankly, I consider this to be a travesty. Am I to believe that the bigwigs at BBC and the British media had this little respect for ”NORTH AND SOUTH” or Elizabeth Gaskell? I am even beginning to suspect that the American media has little respect for it. The only airing of the miniseries was a chopped up version that aired on BBC America, instead of PBS or the A&E Channel. How sad that certain people do not know a really good thing when they see it.

"Obssessions" [PG-13] - Chapter 13

"OBSSESSIONS"

Part 13

Paul glanced around the Golden Horn's dining room with deep approval. "Very nice," he commented. "Just as I remembered it from a show featured on the Food Channel. Actually, it's a lot nicer than I thought."

Olivia responded with a pleased smile. "My mother and older brother would thank you. Both of them take great pride in this place. You know that the BAY-MIRROR is doing a piece on the restaurant's silver anniversary."

"Oh, that's right." Paul paused momentarily. "That's where Phoebe Halliwell works, isn't it? The uh, 'Ask Phoebe' column?"

Olivia shrugged. "For the past year, I believe. In fact, I think she's now one of the country's leading advice columnists."

A wry smile touched Paul's lips. "Ever thought of writing a letter to her, yourself?"

"No, not really. I have my local high priestess to turn to. Or high priest."

One of Paul's brows rose questioningly. "Not your whitelighter?"

Recalling that Leo considered Paul to be one of his prized charges, Olivia hesitated. "Leo hasn't been my whitelighter in thirteen years. I've discovered over the years that my moral code and those of the Elders don't exactly match. Don't forget, I'm Wiccan. Contrary to what they seem to believe, I don't think the Elders can say the same. However, Leo has asked me and my brothers for help, every now and then. And we've done the same." A waiter appeared at the table. Olivia and Paul ordered their drinks - white wine for her and a Manhattan for Paul. When he left, Olivia continued, "I gather it's different with you."

Paul nodded. "I don't have a high priest or priestess as my . . . spiritual guide. Leo is doing just fine. Along with my minister, back home in Buffalo."

"Back home in Buffalo? You don't consider San Francisco your home?"

A wide smile illuminated Paul's handsome face. "Not quite. I haven't been here for two weeks, yet."

Olivia nodded. "Really? Has Leo . . ." She paused. "Has he told you about the recent problems in the Whitelighter Realm? About the different factions that have formed since last summer? And the fact that several whitelighters have become darklighters?" The stunned expression on Paul's face gave Olivia her answer. "Hmmm, I guess not."

The waiter returned with Olivia's wine and Paul's Manhattan. He asked if they were ready for appetizers. Olivia suggested they try the duck pate in sherry aspic. As for the main course, she suggested they try Bruce's specialty - Sweetbreads Menniere.

Paul had managed to snap out of his state of shock, once the waiter left. He leaned forward and said, "Leo never mentioned a word about trouble in the Whitelighter Realm. How did you . . .?"

"Find out? From my dad's whitelighter," Olivia replied. "Or former whitelighter. Dad and Oliver haven't really been whitelighter and charge for a very long time. But they're still close friends. Anyway, Oliver told Dad without the Elders' consent. Leo wasn't exactly happy when he found out that we knew."

Paul took a large gulp of his Manhattan. "How did . . . how did this whole mess began, anyway?"

Olivia told her dinner companion about how the Source's final death led to the destruction of his council and chaos in the Source's Realm. She added that many of the whitelighters had become alarmed by the Elders' willingness to reward the Charmed Ones for getting rid of the Source, and unconcern toward the lack of balance between good and evil in the magical world. Others saw the Source's defeat as a sign that the Elders were becoming increasingly complacent and arrogant about the Realm's chaos. And blind to the fact that this very chaos has led to increased attacks by warlocks and daemons, scrambling to become the new Source.

"Last fall, a daemon named Barbas had managed to steal Cole's powers and use them to become the new Source," Olivia continued. "You've heard of Barbas, right? The daemon of fear? Well, he managed to rule as Source for a few hours, but he also wanted revenge against the Halliwells, and in the end that led to his death. A coven of warlocks named Crozat tried the same."

Paul interrupted, "I've encountered one of two of them."

