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For no particular reason, I’ve been thinking about how Palpatine’s Empire worked from the time it was declared, through the time the Senate was dissolved. That’s 19 years, and the Empire seemed pretty bad even with the Senate still in place. So how did Palpatine do things that subverted the Senate, and why did he need to worry about the Senate, at least for the first almost two decades of his reign?
Palpatine’s Toolbox
Palpatine’s status as Emperor meant he never needed to worry about being reelected. It was so important to stabilize the galaxy after the Clone Wars and the treasonous assassination attempt by the Jedi that it was best for galactic security to have a stabilizing influence in the executive branch. So Palpatine can’t be voted out.
Palpatine was also granted special powers during the Clone Wars that were never revoked. This seems to revolve around control of the military, meaning he can spend a whole lot and has direct control over its structure. The Republic didn’t have a standing military until the Clone Wars, they had Judicial Enforcement agents and the cooperation of local sector military, which were limited in size. Palpatine’s now got a standing military that can grow generationally and is just assumed to be part of the government, specifically under control of the executive/imperial branch.
It’s possible that the Senate retained the ability to amend what Palpatine could do with the military, not entirely unlike the USA’s War Powers act, where the President can order the military to take action for up to 60 days, but at that time, if the President is waging a war, it needs to be declared by Congress. There may not be a time limit on Palpatine’s powers, but there may be Senatorial oversight where they can vote to override something he’s committed the military to do.
In the United States, according to the Constitution, Congress gets to declare war, the President gets to command troops. Because of global conflicts like the World Wars, the President’s ability to act and react militarily unofficially expanded to allow for military deployment without actually declaring war. Also keep in mind that after World War II, the military had nukes, and the President controlled the military, meaning that, while unlikely, the President could maybe even nuke someone if they framed it as “not a war.” Instead of just being in control of the military in war time, the President now had organizations like the NSA and the CIA who are additional aspects of “national security.”
Neither the Korean War nor the Vietnam War were actually, technically, wars, and the War Powers act was a means of keeping the President from doing things like, I don’t know, sending troops into Cambodia to undermine North Vietnam’s supply lines which led to the Khmer Rouge killing about two million people. But both the President and the Emperor can get a lot done in the time between ordering military action and the response of the Congress/Senate to reign in that power. Also, it’s probably worth looking at the bit about the President potentially nuking someone without getting approval to declare war when thinking about Palpatine.
Structures and Power Blocks
It is also important to look at the structure of the galaxy and how that played into Palpatine’s abilities and influence. The galaxy in Star Wars has these broad categories:
- Deep Core
- Core Worlds
- Colonies
- Inner Rim Territories
- Expansion Region
- Mid Rim Territories
- Outer Rim Territories
- Unknown Regions
- Wild Space
We’ve got a few of these that “don’t count” when looking at the big picture. Wild Space is out there without much knowledge regarding the region. The Unknown Regions are broadly mapped but with little contact with any of the worlds inside it, from the Galactic Empire’s point of view. The Deep Core is a bunch of densely packed systems at the center of the galaxy that are just kind of there, and a pain to get to due to a massive black hole in the middle of the galaxy. But it’s a good place to hide things if you have mapped a hyperspace route to that place.
The Core Worlds are the oldest, most established worlds in the Empire. These are the wealthiest and most influential sectors. What that means from a galactic political standpoint is that if you keep turmoil from coming to the Core Worlds, it’s really easy for the Core Worlds to act like there isn’t any turmoil. This is where you have places like Alderaan, Corellia, Kuat, and Chandrila. If Palpatine loses these, he loses the money and the means of production. For example, Kuat and Corellia are major shipyards.
The Colonies, Inner Rim, and the Expansion region are all very similar to the Core by Palpatine’s time, wealthy compared to the rest of the galaxy except the Core, and fairly comfortable. The main difference is that the social pecking order of who’s important goes from Core, to Colonies, to Inner Rim, to Expansion region. Even though the galaxy is organized into a Republic just prior to Palpatine’s transformation of it into an Empire, there are a lot of Core Worlds that retain symbolic noble titles, and that fades a bit the further out you go.
The Mid Rim was the edge of the Republic for a long time. This is the region that is usually pretty comfortable but is more prone to dealing with uprisings and pirate raiders. In other words, this is the region of the Empire that you control by making sure they feel like they need the military watching over them because what’s beyond the Mid Rim is scary and dangerous.
For a lot of the Outer Rim’s existence, very few systems were part of the Republic or the Empire. You may have powerful sector-wide governments, but nothing centralized, and varying degrees of living conditions. This is the region where the Republic and later the Empire could buy goods and services that weren’t produced under the enlightened law of galactic society. “Hey, it’s not up to us to worry about if this was made by enslaved sentients, we’re just conducting trade with part of the galaxy we don’t control.”
You have some of the wealthier parts of the Outer Rim trying to get in on the official structure of galactic government, so you had places like Eriadu, where Tarkin is from, joining up, while still kind of doing things their own way, i.e. holding on to a military larger than the Republic allowed. The galaxy knows a lot of locations in the Outer Rim, and they only control the parts of it that are beneficial to officially control and allow the rest to do whatever they may do that is still conducive to trade with the Republic/Empire.
More of the Outer Rim was officially part of the Republic, and then the Empire, after the Clone Wars. Lots of military outposts were consolidated, lots of areas were incorporated either into the Republic or the CIS during the Clone Wars to keep resources or strategic locations from the other side, and in the end, obviously, whatever the Republic or the CIS annexed ends up being part of the Empire. The Outer Rim has lots of resources, less traditional wealth, and very little power on the galactic stage, because so many regions of the Outer Rim are isolated from one another. These are the people that get exploited the most by the rest of the galaxy. Places like Mon Cala or Eriadu manage to get some degree of official recognition earlier in galactic history, but people like the inhabitants of Ryloth get dumped on hard.
Another thing that’s part of the Outer Rim is the Corporate Sector, a region of space where the Empire lets the corporations run things “for the good of trade.” They are part of the Empire, but don’t have to play by its rules, so long as they provide value to the Empire and don’t cause trouble outside of their sphere of influence. This is where Canto Bight is located, and even in the New Republic era, it was still run by the corporations. The Corporate Sector was part of the Separatists during the Clone Wars, but mainly so they could sell to both sides, a proud tradition it continued through the Galactic Civil War and the First Order-Resistance War. Corporations are not your friends; they just want your money or your labor.
Strategy
That means Palpatine’s political strategy is to keep the Core Worlds, Colonies, Inner Rim, and Expansion regions rich and comfortable, keep the Mid Rim afraid of everything that isn’t the above region of the galaxy, and keep the Outer Rim from having much political leverage to complain about their exploitation. That also means you don’t want to crack down on the Hutts, Black Sun, or the Pykes too hard, because you need them to scare the Mid Rim and destabilize the legitimate power bases of the Outer Rim. You need to keep enough of a military presence in the Mid Rim that they appreciate it, but you don’t use it effectively enough to make them feel like it’s done doing its job.
All of this is great, except that the Senate can still overrule you if they stay unified, and if you play up their regional differences, they start feeling too independent. How do you manage that? Well, thankfully, the other aspect of the special powers granted during the Clone Wars to Palpatine was the installation of Regional Governors. These are people that aren’t elected, they’re appointed by the Chancellor/Emperor, and they get to make big regional decisions that stand unless formally rescinded by the Senate. This “streamlines” the operation of the galaxy to ensure that debate and petty differences don’t keep the galaxy from working as a well-oiled machine.
Most of the regional governors just need to do enough so that Palpatine doesn’t need to worry about getting something to pass in the Senate, but not enough to get the Senate to revisit the decisions the Regional Governors have made. That also means that if those Regional Governors make a decision that screws over one little, tiny system within a sector, who’s going to worry about correcting that? You just need to make sure those tiny little systems don’t add up too fast, before they get used to the idea that they weren’t screwed over, it’s just the status quo being maintained.
Palpatine’s Toolbox, Revisited
So, by the time the first Death Star was created, Palpatine had the following assets:
- A government-wide security agency that nobody thinks much about until it’s used (the ISA)
- An organization that suppresses religious thought that doesn’t align with the religious thoughts of the Emperor (the Inquisition)
- The ability to restructure the military to make sure the right people are in the right positions
- The ability to deploy the military if doing so is relatively quick and decisive
- The ability to spend a ton of money on the military without anyone looking at exactly where that money goes, just the total amount spent
- Appointed positions across the galaxy that can directly implement the Emperor’s will, as long as they do so at a pace that doesn’t rouse the Senate to action
- A scary border where you can convince a significant portion of your population that whatever is past that border needs to be constrained by government power
All of that is powerful out of the gate, but it’s understandable that you don’t want to play your hand too early. If you tell the comfortable part of the galaxy that they aren’t special, they might be able to see that they have more solidarity with the Mid and Outer Rims. If you make the Mid Rim too safe, the Mid Rim might join with the comfortable folk and decide that maybe you don’t need a huge military, and it’s time to start reigning in the budget and revisiting those special powers you’ve had since the Clone Wars.
Compounded Efforts Over Time
On the other hand, after almost twenty years of work, you have a security agency that can kill, imprison, and torture anyone you need on a concentrated scale. You have everyone important in the military chain of command that’s loyal to you and not the government at large. You have a military that has been building and recruiting on a scale larger than you did during the Clone Wars, and as long as you keep the spending spread out, it’s hard for any one branch of the military to be impeded. You have external factors like the Hutts that know exactly how much they can get away with to keep the population scared of them. You have regional governors that can implement your will in a manner that people have become accustomed to for almost two decades, to where locals look to them before their normal political structures for support.
Once you have all of that in effect long enough that people are used to you having that authority, and they know they can’t oust you from office, it becomes pretty easy to just remove one branch of government, because they’ve been ineffective and functionally unimportant for decades. People are almost relieved that a non-functioning thing has suddenly changed, because maybe if you get rid of something that doesn’t work, whatever comes next will be better.
Transitioning a Republic to an Empire
I would really hate to see an executive officer of a government that couldn’t be removed from office or censured in any real way, assisted by appointed government officials that can declare their will to be law outside of the structure of representative government, being able to use the threat of prosecution, incarceration, or death to cow their political adversaries. It would be terrible if there were some kind of protocol detailing an important aspect of their plans to consolidate power that people were desperate to inform others about, which managed to get ignored or suppressed whenever it came close to being exposed. It would be tragic if people that are comfortable ignored the threat that individual posed and took no action, or if part of the population were to be so controlled by their fears of the other that they don’t care what that absolute power means for the good of everyone. It would be devastating if laws began to favor the singular sanctioned religion approved by the singular head of government.
Anyway, I’m glad I felt like writing about Star Wars today and not politics. Can you imagine if Star Wars were political?
https://whatdoiknowjr.com/2024/07/13/the-completely-apolitical-story-of-palpatines-rise-to-power/
#AllianceToRestoreTheRepublic #CloneWars #ConfederationOfIndependentSystems #CoreWorlds #Disney #Empire #ff0000 #InnerRim #MidRim #Movies #OuterRim #Politics #Rebellion #SpoilersThisIsAboutTrump #StarWars
-
For no particular reason, I’ve been thinking about how Palpatine’s Empire worked from the time it was declared, through the time the Senate was dissolved. That’s 19 years, and the Empire seemed pretty bad even with the Senate still in place. So how did Palpatine do things that subverted the Senate, and why did he need to worry about the Senate, at least for the first almost two decades of his reign?
Palpatine’s Toolbox
Palpatine’s status as Emperor meant he never needed to worry about being reelected. It was so important to stabilize the galaxy after the Clone Wars and the treasonous assassination attempt by the Jedi that it was best for galactic security to have a stabilizing influence in the executive branch. So Palpatine can’t be voted out.
Palpatine was also granted special powers during the Clone Wars that were never revoked. This seems to revolve around control of the military, meaning he can spend a whole lot and has direct control over its structure. The Republic didn’t have a standing military until the Clone Wars, they had Judicial Enforcement agents and the cooperation of local sector military, which were limited in size. Palpatine’s now got a standing military that can grow generationally and is just assumed to be part of the government, specifically under control of the executive/imperial branch.
It’s possible that the Senate retained the ability to amend what Palpatine could do with the military, not entirely unlike the USA’s War Powers act, where the President can order the military to take action for up to 60 days, but at that time, if the President is waging a war, it needs to be declared by Congress. There may not be a time limit on Palpatine’s powers, but there may be Senatorial oversight where they can vote to override something he’s committed the military to do.
In the United States, according to the Constitution, Congress gets to declare war, the President gets to command troops. Because of global conflicts like the World Wars, the President’s ability to act and react militarily unofficially expanded to allow for military deployment without actually declaring war. Also keep in mind that after World War II, the military had nukes, and the President controlled the military, meaning that, while unlikely, the President could maybe even nuke someone if they framed it as “not a war.” Instead of just being in control of the military in war time, the President now had organizations like the NSA and the CIA who are additional aspects of “national security.”
Neither the Korean War nor the Vietnam War were actually, technically, wars, and the War Powers act was a means of keeping the President from doing things like, I don’t know, sending troops into Cambodia to undermine North Vietnam’s supply lines which led to the Khmer Rouge killing about two million people. But both the President and the Emperor can get a lot done in the time between ordering military action and the response of the Congress/Senate to reign in that power. Also, it’s probably worth looking at the bit about the President potentially nuking someone without getting approval to declare war when thinking about Palpatine.
Structures and Power Blocks
It is also important to look at the structure of the galaxy and how that played into Palpatine’s abilities and influence. The galaxy in Star Wars has these broad categories:
- Deep Core
- Core Worlds
- Colonies
- Inner Rim Territories
- Expansion Region
- Mid Rim Territories
- Outer Rim Territories
- Unknown Regions
- Wild Space
We’ve got a few of these that “don’t count” when looking at the big picture. Wild Space is out there without much knowledge regarding the region. The Unknown Regions are broadly mapped but with little contact with any of the worlds inside it, from the Galactic Empire’s point of view. The Deep Core is a bunch of densely packed systems at the center of the galaxy that are just kind of there, and a pain to get to due to a massive black hole in the middle of the galaxy. But it’s a good place to hide things if you have mapped a hyperspace route to that place.
The Core Worlds are the oldest, most established worlds in the Empire. These are the wealthiest and most influential sectors. What that means from a galactic political standpoint is that if you keep turmoil from coming to the Core Worlds, it’s really easy for the Core Worlds to act like there isn’t any turmoil. This is where you have places like Alderaan, Corellia, Kuat, and Chandrila. If Palpatine loses these, he loses the money and the means of production. For example, Kuat and Corellia are major shipyards.
The Colonies, Inner Rim, and the Expansion region are all very similar to the Core by Palpatine’s time, wealthy compared to the rest of the galaxy except the Core, and fairly comfortable. The main difference is that the social pecking order of who’s important goes from Core, to Colonies, to Inner Rim, to Expansion region. Even though the galaxy is organized into a Republic just prior to Palpatine’s transformation of it into an Empire, there are a lot of Core Worlds that retain symbolic noble titles, and that fades a bit the further out you go.
The Mid Rim was the edge of the Republic for a long time. This is the region that is usually pretty comfortable but is more prone to dealing with uprisings and pirate raiders. In other words, this is the region of the Empire that you control by making sure they feel like they need the military watching over them because what’s beyond the Mid Rim is scary and dangerous.
For a lot of the Outer Rim’s existence, very few systems were part of the Republic or the Empire. You may have powerful sector-wide governments, but nothing centralized, and varying degrees of living conditions. This is the region where the Republic and later the Empire could buy goods and services that weren’t produced under the enlightened law of galactic society. “Hey, it’s not up to us to worry about if this was made by enslaved sentients, we’re just conducting trade with part of the galaxy we don’t control.”
You have some of the wealthier parts of the Outer Rim trying to get in on the official structure of galactic government, so you had places like Eriadu, where Tarkin is from, joining up, while still kind of doing things their own way, i.e. holding on to a military larger than the Republic allowed. The galaxy knows a lot of locations in the Outer Rim, and they only control the parts of it that are beneficial to officially control and allow the rest to do whatever they may do that is still conducive to trade with the Republic/Empire.
More of the Outer Rim was officially part of the Republic, and then the Empire, after the Clone Wars. Lots of military outposts were consolidated, lots of areas were incorporated either into the Republic or the CIS during the Clone Wars to keep resources or strategic locations from the other side, and in the end, obviously, whatever the Republic or the CIS annexed ends up being part of the Empire. The Outer Rim has lots of resources, less traditional wealth, and very little power on the galactic stage, because so many regions of the Outer Rim are isolated from one another. These are the people that get exploited the most by the rest of the galaxy. Places like Mon Cala or Eriadu manage to get some degree of official recognition earlier in galactic history, but people like the inhabitants of Ryloth get dumped on hard.
Another thing that’s part of the Outer Rim is the Corporate Sector, a region of space where the Empire lets the corporations run things “for the good of trade.” They are part of the Empire, but don’t have to play by its rules, so long as they provide value to the Empire and don’t cause trouble outside of their sphere of influence. This is where Canto Bight is located, and even in the New Republic era, it was still run by the corporations. The Corporate Sector was part of the Separatists during the Clone Wars, but mainly so they could sell to both sides, a proud tradition it continued through the Galactic Civil War and the First Order-Resistance War. Corporations are not your friends; they just want your money or your labor.
Strategy
That means Palpatine’s political strategy is to keep the Core Worlds, Colonies, Inner Rim, and Expansion regions rich and comfortable, keep the Mid Rim afraid of everything that isn’t the above region of the galaxy, and keep the Outer Rim from having much political leverage to complain about their exploitation. That also means you don’t want to crack down on the Hutts, Black Sun, or the Pykes too hard, because you need them to scare the Mid Rim and destabilize the legitimate power bases of the Outer Rim. You need to keep enough of a military presence in the Mid Rim that they appreciate it, but you don’t use it effectively enough to make them feel like it’s done doing its job.
All of this is great, except that the Senate can still overrule you if they stay unified, and if you play up their regional differences, they start feeling too independent. How do you manage that? Well, thankfully, the other aspect of the special powers granted during the Clone Wars to Palpatine was the installation of Regional Governors. These are people that aren’t elected, they’re appointed by the Chancellor/Emperor, and they get to make big regional decisions that stand unless formally rescinded by the Senate. This “streamlines” the operation of the galaxy to ensure that debate and petty differences don’t keep the galaxy from working as a well-oiled machine.
Most of the regional governors just need to do enough so that Palpatine doesn’t need to worry about getting something to pass in the Senate, but not enough to get the Senate to revisit the decisions the Regional Governors have made. That also means that if those Regional Governors make a decision that screws over one little, tiny system within a sector, who’s going to worry about correcting that? You just need to make sure those tiny little systems don’t add up too fast, before they get used to the idea that they weren’t screwed over, it’s just the status quo being maintained.
Palpatine’s Toolbox, Revisited
So, by the time the first Death Star was created, Palpatine had the following assets:
- A government-wide security agency that nobody thinks much about until it’s used (the ISA)
- An organization that suppresses religious thought that doesn’t align with the religious thoughts of the Emperor (the Inquisition)
- The ability to restructure the military to make sure the right people are in the right positions
- The ability to deploy the military if doing so is relatively quick and decisive
- The ability to spend a ton of money on the military without anyone looking at exactly where that money goes, just the total amount spent
- Appointed positions across the galaxy that can directly implement the Emperor’s will, as long as they do so at a pace that doesn’t rouse the Senate to action
- A scary border where you can convince a significant portion of your population that whatever is past that border needs to be constrained by government power
All of that is powerful out of the gate, but it’s understandable that you don’t want to play your hand too early. If you tell the comfortable part of the galaxy that they aren’t special, they might be able to see that they have more solidarity with the Mid and Outer Rims. If you make the Mid Rim too safe, the Mid Rim might join with the comfortable folk and decide that maybe you don’t need a huge military, and it’s time to start reigning in the budget and revisiting those special powers you’ve had since the Clone Wars.
Compounded Efforts Over Time
On the other hand, after almost twenty years of work, you have a security agency that can kill, imprison, and torture anyone you need on a concentrated scale. You have everyone important in the military chain of command that’s loyal to you and not the government at large. You have a military that has been building and recruiting on a scale larger than you did during the Clone Wars, and as long as you keep the spending spread out, it’s hard for any one branch of the military to be impeded. You have external factors like the Hutts that know exactly how much they can get away with to keep the population scared of them. You have regional governors that can implement your will in a manner that people have become accustomed to for almost two decades, to where locals look to them before their normal political structures for support.
Once you have all of that in effect long enough that people are used to you having that authority, and they know they can’t oust you from office, it becomes pretty easy to just remove one branch of government, because they’ve been ineffective and functionally unimportant for decades. People are almost relieved that a non-functioning thing has suddenly changed, because maybe if you get rid of something that doesn’t work, whatever comes next will be better.
Transitioning a Republic to an Empire
I would really hate to see an executive officer of a government that couldn’t be removed from office or censured in any real way, assisted by appointed government officials that can declare their will to be law outside of the structure of representative government, being able to use the threat of prosecution, incarceration, or death to cow their political adversaries. It would be terrible if there were some kind of protocol detailing an important aspect of their plans to consolidate power that people were desperate to inform others about, which managed to get ignored or suppressed whenever it came close to being exposed. It would be tragic if people that are comfortable ignored the threat that individual posed and took no action, or if part of the population were to be so controlled by their fears of the other that they don’t care what that absolute power means for the good of everyone. It would be devastating if laws began to favor the singular sanctioned religion approved by the singular head of government.
Anyway, I’m glad I felt like writing about Star Wars today and not politics. Can you imagine if Star Wars were political?
https://whatdoiknowjr.com/2024/07/13/the-completely-apolitical-story-of-palpatines-rise-to-power/
#AllianceToRestoreTheRepublic #CloneWars #ConfederationOfIndependentSystems #CoreWorlds #Disney #Empire #ff0000 #InnerRim #MidRim #Movies #OuterRim #Politics #Rebellion #SpoilersThisIsAboutTrump #StarWars
-
For no particular reason, I’ve been thinking about how Palpatine’s Empire worked from the time it was declared, through the time the Senate was dissolved. That’s 19 years, and the Empire seemed pretty bad even with the Senate still in place. So how did Palpatine do things that subverted the Senate, and why did he need to worry about the Senate, at least for the first almost two decades of his reign?
Palpatine’s Toolbox
Palpatine’s status as Emperor meant he never needed to worry about being reelected. It was so important to stabilize the galaxy after the Clone Wars and the treasonous assassination attempt by the Jedi that it was best for galactic security to have a stabilizing influence in the executive branch. So Palpatine can’t be voted out.
Palpatine was also granted special powers during the Clone Wars that were never revoked. This seems to revolve around control of the military, meaning he can spend a whole lot and has direct control over its structure. The Republic didn’t have a standing military until the Clone Wars, they had Judicial Enforcement agents and the cooperation of local sector military, which were limited in size. Palpatine’s now got a standing military that can grow generationally and is just assumed to be part of the government, specifically under control of the executive/imperial branch.
It’s possible that the Senate retained the ability to amend what Palpatine could do with the military, not entirely unlike the USA’s War Powers act, where the President can order the military to take action for up to 60 days, but at that time, if the President is waging a war, it needs to be declared by Congress. There may not be a time limit on Palpatine’s powers, but there may be Senatorial oversight where they can vote to override something he’s committed the military to do.
In the United States, according to the Constitution, Congress gets to declare war, the President gets to command troops. Because of global conflicts like the World Wars, the President’s ability to act and react militarily unofficially expanded to allow for military deployment without actually declaring war. Also keep in mind that after World War II, the military had nukes, and the President controlled the military, meaning that, while unlikely, the President could maybe even nuke someone if they framed it as “not a war.” Instead of just being in control of the military in war time, the President now had organizations like the NSA and the CIA who are additional aspects of “national security.”
Neither the Korean War nor the Vietnam War were actually, technically, wars, and the War Powers act was a means of keeping the President from doing things like, I don’t know, sending troops into Cambodia to undermine North Vietnam’s supply lines which led to the Khmer Rouge killing about two million people. But both the President and the Emperor can get a lot done in the time between ordering military action and the response of the Congress/Senate to reign in that power. Also, it’s probably worth looking at the bit about the President potentially nuking someone without getting approval to declare war when thinking about Palpatine.
Structures and Power Blocks
It is also important to look at the structure of the galaxy and how that played into Palpatine’s abilities and influence. The galaxy in Star Wars has these broad categories:
- Deep Core
- Core Worlds
- Colonies
- Inner Rim Territories
- Expansion Region
- Mid Rim Territories
- Outer Rim Territories
- Unknown Regions
- Wild Space
We’ve got a few of these that “don’t count” when looking at the big picture. Wild Space is out there without much knowledge regarding the region. The Unknown Regions are broadly mapped but with little contact with any of the worlds inside it, from the Galactic Empire’s point of view. The Deep Core is a bunch of densely packed systems at the center of the galaxy that are just kind of there, and a pain to get to due to a massive black hole in the middle of the galaxy. But it’s a good place to hide things if you have mapped a hyperspace route to that place.
The Core Worlds are the oldest, most established worlds in the Empire. These are the wealthiest and most influential sectors. What that means from a galactic political standpoint is that if you keep turmoil from coming to the Core Worlds, it’s really easy for the Core Worlds to act like there isn’t any turmoil. This is where you have places like Alderaan, Corellia, Kuat, and Chandrila. If Palpatine loses these, he loses the money and the means of production. For example, Kuat and Corellia are major shipyards.
The Colonies, Inner Rim, and the Expansion region are all very similar to the Core by Palpatine’s time, wealthy compared to the rest of the galaxy except the Core, and fairly comfortable. The main difference is that the social pecking order of who’s important goes from Core, to Colonies, to Inner Rim, to Expansion region. Even though the galaxy is organized into a Republic just prior to Palpatine’s transformation of it into an Empire, there are a lot of Core Worlds that retain symbolic noble titles, and that fades a bit the further out you go.
The Mid Rim was the edge of the Republic for a long time. This is the region that is usually pretty comfortable but is more prone to dealing with uprisings and pirate raiders. In other words, this is the region of the Empire that you control by making sure they feel like they need the military watching over them because what’s beyond the Mid Rim is scary and dangerous.
For a lot of the Outer Rim’s existence, very few systems were part of the Republic or the Empire. You may have powerful sector-wide governments, but nothing centralized, and varying degrees of living conditions. This is the region where the Republic and later the Empire could buy goods and services that weren’t produced under the enlightened law of galactic society. “Hey, it’s not up to us to worry about if this was made by enslaved sentients, we’re just conducting trade with part of the galaxy we don’t control.”
You have some of the wealthier parts of the Outer Rim trying to get in on the official structure of galactic government, so you had places like Eriadu, where Tarkin is from, joining up, while still kind of doing things their own way, i.e. holding on to a military larger than the Republic allowed. The galaxy knows a lot of locations in the Outer Rim, and they only control the parts of it that are beneficial to officially control and allow the rest to do whatever they may do that is still conducive to trade with the Republic/Empire.
More of the Outer Rim was officially part of the Republic, and then the Empire, after the Clone Wars. Lots of military outposts were consolidated, lots of areas were incorporated either into the Republic or the CIS during the Clone Wars to keep resources or strategic locations from the other side, and in the end, obviously, whatever the Republic or the CIS annexed ends up being part of the Empire. The Outer Rim has lots of resources, less traditional wealth, and very little power on the galactic stage, because so many regions of the Outer Rim are isolated from one another. These are the people that get exploited the most by the rest of the galaxy. Places like Mon Cala or Eriadu manage to get some degree of official recognition earlier in galactic history, but people like the inhabitants of Ryloth get dumped on hard.
Another thing that’s part of the Outer Rim is the Corporate Sector, a region of space where the Empire lets the corporations run things “for the good of trade.” They are part of the Empire, but don’t have to play by its rules, so long as they provide value to the Empire and don’t cause trouble outside of their sphere of influence. This is where Canto Bight is located, and even in the New Republic era, it was still run by the corporations. The Corporate Sector was part of the Separatists during the Clone Wars, but mainly so they could sell to both sides, a proud tradition it continued through the Galactic Civil War and the First Order-Resistance War. Corporations are not your friends; they just want your money or your labor.
Strategy
That means Palpatine’s political strategy is to keep the Core Worlds, Colonies, Inner Rim, and Expansion regions rich and comfortable, keep the Mid Rim afraid of everything that isn’t the above region of the galaxy, and keep the Outer Rim from having much political leverage to complain about their exploitation. That also means you don’t want to crack down on the Hutts, Black Sun, or the Pykes too hard, because you need them to scare the Mid Rim and destabilize the legitimate power bases of the Outer Rim. You need to keep enough of a military presence in the Mid Rim that they appreciate it, but you don’t use it effectively enough to make them feel like it’s done doing its job.
All of this is great, except that the Senate can still overrule you if they stay unified, and if you play up their regional differences, they start feeling too independent. How do you manage that? Well, thankfully, the other aspect of the special powers granted during the Clone Wars to Palpatine was the installation of Regional Governors. These are people that aren’t elected, they’re appointed by the Chancellor/Emperor, and they get to make big regional decisions that stand unless formally rescinded by the Senate. This “streamlines” the operation of the galaxy to ensure that debate and petty differences don’t keep the galaxy from working as a well-oiled machine.
Most of the regional governors just need to do enough so that Palpatine doesn’t need to worry about getting something to pass in the Senate, but not enough to get the Senate to revisit the decisions the Regional Governors have made. That also means that if those Regional Governors make a decision that screws over one little, tiny system within a sector, who’s going to worry about correcting that? You just need to make sure those tiny little systems don’t add up too fast, before they get used to the idea that they weren’t screwed over, it’s just the status quo being maintained.
Palpatine’s Toolbox, Revisited
So, by the time the first Death Star was created, Palpatine had the following assets:
- A government-wide security agency that nobody thinks much about until it’s used (the ISA)
- An organization that suppresses religious thought that doesn’t align with the religious thoughts of the Emperor (the Inquisition)
- The ability to restructure the military to make sure the right people are in the right positions
- The ability to deploy the military if doing so is relatively quick and decisive
- The ability to spend a ton of money on the military without anyone looking at exactly where that money goes, just the total amount spent
- Appointed positions across the galaxy that can directly implement the Emperor’s will, as long as they do so at a pace that doesn’t rouse the Senate to action
- A scary border where you can convince a significant portion of your population that whatever is past that border needs to be constrained by government power
All of that is powerful out of the gate, but it’s understandable that you don’t want to play your hand too early. If you tell the comfortable part of the galaxy that they aren’t special, they might be able to see that they have more solidarity with the Mid and Outer Rims. If you make the Mid Rim too safe, the Mid Rim might join with the comfortable folk and decide that maybe you don’t need a huge military, and it’s time to start reigning in the budget and revisiting those special powers you’ve had since the Clone Wars.
Compounded Efforts Over Time
On the other hand, after almost twenty years of work, you have a security agency that can kill, imprison, and torture anyone you need on a concentrated scale. You have everyone important in the military chain of command that’s loyal to you and not the government at large. You have a military that has been building and recruiting on a scale larger than you did during the Clone Wars, and as long as you keep the spending spread out, it’s hard for any one branch of the military to be impeded. You have external factors like the Hutts that know exactly how much they can get away with to keep the population scared of them. You have regional governors that can implement your will in a manner that people have become accustomed to for almost two decades, to where locals look to them before their normal political structures for support.
Once you have all of that in effect long enough that people are used to you having that authority, and they know they can’t oust you from office, it becomes pretty easy to just remove one branch of government, because they’ve been ineffective and functionally unimportant for decades. People are almost relieved that a non-functioning thing has suddenly changed, because maybe if you get rid of something that doesn’t work, whatever comes next will be better.
Transitioning a Republic to an Empire
I would really hate to see an executive officer of a government that couldn’t be removed from office or censured in any real way, assisted by appointed government officials that can declare their will to be law outside of the structure of representative government, being able to use the threat of prosecution, incarceration, or death to cow their political adversaries. It would be terrible if there were some kind of protocol detailing an important aspect of their plans to consolidate power that people were desperate to inform others about, which managed to get ignored or suppressed whenever it came close to being exposed. It would be tragic if people that are comfortable ignored the threat that individual posed and took no action, or if part of the population were to be so controlled by their fears of the other that they don’t care what that absolute power means for the good of everyone. It would be devastating if laws began to favor the singular sanctioned religion approved by the singular head of government.
Anyway, I’m glad I felt like writing about Star Wars today and not politics. Can you imagine if Star Wars were political?
https://whatdoiknowjr.com/2024/07/13/the-completely-apolitical-story-of-palpatines-rise-to-power/
#AllianceToRestoreTheRepublic #CloneWars #ConfederationOfIndependentSystems #CoreWorlds #Disney #Empire #ff0000 #InnerRim #MidRim #Movies #OuterRim #Politics #Rebellion #SpoilersThisIsAboutTrump #StarWars
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Advent Calendar – 2025 – Detail Dialog – Part 1
Classification and objectives from a UI perspective
Today’s Advent Calendar Day focuses specifically on the interaction level prepared in the previous parts. While the basic structure of the user interface and the layout were defined at the beginning, and the interactive table view with sorting, filtering and dynamic actions was subsequently established, it is now a matter of making the transition from overview to detailed observation consistent. The user should no longer only see a tabular collection of data points, but should receive a view tailored to the respective object that enables contextual actions.
- Classification and objectives from a UI perspective
- OverviewView: Interactive enhancements
- Detail view as a standalone UI component (DetailsDialog)
- CreateView: Expiration date in the UI
- Navigation and package structure
- Interaction patterns and UX coherence
The source code for this version can be found on GitHub at https://github.com/svenruppert/url-shortener/tree/feature/advent-2025-day-03
Here’s the screenshot of the version we’re implementing now.
The central goal of this chapter is to improve the user experience without sacrificing the simplicity of what has been done so far. The interface is extended with a detailed view implemented as a standalone dialogue, thereby deliberately creating a clear framework between the overall list and the individual object. This decision follows the principle of the cognitive separation of information spaces: an overview serves to orient and find relevant entries. At the same time, the detailed view creates an isolated, focused working environment.
From an architectural point of view, this extension is an essential step towards a component-oriented UI in which each functional unit – such as creating, displaying or deleting short links – is represented by its own, clearly defined components. The new dialogue includes all the necessary UI elements, validations, and event flows for displaying and interacting with a single ShortUrlMapping object. This decoupling not only enables better testability and reusability but also reduces the cognitive overhead in the primary grid, which previously had to record all interactions directly.
The dialogue serves as an interactive interface between the visual representation and the underlying data model. It reflects the current object, provides copy and navigation actions, and provides visual feedback on the entry’s status – for example, via a colour-coded expiration date. This modular structure allows the user to check details, perform actions, or remove erroneous entries without losing the application’s context.
OverviewView: Interactive enhancements
With the third expansion stage of the user interface, the previous list view is not only expanded, but also functionally upgraded. The OverviewView forms the foundation of the daily work with the created short links and is supplemented in this step by several mechanisms that make the behaviour of the application more natural and efficient.
A central aspect concerns the reactivity of the search fields. In previous versions, search queries were triggered immediately after each input, which was technically correct but inefficient in practice, using the ValueChangeMode.LAZY, in combination with a 400-millisecond delay, the system does not react until the user has completed their input. This delay serves as a natural “pause for thought” and prevents unnecessary updates to the grid. In addition, the enter-key flow has been activated so that a targeted search confirmation can be performed via the keyboard – a typical usage pattern in the professional environment.
codePart.setValueChangeMode(ValueChangeMode.LAZY);codePart.setValueChangeTimeout(400);codePart.addValueChangeListener(e -> refresh());urlPart.setValueChangeMode(ValueChangeMode.LAZY);urlPart.setValueChangeTimeout(400);urlPart.addValueChangeListener(e -> refresh());A second improvement concerns the variety of interactions in the grid. Instead of acting exclusively via buttons, the user can now open a data record by double-clicking or pressing Enter. This form of interaction is not only faster, but also meets the expectations you are used to from desktop applications. To further simplify operation, a context menu has been added that automatically offers the appropriate actions when right-clicking: View details, open target URL, copy shortcode, or delete the entry.
grid.addItemDoubleClickListener(ev -> openDetailsDialog(ev.getItem()));grid.addItemClickListener(ev -> { if (ev.getClickCount() == 2) openDetailsDialog(ev.getItem());});GridContextMenu<ShortUrlMapping> menu = new GridContextMenu<>(grid);menu.addItem("Show details", e -> e.getItem().ifPresent(this::openDetailsDialog));menu.addItem("Open URL", e -> e.getItem().ifPresent(m -> UI.getCurrent().getPage().open(m.originalUrl(), "_blank")));menu.addItem("Copy shortcode", e -> e.getItem().ifPresent(m -> UI.getCurrent().getPage().executeJs("navigator.clipboard.writeText($0)", m.shortCode())));menu.addItem("Delete...", e -> e.getItem().ifPresent(m -> confirmDelete(m.shortCode())));In addition to functionality, the grid column layout has been revised. The shortcode is now displayed in a monospace font, which makes it easier to quickly grasp and compare visually. In addition, a small copy symbol allows copying the entire short link to the clipboard with a mouse click. JavaScript is used to call up the browser’s native clipboard service.
grid.addComponentColumn(m -> { var code = new Span(m.shortCode()); code.getStyle().set("font-family", "ui-monospace, SFMono-Regular, Menlo, Monaco, Consolas, monospace"); var copy = new Button(new Icon(VaadinIcon.COPY)); copy.addThemeVariants(ButtonVariant.LUMO_TERTIARY_INLINE); copy.getElement().setProperty("title", "Copy ShortUrl"); copy.addClickListener(_ -> { UI.getCurrent().getPage().executeJs("navigator.clipboard.writeText($0)", SHORTCODE_BASE_URL + m.shortCode()); Notification.show("Shortcode copied"); }); var wrap = new HorizontalLayout(code, copy); wrap.setSpacing(true); wrap.setPadding(false); return wrap;}).setHeader("Shortcode").setAutoWidth(true).setFrozen(true).setResizable(true).setFlexGrow(0);In the column with the original URL, the layout has been changed to an elliptical display : Long URLs are truncated, but remain fully visible via the tooltip. This detail improves readability without losing information.
grid.addComponentColumn(m -> { var a = new Anchor(m.originalUrl(), m.originalUrl()); a.setTarget("_blank"); a.getStyle() .set("white-space", "nowrap") .set("overflow", "hidden") .set("text-overflow", "ellipsis") .set("display", "inline-block") .set("max-width", "100%"); a.getElement().setProperty("title", m.originalUrl()); return a;}).setHeader("URL").setFlexGrow(1).setResizable(true);Particularly noteworthy is the new Expires column, which colour-coded status indicators have visually supplemented. These are based on Lumo badges and show the remaining time until a link expires: green for active, yellow for expiring soon, and red for expired.
grid.addComponentColumn(m -> { var pill = new Span(m.expiresAt() .map(ts -> { var days = Duration.between(Instant.now(), ts).toDays(); if (days < 0) return "Expired"; if (days == 0) return "Today"; return "in " + days + " days"; }).orElse("No expiry")); pill.getElement().getThemeList().add("badge pill small"); m.expiresAt().ifPresent(ts -> { long d = Duration.between(Instant.now(), ts).toDays(); if (d < 0) pill.getElement().getThemeList().add("error"); else if (d <= 3) pill.getElement().getThemeList().add("warning"); else pill.getElement().getThemeList().add("success"); }); return pill;}).setHeader("Expires").setAutoWidth(true).setResizable(true).setFlexGrow(0);Finally, the display’s ergonomics have been improved. The grid now works with reduced vertical spacing (compact mode) while retaining its readability thanks to alternating line colours. The line height has been adjusted so that as many entries as possible remain visible even on smaller monitors without making the UI look overloaded.
With these changes, the OverviewView is transformed from a purely management view into a central control tool that provides both a quick overview and deep interaction. This lays the foundation for integrating the detail dialogue – it complements this view with an object-related perspective, while the OverviewView continues to serve as the starting point for navigation.
Detail view as a standalone UI component (DetailsDialog)
Now that the overview list has been expanded with interactive functions, the next logical step is to introduce a standalone UI component focused on the display and management of individual datasets. The goal is to create a modular and reusable view that operates independently of the main view but communicates with it via clearly defined events.
The dialogue is based on Vaadin’s Dialogue class and opens for each selected ShortUrlMapping object. In doing so, it reads out all relevant properties of the passed object – shortcode, target URL, creation time and, optionally, the expiration date. These values are presented in a clearly structured format, supplemented by action buttons to open, copy and delete the entry.
The following excerpt shows the basic structure of the dialogue:
public class DetailsDialog extends Dialog implements HasLogger { public static final ZoneId ZONE = ZoneId.systemDefault(); private static final DateTimeFormatter DATE_TIME_FMT = DateTimeFormatter.ofPattern("dd.MM.yyyy HH:mm").withZone(ZONE); private final String shortCode; private final String originalUrl; private final Instant createdAt; private final Optional<Instant> expiresAt; private final TextField tfShort = new TextField("Shortcode"); private final TextField tfUrl = new TextField("Original URL"); private final TextField tfCreated = new TextField("Created on"); private final TextField tfExpires = new TextField("Expires"); private final Span statusPill = new Span(); private final Button openBtn = new Button("Open", new Icon(VaadinIcon.EXTERNAL_LINK)); private final Button copyShortBtn = new Button("Copy ShortURL", new Icon(VaadinIcon.COPY)); private final Button copyUrlBtn = new Button("Copy URL", new Icon(VaadinIcon.COPY)); private final Button deleteBtn = new Button("Delete...", new Icon(VaadinIcon.TRASH)); private final Button closeBtn = new Button("Close"); public DetailsDialog(ShortUrlMapping mapping) { Objects.requireNonNull(mapping, "mapping"); this.shortCode = mapping.shortCode(); this.originalUrl = mapping.originalUrl(); this.createdAt = mapping.createdAt(); this.expiresAt = mapping.expiresAt(); setHeaderTitle("Details: " + shortCode); setModal(true); setDraggable(true); setResizable(true); setWidth("720px"); openBtn.addThemeVariants(ButtonVariant.LUMO_PRIMARY); deleteBtn.addThemeVariants(ButtonVariant.LUMO_ERROR, ButtonVariant.LUMO_TERTIARY); var headerActions = new HorizontalLayout(openBtn, copyShortBtn, copyUrlBtn, deleteBtn); getHeader().add(headerActions); configureFields(); var form = new FormLayout(); form.add(tfShort, tfUrl, tfCreated, tfExpires, statusPill); form.setColspan(tfUrl, 2); add(form); closeBtn.addClickListener(e -> close()); getFooter().add(closeBtn); wireActions(); }It is already clear here that the dialogue has a high degree of independence. It initialises its contents directly from the passed data object and uses a FormLayout to structure the fields. The input fields are read-only by default because the dialogue is used primarily for display.
The visual feedback on the expiration status is provided by a so-called status pill, which indicates in colour and text whether a short link is still active, about to expire or has already expired. This is done via a small helper method that provides a status description including a colour scheme:
private status computeStatusText() { return expiresAt.map(ts -> { long d = Duration.between(Instant.now(), ts).toDays(); if (d < 0) return new Status("Expired", "error"); if (d == 0) return new Status("Expires today", "warning"); if (d <= 3) return new Status("Expires in " + d + " days", "warning"); return new Status("Valid(" + d + " days left)", "success"); }).orElse(new Status("No expiry", "contrast"));}This status calculation complements the visual feedback from the summary table and provides a consistent representation across the entire application.
The real added value of the DetailsDialog lies in its event-orientation. Instead of the calling view (OverviewView) controlling all actions itself, the actions are defined as Vaadin events. This allows the dialogue to send signals such as OpenEvent, CopyShortcodeEvent, CopyUrlEvent or DeleteEvent to its environment without knowing what they mean:
public static class DeleteEvent extends ComponentEvent<DetailsDialog> { public final String shortCode; public DeleteEvent(DetailsDialog src, String sc) { super(src); this.shortCode = sc; }}In the OverviewView , these events are received and processed:
var dlg = new DetailsDialog(item);dlg.addDeleteListener(ev -> confirmDelete(ev.shortCode));dlg.addOpenListener(ev -> logger().info("Open URL {}", ev.originalUrl));dlg.addCopyShortListener(ev -> logger().info("Copied shortcode {}", ev.shortCode));dlg.addCopyUrlListener(ev -> logger().info("Copied URL {}", ev.url));dlg.open();This creates an apparent decoupling between the presentation and application logic. Dialogue handles representation and interaction; the surrounding view determines how to respond to events.
In summary, the DetailsDialog establishes an architectural principle that goes beyond the specific use case. The combination of a modular UI component, declarative events and a clearly defined data model not only makes the application more flexible, but also more maintainable in the long term. The user benefits from a coherent, clearly structured, detailed view, which makes working with individual entries much more convenient and transparent.
CreateView: Expiration date in the UI
With this step, the creation of new short links receives an important semantic addition: the optional expiration date. The aim is to precisely define the intended service life at the time of creation and to transport this information end-to-end – from the UI to the client to the server and into the persistence.
From a UI point of view, the existing CreateView is extended with DatePicker and TimePicker, flanked by a checkbox labelled “No expiry”. This combination allows both the explicit determination of an end date and the conscious decision to set an unlimited validity. A small but crucial UX rule: the time will remain disabled until a date is selected, and both fields will be disabled if “No expiry” is enabled.
Fields and Basic Configuration
private final TextField urlField = new TextField("Target URL");private final TextField aliasField = new TextField("Alias (optional)");private final Button shortenButton = new Button("Shorten");private final DatePicker expiresDate = new DatePicker("Expires (date)");private final TimePicker expiresTime = new TimePicker("Expires (time)");private final Checkbox noExpiry = new Checkbox("No expiry");private final FormLayout form = new FormLayout();public CreateView() { setSpacing(true); setPadding(true); urlField.setWidthFull(); aliasField.setWidth("300px"); shortenButton.addThemeVariants(ButtonVariant.LUMO_PRIMARY); form.add(urlField, aliasField); configureExpiryFields(); form.setResponsiveSteps( new FormLayout.ResponsiveStep("0", 1), new FormLayout.ResponsiveStep("600px", 2) ); form.setColspan(urlField, 2); var actions = new HorizontalLayout(shortenButton); actions.setAlignItems(Alignment.END); Binder for validations Binder<ShortenRequest> binder = new Binder<>(ShortenRequest.class); ShortenRequest request = new ShortenRequest(); binder.forField(urlField) .asRequired("URL must not be empty") .withValidator(url -> url.startsWith("http://") || url.startsWith("https://"), "Only HTTP(S) URLs allowed") .bind(ShortenRequest::getUrl, ShortenRequest::setUrl); binder.forField(aliasField) .withValidator(a -> a == null || a.isBlank() || a.length() <= AliasPolicy.MAX, "Alias is too long (max " + AliasPolicy.MAX + ")") .withValidator(a -> a == null || a.isBlank() || a.matches(REGEX_ALLOWED), "Only [A-Za-z0-9_-] allowed") .bind(ShortenRequest::getShortURL, ShortenRequest::setShortURL); shortenButton.addClickListener(_ -> { var validated = binder.validate(); if (validated.hasErrors()) return; if (!validateExpiryInFuture()) return; if (binder.writeBeanIfValid(request)) { computeExpiresAt().ifPresent(request::setExpiresAt); var code = createShortCode(request, computeExpiresAt()); code.ifPresentOrElse(c -> { Notification.show("Short link created: " + c); clearForm(binder); }, () -> Notification.show("Alias already assigned or error saving", 3000, Notification.Position.MIDDLE)); } }); add(new H2("Create new short link"), form, actions);}Encapsulating process logic in small auxiliary methods improves readability and testability. The calculation uses the local time zone and provides an instant that can be processed unchanged on the server side.
private static final ZoneId ZONE = ZoneId.systemDefault();private void configureExpiryFields() { expiresDate.setClearButtonVisible(true); expiresDate.setPlaceholder("dd.MM.yyyy"); expiresTime.setStep(Duration.ofMinutes(1)); expiresTime.setPlaceholder("HH:mm"); Activate time only when a date is set expiresTime.setEnabled(false); expiresDate.addValueChangeListener(ev -> { boolean hasDate = ev.getValue() != null; expiresTime.setEnabled(hasDate && !noExpiry.getValue()); }); noExpiry.addValueChangeListener(ev -> { boolean disabled = ev.getValue(); expiresDate.setEnabled(!disabled); expiresTime.setEnabled(!disabled && expiresDate.getValue() != null); }); form.add(noExpiry, expiresDate, expiresTime);}private Optional<Instant> computeExpiresAt() { if (Boolean.TRUE.equals(noExpiry.getValue())) return Optional.empty(); LocalDate d = expiresDate.getValue(); LocalTime t = expiresTime.getValue(); if (d == null || t == null) return Optional.empty(); return Optional.of(ZonedDateTime.of(d, t, ZONE).toInstant());}private boolean validateExpiryInFuture() { var exp = computeExpiresAt(); if (exp.isPresent() && exp.get().isBefore(Instant.now())) { Notification.show("Expiry must be in the future"); return false; } return true;}private void clearForm(Binder<ShortenRequest> binder) { urlField.clear(); aliasField.clear(); noExpiry.clear(); expiresDate.clear(); expiresTime.clear(); binder.setBean(new ShortenRequest()); urlField.setInvalid(false); aliasField.setInvalid(false);}It is important to pass it on transparently to the client. Instead of storing the time in the UI, it is transmitted to the server in the request. To do this, the CreateView calls the client with the extended signature. The client validates only if an alias is set and passes the data to the server unchanged.
private Optional<String> createShortCode(ShortenRequest req, Optional<Instant> expiresAt) { logger().info("createShortCode with ShortenRequest '{}'", req); try { var customMapping = urlShortenerClient.createCustomMapping(req.getShortURL(), req.getUrl(), expiresAt.orElse(null)); return Optional.ofNullable(customMapping.shortCode()); } catch (IllegalArgumentException | IOException e) { logger().error("Error saving", e); return Optional.empty(); }}On the client side, the payload is serialised as a ShortenRequest and sent to the /shorten endpoint. The response is not limited to the shortcode; it is also parsed as a full ShortUrlMapping. As a result, the UI immediately knows the server-side confirmed state – including the expiresAt.
public ShortUrlMapping createCustomMapping(String alias, String url, Instant expiredAt) throws IOException { logger().info("Create custom mapping alias='{}' url='{}' expiredAt='{}'", alias, url, expiredAt); if (alias != null && !alias.isBlank()) { var validate = AliasPolicy.validate(alias); if (!validate.valid()) { var reason = validate.reason(); throw new IllegalArgumentException(reason.defaultMessage); } } URL shortenUrl = serverBaseAdmin.resolve(PATH_ADMIN_SHORTEN).toURL(); HttpURLConnection connection = (HttpURLConnection) shortenUrl.openConnection(); connection.setRequestMethod("POST"); connection.setDoOutput(true); connection.setRequestProperty(CONTENT_TYPE, JSON_CONTENT_TYPE); var shortenRequest = new ShortenRequest(url, alias, expiredAt); String body = shortenRequest.toJson(); try (OutputStream os = connection.getOutputStream()) { os.write(body.getBytes(UTF_8)); } int status = connection.getResponseCode(); if (status == 200 || status == 201) { try (InputStream is = connection.getInputStream()) { String jsonResponse = new String(is.readAllBytes(), UTF_8); ShortUrlMapping shortUrlMapping = fromJson(jsonResponse, ShortUrlMapping.class); return shortUrlMapping; } } if (status == 409) { throw new IllegalArgumentException("Alias already in use"); } throw new IOException("Unexpected status: " + status);}On the server side, the ShortenHandler receives the extended request, validates the required fields, and then assigns the store to create it. The response contains the complete mapping object that the client and UI can use immediately.
final String body = readBody(ex.getRequestBody());ShortenRequest req = fromJson(body, ShortenRequest.class);if (isNullOrBlank(req.getUrl())) { writeJson(ex, BAD_REQUEST, "Missing 'url'"); return;}final Result<ShortUrlMapping> urlMappingResult = store.createMapping(req.getShortURL(), req.getUrl(), req.getExpiresAt());urlMappingResult .ifPresentOrElse(success -> logger().info("mapping created success {}", success.toString()), failed -> logger().info("mapping created failed - {}", failed));urlMappingResult .ifSuccess(mapping -> { final Headers h = ex.getResponseHeaders(); h.add("Location", "/r/" + mapping.shortCode()); writeJson(ex, fromCode(201), toJson(mapping)); }) .ifFailure(errorJson -> { try { var parsed = JsonUtils.parseJson(errorJson); var errorCode = Integer.parseInt(parsed.get("code")); var message = parsed.get("message"); writeJson(ex, fromCode(errorCode), message); } catch (Exception e) { writeJson(ex, CONFLICT, errorJson); } });In summary, a consistent, end-to-end process is created: The user optionally defines an expiration date when making them, the UI validates basic rules, the client transfers the semantics losslessly, and the server persists them reliably. The OverviewView and the DetailsDialog can then display and interpret this information immediately. This adds a central property to the domain without complicating the existing operating flow.
Navigation and package structure
The previous user interface has become much more complex in terms of content due to the detailed dialogue and the extended form functions. To reflect this development, the package structure in the UI module was clearly reorganised. The goal was not only a logical grouping according to responsibilities, but also a long-term basis for extended navigation concepts and modular extensions.
Previously, the OverviewView was still in the general package com.svenruppert.urlshortener.ui.vaadin.views. With the introduction of detailed dialogue and the growing importance of this area in terms of content, it was included in a separate subpackage, “views.overview“, and moved there. This decision not only creates room for additional components (e.g. context menus, helper dialogues or filters), but also follows the principle of functional coherence: All classes that together form the overview function are now centrally bundled.
In the code, this step is reflected in the customisation of the import within the MainLayout :
old:
import com.svenruppert.urlshortener.ui.vaadin.views.OverviewView;
new:
import com.svenruppert.urlshortener.ui.vaadin.views.overview.OverviewView;
This small but significant step marks the transition from a purely page-based structure to a component-oriented structure. The MainLayout continues to serve as the central navigation element of the application; the individual views are now more decoupled and can be further developed independently. This creates a clear separation between layout logic (central navigation, menus, visual frameworks) and functional logic (display, interaction, data flow).
The route relationships are deliberately kept simple. The OverviewView is still registered under the path /overview and uses the MainLayout as its parent layout element:
@PageTitle Overview@Route(value = OverviewView.PATH, layout = MainLayout.class)public class OverviewView extends VerticalLayout implements HasLogger { public static final String PATH = "overview"; // ...}This configuration keeps navigation consistent with the other parts of the application, such as CreateView, AboutView, or YoutubeView. New views can be easily added without affecting the central navigation mechanism. This ensures maintainability and scalability – two central requirements for an application that grows gradually within the Advent calendar framework.
The MainLayout itself is largely unchanged, but has been updated during the package migration to reflect new imports and menu entries. The referencing of the OverviewView is particularly important, as it represents the entry point of user interaction:
SideNavItem overview = new SideNavItem("Overview", OverviewView.class, VaadinIcon.LIST.create());SideNavItem create = new SideNavItem("Create", CreateView.class, VaadinIcon.PLUS.create());SideNavItem about = new SideNavItem("About", AboutView.class, VaadinIcon.INFO_CIRCLE.create());SideNavItem youtube = new SideNavItem("Youtube", YoutubeView.class, VaadinIcon.YOUTUBE.create());SideNav nav = new SideNav(overview, create, about, youtube);addToDrawer(nav);This clean separation between routing, structure and presentation lays the foundation for the further development of the user interface. Future features – such as detailed filters, user preferences or administrative functions – can be easily integrated into their own subpackages and namespaces without affecting core navigation. This is the step towards a sustainable UI architecture that specifically supports both growing complexity and extensibility.
Interaction patterns and UX coherence
As the application’s feature density increases, the importance of a consistent user experience grows. While the first days of the Advent calendar laid the technical foundation, so far, the focus has been on functionality. In this chapter, the focus shifts to the coherence of interaction patterns, i.e. how users interact with the application in a consistent, predictable rhythm.
Central to this is the goal of establishing uniform behaviour for recurring actions. Whether in the overview, in the detail dialogue or in forms – copying, opening or deleting should always feel the same. The application thus conveys reliability, which is particularly crucial for technical users of web-based tools.
Uniform copying behaviour
A good example is copying URLs and short links. The exact mechanisms are used in both the grid and the detail dialogue: a button with the VaadinIcon.COPY symbol: an asynchronous clipboard action via JavaScript and a discreet confirmation message. This avoids users having to learn different forms of interaction in various views.
copy.addClickListener(_ -> { UI.getCurrent().getPage().executeJs("navigator.clipboard.writeText($0)", SHORTCODE_BASE_URL + m.shortCode()); Notification.show("Shortcode copied");});Such a detail may seem inconspicuous, but it has a significant impact on the perceived professionalism of the application. The feedback system via notifications plays a central role here: The user receives an immediate, unobtrusive signal about the success of his action – a kind of visual receipt that creates trust.
Context menus and multiple interactions
Another element of UX coherence is the context menu in the summary table. It allows access to the same actions, which can also be accessed via buttons or double-clicks. This redundant but deliberate multiple interaction follows the principle of user freedom: Users can choose whether to act via direct icons, the keyboard or the context menu.
GridContextMenu<ShortUrlMapping> menu = new GridContextMenu<>(grid);menu.addItem("Show details", e -> e.getItem().ifPresent(this::openDetailsDialog));menu.addItem("Open URL", e -> e.getItem().ifPresent(m -> UI.getCurrent().getPage().open(m.originalUrl(), "_blank")));menu.addItem("Copy shortcode", e -> e.getItem().ifPresent(m -> UI.getCurrent().getPage().executeJs("navigator.clipboard.writeText($0)", m.shortCode())));menu.addItem("Delete...", e -> e.getItem().ifPresent(m -> confirmDelete(m.shortCode())));The decision to use context menus is not only aesthetic but also ergonomic: it reduces the grid’s optical density without sacrificing functionality. Actions only appear when they are needed – an approach that is essential in complex management interfaces.
Consistency of feedback
A uniform pattern is also followed for error messages and validations. The system does not abruptly abort user actions; instead, it clearly communicates why an input was not accepted. Example: The expiration date cannot be in the past. This rule is conveyed both visually and by message.
if (exp.isPresent() && exp.get().isBefore(Instant.now())) { Notification.show("Expiry must be in the future"); return false;}Accurate feedback prevents the user from perceiving the system as unpredictable. Every validation, every hint, and every success message follows the same communicative style—short, clear, and polite.
HTTPS Requirement for Clipboard
A technical but essential detail is that the Clipboard API only works in modern browsers within secure contexts (HTTPS or localhost). Therefore, the copy feature is deliberately designed to fail elegantly when clipboard access is unavailable. The application does not crash, but responds silently – an aspect that underlines the robustness and professionalism of the user experience.
The mechanisms described in this chapter – consistent feedback, redundant operating options and secure fallbacks – together contribute to a coherent user experience. They form the basis of trust and predictability, two characteristics that are essential as software becomes more complex. Overall, the result is an interface that can be operated intuitively, even as its technical depth in the background continues to increase.
Cheers Sven
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@kendraleonard I do. My methods are for prose editing.
First, and one of the most critical, is do not edit immediately after finishing a book. You can and probably should read it once just to get a sense of the story as a whole (but do not get sucked into editing at this point, Let it sit for a month. This gives you the chance to view it with fresh eyes. This is not wasted time; your brain will be working on it unconsciously.
The first edit is the developmental edit. This is the edit where you concentrate most on the story itself. Are there plot holes, plot points you foreshadowed but forgot to write later, does the story satisfy or did it go off in a wrong direction? Look at pacing, is is too fast or too slow. Carefully consider the first chapter. Does it hook the reader right away and make them want to keep reading? Do you have character growth arcs for your main characters. Are your secondary characters cardboard cut-outs or so they feel like real people? Is there someone that readers will relate to? Have you included enough backstory to make your world feel lived in. If you are writing speculative fiction, have you defined the universe well enough that people will understand what is happening. If it is a series book and not the first one, can a reader who has never read the first one understand what is going on? Do you have enough or too much description? Look at your percentage of telling versus showing. There should be some of both, but showing should be in the majority by a good bit. Are there major inconsistencies? Have you foreshadowed? How well does the book follow the expectations of readers in your genre?
Do not make changes as go in developmental editing. Make notes instead. When you get to making the changes, put up the notes and the document at at he same time and cross off items as you finish them. Remember, in developmental editing, a change may require you to move through many chapters, so don’t cross off too early unless you are sure.
Now on to the other edits. The first polishing edit is next. You look at grammar, word choice, flow of words, run on sentences, etc. If you are not experienced, use a style guide like the Chicago Manual of Style. This will help keep your use of the various rules consistent. This is hard and painful to do at first. But do it anyway. This is also one of the best ways to drill those rules into your head through repetition and it will be much easier in subsequent books to get the rules consistent. But since this is fiction, remember that people do not always talk in grammatically correct sentences. Don’t lose the voice of your characters by adhering too closely to the style guide. The key is to make the choice for someone to speak incorrectly to be deliberate. Understand when you break the rules and why you broke them. Readers can tell the difference between a deliberate breaking of the rules and when the author clearly didn’t understand the rules.
Speaking of conversation, this is where you look at the voice of the characters and their word choices. John and Mary should not speak exactly the same way. Perhaps Mary has more education and her speech is more correct and her vocabulary more extensive. John might use a lot of words and acronyms associated with his profession. Harold might be prone to swearing. Carolyn might be flirty. And so on.
And in this edit, make sure that you have the necessary dialog tags. If you lose track of who is speaking, then the readers certainly will. You don’t have to have dialog tags on every paragraph of dialog especially when only two characters are present. But when you don’t, it should still be clear who is speaking. Dialog tags should 90+% be said, asked, or a sentence about the person speaking. Use other dialog tags sparingly. And make sure that only one person speaks in an individual paragraph. And if a person speaks in multiple paragraphs in a row, look up the rule for how to handle that.
At this point , I usually send out to my beta readers, so they have time to read it while I work on the other edits.
My next edit is to use a software-based check. I use ProWritingAid, but there are others. This will catch a lot of the picky little things your eyes glossed over. They key to using this type of software is to understand that that are not allays correct and even when they are technically correct, it is not always correct for your particular book. Using this kind of edit is all about your judgment. If you follow every suggestion, your book will not work as well. For instance, it will identify sentences as passive voice. And while , yes, you should not use passive voice extensively, there are times when it is the right choice. And there are times when you need it as a short rest from the action. This is where your judgment comes in. My personal rule of thumb is if the person or thing who took the action is not important, let the passive voice stand. But I use less than 10% passive voice sentences. I can afford to be picky about whether I keep them or not. If you have lots of passive voice, fix most of them.
At this point I will be hearing from my beta readers. I will go through their suggestions and decide which ones I will implement. Not all suggestions from beta readers are good ones and multiple beta readers almost certainly means they will have mutually exclusive suggestions. Again, your judgment is key here.
At this point, the book should be in pretty good shape. This is the point where you have someone read the book to you (or let software do it, I get Scrivener to read mine.) Things you should get from this edit are word flow, wrong word choice, repetitive words. In other words, things that just didn’t sound right. I’ve broken up run-on sentences, changed form to from, fixed character names that suddenly morphed (Brian did not change his name to Brain). I’ve realized I used certainly too often.
As you are editing, you might want to take notes as you go on things you might want to check globally. If you misspell a character’s name once, you will want to make sure it didn’t happen again. If you know you are using a particular word, too often, you will want to check all uses of that word. At this point, make those global changes.
Now, one final edit to make sure that you didn’t break anything while editing. For instance, I once moved a paragraph to a new location and forgot to delete it from the old one. And do a little final polishing. You can polish forever, so make this one the last. I find that the sentences I change are ones that bothered me a bit in earlier edits, but I decided not to change. My personal rule is if this is the third time that sentence has bothered me, I will change it even if it is a perfectly good sentence. And, of course, I fix anything I notice is still broken.
#Writing #WritingLife #WritingCommunity #Editing #SelfEditing
-
@kendraleonard I do. My methods are for prose editing.
First, and one of the most critical, is do not edit immediately after finishing a book. You can and probably should read it once just to get a sense of the story as a whole (but do not get sucked into editing at this point, Let it sit for a month. This gives you the chance to view it with fresh eyes. This is not wasted time; your brain will be working on it unconsciously.
The first edit is the developmental edit. This is the edit where you concentrate most on the story itself. Are there plot holes, plot points you foreshadowed but forgot to write later, does the story satisfy or did it go off in a wrong direction? Look at pacing, is is too fast or too slow. Carefully consider the first chapter. Does it hook the reader right away and make them want to keep reading? Do you have character growth arcs for your main characters. Are your secondary characters cardboard cut-outs or so they feel like real people? Is there someone that readers will relate to? Have you included enough backstory to make your world feel lived in. If you are writing speculative fiction, have you defined the universe well enough that people will understand what is happening. If it is a series book and not the first one, can a reader who has never read the first one understand what is going on? Do you have enough or too much description? Look at your percentage of telling versus showing. There should be some of both, but showing should be in the majority by a good bit. Are there major inconsistencies? Have you foreshadowed? How well does the book follow the expectations of readers in your genre?
Do not make changes as go in developmental editing. Make notes instead. When you get to making the changes, put up the notes and the document at at he same time and cross off items as you finish them. Remember, in developmental editing, a change may require you to move through many chapters, so don’t cross off too early unless you are sure.
Now on to the other edits. The first polishing edit is next. You look at grammar, word choice, flow of words, run on sentences, etc. If you are not experienced, use a style guide like the Chicago Manual of Style. This will help keep your use of the various rules consistent. This is hard and painful to do at first. But do it anyway. This is also one of the best ways to drill those rules into your head through repetition and it will be much easier in subsequent books to get the rules consistent. But since this is fiction, remember that people do not always talk in grammatically correct sentences. Don’t lose the voice of your characters by adhering too closely to the style guide. The key is to make the choice for someone to speak incorrectly to be deliberate. Understand when you break the rules and why you broke them. Readers can tell the difference between a deliberate breaking of the rules and when the author clearly didn’t understand the rules.
Speaking of conversation, this is where you look at the voice of the characters and their word choices. John and Mary should not speak exactly the same way. Perhaps Mary has more education and her speech is more correct and her vocabulary more extensive. John might use a lot of words and acronyms associated with his profession. Harold might be prone to swearing. Carolyn might be flirty. And so on.
And in this edit, make sure that you have the necessary dialog tags. If you lose track of who is speaking, then the readers certainly will. You don’t have to have dialog tags on every paragraph of dialog especially when only two characters are present. But when you don’t, it should still be clear who is speaking. Dialog tags should 90+% be said, asked, or a sentence about the person speaking. Use other dialog tags sparingly. And make sure that only one person speaks in an individual paragraph. And if a person speaks in multiple paragraphs in a row, look up the rule for how to handle that.
At this point , I usually send out to my beta readers, so they have time to read it while I work on the other edits.
My next edit is to use a software-based check. I use ProWritingAid, but there are others. This will catch a lot of the picky little things your eyes glossed over. They key to using this type of software is to understand that that are not allays correct and even when they are technically correct, it is not always correct for your particular book. Using this kind of edit is all about your judgment. If you follow every suggestion, your book will not work as well. For instance, it will identify sentences as passive voice. And while , yes, you should not use passive voice extensively, there are times when it is the right choice. And there are times when you need it as a short rest from the action. This is where your judgment comes in. My personal rule of thumb is if the person or thing who took the action is not important, let the passive voice stand. But I use less than 10% passive voice sentences. I can afford to be picky about whether I keep them or not. If you have lots of passive voice, fix most of them.
At this point I will be hearing from my beta readers. I will go through their suggestions and decide which ones I will implement. Not all suggestions from beta readers are good ones and multiple beta readers almost certainly means they will have mutually exclusive suggestions. Again, your judgment is key here.
At this point, the book should be in pretty good shape. This is the point where you have someone read the book to you (or let software do it, I get Scrivener to read mine.) Things you should get from this edit are word flow, wrong word choice, repetitive words. In other words, things that just didn’t sound right. I’ve broken up run-on sentences, changed form to from, fixed character names that suddenly morphed (Brian did not change his name to Brain). I’ve realized I used certainly too often.
As you are editing, you might want to take notes as you go on things you might want to check globally. If you misspell a character’s name once, you will want to make sure it didn’t happen again. If you know you are using a particular word, too often, you will want to check all uses of that word. At this point, make those global changes.
Now, one final edit to make sure that you didn’t break anything while editing. For instance, I once moved a paragraph to a new location and forgot to delete it from the old one. And do a little final polishing. You can polish forever, so make this one the last. I find that the sentences I change are ones that bothered me a bit in earlier edits, but I decided not to change. My personal rule is if this is the third time that sentence has bothered me, I will change it even if it is a perfectly good sentence. And, of course, I fix anything I notice is still broken.
#Writing #WritingLife #WritingCommunity #Editing #SelfEditing
-
@kendraleonard I do. My methods are for prose editing.
First, and one of the most critical, is do not edit immediately after finishing a book. You can and probably should read it once just to get a sense of the story as a whole (but do not get sucked into editing at this point, Let it sit for a month. This gives you the chance to view it with fresh eyes. This is not wasted time; your brain will be working on it unconsciously.
The first edit is the developmental edit. This is the edit where you concentrate most on the story itself. Are there plot holes, plot points you foreshadowed but forgot to write later, does the story satisfy or did it go off in a wrong direction? Look at pacing, is is too fast or too slow. Carefully consider the first chapter. Does it hook the reader right away and make them want to keep reading? Do you have character growth arcs for your main characters. Are your secondary characters cardboard cut-outs or so they feel like real people? Is there someone that readers will relate to? Have you included enough backstory to make your world feel lived in. If you are writing speculative fiction, have you defined the universe well enough that people will understand what is happening. If it is a series book and not the first one, can a reader who has never read the first one understand what is going on? Do you have enough or too much description? Look at your percentage of telling versus showing. There should be some of both, but showing should be in the majority by a good bit. Are there major inconsistencies? Have you foreshadowed? How well does the book follow the expectations of readers in your genre?
Do not make changes as go in developmental editing. Make notes instead. When you get to making the changes, put up the notes and the document at at he same time and cross off items as you finish them. Remember, in developmental editing, a change may require you to move through many chapters, so don’t cross off too early unless you are sure.
Now on to the other edits. The first polishing edit is next. You look at grammar, word choice, flow of words, run on sentences, etc. If you are not experienced, use a style guide like the Chicago Manual of Style. This will help keep your use of the various rules consistent. This is hard and painful to do at first. But do it anyway. This is also one of the best ways to drill those rules into your head through repetition and it will be much easier in subsequent books to get the rules consistent. But since this is fiction, remember that people do not always talk in grammatically correct sentences. Don’t lose the voice of your characters by adhering too closely to the style guide. The key is to make the choice for someone to speak incorrectly to be deliberate. Understand when you break the rules and why you broke them. Readers can tell the difference between a deliberate breaking of the rules and when the author clearly didn’t understand the rules.
Speaking of conversation, this is where you look at the voice of the characters and their word choices. John and Mary should not speak exactly the same way. Perhaps Mary has more education and her speech is more correct and her vocabulary more extensive. John might use a lot of words and acronyms associated with his profession. Harold might be prone to swearing. Carolyn might be flirty. And so on.
And in this edit, make sure that you have the necessary dialog tags. If you lose track of who is speaking, then the readers certainly will. You don’t have to have dialog tags on every paragraph of dialog especially when only two characters are present. But when you don’t, it should still be clear who is speaking. Dialog tags should 90+% be said, asked, or a sentence about the person speaking. Use other dialog tags sparingly. And make sure that only one person speaks in an individual paragraph. And if a person speaks in multiple paragraphs in a row, look up the rule for how to handle that.
At this point , I usually send out to my beta readers, so they have time to read it while I work on the other edits.
My next edit is to use a software-based check. I use ProWritingAid, but there are others. This will catch a lot of the picky little things your eyes glossed over. They key to using this type of software is to understand that that are not allays correct and even when they are technically correct, it is not always correct for your particular book. Using this kind of edit is all about your judgment. If you follow every suggestion, your book will not work as well. For instance, it will identify sentences as passive voice. And while , yes, you should not use passive voice extensively, there are times when it is the right choice. And there are times when you need it as a short rest from the action. This is where your judgment comes in. My personal rule of thumb is if the person or thing who took the action is not important, let the passive voice stand. But I use less than 10% passive voice sentences. I can afford to be picky about whether I keep them or not. If you have lots of passive voice, fix most of them.
At this point I will be hearing from my beta readers. I will go through their suggestions and decide which ones I will implement. Not all suggestions from beta readers are good ones and multiple beta readers almost certainly means they will have mutually exclusive suggestions. Again, your judgment is key here.
At this point, the book should be in pretty good shape. This is the point where you have someone read the book to you (or let software do it, I get Scrivener to read mine.) Things you should get from this edit are word flow, wrong word choice, repetitive words. In other words, things that just didn’t sound right. I’ve broken up run-on sentences, changed form to from, fixed character names that suddenly morphed (Brian did not change his name to Brain). I’ve realized I used certainly too often.
As you are editing, you might want to take notes as you go on things you might want to check globally. If you misspell a character’s name once, you will want to make sure it didn’t happen again. If you know you are using a particular word, too often, you will want to check all uses of that word. At this point, make those global changes.
Now, one final edit to make sure that you didn’t break anything while editing. For instance, I once moved a paragraph to a new location and forgot to delete it from the old one. And do a little final polishing. You can polish forever, so make this one the last. I find that the sentences I change are ones that bothered me a bit in earlier edits, but I decided not to change. My personal rule is if this is the third time that sentence has bothered me, I will change it even if it is a perfectly good sentence. And, of course, I fix anything I notice is still broken.
#Writing #WritingLife #WritingCommunity #Editing #SelfEditing
-
When the Wolf Comes Home by Nat Cassidy
Hello beautiful people! Welcome to a new review! For this review, I get into horror writer Nat Cassidy’s creepy and hard-to-put-down book, When the Wolf Comes Home. While not the first of his reads I have picked up, I really enjoyed this one and found it to be unique, scary, and riveting. It made me really look forward to checking out more of his books in the future.
Main Characters
Jess: Our main girl and, honestly, one of my favourite parts of this book, she’s messy, flawed, and emotional. Her empathy drives a lot of her decisions, sometimes for the better, sometimes not. When Jess meets the boy, she is brought into a horror scene she never expected. In an attempt to save him, she is pushed to intense limits and is forced to put herself in danger to try and help save the day.
The boy: Running away from a monster, the boy crosses paths with Jess, and is forced to face his fears in no way a child ever should, but he also has much more control than we may suspect.
Cookie: Jess’s mother, who, while maybe not always the best mom, pulls through for her daughter when it’s needed the most.
The man: The boy’s father, who follows Jess and him in an attempt to get him back, however, follows at a distance due to the danger that follows his son.
My Review
As mentioned before, I’ve checked out some of Nat Cassidy’s other books and found them to be scary, but extremely enjoyable. When the Wolf Comes Home is an action-filled, thrilling novel, filled with horror and some people’s worst nightmares. The characters are enjoyable (and sometimes aggravating), but the plot itself is unique, and unlike anything I’ve ever dived into before. I gave it an 8/10 rating overall and am looking forward to diving into more of Cassidy’s spooky tales in the future.
The story follows Jess as she gets pulled into a deeply unsettling and increasingly terrifying situation involving a young boy and something not quite right. What starts as concern quickly turns into something much darker, with reality bending in ways that feel both surreal and way too real at the same time. As things escalate, the book leans hard into fear, what it does to us, how it changes us, and the choices we make when we’re pushed to our limits. Jess is forced to fight her greatest fears to protect the boy, but she also questions if she can really protect him from himself, or the realities of his world. The boy must question if he can fight off the monsters that haunt him, or crumble to the fear of his reality and what is chasing him.
As mentioned before, I’ve checked out other books of Cassidy’s, and when When the Wolf Comes Home came across my way, I knew I had to check it out. I saw lots of positive reviews and felt like it lived up to the hype for sure. This book is so unique. Like, genuinely nothing I’ve read before. The plot is wild in a way that somehow still works and makes sense, and I was completely locked in watching it unfold. The creativity here is insane, and the way everything comes together? So satisfying. It’s heartbreaking at different points, intense in others, but also loving and sweet in others. It has its gory parts, and some areas are a bit harder to stomach, but if you read lots of horror like I do, it’s really nothing crazy.
It’s fast-paced, emotional, and straight-up creepy. Not just surface-level scary, either, it gets under your skin. The kind of book where you feel uneasy even when nothing is technically happening because you are just waiting for that other shoe to drop. What really stood out to me is how much it focuses on fear. Not just the classic there’s something scary chasing you theme, but how fear actually changes people. The decisions, the reactions, the spiral, it all felt very intentional and honestly a little too real at times.
Jess carried this book for me. I loved her. She’s not perfect, and that’s exactly why she works so well. Her empathy, even when it complicates things, made everything hit harder emotionally. And yeah, the kid can be annoying, but in a way that makes sense. He’s a child dealing with trauma, and the book doesn’t shy away from that. If anything, it adds to the emotional weight.
This is not a feel-good book. Like, at all. My heart hurt more than once. But it’s a damn good one.
I had such a good time with this, and it definitely solidified that I need to keep reading more from Nat Cassidy.
Has anyone else checked out When the Wolf Comes Home, or any other of Nat Cassidy’s reads? What did you think, and what others would you recommend?
Thank you for checking out this review! I hope you enjoyed! Feel free to subscribe to the page on the bottom of the site to be one of the first to know when I post a new review.
#bookReview #horrorBookReview #thrillerBookReview #bookBlogger #books #bookLover #fictionBooks #fictionBookReview #Fiction #BookBlog #ThrillerBooks #HorrorBook #BookReviewPage #HorrorBooks #HorrorBookReader #ThrillerBook #BookBlogs #BookReviews #Review #Reading #BookReader #BookPosts #BookRecommendations #HorrorBookReviews #HorrorNovels #Reader #Book #Recommendations #BookPost #Horror #BookOpinion #BookBlogging #WhenTheWolfComesHome #NatCassidy #WhenTheWolfComesHomeByNatCassidy #NatCassidyReview #WhenTheWolfComesHomeReview -
When the Wolf Comes Home by Nat Cassidy
Hello beautiful people! Welcome to a new review! For this review, I get into horror writer Nat Cassidy’s creepy and hard-to-put-down book, When the Wolf Comes Home. While not the first of his reads I have picked up, I really enjoyed this one and found it to be unique, scary, and riveting. It made me really look forward to checking out more of his books in the future.
Main Characters
Jess: Our main girl and, honestly, one of my favourite parts of this book, she’s messy, flawed, and emotional. Her empathy drives a lot of her decisions, sometimes for the better, sometimes not. When Jess meets the boy, she is brought into a horror scene she never expected. In an attempt to save him, she is pushed to intense limits and is forced to put herself in danger to try and help save the day.
The boy: Running away from a monster, the boy crosses paths with Jess, and is forced to face his fears in no way a child ever should, but he also has much more control than we may suspect.
Cookie: Jess’s mother, who, while maybe not always the best mom, pulls through for her daughter when it’s needed the most.
The man: The boy’s father, who follows Jess and him in an attempt to get him back, however, follows at a distance due to the danger that follows his son.
My Review
As mentioned before, I’ve checked out some of Nat Cassidy’s other books and found them to be scary, but extremely enjoyable. When the Wolf Comes Home is an action-filled, thrilling novel, filled with horror and some people’s worst nightmares. The characters are enjoyable (and sometimes aggravating), but the plot itself is unique, and unlike anything I’ve ever dived into before. I gave it an 8/10 rating overall and am looking forward to diving into more of Cassidy’s spooky tales in the future.
The story follows Jess as she gets pulled into a deeply unsettling and increasingly terrifying situation involving a young boy and something not quite right. What starts as concern quickly turns into something much darker, with reality bending in ways that feel both surreal and way too real at the same time. As things escalate, the book leans hard into fear, what it does to us, how it changes us, and the choices we make when we’re pushed to our limits. Jess is forced to fight her greatest fears to protect the boy, but she also questions if she can really protect him from himself, or the realities of his world. The boy must question if he can fight off the monsters that haunt him, or crumble to the fear of his reality and what is chasing him.
As mentioned before, I’ve checked out other books of Cassidy’s, and when When the Wolf Comes Home came across my way, I knew I had to check it out. I saw lots of positive reviews and felt like it lived up to the hype for sure. This book is so unique. Like, genuinely nothing I’ve read before. The plot is wild in a way that somehow still works and makes sense, and I was completely locked in watching it unfold. The creativity here is insane, and the way everything comes together? So satisfying. It’s heartbreaking at different points, intense in others, but also loving and sweet in others. It has its gory parts, and some areas are a bit harder to stomach, but if you read lots of horror like I do, it’s really nothing crazy.
It’s fast-paced, emotional, and straight-up creepy. Not just surface-level scary, either, it gets under your skin. The kind of book where you feel uneasy even when nothing is technically happening because you are just waiting for that other shoe to drop. What really stood out to me is how much it focuses on fear. Not just the classic there’s something scary chasing you theme, but how fear actually changes people. The decisions, the reactions, the spiral, it all felt very intentional and honestly a little too real at times.
Jess carried this book for me. I loved her. She’s not perfect, and that’s exactly why she works so well. Her empathy, even when it complicates things, made everything hit harder emotionally. And yeah, the kid can be annoying, but in a way that makes sense. He’s a child dealing with trauma, and the book doesn’t shy away from that. If anything, it adds to the emotional weight.
This is not a feel-good book. Like, at all. My heart hurt more than once. But it’s a damn good one.
I had such a good time with this, and it definitely solidified that I need to keep reading more from Nat Cassidy.
Has anyone else checked out When the Wolf Comes Home, or any other of Nat Cassidy’s reads? What did you think, and what others would you recommend?
Thank you for checking out this review! I hope you enjoyed! Feel free to subscribe to the page on the bottom of the site to be one of the first to know when I post a new review.
#Book #BookBlog #bookBlogger #BookBlogging #BookBlogs #bookLover #BookOpinion #BookPost #BookPosts #BookReader #BookRecommendations #bookReview #BookReviewPage #BookReviews #books #Fiction #fictionBookReview #fictionBooks #Horror #HorrorBook #HorrorBookReader #horrorBookReview #HorrorBookReviews #HorrorBooks #HorrorNovels #NatCassidy #NatCassidyReview #Reader #Reading #Recommendations #Review #ThrillerBook #thrillerBookReview #ThrillerBooks #WhenTheWolfComesHome #WhenTheWolfComesHomeByNatCassidy #WhenTheWolfComesHomeReview -
“I tend to think that most fears about A.I. are best understood as fears about capitalism”*…
Further to Wednesday‘s and yesterday‘s posts (on to other topics again after this, I promise), a powerful piece from Patrick Tanguay (in his always-illuminating Sentiers newsletter).
He begins with a consideration of Peter Wolfendale’s “Geist in the machine“
… Wolfendale argues that the current AI debate recapitulates an 18th-century conflict between mechanism and romanticism. On one side, naive rationalists (Yudkowsky, Bostrom, much of Silicon Valley) assume intelligence is ultimately reducible to calculation; throw enough computing power at the problem and the gap between human and machine closes. On the other, popular romantics (Bender, Noë, many artists) insist that something about human cognition, whether it’s embodiment, meaning, or consciousness, can never be mechanised. Wolfendale finds both positions insufficient. The rationalists reduce difficult choices to optimisation problems, while the romantics bundle distinct capacities into a single vague essence.
His alternative draws on Kant and Hegel. He separates what we loosely call the “soul” into three capacities: wisdom (the metacognitive ability to reformulate problems, not just solve them), creativity (the ability to invent new rules rather than search through existing ones), and autonomy (the capacity to question and revise our own motivations). Current AI systems show glimmers of the first two but lack the third entirely. Wolfendale treats autonomy as the defining feature of personhood: not a hidden essence steering action, but the ongoing process of asking who we want to be and revising our commitments accordingly. Following Hegel he calls this Geist, spirit as self-reflective freedom.
Wolfendale doesn’t ask whether machines can have souls; he argues we should build them, and that the greater risk lies in not doing so. Machines that handle all our meaningful choices without possessing genuine autonomy would sever us from the communities of mutual recognition through which we pursue truth, beauty, and justice. A perfectly optimised servant that satisfies our preferences while leaving us unchanged is, in his phrase, “a slave so abject it masters us.” Most philosophical treatments of AI consciousness end with a verdict on possibility. Wolfendale ends with an ethical imperative: freedom is best preserved by extending it.
I can’t say I agree, unless “we”… end up with a completely different relationship to our technology and capital. However, his argument all the way before then is a worthy reflection, and pairs well with the one below and another from issue No.387. I’m talking about Anil Seth’s The mythology of conscious AI, where he argues that consciousness probably requires biological life and that silicon-based AI is unlikely to achieve it. Seth maps the biological terrain that makes consciousness hard to replicate; Wolfendale maps the philosophical terrain that makes personhood worth pursuing anyway, on entirely different grounds. Seth ends where the interesting problem begins for Wolfendale: even if machines can’t be conscious, the question of whether they can be autonomous persons, capable of self-reflective revision, remains open:
Though GenAI systems can’t usually compete with human creatives on their own, they are increasingly being used as imaginative prosthetics. This symbiosis reveals that what distinguishes human creativity is not the precise range of heuristics embedded in our perceptual systems, but our metacognitive capacity to modulate and combine them in pursuit of novelty. What makes our imaginative processes conscious is our ability to self-consciously intervene in them, deliberately making unusual choices or drawing analogies between disparate tasks. And yet metacognition is nothing on its own. If reason demands revision, new rules must come from somewhere. […]
[Hubert Dreyfus] argues that the comparative robustness of human intelligence lies in our ability to navigate the relationships between factors and determine what matters in any practical situation. He claims that this wouldn’t be possible were it not for our bodies, which shape the range of actions we can perform, and our needs, which unify our various goals and projects into a structured framework. Dreyfus argues that, without bodies and needs, machines will never match us. […]
This is the basic link between self-determination and self-justification. For Hegel, to be free isn’t simply to be oneself – it isn’t enough to play by one’s own rules. We must also be responsive to error, ensuring not just that inconsistencies in our principles and practices are resolved, but that we build frameworks to hold one another mutually accountable. […]
Delegating all our choices to mere automatons risks alienating us from our sources of meaning. If we consume only media optimised for our personal preferences, generated by AIs with no preferences of their own, then we will cease to belong to aesthetic communities in which tastes are assessed, challenged and deepened. We will no longer see ourselves and one another as even passively involved in the pursuit of beauty. Without mutual recognition in science and civic life, we might as easily be estranged from truth and right – told how to think and act by anonymous machines rather than experts we hold to account…
Tanguay then turns to “The Prospect of Butlerian Jihad” by Liam Mullally, in which Mullally uses…
… Herbert’s Dune and the Butlerian Jihad [here] as a lens for what he sees as a growing anti-tech “structure of feeling” (Raymond Williams’s term): the diffuse public unease about AI, enshittification, surveillance, and tech oligarchs that has not yet solidified into coherent politics. The closest thing to a political expression so far is neo-Luddism, which Mullally credits for drawing attention to technological exploitation but finds insufficient. His concern is that the impulse to reject technology wholesale smuggles in essentialist assumptions about human nature, a romantic defence of “pure” humanity against the corruption of machines. He traces this logic back to Samuel Butler’s 1863 essay Darwin Among the Machines, which framed the human-technology relationship as a zero-sum contest for supremacy, and notes that Butler’s framing was “explicitly supremacist,” written from within colonial New Zealand and structured by the same logic of domination it claimed to resist.
The alternative Mullally proposes draws on Bernard Stiegler’s concept of “originary technicity”: the idea that human subjectivity has always been constituted in part by its tools, that there is no pre-technological human to defend. [see here] If that’s right, then opposing technology as such is an “ontological confusion,” a fight against something that is already part of what we are. The real problem is not machines but the economic logic that shapes their development and deployment. Mullally is clear-eyed about this: capital does not have total command over its technologies, and understanding how they work is a precondition for contesting them. He closes by arguing that the anti-tech structure of feeling is “there for the taking,” but only if it can be redirected. The fights ahead are between capital and whatever coalition can form against it, not between humanity and machines. Technology is a terrain in that conflict; abandoning it means losing before the contest begins.
Wolfendale’s Geist in the Machine above arrived at a parallel conclusion from a different direction: where Mullally argues that rejecting technology means defending a false vision of the human, Wolfendale argues that refusing to extend autonomy to machines risks severing us from the self-reflective freedom that makes us persons in the first place. Both reject the romantic position, but for different reasons:
To the extent that neo-Luddites bring critical attention to technology, they are doing useful work. But this anti-tech sentiment frequently cohabitates with something uneasy: the treatment of technology as some abstract and impenetrable evil, and the retreat, against this, into essentialist views of the human. […]
If “humanity” is not a thing-in-itself, but historically, socially and technically mutable, then the sphere of possibility of the human and of our world becomes much broader. Our relationship to the non-human — to technology or to nature — does not need to be one of control, domination and exploitation. […]
As calls for a fight back against technology grow, the left needs to carefully consider what it is advocating for. Are we fighting the exploitation of workers, the hollowing out of culture and the destruction of the earth via technology, or are we rallying in defence of false visions of pure, a-technical humanity? […]
The anti-tech structure of feeling is there for the taking. But if it is to lead anywhere, it must be taken carefully: a fightback against technological exploitation will be found not in the complete rejection of technology, but in the short-circuiting of one kind of technology and the development of another.
As Max Read (scroll down) observes:
… if we understand A.I. as a product of the systems that precede it, I think it’s fair to say ubiquitous A.I.-generated text is “inevitable” in the same way that high-volume blogs were “inevitable” or Facebook fake news pages were “inevitable”: Not because of some “natural” superiority or excellence, but because they follow so directly from the logic of the system out of which they emerge. In this sense A.I. is “inevitable” precisely because it’s not revolutionary…
The question isn’t if we want a relationship with technology; it’s what kind of relationship we want. We’ve always (at least since we’ve been a conscious species) co-existed with, and been shaped by, tools; we’ve always suffered the “friction” of technological transition as we innovate new tools. As yesterday’s post suggested (in its defense of the open web in the face on a voracious attack from powerful LLM companies), “what matters is power“… power to shape the relationship(s) we have with the technologies we use. That power is currently in the hands of a relatively few companies, all concerned above all else with harvesting as much money as they can from “uses” they design to amplify that engagement and ease that monetization. It doesn’t, of course, have to be this way.
We’ve lived under modern capitalism for only a few hundred years, and under the hyper-global, hyper-extractive regime we currently inhabit for only a century-and-a-half or so, during which time, in fits and starts, it has grown ever more rapcious. George Monbiot observed that “like coal, capitalism has brought many benefits. But, like coal, it now causes more harm than good.” And Ursula Le Guin, that “we live in capitalism. Its power seems inescapable. So did the divine right of kings.” In many countries, “divine right” monarchy has been replaced by “constitutional monarchy.” Perhaps it’s time for more of the world to consider “constitutional capitalism.” We could start by learning from the successes and failures of Scandinavia and Europe.
Social media, AI, quantum computing– on being clear as to the real issue: “Geist in the machine & The prospect of Butlerian Jihad,” from @inevernu.bsky.social.
(All this said, David Chalmers argues that there’s one possibility that might change everything: “Could a Large Language Model be Conscious?” On the other hand, the ARC Prize Foundation suggests, we have some time: a test they devised for benchmarking agentic intelligence recently found that “humans can solve 100% of the environments, in contrast to frontier AI systems which, as of March 2026, score below 1%”… :)
* Ted Chiang (gift article; see also here and here and here)
###
As we keep our eyes on the prize, we might spare a thought for a man who wrestled with a version of these same issues in the last century, Pierre Teilhard de Chardin; he died on this date in 1955. A Jesuit theologian, philosopher, geologist, and paleontologist, he conceived the idea of the Omega Point (a maximum level of complexity and consciousness towards which he believed the universe was evolving) and developed Vladimir Vernadsky‘s concept of noosphere. Teilhard took part in the discovery of Peking Man, and wrote on the reconciliation of faith and evolutionary theory. His thinking on both these fronts was censored during his lifetime by the Catholic Church (in particular for its implications for “original sin”); but in 2009, they lifted their ban.
#AI #artificialIntelligence #BernardStiegler #ButlerianJihad #capitalism #computing #consolidation #culture #Hegel #history #Kant #LiamMullally #noosphere #OmegaPoint #PatrickTanguay #PeterWolfendale #philosophy #PierreTeilhardDeChardin #socialMedia #Technology #TeilhardDeChardin -
Battle for the Ballot: Best Dramatic Presentation 2026
The two Best Dramatic Presentation categories are among my favourites in the Hugos, because I consume a lot of SFF media and have a lot of thoughts and feelings about them. Since my post last year about why I had wanted Loki S2 to win a Hugo in 2024 (which I was working on for a while but ended up not posting it in time for it to sway anyone), I’ve been toying with the idea of producing more writing around some of my favourite things from each year, in case it helps anybody—least of all me, in getting it all out of my system.
I know I’m posting this with one day to go before nominations (these take so long for me! I must develop a better system for next year 🤔), but I’m really writing this to sound out my own thoughts about the DP categories this year, because it is absolutely bananas with how stacked they both are. There have been some truly great speculative television shows and films, stuff that I’m sure we’ll still be talking about for years to come, and making decisions to boil my favourite media down to just 5 per category—especially given the fiddliness of Long Form and Short Form where TV is concerned, which I’ll get to in a sec—is going to be excruciatingly difficult for me.
So come along on a journey with me as I parse my thoughts, and who knows! Maybe I’ll argue my way to your heart about some of this, or tell you about something you hadn’t heard of before—some of which I’ve already written about before, but I’m getting ahead of myself!
Let me know what your ballot looks like, and if you’re nominating any of the below shows, films, and other dramatic works, or if you’re including other things entirely. I’m curious!
TV series and the Long Form/Short Form debate
A big question for many fen every year is “do I nominate one episode from a TV series that stands on its own or that adequately represents the show in Short Form, or do I nominate the whole season in Long Form because it’s one complete narrative, and isolating one chapter of it would be unfair?”
Understandably, it’s a tough one; when a show inevitably gets votes in both categories, it can lead to headaches for the Hugo Administrating Team as they have to sift through the numbers and ultimately decide which category it should be nominated in1, which I don’t envy at all. But at the same time, as a voter, I have to go with what my heart says and name my favourite episodes in Short Form, regardless of whether I’ve also named the show/season as a whole in Long Form, because if enough others have put that same episode down, then that’s what’ll make it through to the shortlist, and I would want my vote to count towards those totals.
All that to say: if you expected a clear stance from me on this, HA! I’m afraid I don’t have one 😇—and to be perfectly honest, this is exactly the sort of thing where people’s mileage will vary the most.
My personal method of deciding whether to nominate entire TV seasons rather than one specific episode is purely based on ~vibes~, on whether or not I thought the season works better in its totality than through its individual parts, versus cases where one outstanding episode eclipses all the others for me. Not all shows are written the same, of course, and those that favour a longer narrative arc (as a lot of prestige TV does nowadays) tend to find their way on my long form ballot more often than not, as opposed to the more episodic writing that isn’t as popular now but used to be ubiquitous in the pre-streaming era.
Ultimately, you may agree or disagree with me on my reasoning for some of my choices below, whether on the LF/SF question or my actual opinions of the various media, and that’s fair enough. I welcome discussion in the comments, but please keep it civil!
Jump to:
- Long Form: Entire TV Seasons
- Long Form: Films
- Long Form: Non-Film/TV
- Short Form: TV Episodes
- Short Form: Non-TV
Long Form: Entire TV Seasons
You might see episodes from some of these further down in the episode/short form discussion.
Andor, Season 2+
This is kind of my front-runner among the TV seasons for the Long Form category. Overall, I enjoyed it slightly more than season 1 for a few reasons: first of all, the pacing was much more even, with a little bit more action and intrigue peppered throughout the season as opposed to having several quieter mini-arcs that slowed things down in places; and crucially, there was a lot less dithering from Cassian Andor, our reluctant protagonist, who finally comes into his own as a rebel after being passively tossed about this way and that in the first season. The agency he has in this one makes him much more interesting as a character, and brings him on the same level as other players in the budding rebellion front, like Mon Mothma and Luthen Rael. In fact, with all the different character arcs completed, Andor finally becomes what Rogue One always wanted to be: a testament to the great sacrifices necessary for revolution to take root.
I liked a lot of what went down in this season as tensions continued ramping up between the Empire and the Rebellion; the Ghorman subplot was outstanding, especially with Dedra and Cyril’s journeys as instruments of Imperial oppression and violence, as was Mon Mothma’s arc from quiet resistance financier to full-on political rebel on the run, with her heartbreaking arc where she realises the personal cost of rebellion. None of the individual episodes in season 2 came even close to the intensity or narrative brilliance of One Way Out, which was hands down my favourite episode of season 1, but that’s okay—I think this season works so much better in its totality, that I’ll be happy to nominate it wholesale.
I still need to re-watch Rogue One actually, to see if my (very mid) opinion on it changes at all, but ultimately I’m just really happy this show was made, and that it looked and felt amazing throughout. It’s probably my favourite Star Wars story, period, and I am so chuffed that so much of it was filmed in the UK (in locations I know and visit all the time, including my old workplace!2), and is full of incredibly talented and classically trained British theatre actors who fill the space with their physicality and make their performances memorable even in the smallest of roles3.
Severance, Season 2+
Another really strong contender for this category. If you ask me which TV show might win the LF Hugo between this, Andor, or Pluribus, my money would probably be on Severance, even if I personally prefer Andor thematically and Pluribus cinematically. There’s no doubt Severance is an absolute masterpiece of television—nay, of cinema—and the fact that the most anti-capitalist story of our time is coming directly from the big tech megacorp Apple is an irony that is as delicious as it is hilarious.
Aside from its bonkers world-building (which still has so many unanswered questions!), this season of Severance also dove pretty deep into its characters, whom we only got to know a bit in season 1. I don’t want to get too spoilery here, but there’s a handful of moments in this season that go SO HARD—particularly that one slow episode that everyone else hated for some reason, where we follow Patricia Arquette’s character as she goes to her dingy home town and fills us in on the cult lore around Lumon Industries, and of course the team building episode in which our intrepid heroes actually go outside, but it’s all weird in that trademark Lumon way where nothing really fully makes sense, and it leaves the viewer feeling uncomfortable, like something’s not quite aligned right.
But yeah, the world-building, man. It’s something else. I was glued to my screen and my mind was running a mile a minute trying to join the dots and figure out the answers to the show’s mysteries, much like our heroes consolidate memories refine macrodata—remember, the work is mysterious and important—and the excitement of getting it just before the show confirmed it was super fun. Yet, finally understanding what macrodata refinement is was actually a really tragic moment, and everything that happens after that made my heart break for the innies who are stuck living a half-life they can’t escape, on pain of death.
Ultimately, what I loved the most about the second season of Severance is its staunch anti-capitalist messaging that speaks to the average office worker today regardless of where they may be in the world, because corporate manipulation knows no borders:
- A job is a job, not a family.
- The company you work for does not deserve blind, cult-like loyalty.
- Your life is more than just work, and compartmentalising your work self and your out-of-work self might be a band-aid solution, but it doesn’t really work in the end.
- You are you, with all your complex layers of self, even if your corporate overlords (…or just your line manager 🤐) want you to think otherwise, or to act otherwise so you can fit into their office culture.
- Basically, it’s all dumb, and you deserve to live, not just to survive so you can punch your clock card and get meaningless little bonuses like finger traps or waffle parties.
This relatability is what keeps me hooked, and what I think elevates the show from pretty sci-fi to a classic of our times. It’s definitely got my vote.
Pluribus, Season 1+
God, talk about another cinematic masterpiece. When Breaking Bad/Better Call Saul‘s Vince Gilligan said he was working on a new show (which he was writing specifically for Rhea Seahorn to star in), I was crossing my fingers and my toes that it would be sci-fi, and Pluribus has completely blown my expectations out of the water. Not only does it mark Gilligan’s return to science fiction for the first time since The X-Files, but he brings his now-trademark cinematic visual language to it, full of tight choreography and nuanced subtext through visual and music cues, which is what made BB & BCS so special.
The result is an unnerving combination of horror, absurdist humour, and subtle world-building, centered around a complex character named Carol Sturka, who is one of only a few humans not to join the weird hive mind connection that takes over all other human beings on the planet, and doesn’t want to even entertain the idea. I’ve seen many reviews call her unlikable and unrelatable, and while the first part may be true (I was really tired of her contrarian nature in the first half of the season), I think there’s something more going on here than just a selfish white American woman who expects the world to move just for her.
The thing is, Vince Gilligan does not talk down to his audience; he expects us to keep up and to pick up what he’s putting down, whether that’s subtle digs at the publishing industry (it is truly hilarious to me that the protagonist of this show is an actual romantasy author!), not-so-subtle digs about community building and the harm humanity has done to the planet and to each other (particularly around resource distribution, iykyk), and questions about human nature that we are left to ponder: would you trade world peace for the complete flattening of human culture? Are we capable of retaining what makes us human while not actively harming the world around us, or each other? What is humanity, really, or human nature even?
Big stuff coming from an Apple TV show, once again; should I even be surprised at this point?
I think the long game of this show is going to be Carol’s character development from grumpy selfish miser to someone who genuinely cares about other people—a reverse Walter White, if you will. Gilligan is all about the narrative arc, and he has been known to deliver some of the best narrative arcs in TV ever, even if they take a while to stick the landing. I have faith that he is cooking something we haven’t even yet begun to poke at, if Better Call Saul is any indication, and between the already great writing and the show’s superlative production value, I think Pluribus is going to be a low-key modern classic. Vince has my vote, now and always.
My Hero Academia: The Final Season+
I wrote about this extensively in my Hugo ballot recommendations post a couple of months ago, so I’ll pull a quote from that as to why I loved it so much:
Y’all, what can I say: this has been my favourite anime of the last decade, and the fact it is ending has had me in my feelings for months. I’ve been deeply invested emotionally for many years, watching the simulcasts on the same day as the anime airs in Japan since around season 2, and this last season has been all payoff for almost ten years’ worth of story. Every Saturday from October 4th till December 13th, I tuned in and bawled my eyes out for 20 minutes straight, which for an anime aimed at teenage boys is an absolute feat. Defying every expectation, it stuck the landing for every little story beat, every subplot, and every theme set up over its ten year tenure perfectly, making it one of my absolute favourite stories in the superhero genre.
This is definitely one of those where context is essential, so I don’t think it can be viewed in a vacuum and appreciated to the same extent as having watched all previous seven seasons. You can try, but it wouldn’t be worth it just for the awards. Just watch the show so the ending can hit you like a ton of bricks in the best way possible, even if you miss the deadline. It’s fun, it’s moving, it’s made with so much love for American comics through a uniquely Japanese perspective. I can’t recommend it enough, and it’ll definitely be on my Long Form ballot even if I’m one of ten people who put it there 🤷🏻♀️
Honourable mentions/near misses+
- Silo, Season 2: It’s definitely not as tight as season 1, and it was missing some stuff from the books that may well turn up in season 3. For what it’s worth, there’s a lot I enjoyed about this season, but unfortunately it’s simply weaker when Rebecca Ferguson’s Juliette isn’t on screen, and there’s a lot of that unfortunately. I’m certainly looking forward to what season 3 will be adapting, and to see what format that will take, as I think they’re either condensing or axing the second half of book 2 to go straight to the dual narrative of book 3, which I have mixed feelings about.
- Murderbot: I never got into the books because of tonal whiplash (MB’s violence and misanthropy coated in dry humour just didn’t work for me), and while I thought the TV show was a little better in that regard, ultimately I thought the show was just okay. I didn’t actively dislike it, mind, but I watched most of it on a plane ride, didn’t finish it, and haven’t felt like picking it back up since. The story just doesn’t grab me, I think, and I never felt particularly attached to or compelled by any of the characters… and I’m okay with that 🤷🏻♀️. Not everything is for everyone! I expect it’ll be mass-nominated by all the book fans anyway based on the online discourse I’ve seen, so it won’t miss my vote.
- Invasion, Season 3: I didn’t even know this was out, lmao! I was deeply invested while watching seasons 1 and 2 (even though I disliked quite a few of the characters), but as soon as I was done with it I promptly forgot about it—and Apple TV didn’t even let me know that it was back on. Whomst can I shake until they fix the marketing situation over there?! Christ on a cracker!
- Stranger Things, Season 5: To my own surprise, I didn’t like this season nearly as much as season 4, let alone season 1, and so I will not be considering it for the Long Form category (including the last episode, which would qualify under Long Form on its own due to being 128 MINUTES LONG 🙄). It’s turned out to be one of those things where, while I enjoyed it a fair bit in the moment, the longer I think about it the more my feelings about it seem to change, and the ending has left me a bit… conflicted, shall we say. But it did have some great episodes in the middle especially, so I will consider a couple of them in the Short Form category.
Long Form: Films
Sinners+
This was probably my favourite SFF film of last year. Not only is it atmospheric, fun, and lush with cross-border folkloric world-building (Hoodoo magic and Irish vampires?! yes please!), but the story touches so many themes that a regular popcorn movie won’t even veer towards, and it does so brilliantly.
All the many layers of the Black and POC experience in the South during the Prohibition era (and beyond) are crystallised in the character arc of each ensemble cast member, with some absolutely outstanding performances by Hailee Steinfeld (whose character Mary is biracial, and torn between safety and belonging), Michael B. Jordan (who plays identical twins Smoke and Stack so well he walked away with an Oscar for it), and Wunmi Mosaku in particular as Smoke’s wife Annie (she’s such an underrated performer, but I’m so glad to see her actually flex her acting skills after her appearance in Loki). We’re talking themes like the push and pull of religion and its role in both keeping communities together and also oppressing them, the safety of BIPOC in a white supremacist society, and even the immigrant experience… the truth is your average blockbuster would never—but this is Ryan Coogler, and he won’t sugar-coat things for a mainstream audience, instead telling a story only he could tell, filled with truth, complexity, and nuance, something I really wish more filmmakers would embrace nowadays.
The film’s protagonist, Sammie (Miles Caton) has a preternatural gift with music, and the plot revolves around a juke joint Smoke and Stack put together, and the connection that music can create across time and even culture—with a wonderful supernatural twist.
One of my favourite moments is when the villain Remmick (an immortal Irish vampire played by Jack O’Connell) turns up at their juke joint and cries with joy at the emotions Sammie’s music has brought him after years of numbness. He talks about his own experience of colonialism at the hands of the British Empire and the subsequent erasure of Irish culture through the centuries, which is a very real thing—but he’s also a predator who has been making his way through the land trying to trap people and turn them into vampires, chased away by indigenous people who could tell he was a monster before attacking a couple who are Klan members. It’s clear that he doesn’t want Sammie’s music in order to connect people, but to use it as a tool on his quest to propagate a vampire race, and that seemingly sweet moment of connection is exposed as the performative allyship that it is.
There are some phenomenal action sequences too, with the last third of the film keeping me on the edge of my IMAX seat4. Genuinely, this film was such a breath of fresh air: delightfully complex but also fun, in ways that cinema just doesn’t dare to be right now. I was sad they didn’t win all the awards they were up for, but perhaps we can give it a Hugo instead.
Frankenstein+
©️ Netflix 2025I have a full review of this here, but basically: the SFF-ness of this is lush, as expected from a Guillermo Del Toro movie, and for the most part it works well as an adaptation of the book. As I mention in my other post, it doesn’t quite reach the heights of the NT’s theatre adaptation, which I still consider the ultimate version of this story, but it does similar things with the characters as Penny Dreadful, which is my runner-up favourite, save for the very end, and it’s that ending that makes the whole thing fall short for me, unfortunately.
To quote myself:
Why do we sing sad songs, when we know their ending is unhappy? When our instinctual yearning for a happy ending is met with the inevitability of human flaws getting in the way, that emotional release we experience is what my ancestors called catharsis. As the audience we accept that because of who these characters are, they would always make these choices and lead the story to the same outcome, time and again, even though we’d like them to change, to choose better, so they can be happy in the end.
What makes Frankenstein compelling in any iteration is its core conflict: Victor’s refusal to acknowledge the Creature as human, despite the fact that the Creature is deeply human, as much as his creator would like to think otherwise. We are invited to empathise with the Creature’s plight, to see how he thinks and feels, how he desires things we all do: safety, friendship, love. Victor is incapable of recognising this, and so the two clash eternally. Such is the tragedy, and no matter what minor changes are made to it, the good adaptations always recognise the impasse between the two at the end. It’s what makes the story tick.
My ultimate issue with the way Del Toro chose to end his adaptation of Frankenstein is that it ultimately robs us of our deserved catharsis by artificially resolving the incontrovertible stalemate between the two leads, giving us a happy(ish) ending in which Victor, at death’s door, forgives the Creature for the violence and destruction he’s wrought, apologises for what he did to him, and urges him to live on, free of guilt, yet completely alone. The Creature then walks off into the Arctic sunrise, liberated from his vendetta yet devastated at losing his creator.
It’s a lovely thought in principle, a Del Toro-ism about accepting one’s nature and walking away from one’s painful past, and if it were an original story without baggage I’d be all for it—after all, The Shape of Water had similar, pro-monster themes of letting go of trying to fit into a world that won’t accept you anyway, and I ate that up voraciously. But here, in taking a tragedy that is so classic and ingrained, loading it with a bunch of new traumas and subplots, and then resolving it all with a little monologue, the ending robs the story of its true conclusion, fundamentally missing the point of the source text, and doing a disservice both to Victor and the Creature.
I still think it’s a strong contender in the category, and definitely one of my favourite SFF movies I saw last year, despite my issues with it. However, given all my favourite TV shows above, I think I might eschew giving this one of my ballot spots, but I won’t be disappointed to see it on the final ballot, should it make it through.
Thunderbolts*+
I loved this movie A LOT, you guys, and it made me very sad that it flopped at the box office. I don’t blame people for being fatigued with Marvel’s mediocre superhero slop, but they should have given this movie a chance at the very least, because it might not have been the movie we wanted, but it was definitely the movie we needed right now.
(c) Disney/Marvel Studios, 2025I was very surprised with how deep it went into the trauma our various superheroes and anti-heroes have sustained through their previous adventures, and the level of empathy with which it treated them all:
- Yelena Belova, the last surviving Black Widow5, starts off depressed and morose, aimless, dissatisfied with running around and blowing things up for people with nothing to show for it except a path of destruction.
- Her and Natasha Romanoff’s father figure, Alexei Shostakov, is facing the music that his “Red Star” superhero persona is nothing but a figment of a bygone era, and is living a meagre life as a limo driver while reminiscing about his glory days.
- John Walker, the temporary Captain America replacement later dubbed “U.S. Agent”, is dealing with guilt after slaughtering innocent bystanders using Cap’s vibranium shield during the events of The Falcon and the Winter Soldier, all while struggling through early parenthood.
- The Winter Soldier—Bucky Barnes—is running for office, in an attempt to turn his newfound and shaky inner peace into something productive. Yet, something keeps niggling at him about the power vacuum left in the wake of the Avengers disappearing, and he can’t help but get involved in ways political candidates really shouldn’t. See: taking a huge machine gun and riding a motorbike out to the desert to find out who is behind these shenanigans. Tut tut, Mr Congressman.
- Oh, there’s also Ava Star/Ghost from Ant-Man and the Wasp, probably my least favourite Marvel movie to date, whom I completely forgot about before watching this movie and while writing this review. Oops! Her thing is that she is constantly phasing in and out of a solid existence, and she has to keep shouting about how traumatised she is with no need for subtext because they know we’ve all forgotten about her and need to be reminded of her struggles. Normally I’d be mad at that, but they are not wrong this time 😅
And then, there’s Bob.
(c) Disney/Marvel, 2025Bob is a new guy, recruited to be experimented on in hopes of becoming a superhero. He seems normal, average even, and he reluctantly joins our motley crew as they escape from a trap set by their employer—but under the surface he carries a deep wound, a gash that opens up to swallow him whole and turns him into The Void, his mysterious alter ego who awakens when Bob’s absolutely OTT superpowers kick in. The rest, as they say, is plot.
There’s a lot of (predictably dark) humour in this, and I was surprised with how much I liked these characters once they were given enough room to be protagonists, rather than minor antagonists in someone else’s story. While they haphazardly join forces into a makeshift team, their trauma is taken seriously, coalescing into the film’s climactic battle that pits the reluctant heroes against The Void, who weaponises each of their subconscious against them. The Void is Depression, by any other name—it’s the dark voice inside that tells each of our anti-heroes that they are worthless, unlovable, guilty, and alone. In order to beat him they have to reach out with empathy to themselves first and then to each other, and literally hold each other in a tight embrace as a reminder that they are not alone. What wins the day is friendship, empathy, and love, not unlike the last season of My Hero Academia, which I also loved last year, or Superman, which I’m about to get into below.
I cried BUCKETS while watching Thunderbolts* in the UK’s largest IMAX screen alongside my Bucky Barnes-obsessed friend, who has since made this film her entire personality (affectionate), and honestly, I’ve also been thinking about it ever since. Again, it’s a delightful little irony that the megalithic Disney/MCU would come out with a narrative so introspective and empathetic, especially at a time that loneliness and isolation is rampant among the film’s core audience of young men. I really hope that watching this film inspired people to reach out and be less alone in their struggles, and that the financial hit Disney took with it won’t keep us from seeing more of these characters in the future.
Also! A fun fact I noticed while listening to the soundtrack was that the film’s main theme is a reversed version of the main Avengers theme; just listen to the first few seconds of both themes and you’ll hear it:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8-Jzgp1jNiQ
Superman+
A good Superman movie?? In this economy?? Hallelujah!
I love a lot about what this film does with the core Superman premise. It gets Clark right, down to his farm boy roots and dorky kindness. It gets Superman right: his power isn’t unbeatable, and it isn’t even the most powerful thing about him (spoiler: it’s the dorky kindness). It gets Lex Luthor right—especially for our times—by having him be a smart but petty tech billionaire with an overinflated ego, someone who funds an invasion and even starts a pocket dimension on a whim, without once thinking of the consequences. It even gets Jimmy Olsen right simply by bringing him out of the margins where he’s been relegated for the last several Superman adaptations—and it’s actually really funny that he’s the one guy with the most game in this film, and that that’s how he gets to help out.
The structure of the film is an absolute delight, too. From the very start, we are thrown into the midst of a losing fight for Superman, which is a bold choice, as is having Clark’s relationship with Lois Lane already set up (and she even knows about him being Superman!). We don’t spend any time whatsoever on origin stories, budding relationship exploration, or long-winded exposition—we simply hit the ground running, and find out the particulars as we go along. It is assumed we know who Superman is, because… we all know who Superman is. And the themes around identity, responsibility, community, and how we should treat each other are laid bare without pretence, very directly speaking to the audience about contemporary problems we’re all facing day to day. It’s a genuine breath of fresh air not to be treated like an idiot, frankly.
There are a couple of things I don’t like about it though. For one, the film feels very busy, with so many characters and subplots and easter eggs thrown in, that if you blink you’ll definitely miss something. Relatedly, not all of those characters or subplots are treated equally, because there simply isn’t enough screen time to go around for everything. So the Justice Friends get the short shrift, as do Papa and Mama Kent, as does Krypton6, so that we can focus on the personal and political stakes that Clark/Superman has to overcome.
This is another superhero story with empathy at its heart, where the answer to even the most cosmic problems is… just be kind. Kindness is punk rock. As one of my favourite YouTube video essayists put it, this Superman is the American hero we desperately need right now. Someone who will stand up for what’s right even when the rest of the world tells him not to, someone with an unshakeable moral compass that only points to goodness. Watch that whole video actually, Dove does such a fantastic job analysing the cultural geography that plays into this film, and how it all ties together to bring us this ray of f*cking sunshine:
All this to say, I love that James Gunn can make a superhero movie that aims to appeal broadly but doesn’t feel like it panders to the lowest available denominator, and that he had the guts to (a) make the story feel relevant to our current times, what with all the invasions/”wars” going on right now that are purely happening for profit and that no one is doing anything to stop 🙄, and (b) leave us with a message of hope, that we can imagine a kinder world and that we can be the instruments of making that vision a reality. That kindness can be punk rock.
Dare I say, this was the movie that made me go, “huh, maybe the genre isn’t dead yet”, which… please, let it not be dead, I really like superheroes!
Honourable mentions/near misses+
- Mickey 17: I enjoyed this a lot, particularly for its world-building and Robert Pattinson’s performance. Unfortunately I think the Bong Joon-Ho-ness of it all kind of undercuts the story in favour of very on-the-nose political commentary, which was fun in the moment but in retrospect kinda leaves me a bit… “meh!”, probably because the current climate is so much worse than when this movie was made, and making fun of things/people just isn’t enough right now. So I don’t think this will be getting one of my spots, but it’s still totally worth seeing, if you haven’t!
- Fantastic Four – First Steps: I also enjoyed this a lot, especially in light of B-Mask’s excellent Fantastic Four video from a few years back which explained the classic comics and got me up to speed on the characters. It’s an honest-to-God decent, good Marvel movie, which as I keep saying is a rare sight these days, but that being said… I liked the stuff I talked about up top way more than this one, not to mention the TV seasons, so I just think it gets edged out by the competition.
- Hamnet: Technically an SFF movie! The trailer had me weeping, but the movie left me cold somehow, perhaps because it’s a little too obvious in its attempts to make people cry (Mark Kermode said it best! The bit with the song at the very end irked me too because I recognised it, and the moment was actually completely ruined for me.) It does have some wonderful and atmospheric visuals where it comes to the speculative aspect of it, and the soundtrack by Max Richter is predictably phenomenal (if only they’d used his original song for the climactic ending of the film!!), but it just didn’t move me in the ways I thought it would, so it’s a miss.
The “I haven’t seen these yet” caveat+
- K-Pop Demon Hunters: Yes, I know, somehow, I still haven’t seen this movie. I’m assuming it’ll get nominated to high heaven, so I’ll watch it ahead of voting, I promise.
- Weapons: I’ve heard fantastic things about this, and my husband is a big WKUK fan, so I might be watching this soon and revising my thoughts.
- Wicked: For Good: I liked the first film well enough, and I hear that a LOT happens in the second half of the musical, so I’m tentatively putting this on a hold list until I watch it. I don’t know if it would edge out any of my favourites, realistically speaking, but I suppose there is always room for surprises!
Long Form: Non-Film/TV
B-Mask’s “The REAL Thunderbolts Story: Marvel’s Greatest Scam“*
This is a 2.5 hour love letter to comics, and the first in a five-part series that tells the story of the real Thunderbolts from the comic books (a team that bears very little resemblance to the one portrayed in the recent MCU film discussed above). It features complex animations drawing from the original comic book art, as well as a full cast of voice actors bringing the characters to life with their performances.
* I’m personally torn on whether this would qualify for BDP-LF or BRW (seeing as it is technically a fanwork, and not an original work), but either way it is nothing short of a masterpiece—I wrote more about it in my 2025 underrated Hugo picks post, if you’re interested.
Short Form: TV Episodes
A caveat: my reasoning around nominating a particular episode is kind of like nominating my favourite chapter of a novel. Especially with how a lot of the prestige TV shows are made nowadays, individual episodes function as chapters in a longer story, so they have to be considered in the context of the wider narrative they’re a part of. If they are from a second, third, or even last season of a long-running show, even more so.
Also—and this might be a slightly spicy take—I personally don’t like that a lot of Hugo voters seem to only watch the individual episodes on the eventual shortlist without any context, and then complain that they didn’t get what was going on. That’s because context matters, and while I understand that it would take a lot of time to watch an entire season (or even several!) to be able to appreciate a single episode… if you want your vote to be informed, that’s the job, innit?
This has happened several times to me, where there’s an episode on the shortlist from a show I don’t watch (and have no intention of watching—sorry Lower Decks), so I just skip it and don’t put it in my ballot at the end, or rank it below my own favourites. I do the same with sequels to books I haven’t read, out of respect for the work itself as well as its author, but that’s just me I guess! 🤷🏻♀️
Anyway, here are some thoughts about my favourite episodes of speculative TV from this year, under spoiler tags for obvious reasons.
Two episodes from Stranger Things, Season 5+
‘Chapter Four: Sorcerer’
I loved, loved, loved this episode. The moment Will uses his new power… it gave me goosebumps, it was so good—and the fight sequence in front of the gate to the Upside Down is incredible. Rather than the writing, though, I want to praise the actors’ performances and the work of the crew who worked on the practical effects, stunts, and complicated cinematography in this episode. Especially given more recent revelations about how the Duffers went into production with season 5 without having ironed out the ending, and the stress that added to the poor production crew, I think any flowers should really be going to them for making such an outstanding piece of TV despite the challenges.
‘Chapter Six: Escape from Camazotz’
Yes, the scene in this photo feels a little ludicrously long considering they’re both on the run and about to be caught by the Big Bad, but I loved the heart of this relationship and the character development for both Holly and Max in this episode. I had also seen the Stranger Things play in London a couple of years back, and this episode eliminated the issues I had with the world-building in that, which at first had seemed to contradict the revelations in season 4 about Vecna/Henry Creel’s agency as a villain and his role in shaping the Upside Down… I was glad to see that in fact all the loose threads from the various seasons did connect, and that the strands from the play were relevant too.
Various episodes from Severance, Season 2+
S2E4: ‘Woe’s Hollow’
I mentioned this episode in my discussion of the series earlier, but let me get into it here: this is one of the best episodes of TV ever made, period, and I will fight you on this. I don’t know if it would stand alone in any capacity, considering the weird tone is already a lot to deal with and there’s a lot of plot and character interaction that picks up from where the last season left off, not to mention a big-time betrayal that ends up echoing through the rest of season 2.
I spent a good chunk of the beginning wondering if this was a simulator or a dream sequence because it didn’t fully make sense for our protagonists to be outside the Lumon offices, and the uncanny doppelgangers guiding them through the forest seemed almost dreamlike, but the reality was much more sinister in the end, which tracks. If there’s a single episode from this show I’d nominate, it’d be this one.
S2E8: ‘Sweet Vitriol’
People hate this episode because it’s slow and follows an unlikeable antagonist whom we are invited to empathise with, and that’s precisely the reason I like it. First of all, we get way more insight into the Lumon cult corporation from Harmony Cobel, who ostensibly grew up in the cult and has invested her whole life into the company’s welfare. This is also where we begin to see cracks form in her resolve as an antagonist, as she has realised that the company sees her as an expendable cog despite her lifelong investment and dedication, and so she decides to fight them, to prove that this little cog is actually so important, it might well bring the whole house down.
It’s interesting also for thematic reasons, outside of the show’s world. On an individual level, the image of someone who grew up in poverty while idolising a particular company, then making their entire life revolve around it so as to gain favour and socioeconomic mobility, gaining that and then losing it when the company no longer sees them as valuable, is unfortunately too relatable. So is seeing a small town that once had its own industry and community be taken over by a mega corporation and become completely dependent on it, eventually falling into destitution once the corporation pulls their activities out of the town. The actual commentary here is silent, but extremely powerful.
I don’t think Cobel’s about-turn is enough to fully make her an anti-hero, but I really enjoyed this episode for all the insight it gave us both into her and the world of Severance outside of Lumon HQ.
S2E10: ‘Cold Harbor’
There is a strong argument to be made that the season two finale is absolutely worth a nomination as well, making this a really tough choice. Two seasons’ worth of mystery solving and internal corporate espionage culminate in this one-hour episode where our protagonists clash with one another and with the antagonists, and it’s just adrenaline all the way down.
Some spoilery thoughts here.While the big questions have been answered (where is Mark’s wife? what is Cold Harbor? what are they doing with all those sheep?), so many more remain. Is there a way to save the innies at all, if Lumon ends up falling? Can Mark S. and Helly R. ever hope to have a life outside these walls? And what happens to Gemma now that she’s out, even though she has 24 distinct, hand-crafted personalities inside her?
There’s actually a great take I hadn’t come across before I sat down to write this, and that is that the finale actually inverts the Orpheus & Eurydice narrative of Mark and Gemma, by having Mark’s innie actually choose to stay behind in Lumon so he can be with Helly. It’s less of a lack of faith and more of a conscious decision, which perhaps makes it even more tragic as Gemma watches her husband (sort of) run toward danger and another woman, leaving her alone at the exit, screaming for him to come back.
Having written about the other episodes already, I do think ep4 is a stronger contender purely from a craft/vibes standpoint, whereas the finale is more typical in many ways, as it focuses on exposition and plot and is faster paced. YMMV here, for sure, but I’m inclined to pick ep4 over this one, now that I think about it.
Two episodes from Pluribus, Season 1+
Episode 1: “We is Us”
It’s not often that a TV pilot stands on its own two feet well. It’s even less common for the film-making to be so good that one must gasp in awe at the choreography, cinematography, and editing, multiple times throughout the course of the episode. One of my biggest peeves is when a TV pilot is so mired in exposition that there is no room for characters or atmosphere until the next episode because they simply have to give you the setup quickly—it ends up feeling flat and boring and frankly, it puts me off more than it entices me to keep watching until it gets better.7
Well, this episode does none of that.
Gilligan’s forte is silent scenes that actually speak volumes. There is so much storytelling in this episode that has no words; we watch an intergalactic viral hive mind sequence take over the Earth in perfectly synchronised movement, and the storytelling is in the silence, the perfect unison, and the eerie smiles as the hive mind consciousness flattens the individuals inside. A lesser writer would put exposition in dialogue, possibly giving too much information for where we are in the story, but Gilligan knows that less is more. We get just enough to hook us in, and the rest is pure atmosphere and of course, character.
Carol is introduced as a grumpy romantasy author, a lesbian in a loving relationship who constantly finds reasons to be miserable, much to her partner’s chagrin. When the hive mind sequence is spread via planes in the air, Carol loses her partner, and simultaneously the world. The panic that ensues is completely understandable, and it gets worse at every turn as she is met with more and more hive mind people, but no one else like her. What a place for a pilot to leave us in! Aren’t you hooked just by reading this?? GO WATCH THIS SHOW!
Episode 7: “The Gap”
The title refers to a real place that Manousos (pictured) has to cross, but also I suppose to the gap between Carol and others at this point in the show. This is another masterfully crafted episode with a dual narrative point of view, where Carol continues her life in Albuquerque while Manousos is making his slow way up through South and Central America towards Carol, crossing cities, climbing mountains, and trudging through thick, treacherous jungles, all while refusing the hive mind’s help at every opportunity.
Some spoilery thoughts here.At first, it’s admirable; he won’t even take gas without paying for it somehow, even though everything he comes across is at his disposal. Soon enough, however, his steadfastness turns into stubbornness that does more harm to him than good. When he gets seriously injured in the jungle (something that was completely preventable, had he accepted the hive mind’s help and transited through safer means),
Meanwhile, Carol stoically endures complete and total isolation for a long time as a result of the hive mind evacuating the whole metro area of Albuquerque, which happened when Carol hurt one of them (and by extension, all of them) quite badly while trying to find answers. She is given resources and sustenance remotely, and for a while enjoys her peaceful environment, going around town and doing whatever she feels like… until she finally cracks under the pressure of extreme loneliness, and asks the hive mind to come back.
It’s an incredibly powerful moment actually, seeing someone as stubborn sturdy as Carol finally admit that she can’t live her whole life completely cut off from other people, even though she hates the hive mind on principle, and can’t wrap her mind around accepting this status quo. In fairness, she makes it to about a month and a half, which is pretty long, but her isolation was also so complete that there were zero people around her for that whole time—an unfathomable experience that’s so well depicted on screen. I personally love the rooftop golf scene as an example of how utterly devoid of people the landscape is, a mundane sort of post-apocalyptic image.
This is probably my favourite episode in season 1, and even think it could be presented without context and still mostly work alright for new viewers… Though I’d still hope that people would watch the whole season anyway. If I had to pick one episode to represent the series as a whole, I’d say it’s this one.
Short Form: Non-TV
‘Songs No One Will Hear’ by Arjen Lucassen (music album)
I wrote a fair amount about this pre-apocalyptic concept album in my underrated Hugo recommendations post; here’s a snippet:
The result is an album that grapples with the essence of the human condition (something Lucassen is very adept at), asking what makes life worth living from the perspectives of a bunch of different characters as they try to come to terms with the impending end of the world—including those who think it’s all a hoax, those who embrace it, and those who rage against the dying of the light. It straddles a weird and fun line between diegetic/in-world music that’s on the radio and telling the story as a sung-through musical, which is a little different than what you might expect, particularly for a progressive rock album. But that’s the Arjen Lucassen guarantee: big questions, big emotions, and a sound that isn’t afraid to change dramatically when necessary, even mid-song. Full of theatricality, Songs No One Will Hear is in some ways very similar to Lucassen’s Ayreon albums, but retains its own identity both musically and thematically.
We’ve been known to nominate SFF music albums when they arise, and on occasion those musicians have even responded to being recognised by fandom—seeing Clipping live in Helsinki was fun!—so this wouldn’t be out of the realm of possibility, though perhaps it is a bit of a left field suggestion for most Hugo voters as a progressive rock concept album.
While he’s extremely popular in his own niche, most of Lucassen’s fans aren’t in SF fandom and vice versa, something that I would love to help shift by talking about his work more to Hugo voters and talking to Ayreon/Lucassen fans more about joining our community and coming to Worldcon, especially as the next few years are looking quite international. Lucassen’s very obvious Golden Age influences are bound to have pointed many of his fans to the genre, so the bridge is already half-built.
I’m sure that I’ll be one of very few people longlisting this album, but 🤷🏻♀️! I really think If you see just a single, solitary vote for it in the full data, know that it was me!