"Well, around last October and November, they were killing powerful witches to steal enough power to grab control of the Source's Realm. And in December, five of them tried to steal Cole's powers. Like Barbas."

The ADA assumed a cool mask. "Belthazor again? Those new powers of his seemed to be a magnet for trouble."

"Meaning?" Olivia asked pointedly.

"Well, first Barbas tried to steal his powers, and then these warlocks . . ." Paul's voice faded under Olivia's unrelenting stare. He inhaled sharply. "I think I better keep my opinion about Belthazor to myself," he finally said. "The last time I had opened my mouth, I ended up with a tongue lashing from Paige." He finished the last of his Manhattan and sighed. "As for this news about the Whitelighter Realm, I can't understand why Leo didn't tell me."

Olivia shook her head. "Poor Leo. Ever since his problems with the Elders over Piper, he's been increasingly less than willing to break the rules." And being married to the demanding Halliwell had not helped much, she silently added. "I guess the Elders didn't want the whitelighters to alarm their charges. Fortunately, Oliver felt otherwise."

Paul leaned forward, "You know, for a cop, you sure don't seemed to have any qualms about breaking the rules." A disarming smile appeared on his lips. "But I guess that's why I find you . . . so intriguing."

While Olivia finished her glass of wine, the waiter returned with a duck pate loaf on a tray, along with strips of toasted bread. As the couple began to eat, Paul asked Olivia about the progress of her current case. "Are you and Morris any closer to finding the killer?"

"We have a suspect in mind," Olivia replied. "DeWolfe Mann's replacement at the BAY-MIRROR, Portia Della Scalla. I haven't met her, but I can't help but feel there's something odd about the way she was hired. Her credentials weren't even checked by her editor, and I know damn well that she's not a well-known food critic. And then there was the manner of how Mann's body was found. It was Phoebe and Paige who found his body. And according to Phoebe, she heard voices from inside the apartment, before she and Paige orbed inside.

Paul frowned. "You think there's some magical connection?"

"Cole seemed to think so." Olivia could not help but notice how Paul winced at the mention of the half-daemon's name.

"That's right. I forgot." Paul spread some pate over a strip of toast. "Then I guess that a demon would recognize a fellow bad guy. Or girl."

Olivia shot Paul a dark look. "I don't consider Cole a 'bad guy'."

"Oh, of course. I mean . . ." Paul became apologetic. "Look, I'm sorry. I meant that as a half-demon, he would be able to recognize a fellow demon. That is if this Miss Della Scalla is one."

"Possibly." Olivia poured herself another glass of wine from the bottle left behind by the waiter. "If the Della Scalla woman is supernaturally evil, why did she kill Mann? For his job? Is there someone at the BAY-MIRROR she want dead?"

Paul asked, "Is there?"

After a moment's hesitation, Olivia answered, "I don't think so. From what I've gathered, she mainly keeps to herself. She's managed to stay away from the office during her last two days with the paper. And the only other person she has been in contact with was Bruce."

"The story on the restaurant."

Olivia nodded. "Right. Mann was originally supposed to write the story. But now that he's dead . . ." She stopped in mid-sentence, her mouth hanging wide open. It all came to her. The interview on the Golden Horn. DeWolfe Mann's murder. The BAY-MIRROR's quick decision to hire Portia Della Scalla without bothering to check her references. Jason assigning the Golden Horn story to his newest columnist without raising a fuss. "Of course! She's after Bruce!"

"What? What are you talking about?" a confused Paul asked.

An excited Olivia leaned forward. "Bruce! She's after Bruce! The Della Scalla woman. The question is why?"

"Like you said, she might be a demon or warlock."

Olivia shook her head, dismissing the suggestion. "No, no. Daemons and warlocks aren't in the habit of killing witches for no apparent reason." She stood up, catching Paul by surprise. "I need to speak with Bruce. Now. I have to warn him." Olivia strode toward the restaurant's kitchen.

Inside the Golden Horn's nerve center, she found her brother on telephone, apparently screaming at his fiancée. "For God's sake, Barbara! You've got to be kidding! I'm in the middle of preparing a meal, and you want to scream at me about Portia?"