Footnotes
- Per the WSFS Constitution, clauses 3.8.2 and 3.8.3. ↩︎
- In addition to the more fannish post I linked above, I found another really cool essay about the Barbican as Coruscant from an architect who works in film and TV. ↩︎
- A special shoutout to Joshua James, who played the doctor who tortured Bix Caleen with the sounds of distant massacres; I’ve been a huge fan of his ever since I saw him in Treasure Island at the National Theatre back in 2015 or so, and make a point to see him in every play he’s in when I can. He had a stint as Dr Brenner in Stranger Things: The First Shadow recently which I unfortunately missed, but I bet he was perfect! ↩︎
- I’d like to thank Octothorpe’s Alison Scott for her recommendation to see the film in an IMAX theatre, as the experience was truly spectacular. ↩︎
- There is another Black Widow character played by Olga Kurilenko who turns up for literally five minutes, but she is so not present in the rest of the film that I’m not even going to go into it. If it weren’t for Yelena and Alexei, I’d say that movie had zero lasting impact on the MCU, given how late into Natasha’s journey we got it (literally after she was canonically killed off), lol (sarcastic). ↩︎
- I still don’t know how to feel about the plot twist around Krypton and Clark’s biological parents, brief as it was. I think it is intended to maximise the contrast between where Clark hails from and where he grew up and how that affected his identity, and the discomfort it creates is probably very intentional from Gunn. ↩︎
- I call this “pilot syndrome”, and it’s one of my least favourite phenomena in media. ↩︎
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I’ve Spent My Whole Life Refusing to Break, and It’s Slowly Breaking Everything I Love
8,993 words, 48 minutes read time.
They call me “the rock” at work.
At first, I thought it was a joke. Some intern started it during a brutal deadline last year. Half our team was losing it, one guy had a full-on meltdown in the stairwell, and I just… didn’t. I stayed late, knocked out my part, kept my voice even, answered questions, didn’t yell. Next day in standup, the intern goes, “Ask the rock, he never cracks,” and everyone laughed.
But it stuck.
Now my manager calls me that. “Put it on Matt’s plate, he’s a rock.” People say it like a compliment. Like it’s this badge of honor, being the guy who doesn’t flinch, doesn’t cry, doesn’t panic.
I pretended I didn’t like it. “C’mon, I’m just doing my job.” But I liked it. A lot. It felt like proof I’d finally escaped where I came from.
Growing up, the only thing worse than being poor in our neighborhood was being soft. I remember one time, I was probably eight or nine, playing basketball in the driveway, and I tripped. Scraped my knee so bad the skin just peeled back. I started crying, like loud ugly kid-crying—snot, hiccups, the works.
My dad walked out, looked at me, then at my knee, then back at me.
“You done?” he said.
“It hurts,” I blubbered.
He shook his head. “It’s a scrape, not a bullet. Stop crying, be a man.”
He went back inside. That phrase seared itself into my brain: Stop crying, be a man. I stopped crying. Not just that day. In general.
Whole life since then has been me trying to prove I listened.
So yeah, “the rock” fits.
What nobody at the office knows is I had to lock myself in a stall in the men’s room last week because my heart was racing so hard I thought I might pass out. I sat on the toilet lid, head in my hands, breathing like a woman in labor, trying not to make a sound because God forbid someone hears me having a panic attack.
Rocks don’t hyperventilate in bathroom stalls.
But that’s kind of my thing: feel something, shove it down, slap a lid on it, move on. I’m a professional at it now.
Church people call it “being strong.” Clinical people call it “emotional repression.” I just call it survival.
My wife, Emily, calls it “shutting down.” She says it calmly, like she’s reading a weather report, but her eyes get that glossy look that tells me I’m supposed to say something deep right there. I never do. I go for safe. Joke. Change the subject. Or pull the nuclear option: “I’m just tired, can we not do this right now?”
Which is basically our marriage in twelve words.
We’ve been married nine years. We have a seven-year-old daughter, Lily, who looks exactly like Emily except with my eyebrows, which feels unfair to her, but whatever. We met in college at some Christian campus thing I only went to because there were free burritos. She saw through most of my crap from day one, which I think is why I married her and also why I can’t stand her sometimes.
She’s a feeler. Like, professionally. She does counseling with teens at a nonprofit. She comes home wrecked from some kid’s story and wants to sit on the couch and process it for an hour. She cries at TV commercials. She said “I feel” more in the first month I knew her than my dad probably has in his entire life.
First time she cried in front of me, I freaked out internally. Panic, sirens, red lights. Externally, I was smooth. I put my arm around her, said all the right words. I didn’t know what I was doing, but she looked at me like I’d just parted the Red Sea. “I feel safe with you,” she said.
I should’ve told her then: “I don’t do feelings. I just do rescue.” But I liked being the safe guy. The rock.
Now, nine years in, that “safe” guy has turned into something else. A wall. A locked door. A black hole.
She sits at our kitchen table some Tuesday night, wine glass in hand, staring at me over a half-eaten plate of chicken and rice.
“You’re not here,” she says. “I mean, you’re physically here, but you’re not here.”
“I’m literally sitting right in front of you,” I say, stabbing a piece of chicken. “What do you want, a hologram?”
She doesn’t laugh. “Matt, I’m serious. I don’t know what you’re feeling. Ever. I don’t know when you’re scared. Or angry. Or sad. I can’t read you anymore. It’s like there’s this glass wall. I can see you, but I can’t reach you.”
I chew slowly to give myself time. Classic tactic. Delay, defuse, divert.
“I’m just tired,” I say. “Work’s a lot. Dad’s situation’s a lot. This is just… a season.”
Her jaw tightens at the word “season.” She hates Christian clichés, and I use them like shields.
“You said that last year,” she says. “And the year before. ‘It’s just a season.’ When does this season end, Matt? When you burn out? When we’re divorced? When Lily’s grown and doesn’t even bother to call you?”
“Wow,” I say, forcing a laugh. “Okay, that escalated.”
That’s another move: if I make her feel dramatic, I get to feel sane.
She takes a breath, looks down at the table. “I’m asking you to let me in,” she says, softer. “Talk to me. Tell me when you’re drowning instead of pretending you’re fine. You don’t have to be the rock, Matt. Not with me.”
There’s this moment where I actually feel it—the opening, the offer. Like a crack in the armor. I could tell her about the bathroom stall. About how sometimes at two in the morning my heart’s pounding like I’m on mile ten of a run and I can’t sleep, so I scroll my phone until my eyes burn. About the weird chest tightness that makes me think of my dad in the hospital, tubes and machines and beeping, and how I’m still that kid in the driveway trying not to cry.
I even start to say it. “Sometimes at work I—”
The words get stuck in my throat. There’s this primal shame that hits like a wave. If I say it out loud, it’s real. If she hears it, she’ll see I’m not a rock. I’m a scared dude in a grown man’s clothes with a half-charged iPhone and a Bible app he barely opens.
I clear my throat. “Sometimes at work I just need to, like, zone out, you know? Nothing crazy. I just power through.”
She watches me. She knows I pulled up right before the truth. I can see it in her eyes, that flash of disappointment before she buries it. She nods like she’s trying to accept the crumbs.
“Maybe we should go to counseling,” she says.
And there it is. The one word I refuse to let into my story.
“We’re not that bad,” I say, way too fast. “Counseling’s for people who are… like… actually falling apart. We’re just in a stressful patch. Money’s tight, work’s nuts, your job is heavy, my dad almost died. We don’t need to pay someone a hundred and fifty bucks an hour to tell us what we already know.”
“That’s not what counseling is,” she says.
I shrug. “You’re a counselor, obviously you’re pro-counseling. But I—what would I even say? ‘Hi, I’m Matt, things are fine, my wife just wants me to cry more’?”
She closes her eyes like my words physically hurt. “This isn’t about crying,” she says. “This is about you. Letting. Me. See. You.”
“I married you, didn’t I?” I say. “You see me. This is me.”
That’s the line I always throw out when I want to shut the conversation down—“This is just who I am.” It sounds like honesty, like self-awareness, but really it’s defense. A way of saying, “I’m not changing.”
She stares at me for a long time. Then she gets up, takes her plate to the sink without another word.
I tell myself she’s being emotional. That she’ll calm down. That it’s not that bad. That I’m not that bad.
That night, after she goes to bed, I sit on the couch with my laptop. I tell myself I’m going to do a little work, get ahead of tomorrow. Ten minutes in, I’m already opening a second browser window.
It’s funny how my brain knows the path without thinking. A couple keystrokes, a few clicks, and there it is: curated, pixel-perfect nakedness. I scroll, numb. That’s really what it is. Not lust so much as anesthesia. My own private pharmacy.
I justify it. I’m not sleeping with anyone else. I’m not on Tinder. I’m not at a bar hitting on girls who call me “sir.” This is safe. It’s victimless. It’s just… stress relief. And if I ever tried to talk to Emily about how I actually feel, I’d probably scare her. This way, I take care of it myself.
Self-sufficiency, right? That’s what being a man is. Handle your own crap.
I close the laptop an hour later feeling gross, but the guilt is dull. Familiar. Easy to ignore. I tiptoe into the bedroom. She’s already turned away from my side, curled in a C-shape near the edge. I slide into bed, careful not to touch her too much, in case she wants space. Or in case she doesn’t, because if she turns toward me, I might have to be present.
In the dark, my phone buzzes on the nightstand. I check it. It’s Marcus.
You good, man?
Marcus is my one semi-real friend from church. Taller than me, quieter. Used to be a cop, now does security at a hospital. He’s the kind of guy who actually listens when you talk. Like, fully. It’s unnerving.
He’s the only one who’s ever looked me in the eye and asked, “How’s your heart?” without smirking. I laughed when he said it the first time. “Bro, what are we, in a Nicholas Sparks movie?” He smiled, but he didn’t take it back.
I stare at his text for a second. My thumb hovers over the keyboard.
I’m fine, just tired, I type.
I delete “just tired.” It sounds weak. I send: I’m good. Busy with work. You?
The truth would be: I’m not sleeping, my wife wants to send me to counseling like I’m broken, I spent an hour watching porn to avoid feeling anything, and my chest hurts more days than not. Also sometimes I want to just drive until I run out of gas and start over somewhere no one knows I’m supposed to be “the rock.”
He replies: Same. Let’s grab lunch this week. Been thinking about you.
Cool, I send. Let me know when.
I set my phone down and roll onto my back, staring at the ceiling in the dark. Some random verse I half-remember from a sermon floats through my brain: “The Lord is close to the brokenhearted.”
I snort quietly. I’m not brokenhearted. I’m just busy.
Work does not care about your feelings. My manager, Jeff, cares about deliverables and client satisfaction scores and how many hours the team can bill without triggering HR. There’s a massive software deployment next month. If we nail it, it’s big for the company. If we blow it, we lose a multi-million-dollar client. No pressure.
We shuffle into the conference room for yet another war room meeting. Screens everywhere, coffee cups, people with that glazed “I’ve been on Zoom for 12 hours” look in their eyes.
Jeff slaps my back. “How’s my rock?” he says, grinning.
“Ready to roll,” I say.
“Good, because if this thing slips again, I’m gonna have to start sacrificing junior devs to the client gods.”
Everyone laughs. I do too, even as that familiar tightness creeps into my chest. I tell myself it’s just caffeine. I’ve had three coffees and a Red Bull. Anyone’s heart would pound.
Halfway through the meeting, someone mentions layoffs. Not directly, but hints. “If this doesn’t go well, upper management’s gonna be asking hard questions.” Translation: people will get cut. People like me. People like the guy who had a meltdown in the stairwell last year and mysteriously “transitioned to new opportunities” two months later.
Rocks don’t get laid off. Weak links do. If I crack, I’m a liability.
My phone buzzes. It’s a text from my mom: Dad had another episode. Doctors want to run more tests. Can you come by tonight?
I swallow, staring at the message.
You okay? Jeff says, noticing my face.
“Yeah,” I say quickly. “Family stuff. I’m good.”
I tuck it away. Mental note: hospital. Later. After being the rock at work, I get to be the rock for my mom. Then maybe, if I have any energy left, I’ll toss Emily a pebble and call it connection.
During a break, I slip into the men’s room. I splash water on my face. As I look up, my reflection stares back at me. Thirty-six, a little more gray at the temples than I’d like, dark circles under my eyes. But my expression is neutral. Controlled. Rock-solid. You’d never know that inside, there’s this constant hum of static.
My chest tightens again. The room tilts for a second. I grab the edge of the sink.
Not now. Not here.
I duck into a stall before anyone walks in, sit on the lid, elbows on my knees, hands over my face. Breathe. In. Out. In. Out. I count my breaths. I feel ridiculous, a grown man hiding in a toilet cubicle trying not to pass out.
Somewhere behind the stall door I hear my dad’s voice: Stop crying, be a man.
“I’m not crying,” I mutter. “I’m breathing.”
Same thing, really. Trying to keep the dam from breaking.
I think, briefly, of all the verses I’ve heard about not being afraid. “Do not be anxious about anything.” “Fear not.” “The Lord is my rock.” It’s funny how I’ve basically replaced God with my own chest. My own calm face. Like, I’m my own Lord and rock. That’s not how I’d say it out loud, but that’s how I live.
After work, I swing by the hospital. Dad’s sitting up in bed, watching some game show with the sound off, wires stuck to his chest. Mom’s in the chair by the window, hands folded, Bible open but unread on her lap.
“Hey,” I say, stepping in. “How’s the party?”
Dad grunts. “Food sucks.”
“That’s how you know it’s a real hospital,” I say. “If they start serving steak, you should worry.”
He smirks. Mom gives me a tired smile. I do the thing I always do in hard rooms: crack jokes, keep it light, distract from the elephant.
“How you feeling?” I ask, even though I can read the chart as well as he can.
“Old,” he says. “Doctors say it’s not as bad as last time. Just gotta ‘take it easy.’ Whatever that means.”
“You gonna listen?” I ask.
He snorts. We both know he won’t. Men in my family don’t “take it easy.” We work until something breaks, then we duct tape it and keep going.
Mom looks at me like she wants to say something spiritual. She’s the only one in our family who does feelings out loud, but years married to my dad trained her to make them small.
“Been praying Psalm 34,” she says softly. “You know that one, honey? ‘The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.’”
She says it like it’s comfort, a warm blanket. I hear it like an accusation. Brokenhearted? Crushed? That’s not allowed. Not for men like us. We’re not brokenhearted, we’re just… busy. Tired. Overworked. Slightly malfunctioning machines.
“I like the one about ‘those who don’t work don’t eat,’” Dad says. “Keeps you honest.”
I laugh, grateful for the deflection.
Mom sighs. “Your father,” she says, half-affection, half-frustration.
On the drive home, the verse keeps replaying in my head. “The Lord is close to the brokenhearted.” If that’s true, then what does that mean for me? Because most days, God feels about as close as the moon. Beautiful, in theory. Useless, in practice.
Maybe the problem is I’m not brokenhearted enough. Or maybe that’s just another way to blame myself for something I don’t understand.
Thursday night is men’s group. I go mostly because it looks good. A married Christian dad who skips men’s group raises eyebrows. A married Christian dad who shows up, brings chips, cracks jokes, and nods thoughtfully during prayer requests gets approved.
We meet in the church basement, twelve guys in folding chairs in a sad circle under fluorescent lights that make everyone look tired and slightly dead. There’s the usual spread: chips, store-brand cookies, a veggie tray no one touches, and a big pot of coffee because apparently we’re all eighty.
Our leader, Dan, is a big guy with a beard that makes him look like a gentle lumberjack. He opens in prayer, then reads a short passage.
“Tonight,” he says, “I thought we’d just… be honest. No study guide. No video. Just us, talking about what’s real.”
That sentence alone makes my skin itch.
He reads Psalm 34:18. Of course. The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.
I feel it in my chest, right where the anxiety sits. The words are like a hand hovering over a bruise.
Dan looks around. “Who here would say they feel brokenhearted right now?” he asks. “Crushed in spirit? Not in theory. Right now.”
One guy laughs nervously. A couple shift in their chairs. I take a sip of coffee to buy time. No way I’m raising my hand. Brokenhearted is for widowers and addicts and cancer patients. Not white-collar project managers with upgraded iPhones and a leased SUV.
To my left, Jason clears his throat. He’s usually one of the louder guys, all stories about sports and his glory days playing college ball. Tonight, he looks smaller.
“I, uh…” He stares at the floor. His voice cracks. “My wife left last month. Took the kids. I haven’t told anyone ’cause… I’m embarrassed, I guess. I feel like I failed. I’ve been using porn for years. Said I’d stop a hundred times. Didn’t. She found stuff on my phone and just… had enough.”
The room goes quiet. My stomach twists. I keep my face still.
He keeps talking, words spilling now. “I always thought I had it under control, you know? Like, it was my thing. My stress relief. Better than cheating. That’s what I told myself. But she said it was cheating. She said I was choosing pixels over her. I don’t even… I don’t know how to live in my own skin right now. I feel… crushed. I don’t know how else to say it.”
Tears slide down his face. Full-grown man, shoulders shaking, crying in a church basement under bad lighting. Every alarm in my body goes off. Run. Joke. Change the subject.
Instead, something weird happens. Dan gets up, walks over, puts a hand on his shoulder. Another guy kneels and starts praying softly, nothing fancy, just, “God, be close. Help him.” No one mocks. No one rolls their eyes. A couple other guys are wiping their faces too.
I feel this pressure rising in my throat. It scares me more than any panic attack.
This could be you, a voice in my head whispers. You could talk. You could tell them about the stall, the late nights, the way your wife looks at you like a stranger. You could say you’re not okay. You could stop playing the rock.
I picture it for a second. Me, opening my mouth, saying, “Guys, I’m not fine. I’m addicted to being okay. And to porn. And to people thinking I have it together. My wife wants to leave and it’s mostly my fault.” I imagine their faces, their hands on my shoulder, the prayers. I imagine God feeling near instead of abstract.
My heart starts hammering. My palms sweat. My knee bounces.
Dan looks around. “Anybody else?” he says gently. “You don’t have to share. But if you want to, this is a safe place.”
Everyone’s eyes are suddenly the most interesting thing in the room. Shoelaces. Coffee cups. The scuffed tile. No one wants to be next.
I clear my throat.
“I mean…” I say, forcing a smirk. “My biggest sin is I eat too many carbs. So, uh, pray for me, guys.”
A few chuckle. The tension breaks a little. Dan gives me a half-smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
Inside, I want to punch myself. That was my out. My shot. I could have been honest. Instead, I threw a joke at the most honest moment I’ve seen in years like a grenade.
The rest of the night passes in a blur of surface-level shares. Work stress. Kids. “I should read my Bible more.” I mumble something about being busy. When we close in prayer, I mumble a safe Christian phrase: “God, thank you that you’re strong when we’re weak.” It sounds holy. It’s a lie coming from my mouth.
After group, as we’re heading to our cars, Marcus falls into step beside me.
“You okay?” he asks.
“I’m good,” I say automatically. “That was… heavy, huh?”
He studies me. “Yeah. But good heavy.” He pauses. “You sure you’re okay? You were twitchy during prayer.”
“Twitchy?” I scoff. “Bro, I had too much coffee. That’s all.”
He doesn’t push. “If you ever want to talk,” he says, “for real… I’m here. No judgment. None of us are as put-together as we look. You know that, right?”
I shrug, unlock my car. “I’m fine, man. Seriously. Just tired.”
That night, Emily’s on the couch when I get home, laptop closed, TV off. That’s never a good sign.
“How was group?” she asks.
“Good,” I say, dropping my keys in the bowl. “You know. Guys. Bibles. Bad coffee.”
“Did you share anything?” she asks.
I bristle. “What is this, a report card?”
She folds her hands. “I just… you’ve been off. For a while. I was hoping you’d talk to someone.”
“Talked to God,” I say. “That counts, right?”
She does that slow blink that means she’s trying not to explode. “You know what I mean.”
I do. I ignore it. I sit in the chair across from her instead of next to her on the couch. It’s a distance of three feet that feels like thirty miles.
She takes a breath. “I called a counselor,” she says.
Something in me snaps. “You what?”
“I called a counselor,” she repeats, voice shaking slightly but steady. “For us. For our marriage. Her name is—”
“We don’t need—”
“—Sarah Stevens,” she says, talking over me, which she almost never does. “She’s highly recommended. She has experience with couples where one partner is emotionally unavailable.”
“Emotionally unavailable,” I repeat, like it’s a slur.
“That’s what you are, Matt,” she says, and now the tears are in her eyes. “You’re unavailable. I’m married to a ghost. You show up physically, you pay bills, you fix things when they break, but you don’t let me see you. I feel like I’m begging you to be my husband.”
My defenses go up so fast I’m dizzy. “That’s not fair,” I say. “I go to work every day. I come home. I spend time with Lily. I go to church. I go to your family stuff even when I don’t want to. I provide. I don’t cheat. I don’t hit you. I don’t drink myself stupid. I’m doing everything I’m supposed to do and somehow it’s not enough because I don’t sit around talking about my feelings?”
“You don’t talk about anything real,” she says. “Do you know how alone I feel? I would almost rather you scream at me than stay like this. At least then I’d know there’s something in there.”
“That’s insane,” I say, standing up. “You’d rather I scream at you?”
“I’d rather you be honest,” she fires back.
I pace. “Fine. Here’s honest: I don’t want to sit in a room with some stranger and have you list all the ways I suck while she nods and takes notes.”
“That’s not—”
“I’m not doing it,” I say. “I’m not broken. We’re not broken. We’re just stressed.”
“And I’m telling you we are broken,” she says, standing now too, voice rising. “We are so broken, Matt. I’m drowning over here. I lie awake next to you at night and I feel like a widow before I’m even forty.”
The widow line hits harder than I want to admit. My mom in that hospital chair, Bible open, eyes tired. Is that Emily’s future?
I can’t go there. Too much. Shut it down.
“This is drama,” I say, dismissive. “You’re making it worse than it is.”
Her mouth falls open. “Drama,” she repeats. “Okay.”
She walks past me, into the bedroom. I hear drawers opening, the squeak of the closet door. A minute later she comes out with a duffel bag. She starts throwing clothes in it. T-shirts, jeans, underwear, random stuff. No method, just motion.
“What are you doing?” I ask, stomach dropping.
“Going to my sister’s,” she says. “For a while.”
“You’re leaving,” I say, like I can’t process the words.
“I’m not filing for divorce,” she says. “Yet. I’m giving you space. And I’m giving myself a chance to remember what it’s like to breathe.”
“Emily, come on,” I say, moving toward her. “You’re overreacting.”
She stops packing, looks up at me, and laughs. It’s a bitter sound I’ve never heard from her before.
“You keep saying that,” she says. “Anytime I tell you I’m hurting, I’m ‘overreacting.’ Anytime I say we need help, you say I’m ‘making it worse than it is.’ I’m done gaslighting myself into thinking I’m crazy. This is real, Matt. I’m leaving because you already have. You left a long time ago. You’re just… physically present.”
“That’s not fair,” I repeat, because I don’t have any other words.
She zips the bag. “I’m giving you one more chance,” she says, voice trembling. “You call that counselor. You set up an appointment. You show me with actions, not words, that you’re willing to be vulnerable. To let me in. To let anyone in. If you don’t… I don’t know if there’s anything left to save.”
She walks past me, bag over her shoulder. She stops at Lily’s door, pushes it open. Our daughter’s asleep, sprawled sideways, stuffed unicorn under one arm. Emily kisses her forehead, whispers something I can’t hear.
“I’ll bring her back Sunday night,” she says quietly when she returns. “You can have the weekend to… think.”
“What am I supposed to do?” I ask, hating how small my voice sounds.
She meets my eyes. “Stop pretending you’re okay,” she says. “That’d be a start.”
The front door closes behind her. The house is dead quiet.
I stand in the middle of the living room, staring at the door like it might swing back open and she’ll say, “Kidding!” But it doesn’t. She doesn’t.
Instead of collapsing, I do what I always do: I make a list. Dishes. Laundry. Trash. Budget. I straighten the cushions on the couch, because God forbid a pillow be crooked while my marriage implodes.
Later that night, I get a text from Marcus.
Heard Emily and Lily are staying with her sister. You want company?
My heart stutters. News travels fast in church circles.
I stare at the screen. I picture Marcus on my couch, looking at me with those annoyingly kind eyes, asking questions I don’t want to answer. What are you afraid of? How are you really? When did you start disappearing?
I type: Nah man, we’re fine. Just needed some space. Couples fight, you know.
I delete “we’re fine” because even I can’t make my thumbs lie that hard. I send: Just needed some space. All good.
He replies immediately. You sure? I can be there in 15.
I put the phone face down on the coffee table. I pace. I pick it up again.
Come, I type. I delete it.
I’m not sure what I’m more afraid of: him seeing the stack of dirty dishes and empty wrappers that prove I’m not as together as I act, or him seeing through whatever story I spin and calling me on it.
I finally send: I’m good bro. Exhausted. Rain check?
Three dots appear, disappear. Finally: Okay. I’m here if you need me. For real.
I toss the phone onto the couch like it burned me. I grab my laptop instead.
By 1 a.m., the house is dark, the only light the blue glow of my screen. Pop-up after pop-up, tab after tab. My brain is buzzing, my body’s numb. I tell myself it’s better than thinking. Better than feeling. Better than sitting in the silence and hearing my own excuses bounce off the walls.
When I finally crash into bed, the sheets on her side are still warm from when she packed.
The next morning, Lily’s empty room hits me harder than I want to admit. Her bed is made (Emily’s doing), stuffed animals lined up, tiny socks in the hamper. I stand in the doorway, an intruder in my own house.
I go to work like nothing happened. Because that’s what you do. You compartmentalize. You put on the rock mask. You get stuff done.
My performance drops, though. It’s subtle at first. I miss a detail here, forget an email there. Nothing huge. But in this job, death comes by a thousand paper cuts.
A junior dev, Sarah, points out a flaw in my plan in front of the team. Normally, I’d thank her, adjust. Today, raw and sleep-deprived, I snap.
“Maybe if you’d read the full spec before chiming in, you’d understand why we did it this way,” I say, harsher than I mean to.
The room goes quiet. She shrinks back, face flushing. Jeff raises an eyebrow at me.
“Let’s take this offline,” he says.
After the meeting, he pulls me into his office.
“You good?” he asks.
“I’m fine,” I say automatically.
He leans back, folds his arms. “Look, I don’t need to know your personal business. But you bit Sarah’s head off in there. That’s not like you.”
“Sorry,” I say. “Just… a lot going on at home.”
“Take a day,” he says. “Or a few. Whatever you need. This project’s important, but not as important as you not burning out.”
The irony of my boss telling me not to burn out while I’m actively burning out isn’t lost on me.
“I’m good,” I repeat. “I just need to focus.”
He studies me for a second. “You know,” he says slowly, “you don’t always have to be the rock.”
I actually laugh. “You started that, remember?”
He smiles. “Yeah. Turns out sometimes rocks crack. Just… don’t wait until you blow up to tell someone you’re drowning, okay?”
Everyone keeps using the same metaphors. Drowning. Burning out. Breaking. I keep dodging them like bullets in a video game. If I just keep moving, they can’t hit me.
Days blur. Emily and I text logistics about Lily. Pickup times, homework, dentist appointments. Nothing real. It’s like running a small business together instead of a marriage.
One Friday, I’m supposed to pick up Lily at four for her school’s little talent show thing. She’s been practicing a silly dance for weeks, making me watch it every night I had the energy to pretend I was watching. “You’re coming, right, Daddy?” she asked. “You promise?” I promised.
Friday afternoon, I’m sitting at my desk, headphones in, trying to yank my brain through a spreadsheet, when a familiar tightness clamps my chest. I take a breath. Another. It doesn’t let up. My vision goes a little fuzzy at the edges.
I check the clock. 3:50. If I leave now, I can make it.
I tell myself: Just one more email. Just fix this one thing. Then go.
I look up again and it’s 4:27.
“Crap,” I say aloud, ripping my headphones off. I grab my bag, half-run to the elevator, curse at the slow doors, sprint to my car.
On the drive, my phone buzzes with texts. I don’t check them. I don’t want to see.
I pull into the school lot at 4:58, heart pounding. I jog toward the auditorium. It’s emptying. Parents filing out, kids with glitter on their faces and handmade certificates.
Emily stands near the doors with Lily. Lily’s in a sparkly shirt, hair in two lopsided pigtails, holding a crumpled ribbon. Her eyes are red. When she sees me, her face does this thing—lights up, then falters, like she’s trying to decide whether to be happy or mad.
“Hey!” I say, forcing cheer. “I’m so sorry, traffic was—”
“Traffic?” Emily says, voice flat. “Show started at four.”
“I know, I just—work ran late and—”
“You promised,” Lily says quietly. That hurts way worse than Emily’s tone.
“I know, bug,” I say, kneeling. “I’m sorry. How’d it go?”
“Fine,” she says, shrugging, looking at her shoes. The word is a knife. It’s my own word coming back to kill me. I’m fine. We’re fine. Everything’s fine.
“Mom filmed it,” she adds. “You can watch it later.”
It’s an offer. A consolation prize. I hate myself for being the kind of dad who has to watch his daughter’s life on a screen because he can’t show up when it counts.
“Yeah,” I say. “I’d love to.”
Emily just looks at me. No lecture. Somehow, that’s worse.
On the drive back to my place, Lily hums a bit of her song in the backseat. I grip the steering wheel so hard my knuckles go white. I want to cry. The feeling is so foreign it scares me. I swallow it. It goes down like a rock.
That night, after I drop Lily back at her aunt’s, I sit in my dark living room alone. The quiet isn’t peaceful. It’s accusatory.
On the coffee table, my Bible sits under a pile of mail. I don’t remember the last time I opened it for me, not for a group or to find a verse to toss at someone else.
I push the mail aside, flip it open randomly. It lands in Psalms. My eyes fall on familiar words like they’re highlighted just for me:
“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.”
No escape this time. No sermon. No small group. Just me and a sentence that won’t shut up.
I stare at the page until the letters blur. Something in my chest finally gives. Not a big cinematic break, just a tiny hairline crack.
“Okay,” I whisper. “Fine. I’m… not okay.”
The words feel like ripping duct tape off my soul. My throat burns. My eyes sting. My body, not used to this, fights it. But my arms suddenly feel too heavy to hold up. I slide off the couch onto my knees without meaning to, Bible still open on the cushion.
“I don’t know how to do this,” I mutter. “I don’t know how to be… brokenhearted. Or whatever. I don’t know how to…” I wave a hand vaguely, like God needs me to pantomime emotions.
Tears spill over. Real ones. First time in… I honestly can’t remember. Maybe when Lily was born. Maybe before that.
It feels… ridiculous. A grown man, kneeling by his IKEA couch, crying into old carpet. I half-expect lightning to strike or a worship band to appear in my hallway. Instead, it’s just me and my ragged breathing and an almost-tangible sense that something—Someone—is near.
For a second, I actually feel it. Like a warm weight on my shoulders. An invisible Presence sitting in the mess with me. Not fixing it. Just… close. The verse slams into my chest again: The Lord is close to the brokenhearted.
Maybe this is what they mean. Maybe all the sermons and testimonies and emotional people with their arms raised weren’t just making it up. Maybe God actually shows up in the raw places. Not the polished, rehearsed testimonies, but the ugly middle.
“Okay,” I whisper again. “I’m scared. Is that what you want me to say? I’m scared my dad’s gonna die and I won’t know how to grieve. I’m scared my wife’s never coming back. I’m scared I’ve already ruined my daughter’s life. I’m scared if people see how weak I am they’ll lose respect for me. I’m scared you’re not actually here and I’m just talking to my furniture.”
It all comes out in a rush. Confession, sort of. Not the respectable kind you share in group. The embarrassing kind.
For about thirty seconds, it feels like the safest place in the world.
Then, just as quickly, another voice kicks in. Not literal, not demonic, just… me. The old script.
Stop crying, be a man.
Crying won’t fix your marriage. Emotions won’t get you a raise. Vulnerability won’t put food on the table. You’re kneeling on a stained carpet, talking to someone you can’t see, while your actual life is on fire. Get up. Be practical. Make a plan. God helps those who help themselves. (Which, by the way, isn’t in the Bible, but I quote it like it is.)
I scrub my face with my hands, annoyed at the dampness. The Presence I felt a moment ago suddenly feels distant again. Or maybe I just pushed it away.
“Yeah, okay,” I say out loud, like I’m closing a meeting. “That was… something.”
I stand up, legs stiff. The room looks the same. Couch. TV. Empty picture hooks where our family photo used to hang before Emily took it. No angels. No burning bush. Just my stupid, beating heart and the hum of the fridge.
My phone buzzes on the table. It’s a notification from some Bible app I downloaded months ago and never use: “He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds. – Psalm 147:3”
The timing is creepy. Or perfect. Or both.
I hover over the notification, feel the temptation to sink back down, to lean in, to actually let myself be wounded in front of God. To admit that I’m not just “off” or “tired” but actually… broken.
Instead, I swipe the notification away.
“I don’t have time to fall apart,” I mutter.
I open a browser and type the same old sites into the search bar. The algorithm knows me well. It feeds me what I want: distraction. Control. A world where nakedness is scripted and no one expects anything from me.
Later, in bed, I stare at the ceiling and tell myself I’ll call the counselor tomorrow. Or the day after. Or after this project. Or after Dad’s next appointment. Or after Emily gives me another ultimatum. There will always be a better time to be honest than now.
Months pass.
The project at work launches. It’s not a disaster, but it’s not the triumph it could’ve been. My performance review is “meets expectations” with a few pointed notes about “needing to delegate better” and “watching interpersonal tone under stress.” Translation: You’re slipping, man.
I don’t get fired. I also don’t get the promotion I’d been quietly gunning for. Jeff gives the lead on the next big project to Sarah—the junior dev I snapped at.
“She’s showed a lot of initiative,” he tells me in his office. “And you, honestly… you seem like you’ve got a lot on your plate. Thought this might be a good time for you to take a step back, catch your breath.”
Step back. Catch my breath. It’s like there’s this conspiracy in the universe to get me to stop pretending I’m okay.
I nod, say the right things. “Totally understand. Happy for her.” Inside, I feel humiliated. Replaced. Useless.
I don’t tell Emily. We barely talk beyond logistics anyway. The counselor’s number is still on a sticky note on my fridge. I move it occasionally when I wipe the counters. I’ve memorized the digits without ever dialing.
Lily spends every other weekend with me. We do what I think dads are supposed to do. We go to the park. We get ice cream. We watch movies. I make sure she’s buckled in right and that she brushes her teeth. I tell myself that’s enough. That love is mostly showing up and making sure they don’t die.
But sometimes, when she’s coloring at the table or building something with Legos on the floor, she’ll look up and just… watch me. Like she’s trying to figure out something she doesn’t have the words for yet.
One Sunday, as I’m dropping her back at her aunt’s place, she hugs me tighter than usual.
“Daddy?” she says into my shirt.
“Yeah, bug?”
“Are you sad?”
The question catches me off guard. I pull back, look at her small face. Her eyes are big, searching.
“Why do you ask?” I say.
“You look sad,” she says simply. “And Mommy looks sad. And Aunt Claire says it’s okay to be sad. But you always say you’re fine.”
The word stings again. Fine. My mask.
“I’m okay,” I say automatically.
She tilts her head. “It’s okay if you’re sad,” she says. “I won’t be scared.”
I should say it. Right there. To my seven-year-old. “Yeah, I’m sad. I miss you when you’re not here. I miss Mommy. I’m scared I messed up.” That would be vulnerability. Not oversharing, just honesty.
Instead, I pat her shoulder. “Don’t worry about me, kiddo,” I say. “That’s my job. To worry about you. You just be a kid, okay?”
She nods slowly, like she’s filing away data for later. “Okay,” she says. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” I say, and it’s the one thing I’m absolutely sure of.
After she runs inside, I sit in my car and grip the steering wheel. I feel like I’m standing on the edge of a cliff, staring down at a body of water that might save me or drown me. The jump is admitting weakness. The cliff is made of all the years I spent being told that men don’t cry, don’t talk, don’t crack.
I don’t jump.
Instead, I drive to church.
It’s easier to go when I don’t have Emily giving me side-eye during worship because I’m scrolling my phone under the seat. I can just show up, say hi to people, drink bad coffee, sing words I barely think about, nod through another sermon about some aspect of the Christian life I’m supposedly living.
Today, though, the pastor does something different. He doesn’t preach. He brings a guy up to share his story.
The guy is in his forties, shaved head, tattoos, looks like he could bench-press me. He takes the mic, clears his throat.
“I used to think being a man meant never showing weakness,” he says. My spine goes rigid. “My dad was old-school. ‘Quit crying, tough it out,’ that kind of thing. I brought that into my marriage, my friendships, even my faith. I believed in Jesus, but I didn’t actually trust Him with anything that made me look bad. Or weak.”
People chuckle. I don’t.
He talks about an affair. About losing his job. About almost losing his kids. Then he talks about the night he finally broke down on his kitchen floor, sobbing, telling God he was done pretending. How Psalm 34:18 popped into his head—“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted”—and how, for the first time, he actually felt it.
“I thought vulnerability would make me lose respect,” he says. “But hiding was what was killing me. My secrets hardened my heart. I was a shell. It wasn’t until I got honest—with God, with my wife, with some guys from this church—that anything changed.”
The sanctuary is dead quiet. People are leaning in. A couple of visibly tough dudes are wiping their eyes. I sit there, arms crossed, jaw clenched.
He keeps going. “I still struggle with pride. I still want to put on the strong face. But I’ve tasted what it’s like to let people see the cracks. And I’ve tasted what it’s like to have God meet me there, not when I’ve got it together but when I’m a mess. And I’ll tell you this: there’s more life in that than in all the years I spent playing the rock.”
Somewhere deep inside, something in me is nodding. Yes. That. Do that. Say something. Move.
I don’t.
After service, people swarm him. Thank you for sharing. That was powerful. I walk past, give a noncommittal nod. Inside, I’m seething. Not at him. At myself. At the distance between what I know is true and what I’m willing to live.
In the parking lot, my phone buzzes. Marcus again.
How are you really?
There’s that word. Really.
I stand in the cold air, thumb hovering.
I’m falling apart but pretending I’m not, I type. I delete it.
I’m tired, I type. Delete.
I settle on: I’m good. God’s got me.
Even my lies are wrapped in Christianese.
I don’t hit send yet. I stare at the blinking cursor. Beside me, a guy straps his toddler into a car seat, kisses his wife, laughs at something she says. Normal. Messy. Human.
The phrase from the testimony loops in my head: Hiding was what was killing me. My secrets hardened my heart.
I feel my own heart. Not metaphorically. Literally. My chest. It feels… hard. Numb. Like it should hurt more than it does.
Do I want God that close? Close to the brokenhearted sounds nice until you realize it means you have to admit you’re brokenhearted. Not over business, not over some abstract injustice. Over your own life. Your own choices. Your own refusal to be weak.
I could tell Marcus. Right now. I could say, “I’m not okay. Can we talk?” He’d answer. He’d show up. I know he would.
Instead, I backspace my half-typed message.
I send him a thumbs-up emoji.
That’s my spiritual state in one tiny yellow hand.
I get in my car, close the door, and the world goes quiet again. Just me, the dashboard, the buzz of the engine.
I think about Psalm 34:18. I think about my mom in that hospital chair, whispering it over my dad. I think about Emily at the kitchen table, begging me to let her in. I think about Lily asking if I’m sad and promising she wouldn’t be scared.
I think about the night on my knees by the couch, the fleeting sense that God was actually, tangibly near when I finally let something crack.
And I think about how fast I slammed that door shut.
That’s the thing no one tells you about vulnerability. You can get a glimpse of it, taste it for thirty seconds, and still decide you’d rather be alone in a locked room than risk anyone seeing you naked in your soul.
So that’s where I am.
In the car. In the locked room. Playing the part I’ve played my whole life.
The rock.
From the outside, I still look solid. Steady job. Decent clothes. Church attendance. A few Bible verses I can quote if needed. A daughter who still hugs me. A wife who hasn’t technically divorced me… yet.
Inside, I know the truth.
I’m not a rock. I’m a man-shaped shell built around a frightened kid who learned early that tears equal weakness and weakness equals rejection. I never unlearned it. I baptized it, gave it Bible verses, dressed it up in productivity and moral respectability.
Maybe one day I’ll break for real. Call the counselor. Call Marcus. Call out to God and not shut Him down when He shows up. Maybe I’ll finally let someone see how much I’m not okay and discover that maybe—just maybe—weakness isn’t the end of my story but the door to something like real strength.
But today?
Today I turn the key in the ignition, watch my reflection in the rearview mirror as I back out. My face is calm. Controlled. Unreadable.
Ask anyone who sees me drive away how I’m doing, and they’ll say the same thing.
He’s good. He’s strong. He’s the rock.
They’d be half right.
The other half?
The rock is crumbling. And I’m the only one who can hear it.
Author’s Note
I wrote this story because “I’m fine” has become one of the most dangerous lies men tell.
Not because everything has to turn into a group-therapy overshare, but because a lot of us have learned that being a man means one thing above all: don’t crack. Don’t cry. Don’t need. Don’t ask for help. Just keep performing—at work, at home, at church—and hope nobody notices how much of it is duct tape and denial.
Matt is fictional, but the patterns are not. The late-night anxiety. The quiet porn habit as a pressure valve. The marriage that looks stable from the outside but is running on fumes. The way “being strong” becomes a way to avoid being known. I didn’t want to write a neat testimony with a bow at the end. I wanted to sit in that awful in-between space where a man knows he’s not okay and still chooses to keep hiding.
If you picked up on the tension around Psalm 34:18—“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit”—that was intentional. The verse is there like a constant background noise in Matt’s life. He hears it from his mom, at church, in group, on his Bible app. The problem isn’t that God is silent; it’s that Matt refuses to be the kind of man that verse is written for: brokenhearted, crushed, honest.
Underneath all the details, this story is about fear of vulnerability:
- Fear of losing respect if you admit weakness
- Fear of not knowing what to do with your own emotions if you stop stuffing them
- Fear that if you open up to God or other men, you’ll be met with judgment or awkward silence instead of real presence
The tragedy for Matt isn’t a dramatic car crash or public scandal. It’s the slow erosion of his soul and relationships because he clings to the image of “the rock” more than he clings to God or the people who actually love him. He gets glimpses of another way—a raw confession at men’s group, a quiet moment on the carpet where he finally lets himself cry, a daughter asking if he’s sad—and he still pulls back. That’s the haunting part. Nothing changes… and yet everything is slowly falling apart.
If this story resonated with you at all, even uncomfortably, that’s kind of the point. Not to shame you, not to diagnose you, and definitely not to tell you what you “have to” do. Just to hold up a mirror of what it actually looks like when hiding becomes a lifestyle.
Some men crash hard and obvious. Others, like Matt, just slowly harden. Their job title still works. Their faith still has all the right words. Their family still posts decent photos. But the inside is hollow. And the thing about hollowness is that it echoes. It haunts.
The core idea behind this whole series is simple and costly: Vulnerability is not an optional add-on to the Christian life or to healthy masculinity. It’s the doorway. To real brotherhood. To actual intimacy in marriage. To a faith that’s more than performance. To experiencing the God who is “close to the brokenhearted,” not to the perfectly put-together.
What you do with that is up to you. This story doesn’t end with Matt calling the counselor or breaking down in front of Marcus or sprinting back to Emily with a grand apology. It stops where a lot of men actually are: still in the car, still saying “I’m good,” still sending a thumbs-up emoji instead of telling the truth.
If anything in you recognized yourself in that final scene, don’t rush past it. Sit with the discomfort. Ask yourself, honestly, where you’re playing “the rock” and what it’s costing you. And if you decide to talk to God, or to a friend, or to a counselor about it—that’s your story. Not Matt’s. And it doesn’t have to end the way his does.
Call to Action
If this story struck a chord, don’t just scroll on. Join the brotherhood—men learning to build, not borrow, their strength. Subscribe for more stories like this, drop a comment about where you’re growing, or reach out and tell me what you’re working toward. Let’s grow together.
D. Bryan King
Sources
- Psalm 34:18 – The Lord is close to the brokenhearted
- John 11:33-35 – Jesus wept
- 2 Corinthians 12:9-10 – Power made perfect in weakness
- James 5:16 – Confess your sins to each other
- APA – Men and Mental Health: Why Men Are Less Likely to Seek Help
- APA Monitor – The Crisis in Masculinity and Emotional Expression
- Masculinity and Help-Seeking: Implications for Depression and Suicide Risk (PubMed)
- Gottman Institute – How Emotional Withdrawal Destroys Relationships
- Pornography Use and Relationship Satisfaction (NCBI)
- Psychology Today – Why Vulnerability Is Essential for Healthy Relationships
- BibleProject – The Bible and Emotions
- Desiring God – The Power of Admitting Weakness
- The Gospel Coalition – Real Men Cry
- Barna – Masculinity, Identity, and the Church
Disclaimer:
The views and opinions expressed in this post are solely those of the author. The information provided is based on personal research, experience, and understanding of the subject matter at the time of writing. Readers should consult relevant experts or authorities for specific guidance related to their unique situations.
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CW: The police killings of George Floyd and Breonna Taylor were sparks that reignited smoldering fury against authorities across the globe. One of the most watched locations has been Seattle, where protestors barricaded off a cop-free zone, drawing outsize attention and, in the process, forming a new case study in the uses of technology both to […]
♲ @[email protected]:For Seattle’s cop-free protest zone, tech is both a revolutionary asset and disastrous liability
The police killings of George Floyd and Breonna Taylor were sparks that reignited smoldering fury against authorities across the globe. One of the most watched locations has been Seattle, where protestors barricaded off a cop-free zone, drawing outsize attention and, in the process, forming a new case study in the uses of technology both to advance a cause and to drown it in disinformation.
From the actual recording of Floyd’s killing and the protests and riots that followed, to documenting the police’s brutal response and sudden withdrawal, to the establishment of and widespread commentary on an improvised community, technology has played a crucial role throughout. But to center things properly, it is how people are using technology, not the technology itself, that has become more important.
More than ever before, information truly is power, and imbalances in who holds that power have been both reinforced and challenged in the course of events here. It’s heartening to see live streaming and instant distribution of video lead to accountability, but it’s also sickening to see deliberate campaigns to manipulate and subvert reality — and I say reality because it’s what I’ve seen with my own eyes. As a brief preamble, I should disclose some things.
First, I support the causes being advanced by protestors in Seattle. It would be useless to deny that I have taken sides here — partly because claims of objectivity are little more than a fig leaf for editorial decisions in matters of grave injustice and obvious abuses of power; but my presence at the protests has unavoidably been documented whether I like it or not, so there’s no sense in denying it.
Because second, I live on Capitol Hill, just blocks away from the zone. I’ve been eyewitness to important events, (with a built-in tech angle at that) and it would be irresponsible for me not to use the privilege of this platform to share aspects of them that have been only sporadically covered.
And third, these protests have been organized and led by people of color, and I am a white guy who, comparatively, has only barely taken part. On issues of race, policing, and inclusion I will defer to others better equipped to educate: writers like Ijeoma Oluo (whom we recently interviewed), researchers like Joy Buolamwini, and publications like Blavity.
With that out of the way, this article will focus on three topics: The collection and use of digital media on both sides of police clashes; the use of social media and battle of information versus disinformation in the cop-free zone; and the emergence of live streaming as an indispensable medium for this and future movements.A matter of perspective
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Image Credits: JASON REDMOND/AFP / Getty Images
The initial protests in Seattle in late May, which devolved in some locations into riots involving the despoliation and destruction of police cruisers (somehow left unattended and filled with weapons), are difficult to track because they were full of movement and chaos. But they were thoroughly, if haphazardly, documented by attendees with the presence of mind to record what they were seeing.
It’s telling that there has been little or no attempt at a counter-narrative from Seattle authorities when their officers were repeatedly (and continually as of this writing) filmed employing plainly excessive force against unarmed, often unresisting protestors, or indiscriminately firing tear gas, pepper spray, and flashbangs into crowds. One woman’s heart stopped three times after being struck by a blast ball that appeared to be deliberately aimed at her, while thousands watched.
Where, one wonders, is the exonerating footage from the police side showing the protestors being described as aggressive, or non-compliant, or whatever key words officers use to justify brutality during a melee of their own creation? And yet the police are at a loss. Presented with innumerable examples of bad behavior, the force seems to have decided day after day to stand fast and let it blow over.
But it’s hard to do that when you have something like a video going viral of a child who’s been maced:
https://www.youtube.com/embed/uKdqmBN744U?version=3&rel=1&fs=1&autohide=2&showsearch=0&showinfo=1&iv_load_policy=1&wmode=transparent
This image, which came to represent the Seattle PD’s inhumane treatment of protestors (they stand by wielding batons as the crying kid is treated), was taken by a local named Evan Hreha. It’s hard to erase such a powerful image — so they arrested him.
Hreha was arrested a week later by a dozen officers and booked into jail for, supposedly, pointing a laser at police. It hardly needs to be said that this account strains credibility. For one thing, Hreha says he was running a hot dog stand with friends at the time of the alleged offense. But it is absurd that police would or could identify one person in a crowd at a distance, then investigate and arrest them — for anything, let alone a fleeting non-violent laser use. And it just happens to be the man behind a viral video that makes the cops look bad.
This seems to be plainly a case of retaliation, but the police have made themselves unaccountable by controlling the information available. I contacted the records department to ask for anything related to the investigation and arrest of Hreha (among others), but it will be months before the police will release anything, if indeed they ever do.
Hreha was released two days later with no charges filed. But the chilling effect of intimidating someone who caught police in an act of brutality on camera had been accomplished. The officer who maced the kid, incidentally, has yet to be officially identified or disciplined.Does tech have the guts to deploy its resources against police brutality?
https://techcrunch.com/2020/06/09/does-tech-have-the-guts-to-deploy-its-resources-against-police-brutality/embed/#?secret=gdf5qC5tCH
This is exemplary of the power imbalance in conflicts of this type: On one side, voluminous documentation from people on the ground that is disorganized and difficult to bring to bear; on the other, documentation that is carefully organized and tightly controlled, allowing the exertion of authority using that control as leverage. Police have also begun the process of repurposing news and protestor footage for their own purposes.
But this story doesn’t always play out the way the cops would prefer.
In the first week of June, protestors were marching up Pine to confront the police for this and other acts, after which they would have, like many similar protests, moved on to rally in Volunteer Park and then gone home, to do it again another day. But police blocked them at 11th and Pine with a barricade and line of police in riot gear.
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SEATTLE, WA – JUNE 08: A person holds flowers as demonstrators clash with police near the Seattle Police Departments East Precinct shortly after midnight on June 8, 2020 in Seattle, Washington.
The group did not disperse as ordered, saying they would stay and protest peacefully until the police moved out of the way. Predictably, when curfew came, the police were liberal in their deployment of tear gas and flashbangs, causing serious harm to some protestors and terror across the entire neighborhood. This continued and grew in intensity for several days and nights. (In many cities these clashes are ongoing.)
The justification for using their “less lethal” tools with such gusto was predictable: The crowd was violent, throwing bricks and even improvised explosives at officers. But these claims were repeatedly and firmly dismantled, because these encounters were filmed in high definition from multiple angles, practically from start to finish.
https://www.youtube.com/embed/D5sQt_bQS4A?version=3&rel=1&fs=1&autohide=2&showsearch=0&showinfo=1&iv_load_policy=1&wmode=transparent
One particularly revealing video was shot by a person on a roof directly over the barriers. It quite clearly shows a peaceful crowd chanting and definitely not throwing rocks and bottles. Anyone can review it and see that there was not only no violence on the part of protestors, but that the flashpoint moment occurred (documented in other videos as well) when a cop tore a now-famous pink umbrella from the grip of a person, who in offering any resistance provided the excuse for the police to retaliate — indiscriminately and utterly disproportionately.
Huge volumes of evidence of police brutality have resulted almost solely from the oft-mocked habit of young people to always have their phone in hand. (We’re not far from the always-recording situation I posited nearly 10 years ago.)
“They picked the wrong generation to pull this shit on,” said TK, a protest organizer I spoke with. “Because governments didn’t create this power — this was created by normal, regular-smegular people just like all of us. The only people that can stop it is the people that created it.”
Rarely have the police released images or footage of their own, and when they do it is often a brutal self-own. They posted images of the aforementioned “improvised explosive” on Twitter shortly after one group assault on protestors, and within seconds people had pointed out it was a prayer candle, probably from a nearby memorial smashed during the melee. The police revised their reference to it as an “incendiary device,” which, while technically true, exposes the type of willful obscuration of the truth that was frequently to be found in the department’s communications.
Following another incident, body cam footage was released to support the narrative that a “violent crowd” had prevented the police from reaching a shooting victim in the protest zone and were therefore culpable in his death. People soon pointed out that timestamps visible in the video show that the cops arrived 20 minutes after the shooting, and after the victim had been taken to the hospital in a private car — because EMTs (for good reason) would not enter the scene before police secured it.We now know that the public statement put out by Seattle Police following the shooting at CHOP on Friday night, was mostly fictitious, as revealed by their own bodycam footage. They showed up 10 minutes later than they claim, after the victim had been transported to Harborview. pic.twitter.com/wN62gQxX8c
— Spek the Lawless (@spekulation) June 22, 2020
When the police chief made claims of rape and violence in the protest zone, it was pointed out that the SPD’s own crime reports system showed no such thing. Then her claim that armed gangs were extorting local businesses was quickly put down as well, by the businesses themselves — embarrassingly, the source of that claim was a totally invented account on a right-wing blog. (Ironically, once the police retook the zone, businesses quickly complained that their presence had forced them to close.)
And of course there are the innumerable videos, here as elsewhere, of extreme force being used on unresisting protestors, frequently with the apparently now requisite knee on the neck. These will hopefully prove useful later as counterbalance to police claims, and while officers still obscure their badges and refuse to identify themselves, the quality of the video makes identifying them by other means trivial.Cops attack peaceful protestors at Broadway and Pine. 5:30pm July 2nd. Dive tackled the kid next to me, put a knee on his neck. Can’t stress enough he did nothing.
Please share.#SeattleProtests #SeattleProtestComm #Seattle pic.twitter.com/mI5DTASEI4
— eli (@sre_li) July 3, 2020
The digital record has resulted in officers, the department and the chief being caught in lie after lie after lie. These are not misunderstandings or honest mistakes but misrepresentations deliberately crafted to discredit protestors and shield the department. It’s clear that if others were not carefully documenting every encounter, and critically investigating police statements and evidence, the lies would have shortly become the only, and therefore the true, record of what happened.
What I’ve described took place in Seattle, but others have compiled abuses in L.A., New York, Portland, and Chicago — where cops have just been caught in another type of large-scale manipulation of the record.
Now in many cities these departments are facing cuts or total defunding, as much as the result of their failure to successfully falsify the narrative as their more fundamental failures as institutions.
“This generation is not dumb, as much as they want to believe that. ‘You guys are just a bunch of dumb kids.’ Okay, well, this bunch of dumb kids is about to get the city to take half of your budget,” said TK. “So we ain’t that dumb, apparently.”
A last example of the power of social media in the pursuit of problematic police came late in the writing of this piece. After two protestors were struck and one killed on a closed highway after a driver circumvented police barriers, a detective from the King county Sheriff’s office made several brutally offensive posts on Facebook — public ones.
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These were spotted by concerned citizens, who took screenshots not just of the content but also the list of people who had liked or commented positively on the posts, looking them up, as well. This proved to be a shrewd tactic, for when the posts began to make waves online, Brown’s entire Facebook page was deleted.
Turns out Detective Brown is not only Governor Jay Inslee’s cousin, but reportedly also the head of county executive Dow Constantine’s security detail and his sometime driver; a 40-year veteran of the force who has been accused of abusive behavior before. Within 48 hours Detective Brown was on leave and being investigated. One hopes that the officers and public officials who publicly endorsed Brown’s behavior will soon be confronted, as well. But how quickly this avenue of recourse would have disappeared had they been tipped off.
Keeping the cops honest is a welcome application of what might be termed citizen forensics, but social media would soon provide a counter-example of technology being deployed to discredit the protestors and mislead millions.In the Zone
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A rally at the cop-free zone on Capitol Hill on June 10.
Believe it or not, the Capitol Hill Autonomous Zone wasn’t anyone’s idea.
The now infamous cop-free area barricaded off by protestors has been profiled frequently and, almost without exception, incompletely and inaccurately, in mainstream news and on social media. It’s an instructive but deeply frustrating example of how, as the old saying goes, “A lie can travel halfway around the world before the truth can get its boots on.”
A very brief origin story is as follows: On June 8, following a particularly violent yet ultimately unsuccessful attempt to purge the area of protestors the previous night, the police abruptly announced they would be leaving the East Precinct building, taking all valuables, weapons, and sensitive documents with them.
Protestors were astonished. They had not asked for this and had no reason to — their demands were about defunding the police, investing in the community, and releasing jailed protestors. Incredibly, even now no one has taken responsibility for ordering the abandonment; the mayor and police chief have both denied doing so. But abandon it, they did.
Protestors immediately continued marching, some continuing to Volunteer Park and others remaining behind, citing the need to protect the precinct from anyone who might want to damage it, for days on end if necessary and at all hours. If you’re skeptical, remember: This is all on video. People learned early on that many people only believe what they have seen, and even then only sometimes.
Since a car had nearly plowed through protestors the previous day and the driver actually shot someone (before being gently taken into custody by police), and hearing reports of right-wing agitators in the area, the protestors redeployed the barriers to make a safe zone at the ends of nearby streets. Someone spray painted “Capitol Hill Autonomous Zone” on one, inadvertently branding the whole movement.‘Welcome to Free Capitol Hill’ — Capitol Hill Autonomous Zone forms around emptied East Precinct — UPDATE
https://www.capitolhillseattle.com/2020/06/welcome-to-free-capitol-hill-capitol-hill-autonomous-zone-forms-around-emptied-east-precinct/embed/#?secret=qUJTj18w53
What followed in the CHAZ (later the CHOP) was several days and nights of compelling events, speakers and tributes to lost lives, attended by thousands, including myself.
But what followed online was a nonstop deluge of wild exaggerations, manipulated media, racist vitriol and, of course, innumerable death threats. It would be impossible to list even a fraction of the information online that I could contradict with what I saw with my own eyes, but here are a few examples.
The most glaring one has to be, of course, Fox News photoshopping a gunman into multiple unrelated scenes of destruction and dishonestly using those as evidence of chaos in the zone. This was done so poorly it would be comical if it were not part of a larger, continuing narrative seeking to discredit the protests and zone as an antifa-run separatist state.
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One of the images run by Fox News, a combination of one by David Ryder (whose photos for Getty illustrate this piece) with two by Karen Ducey.
The separatist narrative, which persists even today, was invented and amplified by lazy or traffic-hungry outlets and pundits with little evidence besides the tongue-in-cheek name.
There was not always the need to invent controversial imagery (indeed, the gunman Fox used really existed). Video of one person handing out rifles to his crew quickly made the rounds and, combined with the police chief’s irresponsible rumor-mongering, word of a “warlord” emerged.
Without getting into the complex and largely improvisational politics of the zone, this character and his heavily armed presence were generally not approved of. But for the weeks following this event I saw the image, his name and the warlord trope posted thousands of times, coming up every single day.
It’s tempting to say it’s hard to misconstrue a guy distributing assault rifles from the back of his car. But it is testament to the fractured narrative presented online that crucial context was almost always left out or substituted by falsehoods. Not only had a gunman actually shot a protestor after driving his car into the crowd the previous day, but at the very moment of the video, the police were suspected to have been engaged in a disinformation campaign intended to provoke conflict.
Public police scanner frequencies that night (which it was known protestors were monitoring) were full of reports of a group of 20-30 armed “Proud Boys” (a far-right group) moving toward the protest zone. Bike police on scanners said they followed the group for blocks, asked where they were headed (the CHAZ), tried to dissuade them from going there, and eventually reported that they spontaneously dispersed before reaching their destination.
Now, a large group of armed men working their way up from Downtown to Capitol Hill would be a rather conspicuous sight even in those days when record numbers of armed men walked the streets. Yet none of the thousands of protestors and allies spread throughout the city watching for them saw anything matching that description during or after. No communications from known Proud Boys (some of whom would in fact show up later to attack a protestor on video) indicated a presence. More directly, police descriptions of the group crossing certain intersections were contradicted by live traffic cameras showing those intersections, which showed no such thing.
But once again the apparent police intention of provocation via misinformation had been achieved. People at the CHAZ, already justifiably worried about violence, were put on high alert and armed themselves, producing a spectacle that even now persists on social media as a way to paint the entire protest with one brush.
The repeated amplification of individual images had some troubling commonalities, in particular the barely veiled parlance of racism. People in the protest zone and especially Black men, images of whom frequently accompanied these tweets and other posts, were invariably described as “thugs,” “savages,” “animals,” “feral,” and all the rest. Tellingly, those employing this vile lexicon were seldom Seattle or Capitol Hill residents; Twitter is very efficient at importing hate.
Indeed it did not take long for the CHAZ, having achieved the dubious distinction of attracting what is called national interest, to become the target of coordinated interference, harassment and disinformation campaigns by people all over the country. The resulting mess is a concise illustration of the incredible promise and complete inadequacy of online platforms in times like these.
The number of people and groups involved in these protests had made Twitter, with its accessibility and relative permanence, an invaluable tool for the dissemination of important information. While private groups on Signal, WhatsApp and Discord were also used, it was clearly better for things like police positioning, march updates, attacks on protestors and other crucial live communications to make the information as prominent and public as possible.“There was a lot of momentum being built up, people learning and educating themselves. So this was the chance to finally put everything we’d learned into action.”
TK and her fellow organizer Tatii explained that social media was at the heart of their work, though the end result of taking to the streets was always the ultimate goal.
“Social media is a huge part because without it, we can’t do shit,” Tatii said bluntly. “When it comes to finding the information that we need and finding resources to help Black people, all of that is through technology. That’s how we network with people, that’s how people reach out to us. That’s how we get people telling us about police scanners. There are a lot of group chats, like with our medics, our car brigade, our bike brigade. It’s all through social media.”
“Scouts let us know if like there’s 30 bike cops coming down Broadway. It’s crucial when you are trying to strategically plan around that type of stuff, to keep from being cornered and boxed in,” said TK.
“At least on the Black side of social media, it’s constantly been talked about, Black Lives Matter,” added Tatii. “There was a lot of momentum being built up, people learning and educating themselves. So this was the chance to finally put everything we’d learned into action.”
It’s easy to take Twitter for granted, so we should be sure to give the platform due credit for the fundamental capability it provides. Many I’ve spoken to here emphasized that they trusted what they read from accounts with a verifiable track record more than what they saw in the perennially out-of-date local news. In fact, as Tatii and TK noted, many of their fellow organizers came to Seattle specifically to learn for themselves the truth behind mainstream reports that didn’t pass a gut test.
But the choice to publicly organize via hashtag, for all that it made important information available quickly to as many people as possible, had two major consequences.
First, it fragmented that information almost to the point of usability: One never knew whether it was #seattleprotest or #seattleprotests, #seattleprotestcomms, #seatleprotest (yes), plain old #seattle, #defundSPD, or a handful of others. This was only exacerbated with the creation of the CHAZ, which birthed a dozen new hashtags of varying quality and population. Instagram provided powerful amplification effects but little verification or network building.
Twitter also exposed this stream of important information to eager antagonists across the country, who flooded those hashtags with abuse and misinformation. Posts with images from other or past protests were used to mislead or misrepresent the present ones, and pictures of police around the area from other times were used in an attempt to spook those who had learned to be wary of SPD’s presence. Fake names and events were publicized, fake demands issued and met, and fake accounts claiming to represent protestors or the zone.
techcrunch.com/wp-content/uplo…
This post, though seen by many, was heeded by few.
The ownership of one particular account was hotly contested, and confused by such tantalizing hints as it following Huawei leadership (you can imagine the theories this spawned), and for an “official” statement ending with what appeared to be a few stray pixels from a Biden presidential campaign graphic.
Later, when attempting to provoke a “mission accomplished”-style early exit from the zone after the Mayor cut million from the police budget, the account exhorted its readers to vote for Biden. Needless to say this was not among the commonly agreed-upon demands or positions of the protests. Unless whoever was behind this strange yet prominent account exposes themselves, we may never know if it was a government plant, an agent provocateur or a practical joker, or what their intentions really are.
The enduring, chaotogenic myth that the CHAZ was an attempt to secede and form a socialist, anarchist utopia led to rebranding efforts. The misconception had become so widespread that it was decided to “officially” (as far as that concept existed in the space) change the name to the Capitol Hill Occupied Protest — then, noting the fact that Seattle itself is an “occupation” of native land, change the O to Organized.
This led to a further fragmentation of information channels: No one on the ground wanted to use #CHAZ and its relatives because it was no longer what organizers wanted to call it. But the name had entered the common parlance. So posts now needed to be #CHAZ, #CHOP, #CHOPCHAZ, and others like #CHAZSeattle and so on. It became very difficult to track an event — be it positive, like a march or speaker, or negative, like a fight or shooting — never knowing where to look or how to parse the information there.
It’s hard to overstate how effective the fractured narrative and opposing efforts were at shaping the national and global understanding of events surrounding these protests.
As they say you can never step into the same river twice, so it was on social media around the protest and the zone. The ever-shifting flow of Twitter sometimes produced absolutely vital data unavailable anywhere else, but always polluted with incomplete or premature judgments, ignorance, racism and false reports.
When I asked what digital tools were needed to better organize and avoid interference, protestors I spoke with generally said some sort of centralization and interoperability. Being able to colocate multiple feeds, authors, videos, images and static links in a dynamic, accessible way would save them huge amounts of time and effort. Certainly it would have helped to alleviate some of the problems noted above.Stream of conscience
“Live streaming and having our phones out every single day is our best form of self defense.”
Despite the shortcomings of social media at large, one digital medium that has proven itself truly indispensable to this protest and others to come is live streaming.
Although the technology has risen to mainstream popularity as a new form of passive entertainment on Twitch and other live platforms, it quickly became clear that it was the technology of choice for documenting these and other protests and social movements.
As TK put it: “People are visual learners; until they see it for themselves they don’t really believe it. And when it’s live, it’s live. You’re not seeing the cut, clipped and edited version. You can’t dispute what you see in raw live footage. You can’t ignore it.”
In Seattle, two people have become familiar faces, or voices, as they have doggedly documented every step of the protests this way, from before the CHOP to well after: Omari Salisbury and Joey Wieser.
techcrunch.com/wp-content/uplo…
Image Credits: Jake Gravbot
Salisbury runs Converge Media, an independent web-distributed news organization. He comes from a broadcast and networking background, and when the CHOP emerged literally outside his doorstep — the studio door opened onto the police line before officers left — he took the opportunity to share the story, as objectively as possible. To him, the only tool that fit the bill was live streaming.
“The viewer needs to be able to see the context, because if the viewer can’t see the context, then it becomes something else,” he said. “People appreciate us because the stream is long, we keep the camera there and we let people make their own decisions.”
He was there not just for the controversial or terrifying moments, like clashes between provocateurs and protestors, or the shootings that occurred later on, but for the huge number of peaceful hours when people would share their own experiences at Salisbury’s prompting. The result is an incredibly valuable archive of hundreds of hours of live footage, ground truth from inside the zone that has been watched by millions.
Joey Wieser has no media background, but rather just a passing familiarity with the systems and social media methods that can grab people’s attention. Yet his stream came to be relied on by many, and the events he captured also racked up millions of views, simply because he decided to take advantage of the tools at his disposal.“It's not that we don't have umbrellas. We just never met a storm worthy of one.
Until this week.” -Seattle pic.twitter.com/STGnwIc3sZ
— Joey Wieser (@itsjosephryan) June 8, 2020
“Live streaming and having our phones out every single day is our best form of self defense. Every day that I walk out my doorstep, I hold my phone as if it is my ultimate shield, my ultimate weapon,” he said. “Without it, I feel like I don’t have a role in this movement. It’s not like I’m some prolific live streamer, or that I know what Black communities need best. I’m just some white guy and I happen to work in tech. Having an understanding of what social media best practices look like, understanding analytics and social amplification — that combined with my community activism allowed me to come out here and do this.”
For Wieser, having the right connections or network was less important than being in the right place at the right time, even if it put him in danger. (He and Omari were both tear gassed multiple times and near shootings and other altercations.)
“I think it really puts the viewer at home in the driver’s seat,” he said. “Because they’re able to not only watch an uninterrupted stream, but to engage and have a real live conversation with somebody that’s there on the ground. You know, they can say, hey, turn to the left. What was that? It’s a participatory experience in a way watching the news doesn’t allow.”
One such incident I saw play out almost defies belief. Wieser was streaming the protest when a truck blasted through, nearly hitting several people. Minutes later, a person watching the stream was surprised when that very truck pulled up outside their apartment — it was their DoorDash driver, who announced proudly that they had just run down some protestors. (The driver’s plates and info were quickly sent through the proper channels.)THE PLOT THICKENS: The man in this truck is a driver for @DoorDash and was making a delivery. The customer was literally watching the livestream as the silver truck pulled up outside their home. pic.twitter.com/di1eI9bQjE
— Joey Wieser (@itsjosephryan) July 1, 2020
Being a two-way medium, it provides new opportunities for interference as well as engagement. Both Salisbury and Wieser experienced repeated attempts to pollute their comment sections or attack them personally.
“It’s not lost on me that this amplification can be used against us, but I think one of the important things about live streaming is that you can inject your own narrative, rather than let it be to the whim of, you know, Fox News or Sinclair,” said Wieser. “Regardless of whether or not the trolls take it over in the comment sections or in the hashtags, if you’re actually listening to the content, and if you’ve got someone out here who has the right heart and the right passion and the right analysis, you can reclaim that narrative.”“The citizen journalist has always existed. They just never had the tools to be on equal footing with national news.”
Salisbury, for his part, expressed that it is not always sufficient to simply document — one has to report, and that’s what he does.
“People rock with me because just turning on the camera and streaming, it’s not enough. Knowing the history of Seattle, the history of the neighborhood, understanding political positions… and you got to put paint where it ain’t, you know what I’m saying? The citizen journalist has always existed. They just never had the tools to be on equal footing with national news,” he said.
“People underestimate the tech that’s out there, especially the free stuff,” he continued. “I know people have their views about platforms and privacy. And I think that’s a different discussion. But I will say that what’s going on here allows for citizen journalists to touch the world. I used to build OTT and streaming platforms in Europe and across Africa. So understanding the actual technology that goes into this, man, I really don’t take no stream for granted. I’ve got people in Australia who’ve been on since day one. What if I had to cultivate that through my own contacts, do my own server, do my own everything? How would I reach them? It doesn’t work that way.”
He credits live streaming with putting pressure on local and national outlets to up their game, as well — being showed up by one person with a phone doesn’t look good for a major news organization.
“Citizen journalists and streamers came out here and forced the local media to change their whole game,” he said. “I mean, a guy with a cell phone didn’t get no respect back in the day. But I had my interviews with the mayor before anybody, my interviews with Chief Best before anybody. You see what I’m saying? I’m just a guy with a phone. Now the Seattle Times has a streamer out here. This situation has made the media adapt new technology.”
While live broadcasts have been part of local and national news for decades, it was in truth a totally different medium. But it’s now difficult to imagine coverage of events like these without modern live streaming, and legacy media have begun to recognize that. Technology has always been a double-edged sword. The events in Seattle and across the country have illustrated this powerfully, and it seems unarguable that whatever happens in terms of policy and politics, the nature of protesting and the power dynamic that has defined it for decades has begun to change.
Ultimately, though, the power does not belong to the tech, but to the people.
“Technology plays a big part in all this, but I’m gonna be real with you, what you need is more old fashioned beating your feet to the streets,” concluded TK. “It’s not that the technology is insufficient, but that people are choosing not to use technology to understand.
“We’ve proven it time and time again that the only ones that really got our back is us.”
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Kiki’s Delivery Service (1989) – Review
By the end of the 80s, Studio Ghibli was cooking, creatively speaking, but was still finding it tough to get the appropriate amount of traction at the box office. While disscussing something as crass as money when dealing with the type of creative alchemy that have given audiences back to back movies that casually enriched the soul, the simple fact of the matter is, Ghibli was still in its relative infancy and anime had yet to make that relentless, worldwide breakout that still wouldn’t occur for a few couple of years yet. However, with Kiki’s Delivery Service, the studio would finally enjoy financial success to go with the fact that in under a decade, they’d been doling out straight-up masterpieces while other animation houses (cough * Disney * cough) had noticably struggled during the decade.
Let’s not forget that Ghibli released both My Neighbour Totoro and Grave Of The Fireflies in the same year, a feat that showed the emotional dexterity of filmmakers who delivered polar opposite assaults on our emotional well-being. But what did it take to help the house of Totoro get flush? Nothing much, just a thirteen year-old witch and a flying broom.In a world where witches live alongside humans in harmony despite being relatively rare, we meet Kiki, a thirteen year-old girl who decides its time for her to attempt the tradition all witches her age must do – leave home and live an independent life for a year. While that seems a little much to ask any child, Kiki not only is kind and resourceful, but she has the ability to soar through the sky on her broom and has Jiji, her feline familiar, to keep her company. However, after leaving home she soon encounters a number of minor obstacles such as another, pretentious witch and a rain storm that causes her to first drift off course and then take refuge in a box car until the rain chooses to relent.
However, upon waking up, Kiki finds that she and Jiji have arrived in the city of Koriko and decides to stay and try to make a life for herself – but while she’s enamored of the view of the ocean that she has, her small town upbringing leaves her unprepared for how tough life and lonely can be in a bustling city. Still, the plucky child manages to find a place to live with a kindly woman and her husband who own a bakery and so figures out how to channel her paranormal talents into a form of self employment.
Using her talents of flying on her broomstick, Kiki starts up her own small scale delivery service as she can simply zip across the sky with a parcel and drop it off at it’s destination in no time at all. However, despite the kindness of a lot of her early customers and the constant attention of a local boy named Tombo, Kiki soon finds that forging a life in a big city can be fairly trying and as isolation and depression sets in, she finds that some of her witchy gifts are starting to leave her as the day to day pressures take their toll.The irony of Ghibli’s first financially successful film being about a thirteen year-old going out and starting her own business isn’t lost on me, but there was always a danger that anything that attempted to follow Isao Takahata’s emotion-flaying Grave Of The Fireflies was going to come across as unbelievably twee – after all, the lethally sad wartime drama had been repeatedly hailed as one of the greatest animated movies ever made and proved to be an unforgettable experience. However, the magic of Hayao Miyazaki is that he’s able to benevolently weaponise things that are ridiculously nice in ways that make even the most basic plots warm your heart. For example, on the surface, My Neighbour Totoro wasn’t really about anything really and just followed the lives of two young girls who were excited about moving house and casually had low-energy adventures with a burly, sleepy forest spirit. And yet, despite having no antagonist, no jokes and no action sequences to speak of, Miyazaki turned such unassuming touch points into genuine chicken soup for the soul.
Well, with Kiki’s Delivery Service pulls off the same trick by adapting Eiko Kadono’s novel into yet another beguiling fantasy that, technically speaking, doesn’t fall back on the majority of animated tropes popular at the time. Once again, Miyazaki shrewdly tells another tale that not only proves that he accurately can put himself (and the viewer) in the shoes of a prepubescent girl encountering the world for the first time, but he impressively doesn’t make it creepy either. On top of this, the movie scatters numerous instances about the film that sees a lot of good advice and protection offered to Kiki by an arry of vastly different, but all equally strong women. From Osono the baker generously giving our heroine a place to stay, to the kindly old women who call Kiki to deliver pies baked with pure love to ungrateful grandchildren on their birthdays, to her encounter with jean-short wearing artist, Ursula who lives in the nearby forest, the young witch is given countless life advice by strong mature women to counteract the rather cold and vapid reaction she gets from girls her own age.Once again, detailing how rich and glorious the animation is is now starting to feel somewhat redundant, but I’ll still say that no one in animation can animate grass blowing on a strong breeze quite like the hard working scribblers who work under the Ghibli umbrella – and if that looks good, imagine how good the flying stuff looks. Yep, Miyazaki’s documented weakness for all things that fly gets yet another outing, although its amusing that for all the high flying heroines that’s populated his films, Kiki has moments where her broom flying is actually quite ungainly due to external forces or the fact that has to improvise at one moment with a brush.
But for all the dazzling wonder and memorable characters (Jiji the sassy cat is effortlessly the movie’s MVP), once again it’s those deftly buried life lessons that hit the hardest and while Kiki finds that the confidence sapping effects of modern life is draining her powers as depression set in, it’s remarkable that Miyazaki’s simple message of being true to yourself is delivered so organically when other animation houses would probably base an entire six minute musical number about it. Most remarkable of all is the fact that I would argue that Kiki’s Delivery Service actually does low-key fantasy and growing pains even better than My Neighbour Totoro did and while that final rescue sequence seems a little tacked on compared to how organic Ghibli usually is, it makes the likes of Sabrina The Teenage Witch look like purest trash in comparison.Zipping out from under the emotional heft of Grave Of The Fireflies with yet another delightful flight of fancy, Kiki’s Delivery Service not only cemented Ghibli’s standing at the box office, but delivered yet another overwhelmingly warm cinematic endevor to boot. While the titular witch may not have too many spells of her own, her movie spins more than enough magic to compensate.
#1980s #1989 #Fantasy #Animation #Anime #Japan #FilmReview #StudioGhibli #HayaoMiyazaki #KikiSDeliveryService #MinamiTakayama #ReiSakuma #KappeiYamaguchi #KeikoToda
🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟 -
Tiny Musical Intervals
Music theorists have studied many fractions of the form
2i 3j 5kthat are close to 1. They’re called 5-limit commas. Especially cherished are those that have fairly small exponents—given how close they are to 1. I discussed a bunch here:
and I explained the tiniest named one, the utterly astounding ‘atom of Kirnberger’, here:
The atom of Kirnberger equals
2161 · 3-84 · 5-12 ≈ 1.0000088728601397Two pitches differing by this ratio sound the same to everyone except certain cleverly designed machines. But remarkably, the atom of Kirnberger shows up rather naturally in music—and it was discovered by a student of Bach! Read my article for details.
All this made me want to systematically explore such tiny intervals. Below is a table of them, where I list the best ones: the ones that are closest to 1 for a given complexity. The first eleven have names, and many of them play important roles in music! But beyond that point, all but one remain unnamed—or at least I don’t know their names. That’s because they’re too small to be audible, and—except for one—not even considered to be of great theoretical importance.
I’ll list these numbers in decimal form and also in cents, where we take the logarithm of the number in base 2 and multiply by 1200. (I dislike this blend of base 2, base 10 and base 12, but it’s traditional in music theory.)
Most importantly, I list the monzo of each numbers. This is the vector of exponents: for example, the monzo of
2i 3j 5kis
[i, j, k]In case you’re wondering, this term was named after the music theorist Joseph Monzo.
Finally, I list the Tenney height of each number. This is a measure of the number’s complexity: the Tenney height of
2i 3j 5kis
∣i∣ log2(2) + ∣j∣ log2(3) + ∣k∣ log2(5)The table below purports to list only 5-limit commas that are close to 1 as possible for a given Tenney height. More precisely, it should list numbers of the form 2i 3j 5k that are > 1 and closer to 1 than any number with smaller Tenney height—except of course for 1 itself.
CentsDecimalNameMonzoTenney height498.041.3333333333just perfect fourth[2, −1, 0]3.6386.311.2500000000just major third[−2, 0, 1]4.3315.641.2000000000just minor third[1, 1, −1]4.9203.911.1250000000major tone[−3, 2, 0]6.2182.401.1111111111minor tone[1, −2, 1]6.5111.731.0666666667diatonic semitone[4, −1, −1]7.970.671.0416666667lesser chromatic semitone[−3, −1, 2]9.221.511.0125000000syntonic comma[−4, 4, −1]12.719.551.0113580247diaschisma[11, −4, −2]22.08.111.0046939300kleisma[−6, −5, 6]27.91.951.0011291504schisma[−15, 8, 1]30.01.381.0007999172unnamed?[38, −2, −15]76.00.861.0004979343unnamed?[1, −27, 18]85.60.571.0003289700unnamed?[−53, 10, 16]106.00.291.0001689086unnamed?[54, −37, 2]117.30.231.0001329015unnamed?[−17, 62, −35]196.50.0471.0000271292unnamed?[−90, −15, 49]227.50.01541.0000088729atom of Kirnberger[161, −84, −12]322.00.01151.0000066317unnamed?[21, 290, −207]961.30.000881.0000005104quark of Baez[−573, 237, 85]1146.0You’ll see there’s a big increase in Tenney height after the schisma. This is very interesting: it suggests that the schisma is the last ‘useful’ interval. It’s useful only in that it’s the ratio of two musically important commas, the syntonic comma and the Pythagorean comma. Life in music would be simpler if these were equal, and in well-tempered tuning systems it’s common to pretend that they are.
All the intervals in this table up to the schisma were discovered by musicians a long time ago, and they all have standard names! After the schisma, interest drops off dramatically.
The atom of Kirnberger has such amazing properties that it was worth naming. The rest, maybe not. But as you can see, I’ve taken the liberty of naming the smallest interval in the table the ‘quark of Baez’. This is much smaller than all that come before. It’s in bad taste to name things after oneself—indeed this is item 25 on the crackpot index—but I hope it’s allowed as a joke.
I also hope that in the future this is considered my smallest mathematical discovery.
Here is the Python code that should generate the above information. If you’re good at programming, please review it and check it! Someone gave me a gift subscription to Claude, and it (more precisely Opus 4.5) created this code. It seems to make sense, and I’ve checked a bunch of the results, but I don’t know Python.
from math import log2 log3 = log2(3) log5 = log2(5) commas = [] max_exp_3 = 1200 max_exp_5 = 250 for a3 in range(-max_exp_3, max_exp_3+1): for a5 in range(-max_exp_5, max_exp_5+1): if a3 == 0 and a5 == 0: continue # Find a2 that minimizes |a2 + a3 * log2(3) + a5 * log2(5)| target = -(a3 * log3 + a5 * log5) a2 = round(target) log2_ratio = a2 + a3 * log3 + a5 * log5 cents = abs(1200 * log2_ratio) if cents > 0.00001: # non-trivial tenney = abs(a2) + abs(a3) * log3 + abs(a5) * log5 commas.append((tenney, cents, a2, a3, a5)) # Find Pareto frontier commas.sort(key=lambda x: x[0]) # sort by Tenney height frontier = [] best_cents = float('inf') for c in commas: if c[1] < best_cents: best_cents = c[1] frontier.append(c) # Print results for tenney, cents, a2, a3, a5 in frontier: log2_ratio = a2 + a3 * log3 + a5 * log5 decimal = 2**log2_ratio if decimal < 1: decimal = 1/decimal a2, a3, a5 = -a2, -a3, -a5 print(f"{cents:.6f} cents | {decimal:.10f} | [{a2}, {a3}, {a5}] | " f"Tenney: {tenney:.1f}")Gene Ward Smith
In studying this subject I discovered that tiny 5-limit intervals were studied by Gene Ward Smith, a mathematician I used to see around on sci.math and the like. I never knew he worked on microtonal music! I am sad to hear that he died from COVID-19 in January 2021.
I may just be redoing a tiny part of his work: if anyone can find details, please let me know. In his memory, I’ll conclude with this article from the Xenharmonic Wiki:
#FindGene Ward Smith (1947–2021) was an American mathematician, music theorist, and composer.
In mathematics, he worked in the areas of Galois theory and Moonshine theory.
In music theory, he introduced wedge products as a way of classifying regular temperaments. In this system, a temperament is specified by means of a wedgie, which may technically be identified as a point on a Grassmannian. He had long drawn attention to the relationship between equal divisions of the octave and the Riemann zeta function.[1][2][3] He early on identified and emphasized free abelian groups of finite rank and their homomorphisms, and it was from that perspective that he contributed to the creation of the regular mapping paradigm.
In the 1970s, Gene experimented with musical compositions using a device with four square-wave voices, whose tuning was very stable and accurate, being controlled by a crystal oscillator. The device in turn was controlled by HP 9800 series desktop computers, initially the HP 9830A, programmed in HP Basic, later the 9845A. Using this, he explored both just intonation with a particular emphasis on groups of transformations, and pajara.
Gene had a basic understanding of the regular mapping paradigm during this period, but it was limited in practice since he was focused on the idea that the next step from meantone should keep some familiar features, and so was interested in tempering out 64/63 in place of 81/80. He knew 7-limit 12 and 22 had tempering out 64/63 and 50/49 in common, and 12 and 27 had tempering out 64/63 and 126/125 in common, and thought these would be logical places to progress to, blending novelty with familiarity. While he never got around to working with augene, he did consider it. For pajara, he found tempering certain JI scales, the 10 and 12 note highschool scales, led to interesting (omnitetrachordal) results, and that there were also closely related symmetric (MOS) scales of size 10 and 12 for pajara; he did some work with these, particularly favoring the pentachordal decatonic scale.
Gene was among the first to consider extending the Tonnetz of Hugo Riemann beyond the 5-limit and hence into higher dimensional lattices. In three dimensions, the hexagonal lattice of 5-limit harmony extends to a lattice of type A3 ~ D3. He is also the first to write music in a number of exotic intonation systems.
Historical interest
• Usenet post from 1990 by Gene Smith on homomorphisms and kernels
• Usenet post from 1995 by Gene Smith on homomorphisms and kernelsSee also
• Microtonal music by Gene Ward Smith
• Hypergenesis58 (a scale described by Gene Ward Smith)References
[1] Rusin, Dave. “Why 12 tones per octave?”
[2] OEIS. Increasingly large peaks of the Riemann zeta function on the critical line: OEIS: A117536.
[3] OEIS. Increasingly large integrals of the Z function between zeros: OEIS: A117538.
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Stuck in the Filter: November and December 2024’s Angry Misses
By Kenstrosity
Seeing as how it’s already almost February, you must be wondering why we’re still talking about shit from 2024. Not that I have to explain myself to you, but I didn’t give my minions grueling tasks just so that I could not take the glory for their labors. That wouldn’t embody this blog’s continual aspiration of being terrible capitalists! And so, we press on, searching and rescuing worthy—but not too worthy—pledges for the barbaric, Hunger Games-esque event that is Stuck in the Filter.
BEHOLD! Gaze upon these late-year candidates with the appropriate levels of awe, ye ov little consequence!
Kenstrosity’s Wintry Wonders
Caelestra // Bastion [December 13th, 2024 – Self Release]
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. For this sponge, I know something is beautiful when it ensnares me into otherworldly environments unlike those which mirrors terrestrial mundanity. UK post-metal one-man act Caelestra specializes in such ethereal worlds, with debut record Black Widow Nebula catching my attention under its blazing miasma of Countless Skies lushness, Astronoidal optimism, and Dreadnought-esque compositional vibrancy. Follow-up Bastion treads much the same path, but with an added emphasis on cathartic spells of intensity reminiscent of current Irreversible Mechanism (“Finisterre”), Kardashev (“Soteria”), or Devin Townsend (“The Hollow Altar”). Balancing these potentially disparate references, mastermind Frank Harper’s compositions flow with an uncanny smoothness without falling into a pit of homogeny. Bastion thereby represents a varied and textured affair built upon compelling guitar leads, unexpected riffs, multifaceted vocal techniques, and athletic percussive movements (“Finisterre,” “Lightbringer,” “The Hollow Altar”). Choosing the long form as Caelestra’s primary vehicle for this musical journey only deepens the experience, as each act offers a wide spectrum of moods, a rich tapestry of characters, and a lush layering of story to enrich any listener’s journey through Bastion (“Lightbringer,” “Eos”). Yet, the whole coheres tightly into a memorable and accessible forty-eight-minute span, easily replayable and effortlessly enjoyable. That, more than anything, makes Bastion a neat little triumph worth checking out.
Earthbound // Chronos [November 26th, 2024 – Self Release]
I have the honor of claiming this find all to my own—something that hasn’t occurred as often this past year as it has in those preceding. Bristol’s Earthbound offer a particular brand of melodic death metal that I want to love more often than I actually do, but they checked all my boxes here. Occupying a space somewhere between Amorphis, Countless Skies, and Dark Tranquillity, Earthbound’s style is simultaneously effervescent, introspective, and crushing on debut record Chronos. Boasting chunky riffs, soaring leads, classic melodeath rhythms, and buttery-smooth baritone vocals, Chronos throws blow after blow for forty-nine minutes of high-engagement material. Looking at standout tracks “A Conversation with God,” “The Architect,” “Cloudburst,” “Aperture,” and “Transmission,” Earthbound’s compelling songwriting tactics and knack for a killer hook recall underappreciated gems by modern contemporaries Rifftera and Svavelvinter. Some of their most accessible moments almost, but not quite, veer into pop-levels of accessibility, further accentuating Earthbound’s infectious energy (“Change,” “Flight,” “Transmission,” “Chasing the Wind”). This works marvelously in Earthbound’s favor, not only making Chronos a joy to listen to in its own right but also impressing me with how polished and professional the band is with only one full-length under the belt. Don’t let this one fall through the cracks!
Flaahgra // Plant Based Anatomy [November 15th, 2024 – Self Release]
WWWWOOOOOORRRRRRMMMHHHHHHOOO… wait, what? Oh, no, this is Flaahgra. But, the riffs sound like my beloved Wormhole! What’s going on? Oh, well this explains it. Sanil Kumar of Wormhole fame is responsible for Plant Based Anatomy’s guitar work. Rounded out by Tim “Toothhead” Lodge (bass), Chris Kulak (drums), and Anthony Michelli (vocals), this Baltimore quartet concoct a fast-paced, riff-burdened blunderbuss of gurgling vegan slam meatier than the fattest flank this side of Texas. It may be based around plants (and Metroid), but there are enough muscular grooves, neat lead work, and boisterous percussive rhythms here to keep even the most ravenous death fiend stuffed to the stamen (“Blood Flower,” “Toxic Green Fluid,” “Solar Recharge,” “Plant Based Anatomy”). Oversaturated with killer hooks, Plant Based Anatomy feels every bit as headbangable as this group’s pedigree indicates, but their application is delightfully straightforward, allowing Sanil’s standard-setting slams to shine brightest (“Plant Based Anatomy,” “Garden Cascade,” “Venom Weed Atrocity”). At a lean twenty-five minutes, Plant Based Anatomy rips through my system as efficiently as any grease-laden, overstuffed fast-food chimichanga, leaving just as vivid an impression in its wake. If there was ever a quick and easily digestible example of what differentiates really good slam from two-buck upchuck, Plant Based Anatomy is it. FFFLLAAAAHHHHGGGRRRAAAA!
Tyme’s Time Turners
Solar Wimp // Trails of Light [November 15th, 2024 – Self Release]
The richly dense knowledge and tastes of the commentariat here at AMG are a marvel. And despite the long hours of hard work the staff put in writing and keeping Redis at bay, not to mention the gut-wrenching task of pumping the n00b sump pit every Friday1 we continue to scour tons of promo to bring you the best and the rest of all things metal(ish). Invariably, some things trickle up from our most precious readers that deserve more attention than a few rando comments and respects. Such is the case with L.A.’s Solar Wimp. It was during my most recent stint in2 continued n00bdom that I scoped one of our commenters pimping the Wimp‘s who released, sadly to me now, their last album, Trails of Light, in November. As my ears absorbed the immediately quirky dissonance of the opener, “Entwined with Glass,” I was reminded of how blown away I was upon hearing Jute Gyte for the first time, this more due to my un-expectations than anything else. What followed was a journey I happily embarked on through fields of saxophonic freedom (“Strand and Tether”) and forests of long-form avant-garde brilliance (“Shimmer”). The black(ish) metal vocals and tech-jazz guitar histrionics of Jeremy Kerner, combined with Justin Brown’s bassinations and Mark Kimbrell’s drums, imbue so much passion into the music on Trails of Light, it has me guessing Solar Wimp may have very well saved their best for last. While I’m sure you’re ready to move on from 2024, I’d encourage you to dip back into last year’s well for a bit and give Solar Wimp’s Trails of Light a listen or five.
Thus Spoke’s Fallen Fragments
Yoth Iria // Blazing Inferno [November 8th, 2024 – Edged Circle Productions]
Yoth Iria’s sophomore Blazing Inferno arrived with little fanfare, which is a shame because they’re very good at what they do. Their brand of Hellenic black metal even charmed a 3.5 out of GardensTale with their 2021 debut As the Flame Withers. The new album very much picks up where its predecessor left off, in musical content as well as the fact that Yoth Iria clearly have a thing for giant demonic figures dwarfing human civilization. In a refreshingly to-the-point format, the group3 serve up some solid, groovy Satanic triumphalism that belies the relatively diminutive breadth of the songs that contain it. With thundering drums (“In the Tongue of Birds,” “We Call Upon the Elements”), spirited guitar leads (“But Fear Not,” “Mornings of the One Thousand Golds”), and a collection of classic growls, ominous whispers, and cleans, Yoth Iria craft engaging and very enjoyable compositions. Tracks manage to hold atmosphere and presence without detracting from the dopamine-producing tremolo twists and wails of drawn-out melody (title track, “Rites of Blood and Ice,” “Mornings…”) that draw it all together. This is black metal that makes you feel good about allying with the light-bringer. Not in any highbrow way, of course, just with great riffs, the right amount of tension and nuance, and convincingly massive compositions that steer away from the overwrought and cringe-inducing. It’s just plain good.
Botanist // VII: Beast of Arpocalyx [December 6th, 2024 – Self-Release]
Though recorded all the way back in 2016, the music of Beast of Arpocalyx has not seen the light until now. The seventh installment in the esoteric, botanical saga, VII: Beast of Arpocalyx focuses on plants with mythological animal associations. In comparison to last May’s Paleobotany, this is the solo work of founder Otrebor yet the heart of Botanist’s music has never been compromised. The distinctive tones of hammered dulcimer, make the black metal ring—literally and metaphorically—with playful mysticism when they engage in chirruping and cheerful refrains (“Wolfsbane,” “The Barnacle Tree”) and a weird eeriness when they stray into the dissonant (“The Vegetable Lamb of Tartary,” “Floral Onyx Chiroptera”). Nothing is substantially different here, but Botanist’s style is an enjoyably quirky one that I, at least, am always happy to indulge in. In many ways, this is not far removed from raw black metal, with the prominent chimes of (not always tuneful) melodicism wrapping snarls and rasps in an iridescent veil that makes the psychedelic turns from whimsical peace to urgent and barbed blastbeat aggression (“The Vegetable Lamb of Tartary,” “The Paw of Anigozanthos”) very compelling, pleasant even. Yeah, it’s kind of weird to hear chorals or synths under blackened rasps and clanging drums, while a dulcimer warbles along. But when the weirdness nonetheless succeeds in developing an atmosphere and inducing a desire to garner a similarly obsessive knowledge of flora, I can’t really complain.
Killjoy’s Atmospheric Attractions
Nishaiar // Enat Meret [December 5, 2024 – Self-Release]
2024 may technically be over, but there were a few releases in December that keep dragging my attention back to last year. First up is Nishaiar from Gondar, Ethiopia, whose sound resides at the unlikely intersection of traditional Ethiopian music, post-black metal, and Enya-style New Age. Coming off an arduous release schedule that yielded an EP and 5 full-lengths in only 4 years, Nishaiar took some extra time to recharge since Nahaxar in 2021. The results are readily apparent–Enat Meret features some of the punchiest material the band has written to date. “Yemelek” combines folk instruments, vibrant male chanting, and rending screams. An important element that elevates Enat Meret is the addition of a full-time female vocalist, whose moniker also happens to be Enat Meret. Her voice ranges from ethereal (“Idil”) to wistful (“Enat Midir”) to commanding (“Beheke”). There is some bloat—intro track “Semayawi” repeats itself for too long and “Awedal” through “Alem” leans too hard into atmosphere to be suitable for active listening. Even so, this is an album unlike any other you’re likely to hear anytime soon.
Atra Vetosus // Undying Splendour [December 20, 2024 – Immortal Frost Productions]
Next up is Atra Vetosus, who came to me by way of rec-master TomazP. Undying Splendour is a captivating work of atmospheric black metal that tempers the wanderlust of Skyforest with the melodic trem-picked fury of Mare Cognitum. It’s stuffed with triumphant, uplifting guitar melodies that contrast compellingly with mournful, anguished shouts and screams. Like a flowing stream, the graceful orchestrations smooth out any rough edges in their path, pairing exceptionally well with the rhythm section in the intro of “Forsaking Dreaded Paths.” The brawny bass lines throughout the album add satisfying oomph and the drumming is constantly engaging with lots of fleeting tempo shifts (“This Fallow Heart”) and expansive tom rolls (“Elysian Echoes”). Atra Vetosus have perfected the difficult art of long-form atmoblack—all the proper songs on Undying Splendour are between 7 and 11 minutes long and, crucially, feel purposeful without meandering. Though atmoblack is often maligned, I’ll happily get behind Atra Vetosus as one of the new standard bearers of the genre at its very best.
Skagos // Chariot Sun Blazing [December 21, 2024 – Self-Release]
They say that good things come to those who wait. Skagos makes an excellent case for this expression with Chariot Sun Blazing, an appropriate title given the tremendous glow-up that the atmospheric black metal group underwent since releasing Anarchic in 2013. While their woodsy black metal has always maintained similarities with the likes of Wolves in the Throne Room (who are also based in Olympia, Washington), this time around the music is infused with a real live string quartet and a two-horn section4. The effects of this additional instrumentation run way more than skin deep; Chariot Sun Blazing feels and flows like an actual symphony. For instance, the combination of the Wagner tuba with guitar plucking in the beginning of “Which in Turn Meet the Sea” evoke a misty morning which gradually warms up with guitar and string crescendos to thaw the leftover frost. The compositions are introspective and intimate, which is refreshing when compared with the usual grandiosity and bombast of symphonic music (metal or otherwise). While there’s nothing wrong with the raspy vocals, this is a rare instance when I would be completely okay if this were an instrumental album. This is an experience absolutely not to be missed.
Dolphin Whisperer’s Late-Blooming Bustles
Alarum // Recontinue [November 8th, 2024 – Self Release]
So many bands in the progressive and technical lanes forget to have fun. Not long, unheralded Australian prog/thrash/jazz fusion-heads Alarum, though. Truth be told, I had forgotten this band existed sometime before their 2011 release Natural Causes all up until about September of 2024 when I caught wind of this new release, Recontinue. Their oddball, heavily Cynic-inspired 2004 opus Eventuality… had stood the test of time in my archives plenty for its wild fusion antics woven into a riff-tricky, bass-poppin’ technical platform. And here, twenty years later, little has changed at Alarum’s foundation. A few things have shifted for the better, though, namely Alarum finding a more balanced resonance in production brightness and clarity, which helps highlight the flirtatious bass play of tracks like “The Visitor” and “Footprints” come to life. Additionally, this crisp and cutting mix allows the joyous neoclassical shredding escapades to carve a blazing path toward textures and alien warbles with a Holdsworth-ian charm (“Zero Nine Thirty,” “Awaken by Fire”). But, most importantly, Alarum continues to bring an ever-shuffling thrash energy similar to early Martyr works (“Imperative,” “Unheard Words,” “Into Existing”) while continuing to remember to toss in off-the-wall detours, like the funk-wah intro of “A Lifelong Question” or the bossa nova outro of “The Visitor.” Recontinue, as a late-career release from a continual dark horse from the land down under remains a consistent joy for the ears. If you’ve never heard Alarum to this point, and you’ve always wished that a jazzy, Cynic-inspired band would come around with a more metal attitude than the current trajectory of their inspirations, get Recontinue in your ears as soon as possible. And if, like me, you’ve fallen of the righteous path, know that time can correct all sorts of silly mistakes.
Gorging Shade // Inversions [November 11th, 2024 – Self Release]
With a sound that is as otherwordly and looming as it is terrestrial and bass-loaded, Gorging Shade has taken a vigorous and shaking progressive death metal form. The proficiency with which every performer weaves disparate melodic lines through echoing, ghastly samples and chaotic, witchy background chatter does not come entirely as a surprise, as the entire roster consists of the members of instrumental progressive act Canvas Solaris. Mood, atmosphere and a bellowing howl, though, separate this incarnation of Georgia’s finest. But the eerie space that Inversions inhabits too has manifested as a collective of talents on display with another offshoot from this act, the dark industrial Plague Pslams (composed of bassist Gael Pirlot and drummer Hunter Ginn, who also currently plays with Agalloch). As an experience layered between the history of sounds these tech wizards have created, Inversions lands dense and challenging. At its core, a rhythmic stomp propels each of its tracks alongside percussive riffs that echo the constant motion of Cynic, the blackened scrawl of Emperor, and the melancholy triumph of Ulcerate swells. But in a package uniquely Gorging Shade, a world emerges from each carefully constructed narrative. Sometimes energy rushes forth (“Disease of Feeling, Germed”). At others, noises creaking and crawling lay teasing grounds for careful exploration (“Ordeal of the Bitter Water,” “A Concession of Our City to Modernity”). Whatever the mode of attack, Gorging Shade delivers in a classic and meticulous wall of sound—perhaps a touch too volume-loaded on occasion—that hits first in waves of melodic intrigue, second in aftershocks of plotted and studied efforts. Its later in the year released may have kept Inversions’ treasures more hidden than I would have liked. The beauty of music, of course, is that we may sit with it as little or as long as we wish to parse its tireless arrangement.
#2024 #Agalloch #Alarum #AmericanMetal #Amorphis #Astronoid #AtmosphericBlackMetal #AtraVetosus #AustralianMetal #AvantGardeMetal #BlackMetal #BlazingInferno #Botanist #Caelestra #CanvasSolaris #ChariotSunBlazing #Chronos #CountlessSkies #Cynic #DarkTranquility #DeathMetal #Dec24 #DevinTownsend #Dreadnought #Earthbound #EdgedCircleProductions #Emperor #EnatMeret #Enya #EthiopianMetal #Flaahgra #GorgingShade #GreekMetal #Holdsworth #ImmortalFrostProductions #Inversions #IrreversibleMechanism #JuteGyte #Kardashev #MareCognitum #martyr #MelodicDeathMetal #Nishaiar #Nov24 #PlaguePsalms #PostBlackMetal #PostMetal #ProgressiveDeathMetal #ProgressiveMetal #Recontinue #Review #Reviews #Rifftera #RottingChrist #SelfRelease #Skagos #Skyforest #Slam #SolarWimp #StuckInTheFilter #Svavelvinter #TechDeath #TechnicalDeathMetal #TrailsOfLight #UKMetal #Ulcerate #UndyingSplendour #VIIBeastOfArpocalyx #WolvesInTheThroneRoom #Wormhole #YothIria
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Stuck in the Filter: November and December 2024’s Angry Misses
By Kenstrosity
Seeing as how it’s already almost February, you must be wondering why we’re still talking about shit from 2024. Not that I have to explain myself to you, but I didn’t give my minions grueling tasks just so that I could not take the glory for their labors. That wouldn’t embody this blog’s continual aspiration of being terrible capitalists! And so, we press on, searching and rescuing worthy—but not too worthy—pledges for the barbaric, Hunger Games-esque event that is Stuck in the Filter.
BEHOLD! Gaze upon these late-year candidates with the appropriate levels of awe, ye ov little consequence!
Kenstrosity’s Wintry Wonders
Caelestra // Bastion [December 13th, 2024 – Self Release]
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. For this sponge, I know something is beautiful when it ensnares me into otherworldly environments unlike those which mirrors terrestrial mundanity. UK post-metal one-man act Caelestra specializes in such ethereal worlds, with debut record Black Widow Nebula catching my attention under its blazing miasma of Countless Skies lushness, Astronoidal optimism, and Dreadnought-esque compositional vibrancy. Follow-up Bastion treads much the same path, but with an added emphasis on cathartic spells of intensity reminiscent of current Irreversible Mechanism (“Finisterre”), Kardashev (“Soteria”), or Devin Townsend (“The Hollow Altar”). Balancing these potentially disparate references, mastermind Frank Harper’s compositions flow with an uncanny smoothness without falling into a pit of homogeny. Bastion thereby represents a varied and textured affair built upon compelling guitar leads, unexpected riffs, multifaceted vocal techniques, and athletic percussive movements (“Finisterre,” “Lightbringer,” “The Hollow Altar”). Choosing the long form as Caelestra’s primary vehicle for this musical journey only deepens the experience, as each act offers a wide spectrum of moods, a rich tapestry of characters, and a lush layering of story to enrich any listener’s journey through Bastion (“Lightbringer,” “Eos”). Yet, the whole coheres tightly into a memorable and accessible forty-eight-minute span, easily replayable and effortlessly enjoyable. That, more than anything, makes Bastion a neat little triumph worth checking out.
Earthbound // Chronos [November 26th, 2024 – Self Release]
I have the honor of claiming this find all to my own—something that hasn’t occurred as often this past year as it has in those preceding. Bristol’s Earthbound offer a particular brand of melodic death metal that I want to love more often than I actually do, but they checked all my boxes here. Occupying a space somewhere between Amorphis, Countless Skies, and Dark Tranquillity, Earthbound’s style is simultaneously effervescent, introspective, and crushing on debut record Chronos. Boasting chunky riffs, soaring leads, classic melodeath rhythms, and buttery-smooth baritone vocals, Chronos throws blow after blow for forty-nine minutes of high-engagement material. Looking at standout tracks “A Conversation with God,” “The Architect,” “Cloudburst,” “Aperture,” and “Transmission,” Earthbound’s compelling songwriting tactics and knack for a killer hook recall underappreciated gems by modern contemporaries Rifftera and Svavelvinter. Some of their most accessible moments almost, but not quite, veer into pop-levels of accessibility, further accentuating Earthbound’s infectious energy (“Change,” “Flight,” “Transmission,” “Chasing the Wind”). This works marvelously in Earthbound’s favor, not only making Chronos a joy to listen to in its own right but also impressing me with how polished and professional the band is with only one full-length under the belt. Don’t let this one fall through the cracks!
Flaahgra // Plant Based Anatomy [November 15th, 2024 – Self Release]
WWWWOOOOOORRRRRRMMMHHHHHHOOO… wait, what? Oh, no, this is Flaahgra. But, the riffs sound like my beloved Wormhole! What’s going on? Oh, well this explains it. Sanil Kumar of Wormhole fame is responsible for Plant Based Anatomy’s guitar work. Rounded out by Tim “Toothhead” Lodge (bass), Chris Kulak (drums), and Anthony Michelli (vocals), this Baltimore quartet concoct a fast-paced, riff-burdened blunderbuss of gurgling vegan slam meatier than the fattest flank this side of Texas. It may be based around plants (and Metroid), but there are enough muscular grooves, neat lead work, and boisterous percussive rhythms here to keep even the most ravenous death fiend stuffed to the stamen (“Blood Flower,” “Toxic Green Fluid,” “Solar Recharge,” “Plant Based Anatomy”). Oversaturated with killer hooks, Plant Based Anatomy feels every bit as headbangable as this group’s pedigree indicates, but their application is delightfully straightforward, allowing Sanil’s standard-setting slams to shine brightest (“Plant Based Anatomy,” “Garden Cascade,” “Venom Weed Atrocity”). At a lean twenty-five minutes, Plant Based Anatomy rips through my system as efficiently as any grease-laden, overstuffed fast-food chimichanga, leaving just as vivid an impression in its wake. If there was ever a quick and easily digestible example of what differentiates really good slam from two-buck upchuck, Plant Based Anatomy is it. FFFLLAAAAHHHHGGGRRRAAAA!
Tyme’s Time Turners
Solar Wimp // Trails of Light [November 15th, 2024 – Self Release]
The richly dense knowledge and tastes of the commentariat here at AMG are a marvel. And despite the long hours of hard work the staff put in writing and keeping Redis at bay, not to mention the gut-wrenching task of pumping the n00b sump pit every Friday1 we continue to scour tons of promo to bring you the best and the rest of all things metal(ish). Invariably, some things trickle up from our most precious readers that deserve more attention than a few rando comments and respects. Such is the case with L.A.’s Solar Wimp. It was during my most recent stint in2 continued n00bdom that I scoped one of our commenters pimping the Wimp‘s who released, sadly to me now, their last album, Trails of Light, in November. As my ears absorbed the immediately quirky dissonance of the opener, “Entwined with Glass,” I was reminded of how blown away I was upon hearing Jute Gyte for the first time, this more due to my un-expectations than anything else. What followed was a journey I happily embarked on through fields of saxophonic freedom (“Strand and Tether”) and forests of long-form avant-garde brilliance (“Shimmer”). The black(ish) metal vocals and tech-jazz guitar histrionics of Jeremy Kerner, combined with Justin Brown’s bassinations and Mark Kimbrell’s drums, imbue so much passion into the music on Trails of Light, it has me guessing Solar Wimp may have very well saved their best for last. While I’m sure you’re ready to move on from 2024, I’d encourage you to dip back into last year’s well for a bit and give Solar Wimp’s Trails of Light a listen or five.
Thus Spoke’s Fallen Fragments
Yoth Iria // Blazing Inferno [November 8th, 2024 – Edged Circle Productions]
Yoth Iria’s sophomore Blazing Inferno arrived with little fanfare, which is a shame because they’re very good at what they do. Their brand of Hellenic black metal even charmed a 3.5 out of GardensTale with their 2021 debut As the Flame Withers. The new album very much picks up where its predecessor left off, in musical content as well as the fact that Yoth Iria clearly have a thing for giant demonic figures dwarfing human civilization. In a refreshingly to-the-point format, the group3 serve up some solid, groovy Satanic triumphalism that belies the relatively diminutive breadth of the songs that contain it. With thundering drums (“In the Tongue of Birds,” “We Call Upon the Elements”), spirited guitar leads (“But Fear Not,” “Mornings of the One Thousand Golds”), and a collection of classic growls, ominous whispers, and cleans, Yoth Iria craft engaging and very enjoyable compositions. Tracks manage to hold atmosphere and presence without detracting from the dopamine-producing tremolo twists and wails of drawn-out melody (title track, “Rites of Blood and Ice,” “Mornings…”) that draw it all together. This is black metal that makes you feel good about allying with the light-bringer. Not in any highbrow way, of course, just with great riffs, the right amount of tension and nuance, and convincingly massive compositions that steer away from the overwrought and cringe-inducing. It’s just plain good.
Botanist // VII: Beast of Arpocalyx [December 6th, 2024 – Self-Release]
Though recorded all the way back in 2016, the music of Beast of Arpocalyx has not seen the light until now. The seventh installment in the esoteric, botanical saga, VII: Beast of Arpocalyx focuses on plants with mythological animal associations. In comparison to last May’s Paleobotany, this is the solo work of founder Otrebor yet the heart of Botanist’s music has never been compromised. The distinctive tones of hammered dulcimer, make the black metal ring—literally and metaphorically—with playful mysticism when they engage in chirruping and cheerful refrains (“Wolfsbane,” “The Barnacle Tree”) and a weird eeriness when they stray into the dissonant (“The Vegetable Lamb of Tartary,” “Floral Onyx Chiroptera”). Nothing is substantially different here, but Botanist’s style is an enjoyably quirky one that I, at least, am always happy to indulge in. In many ways, this is not far removed from raw black metal, with the prominent chimes of (not always tuneful) melodicism wrapping snarls and rasps in an iridescent veil that makes the psychedelic turns from whimsical peace to urgent and barbed blastbeat aggression (“The Vegetable Lamb of Tartary,” “The Paw of Anigozanthos”) very compelling, pleasant even. Yeah, it’s kind of weird to hear chorals or synths under blackened rasps and clanging drums, while a dulcimer warbles along. But when the weirdness nonetheless succeeds in developing an atmosphere and inducing a desire to garner a similarly obsessive knowledge of flora, I can’t really complain.
Killjoy’s Atmospheric Attractions
Nishaiar // Enat Meret [December 5, 2024 – Self-Release]
2024 may technically be over, but there were a few releases in December that keep dragging my attention back to last year. First up is Nishaiar from Gondar, Ethiopia, whose sound resides at the unlikely intersection of traditional Ethiopian music, post-black metal, and Enya-style New Age. Coming off an arduous release schedule that yielded an EP and 5 full-lengths in only 4 years, Nishaiar took some extra time to recharge since Nahaxar in 2021. The results are readily apparent–Enat Meret features some of the punchiest material the band has written to date. “Yemelek” combines folk instruments, vibrant male chanting, and rending screams. An important element that elevates Enat Meret is the addition of a full-time female vocalist, whose moniker also happens to be Enat Meret. Her voice ranges from ethereal (“Idil”) to wistful (“Enat Midir”) to commanding (“Beheke”). There is some bloat—intro track “Semayawi” repeats itself for too long and “Awedal” through “Alem” leans too hard into atmosphere to be suitable for active listening. Even so, this is an album unlike any other you’re likely to hear anytime soon.
Atra Vetosus // Undying Splendour [December 20, 2024 – Immortal Frost Productions]
Next up is Atra Vetosus, who came to me by way of rec-master TomazP. Undying Splendour is a captivating work of atmospheric black metal that tempers the wanderlust of Skyforest with the melodic trem-picked fury of Mare Cognitum. It’s stuffed with triumphant, uplifting guitar melodies that contrast compellingly with mournful, anguished shouts and screams. Like a flowing stream, the graceful orchestrations smooth out any rough edges in their path, pairing exceptionally well with the rhythm section in the intro of “Forsaking Dreaded Paths.” The brawny bass lines throughout the album add satisfying oomph and the drumming is constantly engaging with lots of fleeting tempo shifts (“This Fallow Heart”) and expansive tom rolls (“Elysian Echoes”). Atra Vetosus have perfected the difficult art of long-form atmoblack—all the proper songs on Undying Splendour are between 7 and 11 minutes long and, crucially, feel purposeful without meandering. Though atmoblack is often maligned, I’ll happily get behind Atra Vetosus as one of the new standard bearers of the genre at its very best.
Skagos // Chariot Sun Blazing [December 21, 2024 – Self-Release]
They say that good things come to those who wait. Skagos makes an excellent case for this expression with Chariot Sun Blazing, an appropriate title given the tremendous glow-up that the atmospheric black metal group underwent since releasing Anarchic in 2013. While their woodsy black metal has always maintained similarities with the likes of Wolves in the Throne Room (who are also based in Olympia, Washington), this time around the music is infused with a real live string quartet and a two-horn section4. The effects of this additional instrumentation run way more than skin deep; Chariot Sun Blazing feels and flows like an actual symphony. For instance, the combination of the Wagner tuba with guitar plucking in the beginning of “Which in Turn Meet the Sea” evoke a misty morning which gradually warms up with guitar and string crescendos to thaw the leftover frost. The compositions are introspective and intimate, which is refreshing when compared with the usual grandiosity and bombast of symphonic music (metal or otherwise). While there’s nothing wrong with the raspy vocals, this is a rare instance when I would be completely okay if this were an instrumental album. This is an experience absolutely not to be missed.
Dolphin Whisperer’s Late-Blooming Bustles
Alarum // Recontinue [November 8th, 2024 – Self Release]
So many bands in the progressive and technical lanes forget to have fun. Not long, unheralded Australian prog/thrash/jazz fusion-heads Alarum, though. Truth be told, I had forgotten this band existed sometime before their 2011 release Natural Causes all up until about September of 2024 when I caught wind of this new release, Recontinue. Their oddball, heavily Cynic-inspired 2004 opus Eventuality… had stood the test of time in my archives plenty for its wild fusion antics woven into a riff-tricky, bass-poppin’ technical platform. And here, twenty years later, little has changed at Alarum’s foundation. A few things have shifted for the better, though, namely Alarum finding a more balanced resonance in production brightness and clarity, which helps highlight the flirtatious bass play of tracks like “The Visitor” and “Footprints” come to life. Additionally, this crisp and cutting mix allows the joyous neoclassical shredding escapades to carve a blazing path toward textures and alien warbles with a Holdsworth-ian charm (“Zero Nine Thirty,” “Awaken by Fire”). But, most importantly, Alarum continues to bring an ever-shuffling thrash energy similar to early Martyr works (“Imperative,” “Unheard Words,” “Into Existing”) while continuing to remember to toss in off-the-wall detours, like the funk-wah intro of “A Lifelong Question” or the bossa nova outro of “The Visitor.” Recontinue, as a late-career release from a continual dark horse from the land down under remains a consistent joy for the ears. If you’ve never heard Alarum to this point, and you’ve always wished that a jazzy, Cynic-inspired band would come around with a more metal attitude than the current trajectory of their inspirations, get Recontinue in your ears as soon as possible. And if, like me, you’ve fallen of the righteous path, know that time can correct all sorts of silly mistakes.
Gorging Shade // Inversions [November 11th, 2024 – Self Release]
With a sound that is as otherwordly and looming as it is terrestrial and bass-loaded, Gorging Shade has taken a vigorous and shaking progressive death metal form. The proficiency with which every performer weaves disparate melodic lines through echoing, ghastly samples and chaotic, witchy background chatter does not come entirely as a surprise, as the entire roster consists of the members of instrumental progressive act Canvas Solaris. Mood, atmosphere and a bellowing howl, though, separate this incarnation of Georgia’s finest. But the eerie space that Inversions inhabits too has manifested as a collective of talents on display with another offshoot from this act, the dark industrial Plague Pslams (composed of bassist Gael Pirlot and drummer Hunter Ginn, who also currently plays with Agalloch). As an experience layered between the history of sounds these tech wizards have created, Inversions lands dense and challenging. At its core, a rhythmic stomp propels each of its tracks alongside percussive riffs that echo the constant motion of Cynic, the blackened scrawl of Emperor, and the melancholy triumph of Ulcerate swells. But in a package uniquely Gorging Shade, a world emerges from each carefully constructed narrative. Sometimes energy rushes forth (“Disease of Feeling, Germed”). At others, noises creaking and crawling lay teasing grounds for careful exploration (“Ordeal of the Bitter Water,” “A Concession of Our City to Modernity”). Whatever the mode of attack, Gorging Shade delivers in a classic and meticulous wall of sound—perhaps a touch too volume-loaded on occasion—that hits first in waves of melodic intrigue, second in aftershocks of plotted and studied efforts. Its later in the year released may have kept Inversions’ treasures more hidden than I would have liked. The beauty of music, of course, is that we may sit with it as little or as long as we wish to parse its tireless arrangement.
#2024 #Agalloch #Alarum #AmericanMetal #Amorphis #Astronoid #AtmosphericBlackMetal #AtraVetosus #AustralianMetal #AvantGardeMetal #BlackMetal #BlazingInferno #Botanist #Caelestra #CanvasSolaris #ChariotSunBlazing #Chronos #CountlessSkies #Cynic #DarkTranquility #DeathMetal #Dec24 #DevinTownsend #Dreadnought #Earthbound #EdgedCircleProductions #Emperor #EnatMeret #Enya #EthiopianMetal #Flaahgra #GorgingShade #GreekMetal #Holdsworth #ImmortalFrostProductions #Inversions #IrreversibleMechanism #JuteGyte #Kardashev #MareCognitum #martyr #MelodicDeathMetal #Nishaiar #Nov24 #PlaguePsalms #PostBlackMetal #PostMetal #ProgressiveDeathMetal #ProgressiveMetal #Recontinue #Review #Reviews #Rifftera #RottingChrist #SelfRelease #Skagos #Skyforest #Slam #SolarWimp #StuckInTheFilter #Svavelvinter #TechDeath #TechnicalDeathMetal #TrailsOfLight #UKMetal #Ulcerate #UndyingSplendour #VIIBeastOfArpocalyx #WolvesInTheThroneRoom #Wormhole #YothIria
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Stuck in the Filter: November and December 2024’s Angry Misses
By Kenstrosity
Seeing as how it’s already almost February, you must be wondering why we’re still talking about shit from 2024. Not that I have to explain myself to you, but I didn’t give my minions grueling tasks just so that I could not take the glory for their labors. That wouldn’t embody this blog’s continual aspiration of being terrible capitalists! And so, we press on, searching and rescuing worthy—but not too worthy—pledges for the barbaric, Hunger Games-esque event that is Stuck in the Filter.
BEHOLD! Gaze upon these late-year candidates with the appropriate levels of awe, ye ov little consequence!
Kenstrosity’s Wintry Wonders
Caelestra // Bastion [December 13th, 2024 – Self Release]
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. For this sponge, I know something is beautiful when it ensnares me into otherworldly environments unlike those which mirrors terrestrial mundanity. UK post-metal one-man act Caelestra specializes in such ethereal worlds, with debut record Black Widow Nebula catching my attention under its blazing miasma of Countless Skies lushness, Astronoidal optimism, and Dreadnought-esque compositional vibrancy. Follow-up Bastion treads much the same path, but with an added emphasis on cathartic spells of intensity reminiscent of current Irreversible Mechanism (“Finisterre”), Kardashev (“Soteria”), or Devin Townsend (“The Hollow Altar”). Balancing these potentially disparate references, mastermind Frank Harper’s compositions flow with an uncanny smoothness without falling into a pit of homogeny. Bastion thereby represents a varied and textured affair built upon compelling guitar leads, unexpected riffs, multifaceted vocal techniques, and athletic percussive movements (“Finisterre,” “Lightbringer,” “The Hollow Altar”). Choosing the long form as Caelestra’s primary vehicle for this musical journey only deepens the experience, as each act offers a wide spectrum of moods, a rich tapestry of characters, and a lush layering of story to enrich any listener’s journey through Bastion (“Lightbringer,” “Eos”). Yet, the whole coheres tightly into a memorable and accessible forty-eight-minute span, easily replayable and effortlessly enjoyable. That, more than anything, makes Bastion a neat little triumph worth checking out.
Earthbound // Chronos [November 26th, 2024 – Self Release]
I have the honor of claiming this find all to my own—something that hasn’t occurred as often this past year as it has in those preceding. Bristol’s Earthbound offer a particular brand of melodic death metal that I want to love more often than I actually do, but they checked all my boxes here. Occupying a space somewhere between Amorphis, Countless Skies, and Dark Tranquillity, Earthbound’s style is simultaneously effervescent, introspective, and crushing on debut record Chronos. Boasting chunky riffs, soaring leads, classic melodeath rhythms, and buttery-smooth baritone vocals, Chronos throws blow after blow for forty-nine minutes of high-engagement material. Looking at standout tracks “A Conversation with God,” “The Architect,” “Cloudburst,” “Aperture,” and “Transmission,” Earthbound’s compelling songwriting tactics and knack for a killer hook recall underappreciated gems by modern contemporaries Rifftera and Svavelvinter. Some of their most accessible moments almost, but not quite, veer into pop-levels of accessibility, further accentuating Earthbound’s infectious energy (“Change,” “Flight,” “Transmission,” “Chasing the Wind”). This works marvelously in Earthbound’s favor, not only making Chronos a joy to listen to in its own right but also impressing me with how polished and professional the band is with only one full-length under the belt. Don’t let this one fall through the cracks!
Flaahgra // Plant Based Anatomy [November 15th, 2024 – Self Release]
WWWWOOOOOORRRRRRMMMHHHHHHOOO… wait, what? Oh, no, this is Flaahgra. But, the riffs sound like my beloved Wormhole! What’s going on? Oh, well this explains it. Sanil Kumar of Wormhole fame is responsible for Plant Based Anatomy’s guitar work. Rounded out by Tim “Toothhead” Lodge (bass), Chris Kulak (drums), and Anthony Michelli (vocals), this Baltimore quartet concoct a fast-paced, riff-burdened blunderbuss of gurgling vegan slam meatier than the fattest flank this side of Texas. It may be based around plants (and Metroid), but there are enough muscular grooves, neat lead work, and boisterous percussive rhythms here to keep even the most ravenous death fiend stuffed to the stamen (“Blood Flower,” “Toxic Green Fluid,” “Solar Recharge,” “Plant Based Anatomy”). Oversaturated with killer hooks, Plant Based Anatomy feels every bit as headbangable as this group’s pedigree indicates, but their application is delightfully straightforward, allowing Sanil’s standard-setting slams to shine brightest (“Plant Based Anatomy,” “Garden Cascade,” “Venom Weed Atrocity”). At a lean twenty-five minutes, Plant Based Anatomy rips through my system as efficiently as any grease-laden, overstuffed fast-food chimichanga, leaving just as vivid an impression in its wake. If there was ever a quick and easily digestible example of what differentiates really good slam from two-buck upchuck, Plant Based Anatomy is it. FFFLLAAAAHHHHGGGRRRAAAA!
Tyme’s Time Turners
Solar Wimp // Trails of Light [November 15th, 2024 – Self Release]
The richly dense knowledge and tastes of the commentariat here at AMG are a marvel. And despite the long hours of hard work the staff put in writing and keeping Redis at bay, not to mention the gut-wrenching task of pumping the n00b sump pit every Friday1 we continue to scour tons of promo to bring you the best and the rest of all things metal(ish). Invariably, some things trickle up from our most precious readers that deserve more attention than a few rando comments and respects. Such is the case with L.A.’s Solar Wimp. It was during my most recent stint in2 continued n00bdom that I scoped one of our commenters pimping the Wimp‘s who released, sadly to me now, their last album, Trails of Light, in November. As my ears absorbed the immediately quirky dissonance of the opener, “Entwined with Glass,” I was reminded of how blown away I was upon hearing Jute Gyte for the first time, this more due to my un-expectations than anything else. What followed was a journey I happily embarked on through fields of saxophonic freedom (“Strand and Tether”) and forests of long-form avant-garde brilliance (“Shimmer”). The black(ish) metal vocals and tech-jazz guitar histrionics of Jeremy Kerner, combined with Justin Brown’s bassinations and Mark Kimbrell’s drums, imbue so much passion into the music on Trails of Light, it has me guessing Solar Wimp may have very well saved their best for last. While I’m sure you’re ready to move on from 2024, I’d encourage you to dip back into last year’s well for a bit and give Solar Wimp’s Trails of Light a listen or five.
Thus Spoke’s Fallen Fragments
Yoth Iria // Blazing Inferno [November 8th, 2024 – Edged Circle Productions]
Yoth Iria’s sophomore Blazing Inferno arrived with little fanfare, which is a shame because they’re very good at what they do. Their brand of Hellenic black metal even charmed a 3.5 out of GardensTale with their 2021 debut As the Flame Withers. The new album very much picks up where its predecessor left off, in musical content as well as the fact that Yoth Iria clearly have a thing for giant demonic figures dwarfing human civilization. In a refreshingly to-the-point format, the group3 serve up some solid, groovy Satanic triumphalism that belies the relatively diminutive breadth of the songs that contain it. With thundering drums (“In the Tongue of Birds,” “We Call Upon the Elements”), spirited guitar leads (“But Fear Not,” “Mornings of the One Thousand Golds”), and a collection of classic growls, ominous whispers, and cleans, Yoth Iria craft engaging and very enjoyable compositions. Tracks manage to hold atmosphere and presence without detracting from the dopamine-producing tremolo twists and wails of drawn-out melody (title track, “Rites of Blood and Ice,” “Mornings…”) that draw it all together. This is black metal that makes you feel good about allying with the light-bringer. Not in any highbrow way, of course, just with great riffs, the right amount of tension and nuance, and convincingly massive compositions that steer away from the overwrought and cringe-inducing. It’s just plain good.
Botanist // VII: Beast of Arpocalyx [December 6th, 2024 – Self-Release]
Though recorded all the way back in 2016, the music of Beast of Arpocalyx has not seen the light until now. The seventh installment in the esoteric, botanical saga, VII: Beast of Arpocalyx focuses on plants with mythological animal associations. In comparison to last May’s Paleobotany, this is the solo work of founder Otrebor yet the heart of Botanist’s music has never been compromised. The distinctive tones of hammered dulcimer, make the black metal ring—literally and metaphorically—with playful mysticism when they engage in chirruping and cheerful refrains (“Wolfsbane,” “The Barnacle Tree”) and a weird eeriness when they stray into the dissonant (“The Vegetable Lamb of Tartary,” “Floral Onyx Chiroptera”). Nothing is substantially different here, but Botanist’s style is an enjoyably quirky one that I, at least, am always happy to indulge in. In many ways, this is not far removed from raw black metal, with the prominent chimes of (not always tuneful) melodicism wrapping snarls and rasps in an iridescent veil that makes the psychedelic turns from whimsical peace to urgent and barbed blastbeat aggression (“The Vegetable Lamb of Tartary,” “The Paw of Anigozanthos”) very compelling, pleasant even. Yeah, it’s kind of weird to hear chorals or synths under blackened rasps and clanging drums, while a dulcimer warbles along. But when the weirdness nonetheless succeeds in developing an atmosphere and inducing a desire to garner a similarly obsessive knowledge of flora, I can’t really complain.
Killjoy’s Atmospheric Attractions
Nishaiar // Enat Meret [December 5, 2024 – Self-Release]
2024 may technically be over, but there were a few releases in December that keep dragging my attention back to last year. First up is Nishaiar from Gondar, Ethiopia, whose sound resides at the unlikely intersection of traditional Ethiopian music, post-black metal, and Enya-style New Age. Coming off an arduous release schedule that yielded an EP and 5 full-lengths in only 4 years, Nishaiar took some extra time to recharge since Nahaxar in 2021. The results are readily apparent–Enat Meret features some of the punchiest material the band has written to date. “Yemelek” combines folk instruments, vibrant male chanting, and rending screams. An important element that elevates Enat Meret is the addition of a full-time female vocalist, whose moniker also happens to be Enat Meret. Her voice ranges from ethereal (“Idil”) to wistful (“Enat Midir”) to commanding (“Beheke”). There is some bloat—intro track “Semayawi” repeats itself for too long and “Awedal” through “Alem” leans too hard into atmosphere to be suitable for active listening. Even so, this is an album unlike any other you’re likely to hear anytime soon.
Atra Vetosus // Undying Splendour [December 20, 2024 – Immortal Frost Productions]
Next up is Atra Vetosus, who came to me by way of rec-master TomazP. Undying Splendour is a captivating work of atmospheric black metal that tempers the wanderlust of Skyforest with the melodic trem-picked fury of Mare Cognitum. It’s stuffed with triumphant, uplifting guitar melodies that contrast compellingly with mournful, anguished shouts and screams. Like a flowing stream, the graceful orchestrations smooth out any rough edges in their path, pairing exceptionally well with the rhythm section in the intro of “Forsaking Dreaded Paths.” The brawny bass lines throughout the album add satisfying oomph and the drumming is constantly engaging with lots of fleeting tempo shifts (“This Fallow Heart”) and expansive tom rolls (“Elysian Echoes”). Atra Vetosus have perfected the difficult art of long-form atmoblack—all the proper songs on Undying Splendour are between 7 and 11 minutes long and, crucially, feel purposeful without meandering. Though atmoblack is often maligned, I’ll happily get behind Atra Vetosus as one of the new standard bearers of the genre at its very best.