Portia? Bruce's casual mention of the columinst's name startled Olivia. Judging from Bruce's next words, Barbara did not particularly care for it. "What?" he continued. "What do mean . . .? What the hell's wrong with me calling her Portia? It's her name, isn't it?" Another pause followed before Bruce finally ended the phone call. "Look, Barbara," he said in a voice that usually spelled danger for others, "I don't have time for this shit, right now. I'm busy. If you want to have a fit over some woman I barely know, do it when I'm not working. Other than that, good-night!" And he slammed the telephone on the receiver.

Bruce stalked toward one of the kitchen's stove and continued preparing what looked like sweetbreads. He shouted to one of the cooks under his supervision. "Ramon, I need that parsley! Now!"

Olivia strode up to her brother. "Bruce, I need to talk to you."

"Not now, Livy! I'm busy with your sweetbreads and I have another meal to prepare after that. Talk to me, later." Ramon handed him a bowl filled with fresh parsley.

"Bruce, this is important! It's about . . ."

Looking extremely harried, Bruce shook his head. "Please Livy! Not now! Later!" He paused momentarily to wipe his hands on his apron. "Look, give me a call, later. Okay? I should be home around 11:30 or midnight." He returned his attention to the task before him.

A frustrated Olivia had no choice but to leave the kitchen. She decided that a few hours of waiting would not harm anyone. Until then, her mind harbored on Portia Della Scalla. Was the Italian woman really a daemon or warlock? And why would she be after Bruce?

Olivia's mind had become so fixated on the Della Scalla woman that she failed to remember that she had a dinner companion. It was not until she looked when she realized that she had passed their table.

* * * *

"Belthazor." A handsome, swarthy man with curly black hair and dark-brown eyes approached Cole. The latter sat next to the bar, inside Vornado, a popular jazz club that had recently opened.

Cole whirled his stool around and gave the approaching man a wry smile. "Riggerio. It's been a while. I haven't seen in nearly thirty years."

"Thirty-six years, to be exact," Riggerio corrected in a smooth, Italian accent. "Portofino, February 1967. Our congrega had asked the Brotherhood of the Thorn's help in getting hold of a certain chalice." He eased onto the stool, next to Cole's.

"And as I recall, your coven had to hand over your sigil as payment for our services." Cole's face hardened. "Of course, one of your people tried to double-cross the Brotherhood. Fortunately," his face broke into a smile, "all's well that ended well."

Riggerio shook his head in mild disgust. "That Ornias! He was always such an impetuous fool! Which is why he is dead, of course." He immediately changed the subject. "So Belthazor, what brings you here to Vornado's? Hmmm? You don't exactly run in our circle."

"An old friend had informed me where I could find you," Cole explained. "Imagine my surprise when I found out that you had left Italy for the States. And here in San Francisco, no less."

The other daemon shrugged. "Portofino became . . . a dangerous place to stay. Italy in general, thanks to the Camelli family. Damn witches! So I came here. Opened this nice little club."

Nodding, Cole continued, "And the reason I'm here is for some information. I was wondering," he paused, "if you had ever heard of a witch, a warlock, or possibly a daemon named Portia Della Scalla in the Stregheria world."

A frown darkened Riggerio's face. "A daemon named Della Scalla? Sounds like a mortal's name. Perhaps she is a witch. Or a warlock."

"Perhaps she is," Cole added. "But there are daemons who use mortal names, when among humans." A bartender appeared and asked Cole if he would like a drink. He ordered a martini.

After the bartender stepped away, Riggerio said, "I'm sorry, my friend, but I am not familiar the human persona of every daemon. I do not even know your human name."

"For which I am thankful," Cole said with a smirk. He quickly sobered. "Could you do me a favor? Find out all you can about this Portia Della Scalla. I've already met her once, and there's something about her . . . I don't know. Something seductive. Like a succubus."

Dark eyes grew suspicious. "Why? So you can kill her?" Cole glanced sharply at the other daemon, who continued, "Do not think I haven't heard about the mighty Belthazor. That he had fallen in love with a witch. Helped her fight those of his kind."