Skagos // Chariot Sun Blazing [December 21, 2024 – Self-Release]
They say that good things come to those who wait. Skagos makes an excellent case for this expression with Chariot Sun Blazing, an appropriate title given the tremendous glow-up that the atmospheric black metal group underwent since releasing Anarchic in 2013. While their woodsy black metal has always maintained similarities with the likes of Wolves in the Throne Room (who are also based in Olympia, Washington), this time around the music is infused with a real live string quartet and a two-horn section4. The effects of this additional instrumentation run way more than skin deep; Chariot Sun Blazing feels and flows like an actual symphony. For instance, the combination of the Wagner tuba with guitar plucking in the beginning of “Which in Turn Meet the Sea” evoke a misty morning which gradually warms up with guitar and string crescendos to thaw the leftover frost. The compositions are introspective and intimate, which is refreshing when compared with the usual grandiosity and bombast of symphonic music (metal or otherwise). While there’s nothing wrong with the raspy vocals, this is a rare instance when I would be completely okay if this were an instrumental album. This is an experience absolutely not to be missed.
Dolphin Whisperer’s Late-Blooming Bustles
Alarum // Recontinue [November 8th, 2024 – Self Release]
So many bands in the progressive and technical lanes forget to have fun. Not long, unheralded Australian prog/thrash/jazz fusion-heads Alarum, though. Truth be told, I had forgotten this band existed sometime before their 2011 release Natural Causes all up until about September of 2024 when I caught wind of this new release, Recontinue. Their oddball, heavily Cynic-inspired 2004 opus Eventuality… had stood the test of time in my archives plenty for its wild fusion antics woven into a riff-tricky, bass-poppin’ technical platform. And here, twenty years later, little has changed at Alarum’s foundation. A few things have shifted for the better, though, namely Alarum finding a more balanced resonance in production brightness and clarity, which helps highlight the flirtatious bass play of tracks like “The Visitor” and “Footprints” come to life. Additionally, this crisp and cutting mix allows the joyous neoclassical shredding escapades to carve a blazing path toward textures and alien warbles with a Holdsworth-ian charm (“Zero Nine Thirty,” “Awaken by Fire”). But, most importantly, Alarum continues to bring an ever-shuffling thrash energy similar to early Martyr works (“Imperative,” “Unheard Words,” “Into Existing”) while continuing to remember to toss in off-the-wall detours, like the funk-wah intro of “A Lifelong Question” or the bossa nova outro of “The Visitor.” Recontinue, as a late-career release from a continual dark horse from the land down under remains a consistent joy for the ears. If you’ve never heard Alarum to this point, and you’ve always wished that a jazzy, Cynic-inspired band would come around with a more metal attitude than the current trajectory of their inspirations, get Recontinue in your ears as soon as possible. And if, like me, you’ve fallen of the righteous path, know that time can correct all sorts of silly mistakes.
Gorging Shade // Inversions [November 11th, 2024 – Self Release]
With a sound that is as otherwordly and looming as it is terrestrial and bass-loaded, Gorging Shade has taken a vigorous and shaking progressive death metal form. The proficiency with which every performer weaves disparate melodic lines through echoing, ghastly samples and chaotic, witchy background chatter does not come entirely as a surprise, as the entire roster consists of the members of instrumental progressive act Canvas Solaris. Mood, atmosphere and a bellowing howl, though, separate this incarnation of Georgia’s finest. But the eerie space that Inversions inhabits too has manifested as a collective of talents on display with another offshoot from this act, the dark industrial Plague Pslams (composed of bassist Gael Pirlot and drummer Hunter Ginn, who also currently plays with Agalloch). As an experience layered between the history of sounds these tech wizards have created, Inversions lands dense and challenging. At its core, a rhythmic stomp propels each of its tracks alongside percussive riffs that echo the constant motion of Cynic, the blackened scrawl of Emperor, and the melancholy triumph of Ulcerate swells. But in a package uniquely Gorging Shade, a world emerges from each carefully constructed narrative. Sometimes energy rushes forth (“Disease of Feeling, Germed”). At others, noises creaking and crawling lay teasing grounds for careful exploration (“Ordeal of the Bitter Water,” “A Concession of Our City to Modernity”). Whatever the mode of attack, Gorging Shade delivers in a classic and meticulous wall of sound—perhaps a touch too volume-loaded on occasion—that hits first in waves of melodic intrigue, second in aftershocks of plotted and studied efforts. Its later in the year released may have kept Inversions’ treasures more hidden than I would have liked. The beauty of music, of course, is that we may sit with it as little or as long as we wish to parse its tireless arrangement.
#2024 #Agalloch #Alarum #AmericanMetal #Amorphis #Astronoid #AtmosphericBlackMetal #AtraVetosus #AustralianMetal #AvantGardeMetal #BlackMetal #BlazingInferno #Botanist #Caelestra #CanvasSolaris #ChariotSunBlazing #Chronos #CountlessSkies #Cynic #DarkTranquility #DeathMetal #Dec24 #DevinTownsend #Dreadnought #Earthbound #EdgedCircleProductions #Emperor #EnatMeret #Enya #EthiopianMetal #Flaahgra #GorgingShade #GreekMetal #Holdsworth #ImmortalFrostProductions #Inversions #IrreversibleMechanism #JuteGyte #Kardashev #MareCognitum #martyr #MelodicDeathMetal #Nishaiar #Nov24 #PlaguePsalms #PostBlackMetal #PostMetal #ProgressiveDeathMetal #ProgressiveMetal #Recontinue #Review #Reviews #Rifftera #RottingChrist #SelfRelease #Skagos #Skyforest #Slam #SolarWimp #StuckInTheFilter #Svavelvinter #TechDeath #TechnicalDeathMetal #TrailsOfLight #UKMetal #Ulcerate #UndyingSplendour #VIIBeastOfArpocalyx #WolvesInTheThroneRoom #Wormhole #YothIria
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The thread about the baffling naming of Leith railway stations; know your North Leith from your Leith North; which South Leith is which and whether Leith Walk West or Leith Walk East is westmost!
This thread was originally written and published in September 2019.
We went to visit Trinity House expecting to find some treasures of Leith maritime history, but we were surprised to find some local railway history hidden round the back too, a bench from South Leith Railway Station which closed way, way back in 1903.
South Leith station benchSo let’s go on a little #NowAndThen visual trip down memory lane to South Leith station. The view is taken from Constitution Street looking east along the trackbed, what is now Tower Street. The tall remnant of buildings behind were part of the first Leith gas works, before they moved to Granton with the Edinburgh gas works. The station building is on the right, with the single platform behind it.
Original source: Kenneth G. Williamson on FlickrThis was the first railway station in Leith, and was originally named as such when it opened in 1832 as an extension of the Edinburgh and Dalkeith Railway. This line ran from St. Leonards in Edinburgh to Midlothian, Leith being accessed by a reverse junction near Niddrie. This was the so-called “Innocent Railway“, in Scotch Gauge of 4ft 6in and horse drawn throughout. Looking the other way towards the Shore (and a prime example of that dreadful noughties architectural fad for oversized and inappropriate corner rotundas) we see Leith’s old Tower in the distance down Tower Street. Notice that the railway was not quite aligned with the modern Tower Street, but parallel. This continuation of the line beyond Constitution Street gave access to the east side of the port and its industries.
Original source: Kenneth G. Williamson on Flickr.The station was on the sea front when it was built, with Leith Sands beyond and the high tide line beyond that. The railway providing a new boundary between land and shore as Leith crept northwards into the Forth. This station was handy for the Shore, where the steamers left from at the time, but was quickly swallowed up by seaward extensions of the docks and became increasingly inconveniently positioned. In 1845 the North British Railway bought over the Edinburgh & Dalkeith and set about converting their new possession into standard gauge and steam power. However, they were not interested in passenger traffic here – it was routes South from Edinburgh that had caused them to buy the E&DR – and closed South Leith to passengers in 1846. The line remained open for dock traffic, always it’s primary purpose as it had been built as a direct connection to the Midlothian Coalfield.
OS 1849 Town Plan. Tower Street (blue), Constitution Street (yellow) and South Leith Station (orange)The naming of Leith’s railway stations was always a bit confusing. For a relatively small place, it had a lot of various stations and they were often duplicated due to the competing nature of the North British (NBR) and Caledonian Railways (CR), who fought petulantly with each other for access to the lucrative docks and industrial traffic. To add confusion, when most of these stations were first named, Leith was two distinct municipal parishes; South Leith and North Leith. These are ancient names, referring to the banks of the river of Water of Leith on which they lie, geographically they are more east and westerly of one and other than south and northerly. At various times there were stations called Leith, Leith Central, South Leith, North Leith, Leith North, Leith Citadel, Leith East, Leith Walk, Leith Walk West and Leith Walk East! (And that’s not counting those stations in the Leith boundaries which don’t have “Leith” in their name.)
An animated timeline of railways and railway stations in Leith, from 1830 – 1990. Dock, mineral and private sidings omitted for clarity. © SelfThe next station to open in Leith was North Leith in 1846. It was opened as a branch of the Edinburgh, Leith & Granton Railway, which ran from Canal Street Station (at right angles to the present day Waverley), through the Scotland Street Tunnel to Trinity and on to a rail ferry at Granton Docks. The NBR bought this railway too in 1862 and experimented with calling the station variously Leith Citadel or Leith North, before settling back on North Leith. They re-opened the old Edinburgh & Dalkeith Leith station in 1859 as a single platform called South Leith.
The next arrival was that of the Caledonian Railway, who opened a station called Leith in 1869 on a rather circuitous line around the North and West of the city from Princes Street Station via Roseburn and Newhaven. It would be renamed North Leith in 1903. To get around the confusion of two rival North Leith stations being a few hundred metres from each other on the same street, most maps stuck with Leith for the Caley station and North Leith for the NBR. To locals it would just have been the Caley and North British stations.
Railway Stations of Leith on the NBR (olive) and CR (blue) railways, later the LNER and LMS © SelfThe North Leith muddles would be solved in 1947 when the ex-NBR station, by now 24 years in the LNER grouping, was closed to passenger traffic. Rather pointlessly, 5 years later the ex-Caley North Leith was renamed Leith North, and the ex-NBR North Leith goods station once again became Leith Citadel!
The renaming of the Caley station was not the only change on the Leith railway map in 1903; this was the year the North British opened their (far too) vast station at Leith Central – which of course was well to the south of South Leith… It’s arrival resulted in the closure of the latter station for the second and final time. Leith Central was on a fairly short branch from Waverley via Abbeyhill, but could never match the electric tramway on speed, frequency, convenience and on proximity to destinations, so it always struggled for patronage. Leith Central was the last major railway terminus built in Scotland, and had a short life, closing in 1952 after a fairly unintense life. It had been built more as a symbol of the NBR‘s dominance and a blocker to the Caley opening a passenger station in the centre of Leith than anything else.
Leith Central Station at the bottom. NBR (olive) and CR (blue) railways, later the LNER and LMS © SelfThose grand Caley plans were the Leith New Lines, a very expensive and winding route around Leith to connect the eastern and western sides of the Docks. Large goods stations were opened at Bonnington, Leith Walk, Restalrig and South Leith; where it caused confusion with the NBR South Leith goods station. The Caley had wanted to provide passenger stations too; the platforms and some other structures for these were actually built, at Victoria Park in Trinity and above street level on Leith Walk on the Gordon Street railway arches. After Leith Walk, the intention was a costly branch to Princes Street station from a junction near Lochend via tunnels under Calton Hill and cut-and-cover tunnelling of Princes Street itself. None of these plans came to fruition though, the NBR‘s massive Leith Central meant it would have been a costly folly (which Leith Central admittedly also was).
The Leith New Lines. NBR (olive) and CR (blue) railways, later the LNER and LMS © SelfThe two parallel, neighbouring South Leith Goods stations of the NBR and Caley happily co-existed side-by-side into the 1950s, when British Railway in their wisdom renamed the ex-NBR station Leith South and ex-CR station Leith East. The latter closed in the 1970s, the former lasted into the 1990s, its yard (South Leith Yard) is still technically in use, but has not seen any traffic in the best part of 10 years.
The last set of Leith-named stations were those of Leith Walk – none of which are actually in Leith by any definition later than the 18th century! Leith Walk passenger station was opened by the NBR in 1869 when they built a diversionary line from Waverley station to Trinity via Abbeyhill to avoid the awkward Scotland Street tunnel. Passenger stations were added along the line, including where it passed under Leith Walk at Shrubhill. An enormous goods yard was provided on the east side of the Walk. When the Caley opened their Leith New Lines in 1903, they also provided a goods yard for Leith Walk, further to the north. Both were called Leith Walk (goods) so inevitably were referred to as the North British or Caley to differentiate them.
The Leith Walk. NBR (olive) and CR (blue) railways, later the LNER and LMS © SelfThe passenger station closed in 1930, another victim of competition from the electric tramway. After nationalisation, the ever wise British Railways decided to rationalise matters and renamed the ex-NBR station Leith Walk East and the ex-Caley station Leith Walk West. This makes perfect sense in principle to a naming committee in a far off office, except it results in Leith Walk East being more westerly than Leith Walk West on account of Leith Walk not running on a true north-south axis! Nothing is ever straightforward when it comes to the names of Leith’s railway stations!
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These threads © 2017-2025, Andy Arthur
#NowAndThen #CaledonianRailway #Caley #EdinburghDalkeithRailway #NorthBritishRailway #RailwayStations #Railways #transport #Transportation #Written2019
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The thread about the baffling naming of Leith railway stations; know your North Leith from your Leith North; which South Leith is which and whether Leith Walk West or Leith Walk East is westmost!
This thread was originally written and published in September 2019.
We went to visit Trinity House expecting to find some treasures of Leith maritime history, but we were surprised to find some local railway history hidden round the back too, a bench from South Leith Railway Station which closed way, way back in 1903.
South Leith station benchSo let’s go on a little #NowAndThen visual trip down memory lane to South Leith station. The view is taken from Constitution Street looking east along the trackbed, what is now Tower Street. The tall remnant of buildings behind were part of the first Leith gas works, before they moved to Granton with the Edinburgh gas works. The station building is on the right, with the single platform behind it.
Original source: Kenneth G. Williamson on FlickrThis was the first railway station in Leith, and was originally named as such when it opened in 1832 as an extension of the Edinburgh and Dalkeith Railway. This line ran from St. Leonards in Edinburgh to Midlothian, Leith being accessed by a reverse junction near Niddrie. This was the so-called “Innocent Railway“, in Scotch Gauge of 4ft 6in and horse drawn throughout. Looking the other way towards the Shore (and a prime example of that dreadful noughties architectural fad for oversized and inappropriate corner rotundas) we see Leith’s old Tower in the distance down Tower Street. Notice that the railway was not quite aligned with the modern Tower Street, but parallel. This continuation of the line beyond Constitution Street gave access to the east side of the port and its industries.
Original source: Kenneth G. Williamson on Flickr.The station was on the sea front when it was built, with Leith Sands beyond and the high tide line beyond that. The railway providing a new boundary between land and shore as Leith crept northwards into the Forth. This station was handy for the Shore, where the steamers left from at the time, but was quickly swallowed up by seaward extensions of the docks and became increasingly inconveniently positioned. In 1845 the North British Railway bought over the Edinburgh & Dalkeith and set about converting their new possession into standard gauge and steam power. However, they were not interested in passenger traffic here – it was routes South from Edinburgh that had caused them to buy the E&DR – and closed South Leith to passengers in 1846. The line remained open for dock traffic, always it’s primary purpose as it had been built as a direct connection to the Midlothian Coalfield.
OS 1849 Town Plan. Tower Street (blue), Constitution Street (yellow) and South Leith Station (orange)The naming of Leith’s railway stations was always a bit confusing. For a relatively small place, it had a lot of various stations and they were often duplicated due to the competing nature of the North British (NBR) and Caledonian Railways (CR), who fought petulantly with each other for access to the lucrative docks and industrial traffic. To add confusion, when most of these stations were first named, Leith was two distinct municipal parishes; South Leith and North Leith. These are ancient names, referring to the banks of the river of Water of Leith on which they lie, geographically they are more east and westerly of one and other than south and northerly. At various times there were stations called Leith, Leith Central, South Leith, North Leith, Leith North, Leith Citadel, Leith East, Leith Walk, Leith Walk West and Leith Walk East! (And that’s not counting those stations in the Leith boundaries which don’t have “Leith” in their name.)
An animated timeline of railways and railway stations in Leith, from 1830 – 1990. Dock, mineral and private sidings omitted for clarity. © SelfThe next station to open in Leith was North Leith in 1846. It was opened as a branch of the Edinburgh, Leith & Granton Railway, which ran from Canal Street Station (at right angles to the present day Waverley), through the Scotland Street Tunnel to Trinity and on to a rail ferry at Granton Docks. The NBR bought this railway too in 1862 and experimented with calling the station variously Leith Citadel or Leith North, before settling back on North Leith. They re-opened the old Edinburgh & Dalkeith Leith station in 1859 as a single platform called South Leith.
The next arrival was that of the Caledonian Railway, who opened a station called Leith in 1869 on a rather circuitous line around the North and West of the city from Princes Street Station via Roseburn and Newhaven. It would be renamed North Leith in 1903. To get around the confusion of two rival North Leith stations being a few hundred metres from each other on the same street, most maps stuck with Leith for the Caley station and North Leith for the NBR. To locals it would just have been the Caley and North British stations.
Railway Stations of Leith on the NBR (olive) and CR (blue) railways, later the LNER and LMS © SelfThe North Leith muddles would be solved in 1947 when the ex-NBR station, by now 24 years in the LNER grouping, was closed to passenger traffic. Rather pointlessly, 5 years later the ex-Caley North Leith was renamed Leith North, and the ex-NBR North Leith goods station once again became Leith Citadel!
The renaming of the Caley station was not the only change on the Leith railway map in 1903; this was the year the North British opened their (far too) vast station at Leith Central – which of course was well to the south of South Leith… It’s arrival resulted in the closure of the latter station for the second and final time. Leith Central was on a fairly short branch from Waverley via Abbeyhill, but could never match the electric tramway on speed, frequency, convenience and on proximity to destinations, so it always struggled for patronage. Leith Central was the last major railway terminus built in Scotland, and had a short life, closing in 1952 after a fairly unintense life. It had been built more as a symbol of the NBR‘s dominance and a blocker to the Caley opening a passenger station in the centre of Leith than anything else.
Leith Central Station at the bottom. NBR (olive) and CR (blue) railways, later the LNER and LMS © SelfThose grand Caley plans were the Leith New Lines, a very expensive and winding route around Leith to connect the eastern and western sides of the Docks. Large goods stations were opened at Bonnington, Leith Walk, Restalrig and South Leith; where it caused confusion with the NBR South Leith goods station. The Caley had wanted to provide passenger stations too; the platforms and some other structures for these were actually built, at Victoria Park in Trinity and above street level on Leith Walk on the Gordon Street railway arches. After Leith Walk, the intention was a costly branch to Princes Street station from a junction near Lochend via tunnels under Calton Hill and cut-and-cover tunnelling of Princes Street itself. None of these plans came to fruition though, the NBR‘s massive Leith Central meant it would have been a costly folly (which Leith Central admittedly also was).
The Leith New Lines. NBR (olive) and CR (blue) railways, later the LNER and LMS © SelfThe two parallel, neighbouring South Leith Goods stations of the NBR and Caley happily co-existed side-by-side into the 1950s, when British Railway in their wisdom renamed the ex-NBR station Leith South and ex-CR station Leith East. The latter closed in the 1970s, the former lasted into the 1990s, its yard (South Leith Yard) is still technically in use, but has not seen any traffic in the best part of 10 years.
The last set of Leith-named stations were those of Leith Walk – none of which are actually in Leith by any definition later than the 18th century! Leith Walk passenger station was opened by the NBR in 1869 when they built a diversionary line from Waverley station to Trinity via Abbeyhill to avoid the awkward Scotland Street tunnel. Passenger stations were added along the line, including where it passed under Leith Walk at Shrubhill. An enormous goods yard was provided on the east side of the Walk. When the Caley opened their Leith New Lines in 1903, they also provided a goods yard for Leith Walk, further to the north. Both were called Leith Walk (goods) so inevitably were referred to as the North British or Caley to differentiate them.
The Leith Walk. NBR (olive) and CR (blue) railways, later the LNER and LMS © SelfThe passenger station closed in 1930, another victim of competition from the electric tramway. After nationalisation, the ever wise British Railways decided to rationalise matters and renamed the ex-NBR station Leith Walk East and the ex-Caley station Leith Walk West. This makes perfect sense in principle to a naming committee in a far off office, except it results in Leith Walk East being more westerly than Leith Walk West on account of Leith Walk not running on a true north-south axis! Nothing is ever straightforward when it comes to the names of Leith’s railway stations!
If you have found this useful, informative or amusing, perhaps you would like to help contribute towards the running costs of this site (including keeping it ad-free and my book-buying budget) by supporting me on ko-fi. Or please do just share this post on social media or amongst friends.
These threads © 2017-2025, Andy Arthur
#NowAndThen #CaledonianRailway #Caley #EdinburghDalkeithRailway #NorthBritishRailway #RailwayStations #Railways #transport #Transportation #Written2019
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The thread about the baffling naming of Leith railway stations; know your North Leith from your Leith North; which South Leith is which and whether Leith Walk West or Leith Walk East is westmost!
This thread was originally written and published in September 2019.
We went to visit Trinity House expecting to find some treasures of Leith maritime history, but we were surprised to find some local railway history hidden round the back too, a bench from South Leith Railway Station which closed way, way back in 1903.
South Leith station benchSo let’s go on a little #NowAndThen visual trip down memory lane to South Leith station. The view is taken from Constitution Street looking east along the trackbed, what is now Tower Street. The tall remnant of buildings behind were part of the first Leith gas works, before they moved to Granton with the Edinburgh gas works. The station building is on the right, with the single platform behind it.
Original source: Kenneth G. Williamson on FlickrThis was the first railway station in Leith, and was originally named as such when it opened in 1832 as an extension of the Edinburgh and Dalkeith Railway. This line ran from St. Leonards in Edinburgh to Midlothian, Leith being accessed by a reverse junction near Niddrie. This was the so-called “Innocent Railway“, in Scotch Gauge of 4ft 6in and horse drawn throughout. Looking the other way towards the Shore (and a prime example of that dreadful noughties architectural fad for oversized and inappropriate corner rotundas) we see Leith’s old Tower in the distance down Tower Street. Notice that the railway was not quite aligned with the modern Tower Street, but parallel. This continuation of the line beyond Constitution Street gave access to the east side of the port and its industries.
Original source: Kenneth G. Williamson on Flickr.The station was on the sea front when it was built, with Leith Sands beyond and the high tide line beyond that. The railway providing a new boundary between land and shore as Leith crept northwards into the Forth. This station was handy for the Shore, where the steamers left from at the time, but was quickly swallowed up by seaward extensions of the docks and became increasingly inconveniently positioned. In 1845 the North British Railway bought over the Edinburgh & Dalkeith and set about converting their new possession into standard gauge and steam power. However, they were not interested in passenger traffic here – it was routes South from Edinburgh that had caused them to buy the E&DR – and closed South Leith to passengers in 1846. The line remained open for dock traffic, always it’s primary purpose as it had been built as a direct connection to the Midlothian Coalfield.
OS 1849 Town Plan. Tower Street (blue), Constitution Street (yellow) and South Leith Station (orange)The naming of Leith’s railway stations was always a bit confusing. For a relatively small place, it had a lot of various stations and they were often duplicated due to the competing nature of the North British (NBR) and Caledonian Railways (CR), who fought petulantly with each other for access to the lucrative docks and industrial traffic. To add confusion, when most of these stations were first named, Leith was two distinct municipal parishes; South Leith and North Leith. These are ancient names, referring to the banks of the river of Water of Leith on which they lie, geographically they are more east and westerly of one and other than south and northerly. At various times there were stations called Leith, Leith Central, South Leith, North Leith, Leith North, Leith Citadel, Leith East, Leith Walk, Leith Walk West and Leith Walk East! (And that’s not counting those stations in the Leith boundaries which don’t have “Leith” in their name.)
An animated timeline of railways and railway stations in Leith, from 1830 – 1990. Dock, mineral and private sidings omitted for clarity. © SelfThe next station to open in Leith was North Leith in 1846. It was opened as a branch of the Edinburgh, Leith & Granton Railway, which ran from Canal Street Station (at right angles to the present day Waverley), through the Scotland Street Tunnel to Trinity and on to a rail ferry at Granton Docks. The NBR bought this railway too in 1862 and experimented with calling the station variously Leith Citadel or Leith North, before settling back on North Leith. They re-opened the old Edinburgh & Dalkeith Leith station in 1859 as a single platform called South Leith.
The next arrival was that of the Caledonian Railway, who opened a station called Leith in 1869 on a rather circuitous line around the North and West of the city from Princes Street Station via Roseburn and Newhaven. It would be renamed North Leith in 1903. To get around the confusion of two rival North Leith stations being a few hundred metres from each other on the same street, most maps stuck with Leith for the Caley station and North Leith for the NBR. To locals it would just have been the Caley and North British stations.
Railway Stations of Leith on the NBR (olive) and CR (blue) railways, later the LNER and LMS © SelfThe North Leith muddles would be solved in 1947 when the ex-NBR station, by now 24 years in the LNER grouping, was closed to passenger traffic. Rather pointlessly, 5 years later the ex-Caley North Leith was renamed Leith North, and the ex-NBR North Leith goods station once again became Leith Citadel!
The renaming of the Caley station was not the only change on the Leith railway map in 1903; this was the year the North British opened their (far too) vast station at Leith Central – which of course was well to the south of South Leith… It’s arrival resulted in the closure of the latter station for the second and final time. Leith Central was on a fairly short branch from Waverley via Abbeyhill, but could never match the electric tramway on speed, frequency, convenience and on proximity to destinations, so it always struggled for patronage. Leith Central was the last major railway terminus built in Scotland, and had a short life, closing in 1952 after a fairly unintense life. It had been built more as a symbol of the NBR‘s dominance and a blocker to the Caley opening a passenger station in the centre of Leith than anything else.
Leith Central Station at the bottom. NBR (olive) and CR (blue) railways, later the LNER and LMS © SelfThose grand Caley plans were the Leith New Lines, a very expensive and winding route around Leith to connect the eastern and western sides of the Docks. Large goods stations were opened at Bonnington, Leith Walk, Restalrig and South Leith; where it caused confusion with the NBR South Leith goods station. The Caley had wanted to provide passenger stations too; the platforms and some other structures for these were actually built, at Victoria Park in Trinity and above street level on Leith Walk on the Gordon Street railway arches. After Leith Walk, the intention was a costly branch to Princes Street station from a junction near Lochend via tunnels under Calton Hill and cut-and-cover tunnelling of Princes Street itself. None of these plans came to fruition though, the NBR‘s massive Leith Central meant it would have been a costly folly (which Leith Central admittedly also was).
The Leith New Lines. NBR (olive) and CR (blue) railways, later the LNER and LMS © SelfThe two parallel, neighbouring South Leith Goods stations of the NBR and Caley happily co-existed side-by-side into the 1950s, when British Railway in their wisdom renamed the ex-NBR station Leith South and ex-CR station Leith East. The latter closed in the 1970s, the former lasted into the 1990s, its yard (South Leith Yard) is still technically in use, but has not seen any traffic in the best part of 10 years.
The last set of Leith-named stations were those of Leith Walk – none of which are actually in Leith by any definition later than the 18th century! Leith Walk passenger station was opened by the NBR in 1869 when they built a diversionary line from Waverley station to Trinity via Abbeyhill to avoid the awkward Scotland Street tunnel. Passenger stations were added along the line, including where it passed under Leith Walk at Shrubhill. An enormous goods yard was provided on the east side of the Walk. When the Caley opened their Leith New Lines in 1903, they also provided a goods yard for Leith Walk, further to the north. Both were called Leith Walk (goods) so inevitably were referred to as the North British or Caley to differentiate them.
The Leith Walk. NBR (olive) and CR (blue) railways, later the LNER and LMS © SelfThe passenger station closed in 1930, another victim of competition from the electric tramway. After nationalisation, the ever wise British Railways decided to rationalise matters and renamed the ex-NBR station Leith Walk East and the ex-Caley station Leith Walk West. This makes perfect sense in principle to a naming committee in a far off office, except it results in Leith Walk East being more westerly than Leith Walk West on account of Leith Walk not running on a true north-south axis! Nothing is ever straightforward when it comes to the names of Leith’s railway stations!
If you have found this useful, informative or amusing, perhaps you would like to help contribute towards the running costs of this site (including keeping it ad-free and my book-buying budget) by supporting me on ko-fi. Or please do just share this post on social media or amongst friends.
These threads © 2017-2025, Andy Arthur
#NowAndThen #CaledonianRailway #Caley #EdinburghDalkeithRailway #NorthBritishRailway #RailwayStations #Railways #transport #Transportation #Written2019
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The thread about the baffling naming of Leith railway stations; know your North Leith from your Leith North; which South Leith is which and whether Leith Walk West or Leith Walk East is westmost!
This thread was originally written and published in September 2019.
We went to visit Trinity House expecting to find some treasures of Leith maritime history, but we were surprised to find some local railway history hidden round the back too, a bench from South Leith Railway Station which closed way, way back in 1903.
South Leith station benchSo let’s go on a little #NowAndThen visual trip down memory lane to South Leith station. The view is taken from Constitution Street looking east along the trackbed, what is now Tower Street. The tall remnant of buildings behind were part of the first Leith gas works, before they moved to Granton with the Edinburgh gas works. The station building is on the right, with the single platform behind it.
Original source: Kenneth G. Williamson on FlickrThis was the first railway station in Leith, and was originally named as such when it opened in 1832 as an extension of the Edinburgh and Dalkeith Railway. This line ran from St. Leonards in Edinburgh to Midlothian, Leith being accessed by a reverse junction near Niddrie. This was the so-called “Innocent Railway“, in Scotch Gauge of 4ft 6in and horse drawn throughout. Looking the other way towards the Shore (and a prime example of that dreadful noughties architectural fad for oversized and inappropriate corner rotundas) we see Leith’s old Tower in the distance down Tower Street. Notice that the railway was not quite aligned with the modern Tower Street, but parallel. This continuation of the line beyond Constitution Street gave access to the east side of the port and its industries.
Original source: Kenneth G. Williamson on Flickr.The station was on the sea front when it was built, with Leith Sands beyond and the high tide line beyond that. The railway providing a new boundary between land and shore as Leith crept northwards into the Forth. This station was handy for the Shore, where the steamers left from at the time, but was quickly swallowed up by seaward extensions of the docks and became increasingly inconveniently positioned. In 1845 the North British Railway bought over the Edinburgh & Dalkeith and set about converting their new possession into standard gauge and steam power. However, they were not interested in passenger traffic here – it was routes South from Edinburgh that had caused them to buy the E&DR – and closed South Leith to passengers in 1846. The line remained open for dock traffic, always it’s primary purpose as it had been built as a direct connection to the Midlothian Coalfield.
OS 1849 Town Plan. Tower Street (blue), Constitution Street (yellow) and South Leith Station (orange)The naming of Leith’s railway stations was always a bit confusing. For a relatively small place, it had a lot of various stations and they were often duplicated due to the competing nature of the North British (NBR) and Caledonian Railways (CR), who fought petulantly with each other for access to the lucrative docks and industrial traffic. To add confusion, when most of these stations were first named, Leith was two distinct municipal parishes; South Leith and North Leith. These are ancient names, referring to the banks of the river of Water of Leith on which they lie, geographically they are more east and westerly of one and other than south and northerly. At various times there were stations called Leith, Leith Central, South Leith, North Leith, Leith North, Leith Citadel, Leith East, Leith Walk, Leith Walk West and Leith Walk East! (And that’s not counting those stations in the Leith boundaries which don’t have “Leith” in their name.)
An animated timeline of railways and railway stations in Leith, from 1830 – 1990. Dock, mineral and private sidings omitted for clarity. © SelfThe next station to open in Leith was North Leith in 1846. It was opened as a branch of the Edinburgh, Leith & Granton Railway, which ran from Canal Street Station (at right angles to the present day Waverley), through the Scotland Street Tunnel to Trinity and on to a rail ferry at Granton Docks. The NBR bought this railway too in 1862 and experimented with calling the station variously Leith Citadel or Leith North, before settling back on North Leith. They re-opened the old Edinburgh & Dalkeith Leith station in 1859 as a single platform called South Leith.
The next arrival was that of the Caledonian Railway, who opened a station called Leith in 1869 on a rather circuitous line around the North and West of the city from Princes Street Station via Roseburn and Newhaven. It would be renamed North Leith in 1903. To get around the confusion of two rival North Leith stations being a few hundred metres from each other on the same street, most maps stuck with Leith for the Caley station and North Leith for the NBR. To locals it would just have been the Caley and North British stations.
Railway Stations of Leith on the NBR (olive) and CR (blue) railways, later the LNER and LMS © SelfThe North Leith muddles would be solved in 1947 when the ex-NBR station, by now 24 years in the LNER grouping, was closed to passenger traffic. Rather pointlessly, 5 years later the ex-Caley North Leith was renamed Leith North, and the ex-NBR North Leith goods station once again became Leith Citadel!
The renaming of the Caley station was not the only change on the Leith railway map in 1903; this was the year the North British opened their (far too) vast station at Leith Central – which of course was well to the south of South Leith… It’s arrival resulted in the closure of the latter station for the second and final time. Leith Central was on a fairly short branch from Waverley via Abbeyhill, but could never match the electric tramway on speed, frequency, convenience and on proximity to destinations, so it always struggled for patronage. Leith Central was the last major railway terminus built in Scotland, and had a short life, closing in 1952 after a fairly unintense life. It had been built more as a symbol of the NBR‘s dominance and a blocker to the Caley opening a passenger station in the centre of Leith than anything else.
Leith Central Station at the bottom. NBR (olive) and CR (blue) railways, later the LNER and LMS © SelfThose grand Caley plans were the Leith New Lines, a very expensive and winding route around Leith to connect the eastern and western sides of the Docks. Large goods stations were opened at Bonnington, Leith Walk, Restalrig and South Leith; where it caused confusion with the NBR South Leith goods station. The Caley had wanted to provide passenger stations too; the platforms and some other structures for these were actually built, at Victoria Park in Trinity and above street level on Leith Walk on the Gordon Street railway arches. After Leith Walk, the intention was a costly branch to Princes Street station from a junction near Lochend via tunnels under Calton Hill and cut-and-cover tunnelling of Princes Street itself. None of these plans came to fruition though, the NBR‘s massive Leith Central meant it would have been a costly folly (which Leith Central admittedly also was).
The Leith New Lines. NBR (olive) and CR (blue) railways, later the LNER and LMS © SelfThe two parallel, neighbouring South Leith Goods stations of the NBR and Caley happily co-existed side-by-side into the 1950s, when British Railway in their wisdom renamed the ex-NBR station Leith South and ex-CR station Leith East. The latter closed in the 1970s, the former lasted into the 1990s, its yard (South Leith Yard) is still technically in use, but has not seen any traffic in the best part of 10 years.
The last set of Leith-named stations were those of Leith Walk – none of which are actually in Leith by any definition later than the 18th century! Leith Walk passenger station was opened by the NBR in 1869 when they built a diversionary line from Waverley station to Trinity via Abbeyhill to avoid the awkward Scotland Street tunnel. Passenger stations were added along the line, including where it passed under Leith Walk at Shrubhill. An enormous goods yard was provided on the east side of the Walk. When the Caley opened their Leith New Lines in 1903, they also provided a goods yard for Leith Walk, further to the north. Both were called Leith Walk (goods) so inevitably were referred to as the North British or Caley to differentiate them.
The Leith Walk. NBR (olive) and CR (blue) railways, later the LNER and LMS © SelfThe passenger station closed in 1930, another victim of competition from the electric tramway. After nationalisation, the ever wise British Railways decided to rationalise matters and renamed the ex-NBR station Leith Walk East and the ex-Caley station Leith Walk West. This makes perfect sense in principle to a naming committee in a far off office, except it results in Leith Walk East being more westerly than Leith Walk West on account of Leith Walk not running on a true north-south axis! Nothing is ever straightforward when it comes to the names of Leith’s railway stations!
If you have found this useful, informative or amusing, perhaps you would like to help contribute towards the running costs of this site (including keeping it ad-free and my book-buying budget) by supporting me on ko-fi. Or please do just share this post on social media or amongst friends.
These threads © 2017-2025, Andy Arthur
#NowAndThen #CaledonianRailway #Caley #EdinburghDalkeithRailway #NorthBritishRailway #RailwayStations #Railways #transport #Transportation #Written2019
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Dolphin Whisperer’s and Ferox’s Top Ten(ish) of 2024
By Dolphin Whisperer
Dolphin Whisperer
Every year, its end becomes more shocking and swift. Once, some guy told me, simply, “it only gets worse.” Not life though—attributing a better or worse or any sort of constant determination of our passage leaves a lot of room for falling into a void of enjoyment—life is, after all, a constant until its not. But time, or our sense of being in its too ever-present stream, flows at a rate that changes in ways to which we never quite catch up.
As such, there’s a comfort in knowing how much time an album, particularly one you enjoy will take. For the ten-to-twenty minutes it takes for grindcore proper to slap me silly or the forty-to-eighty minutes that it takes for my deepest progressive loves to wring out a moaning confession, I know where my attention lies, even if it’s only half there and half on a task at hand. Time and tasks, day to night, play to stop, music makes my world a better place. And entering my now third year at Angry Metal Guy, an institution that has been a fixture of my musical journey for even longer, I continue to hold a profound gratitude and excitement for another year of discovery.
2024 has had its challenges professionally and personally. 2025 will be no doubt the same, even if some trials we can see forming in the distance. But you want to know about the music, right? On that end, 2024 has yielded a heaping trove of great albums. Heck, even a Rodeö pick scratched at the rungs of an honorable mention. The below list barely scratches the surface of the breadth that the year has offered. Further down you will see Ferox‘s list, which captures a different collection equally rooted in joy. He might be more right than I am. But that matters little. Celebrate with us, your favorite collective of writers on the world wide web! Come hang with some of us on Discord too if you’d like. Most of the people there are certified flea-free. And don’t be too upset if 2025 doesn’t hit you the same at first. It’s just another year, and it’ll be over before you know it.
#ish. Kalandra // A Frame of Mind – At my core, I consider myself a Norwegian sad girl. Usually, this manifests in some sort of weepy, melancholy prog, the likes of Age of Silence or Madder Mortem.1 But Kalandra’s enfolkened an impassioned take on an artsy, progressive collection of empowering tunes hit me square in my aching heart from the moment I heard it. Most importantly, though, Kalandra knows that suffering is just a step on the path of growth and happiness, which is a message that inspires me every day.
#10. Dawnwalker // The Unknowing – The power to dream and envision a world driven by mysticism has an allure that’s hard to ignore. And while we know that more determinable laws guide the happenings of our daily lives, a glimpse of the unknown will always find its way into sequence. Dawnwalker putting this esoteric but ever-present concept into an atmospheric, genre-warped, playfully progressive package hardly surprises me, though. The British troupe has had my number since their unsung classic In Rooms,2 so I’m doing my last in continuing to love them despite Twelve‘s best efforts to underrate them.3
#9. Lizzard // Mesh – Lizzard’s 2021 opus Eroded is my favorite album of this decade so far. The French trio’s ability to warp deep, rhythm-tricky layers into driving and emotional rock songs his me at the core of my musical desire for cathartic hope expressed in an unassuming and lush framework. Mesh doesn’t present any differently in that regard. But its wrinkles on Lizzard’s timeless yet ’90s alternative-rooted oeuvre fuel Mesh’s inherent melancholy with a hope that’s jubilant, like a cracked smile on an overcast day.
#8. Dissimulator // Lower Form Resistance – [INCOMING TRANSMISSION.] “My name is Clyde, and I arrive from beyond with wonderful news. My good friend Ferox has survived this timeline after all, having learned to navigate the Lower Form Resistance assault of fast-twitch rhythms and slow-twitch death metal punctuation. His head, fully intact, sways wildly in its hairless glory—big dives for big skanking breaks, snappy rolls for whiplash accelerations. He may not be as rhythmically gifted in pit-galloping cadence as the virtuoso drum and bass duo that provides life to Dissimulator’s effortless strides, but Ferox is my everything nonetheless.” [END TRANSMISSION.]
#7. Mamaleek // Vida Blue – I couldn’t begin to tell you what has never landed about Mamaleek’s works before with a weird precision. As an act dedicated to sounding only like Mamaleek, their singular expression of tortured black(ish) metal warped by jazzy and slogging attitudes has manifested quite the take-it-or-leave-it musical experience. And while you, dear reader, may assume this is firmly up my alley, it has not been. At least not until Vida Blue served a bottom of the ninth heart-shaker as an ode to a departed friend.4 With a soulful swing, a tortured connection, and an exit velocity powered by equal parts loss and love, Mamaleek has clinched a campaign for my attention.
#6. Defeated Sanity // Chronicles of Lunacy – As an apex predator in the brutal death metal world, Defeated Sanity’s appearance arouses not questions of competency but rather calculations of the carnage wrought. Chronicles of Lunacy does not mark a turning point or novel twist in the Defeated Sanity timeline—its finely tuned lashings hit as inescapable all the same. When neither a beast’s reach, nor mass, nor attack speed goes contested, an exhibition of its might will flash with morbid glee. As such, Defeated Sanity need not surprise to strike mortal wound. Chronicles’ fangs glisten with an aged-imbrued tarnish, tearing at my flesh in every way I would expect. And I want more.
#5. Orgone // Pleroma – Meticulous and constructed as a master-work, Pleroma’s opening notes signal a trance. Acoustic twang and chamber instrument-fueled swoon build an atmosphere of wonder against a fervent and languished march of post-genre swells and death-fueled crescendos. Cycling through its many shades feels less like a fever dream and more of a trial-filled journey. Wielding a demure grandeur, Pleroma’s effortless realization of Orgone’s peerless vision never feels like the epic journey its runtime suggests. Were my time truly infinite, Pleroma would be even harder to rip away from the queue.
#4. Julie Christmas // Ridiculous and Full of Blood – A lady screaming bloody murder shouldn’t go down this smooth, but that’s always been the promise and success of Julie Christmas. Few vocalists leave me slack-jawed and ear-shaken in the wake of piercing cries, raw-throated shrieks, and impassioned lyrical slather. Yet, Ridiculous and Full of Blood cuts track after track out of sonic patterns that do exactly that, all while empowering a full band expression of alternative-laced grooves, post-informed climbs, and punk-tied sneer. The Christmas season sums a flurry of inspired performances under the banner of a madwoman. And I stand at the ready to fray my vocal cords in attempt to crack with the same battle-tested precision that Ms. Christmas has earned from a life hard-worn.
#3. Ingurgitating Oblivion // Ontology of Nought – Though born of minds unrelated, Ontology of Nought exists as an esoteric companion to the Pleroma embodiment. Orgone is the twin that went to conservatory, graduated with honors, and holds an honorable performing chair, all while remembering its young love for death metal. Ingurgitating Oblivion, on the other hand, dropped out, spiraled into entheogenic dissociation, earns a living gigging at jazz clubs—also maintains its youthful lust for the clamoring riff and hammering blast. Maximalism oozes a frothing wonder in the hiss of distorted chatter and rhythmic mastery. An imperfect and breathing construction rises and falls in ethereal inhales and vision-spinning mantras. Ontology of Nought deserves each of its over-budget minutes. Invest time in the freedom that it promises… “and cease to be.”
#2. OU // 蘇醒 II: Frailty – The casualness of OU’s inception belies its profound leap into my necessary rotation. No incumbent love ever has a defined position in the halls of end-of-year accolades,5 and even more so when the act’s very presence rang suspicious in its finely-tuned invasion to my critical wiles. But, as I noted when I first blew my love for 蘇醒 II: Frailty over the pages of Angry Metal Guy, it’s OU’s “idiosyncratic atmosphere” that pulls from a “polyrhythmic hypnosis” and masterful “energetic flow” that continues to chart them deservedly high in the annals of ’20s progressive music. And while this collision of classically-minded, synth-addicted madness slowly expands its universe one OU release at a time, I’m content to sit here and yell their praises at anyone who will listen.
#1. Pyrrhon // Exhaust – You know you’re getting old when an album about modern burnout and the pains of traffic resonates with you all the way from frozen shoulder to radiating lower back to cold-groaning knee. But when Pyrrhon stealth-bombed my aging metalhead mind with a tech-dial riff barrage of noisy and shouting proportions, I had no choice but to surrender. Exhaust demands attention from its initial irony-laced lift-off to its closing brutalist clock-out, swinging skronk-enabled splatters and ache-addled vituperation around every faded line and pothole in its death metal architecture. Though Pyrrhon uses simpler blocks, their construction here defies convention at every step. One fine commenter summed up Exhaust in the most succinct manner in that regard: “Death Metal, Hardcore, Noise Rock, Technical Death Metal. It’s just mathcore.” Except they took away the wrong message from that distillation. The verdict, in fact, is fuck you.
Honorable Mentions:
- Inner Strength // Daydreaming in Moonlight – Another way you know you’re getting old is that you love an album that sounds like it should have released in 1995. Alas, here we are.
- Dysrhythmia // Coffin of Conviction – Instrumental progressive music should be as exciting as Dysrhythmia. Comes for the Martyr riffs. Stay for the Metheny floating.
- Beaten to Death // Sunrise Over Rigor Mortis – Beaten to Death is still the best grindcore band on the planet. They probably won’t ever release a better album than Dødsfest!, but that’s OK. Their discography is now about two hours total. Go listen to it if you haven’t.
- Stygian Crown // Funeral for a King – Doom should always have a guitar tone that feels equally powered by swords and beer alongside vocals that feel soft like bar-stained leather stools.
- Kollapse // AR – I didn’t know KEN mode had a Danish doppelgänger with a frightening, large pink face. But they do, and boy does Kollapse know how to yell and riff.
- Sleepytime Gorilla Museum // of the Last Human Being – Had I infinitely more listening time, I may have been able to parse better this deeply cinematic and wacky slab of no wave emboldened prog. Most don’t actually earn the avant-garde tag the way SGT does.
- Defying // Wadera – Hour-long albums based on old Polish werewolf stories and horror movies shouldn’t be this easy to repeat, but I find myself often falling into Wadera’s unbreakable spell.
- Arthouse Fatso // Sycophantic Seizures: A Double Feature – I didn’t have radically-minded industrial deathgrind about the frustrated escapades of a fictional Orson Welles life on my 2024 bingo, but here I am telling you to listen to it anyway.
- Concrete Winds // Concrete Winds – Just this. And shitloads of riffs.
Disappointments o’ the Year:
- Myrath // Karma – I love Shehili so much. My love for power metal isn’t what it used to be, but Myrath’s exuberance while staying rooted in both the trickier waters of prog and the anthemic cries of power metal gave me hope both that I’d continue to latch on to the kind of playful love it can offer. But the arrangements on Karma, despite Myrath’s still life-affirming messages, do absolutely nothing to bolster that same joy for me. Karma sinks my listening brain. And that hurts.
- Pallbearer // Mind Burns Alive – The continued non-success of Pallbearer and their sleepy-toned take on creaky prog rock hurts the Dolph who fell in love with their weepy doom classic (and still controversial to true doomsters) Heartless. And yet the general blogging population seems to praise them for trying to reinvent sadboi roots rock with worse lyrics. And, for my money, Pallbearer is sounding increasingly thin live. If a return to glory is in store for Pallbearer, it will begin with them finally playing a riff again.
- Polterguts // Nobody Likes You – Okay, this EP actually rips because Polterguts rips. Hard. But, Polterguts, if you’re reading this, please put it on Bandcamp so I can link the shit out of it and give you money. I am disappointed that I have no way to contribute currency to your cause. “Ricky Has a Knife2” is worth the price of admission alone.
Songs o’ the Year:
Why give you one when I can give you twenty-seven? Why twenty-seven? That’s my secret. Now, I’ve talked enough, go out there and enjoy some music, friends. And enjoy this photo of my dogs.
Coconut (left), Kiwi (right) in a stylish Adidog sweater.
Ferox
I worked way too much in 2024. I can’t complain; it was meaningful work that I chose to take on, and it got me that much closer to not having to work at all if I don’t want to. Still, that’s what I’ll think of when I think of 2024: lots and lots of work. That had a knock-on effect, especially when it comes to hobbies like lifting, getting out to national parks, and writing here. I did very little of any of that. I kept up with metal as best I could, and embarked on a big end-of-year listening push to have an accurate picture of what came out in 2024. I’m grateful that I got to do a list at all this year, so I took the responsibility seriously… but I’d be lying if I said I was buried in the scene all year.
One of the highlights of my 2024 was meeting a whole slew of staffers in person. I traveled a bunch this year, both for work and for my daughter’s ballet pursuits, and with that came the chance to hang with some of the people who make this place go. My body count of staffers met this year: Steel Druhm, Madam X, Cherd, Twelve, Dr. Wyrm, Thus Spoke, El Cuervo, Doom et al, and Holdeneye. It was a veritable orgy of almost entirely chaste fellowship, and only one (1) bad hang among the lot!6
I’m grateful to Steel Druhm and Angry Metal Guy for indulging my schedule, and for the real leadership they provide at my fake job. I found this unique community because it had the best music writing on the internet, and that remains true today thanks to the talented people who contribute their time and enthusiasm to keeping the machinery humming. I’m lucky to be a small part of it, and hopeful that 2025 will give me more time to spend in the Hall.
#ish. Mother of Graves // The Periapt of Absence – My “-ish” spot typically goes to an album that might have listed if I just had more time with it. That holds true of the sophomore effort from Indianapolis’s Mother of Graves, which landed on my radar by way of Carcharadon‘s excellent TYHMHM piece. This slab of classic sadboi death doom transcends any tribcore concerns through sheer quality of execution. From opener “Gallows” through final track “Like Darkness to a Dying Flame,” The Periapt of Absence guides the listener through the stages of grief with varied compositions that maintain a consistent mood throughout. Classic death doom is alive and well.
#10. Wormed // Omegon – Maddog‘s compelling rave for Omegon is my personal Review o’ the Year; fortunately, the prose was well spent on this efficient and brutal riff delivery system. Wormed has been creating slam-adjacent otherworldly death metal for a good while now, and Omegon is a distillation of everything the band has learned over the past two decades. 2024 is the year I realized I’ve been a brutal death metal guy all along. With songs like “Pareidolia Robotica” and “Virtual Teratogenesis,” Wormed took me by the hand and guided me through this journey of self-discovery… all while the people in the offices around me called in noise complaints.
#9. Ripped to Shreds // Sanshi – The already impressive Ripped to Shreds leveled up with Sanshi, a blast of aggressive but technically adept death metal that never left my rotation after its release. The guitar hero shredding plays like a release valve to the vicious and punky energy that Andrew Lee injects into his compositions. This cycle of tension and release makes for an addictive listen that feels like it ends mere moments after you hit play. The thrash elements of the R2S sounds are more prevalent on Sanshi, meaning the band now scratches the same itch for me that Horrendous did with their last killer slab.
#8. Scumbag // Homicide Cult – Scumbag! SCUUUMMMMBAGGGG. This nasty bit of business, with its deathgrind touches and morbid sense of humor (“Pure Adrenaline Hard-On,” “The Meating”), was tailor-made for the Ferox sensibility. Herein lie twenty-eight minutes of death metal that never slams but still walks the same line that Wormhole managed to last year: brutal but somehow cheerful, and stoopid without being remotely dumb. Dylan Cruz, of this band and Noxis, came out of nowhere to occupy a huge chunk of my limited listening time this year.
#7. Black Curse // Burning in Celestial Poison – With Burning in Celestial Poison, Black Curse stages a forty-five-minute takeover of your central nervous system. Eldritch Elitist captured the elemental power of these five compositions better than I ever could, but this album gave me exactly what I needed in a 2024 that was characterized by an extreme lack of work-life balance. Metal can provide a safe outlet for less-than-savory feelings, and Black Curse expressed a lot of things for me that I couldn’t express myself and stay employed. Lose yourself in these five tracks and emerge scoured but smarter.
#6. Spectral Wound // Songs of Blood and Mire – The hot streak continues; Songs of Blood and Mire, Spectral Wound’s fourth album, is their best effort yet. Carcharadon capably cataloged crisp new cross-currents in the band’s sound, but the song quality remains the same. Tracks like “At Wine-Dark Midnight in the Mouldering Halls” and Song o’ the Year “Aristocratic Suicidal Black Metal” showcase the band’s gift for coupling aggression with sweeping melody. In this way, Spectral Wound recalls Watain without so much distracting ooga-booga. Songs of Blood and Mire finds them continuing to refine their sound and grow in confidence.
#5. Endonomos // Endonomos II – Enlightenment – Endonomos carried the torch for doom in 2024. Enlightenment is a stately procession, its six long tracks blending influences from all across the doom spectrum. This is music that soars as it plods. Steel Druhm noted similarities to both Khemmis and Fvneral Fvkk. Those comps are perfect; not since Carnal Confessions has a doom album so effectively cut through the clutter of genre tropes to evoke genuine emotion.
#4. Pyrrhon // Exhaust – I hate it when the promotional push for an album ties a record too strongly to the narrative of its creation. It’s like the record company is trying to force a reaction that the album itself might or might not evoke. So when Exhaust arrived with heavy-handed descriptions of process and what Pyrrhon went through trying to make the album happen, I bristled and stopped reading. Fortunately, the music on Exhaust speaks for itself. This is a bitter and blistering record that finds the band raging against their rage’s inability to change even a single thing. I’ve always appreciated Pyrrhon, but I’ve never connected with their music as immediately as I did on Exhaust.
#3. Defeated Sanity // Chronicles of Lunacy – Defeated Sanity has had quite the AMG journey. They’ve gone from being brushed aside by a n00b named Potato Jim to being on the receiving end of a double-4.0 fellating from the tenured likes of Dolphin Whisperer and Maddog. Chronicles of Lunacy finds Defeated Sanity extending the Colin Marston-enabled peak that they hit on 2020’s The Sanguinary Impetus. It takes extreme skill to weaponize the base and the stoopid this effectively. Defeated Sanity is more than up for the job.
#2. Inter Arma // New Heaven – Here’s another band that could be wrestling with The Law of Diminishing Recordings by now, but instead persists with quality release after quality release. Inter Arma never repeats themselves, but each of their albums could only come from them. Hot take: Sky Funeral has remained my favorite Inter Arma album even as they’ve racked up an epic run of excellence. New Heaven makes a run at unseating it. This is a slab that rewards the many repeated listens I gave it in 2024; it sat in my top slot for much of the year until a late-breaking favorite pushed it aside.
#1. Noxis // Violence Inherent in the System – This is my third time publishing a list at AMG; each previous year, I had clear Album o’the Year winners in Immolation’s Acts of God and Afterbirth’s In But Not Of. 2024 marked the first Listurnalia that began with an opening for my top slot. But as I weeded through my favorite music of the year, I realized: Noxis drew me in with the bass flourish at the beginning of album opener “Skullcrushing Defilement,” and they still haven’t let go. The Pittsburgher in me hates to credit anything from Cleveland, but Noxis weeded out that deeply rooted prejudice with their inventive and fresh take on death metal. Every track on Violence Inherent in the System is a wild ride that alternately crushes, challenges, and tickles. The only break from the madcap pace comes on mid-album interlude “Excursion,” but that just prepares you for the utter barking lunacy of “Horns Echo Over Chorazim.” That song incorporates strange arrangements that include various woodwind instruments, and somehow they do it with zero pretension and abundant commitment to brutality. Listurnalia may have begun with a blank space atop my list, but it ended with Noxis firmly entrenched as the winner of 2024.
Honorable Mentions:
- Stenched // Purulence Gushing from the Coffin – This one-man outfit captured that elusive filthy magic and spewed out the annum’s premiere filthy wallow.
- Aborted // Vault of Horrors – These Belgian veterans, long under-appreciated in the Hall, finally found their champion in Grier. They hooked themselves up to the juvenation machine by leaning into the melodeath that has been creeping into their sound, and cranked out their best set in years.
- Vitriol // Suffer and Become – Here’s a mean and heavy slab that seemed to fade from the general consciousness as the year wore on, but remains worthy of note.
Disappointment o’the Year:
Ferox! I just didn’t have time to make a meaningful contribution here this year. It has been a pleasure to watch other members of my n00b class like Dolph and Maddog and Thus become AMG institutions, even as I mostly watch from the sidelines and come out to play when I can.
Song o’the Year:
Imagine being asked to name your favorite song of the year, and responding with a twenty-seven song playlist!7
Show 7 footnotes
- Whose very good outing is another in a long line of successes. Old Eyes, New Heart missing the cut should ring testament to how wonderful 2024 has been. ↩
- In case you don’t know, Ampwall is a music e-commerce hub built by members of Woe as an alternative experience to Bandcamp. Vowing to maintain an artist-first and community-influenced direction, Ampwall holds a lot of promise to the musical underground. And the whole Dawnwalker discography digitally! ↩
- Seems like a 4.0 innit. ilu Twelve. <3 ↩
- Former Mamaleek keys maestro Eric Livingston. RIP. ↩
- Pain of Salvation, feel free to read this and prove me a liar. ↩
- It was Grier, right? – Steel ↩
- Who would do such a thing? Surely, if one were to commit such a heinous act, they’d at least provide a cute dog picture to atone. – Dolph ↩
#2024 #AFrameOfMind #Aborted #AR #ArthouseFatso #BeatenToDeath #BlackCurse #BurningInCelestialPoison #ChroniclesOfLunacy #CoffinOfConviction #ConcreteWinds #Dawnwalker #DaydreamingInMoonlight #DefeatedSanity #Defying #Dissimulator #Dysrhythmia #Endonomos #EndonomosIIEnlightenment #Exhaust #FuneralForAKing #GodsOverBrokenPeople #HomicideCult #Horrendous #IngurgitatingOblivion #InnerStrength #InterArma #JulieChristmas #Kalandra #Khemmis #Kollapse #Lists #Listurnalia #Listurnalia2024 #Lizzard #LowerFormResistance #Mamaleek #Mesh #MotherOfGraves #Myrath #NewHeaven #NobodyLikesYou #Noxis #OfTheLastHumanBeing #Omegon #OntologyOfNought #Orgone #OU #Pallbearer #Pleroma #Polterguts #PurulenceGushingFromTheCoffin #Pyrrhon #RidiculousAndFullOfBlood #RippedToShreds #Sanshi #SaveThisUtility #Scumbag #SleepytimeGorillaMuseum #SongsOfBloodAndMire #SpectralWound #Stenched #StygianCrown #SufferAndBecome #SunriseOverRigorMortis #SycophanticSeizuresADoubleFeature #ThePeriaptOfAbsence #TheUnknowing #VaultOfHorrors #VidaBlue #ViolenceInherentInTheSystem #Vitriol #Wadera #Watain #Wormed #蘇醒IIFrailty
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Angry Metal Guy’s Top 10(ish) of 2025 By Angry Metal Guy
Every year has been shitty for a while, and in some ways, 2025 was the shittiest of them all. The widespread sense that the End Is Nigh is what I would charitably call our zeitgeist.1 And I feel comfortable saying, it’s a shitty zeitgeist. But in defiance of the shit burger we’re all eating every day while we wait for the AI drone war to start, 2025 was my best year in a while. It did, in fact, see me more involved on the front and back ends of AngryMetalGuy.com than I’d been in a long time. And like those lists we’ve already published, AMG, both as a persona and community, has been a refuge for me during difficult times. The joy of discovery and the eclecticism inherent in what we do here have been a major part of why I love this blog. So, honestly, that’s been nice.
In terms of the blog’s health, AngryMetalGuy.com is holding steady. We’ve got a growing team of n00bs covering some of the holes we’ve had in the schedule.2 I worked very hard on training them in combination with Druhm, and it’s fair to say we were both happy with the result. We had some of our best candidates to date, and that made me proud and happy. There’s still room for a few more, so we might dig into the pool in the early part of 2026. So if you applied, all hope is not lost. We continue to attract around 1.25 million views a month, and that’s held steady for three years running. Obviously, we would like to continue to grow. But I have a sneaking suspicion that we’re actually seeing a slight downturn in visitors because of Generative AI. There are, of course, a lot of people who go to Google and write “My Favorite Band – New Album Review,” and they will be greeted by an AngryMetalGuy.com link that tends to place pretty highly on the Google Machine and awaits their complaints with open arms. But I suspect there are other kinds of views we’ve accrued – those which end up in people grabbing album art or looking for release dates – that disappear when people are requesting that ChatGPT do that for them. And while LLMs will link you after plagiarizing you, they’ll only do it if you let them, and we do not. And so any conversions of people checking linked resources are probably lost.3 There have been some weird months here and there with seemingly anomalously low numbers, so who even knows.
The active n00bs have allowed us to revive the three-posts-a-day pace,4 and we only went dark for five days during 2025. As a collective, we posted 699 posts—down from the very peak of 2019’s nearly 1,000 posts!—but in line with where we’ve been since Covid. And, our posts continue to be longer than they were in 2019, averaging 901 words for a total of 629,905 words that we produced for free in 2025. That’s a 2600-page term paper—Times New Roman, 12 point font, double-spaced on A4 paper.5 This dedication to quantity derives from the whip of an analytics-driven Steel Druhm, but wouldn’t be possible without our amazing staff putting their shoulders to the Eternal Boulder ov Metal™ and rolling it uphill every day, saying “One must imagine Sisyphus happy. One must imagine Sisyphus happy. One must imagine Sisyphus happy.”
We continue to have international appeal, as well, though the country rankings haven’t changed much from 2024. Like last year, our top five is made up of the English-speaking world (US, UK, CAN, AUS at five) + Germany (at four).6 Weirdly, we are getting a sizable amount of traffic from China, which clocks in at six for the first time. There are almost certainly shenanigans at play with those numbers, as I am not aware of any influx of Chinese fans here recently. Maybe that’s AI traffic. Maybe that’s VPN traffic. Maybe we’ve been infiltrated and are now a communist honey pot. Maybe Druhm is buying traffic. Or, maybe, Winnie the Pooh has finally discovered how excellent the realm of heavy metal really is, and China is going through a different kind of cultural revolution! Regardless, 7-10 is made up of the Netherlands, Sweden, Poland, and France, with Spain and Finland dropping out of the top ten. The biggest news, however, when it comes to our international readership, is that signs point strongly to Pope Francis having been our solitary reader in the Holy See. The venerable Franciscan passed away in April of 2025, and I don’t believe it’s a coincidence that no one appears to have made the pilgrimage from the Vatican to Angry Metal Guy this year.
It’s worth noting that we lost more than a few stalwarts along the way in 2025,7 largely due to the #Cursed-Boomer-Posting chat on Slack, which has torn us apart. There may also have been some other influences, such as marriages, having high-paying jobs, running TV shows, having actual lives, or resenting me.8 Regardless, for all those who have worked hard to make AngryMetalGuy.com go, but who are not here with us anymore, I just want to say thank you. Despite my autistic isolation and standoffishness, I do love you all and miss you. The door is, of course, always open. And I am happy to see some special little guys who’ve been in deep freeze popping their heads out of the sand and grabbing promo. It’s a wonderful sight to behold, and maybe we’ll see some newfound productivity from old friends in 2026.
To close, I want to thank everyone – readers and writers alike – for your enthusiasm, your dedication to AngryMetalGuy.com as an institution, and your undying fealty to me, Angry Metal Guy.9 I know I can come off as harsh. And I know that some people grumble that I’m too hard on them when I read their texts or when they have divergent opinions in the comments, but that’s only true if you’ve never met a passive construction you didn’t love or if you’re wrong about metal. And, as I tell my students, we’re a team. Our goal is to make sure that AMG produces the very highest quality writing, while covering as much of the scene as possible.10 And given the loyalty of our readers, your comments, and “the eye test,” as it were, we are achieving that goal consistently. I’m still very proud of that and, if I stop to think about it, humbled by it, too.
While it feels like there’s a lot to dread after the 2025 that was, we still have a lot to be excited about here. So let’s hope that 2026 isn’t all like it’s felt in the first five days or so. Anyway, I have gone on far too long, have a wordy, overwrought list.
#(ish) 3: Helms Deep // Chasing the Dragon [June 20th, 2025 | Nameless Grave Records | Bandcamp] — Chasing the Dragon is super fun. It’s fun, it’s loud, and it’s a little stupid in a way that I find endearing. And, as I remarked in June, while US Power Metal has been getting a lot of love around these parts, Helms Deep has not been on the receiving end of nearly enough of that love. While other bands showed up to a back alley knife fight, these Florida men showed up with a bejet-packed dragon and a collection of songs that burned hotter than dragonsfire, melting the competition down and shaming their lineages for decades to come. And joking hyperbole aside, Helms Deep doesn’t feel like a novelty act. They aren’t just good ’cause I find them funny. Chasing the Dragon features playing that’s sharp and vital across the board, with guitars that never stand still, a singer who sells every chorus with the right balance of chops, cheese, and buckets of swagger. Said differently, Helms Deep is just dudes playing good, honest heavy metal while having a great time. What more do you need?
#(ish) 2: Vittra // Intense Indifference [September 19th, 2025 | Self-release | Bandcamp] — Vittra’s Intense Indifference shows up hungry, plays fast, hits hard, and gets out before you have time to get bored. Thirty-three minutes of riff-first, bethrashened melodeath go by in a blur; the hooks are sticky, the harmonies are sharp, and the energy is manic and adventurous. While the At the Gates lineage is obvious,11 Vittra pulls in enough Soilwork polish and Mors Principium Est flash to songwriting that’s focused on momentum rather than atmosphere, and the result is addictive. And what really pushes this record from really good to great are the flashes of the unexpected: honkytonk piano, bluesy acoustic passages, and classic rock phrasing that shouldn’t work, but does. It’s great listening to an album this full of piss and vinegar. I get excited when bands pop up that make the kind of thrashy, intense melodic death that never begs for an Insomnium comp. And sure, these guys have room to grow, but Intense Indifference caused me to feel anything but.