Cole's own eyes became chilly. "Then you would also know that I was briefly the Source before I came back from the Wasteland. Stronger." He hesitated; a smug smile curved his lips. "And how long has it been since your coven had possessed the Crotona Ring, your sigil? Nearly forty years? I know where I can get my hands on it. Give it to you, as payment."

Surprise, followed by desire and wariness, flickered in Riggerio's eyes. "How? Your people no longer have a leader, and your realm is in chaos."

"You're right." Cole paused dramatically. "But the ring was in my possession during my brief tenure as the Source. Before I was . . . killed, I discovered where the previous Source had it hidden."

Confusion now darkened Riggerio's eyes. "Killed?"

"Of course. How else did I end up in the Wasteland?" Cole shook his head. "But that's a long story. Right now, I'm more interested in making a deal. I'm the only one alive who knows the location of the ring."

The other daemon paused thoughtfully. "All right, Belthazor. You have a deal." The two shook hands. The bartender briefly returned with Cole's martini, before moving on to another customer. "By the way, are you still with your witch?"

"My wi. . . Phoebe?" Cole shook his head. "No. Not anymore. My reign as the Source had put an end to our marriage. It was she and her sisters who had killed me. After I came back from the Wasteland, she divorced me."

Sympathy reflected in Riggerio's eyes. "I am sorry. Truly. But I am not surprised. I also fell in love with a witch." Cole shot him a startled look. Riggerio nodded. "Yes, but it did not last very long. A warlock killed her." He gave Cole's shoulder a friendly pat. "Enjoy yourself, my friend. I'll see about finding you a table."

"Thanks, but I'd rather stay here at the bar."

Riggerio nodded. "Of course. I'll send someone, so that you can order your meal. I will see you later." And he walked away.

Cole returned his attention to his martini. After taking a second sip, a voice cried out cheerfully, "Hey there, stranger!" Cole glanced to his left and found his former sister-in-law standing by his side. Paige.

* * * *

Blue eyes coolly regarded Paige. Who found herself nearly flinching under Cole's direct stare. Even after nearly a four-month truce, Paige noticed that the half-demon seemed to keep her at an emotional distance. Despite her best efforts to resume their friendship.

"Paige," Cole greeted in a cool, but pleasant voice. "This is a surprise. What are you doing here?"

Paige replied, "I was about to ask you the same question."

"Nothing much. Just enjoying an evening out."

"Alone?"

Again, cool blue eyes stared at her. "Is there a problem with that?" Cole asked. He continued before Paige could answer, "By the way, what are you doing here? I didn't think jazz clubs were your style."

"They're not. I'm with someone." Paige pointed out a good-looking man, some five years older than her. "My boyfriend, Nate. His birthday was last Saturday, and we're celebrating tonight."

Cole gazed at her companion. "What happened to Saturday night?"

"He was out of town," Paige answered.

"Uh huh." Cole reached for the martini glass in front of him. "So what is he? A jazz lover?"

Paige replied, "As a matter of fact, Nate happens to like both jazz and rock. Only he wanted to be somewhere other than P3, tonight. So here we are." Paige waved at Nate, who responded with a slight nod. She returned her attention to Cole. "So you're here, all alone? Where's Olivia?"

Something akin to bitterness flickered briefly in Cole's eyes. "Out on a date, I gather," he replied coolly. "With the new ADA."

Paul Margolin. Paige muttered half-heartedly, "I guess she's really interested in this guy."

"You don't sound as if you approve," Cole observed.

Paige shrugged her shoulders. "He's . . . okay. But . . ." She sighed. "I don't know. I don't think he's right for Livy."

"In other words, you don't like him."

Who could argue with the truth? "All right, so I don't," Paige finally admitted. "He's a little too narrow-minded for my taste."

Amusement softened Cole's expression. "Now that's ironic, coming from a Halliwell. I bet six months ago, he would have seemed like the perfect man to you."

"A girl can change," Paige protested. "Although I sometimes wonder if you ever realize that."

Cole drained the last of his martini and faced the younger woman. "Meaning?"

Paige hesitated. "You tell me. Whenever we're together, you seemed to keep me at an arm's distance. I guess that deep down, you haven't . . . I don't know, forgiven me for what happened, last year." There! She finally said it. Got the issue out in the open.