#(ish) 1: Arjen Anthony Lucassen // Songs No One Will Hear [September 12th, 2025 | InsideOut Music | Bandcamp] — Arjen Lucassen has been a favorite of mine during the time that AngryMetalGuy.com has been up and running. The “poofy-haired cheesehead”12 behind many of my favorite albums during AMG’s time is still a gem even in 2025. Crazily, Arjen’s first ‘solo record’ Lost in the New Real was released in 2012,13 and Songs No One Will Hear is its direct successor. A true concept record—with Toehider’s god-tier singer, Michael Mills, voicing a radio DJ talking to listeners about impending doom—it reflects both our End Is Nigh Zeitgeist and Arjen’s particular… idiom. Thoroughly enjoyable from start to finish, Songs No One Will Hear is both tongue-in-cheek and yet deeply aware of the nature of information, grifting, and societal collapse, while still displaying the kind of referential goofiness that made Lost in the New Real such a charming record.14 The thing that dinged Songs No One Will Hear a little for me is the sense of uncanny familiarity. At times, it sounds like Arjen was working specifically to emulate the structure of Lost in the New Real. That created a bit of cognitive dissonance that I have never quite gotten over. It also drove a lot of replays of its under-the-radar predecessor rather than the album I should have been reviewing. But is Songs one of the best 11 records o’ 2025? I certainly think so.
#10: An Abstract Illusion // The Sleeping City [October 17th, 2025 | Willowtip | Bandcamp] — The Sleeping City had two strikes against it. First, it had the unenviable task of following Woe, a record that could easily have been the template on which they built their sound. It’s hard to break away from an overwhelmingly popular sound, yet these Ore Islanders took a left turn, exhibiting a level of daring I admire. The shift in aesthetic is the story of The Sleeping City in a lot of ways; the synths, the vibe, and the mood lean into dystopian sci-fi, and it’s a choice that works. What I love about The Sleeping City is that it’s detailed and detail-oriented without distracting from the expansiveness of the songwriting, which remains evocative and carefully structured. And while they sound comfortable letting songs breathe, they never get lost in the quest for “atmosphere” that undermines many modern releases. Second,15 the real gripe about The Sleeping City was the mastering job. But even a mastering job that clips peaks and fills valleys shows just how strong the raw material is. And so, finally, The Sleeping City feels like the product of a band choosing growth over safety while being true to themselves. And that’s an admirable trait that I hope they never lose.
#9: Fallujah // Xenotaph [June 13th, 2025 | Nuclear Blast Records | Bandcamp] — Fallujah landing on my list came as a genuine surprise to me, mostly because I really had quietly written them off. I used to like them, but they never carried that In Flames-style of eternal hope for me. Xenotaph pulled me back in by doing a deceptively simple thing: reintroducing attack. Everything about this record feels more immediate; guitars cut, compositions move with purpose, and songs are taut and sharp. The atmospheric elements remain, but they’re now integrated into something heavier and more immediate. I love the balance Fallujah finds, combining that late-Cynic energy with the aggression of brutal and technical death. And the deeper I got, the more Xenotaph rewarded me. Repetition revealed interlinked ideas and layered guitar work that shoots like a web throughout, creating a sinuous structure on which everything rests. As I wrote in my Record o’ the Month blurb, “Fallujah has achieved a conceptual evolution on Xenotaph that feels true to their origins and yet develops their sound in ways that make it accessible, and yet, truly unique.” It isn’t exactly br00tal death metal, but it’s not so drenched in “atmosphere” that it lacks tension. Most importantly, it worked.
#8: Scardust // Souls [July 18th, 2025 | Frontiers Records | Stream or Buy at Qobuz] — Scardust landing at number eight sans review is another casualty of my 2025 Stack o’ Shame, though this was less neglect than simple overextension in a year where too many heavy hitters landed at once. July, yo, what a month. Unfortunately, I missed the review window, then I missed the window to pawn it off responsibly, and by the time I circled back, it was late. However, Scardust’s third full-length is a sharp, confident 42 minutes of symphonic power/prog that feels fully aware and unique. While it doesn’t quite lock together as tightly as Strangers did at a conceptual and compositional level, Souls more than compensates for that with sheer craft. The orchestral and choral arrangements are some of the strongest I heard all year, and Scardust’s chemistry is ridonkulous. The rhythm section especially deserves accolades, with basswork that should be forcing its way into “best of” conversations. As a band, Scardust exists in the interstices of genre, where comparisons kind of work but can’t capture their unique voice. And while the band is impressive, the compositions feel so coherent because of Noa Gruman, who carries the album with control, range, and an incomparable soprano. Her extreme register (that is, growls) stays mostly holstered here, but her presence—and sheer talent—is on constant display, balancing different styles, moods, and feels. And her vocal performance isn’t the only standout vocal performance on Souls. The closing “Touch of Life” trilogy finds Ross Jennings (Haken) popping up in full “weird Ross” mode, which ends up as the cherry on top. The result is smart, muscular, and memorable; an album I’m ashamed to have missed.
#7: Aephanemer // Utopie [October 31st, 2025 | Napalm Records | Bandcamp] — Aephanemer’s Utopie landed, as I mentioned in my Record o’ the Month blurb, squarely at the top of my Stack o’ Shame. I was honored to be able to get access to this and start listening early, and I was immediately impressed. Yet, I got sick. Darkness took me, and I strayed out of thought and time, and stars wheeled overhead, and every day was as long as the life age of the earth. Meanwhile, Utopie sat there reminding me of my failures until Grin Reaper saved my ass and gave Aephanemer’s newest opus the unhinged tongue bath it so rightfully deserved. Utopie takes everything these French melodic death metallers have been doing over the past couple of albums and tightens the screws until the whole machine purrs with confidence. The neoclassical elements have become a perfect blend that helps everything work perfectly. Utopie flows; songs connect, ideas develop, momentum carries everything forward, and yet Aephanemer does not sacrifice the immediacy and energy that makes melodic death metal such a fine dopamine mine. While I haven’t sat down and learned the parts, I feel like the guitars are more fluid and more expressive, resulting in special melodies propelled by a buoyancy reflected in the theme. And you know me, what I want from great records is a holistic sense of greatness. Happily, Aephanemer accomplishes just that on Utopie. Had I been operating at full capacity when it dropped, I would have written a review that kids would call “extra.”16
#6: Insania // The Great Apocalypse [June 13th, 2025 | Frontiers Music | Stream or Buy on Qobuz] — The Great Apocalypse, contrary to its name, is sneaky. It doesn’t gallop in and smack you in the face with shock or novelty, but instead, it reveals its strength through confidence, craft, and an almost unfair level of replay value. What initially feels like—and has been so often written off as—a solid, familiar Europower record gradually opens up to be something richer and more rewarding. And it’s kept paying dividends the longer I’ve been sitting with it. Insania sounds, as I noted when I wrote the review, like a band fully aware of their lineage and completely at ease with it. But the truly confident understand themselves enough to think differently. The resulting record is full of massive, sticky hooks, choruses that hit with power metal optimism and momentum, and electrifying guitars throughout. In fact, while investigating their discography, I was struck by how much Insania upped their game on The Great Apocalypse. And key to that is the guitar, which elevates the record by resisting predictability and yet coexisting on a meta-level with the genre that they know so well. Songs evolve instead of looping, melodies get reshaped rather than repeated, and familiar ideas or tropes are nudged just enough off-center to stay engaging but familiar. The Great Apocalypse approaches with intention, and Insania performs like a band that’s rediscovering why they love playing this kind of music in the first place. This record is exhilarating, memorable, and deeply satisfying, which is why it belongs among these other great releases.
#5: Kalaveraztekah // Nikan Axkan [May 2nd, 2025 | Self-release | Bandcamp] — In what I’m pretty sure is a first for me, an Ünsïgnëd Bänd Rödëö contestant has made my Top Ten(ish) list. I’ve had plenty of unsigned bands on my lists, but I walked into Kalaveraztekah’s masterful Nikan Axkan utterly unprepared for what I would find. Like a kid buying music in the ’90s, I just looked at that amazing cover art and decided that I was going to join the team reviewing this record instead of the other one. And that twist of fate has earned Mexico’s finest Aztec-themed death metal band a spot on the End o’ Year Metal List o’ Record™.17 As I cleverly wrote in my Record o’ the Month blurb: “There’s no sense that these Hidrocálidos are some kind of novelty act. They aren’t a Mexican Eluveitie, just playing Dark Tranquillity riffs while putting a Ritual Death Flute over it for 40 seconds in every song.”18 Rather, Nikan Axkan is chock full of muscular riffing and the kind of grindy death metal that I’ve always associated with the Mexican scene. Combined with a high-concept connecting to Mexican pre-history and the judicious use of a fucking death flute, I just never quit listening to Nikan Axkan.19 And so here they are, in the Top 5 of my Top 10(ish) of 2025,20 and it couldn’t be more deserved.
#4: Impureza // Alcázares [July 11th, 2025 | Season of Mist | Bandcamp] — I admit, I have tried to lead by example. I have attempted to become a servant leader. Rather than eating up a ton of oxygen and making everything actually about me (instead of just in jest) and what I want as Angry Metal Guy, I have, with time and wisdom, tried to allow others a chance to spread their wings. One of the things that means is that I can’t just bogart other writers’ “discoveries,” and I try not to block them if they grab something before I do.21 So, in that context, you’ll understand that I got pretty excited when I realized that I could review the newest Impureza without poaching it. The band’s approach to metal—infused with flamenco and semi-fantastical alternate-historical high concepts about colonial history—had entranced me previously, but I always felt like they were leaving a lot on the table. Their sound had not quite blended the flamenco and the metal, but rather, the genres sat side by side. Alcázares changes that. From start to finish, Alcázares is addictive, creative, musically impressive, and just a lot of fun. The artful ability of these Orléanais-via-España to marry such disparate styles with genuinely unique approaches to music that run as deeply as the very notion of meter is one of the most impressive feats accomplished in metal in 2025. But it’s not just a meta-concern of the artistic feat that excites me. Alcázares is a fucking banger that can stimulate your intellect, or that can leave your neck sore. Take your pick!22
#3: Phantom Spell // Heather & Hearth [July 18th, 2025 | Cruz del Sur Music | Bandcamp] — Phantom Spell has the benefit of being a genuine surprise. My happy place, when I can afford to be there, is digging through the promo bin and listening to everything I can get my hands on. I have made so many fantastic discoveries there, just immersed in my own little world, listening to samples to get a feel of what we’re being sent. Heather & Hearth looked like classic Steel Druhmcore: Cruz del Sur Records, retro metal, D&D Basic Set art. I popped it in, got dragged in, and totally distracted from the rest of what I was doing. I know that this might seem incongruent, but Heather & Hearth sounds fresh. In a world of hypercompressed, hyper-reamped, extremer-than-thou metal, the act of writing good songs with tons of vocal harmonies, instruments that sit in their sonic corridors, and—despite being recorded by one single dude—a convincingly live vibe feels “like a radical act.”23 I quickly grew to love Heather & Hearth, shared it with all the normies I know who love Ghost (“Isn’t this so much better?”), and began singing its praises. And I’ve been happy to see it popping up on lists throughout list season. It means a lot to me that people can hear just how good Phantom Spell is. And Phantom Spell also proved to be quite generative, in that I wrote the Spotify post as a response to a discussion about why Heather & Hearth wasn’t available there. Easily one of the best records I heard in 2025, and I’m looking forward to hearing so much more.
#2: In Mourning // The Immortal [August 29th, 2025 | Supreme Chaos Records | Bandcamp] — When a record is truly exceptional, the hardest part is often articulating why it has transcended other things without reducing it to a checklist. In Mourning’s fantastic The Immortal resists that kind of accounting in the best possible way. Its melodies are lush and emotionally evocative, capable of landing with equal force whether they’re carried by aching vocals or unfurled through long, expansive, yet intimate, trem-picked guitar passages. The riffing is punishing but disciplined, balancing weighty chug with sharper, blackened melodies, creating a constant tension between death metal heft and sadboi atmosphere without fully committing to drowning the production in reverb. And yet, none of this marks a radical departure from what In Mourning has done before—has been doing since 2008. The crucial difference here is in execution: every compositional choice seems to land exactly where it should be. In a sense, this calls attention to the role of probability, as much as inspiration or songcraft, in composition. Some records feel blessed from the outset, where one can go through the same process again and never produce the same results. The hooks here stick without feeling forced, climaxes are perfectly placed, and the pacing across the record gives each track room to breathe while contributing to the kind of flow reserved for only the best albums. Even moments that might feel familiar hit differently on The Immortal, like everything snaps into place. The Immortal succeeds, then, not just on craft but on feel: it feels heavier, sadder, and more resonant than its predecessors; and it stands comfortably among the strongest melodic death metal releases in years.
#1: Calva Louise // Edge of the Abyss [July 11th, 2025 | Mascot Records | Bandcamp] — Edge of the Abyss ran away with my listening this year in a way I genuinely don’t remember happening before, and that probably tells you most of what you need to know. The record is frantic, restless, and overloaded with ideas, moving between genres and feels with the speed of fast-cut editing; shifting at the drop of a dime. That both makes the record fun to listen to and keeps it surprising and fresh even after dozens of listens. The pace and density line up uncannily well with where my own brain tends to live, and I suspect that’s a part of why it lodged itself so firmly in my rotation. Calva Louise writes songs that feel driven by impulse and curiosity rather than caution or genre boundaries, and that creative energy and freedom are contagious. Jess Allanic’s pop instincts and melodic sense anchor the chaos, lending the lighter passages real emotional weight and memorability, rather than merely serving as connective tissue. Edge of the Abyss’s incorporation of Latin rhythmic elements and melodic sensibilities ended up also being a personal bonus; Latin music has been a refuge for me from musical monotony for years, and hearing them integrated naturally into Edge of the Abyss was exciting, and it generated affection for this wayward Venezuelan and her French and English bandmates. What really sealed the deal for me, though, was how committed the band sounds to its vision. The songwriting is ambitious and fun, but it doesn’t feel scattered. The album has a cinematic feel – complemented by literally cinematic music videos – but doesn’t feel bloated or melodramatic. And Calva Louise sports a swagger unique to bands who are just doing exactly what they want to be doing. Since July, I’ve kept coming back to Edge of the Abyss and forgetting I had even enjoyed other records this year. There’s a real sense of becoming here; of a band pulling its influences together into something that feels unique. And I also feel invested in Calva Louise in a way I haven’t been with many bands. I really am so happy to see them growing and succeeding. I love seeing them landing on people’s lists here and elsewhere. They have so much potential, and I am so eager to see what they do next. But should the worst befall them, I’ll always have Edge of the Abyss, and it already feels like an all-timer.
Honorable Mentions
Sarastus // Agony Eternal [July 1st, 2025 | Dominance of Darkness Records | Bandcamp] — Stolen from me by one Kenstrosity, Sarastus was a joyous discovery by me in the depths of the promo bin. One part black metal with a touch of death n’ roll for vibes, Agony Eternal strikes hard at modern conventions of black metal and sounds fresh by playing fast, unapologetic, engaging music with razor-sharp riffs. Melodic, without being sickly sweet or cheesy, with a ton of attack and great songwriting chops, Sarastus really threads the needle on Agony Eternal, making something that is driven and addictive, but undeniably black metal.
Wytch Hazel // V: Lamentations [July 4th, 2025 | Bad Omen | Bandcamp] — I’ve been back and forth with Wytch Hazel in the past. I have enjoyed what they do, but in the past I’ve been more skeptical of specifically nostalgiacore records that don’t feel like they’re adding much “new.” First, I think I’m just getting past that problem, as the “new” in metal is emphasizing things I don’t love about the scene. But second, I think V: Lamentations is just a more engaging record. From the word ‘go,’ Wytch Hazel writes with a kind of urgency that gives their brand of ’70s-tinged metal an extra kick, and the energy sits so well with me. Maybe the songwriting is just a bit tighter, maybe it’s faster, I don’t know—I didn’t write the proper review. All I know is that I keep circling back to Lamentations in a way that I haven’t done as much with their earlier albums. And that made it easy to put in the running for Listurnalia and to give my personal Angry Stamp o’ Approval™.
Mors Principium Est // Darkness Invisible [September 26th, 2025 | Perception/Reigning Phoenix Music | Stream or Buy on Qobuz] — Probably the grower of the year, Darkness Invisible surprised me by sticking around. When I started reviewing it, I expected not to like it much. I had been a big fan of the band’s previous output and of their former guitarist’s solo record from last year. But with familiarity—and time spent dissecting it—I became increasingly impressed with the album. While the production is busy and pulls it down, the writing forges a new path that better represents the vision of MPE’s founding member, Ville Viljanen. And that vision is bleak, blackened, and surprisingly sticky. No matter your opinion on the end of the previous incarnation, Darkness Invisible at least demonstrates that there is still a vital future for Finland’s most underrated melodic death metal powerhouse. And that’s a future to which I look forward.
Blackbraid // Blackbraid III [August 8th, 2025 | Self-release | Bandcamp] — I have a Gollumesque distaste for modern black metal. I am physically incapable of starting a review or blurb of a black metal band without reminding readers how much I hate “atmosphere” in the post-Cascadian black metal era. “Give it to us raw and wriggling!” I growl at all the fat hobbitses who try to feed me empty, overcooked “atmosphere.” Blackbraid doesn’t want to feed me atmosphere. Instead, Blackbraid’s III trembles with a vibe that brings me back to discovering black metal; at times blistering, at times introspective, but rarely overstaying its welcome and never feeling like its primary goal is to be the band that defanged black metal for good to make it okay to listen to for kids in the suburbs. I’ll be listening to III for a long time.
Tómarúm // Beyond Obsidian Euphoria — This record is too long. It’s got too much hype among the staff. And also, it’s too damned good to be an honorable mention. And yet, there are only so many #(ish)es, and I got to Beyond Obsidian Eurphoria too late to really give it the kind of sustained love that it needs to properly list. Still, once I started listening, I’ve been swinging past it every day. Sometimes twice. The songwriting is a bit wandering, the album is a bit overwhelming, and yet there is an undeniable vibe that Tómarúm traffics in, and that’s sneakily sticky. Combine that techy Death with something akin to Disillusion, and maybe you’ve got your comp. The only complaint I have is that some of the melodies end up intentionally arch in a way that makes me think that they are actively trying not to give the ear something to latch onto. That’s dumb, but it’s also very 2025. And hey, at least there’s a really easy trick for them to sell out with.
…and Oceans // The Regeneration Itinerary [May 23rd, 2025 | Season of Mist | Bandcamp] —The Regeneration Itinerary was a lot more controversial among fans than I expected, but I really enjoyed it. As I wrote in May, “It’s always fun to watch bands defy Angry Metal Guy’s Law of Diminishing Recordings™, and while The Regeneration Itinerary isn’t their best record yet, 30 years after their debut, …and Oceans is still releasing vital music that’s impossible to overlook.” And that’s just true facts as stated by a metal-knower. While not quite the tour de force of its predecessors, this record is a solid bit of weirdo black metal with some of the best art in the biz. I recommend it highly.
Haxprocess24 // Beyond What Eyes Can See [July 25th, 2025 | Transcending Obscurity Records | Bandcamp] — Four songs, three of which are over 10 minutes long, and a combo of what I’d call post-Opeth songwriting with OSDM aesthetics, Beyond What Eyes Can See deserved more attention this year and ended up, instead, on my Stack o’ Shame™. This isn’t a reflection on them; they play vital death metal and deserve accolades for their expansive vision and the way everything flows. They just got eaten up by the July where everything got released. Sorry, boys, but here’s your fig leaf!
Majestica // Power Train [February 7th, 2025 | Nuclear Blast Records | Stream or Buy at Qobuz] — Back in like 2008, I saw a band called ReinXeed play a whole bunch of covers of Swedish dance/electronica “group” E-Type at a Culture Night in Umeå. I remember hearing from people in the local scene that they were “big in Japan,” and I listened to some stuff, but wasn’t super moved by it at the time. In 2019, ReinXeed changed their name to Majestica and got signed to Nuclear Blast. And damnit if they aren’t just a lot better than they were in 2008. Power Train, which is on our collective Stack o’ Shame™, is the band’s third full-length under the moniker, and it rocks the same kind of sickly sweet melodies, guitar gymnastics, and general sense of fun that makes power metal my go-to genre a lot of days. While not quite as sticky and addictive as some other things higher up the list, Power Train was a solid addition to the band’s discography and one of the better power records I heard this year. You’ve come a long way, baby!
Dormant Ordeal // Tooth and Nail [April 18th, 2025 | Willowtip Records | Bandcamp] — While not as high on this record as others on the staff, Dormant Ordeal is undeniably vital. And I’m just never going to write a better blurb than I did when they got Record o’ the Month for April: “This record hits a sweet spot inside of me, best described as the ‘oh yeah, that’s how death metal is done’ spot. The riffs flow, and my brain just opens up the spigots, releasing a veritable tsunami of dopamine. Every riff that cuts, every transition that seethes, and every recognition of the slick, skilled ways that these guys construct songs, I get a nice big kick of that Happy Chemical. Tooth and Nail is dynamic, punishing, aggressive, and better yet, it’s smart.” Man, that guy can write!
Aversed // Erasure of Color [March 25th, 2025 | M-Theory Audio | Bandcamp] — Last, and I guess technically least – but that isn’t taking into account that there were like 10,000 albums released in 2025 and there are only like 25 on this list – is Aversed’s Erasure of Color. Part of the reason for its late arrival is that, despite being our Record o’ the Month for March, Erasure of Color didn’t actually make it onto my personal playlist until quite a bit later. And damn, that was kind of a big miss on my part. Great melodeath with a unique flavor and great intensity; there’s something thoughtful and sharp about this record. Combine that with excellent album art and the Dolphin Whisperer seal of approval, and Erasure of Color has everything fans of melodeath need to carry them through this wasteland. I will need to keep my eyes on Aversed going forward.
#AndOceans #2025 #Aephanemer #AnAbstractIllusion #AngryMetalGuy #AngryMetalGuySTop10Ish #ArjenLucassen #Aversed #Blackbraid #CalvaLouise #ChasingTheDragon #DormantOrdeal #EdgeOfTheAbyss #Fallujah #Haxprocess #HelmsDeep #Impureza #InMourning #Insania #IntenseIndifference #Kalaveraztekah #Majestica #MorsPrincipiumEst #PhantomSpell #Sarastus #Scardust #Tómarúm #Vittra #WytchHazel -
Angry Metal Guy’s Top 10(ish) of 2025 By Angry Metal Guy
Every year has been shitty for a while, and in some ways, 2025 was the shittiest of them all. The widespread sense that the End Is Nigh is what I would charitably call our zeitgeist.1 And I feel comfortable saying, it’s a shitty zeitgeist. But in defiance of the shit burger we’re all eating every day while we wait for the AI drone war to start, 2025 was my best year in a while. It did, in fact, see me more involved on the front and back ends of AngryMetalGuy.com than I’d been in a long time. And like those lists we’ve already published, AMG, both as a persona and community, has been a refuge for me during difficult times. The joy of discovery and the eclecticism inherent in what we do here have been a major part of why I love this blog. So, honestly, that’s been nice.
In terms of the blog’s health, AngryMetalGuy.com is holding steady. We’ve got a growing team of n00bs covering some of the holes we’ve had in the schedule.2 I worked very hard on training them in combination with Druhm, and it’s fair to say we were both happy with the result. We had some of our best candidates to date, and that made me proud and happy. There’s still room for a few more, so we might dig into the pool in the early part of 2026. So if you applied, all hope is not lost. We continue to attract around 1.25 million views a month, and that’s held steady for three years running. Obviously, we would like to continue to grow. But I have a sneaking suspicion that we’re actually seeing a slight downturn in visitors because of Generative AI. There are, of course, a lot of people who go to Google and write “My Favorite Band – New Album Review,” and they will be greeted by an AngryMetalGuy.com link that tends to place pretty highly on the Google Machine and awaits their complaints with open arms. But I suspect there are other kinds of views we’ve accrued – those which end up in people grabbing album art or looking for release dates – that disappear when people are requesting that ChatGPT do that for them. And while LLMs will link you after plagiarizing you, they’ll only do it if you let them, and we do not. And so any conversions of people checking linked resources are probably lost.3 There have been some weird months here and there with seemingly anomalously low numbers, so who even knows.
The active n00bs have allowed us to revive the three-posts-a-day pace,4 and we only went dark for five days during 2025. As a collective, we posted 699 posts—down from the very peak of 2019’s nearly 1,000 posts!—but in line with where we’ve been since Covid. And, our posts continue to be longer than they were in 2019, averaging 901 words for a total of 629,905 words that we produced for free in 2025. That’s a 2600-page term paper—Times New Roman, 12 point font, double-spaced on A4 paper.5 This dedication to quantity derives from the whip of an analytics-driven Steel Druhm, but wouldn’t be possible without our amazing staff putting their shoulders to the Eternal Boulder ov Metal™ and rolling it uphill every day, saying “One must imagine Sisyphus happy. One must imagine Sisyphus happy. One must imagine Sisyphus happy.”
We continue to have international appeal, as well, though the country rankings haven’t changed much from 2024. Like last year, our top five is made up of the English-speaking world (US, UK, CAN, AUS at five) + Germany (at four).6 Weirdly, we are getting a sizable amount of traffic from China, which clocks in at six for the first time. There are almost certainly shenanigans at play with those numbers, as I am not aware of any influx of Chinese fans here recently. Maybe that’s AI traffic. Maybe that’s VPN traffic. Maybe we’ve been infiltrated and are now a communist honey pot. Maybe Druhm is buying traffic. Or, maybe, Winnie the Pooh has finally discovered how excellent the realm of heavy metal really is, and China is going through a different kind of cultural revolution! Regardless, 7-10 is made up of the Netherlands, Sweden, Poland, and France, with Spain and Finland dropping out of the top ten. The biggest news, however, when it comes to our international readership, is that signs point strongly to Pope Francis having been our solitary reader in the Holy See. The venerable Franciscan passed away in April of 2025, and I don’t believe it’s a coincidence that no one appears to have made the pilgrimage from the Vatican to Angry Metal Guy this year.
It’s worth noting that we lost more than a few stalwarts along the way in 2025,7 largely due to the #Cursed-Boomer-Posting chat on Slack, which has torn us apart. There may also have been some other influences, such as marriages, having high-paying jobs, running TV shows, having actual lives, or resenting me.8 Regardless, for all those who have worked hard to make AngryMetalGuy.com go, but who are not here with us anymore, I just want to say thank you. Despite my autistic isolation and standoffishness, I do love you all and miss you. The door is, of course, always open. And I am happy to see some special little guys who’ve been in deep freeze popping their heads out of the sand and grabbing promo. It’s a wonderful sight to behold, and maybe we’ll see some newfound productivity from old friends in 2026.
To close, I want to thank everyone – readers and writers alike – for your enthusiasm, your dedication to AngryMetalGuy.com as an institution, and your undying fealty to me, Angry Metal Guy.9 I know I can come off as harsh. And I know that some people grumble that I’m too hard on them when I read their texts or when they have divergent opinions in the comments, but that’s only true if you’ve never met a passive construction you didn’t love or if you’re wrong about metal. And, as I tell my students, we’re a team. Our goal is to make sure that AMG produces the very highest quality writing, while covering as much of the scene as possible.10 And given the loyalty of our readers, your comments, and “the eye test,” as it were, we are achieving that goal consistently. I’m still very proud of that and, if I stop to think about it, humbled by it, too.
While it feels like there’s a lot to dread after the 2025 that was, we still have a lot to be excited about here. So let’s hope that 2026 isn’t all like it’s felt in the first five days or so. Anyway, I have gone on far too long, have a wordy, overwrought list.
#(ish) 3: Helms Deep // Chasing the Dragon [June 20th, 2025 | Nameless Grave Records | Bandcamp] — Chasing the Dragon is super fun. It’s fun, it’s loud, and it’s a little stupid in a way that I find endearing. And, as I remarked in June, while US Power Metal has been getting a lot of love around these parts, Helms Deep has not been on the receiving end of nearly enough of that love. While other bands showed up to a back alley knife fight, these Florida men showed up with a bejet-packed dragon and a collection of songs that burned hotter than dragonsfire, melting the competition down and shaming their lineages for decades to come. And joking hyperbole aside, Helms Deep doesn’t feel like a novelty act. They aren’t just good ’cause I find them funny. Chasing the Dragon features playing that’s sharp and vital across the board, with guitars that never stand still, a singer who sells every chorus with the right balance of chops, cheese, and buckets of swagger. Said differently, Helms Deep is just dudes playing good, honest heavy metal while having a great time. What more do you need?
#(ish) 2: Vittra // Intense Indifference [September 19th, 2025 | Self-release | Bandcamp] — Vittra’s Intense Indifference shows up hungry, plays fast, hits hard, and gets out before you have time to get bored. Thirty-three minutes of riff-first, bethrashened melodeath go by in a blur; the hooks are sticky, the harmonies are sharp, and the energy is manic and adventurous. While the At the Gates lineage is obvious,11 Vittra pulls in enough Soilwork polish and Mors Principium Est flash to songwriting that’s focused on momentum rather than atmosphere, and the result is addictive. And what really pushes this record from really good to great are the flashes of the unexpected: honkytonk piano, bluesy acoustic passages, and classic rock phrasing that shouldn’t work, but does. It’s great listening to an album this full of piss and vinegar. I get excited when bands pop up that make the kind of thrashy, intense melodic death that never begs for an Insomnium comp. And sure, these guys have room to grow, but Intense Indifference caused me to feel anything but.
#(ish) 1: Arjen Anthony Lucassen // Songs No One Will Hear [September 12th, 2025 | InsideOut Music | Bandcamp] — Arjen Lucassen has been a favorite of mine during the time that AngryMetalGuy.com has been up and running. The “poofy-haired cheesehead”12 behind many of my favorite albums during AMG’s time is still a gem even in 2025. Crazily, Arjen’s first ‘solo record’ Lost in the New Real was released in 2012,13 and Songs No One Will Hear is its direct successor. A true concept record—with Toehider’s god-tier singer, Michael Mills, voicing a radio DJ talking to listeners about impending doom—it reflects both our End Is Nigh Zeitgeist and Arjen’s particular… idiom. Thoroughly enjoyable from start to finish, Songs No One Will Hear is both tongue-in-cheek and yet deeply aware of the nature of information, grifting, and societal collapse, while still displaying the kind of referential goofiness that made Lost in the New Real such a charming record.14 The thing that dinged Songs No One Will Hear a little for me is the sense of uncanny familiarity. At times, it sounds like Arjen was working specifically to emulate the structure of Lost in the New Real. That created a bit of cognitive dissonance that I have never quite gotten over. It also drove a lot of replays of its under-the-radar predecessor rather than the album I should have been reviewing. But is Songs one of the best 11 records o’ 2025? I certainly think so.
#10: An Abstract Illusion // The Sleeping City [October 17th, 2025 | Willowtip | Bandcamp] — The Sleeping City had two strikes against it. First, it had the unenviable task of following Woe, a record that could easily have been the template on which they built their sound. It’s hard to break away from an overwhelmingly popular sound, yet these Ore Islanders took a left turn, exhibiting a level of daring I admire. The shift in aesthetic is the story of The Sleeping City in a lot of ways; the synths, the vibe, and the mood lean into dystopian sci-fi, and it’s a choice that works. What I love about The Sleeping City is that it’s detailed and detail-oriented without distracting from the expansiveness of the songwriting, which remains evocative and carefully structured. And while they sound comfortable letting songs breathe, they never get lost in the quest for “atmosphere” that undermines many modern releases. Second,15 the real gripe about The Sleeping City was the mastering job. But even a mastering job that clips peaks and fills valleys shows just how strong the raw material is. And so, finally, The Sleeping City feels like the product of a band choosing growth over safety while being true to themselves. And that’s an admirable trait that I hope they never lose.
#9: Fallujah // Xenotaph [June 13th, 2025 | Nuclear Blast Records | Bandcamp] — Fallujah landing on my list came as a genuine surprise to me, mostly because I really had quietly written them off. I used to like them, but they never carried that In Flames-style of eternal hope for me. Xenotaph pulled me back in by doing a deceptively simple thing: reintroducing attack. Everything about this record feels more immediate; guitars cut, compositions move with purpose, and songs are taut and sharp. The atmospheric elements remain, but they’re now integrated into something heavier and more immediate. I love the balance Fallujah finds, combining that late-Cynic energy with the aggression of brutal and technical death. And the deeper I got, the more Xenotaph rewarded me. Repetition revealed interlinked ideas and layered guitar work that shoots like a web throughout, creating a sinuous structure on which everything rests. As I wrote in my Record o’ the Month blurb, “Fallujah has achieved a conceptual evolution on Xenotaph that feels true to their origins and yet develops their sound in ways that make it accessible, and yet, truly unique.” It isn’t exactly br00tal death metal, but it’s not so drenched in “atmosphere” that it lacks tension. Most importantly, it worked.
#8: Scardust // Souls [July 18th, 2025 | Frontiers Records | Stream or Buy at Qobuz] — Scardust landing at number eight sans review is another casualty of my 2025 Stack o’ Shame, though this was less neglect than simple overextension in a year where too many heavy hitters landed at once. July, yo, what a month. Unfortunately, I missed the review window, then I missed the window to pawn it off responsibly, and by the time I circled back, it was late. However, Scardust’s third full-length is a sharp, confident 42 minutes of symphonic power/prog that feels fully aware and unique. While it doesn’t quite lock together as tightly as Strangers did at a conceptual and compositional level, Souls more than compensates for that with sheer craft. The orchestral and choral arrangements are some of the strongest I heard all year, and Scardust’s chemistry is ridonkulous. The rhythm section especially deserves accolades, with basswork that should be forcing its way into “best of” conversations. As a band, Scardust exists in the interstices of genre, where comparisons kind of work but can’t capture their unique voice. And while the band is impressive, the compositions feel so coherent because of Noa Gruman, who carries the album with control, range, and an incomparable soprano. Her extreme register (that is, growls) stays mostly holstered here, but her presence—and sheer talent—is on constant display, balancing different styles, moods, and feels. And her vocal performance isn’t the only standout vocal performance on Souls. The closing “Touch of Life” trilogy finds Ross Jennings (Haken) popping up in full “weird Ross” mode, which ends up as the cherry on top. The result is smart, muscular, and memorable; an album I’m ashamed to have missed.
#7: Aephanemer // Utopie [October 31st, 2025 | Napalm Records | Bandcamp] — Aephanemer’s Utopie landed, as I mentioned in my Record o’ the Month blurb, squarely at the top of my Stack o’ Shame. I was honored to be able to get access to this and start listening early, and I was immediately impressed. Yet, I got sick. Darkness took me, and I strayed out of thought and time, and stars wheeled overhead, and every day was as long as the life age of the earth. Meanwhile, Utopie sat there reminding me of my failures until Grin Reaper saved my ass and gave Aephanemer’s newest opus the unhinged tongue bath it so rightfully deserved. Utopie takes everything these French melodic death metallers have been doing over the past couple of albums and tightens the screws until the whole machine purrs with confidence. The neoclassical elements have become a perfect blend that helps everything work perfectly. Utopie flows; songs connect, ideas develop, momentum carries everything forward, and yet Aephanemer does not sacrifice the immediacy and energy that makes melodic death metal such a fine dopamine mine. While I haven’t sat down and learned the parts, I feel like the guitars are more fluid and more expressive, resulting in special melodies propelled by a buoyancy reflected in the theme. And you know me, what I want from great records is a holistic sense of greatness. Happily, Aephanemer accomplishes just that on Utopie. Had I been operating at full capacity when it dropped, I would have written a review that kids would call “extra.”16
#6: Insania // The Great Apocalypse [June 13th, 2025 | Frontiers Music | Stream or Buy on Qobuz] — The Great Apocalypse, contrary to its name, is sneaky. It doesn’t gallop in and smack you in the face with shock or novelty, but instead, it reveals its strength through confidence, craft, and an almost unfair level of replay value. What initially feels like—and has been so often written off as—a solid, familiar Europower record gradually opens up to be something richer and more rewarding. And it’s kept paying dividends the longer I’ve been sitting with it. Insania sounds, as I noted when I wrote the review, like a band fully aware of their lineage and completely at ease with it. But the truly confident understand themselves enough to think differently. The resulting record is full of massive, sticky hooks, choruses that hit with power metal optimism and momentum, and electrifying guitars throughout. In fact, while investigating their discography, I was struck by how much Insania upped their game on The Great Apocalypse. And key to that is the guitar, which elevates the record by resisting predictability and yet coexisting on a meta-level with the genre that they know so well. Songs evolve instead of looping, melodies get reshaped rather than repeated, and familiar ideas or tropes are nudged just enough off-center to stay engaging but familiar. The Great Apocalypse approaches with intention, and Insania performs like a band that’s rediscovering why they love playing this kind of music in the first place. This record is exhilarating, memorable, and deeply satisfying, which is why it belongs among these other great releases.
#5: Kalaveraztekah // Nikan Axkan [May 2nd, 2025 | Self-release | Bandcamp] — In what I’m pretty sure is a first for me, an Ünsïgnëd Bänd Rödëö contestant has made my Top Ten(ish) list. I’ve had plenty of unsigned bands on my lists, but I walked into Kalaveraztekah’s masterful Nikan Axkan utterly unprepared for what I would find. Like a kid buying music in the ’90s, I just looked at that amazing cover art and decided that I was going to join the team reviewing this record instead of the other one. And that twist of fate has earned Mexico’s finest Aztec-themed death metal band a spot on the End o’ Year Metal List o’ Record™.17 As I cleverly wrote in my Record o’ the Month blurb: “There’s no sense that these Hidrocálidos are some kind of novelty act. They aren’t a Mexican Eluveitie, just playing Dark Tranquillity riffs while putting a Ritual Death Flute over it for 40 seconds in every song.”18 Rather, Nikan Axkan is chock full of muscular riffing and the kind of grindy death metal that I’ve always associated with the Mexican scene. Combined with a high-concept connecting to Mexican pre-history and the judicious use of a fucking death flute, I just never quit listening to Nikan Axkan.19 And so here they are, in the Top 5 of my Top 10(ish) of 2025,20 and it couldn’t be more deserved.
#4: Impureza // Alcázares [July 11th, 2025 | Season of Mist | Bandcamp] — I admit, I have tried to lead by example. I have attempted to become a servant leader. Rather than eating up a ton of oxygen and making everything actually about me (instead of just in jest) and what I want as Angry Metal Guy, I have, with time and wisdom, tried to allow others a chance to spread their wings. One of the things that means is that I can’t just bogart other writers’ “discoveries,” and I try not to block them if they grab something before I do.21 So, in that context, you’ll understand that I got pretty excited when I realized that I could review the newest Impureza without poaching it. The band’s approach to metal—infused with flamenco and semi-fantastical alternate-historical high concepts about colonial history—had entranced me previously, but I always felt like they were leaving a lot on the table. Their sound had not quite blended the flamenco and the metal, but rather, the genres sat side by side. Alcázares changes that. From start to finish, Alcázares is addictive, creative, musically impressive, and just a lot of fun. The artful ability of these Orléanais-via-España to marry such disparate styles with genuinely unique approaches to music that run as deeply as the very notion of meter is one of the most impressive feats accomplished in metal in 2025. But it’s not just a meta-concern of the artistic feat that excites me. Alcázares is a fucking banger that can stimulate your intellect, or that can leave your neck sore. Take your pick!22
#3: Phantom Spell // Heather & Hearth [July 18th, 2025 | Cruz del Sur Music | Bandcamp] — Phantom Spell has the benefit of being a genuine surprise. My happy place, when I can afford to be there, is digging through the promo bin and listening to everything I can get my hands on. I have made so many fantastic discoveries there, just immersed in my own little world, listening to samples to get a feel of what we’re being sent. Heather & Hearth looked like classic Steel Druhmcore: Cruz del Sur Records, retro metal, D&D Basic Set art. I popped it in, got dragged in, and totally distracted from the rest of what I was doing. I know that this might seem incongruent, but Heather & Hearth sounds fresh. In a world of hypercompressed, hyper-reamped, extremer-than-thou metal, the act of writing good songs with tons of vocal harmonies, instruments that sit in their sonic corridors, and—despite being recorded by one single dude—a convincingly live vibe feels “like a radical act.”23 I quickly grew to love Heather & Hearth, shared it with all the normies I know who love Ghost (“Isn’t this so much better?”), and began singing its praises. And I’ve been happy to see it popping up on lists throughout list season. It means a lot to me that people can hear just how good Phantom Spell is. And Phantom Spell also proved to be quite generative, in that I wrote the Spotify post as a response to a discussion about why Heather & Hearth wasn’t available there. Easily one of the best records I heard in 2025, and I’m looking forward to hearing so much more.
#2: In Mourning // The Immortal [August 29th, 2025 | Supreme Chaos Records | Bandcamp] — When a record is truly exceptional, the hardest part is often articulating why it has transcended other things without reducing it to a checklist. In Mourning’s fantastic The Immortal resists that kind of accounting in the best possible way. Its melodies are lush and emotionally evocative, capable of landing with equal force whether they’re carried by aching vocals or unfurled through long, expansive, yet intimate, trem-picked guitar passages. The riffing is punishing but disciplined, balancing weighty chug with sharper, blackened melodies, creating a constant tension between death metal heft and sadboi atmosphere without fully committing to drowning the production in reverb. And yet, none of this marks a radical departure from what In Mourning has done before—has been doing since 2008. The crucial difference here is in execution: every compositional choice seems to land exactly where it should be. In a sense, this calls attention to the role of probability, as much as inspiration or songcraft, in composition. Some records feel blessed from the outset, where one can go through the same process again and never produce the same results. The hooks here stick without feeling forced, climaxes are perfectly placed, and the pacing across the record gives each track room to breathe while contributing to the kind of flow reserved for only the best albums. Even moments that might feel familiar hit differently on The Immortal, like everything snaps into place. The Immortal succeeds, then, not just on craft but on feel: it feels heavier, sadder, and more resonant than its predecessors; and it stands comfortably among the strongest melodic death metal releases in years.
#1: Calva Louise // Edge of the Abyss [July 11th, 2025 | Mascot Records | Bandcamp] — Edge of the Abyss ran away with my listening this year in a way I genuinely don’t remember happening before, and that probably tells you most of what you need to know. The record is frantic, restless, and overloaded with ideas, moving between genres and feels with the speed of fast-cut editing; shifting at the drop of a dime. That both makes the record fun to listen to and keeps it surprising and fresh even after dozens of listens. The pace and density line up uncannily well with where my own brain tends to live, and I suspect that’s a part of why it lodged itself so firmly in my rotation. Calva Louise writes songs that feel driven by impulse and curiosity rather than caution or genre boundaries, and that creative energy and freedom are contagious. Jess Allanic’s pop instincts and melodic sense anchor the chaos, lending the lighter passages real emotional weight and memorability, rather than merely serving as connective tissue. Edge of the Abyss’s incorporation of Latin rhythmic elements and melodic sensibilities ended up also being a personal bonus; Latin music has been a refuge for me from musical monotony for years, and hearing them integrated naturally into Edge of the Abyss was exciting, and it generated affection for this wayward Venezuelan and her French and English bandmates. What really sealed the deal for me, though, was how committed the band sounds to its vision. The songwriting is ambitious and fun, but it doesn’t feel scattered. The album has a cinematic feel – complemented by literally cinematic music videos – but doesn’t feel bloated or melodramatic. And Calva Louise sports a swagger unique to bands who are just doing exactly what they want to be doing. Since July, I’ve kept coming back to Edge of the Abyss and forgetting I had even enjoyed other records this year. There’s a real sense of becoming here; of a band pulling its influences together into something that feels unique. And I also feel invested in Calva Louise in a way I haven’t been with many bands. I really am so happy to see them growing and succeeding. I love seeing them landing on people’s lists here and elsewhere. They have so much potential, and I am so eager to see what they do next. But should the worst befall them, I’ll always have Edge of the Abyss, and it already feels like an all-timer.
Honorable Mentions
Sarastus // Agony Eternal [July 1st, 2025 | Dominance of Darkness Records | Bandcamp] — Stolen from me by one Kenstrosity, Sarastus was a joyous discovery by me in the depths of the promo bin. One part black metal with a touch of death n’ roll for vibes, Agony Eternal strikes hard at modern conventions of black metal and sounds fresh by playing fast, unapologetic, engaging music with razor-sharp riffs. Melodic, without being sickly sweet or cheesy, with a ton of attack and great songwriting chops, Sarastus really threads the needle on Agony Eternal, making something that is driven and addictive, but undeniably black metal.
Wytch Hazel // V: Lamentations [July 4th, 2025 | Bad Omen | Bandcamp] — I’ve been back and forth with Wytch Hazel in the past. I have enjoyed what they do, but in the past I’ve been more skeptical of specifically nostalgiacore records that don’t feel like they’re adding much “new.” First, I think I’m just getting past that problem, as the “new” in metal is emphasizing things I don’t love about the scene. But second, I think V: Lamentations is just a more engaging record. From the word ‘go,’ Wytch Hazel writes with a kind of urgency that gives their brand of ’70s-tinged metal an extra kick, and the energy sits so well with me. Maybe the songwriting is just a bit tighter, maybe it’s faster, I don’t know—I didn’t write the proper review. All I know is that I keep circling back to Lamentations in a way that I haven’t done as much with their earlier albums. And that made it easy to put in the running for Listurnalia and to give my personal Angry Stamp o’ Approval™.
Mors Principium Est // Darkness Invisible [September 26th, 2025 | Perception/Reigning Phoenix Music | Stream or Buy on Qobuz] — Probably the grower of the year, Darkness Invisible surprised me by sticking around. When I started reviewing it, I expected not to like it much. I had been a big fan of the band’s previous output and of their former guitarist’s solo record from last year. But with familiarity—and time spent dissecting it—I became increasingly impressed with the album. While the production is busy and pulls it down, the writing forges a new path that better represents the vision of MPE’s founding member, Ville Viljanen. And that vision is bleak, blackened, and surprisingly sticky. No matter your opinion on the end of the previous incarnation, Darkness Invisible at least demonstrates that there is still a vital future for Finland’s most underrated melodic death metal powerhouse. And that’s a future to which I look forward.
Blackbraid // Blackbraid III [August 8th, 2025 | Self-release | Bandcamp] — I have a Gollumesque distaste for modern black metal. I am physically incapable of starting a review or blurb of a black metal band without reminding readers how much I hate “atmosphere” in the post-Cascadian black metal era. “Give it to us raw and wriggling!” I growl at all the fat hobbitses who try to feed me empty, overcooked “atmosphere.” Blackbraid doesn’t want to feed me atmosphere. Instead, Blackbraid’s III trembles with a vibe that brings me back to discovering black metal; at times blistering, at times introspective, but rarely overstaying its welcome and never feeling like its primary goal is to be the band that defanged black metal for good to make it okay to listen to for kids in the suburbs. I’ll be listening to III for a long time.
Tómarúm // Beyond Obsidian Euphoria — This record is too long. It’s got too much hype among the staff. And also, it’s too damned good to be an honorable mention. And yet, there are only so many #(ish)es, and I got to Beyond Obsidian Eurphoria too late to really give it the kind of sustained love that it needs to properly list. Still, once I started listening, I’ve been swinging past it every day. Sometimes twice. The songwriting is a bit wandering, the album is a bit overwhelming, and yet there is an undeniable vibe that Tómarúm traffics in, and that’s sneakily sticky. Combine that techy Death with something akin to Disillusion, and maybe you’ve got your comp. The only complaint I have is that some of the melodies end up intentionally arch in a way that makes me think that they are actively trying not to give the ear something to latch onto. That’s dumb, but it’s also very 2025. And hey, at least there’s a really easy trick for them to sell out with.
…and Oceans // The Regeneration Itinerary [May 23rd, 2025 | Season of Mist | Bandcamp] —The Regeneration Itinerary was a lot more controversial among fans than I expected, but I really enjoyed it. As I wrote in May, “It’s always fun to watch bands defy Angry Metal Guy’s Law of Diminishing Recordings™, and while The Regeneration Itinerary isn’t their best record yet, 30 years after their debut, …and Oceans is still releasing vital music that’s impossible to overlook.” And that’s just true facts as stated by a metal-knower. While not quite the tour de force of its predecessors, this record is a solid bit of weirdo black metal with some of the best art in the biz. I recommend it highly.
Haxprocess24 // Beyond What Eyes Can See [July 25th, 2025 | Transcending Obscurity Records | Bandcamp] — Four songs, three of which are over 10 minutes long, and a combo of what I’d call post-Opeth songwriting with OSDM aesthetics, Beyond What Eyes Can See deserved more attention this year and ended up, instead, on my Stack o’ Shame™. This isn’t a reflection on them; they play vital death metal and deserve accolades for their expansive vision and the way everything flows. They just got eaten up by the July where everything got released. Sorry, boys, but here’s your fig leaf!
Majestica // Power Train [February 7th, 2025 | Nuclear Blast Records | Stream or Buy at Qobuz] — Back in like 2008, I saw a band called ReinXeed play a whole bunch of covers of Swedish dance/electronica “group” E-Type at a Culture Night in Umeå. I remember hearing from people in the local scene that they were “big in Japan,” and I listened to some stuff, but wasn’t super moved by it at the time. In 2019, ReinXeed changed their name to Majestica and got signed to Nuclear Blast. And damnit if they aren’t just a lot better than they were in 2008. Power Train, which is on our collective Stack o’ Shame™, is the band’s third full-length under the moniker, and it rocks the same kind of sickly sweet melodies, guitar gymnastics, and general sense of fun that makes power metal my go-to genre a lot of days. While not quite as sticky and addictive as some other things higher up the list, Power Train was a solid addition to the band’s discography and one of the better power records I heard this year. You’ve come a long way, baby!
Dormant Ordeal // Tooth and Nail [April 18th, 2025 | Willowtip Records | Bandcamp] — While not as high on this record as others on the staff, Dormant Ordeal is undeniably vital. And I’m just never going to write a better blurb than I did when they got Record o’ the Month for April: “This record hits a sweet spot inside of me, best described as the ‘oh yeah, that’s how death metal is done’ spot. The riffs flow, and my brain just opens up the spigots, releasing a veritable tsunami of dopamine. Every riff that cuts, every transition that seethes, and every recognition of the slick, skilled ways that these guys construct songs, I get a nice big kick of that Happy Chemical. Tooth and Nail is dynamic, punishing, aggressive, and better yet, it’s smart.” Man, that guy can write!
Aversed // Erasure of Color [March 25th, 2025 | M-Theory Audio | Bandcamp] — Last, and I guess technically least – but that isn’t taking into account that there were like 10,000 albums released in 2025 and there are only like 25 on this list – is Aversed’s Erasure of Color. Part of the reason for its late arrival is that, despite being our Record o’ the Month for March, Erasure of Color didn’t actually make it onto my personal playlist until quite a bit later. And damn, that was kind of a big miss on my part. Great melodeath with a unique flavor and great intensity; there’s something thoughtful and sharp about this record. Combine that with excellent album art and the Dolphin Whisperer seal of approval, and Erasure of Color has everything fans of melodeath need to carry them through this wasteland. I will need to keep my eyes on Aversed going forward.
#AndOceans #2025 #Aephanemer #AnAbstractIllusion #AngryMetalGuy #AngryMetalGuySTop10Ish #ArjenLucassen #Aversed #Blackbraid #CalvaLouise #ChasingTheDragon #DormantOrdeal #EdgeOfTheAbyss #Fallujah #Haxprocess #HelmsDeep #Impureza #InMourning #Insania #IntenseIndifference #Kalaveraztekah #Majestica #MorsPrincipiumEst #PhantomSpell #Sarastus #Scardust #Tómarúm #Vittra #WytchHazel -
Battle for the Ballot: Best Dramatic Presentation 2026
The two Best Dramatic Presentation categories are among my favourites in the Hugos, because I consume a lot of SFF media and have a lot of thoughts and feelings about them. Since my post last year about why I had wanted Loki S2 to win a Hugo in 2024 (which I was working on for a while but ended up not posting it in time for it to sway anyone), I’ve been toying with the idea of producing more writing around some of my favourite things from each year, in case it helps anybody—least of all me, in getting it all out of my system.
I know I’m posting this with one day to go before nominations (these take so long for me! I must develop a better system for next year 🤔), but I’m really writing this to sound out my own thoughts about the DP categories this year, because it is absolutely bananas with how stacked they both are. There have been some truly great speculative television shows and films, stuff that I’m sure we’ll still be talking about for years to come, and making decisions to boil my favourite media down to just 5 per category—especially given the fiddliness of Long Form and Short Form where TV is concerned, which I’ll get to in a sec—is going to be excruciatingly difficult for me.
So come along on a journey with me as I parse my thoughts, and who knows! Maybe I’ll argue my way to your heart about some of this, or tell you about something you hadn’t heard of before—some of which I’ve already written about before, but I’m getting ahead of myself!
Let me know what your ballot looks like, and if you’re nominating any of the below shows, films, and other dramatic works, or if you’re including other things entirely. I’m curious!
TV series and the Long Form/Short Form debate
A big question for many fen every year is “do I nominate one episode from a TV series that stands on its own or that adequately represents the show in Short Form, or do I nominate the whole season in Long Form because it’s one complete narrative, and isolating one chapter of it would be unfair?”
Understandably, it’s a tough one; when a show inevitably gets votes in both categories, it can lead to headaches for the Hugo Administrating Team as they have to sift through the numbers and ultimately decide which category it should be nominated in1, which I don’t envy at all. But at the same time, as a voter, I have to go with what my heart says and name my favourite episodes in Short Form, regardless of whether I’ve also named the show/season as a whole in Long Form, because if enough others have put that same episode down, then that’s what’ll make it through to the shortlist, and I would want my vote to count towards those totals.
All that to say: if you expected a clear stance from me on this, HA! I’m afraid I don’t have one 😇—and to be perfectly honest, this is exactly the sort of thing where people’s mileage will vary the most.
My personal method of deciding whether to nominate entire TV seasons rather than one specific episode is purely based on ~vibes~, on whether or not I thought the season works better in its totality than through its individual parts, versus cases where one outstanding episode eclipses all the others for me. Not all shows are written the same, of course, and those that favour a longer narrative arc (as a lot of prestige TV does nowadays) tend to find their way on my long form ballot more often than not, as opposed to the more episodic writing that isn’t as popular now but used to be ubiquitous in the pre-streaming era.
Ultimately, you may agree or disagree with me on my reasoning for some of my choices below, whether on the LF/SF question or my actual opinions of the various media, and that’s fair enough. I welcome discussion in the comments, but please keep it civil!
Jump to:
- Long Form: Entire TV Seasons
- Long Form: Films
- Long Form: Non-Film/TV
- Short Form: TV Episodes
- Short Form: Non-TV
Long Form: Entire TV Seasons
You might see episodes from some of these further down in the episode/short form discussion.
Andor, Season 2+
This is kind of my front-runner among the TV seasons for the Long Form category. Overall, I enjoyed it slightly more than season 1 for a few reasons: first of all, the pacing was much more even, with a little bit more action and intrigue peppered throughout the season as opposed to having several quieter mini-arcs that slowed things down in places; and crucially, there was a lot less dithering from Cassian Andor, our reluctant protagonist, who finally comes into his own as a rebel after being passively tossed about this way and that in the first season. The agency he has in this one makes him much more interesting as a character, and brings him on the same level as other players in the budding rebellion front, like Mon Mothma and Luthen Rael. In fact, with all the different character arcs completed, Andor finally becomes what Rogue One always wanted to be: a testament to the great sacrifices necessary for revolution to take root.
I liked a lot of what went down in this season as tensions continued ramping up between the Empire and the Rebellion; the Ghorman subplot was outstanding, especially with Dedra and Cyril’s journeys as instruments of Imperial oppression and violence, as was Mon Mothma’s arc from quiet resistance financier to full-on political rebel on the run, with her heartbreaking arc where she realises the personal cost of rebellion. None of the individual episodes in season 2 came even close to the intensity or narrative brilliance of One Way Out, which was hands down my favourite episode of season 1, but that’s okay—I think this season works so much better in its totality, that I’ll be happy to nominate it wholesale.
I still need to re-watch Rogue One actually, to see if my (very mid) opinion on it changes at all, but ultimately I’m just really happy this show was made, and that it looked and felt amazing throughout. It’s probably my favourite Star Wars story, period, and I am so chuffed that so much of it was filmed in the UK (in locations I know and visit all the time, including my old workplace!2), and is full of incredibly talented and classically trained British theatre actors who fill the space with their physicality and make their performances memorable even in the smallest of roles3.
Severance, Season 2+
Another really strong contender for this category. If you ask me which TV show might win the LF Hugo between this, Andor, or Pluribus, my money would probably be on Severance, even if I personally prefer Andor thematically and Pluribus cinematically. There’s no doubt Severance is an absolute masterpiece of television—nay, of cinema—and the fact that the most anti-capitalist story of our time is coming directly from the big tech megacorp Apple is an irony that is as delicious as it is hilarious.
Aside from its bonkers world-building (which still has so many unanswered questions!), this season of Severance also dove pretty deep into its characters, whom we only got to know a bit in season 1. I don’t want to get too spoilery here, but there’s a handful of moments in this season that go SO HARD—particularly that one slow episode that everyone else hated for some reason, where we follow Patricia Arquette’s character as she goes to her dingy home town and fills us in on the cult lore around Lumon Industries, and of course the team building episode in which our intrepid heroes actually go outside, but it’s all weird in that trademark Lumon way where nothing really fully makes sense, and it leaves the viewer feeling uncomfortable, like something’s not quite aligned right.
But yeah, the world-building, man. It’s something else. I was glued to my screen and my mind was running a mile a minute trying to join the dots and figure out the answers to the show’s mysteries, much like our heroes consolidate memories refine macrodata—remember, the work is mysterious and important—and the excitement of getting it just before the show confirmed it was super fun. Yet, finally understanding what macrodata refinement is was actually a really tragic moment, and everything that happens after that made my heart break for the innies who are stuck living a half-life they can’t escape, on pain of death.
Ultimately, what I loved the most about the second season of Severance is its staunch anti-capitalist messaging that speaks to the average office worker today regardless of where they may be in the world, because corporate manipulation knows no borders:
- A job is a job, not a family.
- The company you work for does not deserve blind, cult-like loyalty.
- Your life is more than just work, and compartmentalising your work self and your out-of-work self might be a band-aid solution, but it doesn’t really work in the end.
- You are you, with all your complex layers of self, even if your corporate overlords (…or just your line manager 🤐) want you to think otherwise, or to act otherwise so you can fit into their office culture.
- Basically, it’s all dumb, and you deserve to live, not just to survive so you can punch your clock card and get meaningless little bonuses like finger traps or waffle parties.
This relatability is what keeps me hooked, and what I think elevates the show from pretty sci-fi to a classic of our times. It’s definitely got my vote.
Pluribus, Season 1+
God, talk about another cinematic masterpiece. When Breaking Bad/Better Call Saul‘s Vince Gilligan said he was working on a new show (which he was writing specifically for Rhea Seahorn to star in), I was crossing my fingers and my toes that it would be sci-fi, and Pluribus has completely blown my expectations out of the water. Not only does it mark Gilligan’s return to science fiction for the first time since The X-Files, but he brings his now-trademark cinematic visual language to it, full of tight choreography and nuanced subtext through visual and music cues, which is what made BB & BCS so special.
The result is an unnerving combination of horror, absurdist humour, and subtle world-building, centered around a complex character named Carol Sturka, who is one of only a few humans not to join the weird hive mind connection that takes over all other human beings on the planet, and doesn’t want to even entertain the idea. I’ve seen many reviews call her unlikable and unrelatable, and while the first part may be true (I was really tired of her contrarian nature in the first half of the season), I think there’s something more going on here than just a selfish white American woman who expects the world to move just for her.
The thing is, Vince Gilligan does not talk down to his audience; he expects us to keep up and to pick up what he’s putting down, whether that’s subtle digs at the publishing industry (it is truly hilarious to me that the protagonist of this show is an actual romantasy author!), not-so-subtle digs about community building and the harm humanity has done to the planet and to each other (particularly around resource distribution, iykyk), and questions about human nature that we are left to ponder: would you trade world peace for the complete flattening of human culture? Are we capable of retaining what makes us human while not actively harming the world around us, or each other? What is humanity, really, or human nature even?
Big stuff coming from an Apple TV show, once again; should I even be surprised at this point?
I think the long game of this show is going to be Carol’s character development from grumpy selfish miser to someone who genuinely cares about other people—a reverse Walter White, if you will. Gilligan is all about the narrative arc, and he has been known to deliver some of the best narrative arcs in TV ever, even if they take a while to stick the landing. I have faith that he is cooking something we haven’t even yet begun to poke at, if Better Call Saul is any indication, and between the already great writing and the show’s superlative production value, I think Pluribus is going to be a low-key modern classic. Vince has my vote, now and always.
My Hero Academia: The Final Season+
I wrote about this extensively in my Hugo ballot recommendations post a couple of months ago, so I’ll pull a quote from that as to why I loved it so much:
Y’all, what can I say: this has been my favourite anime of the last decade, and the fact it is ending has had me in my feelings for months. I’ve been deeply invested emotionally for many years, watching the simulcasts on the same day as the anime airs in Japan since around season 2, and this last season has been all payoff for almost ten years’ worth of story. Every Saturday from October 4th till December 13th, I tuned in and bawled my eyes out for 20 minutes straight, which for an anime aimed at teenage boys is an absolute feat. Defying every expectation, it stuck the landing for every little story beat, every subplot, and every theme set up over its ten year tenure perfectly, making it one of my absolute favourite stories in the superhero genre.
This is definitely one of those where context is essential, so I don’t think it can be viewed in a vacuum and appreciated to the same extent as having watched all previous seven seasons. You can try, but it wouldn’t be worth it just for the awards. Just watch the show so the ending can hit you like a ton of bricks in the best way possible, even if you miss the deadline. It’s fun, it’s moving, it’s made with so much love for American comics through a uniquely Japanese perspective. I can’t recommend it enough, and it’ll definitely be on my Long Form ballot even if I’m one of ten people who put it there 🤷🏻♀️
Honourable mentions/near misses+
- Silo, Season 2: It’s definitely not as tight as season 1, and it was missing some stuff from the books that may well turn up in season 3. For what it’s worth, there’s a lot I enjoyed about this season, but unfortunately it’s simply weaker when Rebecca Ferguson’s Juliette isn’t on screen, and there’s a lot of that unfortunately. I’m certainly looking forward to what season 3 will be adapting, and to see what format that will take, as I think they’re either condensing or axing the second half of book 2 to go straight to the dual narrative of book 3, which I have mixed feelings about.
- Murderbot: I never got into the books because of tonal whiplash (MB’s violence and misanthropy coated in dry humour just didn’t work for me), and while I thought the TV show was a little better in that regard, ultimately I thought the show was just okay. I didn’t actively dislike it, mind, but I watched most of it on a plane ride, didn’t finish it, and haven’t felt like picking it back up since. The story just doesn’t grab me, I think, and I never felt particularly attached to or compelled by any of the characters… and I’m okay with that 🤷🏻♀️. Not everything is for everyone! I expect it’ll be mass-nominated by all the book fans anyway based on the online discourse I’ve seen, so it won’t miss my vote.
- Invasion, Season 3: I didn’t even know this was out, lmao! I was deeply invested while watching seasons 1 and 2 (even though I disliked quite a few of the characters), but as soon as I was done with it I promptly forgot about it—and Apple TV didn’t even let me know that it was back on. Whomst can I shake until they fix the marketing situation over there?! Christ on a cracker!
- Stranger Things, Season 5: To my own surprise, I didn’t like this season nearly as much as season 4, let alone season 1, and so I will not be considering it for the Long Form category (including the last episode, which would qualify under Long Form on its own due to being 128 MINUTES LONG 🙄). It’s turned out to be one of those things where, while I enjoyed it a fair bit in the moment, the longer I think about it the more my feelings about it seem to change, and the ending has left me a bit… conflicted, shall we say. But it did have some great episodes in the middle especially, so I will consider a couple of them in the Short Form category.
Long Form: Films
Sinners+
This was probably my favourite SFF film of last year. Not only is it atmospheric, fun, and lush with cross-border folkloric world-building (Hoodoo magic and Irish vampires?! yes please!), but the story touches so many themes that a regular popcorn movie won’t even veer towards, and it does so brilliantly.
All the many layers of the Black and POC experience in the South during the Prohibition era (and beyond) are crystallised in the character arc of each ensemble cast member, with some absolutely outstanding performances by Hailee Steinfeld (whose character Mary is biracial, and torn between safety and belonging), Michael B. Jordan (who plays identical twins Smoke and Stack so well he walked away with an Oscar for it), and Wunmi Mosaku in particular as Smoke’s wife Annie (she’s such an underrated performer, but I’m so glad to see her actually flex her acting skills after her appearance in Loki). We’re talking themes like the push and pull of religion and its role in both keeping communities together and also oppressing them, the safety of BIPOC in a white supremacist society, and even the immigrant experience… the truth is your average blockbuster would never—but this is Ryan Coogler, and he won’t sugar-coat things for a mainstream audience, instead telling a story only he could tell, filled with truth, complexity, and nuance, something I really wish more filmmakers would embrace nowadays.
The film’s protagonist, Sammie (Miles Caton) has a preternatural gift with music, and the plot revolves around a juke joint Smoke and Stack put together, and the connection that music can create across time and even culture—with a wonderful supernatural twist.
One of my favourite moments is when the villain Remmick (an immortal Irish vampire played by Jack O’Connell) turns up at their juke joint and cries with joy at the emotions Sammie’s music has brought him after years of numbness. He talks about his own experience of colonialism at the hands of the British Empire and the subsequent erasure of Irish culture through the centuries, which is a very real thing—but he’s also a predator who has been making his way through the land trying to trap people and turn them into vampires, chased away by indigenous people who could tell he was a monster before attacking a couple who are Klan members. It’s clear that he doesn’t want Sammie’s music in order to connect people, but to use it as a tool on his quest to propagate a vampire race, and that seemingly sweet moment of connection is exposed as the performative allyship that it is.
There are some phenomenal action sequences too, with the last third of the film keeping me on the edge of my IMAX seat4. Genuinely, this film was such a breath of fresh air: delightfully complex but also fun, in ways that cinema just doesn’t dare to be right now. I was sad they didn’t win all the awards they were up for, but perhaps we can give it a Hugo instead.
Frankenstein+
©️ Netflix 2025I have a full review of this here, but basically: the SFF-ness of this is lush, as expected from a Guillermo Del Toro movie, and for the most part it works well as an adaptation of the book. As I mention in my other post, it doesn’t quite reach the heights of the NT’s theatre adaptation, which I still consider the ultimate version of this story, but it does similar things with the characters as Penny Dreadful, which is my runner-up favourite, save for the very end, and it’s that ending that makes the whole thing fall short for me, unfortunately.
To quote myself:
Why do we sing sad songs, when we know their ending is unhappy? When our instinctual yearning for a happy ending is met with the inevitability of human flaws getting in the way, that emotional release we experience is what my ancestors called catharsis. As the audience we accept that because of who these characters are, they would always make these choices and lead the story to the same outcome, time and again, even though we’d like them to change, to choose better, so they can be happy in the end.
What makes Frankenstein compelling in any iteration is its core conflict: Victor’s refusal to acknowledge the Creature as human, despite the fact that the Creature is deeply human, as much as his creator would like to think otherwise. We are invited to empathise with the Creature’s plight, to see how he thinks and feels, how he desires things we all do: safety, friendship, love. Victor is incapable of recognising this, and so the two clash eternally. Such is the tragedy, and no matter what minor changes are made to it, the good adaptations always recognise the impasse between the two at the end. It’s what makes the story tick.
My ultimate issue with the way Del Toro chose to end his adaptation of Frankenstein is that it ultimately robs us of our deserved catharsis by artificially resolving the incontrovertible stalemate between the two leads, giving us a happy(ish) ending in which Victor, at death’s door, forgives the Creature for the violence and destruction he’s wrought, apologises for what he did to him, and urges him to live on, free of guilt, yet completely alone. The Creature then walks off into the Arctic sunrise, liberated from his vendetta yet devastated at losing his creator.
It’s a lovely thought in principle, a Del Toro-ism about accepting one’s nature and walking away from one’s painful past, and if it were an original story without baggage I’d be all for it—after all, The Shape of Water had similar, pro-monster themes of letting go of trying to fit into a world that won’t accept you anyway, and I ate that up voraciously. But here, in taking a tragedy that is so classic and ingrained, loading it with a bunch of new traumas and subplots, and then resolving it all with a little monologue, the ending robs the story of its true conclusion, fundamentally missing the point of the source text, and doing a disservice both to Victor and the Creature.
I still think it’s a strong contender in the category, and definitely one of my favourite SFF movies I saw last year, despite my issues with it. However, given all my favourite TV shows above, I think I might eschew giving this one of my ballot spots, but I won’t be disappointed to see it on the final ballot, should it make it through.
Thunderbolts*+
I loved this movie A LOT, you guys, and it made me very sad that it flopped at the box office. I don’t blame people for being fatigued with Marvel’s mediocre superhero slop, but they should have given this movie a chance at the very least, because it might not have been the movie we wanted, but it was definitely the movie we needed right now.
(c) Disney/Marvel Studios, 2025I was very surprised with how deep it went into the trauma our various superheroes and anti-heroes have sustained through their previous adventures, and the level of empathy with which it treated them all:
- Yelena Belova, the last surviving Black Widow5, starts off depressed and morose, aimless, dissatisfied with running around and blowing things up for people with nothing to show for it except a path of destruction.
- Her and Natasha Romanoff’s father figure, Alexei Shostakov, is facing the music that his “Red Star” superhero persona is nothing but a figment of a bygone era, and is living a meagre life as a limo driver while reminiscing about his glory days.
- John Walker, the temporary Captain America replacement later dubbed “U.S. Agent”, is dealing with guilt after slaughtering innocent bystanders using Cap’s vibranium shield during the events of The Falcon and the Winter Soldier, all while struggling through early parenthood.
- The Winter Soldier—Bucky Barnes—is running for office, in an attempt to turn his newfound and shaky inner peace into something productive. Yet, something keeps niggling at him about the power vacuum left in the wake of the Avengers disappearing, and he can’t help but get involved in ways political candidates really shouldn’t. See: taking a huge machine gun and riding a motorbike out to the desert to find out who is behind these shenanigans. Tut tut, Mr Congressman.
- Oh, there’s also Ava Star/Ghost from Ant-Man and the Wasp, probably my least favourite Marvel movie to date, whom I completely forgot about before watching this movie and while writing this review. Oops! Her thing is that she is constantly phasing in and out of a solid existence, and she has to keep shouting about how traumatised she is with no need for subtext because they know we’ve all forgotten about her and need to be reminded of her struggles. Normally I’d be mad at that, but they are not wrong this time 😅
And then, there’s Bob.
(c) Disney/Marvel, 2025Bob is a new guy, recruited to be experimented on in hopes of becoming a superhero. He seems normal, average even, and he reluctantly joins our motley crew as they escape from a trap set by their employer—but under the surface he carries a deep wound, a gash that opens up to swallow him whole and turns him into The Void, his mysterious alter ego who awakens when Bob’s absolutely OTT superpowers kick in. The rest, as they say, is plot.
There’s a lot of (predictably dark) humour in this, and I was surprised with how much I liked these characters once they were given enough room to be protagonists, rather than minor antagonists in someone else’s story. While they haphazardly join forces into a makeshift team, their trauma is taken seriously, coalescing into the film’s climactic battle that pits the reluctant heroes against The Void, who weaponises each of their subconscious against them. The Void is Depression, by any other name—it’s the dark voice inside that tells each of our anti-heroes that they are worthless, unlovable, guilty, and alone. In order to beat him they have to reach out with empathy to themselves first and then to each other, and literally hold each other in a tight embrace as a reminder that they are not alone. What wins the day is friendship, empathy, and love, not unlike the last season of My Hero Academia, which I also loved last year, or Superman, which I’m about to get into below.
I cried BUCKETS while watching Thunderbolts* in the UK’s largest IMAX screen alongside my Bucky Barnes-obsessed friend, who has since made this film her entire personality (affectionate), and honestly, I’ve also been thinking about it ever since. Again, it’s a delightful little irony that the megalithic Disney/MCU would come out with a narrative so introspective and empathetic, especially at a time that loneliness and isolation is rampant among the film’s core audience of young men. I really hope that watching this film inspired people to reach out and be less alone in their struggles, and that the financial hit Disney took with it won’t keep us from seeing more of these characters in the future.
Also! A fun fact I noticed while listening to the soundtrack was that the film’s main theme is a reversed version of the main Avengers theme; just listen to the first few seconds of both themes and you’ll hear it:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8-Jzgp1jNiQ
Superman+
A good Superman movie?? In this economy?? Hallelujah!
I love a lot about what this film does with the core Superman premise. It gets Clark right, down to his farm boy roots and dorky kindness. It gets Superman right: his power isn’t unbeatable, and it isn’t even the most powerful thing about him (spoiler: it’s the dorky kindness). It gets Lex Luthor right—especially for our times—by having him be a smart but petty tech billionaire with an overinflated ego, someone who funds an invasion and even starts a pocket dimension on a whim, without once thinking of the consequences. It even gets Jimmy Olsen right simply by bringing him out of the margins where he’s been relegated for the last several Superman adaptations—and it’s actually really funny that he’s the one guy with the most game in this film, and that that’s how he gets to help out.
The structure of the film is an absolute delight, too. From the very start, we are thrown into the midst of a losing fight for Superman, which is a bold choice, as is having Clark’s relationship with Lois Lane already set up (and she even knows about him being Superman!). We don’t spend any time whatsoever on origin stories, budding relationship exploration, or long-winded exposition—we simply hit the ground running, and find out the particulars as we go along. It is assumed we know who Superman is, because… we all know who Superman is. And the themes around identity, responsibility, community, and how we should treat each other are laid bare without pretence, very directly speaking to the audience about contemporary problems we’re all facing day to day. It’s a genuine breath of fresh air not to be treated like an idiot, frankly.
There are a couple of things I don’t like about it though. For one, the film feels very busy, with so many characters and subplots and easter eggs thrown in, that if you blink you’ll definitely miss something. Relatedly, not all of those characters or subplots are treated equally, because there simply isn’t enough screen time to go around for everything. So the Justice Friends get the short shrift, as do Papa and Mama Kent, as does Krypton6, so that we can focus on the personal and political stakes that Clark/Superman has to overcome.
This is another superhero story with empathy at its heart, where the answer to even the most cosmic problems is… just be kind. Kindness is punk rock. As one of my favourite YouTube video essayists put it, this Superman is the American hero we desperately need right now. Someone who will stand up for what’s right even when the rest of the world tells him not to, someone with an unshakeable moral compass that only points to goodness. Watch that whole video actually, Dove does such a fantastic job analysing the cultural geography that plays into this film, and how it all ties together to bring us this ray of f*cking sunshine:
All this to say, I love that James Gunn can make a superhero movie that aims to appeal broadly but doesn’t feel like it panders to the lowest available denominator, and that he had the guts to (a) make the story feel relevant to our current times, what with all the invasions/”wars” going on right now that are purely happening for profit and that no one is doing anything to stop 🙄, and (b) leave us with a message of hope, that we can imagine a kinder world and that we can be the instruments of making that vision a reality. That kindness can be punk rock.
Dare I say, this was the movie that made me go, “huh, maybe the genre isn’t dead yet”, which… please, let it not be dead, I really like superheroes!
Honourable mentions/near misses+
- Mickey 17: I enjoyed this a lot, particularly for its world-building and Robert Pattinson’s performance. Unfortunately I think the Bong Joon-Ho-ness of it all kind of undercuts the story in favour of very on-the-nose political commentary, which was fun in the moment but in retrospect kinda leaves me a bit… “meh!”, probably because the current climate is so much worse than when this movie was made, and making fun of things/people just isn’t enough right now. So I don’t think this will be getting one of my spots, but it’s still totally worth seeing, if you haven’t!
- Fantastic Four – First Steps: I also enjoyed this a lot, especially in light of B-Mask’s excellent Fantastic Four video from a few years back which explained the classic comics and got me up to speed on the characters. It’s an honest-to-God decent, good Marvel movie, which as I keep saying is a rare sight these days, but that being said… I liked the stuff I talked about up top way more than this one, not to mention the TV seasons, so I just think it gets edged out by the competition.
- Hamnet: Technically an SFF movie! The trailer had me weeping, but the movie left me cold somehow, perhaps because it’s a little too obvious in its attempts to make people cry (Mark Kermode said it best! The bit with the song at the very end irked me too because I recognised it, and the moment was actually completely ruined for me.) It does have some wonderful and atmospheric visuals where it comes to the speculative aspect of it, and the soundtrack by Max Richter is predictably phenomenal (if only they’d used his original song for the climactic ending of the film!!), but it just didn’t move me in the ways I thought it would, so it’s a miss.
The “I haven’t seen these yet” caveat+
- K-Pop Demon Hunters: Yes, I know, somehow, I still haven’t seen this movie. I’m assuming it’ll get nominated to high heaven, so I’ll watch it ahead of voting, I promise.
- Weapons: I’ve heard fantastic things about this, and my husband is a big WKUK fan, so I might be watching this soon and revising my thoughts.
- Wicked: For Good: I liked the first film well enough, and I hear that a LOT happens in the second half of the musical, so I’m tentatively putting this on a hold list until I watch it. I don’t know if it would edge out any of my favourites, realistically speaking, but I suppose there is always room for surprises!
Long Form: Non-Film/TV
B-Mask’s “The REAL Thunderbolts Story: Marvel’s Greatest Scam“*
This is a 2.5 hour love letter to comics, and the first in a five-part series that tells the story of the real Thunderbolts from the comic books (a team that bears very little resemblance to the one portrayed in the recent MCU film discussed above). It features complex animations drawing from the original comic book art, as well as a full cast of voice actors bringing the characters to life with their performances.
* I’m personally torn on whether this would qualify for BDP-LF or BRW (seeing as it is technically a fanwork, and not an original work), but either way it is nothing short of a masterpiece—I wrote more about it in my 2025 underrated Hugo picks post, if you’re interested.
Short Form: TV Episodes
A caveat: my reasoning around nominating a particular episode is kind of like nominating my favourite chapter of a novel. Especially with how a lot of the prestige TV shows are made nowadays, individual episodes function as chapters in a longer story, so they have to be considered in the context of the wider narrative they’re a part of. If they are from a second, third, or even last season of a long-running show, even more so.
Also—and this might be a slightly spicy take—I personally don’t like that a lot of Hugo voters seem to only watch the individual episodes on the eventual shortlist without any context, and then complain that they didn’t get what was going on. That’s because context matters, and while I understand that it would take a lot of time to watch an entire season (or even several!) to be able to appreciate a single episode… if you want your vote to be informed, that’s the job, innit?
This has happened several times to me, where there’s an episode on the shortlist from a show I don’t watch (and have no intention of watching—sorry Lower Decks), so I just skip it and don’t put it in my ballot at the end, or rank it below my own favourites. I do the same with sequels to books I haven’t read, out of respect for the work itself as well as its author, but that’s just me I guess! 🤷🏻♀️
Anyway, here are some thoughts about my favourite episodes of speculative TV from this year, under spoiler tags for obvious reasons.
Two episodes from Stranger Things, Season 5+
‘Chapter Four: Sorcerer’
I loved, loved, loved this episode. The moment Will uses his new power… it gave me goosebumps, it was so good—and the fight sequence in front of the gate to the Upside Down is incredible. Rather than the writing, though, I want to praise the actors’ performances and the work of the crew who worked on the practical effects, stunts, and complicated cinematography in this episode. Especially given more recent revelations about how the Duffers went into production with season 5 without having ironed out the ending, and the stress that added to the poor production crew, I think any flowers should really be going to them for making such an outstanding piece of TV despite the challenges.
‘Chapter Six: Escape from Camazotz’
Yes, the scene in this photo feels a little ludicrously long considering they’re both on the run and about to be caught by the Big Bad, but I loved the heart of this relationship and the character development for both Holly and Max in this episode. I had also seen the Stranger Things play in London a couple of years back, and this episode eliminated the issues I had with the world-building in that, which at first had seemed to contradict the revelations in season 4 about Vecna/Henry Creel’s agency as a villain and his role in shaping the Upside Down… I was glad to see that in fact all the loose threads from the various seasons did connect, and that the strands from the play were relevant too.
Various episodes from Severance, Season 2+
S2E4: ‘Woe’s Hollow’
I mentioned this episode in my discussion of the series earlier, but let me get into it here: this is one of the best episodes of TV ever made, period, and I will fight you on this. I don’t know if it would stand alone in any capacity, considering the weird tone is already a lot to deal with and there’s a lot of plot and character interaction that picks up from where the last season left off, not to mention a big-time betrayal that ends up echoing through the rest of season 2.
I spent a good chunk of the beginning wondering if this was a simulator or a dream sequence because it didn’t fully make sense for our protagonists to be outside the Lumon offices, and the uncanny doppelgangers guiding them through the forest seemed almost dreamlike, but the reality was much more sinister in the end, which tracks. If there’s a single episode from this show I’d nominate, it’d be this one.
S2E8: ‘Sweet Vitriol’
People hate this episode because it’s slow and follows an unlikeable antagonist whom we are invited to empathise with, and that’s precisely the reason I like it. First of all, we get way more insight into the Lumon cult corporation from Harmony Cobel, who ostensibly grew up in the cult and has invested her whole life into the company’s welfare. This is also where we begin to see cracks form in her resolve as an antagonist, as she has realised that the company sees her as an expendable cog despite her lifelong investment and dedication, and so she decides to fight them, to prove that this little cog is actually so important, it might well bring the whole house down.
It’s interesting also for thematic reasons, outside of the show’s world. On an individual level, the image of someone who grew up in poverty while idolising a particular company, then making their entire life revolve around it so as to gain favour and socioeconomic mobility, gaining that and then losing it when the company no longer sees them as valuable, is unfortunately too relatable. So is seeing a small town that once had its own industry and community be taken over by a mega corporation and become completely dependent on it, eventually falling into destitution once the corporation pulls their activities out of the town. The actual commentary here is silent, but extremely powerful.
I don’t think Cobel’s about-turn is enough to fully make her an anti-hero, but I really enjoyed this episode for all the insight it gave us both into her and the world of Severance outside of Lumon HQ.
S2E10: ‘Cold Harbor’
There is a strong argument to be made that the season two finale is absolutely worth a nomination as well, making this a really tough choice. Two seasons’ worth of mystery solving and internal corporate espionage culminate in this one-hour episode where our protagonists clash with one another and with the antagonists, and it’s just adrenaline all the way down.
Some spoilery thoughts here.While the big questions have been answered (where is Mark’s wife? what is Cold Harbor? what are they doing with all those sheep?), so many more remain. Is there a way to save the innies at all, if Lumon ends up falling? Can Mark S. and Helly R. ever hope to have a life outside these walls? And what happens to Gemma now that she’s out, even though she has 24 distinct, hand-crafted personalities inside her?
There’s actually a great take I hadn’t come across before I sat down to write this, and that is that the finale actually inverts the Orpheus & Eurydice narrative of Mark and Gemma, by having Mark’s innie actually choose to stay behind in Lumon so he can be with Helly. It’s less of a lack of faith and more of a conscious decision, which perhaps makes it even more tragic as Gemma watches her husband (sort of) run toward danger and another woman, leaving her alone at the exit, screaming for him to come back.
Having written about the other episodes already, I do think ep4 is a stronger contender purely from a craft/vibes standpoint, whereas the finale is more typical in many ways, as it focuses on exposition and plot and is faster paced. YMMV here, for sure, but I’m inclined to pick ep4 over this one, now that I think about it.
Two episodes from Pluribus, Season 1+
Episode 1: “We is Us”
It’s not often that a TV pilot stands on its own two feet well. It’s even less common for the film-making to be so good that one must gasp in awe at the choreography, cinematography, and editing, multiple times throughout the course of the episode. One of my biggest peeves is when a TV pilot is so mired in exposition that there is no room for characters or atmosphere until the next episode because they simply have to give you the setup quickly—it ends up feeling flat and boring and frankly, it puts me off more than it entices me to keep watching until it gets better.7
Well, this episode does none of that.
Gilligan’s forte is silent scenes that actually speak volumes. There is so much storytelling in this episode that has no words; we watch an intergalactic viral hive mind sequence take over the Earth in perfectly synchronised movement, and the storytelling is in the silence, the perfect unison, and the eerie smiles as the hive mind consciousness flattens the individuals inside. A lesser writer would put exposition in dialogue, possibly giving too much information for where we are in the story, but Gilligan knows that less is more. We get just enough to hook us in, and the rest is pure atmosphere and of course, character.
Carol is introduced as a grumpy romantasy author, a lesbian in a loving relationship who constantly finds reasons to be miserable, much to her partner’s chagrin. When the hive mind sequence is spread via planes in the air, Carol loses her partner, and simultaneously the world. The panic that ensues is completely understandable, and it gets worse at every turn as she is met with more and more hive mind people, but no one else like her. What a place for a pilot to leave us in! Aren’t you hooked just by reading this?? GO WATCH THIS SHOW!
Episode 7: “The Gap”
The title refers to a real place that Manousos (pictured) has to cross, but also I suppose to the gap between Carol and others at this point in the show. This is another masterfully crafted episode with a dual narrative point of view, where Carol continues her life in Albuquerque while Manousos is making his slow way up through South and Central America towards Carol, crossing cities, climbing mountains, and trudging through thick, treacherous jungles, all while refusing the hive mind’s help at every opportunity.
Some spoilery thoughts here.At first, it’s admirable; he won’t even take gas without paying for it somehow, even though everything he comes across is at his disposal. Soon enough, however, his steadfastness turns into stubbornness that does more harm to him than good. When he gets seriously injured in the jungle (something that was completely preventable, had he accepted the hive mind’s help and transited through safer means),
Meanwhile, Carol stoically endures complete and total isolation for a long time as a result of the hive mind evacuating the whole metro area of Albuquerque, which happened when Carol hurt one of them (and by extension, all of them) quite badly while trying to find answers. She is given resources and sustenance remotely, and for a while enjoys her peaceful environment, going around town and doing whatever she feels like… until she finally cracks under the pressure of extreme loneliness, and asks the hive mind to come back.
It’s an incredibly powerful moment actually, seeing someone as stubborn sturdy as Carol finally admit that she can’t live her whole life completely cut off from other people, even though she hates the hive mind on principle, and can’t wrap her mind around accepting this status quo. In fairness, she makes it to about a month and a half, which is pretty long, but her isolation was also so complete that there were zero people around her for that whole time—an unfathomable experience that’s so well depicted on screen. I personally love the rooftop golf scene as an example of how utterly devoid of people the landscape is, a mundane sort of post-apocalyptic image.
This is probably my favourite episode in season 1, and even think it could be presented without context and still mostly work alright for new viewers… Though I’d still hope that people would watch the whole season anyway. If I had to pick one episode to represent the series as a whole, I’d say it’s this one.
Short Form: Non-TV
‘Songs No One Will Hear’ by Arjen Lucassen (music album)
I wrote a fair amount about this pre-apocalyptic concept album in my underrated Hugo recommendations post; here’s a snippet:
The result is an album that grapples with the essence of the human condition (something Lucassen is very adept at), asking what makes life worth living from the perspectives of a bunch of different characters as they try to come to terms with the impending end of the world—including those who think it’s all a hoax, those who embrace it, and those who rage against the dying of the light. It straddles a weird and fun line between diegetic/in-world music that’s on the radio and telling the story as a sung-through musical, which is a little different than what you might expect, particularly for a progressive rock album. But that’s the Arjen Lucassen guarantee: big questions, big emotions, and a sound that isn’t afraid to change dramatically when necessary, even mid-song. Full of theatricality, Songs No One Will Hear is in some ways very similar to Lucassen’s Ayreon albums, but retains its own identity both musically and thematically.
We’ve been known to nominate SFF music albums when they arise, and on occasion those musicians have even responded to being recognised by fandom—seeing Clipping live in Helsinki was fun!—so this wouldn’t be out of the realm of possibility, though perhaps it is a bit of a left field suggestion for most Hugo voters as a progressive rock concept album.
While he’s extremely popular in his own niche, most of Lucassen’s fans aren’t in SF fandom and vice versa, something that I would love to help shift by talking about his work more to Hugo voters and talking to Ayreon/Lucassen fans more about joining our community and coming to Worldcon, especially as the next few years are looking quite international. Lucassen’s very obvious Golden Age influences are bound to have pointed many of his fans to the genre, so the bridge is already half-built.
I’m sure that I’ll be one of very few people longlisting this album, but 🤷🏻♀️! I really think If you see just a single, solitary vote for it in the full data, know that it was me!
Footnotes
- Per the WSFS Constitution, clauses 3.8.2 and 3.8.3. ↩︎
- In addition to the more fannish post I linked above, I found another really cool essay about the Barbican as Coruscant from an architect who works in film and TV. ↩︎
- A special shoutout to Joshua James, who played the doctor who tortured Bix Caleen with the sounds of distant massacres; I’ve been a huge fan of his ever since I saw him in Treasure Island at the National Theatre back in 2015 or so, and make a point to see him in every play he’s in when I can. He had a stint as Dr Brenner in Stranger Things: The First Shadow recently which I unfortunately missed, but I bet he was perfect! ↩︎
- I’d like to thank Octothorpe’s Alison Scott for her recommendation to see the film in an IMAX theatre, as the experience was truly spectacular. ↩︎
- There is another Black Widow character played by Olga Kurilenko who turns up for literally five minutes, but she is so not present in the rest of the film that I’m not even going to go into it. If it weren’t for Yelena and Alexei, I’d say that movie had zero lasting impact on the MCU, given how late into Natasha’s journey we got it (literally after she was canonically killed off), lol (sarcastic). ↩︎
- I still don’t know how to feel about the plot twist around Krypton and Clark’s biological parents, brief as it was. I think it is intended to maximise the contrast between where Clark hails from and where he grew up and how that affected his identity, and the discomfort it creates is probably very intentional from Gunn. ↩︎
- I call this “pilot syndrome”, and it’s one of my least favourite phenomena in media. ↩︎
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Battle for the Ballot: Best Dramatic Presentation 2026
The two Best Dramatic Presentation categories are among my favourites in the Hugos, because I consume a lot of SFF media and have a lot of thoughts and feelings about them. Since my post last year about why I had wanted Loki S2 to win a Hugo in 2024 (which I was working on for a while but ended up not posting it in time for it to sway anyone), I’ve been toying with the idea of producing more writing around some of my favourite things from each year, in case it helps anybody—least of all me, in getting it all out of my system.
I know I’m posting this with one day to go before nominations (these take so long for me! I must develop a better system for next year 🤔), but I’m really writing this to sound out my own thoughts about the DP categories this year, because it is absolutely bananas with how stacked they both are. There have been some truly great speculative television shows and films, stuff that I’m sure we’ll still be talking about for years to come, and making decisions to boil my favourite media down to just 5 per category—especially given the fiddliness of Long Form and Short Form where TV is concerned, which I’ll get to in a sec—is going to be excruciatingly difficult for me.
So come along on a journey with me as I parse my thoughts, and who knows! Maybe I’ll argue my way to your heart about some of this, or tell you about something you hadn’t heard of before—some of which I’ve already written about before, but I’m getting ahead of myself!
Let me know what your ballot looks like, and if you’re nominating any of the below shows, films, and other dramatic works, or if you’re including other things entirely. I’m curious!
TV series and the Long Form/Short Form debate
A big question for many fen every year is “do I nominate one episode from a TV series that stands on its own or that adequately represents the show in Short Form, or do I nominate the whole season in Long Form because it’s one complete narrative, and isolating one chapter of it would be unfair?”
Understandably, it’s a tough one; when a show inevitably gets votes in both categories, it can lead to headaches for the Hugo Administrating Team as they have to sift through the numbers and ultimately decide which category it should be nominated in1, which I don’t envy at all. But at the same time, as a voter, I have to go with what my heart says and name my favourite episodes in Short Form, regardless of whether I’ve also named the show/season as a whole in Long Form, because if enough others have put that same episode down, then that’s what’ll make it through to the shortlist, and I would want my vote to count towards those totals.
All that to say: if you expected a clear stance from me on this, HA! I’m afraid I don’t have one 😇—and to be perfectly honest, this is exactly the sort of thing where people’s mileage will vary the most.
My personal method of deciding whether to nominate entire TV seasons rather than one specific episode is purely based on ~vibes~, on whether or not I thought the season works better in its totality than through its individual parts, versus cases where one outstanding episode eclipses all the others for me. Not all shows are written the same, of course, and those that favour a longer narrative arc (as a lot of prestige TV does nowadays) tend to find their way on my long form ballot more often than not, as opposed to the more episodic writing that isn’t as popular now but used to be ubiquitous in the pre-streaming era.
Ultimately, you may agree or disagree with me on my reasoning for some of my choices below, whether on the LF/SF question or my actual opinions of the various media, and that’s fair enough. I welcome discussion in the comments, but please keep it civil!
Jump to:
- Long Form: Entire TV Seasons
- Long Form: Films
- Long Form: Non-Film/TV
- Short Form: TV Episodes
- Short Form: Non-TV
Long Form: Entire TV Seasons
You might see episodes from some of these further down in the episode/short form discussion.
Andor, Season 2+
This is kind of my front-runner among the TV seasons for the Long Form category. Overall, I enjoyed it slightly more than season 1 for a few reasons: first of all, the pacing was much more even, with a little bit more action and intrigue peppered throughout the season as opposed to having several quieter mini-arcs that slowed things down in places; and crucially, there was a lot less dithering from Cassian Andor, our reluctant protagonist, who finally comes into his own as a rebel after being passively tossed about this way and that in the first season. The agency he has in this one makes him much more interesting as a character, and brings him on the same level as other players in the budding rebellion front, like Mon Mothma and Luthen Rael. In fact, with all the different character arcs completed, Andor finally becomes what Rogue One always wanted to be: a testament to the great sacrifices necessary for revolution to take root.
I liked a lot of what went down in this season as tensions continued ramping up between the Empire and the Rebellion; the Ghorman subplot was outstanding, especially with Dedra and Cyril’s journeys as instruments of Imperial oppression and violence, as was Mon Mothma’s arc from quiet resistance financier to full-on political rebel on the run, with her heartbreaking arc where she realises the personal cost of rebellion. None of the individual episodes in season 2 came even close to the intensity or narrative brilliance of One Way Out, which was hands down my favourite episode of season 1, but that’s okay—I think this season works so much better in its totality, that I’ll be happy to nominate it wholesale.
I still need to re-watch Rogue One actually, to see if my (very mid) opinion on it changes at all, but ultimately I’m just really happy this show was made, and that it looked and felt amazing throughout. It’s probably my favourite Star Wars story, period, and I am so chuffed that so much of it was filmed in the UK (in locations I know and visit all the time, including my old workplace!2), and is full of incredibly talented and classically trained British theatre actors who fill the space with their physicality and make their performances memorable even in the smallest of roles3.
Severance, Season 2+
Another really strong contender for this category. If you ask me which TV show might win the LF Hugo between this, Andor, or Pluribus, my money would probably be on Severance, even if I personally prefer Andor thematically and Pluribus cinematically. There’s no doubt Severance is an absolute masterpiece of television—nay, of cinema—and the fact that the most anti-capitalist story of our time is coming directly from the big tech megacorp Apple is an irony that is as delicious as it is hilarious.
Aside from its bonkers world-building (which still has so many unanswered questions!), this season of Severance also dove pretty deep into its characters, whom we only got to know a bit in season 1. I don’t want to get too spoilery here, but there’s a handful of moments in this season that go SO HARD—particularly that one slow episode that everyone else hated for some reason, where we follow Patricia Arquette’s character as she goes to her dingy home town and fills us in on the cult lore around Lumon Industries, and of course the team building episode in which our intrepid heroes actually go outside, but it’s all weird in that trademark Lumon way where nothing really fully makes sense, and it leaves the viewer feeling uncomfortable, like something’s not quite aligned right.
But yeah, the world-building, man. It’s something else. I was glued to my screen and my mind was running a mile a minute trying to join the dots and figure out the answers to the show’s mysteries, much like our heroes consolidate memories refine macrodata—remember, the work is mysterious and important—and the excitement of getting it just before the show confirmed it was super fun. Yet, finally understanding what macrodata refinement is was actually a really tragic moment, and everything that happens after that made my heart break for the innies who are stuck living a half-life they can’t escape, on pain of death.
Ultimately, what I loved the most about the second season of Severance is its staunch anti-capitalist messaging that speaks to the average office worker today regardless of where they may be in the world, because corporate manipulation knows no borders:
- A job is a job, not a family.
- The company you work for does not deserve blind, cult-like loyalty.
- Your life is more than just work, and compartmentalising your work self and your out-of-work self might be a band-aid solution, but it doesn’t really work in the end.
- You are you, with all your complex layers of self, even if your corporate overlords (…or just your line manager 🤐) want you to think otherwise, or to act otherwise so you can fit into their office culture.
- Basically, it’s all dumb, and you deserve to live, not just to survive so you can punch your clock card and get meaningless little bonuses like finger traps or waffle parties.
This relatability is what keeps me hooked, and what I think elevates the show from pretty sci-fi to a classic of our times. It’s definitely got my vote.
Pluribus, Season 1+
God, talk about another cinematic masterpiece. When Breaking Bad/Better Call Saul‘s Vince Gilligan said he was working on a new show (which he was writing specifically for Rhea Seahorn to star in), I was crossing my fingers and my toes that it would be sci-fi, and Pluribus has completely blown my expectations out of the water. Not only does it mark Gilligan’s return to science fiction for the first time since The X-Files, but he brings his now-trademark cinematic visual language to it, full of tight choreography and nuanced subtext through visual and music cues, which is what made BB & BCS so special.
The result is an unnerving combination of horror, absurdist humour, and subtle world-building, centered around a complex character named Carol Sturka, who is one of only a few humans not to join the weird hive mind connection that takes over all other human beings on the planet, and doesn’t want to even entertain the idea. I’ve seen many reviews call her unlikable and unrelatable, and while the first part may be true (I was really tired of her contrarian nature in the first half of the season), I think there’s something more going on here than just a selfish white American woman who expects the world to move just for her.
The thing is, Vince Gilligan does not talk down to his audience; he expects us to keep up and to pick up what he’s putting down, whether that’s subtle digs at the publishing industry (it is truly hilarious to me that the protagonist of this show is an actual romantasy author!), not-so-subtle digs about community building and the harm humanity has done to the planet and to each other (particularly around resource distribution, iykyk), and questions about human nature that we are left to ponder: would you trade world peace for the complete flattening of human culture? Are we capable of retaining what makes us human while not actively harming the world around us, or each other? What is humanity, really, or human nature even?
Big stuff coming from an Apple TV show, once again; should I even be surprised at this point?
I think the long game of this show is going to be Carol’s character development from grumpy selfish miser to someone who genuinely cares about other people—a reverse Walter White, if you will. Gilligan is all about the narrative arc, and he has been known to deliver some of the best narrative arcs in TV ever, even if they take a while to stick the landing. I have faith that he is cooking something we haven’t even yet begun to poke at, if Better Call Saul is any indication, and between the already great writing and the show’s superlative production value, I think Pluribus is going to be a low-key modern classic. Vince has my vote, now and always.
My Hero Academia: The Final Season+
I wrote about this extensively in my Hugo ballot recommendations post a couple of months ago, so I’ll pull a quote from that as to why I loved it so much:
Y’all, what can I say: this has been my favourite anime of the last decade, and the fact it is ending has had me in my feelings for months. I’ve been deeply invested emotionally for many years, watching the simulcasts on the same day as the anime airs in Japan since around season 2, and this last season has been all payoff for almost ten years’ worth of story. Every Saturday from October 4th till December 13th, I tuned in and bawled my eyes out for 20 minutes straight, which for an anime aimed at teenage boys is an absolute feat. Defying every expectation, it stuck the landing for every little story beat, every subplot, and every theme set up over its ten year tenure perfectly, making it one of my absolute favourite stories in the superhero genre.
This is definitely one of those where context is essential, so I don’t think it can be viewed in a vacuum and appreciated to the same extent as having watched all previous seven seasons. You can try, but it wouldn’t be worth it just for the awards. Just watch the show so the ending can hit you like a ton of bricks in the best way possible, even if you miss the deadline. It’s fun, it’s moving, it’s made with so much love for American comics through a uniquely Japanese perspective. I can’t recommend it enough, and it’ll definitely be on my Long Form ballot even if I’m one of ten people who put it there 🤷🏻♀️
Honourable mentions/near misses+
- Silo, Season 2: It’s definitely not as tight as season 1, and it was missing some stuff from the books that may well turn up in season 3. For what it’s worth, there’s a lot I enjoyed about this season, but unfortunately it’s simply weaker when Rebecca Ferguson’s Juliette isn’t on screen, and there’s a lot of that unfortunately. I’m certainly looking forward to what season 3 will be adapting, and to see what format that will take, as I think they’re either condensing or axing the second half of book 2 to go straight to the dual narrative of book 3, which I have mixed feelings about.
- Murderbot: I never got into the books because of tonal whiplash (MB’s violence and misanthropy coated in dry humour just didn’t work for me), and while I thought the TV show was a little better in that regard, ultimately I thought the show was just okay. I didn’t actively dislike it, mind, but I watched most of it on a plane ride, didn’t finish it, and haven’t felt like picking it back up since. The story just doesn’t grab me, I think, and I never felt particularly attached to or compelled by any of the characters… and I’m okay with that 🤷🏻♀️. Not everything is for everyone! I expect it’ll be mass-nominated by all the book fans anyway based on the online discourse I’ve seen, so it won’t miss my vote.
- Invasion, Season 3: I didn’t even know this was out, lmao! I was deeply invested while watching seasons 1 and 2 (even though I disliked quite a few of the characters), but as soon as I was done with it I promptly forgot about it—and Apple TV didn’t even let me know that it was back on. Whomst can I shake until they fix the marketing situation over there?! Christ on a cracker!
- Stranger Things, Season 5: To my own surprise, I didn’t like this season nearly as much as season 4, let alone season 1, and so I will not be considering it for the Long Form category (including the last episode, which would qualify under Long Form on its own due to being 128 MINUTES LONG 🙄). It’s turned out to be one of those things where, while I enjoyed it a fair bit in the moment, the longer I think about it the more my feelings about it seem to change, and the ending has left me a bit… conflicted, shall we say. But it did have some great episodes in the middle especially, so I will consider a couple of them in the Short Form category.
Long Form: Films
Sinners+
This was probably my favourite SFF film of last year. Not only is it atmospheric, fun, and lush with cross-border folkloric world-building (Hoodoo magic and Irish vampires?! yes please!), but the story touches so many themes that a regular popcorn movie won’t even veer towards, and it does so brilliantly.
All the many layers of the Black and POC experience in the South during the Prohibition era (and beyond) are crystallised in the character arc of each ensemble cast member, with some absolutely outstanding performances by Hailee Steinfeld (whose character Mary is biracial, and torn between safety and belonging), Michael B. Jordan (who plays identical twins Smoke and Stack so well he walked away with an Oscar for it), and Wunmi Mosaku in particular as Smoke’s wife Annie (she’s such an underrated performer, but I’m so glad to see her actually flex her acting skills after her appearance in Loki). We’re talking themes like the push and pull of religion and its role in both keeping communities together and also oppressing them, the safety of BIPOC in a white supremacist society, and even the immigrant experience… the truth is your average blockbuster would never—but this is Ryan Coogler, and he won’t sugar-coat things for a mainstream audience, instead telling a story only he could tell, filled with truth, complexity, and nuance, something I really wish more filmmakers would embrace nowadays.
The film’s protagonist, Sammie (Miles Caton) has a preternatural gift with music, and the plot revolves around a juke joint Smoke and Stack put together, and the connection that music can create across time and even culture—with a wonderful supernatural twist.
One of my favourite moments is when the villain Remmick (an immortal Irish vampire played by Jack O’Connell) turns up at their juke joint and cries with joy at the emotions Sammie’s music has brought him after years of numbness. He talks about his own experience of colonialism at the hands of the British Empire and the subsequent erasure of Irish culture through the centuries, which is a very real thing—but he’s also a predator who has been making his way through the land trying to trap people and turn them into vampires, chased away by indigenous people who could tell he was a monster before attacking a couple who are Klan members. It’s clear that he doesn’t want Sammie’s music in order to connect people, but to use it as a tool on his quest to propagate a vampire race, and that seemingly sweet moment of connection is exposed as the performative allyship that it is.
There are some phenomenal action sequences too, with the last third of the film keeping me on the edge of my IMAX seat4. Genuinely, this film was such a breath of fresh air: delightfully complex but also fun, in ways that cinema just doesn’t dare to be right now. I was sad they didn’t win all the awards they were up for, but perhaps we can give it a Hugo instead.
Frankenstein+
©️ Netflix 2025I have a full review of this here, but basically: the SFF-ness of this is lush, as expected from a Guillermo Del Toro movie, and for the most part it works well as an adaptation of the book. As I mention in my other post, it doesn’t quite reach the heights of the NT’s theatre adaptation, which I still consider the ultimate version of this story, but it does similar things with the characters as Penny Dreadful, which is my runner-up favourite, save for the very end, and it’s that ending that makes the whole thing fall short for me, unfortunately.
To quote myself:
Why do we sing sad songs, when we know their ending is unhappy? When our instinctual yearning for a happy ending is met with the inevitability of human flaws getting in the way, that emotional release we experience is what my ancestors called catharsis. As the audience we accept that because of who these characters are, they would always make these choices and lead the story to the same outcome, time and again, even though we’d like them to change, to choose better, so they can be happy in the end.
What makes Frankenstein compelling in any iteration is its core conflict: Victor’s refusal to acknowledge the Creature as human, despite the fact that the Creature is deeply human, as much as his creator would like to think otherwise. We are invited to empathise with the Creature’s plight, to see how he thinks and feels, how he desires things we all do: safety, friendship, love. Victor is incapable of recognising this, and so the two clash eternally. Such is the tragedy, and no matter what minor changes are made to it, the good adaptations always recognise the impasse between the two at the end. It’s what makes the story tick.
My ultimate issue with the way Del Toro chose to end his adaptation of Frankenstein is that it ultimately robs us of our deserved catharsis by artificially resolving the incontrovertible stalemate between the two leads, giving us a happy(ish) ending in which Victor, at death’s door, forgives the Creature for the violence and destruction he’s wrought, apologises for what he did to him, and urges him to live on, free of guilt, yet completely alone. The Creature then walks off into the Arctic sunrise, liberated from his vendetta yet devastated at losing his creator.
It’s a lovely thought in principle, a Del Toro-ism about accepting one’s nature and walking away from one’s painful past, and if it were an original story without baggage I’d be all for it—after all, The Shape of Water had similar, pro-monster themes of letting go of trying to fit into a world that won’t accept you anyway, and I ate that up voraciously. But here, in taking a tragedy that is so classic and ingrained, loading it with a bunch of new traumas and subplots, and then resolving it all with a little monologue, the ending robs the story of its true conclusion, fundamentally missing the point of the source text, and doing a disservice both to Victor and the Creature.
I still think it’s a strong contender in the category, and definitely one of my favourite SFF movies I saw last year, despite my issues with it. However, given all my favourite TV shows above, I think I might eschew giving this one of my ballot spots, but I won’t be disappointed to see it on the final ballot, should it make it through.
Thunderbolts*+
I loved this movie A LOT, you guys, and it made me very sad that it flopped at the box office. I don’t blame people for being fatigued with Marvel’s mediocre superhero slop, but they should have given this movie a chance at the very least, because it might not have been the movie we wanted, but it was definitely the movie we needed right now.
(c) Disney/Marvel Studios, 2025I was very surprised with how deep it went into the trauma our various superheroes and anti-heroes have sustained through their previous adventures, and the level of empathy with which it treated them all:
- Yelena Belova, the last surviving Black Widow5, starts off depressed and morose, aimless, dissatisfied with running around and blowing things up for people with nothing to show for it except a path of destruction.
- Her and Natasha Romanoff’s father figure, Alexei Shostakov, is facing the music that his “Red Star” superhero persona is nothing but a figment of a bygone era, and is living a meagre life as a limo driver while reminiscing about his glory days.
- John Walker, the temporary Captain America replacement later dubbed “U.S. Agent”, is dealing with guilt after slaughtering innocent bystanders using Cap’s vibranium shield during the events of The Falcon and the Winter Soldier, all while struggling through early parenthood.
- The Winter Soldier—Bucky Barnes—is running for office, in an attempt to turn his newfound and shaky inner peace into something productive. Yet, something keeps niggling at him about the power vacuum left in the wake of the Avengers disappearing, and he can’t help but get involved in ways political candidates really shouldn’t. See: taking a huge machine gun and riding a motorbike out to the desert to find out who is behind these shenanigans. Tut tut, Mr Congressman.
- Oh, there’s also Ava Star/Ghost from Ant-Man and the Wasp, probably my least favourite Marvel movie to date, whom I completely forgot about before watching this movie and while writing this review. Oops! Her thing is that she is constantly phasing in and out of a solid existence, and she has to keep shouting about how traumatised she is with no need for subtext because they know we’ve all forgotten about her and need to be reminded of her struggles. Normally I’d be mad at that, but they are not wrong this time 😅
And then, there’s Bob.
(c) Disney/Marvel, 2025Bob is a new guy, recruited to be experimented on in hopes of becoming a superhero. He seems normal, average even, and he reluctantly joins our motley crew as they escape from a trap set by their employer—but under the surface he carries a deep wound, a gash that opens up to swallow him whole and turns him into The Void, his mysterious alter ego who awakens when Bob’s absolutely OTT superpowers kick in. The rest, as they say, is plot.
There’s a lot of (predictably dark) humour in this, and I was surprised with how much I liked these characters once they were given enough room to be protagonists, rather than minor antagonists in someone else’s story. While they haphazardly join forces into a makeshift team, their trauma is taken seriously, coalescing into the film’s climactic battle that pits the reluctant heroes against The Void, who weaponises each of their subconscious against them. The Void is Depression, by any other name—it’s the dark voice inside that tells each of our anti-heroes that they are worthless, unlovable, guilty, and alone. In order to beat him they have to reach out with empathy to themselves first and then to each other, and literally hold each other in a tight embrace as a reminder that they are not alone. What wins the day is friendship, empathy, and love, not unlike the last season of My Hero Academia, which I also loved last year, or Superman, which I’m about to get into below.
I cried BUCKETS while watching Thunderbolts* in the UK’s largest IMAX screen alongside my Bucky Barnes-obsessed friend, who has since made this film her entire personality (affectionate), and honestly, I’ve also been thinking about it ever since. Again, it’s a delightful little irony that the megalithic Disney/MCU would come out with a narrative so introspective and empathetic, especially at a time that loneliness and isolation is rampant among the film’s core audience of young men. I really hope that watching this film inspired people to reach out and be less alone in their struggles, and that the financial hit Disney took with it won’t keep us from seeing more of these characters in the future.
Also! A fun fact I noticed while listening to the soundtrack was that the film’s main theme is a reversed version of the main Avengers theme; just listen to the first few seconds of both themes and you’ll hear it:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8-Jzgp1jNiQ
Superman+
A good Superman movie?? In this economy?? Hallelujah!
I love a lot about what this film does with the core Superman premise. It gets Clark right, down to his farm boy roots and dorky kindness. It gets Superman right: his power isn’t unbeatable, and it isn’t even the most powerful thing about him (spoiler: it’s the dorky kindness). It gets Lex Luthor right—especially for our times—by having him be a smart but petty tech billionaire with an overinflated ego, someone who funds an invasion and even starts a pocket dimension on a whim, without once thinking of the consequences. It even gets Jimmy Olsen right simply by bringing him out of the margins where he’s been relegated for the last several Superman adaptations—and it’s actually really funny that he’s the one guy with the most game in this film, and that that’s how he gets to help out.
The structure of the film is an absolute delight, too. From the very start, we are thrown into the midst of a losing fight for Superman, which is a bold choice, as is having Clark’s relationship with Lois Lane already set up (and she even knows about him being Superman!). We don’t spend any time whatsoever on origin stories, budding relationship exploration, or long-winded exposition—we simply hit the ground running, and find out the particulars as we go along. It is assumed we know who Superman is, because… we all know who Superman is. And the themes around identity, responsibility, community, and how we should treat each other are laid bare without pretence, very directly speaking to the audience about contemporary problems we’re all facing day to day. It’s a genuine breath of fresh air not to be treated like an idiot, frankly.
There are a couple of things I don’t like about it though. For one, the film feels very busy, with so many characters and subplots and easter eggs thrown in, that if you blink you’ll definitely miss something. Relatedly, not all of those characters or subplots are treated equally, because there simply isn’t enough screen time to go around for everything. So the Justice Friends get the short shrift, as do Papa and Mama Kent, as does Krypton6, so that we can focus on the personal and political stakes that Clark/Superman has to overcome.
This is another superhero story with empathy at its heart, where the answer to even the most cosmic problems is… just be kind. Kindness is punk rock. As one of my favourite YouTube video essayists put it, this Superman is the American hero we desperately need right now. Someone who will stand up for what’s right even when the rest of the world tells him not to, someone with an unshakeable moral compass that only points to goodness. Watch that whole video actually, Dove does such a fantastic job analysing the cultural geography that plays into this film, and how it all ties together to bring us this ray of f*cking sunshine:
All this to say, I love that James Gunn can make a superhero movie that aims to appeal broadly but doesn’t feel like it panders to the lowest available denominator, and that he had the guts to (a) make the story feel relevant to our current times, what with all the invasions/”wars” going on right now that are purely happening for profit and that no one is doing anything to stop 🙄, and (b) leave us with a message of hope, that we can imagine a kinder world and that we can be the instruments of making that vision a reality. That kindness can be punk rock.
Dare I say, this was the movie that made me go, “huh, maybe the genre isn’t dead yet”, which… please, let it not be dead, I really like superheroes!
Honourable mentions/near misses+
- Mickey 17: I enjoyed this a lot, particularly for its world-building and Robert Pattinson’s performance. Unfortunately I think the Bong Joon-Ho-ness of it all kind of undercuts the story in favour of very on-the-nose political commentary, which was fun in the moment but in retrospect kinda leaves me a bit… “meh!”, probably because the current climate is so much worse than when this movie was made, and making fun of things/people just isn’t enough right now. So I don’t think this will be getting one of my spots, but it’s still totally worth seeing, if you haven’t!
- Fantastic Four – First Steps: I also enjoyed this a lot, especially in light of B-Mask’s excellent Fantastic Four video from a few years back which explained the classic comics and got me up to speed on the characters. It’s an honest-to-God decent, good Marvel movie, which as I keep saying is a rare sight these days, but that being said… I liked the stuff I talked about up top way more than this one, not to mention the TV seasons, so I just think it gets edged out by the competition.
- Hamnet: Technically an SFF movie! The trailer had me weeping, but the movie left me cold somehow, perhaps because it’s a little too obvious in its attempts to make people cry (Mark Kermode said it best! The bit with the song at the very end irked me too because I recognised it, and the moment was actually completely ruined for me.) It does have some wonderful and atmospheric visuals where it comes to the speculative aspect of it, and the soundtrack by Max Richter is predictably phenomenal (if only they’d used his original song for the climactic ending of the film!!), but it just didn’t move me in the ways I thought it would, so it’s a miss.
The “I haven’t seen these yet” caveat+
- K-Pop Demon Hunters: Yes, I know, somehow, I still haven’t seen this movie. I’m assuming it’ll get nominated to high heaven, so I’ll watch it ahead of voting, I promise.
- Weapons: I’ve heard fantastic things about this, and my husband is a big WKUK fan, so I might be watching this soon and revising my thoughts.
- Wicked: For Good: I liked the first film well enough, and I hear that a LOT happens in the second half of the musical, so I’m tentatively putting this on a hold list until I watch it. I don’t know if it would edge out any of my favourites, realistically speaking, but I suppose there is always room for surprises!
Long Form: Non-Film/TV
B-Mask’s “The REAL Thunderbolts Story: Marvel’s Greatest Scam“*
This is a 2.5 hour love letter to comics, and the first in a five-part series that tells the story of the real Thunderbolts from the comic books (a team that bears very little resemblance to the one portrayed in the recent MCU film discussed above). It features complex animations drawing from the original comic book art, as well as a full cast of voice actors bringing the characters to life with their performances.
* I’m personally torn on whether this would qualify for BDP-LF or BRW (seeing as it is technically a fanwork, and not an original work), but either way it is nothing short of a masterpiece—I wrote more about it in my 2025 underrated Hugo picks post, if you’re interested.
Short Form: TV Episodes
A caveat: my reasoning around nominating a particular episode is kind of like nominating my favourite chapter of a novel. Especially with how a lot of the prestige TV shows are made nowadays, individual episodes function as chapters in a longer story, so they have to be considered in the context of the wider narrative they’re a part of. If they are from a second, third, or even last season of a long-running show, even more so.
Also—and this might be a slightly spicy take—I personally don’t like that a lot of Hugo voters seem to only watch the individual episodes on the eventual shortlist without any context, and then complain that they didn’t get what was going on. That’s because context matters, and while I understand that it would take a lot of time to watch an entire season (or even several!) to be able to appreciate a single episode… if you want your vote to be informed, that’s the job, innit?
This has happened several times to me, where there’s an episode on the shortlist from a show I don’t watch (and have no intention of watching—sorry Lower Decks), so I just skip it and don’t put it in my ballot at the end, or rank it below my own favourites. I do the same with sequels to books I haven’t read, out of respect for the work itself as well as its author, but that’s just me I guess! 🤷🏻♀️
Anyway, here are some thoughts about my favourite episodes of speculative TV from this year, under spoiler tags for obvious reasons.
Two episodes from Stranger Things, Season 5+
‘Chapter Four: Sorcerer’
I loved, loved, loved this episode. The moment Will uses his new power… it gave me goosebumps, it was so good—and the fight sequence in front of the gate to the Upside Down is incredible. Rather than the writing, though, I want to praise the actors’ performances and the work of the crew who worked on the practical effects, stunts, and complicated cinematography in this episode. Especially given more recent revelations about how the Duffers went into production with season 5 without having ironed out the ending, and the stress that added to the poor production crew, I think any flowers should really be going to them for making such an outstanding piece of TV despite the challenges.
‘Chapter Six: Escape from Camazotz’
Yes, the scene in this photo feels a little ludicrously long considering they’re both on the run and about to be caught by the Big Bad, but I loved the heart of this relationship and the character development for both Holly and Max in this episode. I had also seen the Stranger Things play in London a couple of years back, and this episode eliminated the issues I had with the world-building in that, which at first had seemed to contradict the revelations in season 4 about Vecna/Henry Creel’s agency as a villain and his role in shaping the Upside Down… I was glad to see that in fact all the loose threads from the various seasons did connect, and that the strands from the play were relevant too.
Various episodes from Severance, Season 2+
S2E4: ‘Woe’s Hollow’
I mentioned this episode in my discussion of the series earlier, but let me get into it here: this is one of the best episodes of TV ever made, period, and I will fight you on this. I don’t know if it would stand alone in any capacity, considering the weird tone is already a lot to deal with and there’s a lot of plot and character interaction that picks up from where the last season left off, not to mention a big-time betrayal that ends up echoing through the rest of season 2.
I spent a good chunk of the beginning wondering if this was a simulator or a dream sequence because it didn’t fully make sense for our protagonists to be outside the Lumon offices, and the uncanny doppelgangers guiding them through the forest seemed almost dreamlike, but the reality was much more sinister in the end, which tracks. If there’s a single episode from this show I’d nominate, it’d be this one.
S2E8: ‘Sweet Vitriol’
People hate this episode because it’s slow and follows an unlikeable antagonist whom we are invited to empathise with, and that’s precisely the reason I like it. First of all, we get way more insight into the Lumon cult corporation from Harmony Cobel, who ostensibly grew up in the cult and has invested her whole life into the company’s welfare. This is also where we begin to see cracks form in her resolve as an antagonist, as she has realised that the company sees her as an expendable cog despite her lifelong investment and dedication, and so she decides to fight them, to prove that this little cog is actually so important, it might well bring the whole house down.
It’s interesting also for thematic reasons, outside of the show’s world. On an individual level, the image of someone who grew up in poverty while idolising a particular company, then making their entire life revolve around it so as to gain favour and socioeconomic mobility, gaining that and then losing it when the company no longer sees them as valuable, is unfortunately too relatable. So is seeing a small town that once had its own industry and community be taken over by a mega corporation and become completely dependent on it, eventually falling into destitution once the corporation pulls their activities out of the town. The actual commentary here is silent, but extremely powerful.
I don’t think Cobel’s about-turn is enough to fully make her an anti-hero, but I really enjoyed this episode for all the insight it gave us both into her and the world of Severance outside of Lumon HQ.
S2E10: ‘Cold Harbor’
There is a strong argument to be made that the season two finale is absolutely worth a nomination as well, making this a really tough choice. Two seasons’ worth of mystery solving and internal corporate espionage culminate in this one-hour episode where our protagonists clash with one another and with the antagonists, and it’s just adrenaline all the way down.
Some spoilery thoughts here.While the big questions have been answered (where is Mark’s wife? what is Cold Harbor? what are they doing with all those sheep?), so many more remain. Is there a way to save the innies at all, if Lumon ends up falling? Can Mark S. and Helly R. ever hope to have a life outside these walls? And what happens to Gemma now that she’s out, even though she has 24 distinct, hand-crafted personalities inside her?
There’s actually a great take I hadn’t come across before I sat down to write this, and that is that the finale actually inverts the Orpheus & Eurydice narrative of Mark and Gemma, by having Mark’s innie actually choose to stay behind in Lumon so he can be with Helly. It’s less of a lack of faith and more of a conscious decision, which perhaps makes it even more tragic as Gemma watches her husband (sort of) run toward danger and another woman, leaving her alone at the exit, screaming for him to come back.
Having written about the other episodes already, I do think ep4 is a stronger contender purely from a craft/vibes standpoint, whereas the finale is more typical in many ways, as it focuses on exposition and plot and is faster paced. YMMV here, for sure, but I’m inclined to pick ep4 over this one, now that I think about it.
Two episodes from Pluribus, Season 1+
Episode 1: “We is Us”
It’s not often that a TV pilot stands on its own two feet well. It’s even less common for the film-making to be so good that one must gasp in awe at the choreography, cinematography, and editing, multiple times throughout the course of the episode. One of my biggest peeves is when a TV pilot is so mired in exposition that there is no room for characters or atmosphere until the next episode because they simply have to give you the setup quickly—it ends up feeling flat and boring and frankly, it puts me off more than it entices me to keep watching until it gets better.7
Well, this episode does none of that.
Gilligan’s forte is silent scenes that actually speak volumes. There is so much storytelling in this episode that has no words; we watch an intergalactic viral hive mind sequence take over the Earth in perfectly synchronised movement, and the storytelling is in the silence, the perfect unison, and the eerie smiles as the hive mind consciousness flattens the individuals inside. A lesser writer would put exposition in dialogue, possibly giving too much information for where we are in the story, but Gilligan knows that less is more. We get just enough to hook us in, and the rest is pure atmosphere and of course, character.
Carol is introduced as a grumpy romantasy author, a lesbian in a loving relationship who constantly finds reasons to be miserable, much to her partner’s chagrin. When the hive mind sequence is spread via planes in the air, Carol loses her partner, and simultaneously the world. The panic that ensues is completely understandable, and it gets worse at every turn as she is met with more and more hive mind people, but no one else like her. What a place for a pilot to leave us in! Aren’t you hooked just by reading this?? GO WATCH THIS SHOW!
Episode 7: “The Gap”
The title refers to a real place that Manousos (pictured) has to cross, but also I suppose to the gap between Carol and others at this point in the show. This is another masterfully crafted episode with a dual narrative point of view, where Carol continues her life in Albuquerque while Manousos is making his slow way up through South and Central America towards Carol, crossing cities, climbing mountains, and trudging through thick, treacherous jungles, all while refusing the hive mind’s help at every opportunity.
Some spoilery thoughts here.At first, it’s admirable; he won’t even take gas without paying for it somehow, even though everything he comes across is at his disposal. Soon enough, however, his steadfastness turns into stubbornness that does more harm to him than good. When he gets seriously injured in the jungle (something that was completely preventable, had he accepted the hive mind’s help and transited through safer means),
Meanwhile, Carol stoically endures complete and total isolation for a long time as a result of the hive mind evacuating the whole metro area of Albuquerque, which happened when Carol hurt one of them (and by extension, all of them) quite badly while trying to find answers. She is given resources and sustenance remotely, and for a while enjoys her peaceful environment, going around town and doing whatever she feels like… until she finally cracks under the pressure of extreme loneliness, and asks the hive mind to come back.
It’s an incredibly powerful moment actually, seeing someone as stubborn sturdy as Carol finally admit that she can’t live her whole life completely cut off from other people, even though she hates the hive mind on principle, and can’t wrap her mind around accepting this status quo. In fairness, she makes it to about a month and a half, which is pretty long, but her isolation was also so complete that there were zero people around her for that whole time—an unfathomable experience that’s so well depicted on screen. I personally love the rooftop golf scene as an example of how utterly devoid of people the landscape is, a mundane sort of post-apocalyptic image.
This is probably my favourite episode in season 1, and even think it could be presented without context and still mostly work alright for new viewers… Though I’d still hope that people would watch the whole season anyway. If I had to pick one episode to represent the series as a whole, I’d say it’s this one.
Short Form: Non-TV
‘Songs No One Will Hear’ by Arjen Lucassen (music album)
I wrote a fair amount about this pre-apocalyptic concept album in my underrated Hugo recommendations post; here’s a snippet:
The result is an album that grapples with the essence of the human condition (something Lucassen is very adept at), asking what makes life worth living from the perspectives of a bunch of different characters as they try to come to terms with the impending end of the world—including those who think it’s all a hoax, those who embrace it, and those who rage against the dying of the light. It straddles a weird and fun line between diegetic/in-world music that’s on the radio and telling the story as a sung-through musical, which is a little different than what you might expect, particularly for a progressive rock album. But that’s the Arjen Lucassen guarantee: big questions, big emotions, and a sound that isn’t afraid to change dramatically when necessary, even mid-song. Full of theatricality, Songs No One Will Hear is in some ways very similar to Lucassen’s Ayreon albums, but retains its own identity both musically and thematically.
We’ve been known to nominate SFF music albums when they arise, and on occasion those musicians have even responded to being recognised by fandom—seeing Clipping live in Helsinki was fun!—so this wouldn’t be out of the realm of possibility, though perhaps it is a bit of a left field suggestion for most Hugo voters as a progressive rock concept album.
While he’s extremely popular in his own niche, most of Lucassen’s fans aren’t in SF fandom and vice versa, something that I would love to help shift by talking about his work more to Hugo voters and talking to Ayreon/Lucassen fans more about joining our community and coming to Worldcon, especially as the next few years are looking quite international. Lucassen’s very obvious Golden Age influences are bound to have pointed many of his fans to the genre, so the bridge is already half-built.
I’m sure that I’ll be one of very few people longlisting this album, but 🤷🏻♀️! I really think If you see just a single, solitary vote for it in the full data, know that it was me!
Footnotes
- Per the WSFS Constitution, clauses 3.8.2 and 3.8.3. ↩︎
- In addition to the more fannish post I linked above, I found another really cool essay about the Barbican as Coruscant from an architect who works in film and TV. ↩︎
- A special shoutout to Joshua James, who played the doctor who tortured Bix Caleen with the sounds of distant massacres; I’ve been a huge fan of his ever since I saw him in Treasure Island at the National Theatre back in 2015 or so, and make a point to see him in every play he’s in when I can. He had a stint as Dr Brenner in Stranger Things: The First Shadow recently which I unfortunately missed, but I bet he was perfect! ↩︎
- I’d like to thank Octothorpe’s Alison Scott for her recommendation to see the film in an IMAX theatre, as the experience was truly spectacular. ↩︎
- There is another Black Widow character played by Olga Kurilenko who turns up for literally five minutes, but she is so not present in the rest of the film that I’m not even going to go into it. If it weren’t for Yelena and Alexei, I’d say that movie had zero lasting impact on the MCU, given how late into Natasha’s journey we got it (literally after she was canonically killed off), lol (sarcastic). ↩︎
- I still don’t know how to feel about the plot twist around Krypton and Clark’s biological parents, brief as it was. I think it is intended to maximise the contrast between where Clark hails from and where he grew up and how that affected his identity, and the discomfort it creates is probably very intentional from Gunn. ↩︎
- I call this “pilot syndrome”, and it’s one of my least favourite phenomena in media. ↩︎
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Battle for the Ballot: Best Dramatic Presentation 2026
The two Best Dramatic Presentation categories are among my favourites in the Hugos, because I consume a lot of SFF media and have a lot of thoughts and feelings about them. Since my post last year about why I had wanted Loki S2 to win a Hugo in 2024 (which I was working on for a while but ended up not posting it in time for it to sway anyone), I’ve been toying with the idea of producing more writing around some of my favourite things from each year, in case it helps anybody—least of all me, in getting it all out of my system.
I know I’m posting this with one day to go before nominations (these take so long for me! I must develop a better system for next year 🤔), but I’m really writing this to sound out my own thoughts about the DP categories this year, because it is absolutely bananas with how stacked they both are. There have been some truly great speculative television shows and films, stuff that I’m sure we’ll still be talking about for years to come, and making decisions to boil my favourite media down to just 5 per category—especially given the fiddliness of Long Form and Short Form where TV is concerned, which I’ll get to in a sec—is going to be excruciatingly difficult for me.
So come along on a journey with me as I parse my thoughts, and who knows! Maybe I’ll argue my way to your heart about some of this, or tell you about something you hadn’t heard of before—some of which I’ve already written about before, but I’m getting ahead of myself!
Let me know what your ballot looks like, and if you’re nominating any of the below shows, films, and other dramatic works, or if you’re including other things entirely. I’m curious!
TV series and the Long Form/Short Form debate
A big question for many fen every year is “do I nominate one episode from a TV series that stands on its own or that adequately represents the show in Short Form, or do I nominate the whole season in Long Form because it’s one complete narrative, and isolating one chapter of it would be unfair?”