Jazz music blared from the band on the stage, opposite the bar. Cole signaled the bartender and ordered another martini. Paige declined his offer of a drink. "Well," he finally said. "Typical Paige. Blunt as ever. And as usual . . . also right." Cole sighed. "I guess I have been a little distant with you." Paige felt a surge of triumph. And relief. The half-demon continued, "I guess a small part of me felt . . . a little resentful. And you don't deserve it. Especially since you've made a big effort to put the past behind us." Cole stuck out his hand. "Pax?"

"Pax." Paige grabbed Cole's hand and shook it. Her eyes fell upon the man she had earlier spotted with her former brother-in-law. "So, who's the guy you were speaking with?"

Cole hesitated, before he answered, "And old acquaintance."

Old acquaintance? Which could only mean one thing. "He's a demon?"

"Not from my circle," Cole answered, nodding. "But a daemon, nonetheless. He . . . uh, frequents this place. He's a jazz aficionado like myself. I wanted to find out if he had any information on this Della Scalla woman."

Paige frowned. "What do you mean that he's not from your circle?"

Cole sighed. "The demonic world is divided by different factions and dimensions, just like witches who practice different religions." He went on to explain that his faction, ruled by the Source, were basically known to witches and warlocks familiar with Wicca religion, and possibly a few other modern-day Western religions. "Of course, you have Ghede, who is head of the Underworld, according to Vodoun belief. And he does exist, by the way. So do Din and Umbria, who according to Stregheria practioners, lead the underworld."

Paige's eyes grew wide at the mention of the word - Stregheria. "Your friend, he's a Stregheria demon?"

"Uh, if you want to put it that way." Cole glanced over Paige's shoulder. The half-witch/whitelighter followed his gaze, which had settled upon a group of women sitting around a table, left of the dance floor. They seemed very interested in the handsome, half-daemon. Especially one woman in particular.

Paige continued, "If this demon friend of yours is Stregheria, does that mean Portia Whatshername is, too?"

"I don't know," Cole replied. He returned his gaze to Paige. "Of course, I could be assuming she's Stregheria, because of her accent."

"It's too bad that you didn't ask Nick about her."

Cole frowned. "Who?"

"Nick. Nick Marcano? He's a Stregheria witch." When Cole failed to respond, Paige added, "C'mon! You've met him before. At one of the McNeills' brunches. His aunt is an old friend of Mrs. McNeill's. Carla Bianchi. Nick's the one who has a crush on Barbara."

A pause followed before Cole shook his head. "Sorry, I don't remember the guy."

Paige sighed. "Well, that's Nick, for you. The next time I see him, I'll ask about Portia Whatsherface." A recent memory popped into Paige's head. "Strange. He was acting odd when she came by the store with Bruce and Barbara."

"Who?"

"For crying out loud, Cole! I'm talking about Nick! He was acting strange, when that Portia woman . . ." From the corner of her eye, Paige spotted Nate signaling her. "Oh, never mind. I think the birthday boy is getting restless. I better get back to him." Before she walked away from Cole, she added, "By the way, I think you should get a hold of Nick. He might be able to help you."

Upon her return to her table, Paige gave her boyfriend a small peck on the cheek. "Sorry about that," she apologized.

"No biggie," Nate said. He nodded at Cole. "Who is he, by the way?"

Paige smiled at the hint of jealousy in her boyfriend's voice. She gave him a reassuring pat on the arm. "No one for you to worry about, sweetie. He's merely my ex-brother-in-law. He used to be married to my sister, Phoebe. And he's not my type."

"Well, he's obviously someone's type," Nate commented. Paige glanced at the bar. She saw a leggy, chestnut-haired woman approach Cole. She recognized the woman from the group of friends who had been staring at Cole. Even more disturbing was the fact that the interest between the woman and her former brother-in-law seemed mutual.


END OF PART 13

"GREEN ZONE" (2010) Photo Gallery

Below are photos from the new action thriller called "GREEN ZONE". Directed by Paul Greengrass, the movie stars Matt Damon, Greg Kinnear, Brendan Gleeson, Amy Ryan, Khalid Abdalla and Jason Isaacs:


"GREEN ZONE" (2010) Photo Gallery