Understandably, it’s a tough one; when a show inevitably gets votes in both categories, it can lead to headaches for the Hugo Administrating Team as they have to sift through the numbers and ultimately decide which category it should be nominated in1, which I don’t envy at all. But at the same time, as a voter, I have to go with what my heart says and name my favourite episodes in Short Form, regardless of whether I’ve also named the show/season as a whole in Long Form, because if enough others have put that same episode down, then that’s what’ll make it through to the shortlist, and I would want my vote to count towards those totals.
All that to say: if you expected a clear stance from me on this, HA! I’m afraid I don’t have one 😇—and to be perfectly honest, this is exactly the sort of thing where people’s mileage will vary the most.
My personal method of deciding whether to nominate entire TV seasons rather than one specific episode is purely based on ~vibes~, on whether or not I thought the season works better in its totality than through its individual parts, versus cases where one outstanding episode eclipses all the others for me. Not all shows are written the same, of course, and those that favour a longer narrative arc (as a lot of prestige TV does nowadays) tend to find their way on my long form ballot more often than not, as opposed to the more episodic writing that isn’t as popular now but used to be ubiquitous in the pre-streaming era.
Ultimately, you may agree or disagree with me on my reasoning for some of my choices below, whether on the LF/SF question or my actual opinions of the various media, and that’s fair enough. I welcome discussion in the comments, but please keep it civil!
Jump to:
- Long Form: Entire TV Seasons
- Long Form: Films
- Long Form: Non-Film/TV
- Short Form: TV Episodes
- Short Form: Non-TV
Long Form: Entire TV Seasons
You might see episodes from some of these further down in the episode/short form discussion.
Andor, Season 2+
This is kind of my front-runner among the TV seasons for the Long Form category. Overall, I enjoyed it slightly more than season 1 for a few reasons: first of all, the pacing was much more even, with a little bit more action and intrigue peppered throughout the season as opposed to having several quieter mini-arcs that slowed things down in places; and crucially, there was a lot less dithering from Cassian Andor, our reluctant protagonist, who finally comes into his own as a rebel after being passively tossed about this way and that in the first season. The agency he has in this one makes him much more interesting as a character, and brings him on the same level as other players in the budding rebellion front, like Mon Mothma and Luthen Rael. In fact, with all the different character arcs completed, Andor finally becomes what Rogue One always wanted to be: a testament to the great sacrifices necessary for revolution to take root.
I liked a lot of what went down in this season as tensions continued ramping up between the Empire and the Rebellion; the Ghorman subplot was outstanding, especially with Dedra and Cyril’s journeys as instruments of Imperial oppression and violence, as was Mon Mothma’s arc from quiet resistance financier to full-on political rebel on the run, with her heartbreaking arc where she realises the personal cost of rebellion. None of the individual episodes in season 2 came even close to the intensity or narrative brilliance of One Way Out, which was hands down my favourite episode of season 1, but that’s okay—I think this season works so much better in its totality, that I’ll be happy to nominate it wholesale.
I still need to re-watch Rogue One actually, to see if my (very mid) opinion on it changes at all, but ultimately I’m just really happy this show was made, and that it looked and felt amazing throughout. It’s probably my favourite Star Wars story, period, and I am so chuffed that so much of it was filmed in the UK (in locations I know and visit all the time, including my old workplace!2), and is full of incredibly talented and classically trained British theatre actors who fill the space with their physicality and make their performances memorable even in the smallest of roles3.
Severance, Season 2+
Another really strong contender for this category. If you ask me which TV show might win the LF Hugo between this, Andor, or Pluribus, my money would probably be on Severance, even if I personally prefer Andor thematically and Pluribus cinematically. There’s no doubt Severance is an absolute masterpiece of television—nay, of cinema—and the fact that the most anti-capitalist story of our time is coming directly from the big tech megacorp Apple is an irony that is as delicious as it is hilarious.
Aside from its bonkers world-building (which still has so many unanswered questions!), this season of Severance also dove pretty deep into its characters, whom we only got to know a bit in season 1. I don’t want to get too spoilery here, but there’s a handful of moments in this season that go SO HARD—particularly that one slow episode that everyone else hated for some reason, where we follow Patricia Arquette’s character as she goes to her dingy home town and fills us in on the cult lore around Lumon Industries, and of course the team building episode in which our intrepid heroes actually go outside, but it’s all weird in that trademark Lumon way where nothing really fully makes sense, and it leaves the viewer feeling uncomfortable, like something’s not quite aligned right.
But yeah, the world-building, man. It’s something else. I was glued to my screen and my mind was running a mile a minute trying to join the dots and figure out the answers to the show’s mysteries, much like our heroes consolidate memories refine macrodata—remember, the work is mysterious and important—and the excitement of getting it just before the show confirmed it was super fun. Yet, finally understanding what macrodata refinement is was actually a really tragic moment, and everything that happens after that made my heart break for the innies who are stuck living a half-life they can’t escape, on pain of death.
Ultimately, what I loved the most about the second season of Severance is its staunch anti-capitalist messaging that speaks to the average office worker today regardless of where they may be in the world, because corporate manipulation knows no borders:
- A job is a job, not a family.
- The company you work for does not deserve blind, cult-like loyalty.
- Your life is more than just work, and compartmentalising your work self and your out-of-work self might be a band-aid solution, but it doesn’t really work in the end.
- You are you, with all your complex layers of self, even if your corporate overlords (…or just your line manager 🤐) want you to think otherwise, or to act otherwise so you can fit into their office culture.
- Basically, it’s all dumb, and you deserve to live, not just to survive so you can punch your clock card and get meaningless little bonuses like finger traps or waffle parties.
This relatability is what keeps me hooked, and what I think elevates the show from pretty sci-fi to a classic of our times. It’s definitely got my vote.
Pluribus, Season 1+
God, talk about another cinematic masterpiece. When Breaking Bad/Better Call Saul‘s Vince Gilligan said he was working on a new show (which he was writing specifically for Rhea Seahorn to star in), I was crossing my fingers and my toes that it would be sci-fi, and Pluribus has completely blown my expectations out of the water. Not only does it mark Gilligan’s return to science fiction for the first time since The X-Files, but he brings his now-trademark cinematic visual language to it, full of tight choreography and nuanced subtext through visual and music cues, which is what made BB & BCS so special.
The result is an unnerving combination of horror, absurdist humour, and subtle world-building, centered around a complex character named Carol Sturka, who is one of only a few humans not to join the weird hive mind connection that takes over all other human beings on the planet, and doesn’t want to even entertain the idea. I’ve seen many reviews call her unlikable and unrelatable, and while the first part may be true (I was really tired of her contrarian nature in the first half of the season), I think there’s something more going on here than just a selfish white American woman who expects the world to move just for her.
The thing is, Vince Gilligan does not talk down to his audience; he expects us to keep up and to pick up what he’s putting down, whether that’s subtle digs at the publishing industry (it is truly hilarious to me that the protagonist of this show is an actual romantasy author!), not-so-subtle digs about community building and the harm humanity has done to the planet and to each other (particularly around resource distribution, iykyk), and questions about human nature that we are left to ponder: would you trade world peace for the complete flattening of human culture? Are we capable of retaining what makes us human while not actively harming the world around us, or each other? What is humanity, really, or human nature even?
Big stuff coming from an Apple TV show, once again; should I even be surprised at this point?
I think the long game of this show is going to be Carol’s character development from grumpy selfish miser to someone who genuinely cares about other people—a reverse Walter White, if you will. Gilligan is all about the narrative arc, and he has been known to deliver some of the best narrative arcs in TV ever, even if they take a while to stick the landing. I have faith that he is cooking something we haven’t even yet begun to poke at, if Better Call Saul is any indication, and between the already great writing and the show’s superlative production value, I think Pluribus is going to be a low-key modern classic. Vince has my vote, now and always.
My Hero Academia: The Final Season+
I wrote about this extensively in my Hugo ballot recommendations post a couple of months ago, so I’ll pull a quote from that as to why I loved it so much:
Y’all, what can I say: this has been my favourite anime of the last decade, and the fact it is ending has had me in my feelings for months. I’ve been deeply invested emotionally for many years, watching the simulcasts on the same day as the anime airs in Japan since around season 2, and this last season has been all payoff for almost ten years’ worth of story. Every Saturday from October 4th till December 13th, I tuned in and bawled my eyes out for 20 minutes straight, which for an anime aimed at teenage boys is an absolute feat. Defying every expectation, it stuck the landing for every little story beat, every subplot, and every theme set up over its ten year tenure perfectly, making it one of my absolute favourite stories in the superhero genre.
This is definitely one of those where context is essential, so I don’t think it can be viewed in a vacuum and appreciated to the same extent as having watched all previous seven seasons. You can try, but it wouldn’t be worth it just for the awards. Just watch the show so the ending can hit you like a ton of bricks in the best way possible, even if you miss the deadline. It’s fun, it’s moving, it’s made with so much love for American comics through a uniquely Japanese perspective. I can’t recommend it enough, and it’ll definitely be on my Long Form ballot even if I’m one of ten people who put it there 🤷🏻♀️
Honourable mentions/near misses+
- Silo, Season 2: It’s definitely not as tight as season 1, and it was missing some stuff from the books that may well turn up in season 3. For what it’s worth, there’s a lot I enjoyed about this season, but unfortunately it’s simply weaker when Rebecca Ferguson’s Juliette isn’t on screen, and there’s a lot of that unfortunately. I’m certainly looking forward to what season 3 will be adapting, and to see what format that will take, as I think they’re either condensing or axing the second half of book 2 to go straight to the dual narrative of book 3, which I have mixed feelings about.
- Murderbot: I never got into the books because of tonal whiplash (MB’s violence and misanthropy coated in dry humour just didn’t work for me), and while I thought the TV show was a little better in that regard, ultimately I thought the show was just okay. I didn’t actively dislike it, mind, but I watched most of it on a plane ride, didn’t finish it, and haven’t felt like picking it back up since. The story just doesn’t grab me, I think, and I never felt particularly attached to or compelled by any of the characters… and I’m okay with that 🤷🏻♀️. Not everything is for everyone! I expect it’ll be mass-nominated by all the book fans anyway based on the online discourse I’ve seen, so it won’t miss my vote.
- Invasion, Season 3: I didn’t even know this was out, lmao! I was deeply invested while watching seasons 1 and 2 (even though I disliked quite a few of the characters), but as soon as I was done with it I promptly forgot about it—and Apple TV didn’t even let me know that it was back on. Whomst can I shake until they fix the marketing situation over there?! Christ on a cracker!
- Stranger Things, Season 5: To my own surprise, I didn’t like this season nearly as much as season 4, let alone season 1, and so I will not be considering it for the Long Form category (including the last episode, which would qualify under Long Form on its own due to being 128 MINUTES LONG 🙄). It’s turned out to be one of those things where, while I enjoyed it a fair bit in the moment, the longer I think about it the more my feelings about it seem to change, and the ending has left me a bit… conflicted, shall we say. But it did have some great episodes in the middle especially, so I will consider a couple of them in the Short Form category.
Long Form: Films
Sinners+
This was probably my favourite SFF film of last year. Not only is it atmospheric, fun, and lush with cross-border folkloric world-building (Hoodoo magic and Irish vampires?! yes please!), but the story touches so many themes that a regular popcorn movie won’t even veer towards, and it does so brilliantly.
All the many layers of the Black and POC experience in the South during the Prohibition era (and beyond) are crystallised in the character arc of each ensemble cast member, with some absolutely outstanding performances by Hailee Steinfeld (whose character Mary is biracial, and torn between safety and belonging), Michael B. Jordan (who plays identical twins Smoke and Stack so well he walked away with an Oscar for it), and Wunmi Mosaku in particular as Smoke’s wife Annie (she’s such an underrated performer, but I’m so glad to see her actually flex her acting skills after her appearance in Loki). We’re talking themes like the push and pull of religion and its role in both keeping communities together and also oppressing them, the safety of BIPOC in a white supremacist society, and even the immigrant experience… the truth is your average blockbuster would never—but this is Ryan Coogler, and he won’t sugar-coat things for a mainstream audience, instead telling a story only he could tell, filled with truth, complexity, and nuance, something I really wish more filmmakers would embrace nowadays.
The film’s protagonist, Sammie (Miles Caton) has a preternatural gift with music, and the plot revolves around a juke joint Smoke and Stack put together, and the connection that music can create across time and even culture—with a wonderful supernatural twist.
One of my favourite moments is when the villain Remmick (an immortal Irish vampire played by Jack O’Connell) turns up at their juke joint and cries with joy at the emotions Sammie’s music has brought him after years of numbness. He talks about his own experience of colonialism at the hands of the British Empire and the subsequent erasure of Irish culture through the centuries, which is a very real thing—but he’s also a predator who has been making his way through the land trying to trap people and turn them into vampires, chased away by indigenous people who could tell he was a monster before attacking a couple who are Klan members. It’s clear that he doesn’t want Sammie’s music in order to connect people, but to use it as a tool on his quest to propagate a vampire race, and that seemingly sweet moment of connection is exposed as the performative allyship that it is.
There are some phenomenal action sequences too, with the last third of the film keeping me on the edge of my IMAX seat4. Genuinely, this film was such a breath of fresh air: delightfully complex but also fun, in ways that cinema just doesn’t dare to be right now. I was sad they didn’t win all the awards they were up for, but perhaps we can give it a Hugo instead.
Frankenstein+
©️ Netflix 2025I have a full review of this here, but basically: the SFF-ness of this is lush, as expected from a Guillermo Del Toro movie, and for the most part it works well as an adaptation of the book. As I mention in my other post, it doesn’t quite reach the heights of the NT’s theatre adaptation, which I still consider the ultimate version of this story, but it does similar things with the characters as Penny Dreadful, which is my runner-up favourite, save for the very end, and it’s that ending that makes the whole thing fall short for me, unfortunately.
To quote myself:
Why do we sing sad songs, when we know their ending is unhappy? When our instinctual yearning for a happy ending is met with the inevitability of human flaws getting in the way, that emotional release we experience is what my ancestors called catharsis. As the audience we accept that because of who these characters are, they would always make these choices and lead the story to the same outcome, time and again, even though we’d like them to change, to choose better, so they can be happy in the end.
What makes Frankenstein compelling in any iteration is its core conflict: Victor’s refusal to acknowledge the Creature as human, despite the fact that the Creature is deeply human, as much as his creator would like to think otherwise. We are invited to empathise with the Creature’s plight, to see how he thinks and feels, how he desires things we all do: safety, friendship, love. Victor is incapable of recognising this, and so the two clash eternally. Such is the tragedy, and no matter what minor changes are made to it, the good adaptations always recognise the impasse between the two at the end. It’s what makes the story tick.
My ultimate issue with the way Del Toro chose to end his adaptation of Frankenstein is that it ultimately robs us of our deserved catharsis by artificially resolving the incontrovertible stalemate between the two leads, giving us a happy(ish) ending in which Victor, at death’s door, forgives the Creature for the violence and destruction he’s wrought, apologises for what he did to him, and urges him to live on, free of guilt, yet completely alone. The Creature then walks off into the Arctic sunrise, liberated from his vendetta yet devastated at losing his creator.
It’s a lovely thought in principle, a Del Toro-ism about accepting one’s nature and walking away from one’s painful past, and if it were an original story without baggage I’d be all for it—after all, The Shape of Water had similar, pro-monster themes of letting go of trying to fit into a world that won’t accept you anyway, and I ate that up voraciously. But here, in taking a tragedy that is so classic and ingrained, loading it with a bunch of new traumas and subplots, and then resolving it all with a little monologue, the ending robs the story of its true conclusion, fundamentally missing the point of the source text, and doing a disservice both to Victor and the Creature.
I still think it’s a strong contender in the category, and definitely one of my favourite SFF movies I saw last year, despite my issues with it. However, given all my favourite TV shows above, I think I might eschew giving this one of my ballot spots, but I won’t be disappointed to see it on the final ballot, should it make it through.
Thunderbolts*+
I loved this movie A LOT, you guys, and it made me very sad that it flopped at the box office. I don’t blame people for being fatigued with Marvel’s mediocre superhero slop, but they should have given this movie a chance at the very least, because it might not have been the movie we wanted, but it was definitely the movie we needed right now.
(c) Disney/Marvel Studios, 2025I was very surprised with how deep it went into the trauma our various superheroes and anti-heroes have sustained through their previous adventures, and the level of empathy with which it treated them all:
- Yelena Belova, the last surviving Black Widow5, starts off depressed and morose, aimless, dissatisfied with running around and blowing things up for people with nothing to show for it except a path of destruction.
- Her and Natasha Romanoff’s father figure, Alexei Shostakov, is facing the music that his “Red Star” superhero persona is nothing but a figment of a bygone era, and is living a meagre life as a limo driver while reminiscing about his glory days.
- John Walker, the temporary Captain America replacement later dubbed “U.S. Agent”, is dealing with guilt after slaughtering innocent bystanders using Cap’s vibranium shield during the events of The Falcon and the Winter Soldier, all while struggling through early parenthood.
- The Winter Soldier—Bucky Barnes—is running for office, in an attempt to turn his newfound and shaky inner peace into something productive. Yet, something keeps niggling at him about the power vacuum left in the wake of the Avengers disappearing, and he can’t help but get involved in ways political candidates really shouldn’t. See: taking a huge machine gun and riding a motorbike out to the desert to find out who is behind these shenanigans. Tut tut, Mr Congressman.
- Oh, there’s also Ava Star/Ghost from Ant-Man and the Wasp, probably my least favourite Marvel movie to date, whom I completely forgot about before watching this movie and while writing this review. Oops! Her thing is that she is constantly phasing in and out of a solid existence, and she has to keep shouting about how traumatised she is with no need for subtext because they know we’ve all forgotten about her and need to be reminded of her struggles. Normally I’d be mad at that, but they are not wrong this time 😅
And then, there’s Bob.
(c) Disney/Marvel, 2025Bob is a new guy, recruited to be experimented on in hopes of becoming a superhero. He seems normal, average even, and he reluctantly joins our motley crew as they escape from a trap set by their employer—but under the surface he carries a deep wound, a gash that opens up to swallow him whole and turns him into The Void, his mysterious alter ego who awakens when Bob’s absolutely OTT superpowers kick in. The rest, as they say, is plot.
There’s a lot of (predictably dark) humour in this, and I was surprised with how much I liked these characters once they were given enough room to be protagonists, rather than minor antagonists in someone else’s story. While they haphazardly join forces into a makeshift team, their trauma is taken seriously, coalescing into the film’s climactic battle that pits the reluctant heroes against The Void, who weaponises each of their subconscious against them. The Void is Depression, by any other name—it’s the dark voice inside that tells each of our anti-heroes that they are worthless, unlovable, guilty, and alone. In order to beat him they have to reach out with empathy to themselves first and then to each other, and literally hold each other in a tight embrace as a reminder that they are not alone. What wins the day is friendship, empathy, and love, not unlike the last season of My Hero Academia, which I also loved last year, or Superman, which I’m about to get into below.
I cried BUCKETS while watching Thunderbolts* in the UK’s largest IMAX screen alongside my Bucky Barnes-obsessed friend, who has since made this film her entire personality (affectionate), and honestly, I’ve also been thinking about it ever since. Again, it’s a delightful little irony that the megalithic Disney/MCU would come out with a narrative so introspective and empathetic, especially at a time that loneliness and isolation is rampant among the film’s core audience of young men. I really hope that watching this film inspired people to reach out and be less alone in their struggles, and that the financial hit Disney took with it won’t keep us from seeing more of these characters in the future.
Also! A fun fact I noticed while listening to the soundtrack was that the film’s main theme is a reversed version of the main Avengers theme; just listen to the first few seconds of both themes and you’ll hear it:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8-Jzgp1jNiQ
Superman+
A good Superman movie?? In this economy?? Hallelujah!
I love a lot about what this film does with the core Superman premise. It gets Clark right, down to his farm boy roots and dorky kindness. It gets Superman right: his power isn’t unbeatable, and it isn’t even the most powerful thing about him (spoiler: it’s the dorky kindness). It gets Lex Luthor right—especially for our times—by having him be a smart but petty tech billionaire with an overinflated ego, someone who funds an invasion and even starts a pocket dimension on a whim, without once thinking of the consequences. It even gets Jimmy Olsen right simply by bringing him out of the margins where he’s been relegated for the last several Superman adaptations—and it’s actually really funny that he’s the one guy with the most game in this film, and that that’s how he gets to help out.
The structure of the film is an absolute delight, too. From the very start, we are thrown into the midst of a losing fight for Superman, which is a bold choice, as is having Clark’s relationship with Lois Lane already set up (and she even knows about him being Superman!). We don’t spend any time whatsoever on origin stories, budding relationship exploration, or long-winded exposition—we simply hit the ground running, and find out the particulars as we go along. It is assumed we know who Superman is, because… we all know who Superman is. And the themes around identity, responsibility, community, and how we should treat each other are laid bare without pretence, very directly speaking to the audience about contemporary problems we’re all facing day to day. It’s a genuine breath of fresh air not to be treated like an idiot, frankly.
There are a couple of things I don’t like about it though. For one, the film feels very busy, with so many characters and subplots and easter eggs thrown in, that if you blink you’ll definitely miss something. Relatedly, not all of those characters or subplots are treated equally, because there simply isn’t enough screen time to go around for everything. So the Justice Friends get the short shrift, as do Papa and Mama Kent, as does Krypton6, so that we can focus on the personal and political stakes that Clark/Superman has to overcome.
This is another superhero story with empathy at its heart, where the answer to even the most cosmic problems is… just be kind. Kindness is punk rock. As one of my favourite YouTube video essayists put it, this Superman is the American hero we desperately need right now. Someone who will stand up for what’s right even when the rest of the world tells him not to, someone with an unshakeable moral compass that only points to goodness. Watch that whole video actually, Dove does such a fantastic job analysing the cultural geography that plays into this film, and how it all ties together to bring us this ray of f*cking sunshine:
All this to say, I love that James Gunn can make a superhero movie that aims to appeal broadly but doesn’t feel like it panders to the lowest available denominator, and that he had the guts to (a) make the story feel relevant to our current times, what with all the invasions/”wars” going on right now that are purely happening for profit and that no one is doing anything to stop 🙄, and (b) leave us with a message of hope, that we can imagine a kinder world and that we can be the instruments of making that vision a reality. That kindness can be punk rock.
Dare I say, this was the movie that made me go, “huh, maybe the genre isn’t dead yet”, which… please, let it not be dead, I really like superheroes!
Honourable mentions/near misses+
- Mickey 17: I enjoyed this a lot, particularly for its world-building and Robert Pattinson’s performance. Unfortunately I think the Bong Joon-Ho-ness of it all kind of undercuts the story in favour of very on-the-nose political commentary, which was fun in the moment but in retrospect kinda leaves me a bit… “meh!”, probably because the current climate is so much worse than when this movie was made, and making fun of things/people just isn’t enough right now. So I don’t think this will be getting one of my spots, but it’s still totally worth seeing, if you haven’t!
- Fantastic Four – First Steps: I also enjoyed this a lot, especially in light of B-Mask’s excellent Fantastic Four video from a few years back which explained the classic comics and got me up to speed on the characters. It’s an honest-to-God decent, good Marvel movie, which as I keep saying is a rare sight these days, but that being said… I liked the stuff I talked about up top way more than this one, not to mention the TV seasons, so I just think it gets edged out by the competition.
- Hamnet: Technically an SFF movie! The trailer had me weeping, but the movie left me cold somehow, perhaps because it’s a little too obvious in its attempts to make people cry (Mark Kermode said it best! The bit with the song at the very end irked me too because I recognised it, and the moment was actually completely ruined for me.) It does have some wonderful and atmospheric visuals where it comes to the speculative aspect of it, and the soundtrack by Max Richter is predictably phenomenal (if only they’d used his original song for the climactic ending of the film!!), but it just didn’t move me in the ways I thought it would, so it’s a miss.
The “I haven’t seen these yet” caveat+
- K-Pop Demon Hunters: Yes, I know, somehow, I still haven’t seen this movie. I’m assuming it’ll get nominated to high heaven, so I’ll watch it ahead of voting, I promise.
- Weapons: I’ve heard fantastic things about this, and my husband is a big WKUK fan, so I might be watching this soon and revising my thoughts.
- Wicked: For Good: I liked the first film well enough, and I hear that a LOT happens in the second half of the musical, so I’m tentatively putting this on a hold list until I watch it. I don’t know if it would edge out any of my favourites, realistically speaking, but I suppose there is always room for surprises!
Long Form: Non-Film/TV
B-Mask’s “The REAL Thunderbolts Story: Marvel’s Greatest Scam“*
This is a 2.5 hour love letter to comics, and the first in a five-part series that tells the story of the real Thunderbolts from the comic books (a team that bears very little resemblance to the one portrayed in the recent MCU film discussed above). It features complex animations drawing from the original comic book art, as well as a full cast of voice actors bringing the characters to life with their performances.
* I’m personally torn on whether this would qualify for BDP-LF or BRW (seeing as it is technically a fanwork, and not an original work), but either way it is nothing short of a masterpiece—I wrote more about it in my 2025 underrated Hugo picks post, if you’re interested.
Short Form: TV Episodes
A caveat: my reasoning around nominating a particular episode is kind of like nominating my favourite chapter of a novel. Especially with how a lot of the prestige TV shows are made nowadays, individual episodes function as chapters in a longer story, so they have to be considered in the context of the wider narrative they’re a part of. If they are from a second, third, or even last season of a long-running show, even more so.
Also—and this might be a slightly spicy take—I personally don’t like that a lot of Hugo voters seem to only watch the individual episodes on the eventual shortlist without any context, and then complain that they didn’t get what was going on. That’s because context matters, and while I understand that it would take a lot of time to watch an entire season (or even several!) to be able to appreciate a single episode… if you want your vote to be informed, that’s the job, innit?
This has happened several times to me, where there’s an episode on the shortlist from a show I don’t watch (and have no intention of watching—sorry Lower Decks), so I just skip it and don’t put it in my ballot at the end, or rank it below my own favourites. I do the same with sequels to books I haven’t read, out of respect for the work itself as well as its author, but that’s just me I guess! 🤷🏻♀️
Anyway, here are some thoughts about my favourite episodes of speculative TV from this year, under spoiler tags for obvious reasons.
Two episodes from Stranger Things, Season 5+
‘Chapter Four: Sorcerer’
I loved, loved, loved this episode. The moment Will uses his new power… it gave me goosebumps, it was so good—and the fight sequence in front of the gate to the Upside Down is incredible. Rather than the writing, though, I want to praise the actors’ performances and the work of the crew who worked on the practical effects, stunts, and complicated cinematography in this episode. Especially given more recent revelations about how the Duffers went into production with season 5 without having ironed out the ending, and the stress that added to the poor production crew, I think any flowers should really be going to them for making such an outstanding piece of TV despite the challenges.
‘Chapter Six: Escape from Camazotz’
Yes, the scene in this photo feels a little ludicrously long considering they’re both on the run and about to be caught by the Big Bad, but I loved the heart of this relationship and the character development for both Holly and Max in this episode. I had also seen the Stranger Things play in London a couple of years back, and this episode eliminated the issues I had with the world-building in that, which at first had seemed to contradict the revelations in season 4 about Vecna/Henry Creel’s agency as a villain and his role in shaping the Upside Down… I was glad to see that in fact all the loose threads from the various seasons did connect, and that the strands from the play were relevant too.
Various episodes from Severance, Season 2+
S2E4: ‘Woe’s Hollow’
I mentioned this episode in my discussion of the series earlier, but let me get into it here: this is one of the best episodes of TV ever made, period, and I will fight you on this. I don’t know if it would stand alone in any capacity, considering the weird tone is already a lot to deal with and there’s a lot of plot and character interaction that picks up from where the last season left off, not to mention a big-time betrayal that ends up echoing through the rest of season 2.
I spent a good chunk of the beginning wondering if this was a simulator or a dream sequence because it didn’t fully make sense for our protagonists to be outside the Lumon offices, and the uncanny doppelgangers guiding them through the forest seemed almost dreamlike, but the reality was much more sinister in the end, which tracks. If there’s a single episode from this show I’d nominate, it’d be this one.
S2E8: ‘Sweet Vitriol’
People hate this episode because it’s slow and follows an unlikeable antagonist whom we are invited to empathise with, and that’s precisely the reason I like it. First of all, we get way more insight into the Lumon cult corporation from Harmony Cobel, who ostensibly grew up in the cult and has invested her whole life into the company’s welfare. This is also where we begin to see cracks form in her resolve as an antagonist, as she has realised that the company sees her as an expendable cog despite her lifelong investment and dedication, and so she decides to fight them, to prove that this little cog is actually so important, it might well bring the whole house down.
It’s interesting also for thematic reasons, outside of the show’s world. On an individual level, the image of someone who grew up in poverty while idolising a particular company, then making their entire life revolve around it so as to gain favour and socioeconomic mobility, gaining that and then losing it when the company no longer sees them as valuable, is unfortunately too relatable. So is seeing a small town that once had its own industry and community be taken over by a mega corporation and become completely dependent on it, eventually falling into destitution once the corporation pulls their activities out of the town. The actual commentary here is silent, but extremely powerful.
I don’t think Cobel’s about-turn is enough to fully make her an anti-hero, but I really enjoyed this episode for all the insight it gave us both into her and the world of Severance outside of Lumon HQ.
S2E10: ‘Cold Harbor’
There is a strong argument to be made that the season two finale is absolutely worth a nomination as well, making this a really tough choice. Two seasons’ worth of mystery solving and internal corporate espionage culminate in this one-hour episode where our protagonists clash with one another and with the antagonists, and it’s just adrenaline all the way down.
Some spoilery thoughts here.While the big questions have been answered (where is Mark’s wife? what is Cold Harbor? what are they doing with all those sheep?), so many more remain. Is there a way to save the innies at all, if Lumon ends up falling? Can Mark S. and Helly R. ever hope to have a life outside these walls? And what happens to Gemma now that she’s out, even though she has 24 distinct, hand-crafted personalities inside her?
There’s actually a great take I hadn’t come across before I sat down to write this, and that is that the finale actually inverts the Orpheus & Eurydice narrative of Mark and Gemma, by having Mark’s innie actually choose to stay behind in Lumon so he can be with Helly. It’s less of a lack of faith and more of a conscious decision, which perhaps makes it even more tragic as Gemma watches her husband (sort of) run toward danger and another woman, leaving her alone at the exit, screaming for him to come back.
Having written about the other episodes already, I do think ep4 is a stronger contender purely from a craft/vibes standpoint, whereas the finale is more typical in many ways, as it focuses on exposition and plot and is faster paced. YMMV here, for sure, but I’m inclined to pick ep4 over this one, now that I think about it.
Two episodes from Pluribus, Season 1+
Episode 1: “We is Us”
It’s not often that a TV pilot stands on its own two feet well. It’s even less common for the film-making to be so good that one must gasp in awe at the choreography, cinematography, and editing, multiple times throughout the course of the episode. One of my biggest peeves is when a TV pilot is so mired in exposition that there is no room for characters or atmosphere until the next episode because they simply have to give you the setup quickly—it ends up feeling flat and boring and frankly, it puts me off more than it entices me to keep watching until it gets better.7
Well, this episode does none of that.
Gilligan’s forte is silent scenes that actually speak volumes. There is so much storytelling in this episode that has no words; we watch an intergalactic viral hive mind sequence take over the Earth in perfectly synchronised movement, and the storytelling is in the silence, the perfect unison, and the eerie smiles as the hive mind consciousness flattens the individuals inside. A lesser writer would put exposition in dialogue, possibly giving too much information for where we are in the story, but Gilligan knows that less is more. We get just enough to hook us in, and the rest is pure atmosphere and of course, character.
Carol is introduced as a grumpy romantasy author, a lesbian in a loving relationship who constantly finds reasons to be miserable, much to her partner’s chagrin. When the hive mind sequence is spread via planes in the air, Carol loses her partner, and simultaneously the world. The panic that ensues is completely understandable, and it gets worse at every turn as she is met with more and more hive mind people, but no one else like her. What a place for a pilot to leave us in! Aren’t you hooked just by reading this?? GO WATCH THIS SHOW!
Episode 7: “The Gap”
The title refers to a real place that Manousos (pictured) has to cross, but also I suppose to the gap between Carol and others at this point in the show. This is another masterfully crafted episode with a dual narrative point of view, where Carol continues her life in Albuquerque while Manousos is making his slow way up through South and Central America towards Carol, crossing cities, climbing mountains, and trudging through thick, treacherous jungles, all while refusing the hive mind’s help at every opportunity.
Some spoilery thoughts here.At first, it’s admirable; he won’t even take gas without paying for it somehow, even though everything he comes across is at his disposal. Soon enough, however, his steadfastness turns into stubbornness that does more harm to him than good. When he gets seriously injured in the jungle (something that was completely preventable, had he accepted the hive mind’s help and transited through safer means),
Meanwhile, Carol stoically endures complete and total isolation for a long time as a result of the hive mind evacuating the whole metro area of Albuquerque, which happened when Carol hurt one of them (and by extension, all of them) quite badly while trying to find answers. She is given resources and sustenance remotely, and for a while enjoys her peaceful environment, going around town and doing whatever she feels like… until she finally cracks under the pressure of extreme loneliness, and asks the hive mind to come back.
It’s an incredibly powerful moment actually, seeing someone as stubborn sturdy as Carol finally admit that she can’t live her whole life completely cut off from other people, even though she hates the hive mind on principle, and can’t wrap her mind around accepting this status quo. In fairness, she makes it to about a month and a half, which is pretty long, but her isolation was also so complete that there were zero people around her for that whole time—an unfathomable experience that’s so well depicted on screen. I personally love the rooftop golf scene as an example of how utterly devoid of people the landscape is, a mundane sort of post-apocalyptic image.
This is probably my favourite episode in season 1, and even think it could be presented without context and still mostly work alright for new viewers… Though I’d still hope that people would watch the whole season anyway. If I had to pick one episode to represent the series as a whole, I’d say it’s this one.
Short Form: Non-TV
‘Songs No One Will Hear’ by Arjen Lucassen (music album)
I wrote a fair amount about this pre-apocalyptic concept album in my underrated Hugo recommendations post; here’s a snippet:
The result is an album that grapples with the essence of the human condition (something Lucassen is very adept at), asking what makes life worth living from the perspectives of a bunch of different characters as they try to come to terms with the impending end of the world—including those who think it’s all a hoax, those who embrace it, and those who rage against the dying of the light. It straddles a weird and fun line between diegetic/in-world music that’s on the radio and telling the story as a sung-through musical, which is a little different than what you might expect, particularly for a progressive rock album. But that’s the Arjen Lucassen guarantee: big questions, big emotions, and a sound that isn’t afraid to change dramatically when necessary, even mid-song. Full of theatricality, Songs No One Will Hear is in some ways very similar to Lucassen’s Ayreon albums, but retains its own identity both musically and thematically.
We’ve been known to nominate SFF music albums when they arise, and on occasion those musicians have even responded to being recognised by fandom—seeing Clipping live in Helsinki was fun!—so this wouldn’t be out of the realm of possibility, though perhaps it is a bit of a left field suggestion for most Hugo voters as a progressive rock concept album.
While he’s extremely popular in his own niche, most of Lucassen’s fans aren’t in SF fandom and vice versa, something that I would love to help shift by talking about his work more to Hugo voters and talking to Ayreon/Lucassen fans more about joining our community and coming to Worldcon, especially as the next few years are looking quite international. Lucassen’s very obvious Golden Age influences are bound to have pointed many of his fans to the genre, so the bridge is already half-built.
I’m sure that I’ll be one of very few people longlisting this album, but 🤷🏻♀️! I really think If you see just a single, solitary vote for it in the full data, know that it was me!
Footnotes
- Per the WSFS Constitution, clauses 3.8.2 and 3.8.3. ↩︎
- In addition to the more fannish post I linked above, I found another really cool essay about the Barbican as Coruscant from an architect who works in film and TV. ↩︎
- A special shoutout to Joshua James, who played the doctor who tortured Bix Caleen with the sounds of distant massacres; I’ve been a huge fan of his ever since I saw him in Treasure Island at the National Theatre back in 2015 or so, and make a point to see him in every play he’s in when I can. He had a stint as Dr Brenner in Stranger Things: The First Shadow recently which I unfortunately missed, but I bet he was perfect! ↩︎
- I’d like to thank Octothorpe’s Alison Scott for her recommendation to see the film in an IMAX theatre, as the experience was truly spectacular. ↩︎
- There is another Black Widow character played by Olga Kurilenko who turns up for literally five minutes, but she is so not present in the rest of the film that I’m not even going to go into it. If it weren’t for Yelena and Alexei, I’d say that movie had zero lasting impact on the MCU, given how late into Natasha’s journey we got it (literally after she was canonically killed off), lol (sarcastic). ↩︎
- I still don’t know how to feel about the plot twist around Krypton and Clark’s biological parents, brief as it was. I think it is intended to maximise the contrast between where Clark hails from and where he grew up and how that affected his identity, and the discomfort it creates is probably very intentional from Gunn. ↩︎
- I call this “pilot syndrome”, and it’s one of my least favourite phenomena in media. ↩︎
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Battle for the Ballot: Best Dramatic Presentation 2026
The two Best Dramatic Presentation categories are among my favourites in the Hugos, because I consume a lot of SFF media and have a lot of thoughts and feelings about them. Since my post last year about why I had wanted Loki S2 to win a Hugo in 2024 (which I was working on for a while but ended up not posting it in time for it to sway anyone), I’ve been toying with the idea of producing more writing around some of my favourite things from each year, in case it helps anybody—least of all me, in getting it all out of my system.
I know I’m posting this with one day to go before nominations (these take so long for me! I must develop a better system for next year 🤔), but I’m really writing this to sound out my own thoughts about the DP categories this year, because it is absolutely bananas with how stacked they both are. There have been some truly great speculative television shows and films, stuff that I’m sure we’ll still be talking about for years to come, and making decisions to boil my favourite media down to just 5 per category—especially given the fiddliness of Long Form and Short Form where TV is concerned, which I’ll get to in a sec—is going to be excruciatingly difficult for me.
So come along on a journey with me as I parse my thoughts, and who knows! Maybe I’ll argue my way to your heart about some of this, or tell you about something you hadn’t heard of before—some of which I’ve already written about before, but I’m getting ahead of myself!
Let me know what your ballot looks like, and if you’re nominating any of the below shows, films, and other dramatic works, or if you’re including other things entirely. I’m curious!
TV series and the Long Form/Short Form debate
A big question for many fen every year is “do I nominate one episode from a TV series that stands on its own or that adequately represents the show in Short Form, or do I nominate the whole season in Long Form because it’s one complete narrative, and isolating one chapter of it would be unfair?”
Understandably, it’s a tough one; when a show inevitably gets votes in both categories, it can lead to headaches for the Hugo Administrating Team as they have to sift through the numbers and ultimately decide which category it should be nominated in1, which I don’t envy at all. But at the same time, as a voter, I have to go with what my heart says and name my favourite episodes in Short Form, regardless of whether I’ve also named the show/season as a whole in Long Form, because if enough others have put that same episode down, then that’s what’ll make it through to the shortlist, and I would want my vote to count towards those totals.
All that to say: if you expected a clear stance from me on this, HA! I’m afraid I don’t have one 😇—and to be perfectly honest, this is exactly the sort of thing where people’s mileage will vary the most.
My personal method of deciding whether to nominate entire TV seasons rather than one specific episode is purely based on ~vibes~, on whether or not I thought the season works better in its totality than through its individual parts, versus cases where one outstanding episode eclipses all the others for me. Not all shows are written the same, of course, and those that favour a longer narrative arc (as a lot of prestige TV does nowadays) tend to find their way on my long form ballot more often than not, as opposed to the more episodic writing that isn’t as popular now but used to be ubiquitous in the pre-streaming era.
Ultimately, you may agree or disagree with me on my reasoning for some of my choices below, whether on the LF/SF question or my actual opinions of the various media, and that’s fair enough. I welcome discussion in the comments, but please keep it civil!
Jump to:
- Long Form: Entire TV Seasons
- Long Form: Films
- Long Form: Non-Film/TV
- Short Form: TV Episodes
- Short Form: Non-TV
Long Form: Entire TV Seasons
You might see episodes from some of these further down in the episode/short form discussion.
Andor, Season 2+
This is kind of my front-runner among the TV seasons for the Long Form category. Overall, I enjoyed it slightly more than season 1 for a few reasons: first of all, the pacing was much more even, with a little bit more action and intrigue peppered throughout the season as opposed to having several quieter mini-arcs that slowed things down in places; and crucially, there was a lot less dithering from Cassian Andor, our reluctant protagonist, who finally comes into his own as a rebel after being passively tossed about this way and that in the first season. The agency he has in this one makes him much more interesting as a character, and brings him on the same level as other players in the budding rebellion front, like Mon Mothma and Luthen Rael. In fact, with all the different character arcs completed, Andor finally becomes what Rogue One always wanted to be: a testament to the great sacrifices necessary for revolution to take root.
I liked a lot of what went down in this season as tensions continued ramping up between the Empire and the Rebellion; the Ghorman subplot was outstanding, especially with Dedra and Cyril’s journeys as instruments of Imperial oppression and violence, as was Mon Mothma’s arc from quiet resistance financier to full-on political rebel on the run, with her heartbreaking arc where she realises the personal cost of rebellion. None of the individual episodes in season 2 came even close to the intensity or narrative brilliance of One Way Out, which was hands down my favourite episode of season 1, but that’s okay—I think this season works so much better in its totality, that I’ll be happy to nominate it wholesale.
I still need to re-watch Rogue One actually, to see if my (very mid) opinion on it changes at all, but ultimately I’m just really happy this show was made, and that it looked and felt amazing throughout. It’s probably my favourite Star Wars story, period, and I am so chuffed that so much of it was filmed in the UK (in locations I know and visit all the time, including my old workplace!2), and is full of incredibly talented and classically trained British theatre actors who fill the space with their physicality and make their performances memorable even in the smallest of roles3.
Severance, Season 2+
Another really strong contender for this category. If you ask me which TV show might win the LF Hugo between this, Andor, or Pluribus, my money would probably be on Severance, even if I personally prefer Andor thematically and Pluribus cinematically. There’s no doubt Severance is an absolute masterpiece of television—nay, of cinema—and the fact that the most anti-capitalist story of our time is coming directly from the big tech megacorp Apple is an irony that is as delicious as it is hilarious.
Aside from its bonkers world-building (which still has so many unanswered questions!), this season of Severance also dove pretty deep into its characters, whom we only got to know a bit in season 1. I don’t want to get too spoilery here, but there’s a handful of moments in this season that go SO HARD—particularly that one slow episode that everyone else hated for some reason, where we follow Patricia Arquette’s character as she goes to her dingy home town and fills us in on the cult lore around Lumon Industries, and of course the team building episode in which our intrepid heroes actually go outside, but it’s all weird in that trademark Lumon way where nothing really fully makes sense, and it leaves the viewer feeling uncomfortable, like something’s not quite aligned right.
But yeah, the world-building, man. It’s something else. I was glued to my screen and my mind was running a mile a minute trying to join the dots and figure out the answers to the show’s mysteries, much like our heroes consolidate memories refine macrodata—remember, the work is mysterious and important—and the excitement of getting it just before the show confirmed it was super fun. Yet, finally understanding what macrodata refinement is was actually a really tragic moment, and everything that happens after that made my heart break for the innies who are stuck living a half-life they can’t escape, on pain of death.
Ultimately, what I loved the most about the second season of Severance is its staunch anti-capitalist messaging that speaks to the average office worker today regardless of where they may be in the world, because corporate manipulation knows no borders:
- A job is a job, not a family.
- The company you work for does not deserve blind, cult-like loyalty.
- Your life is more than just work, and compartmentalising your work self and your out-of-work self might be a band-aid solution, but it doesn’t really work in the end.
- You are you, with all your complex layers of self, even if your corporate overlords (…or just your line manager 🤐) want you to think otherwise, or to act otherwise so you can fit into their office culture.
- Basically, it’s all dumb, and you deserve to live, not just to survive so you can punch your clock card and get meaningless little bonuses like finger traps or waffle parties.
This relatability is what keeps me hooked, and what I think elevates the show from pretty sci-fi to a classic of our times. It’s definitely got my vote.
Pluribus, Season 1+
God, talk about another cinematic masterpiece. When Breaking Bad/Better Call Saul‘s Vince Gilligan said he was working on a new show (which he was writing specifically for Rhea Seahorn to star in), I was crossing my fingers and my toes that it would be sci-fi, and Pluribus has completely blown my expectations out of the water. Not only does it mark Gilligan’s return to science fiction for the first time since The X-Files, but he brings his now-trademark cinematic visual language to it, full of tight choreography and nuanced subtext through visual and music cues, which is what made BB & BCS so special.
The result is an unnerving combination of horror, absurdist humour, and subtle world-building, centered around a complex character named Carol Sturka, who is one of only a few humans not to join the weird hive mind connection that takes over all other human beings on the planet, and doesn’t want to even entertain the idea. I’ve seen many reviews call her unlikable and unrelatable, and while the first part may be true (I was really tired of her contrarian nature in the first half of the season), I think there’s something more going on here than just a selfish white American woman who expects the world to move just for her.
The thing is, Vince Gilligan does not talk down to his audience; he expects us to keep up and to pick up what he’s putting down, whether that’s subtle digs at the publishing industry (it is truly hilarious to me that the protagonist of this show is an actual romantasy author!), not-so-subtle digs about community building and the harm humanity has done to the planet and to each other (particularly around resource distribution, iykyk), and questions about human nature that we are left to ponder: would you trade world peace for the complete flattening of human culture? Are we capable of retaining what makes us human while not actively harming the world around us, or each other? What is humanity, really, or human nature even?
Big stuff coming from an Apple TV show, once again; should I even be surprised at this point?
I think the long game of this show is going to be Carol’s character development from grumpy selfish miser to someone who genuinely cares about other people—a reverse Walter White, if you will. Gilligan is all about the narrative arc, and he has been known to deliver some of the best narrative arcs in TV ever, even if they take a while to stick the landing. I have faith that he is cooking something we haven’t even yet begun to poke at, if Better Call Saul is any indication, and between the already great writing and the show’s superlative production value, I think Pluribus is going to be a low-key modern classic. Vince has my vote, now and always.
My Hero Academia: The Final Season+
I wrote about this extensively in my Hugo ballot recommendations post a couple of months ago, so I’ll pull a quote from that as to why I loved it so much:
Y’all, what can I say: this has been my favourite anime of the last decade, and the fact it is ending has had me in my feelings for months. I’ve been deeply invested emotionally for many years, watching the simulcasts on the same day as the anime airs in Japan since around season 2, and this last season has been all payoff for almost ten years’ worth of story. Every Saturday from October 4th till December 13th, I tuned in and bawled my eyes out for 20 minutes straight, which for an anime aimed at teenage boys is an absolute feat. Defying every expectation, it stuck the landing for every little story beat, every subplot, and every theme set up over its ten year tenure perfectly, making it one of my absolute favourite stories in the superhero genre.
This is definitely one of those where context is essential, so I don’t think it can be viewed in a vacuum and appreciated to the same extent as having watched all previous seven seasons. You can try, but it wouldn’t be worth it just for the awards. Just watch the show so the ending can hit you like a ton of bricks in the best way possible, even if you miss the deadline. It’s fun, it’s moving, it’s made with so much love for American comics through a uniquely Japanese perspective. I can’t recommend it enough, and it’ll definitely be on my Long Form ballot even if I’m one of ten people who put it there 🤷🏻♀️
Honourable mentions/near misses+
- Silo, Season 2: It’s definitely not as tight as season 1, and it was missing some stuff from the books that may well turn up in season 3. For what it’s worth, there’s a lot I enjoyed about this season, but unfortunately it’s simply weaker when Rebecca Ferguson’s Juliette isn’t on screen, and there’s a lot of that unfortunately. I’m certainly looking forward to what season 3 will be adapting, and to see what format that will take, as I think they’re either condensing or axing the second half of book 2 to go straight to the dual narrative of book 3, which I have mixed feelings about.
- Murderbot: I never got into the books because of tonal whiplash (MB’s violence and misanthropy coated in dry humour just didn’t work for me), and while I thought the TV show was a little better in that regard, ultimately I thought the show was just okay. I didn’t actively dislike it, mind, but I watched most of it on a plane ride, didn’t finish it, and haven’t felt like picking it back up since. The story just doesn’t grab me, I think, and I never felt particularly attached to or compelled by any of the characters… and I’m okay with that 🤷🏻♀️. Not everything is for everyone! I expect it’ll be mass-nominated by all the book fans anyway based on the online discourse I’ve seen, so it won’t miss my vote.
- Invasion, Season 3: I didn’t even know this was out, lmao! I was deeply invested while watching seasons 1 and 2 (even though I disliked quite a few of the characters), but as soon as I was done with it I promptly forgot about it—and Apple TV didn’t even let me know that it was back on. Whomst can I shake until they fix the marketing situation over there?! Christ on a cracker!
- Stranger Things, Season 5: To my own surprise, I didn’t like this season nearly as much as season 4, let alone season 1, and so I will not be considering it for the Long Form category (including the last episode, which would qualify under Long Form on its own due to being 128 MINUTES LONG 🙄). It’s turned out to be one of those things where, while I enjoyed it a fair bit in the moment, the longer I think about it the more my feelings about it seem to change, and the ending has left me a bit… conflicted, shall we say. But it did have some great episodes in the middle especially, so I will consider a couple of them in the Short Form category.
Long Form: Films
Sinners+
This was probably my favourite SFF film of last year. Not only is it atmospheric, fun, and lush with cross-border folkloric world-building (Hoodoo magic and Irish vampires?! yes please!), but the story touches so many themes that a regular popcorn movie won’t even veer towards, and it does so brilliantly.
All the many layers of the Black and POC experience in the South during the Prohibition era (and beyond) are crystallised in the character arc of each ensemble cast member, with some absolutely outstanding performances by Hailee Steinfeld (whose character Mary is biracial, and torn between safety and belonging), Michael B. Jordan (who plays identical twins Smoke and Stack so well he walked away with an Oscar for it), and Wunmi Mosaku in particular as Smoke’s wife Annie (she’s such an underrated performer, but I’m so glad to see her actually flex her acting skills after her appearance in Loki). We’re talking themes like the push and pull of religion and its role in both keeping communities together and also oppressing them, the safety of BIPOC in a white supremacist society, and even the immigrant experience… the truth is your average blockbuster would never—but this is Ryan Coogler, and he won’t sugar-coat things for a mainstream audience, instead telling a story only he could tell, filled with truth, complexity, and nuance, something I really wish more filmmakers would embrace nowadays.
The film’s protagonist, Sammie (Miles Caton) has a preternatural gift with music, and the plot revolves around a juke joint Smoke and Stack put together, and the connection that music can create across time and even culture—with a wonderful supernatural twist.
One of my favourite moments is when the villain Remmick (an immortal Irish vampire played by Jack O’Connell) turns up at their juke joint and cries with joy at the emotions Sammie’s music has brought him after years of numbness. He talks about his own experience of colonialism at the hands of the British Empire and the subsequent erasure of Irish culture through the centuries, which is a very real thing—but he’s also a predator who has been making his way through the land trying to trap people and turn them into vampires, chased away by indigenous people who could tell he was a monster before attacking a couple who are Klan members. It’s clear that he doesn’t want Sammie’s music in order to connect people, but to use it as a tool on his quest to propagate a vampire race, and that seemingly sweet moment of connection is exposed as the performative allyship that it is.
There are some phenomenal action sequences too, with the last third of the film keeping me on the edge of my IMAX seat4. Genuinely, this film was such a breath of fresh air: delightfully complex but also fun, in ways that cinema just doesn’t dare to be right now. I was sad they didn’t win all the awards they were up for, but perhaps we can give it a Hugo instead.
Frankenstein+
©️ Netflix 2025I have a full review of this here, but basically: the SFF-ness of this is lush, as expected from a Guillermo Del Toro movie, and for the most part it works well as an adaptation of the book. As I mention in my other post, it doesn’t quite reach the heights of the NT’s theatre adaptation, which I still consider the ultimate version of this story, but it does similar things with the characters as Penny Dreadful, which is my runner-up favourite, save for the very end, and it’s that ending that makes the whole thing fall short for me, unfortunately.
To quote myself:
Why do we sing sad songs, when we know their ending is unhappy? When our instinctual yearning for a happy ending is met with the inevitability of human flaws getting in the way, that emotional release we experience is what my ancestors called catharsis. As the audience we accept that because of who these characters are, they would always make these choices and lead the story to the same outcome, time and again, even though we’d like them to change, to choose better, so they can be happy in the end.
What makes Frankenstein compelling in any iteration is its core conflict: Victor’s refusal to acknowledge the Creature as human, despite the fact that the Creature is deeply human, as much as his creator would like to think otherwise. We are invited to empathise with the Creature’s plight, to see how he thinks and feels, how he desires things we all do: safety, friendship, love. Victor is incapable of recognising this, and so the two clash eternally. Such is the tragedy, and no matter what minor changes are made to it, the good adaptations always recognise the impasse between the two at the end. It’s what makes the story tick.
My ultimate issue with the way Del Toro chose to end his adaptation of Frankenstein is that it ultimately robs us of our deserved catharsis by artificially resolving the incontrovertible stalemate between the two leads, giving us a happy(ish) ending in which Victor, at death’s door, forgives the Creature for the violence and destruction he’s wrought, apologises for what he did to him, and urges him to live on, free of guilt, yet completely alone. The Creature then walks off into the Arctic sunrise, liberated from his vendetta yet devastated at losing his creator.
It’s a lovely thought in principle, a Del Toro-ism about accepting one’s nature and walking away from one’s painful past, and if it were an original story without baggage I’d be all for it—after all, The Shape of Water had similar, pro-monster themes of letting go of trying to fit into a world that won’t accept you anyway, and I ate that up voraciously. But here, in taking a tragedy that is so classic and ingrained, loading it with a bunch of new traumas and subplots, and then resolving it all with a little monologue, the ending robs the story of its true conclusion, fundamentally missing the point of the source text, and doing a disservice both to Victor and the Creature.
I still think it’s a strong contender in the category, and definitely one of my favourite SFF movies I saw last year, despite my issues with it. However, given all my favourite TV shows above, I think I might eschew giving this one of my ballot spots, but I won’t be disappointed to see it on the final ballot, should it make it through.
Thunderbolts*+
I loved this movie A LOT, you guys, and it made me very sad that it flopped at the box office. I don’t blame people for being fatigued with Marvel’s mediocre superhero slop, but they should have given this movie a chance at the very least, because it might not have been the movie we wanted, but it was definitely the movie we needed right now.
(c) Disney/Marvel Studios, 2025I was very surprised with how deep it went into the trauma our various superheroes and anti-heroes have sustained through their previous adventures, and the level of empathy with which it treated them all:
- Yelena Belova, the last surviving Black Widow5, starts off depressed and morose, aimless, dissatisfied with running around and blowing things up for people with nothing to show for it except a path of destruction.
- Her and Natasha Romanoff’s father figure, Alexei Shostakov, is facing the music that his “Red Star” superhero persona is nothing but a figment of a bygone era, and is living a meagre life as a limo driver while reminiscing about his glory days.
- John Walker, the temporary Captain America replacement later dubbed “U.S. Agent”, is dealing with guilt after slaughtering innocent bystanders using Cap’s vibranium shield during the events of The Falcon and the Winter Soldier, all while struggling through early parenthood.
- The Winter Soldier—Bucky Barnes—is running for office, in an attempt to turn his newfound and shaky inner peace into something productive. Yet, something keeps niggling at him about the power vacuum left in the wake of the Avengers disappearing, and he can’t help but get involved in ways political candidates really shouldn’t. See: taking a huge machine gun and riding a motorbike out to the desert to find out who is behind these shenanigans. Tut tut, Mr Congressman.
- Oh, there’s also Ava Star/Ghost from Ant-Man and the Wasp, probably my least favourite Marvel movie to date, whom I completely forgot about before watching this movie and while writing this review. Oops! Her thing is that she is constantly phasing in and out of a solid existence, and she has to keep shouting about how traumatised she is with no need for subtext because they know we’ve all forgotten about her and need to be reminded of her struggles. Normally I’d be mad at that, but they are not wrong this time 😅
And then, there’s Bob.
(c) Disney/Marvel, 2025Bob is a new guy, recruited to be experimented on in hopes of becoming a superhero. He seems normal, average even, and he reluctantly joins our motley crew as they escape from a trap set by their employer—but under the surface he carries a deep wound, a gash that opens up to swallow him whole and turns him into The Void, his mysterious alter ego who awakens when Bob’s absolutely OTT superpowers kick in. The rest, as they say, is plot.
There’s a lot of (predictably dark) humour in this, and I was surprised with how much I liked these characters once they were given enough room to be protagonists, rather than minor antagonists in someone else’s story. While they haphazardly join forces into a makeshift team, their trauma is taken seriously, coalescing into the film’s climactic battle that pits the reluctant heroes against The Void, who weaponises each of their subconscious against them. The Void is Depression, by any other name—it’s the dark voice inside that tells each of our anti-heroes that they are worthless, unlovable, guilty, and alone. In order to beat him they have to reach out with empathy to themselves first and then to each other, and literally hold each other in a tight embrace as a reminder that they are not alone. What wins the day is friendship, empathy, and love, not unlike the last season of My Hero Academia, which I also loved last year, or Superman, which I’m about to get into below.
I cried BUCKETS while watching Thunderbolts* in the UK’s largest IMAX screen alongside my Bucky Barnes-obsessed friend, who has since made this film her entire personality (affectionate), and honestly, I’ve also been thinking about it ever since. Again, it’s a delightful little irony that the megalithic Disney/MCU would come out with a narrative so introspective and empathetic, especially at a time that loneliness and isolation is rampant among the film’s core audience of young men. I really hope that watching this film inspired people to reach out and be less alone in their struggles, and that the financial hit Disney took with it won’t keep us from seeing more of these characters in the future.
Also! A fun fact I noticed while listening to the soundtrack was that the film’s main theme is a reversed version of the main Avengers theme; just listen to the first few seconds of both themes and you’ll hear it:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8-Jzgp1jNiQ
Superman+
A good Superman movie?? In this economy?? Hallelujah!
I love a lot about what this film does with the core Superman premise. It gets Clark right, down to his farm boy roots and dorky kindness. It gets Superman right: his power isn’t unbeatable, and it isn’t even the most powerful thing about him (spoiler: it’s the dorky kindness). It gets Lex Luthor right—especially for our times—by having him be a smart but petty tech billionaire with an overinflated ego, someone who funds an invasion and even starts a pocket dimension on a whim, without once thinking of the consequences. It even gets Jimmy Olsen right simply by bringing him out of the margins where he’s been relegated for the last several Superman adaptations—and it’s actually really funny that he’s the one guy with the most game in this film, and that that’s how he gets to help out.
The structure of the film is an absolute delight, too. From the very start, we are thrown into the midst of a losing fight for Superman, which is a bold choice, as is having Clark’s relationship with Lois Lane already set up (and she even knows about him being Superman!). We don’t spend any time whatsoever on origin stories, budding relationship exploration, or long-winded exposition—we simply hit the ground running, and find out the particulars as we go along. It is assumed we know who Superman is, because… we all know who Superman is. And the themes around identity, responsibility, community, and how we should treat each other are laid bare without pretence, very directly speaking to the audience about contemporary problems we’re all facing day to day. It’s a genuine breath of fresh air not to be treated like an idiot, frankly.
There are a couple of things I don’t like about it though. For one, the film feels very busy, with so many characters and subplots and easter eggs thrown in, that if you blink you’ll definitely miss something. Relatedly, not all of those characters or subplots are treated equally, because there simply isn’t enough screen time to go around for everything. So the Justice Friends get the short shrift, as do Papa and Mama Kent, as does Krypton6, so that we can focus on the personal and political stakes that Clark/Superman has to overcome.
This is another superhero story with empathy at its heart, where the answer to even the most cosmic problems is… just be kind. Kindness is punk rock. As one of my favourite YouTube video essayists put it, this Superman is the American hero we desperately need right now. Someone who will stand up for what’s right even when the rest of the world tells him not to, someone with an unshakeable moral compass that only points to goodness. Watch that whole video actually, Dove does such a fantastic job analysing the cultural geography that plays into this film, and how it all ties together to bring us this ray of f*cking sunshine:
All this to say, I love that James Gunn can make a superhero movie that aims to appeal broadly but doesn’t feel like it panders to the lowest available denominator, and that he had the guts to (a) make the story feel relevant to our current times, what with all the invasions/”wars” going on right now that are purely happening for profit and that no one is doing anything to stop 🙄, and (b) leave us with a message of hope, that we can imagine a kinder world and that we can be the instruments of making that vision a reality. That kindness can be punk rock.
Dare I say, this was the movie that made me go, “huh, maybe the genre isn’t dead yet”, which… please, let it not be dead, I really like superheroes!
Honourable mentions/near misses+
- Mickey 17: I enjoyed this a lot, particularly for its world-building and Robert Pattinson’s performance. Unfortunately I think the Bong Joon-Ho-ness of it all kind of undercuts the story in favour of very on-the-nose political commentary, which was fun in the moment but in retrospect kinda leaves me a bit… “meh!”, probably because the current climate is so much worse than when this movie was made, and making fun of things/people just isn’t enough right now. So I don’t think this will be getting one of my spots, but it’s still totally worth seeing, if you haven’t!
- Fantastic Four – First Steps: I also enjoyed this a lot, especially in light of B-Mask’s excellent Fantastic Four video from a few years back which explained the classic comics and got me up to speed on the characters. It’s an honest-to-God decent, good Marvel movie, which as I keep saying is a rare sight these days, but that being said… I liked the stuff I talked about up top way more than this one, not to mention the TV seasons, so I just think it gets edged out by the competition.
- Hamnet: Technically an SFF movie! The trailer had me weeping, but the movie left me cold somehow, perhaps because it’s a little too obvious in its attempts to make people cry (Mark Kermode said it best! The bit with the song at the very end irked me too because I recognised it, and the moment was actually completely ruined for me.) It does have some wonderful and atmospheric visuals where it comes to the speculative aspect of it, and the soundtrack by Max Richter is predictably phenomenal (if only they’d used his original song for the climactic ending of the film!!), but it just didn’t move me in the ways I thought it would, so it’s a miss.
The “I haven’t seen these yet” caveat+
- K-Pop Demon Hunters: Yes, I know, somehow, I still haven’t seen this movie. I’m assuming it’ll get nominated to high heaven, so I’ll watch it ahead of voting, I promise.
- Weapons: I’ve heard fantastic things about this, and my husband is a big WKUK fan, so I might be watching this soon and revising my thoughts.
- Wicked: For Good: I liked the first film well enough, and I hear that a LOT happens in the second half of the musical, so I’m tentatively putting this on a hold list until I watch it. I don’t know if it would edge out any of my favourites, realistically speaking, but I suppose there is always room for surprises!
Long Form: Non-Film/TV
B-Mask’s “The REAL Thunderbolts Story: Marvel’s Greatest Scam“*
This is a 2.5 hour love letter to comics, and the first in a five-part series that tells the story of the real Thunderbolts from the comic books (a team that bears very little resemblance to the one portrayed in the recent MCU film discussed above). It features complex animations drawing from the original comic book art, as well as a full cast of voice actors bringing the characters to life with their performances.
* I’m personally torn on whether this would qualify for BDP-LF or BRW (seeing as it is technically a fanwork, and not an original work), but either way it is nothing short of a masterpiece—I wrote more about it in my 2025 underrated Hugo picks post, if you’re interested.
Short Form: TV Episodes
A caveat: my reasoning around nominating a particular episode is kind of like nominating my favourite chapter of a novel. Especially with how a lot of the prestige TV shows are made nowadays, individual episodes function as chapters in a longer story, so they have to be considered in the context of the wider narrative they’re a part of. If they are from a second, third, or even last season of a long-running show, even more so.
Also—and this might be a slightly spicy take—I personally don’t like that a lot of Hugo voters seem to only watch the individual episodes on the eventual shortlist without any context, and then complain that they didn’t get what was going on. That’s because context matters, and while I understand that it would take a lot of time to watch an entire season (or even several!) to be able to appreciate a single episode… if you want your vote to be informed, that’s the job, innit?
This has happened several times to me, where there’s an episode on the shortlist from a show I don’t watch (and have no intention of watching—sorry Lower Decks), so I just skip it and don’t put it in my ballot at the end, or rank it below my own favourites. I do the same with sequels to books I haven’t read, out of respect for the work itself as well as its author, but that’s just me I guess! 🤷🏻♀️
Anyway, here are some thoughts about my favourite episodes of speculative TV from this year, under spoiler tags for obvious reasons.
Two episodes from Stranger Things, Season 5+
‘Chapter Four: Sorcerer’
I loved, loved, loved this episode. The moment Will uses his new power… it gave me goosebumps, it was so good—and the fight sequence in front of the gate to the Upside Down is incredible. Rather than the writing, though, I want to praise the actors’ performances and the work of the crew who worked on the practical effects, stunts, and complicated cinematography in this episode. Especially given more recent revelations about how the Duffers went into production with season 5 without having ironed out the ending, and the stress that added to the poor production crew, I think any flowers should really be going to them for making such an outstanding piece of TV despite the challenges.
‘Chapter Six: Escape from Camazotz’
Yes, the scene in this photo feels a little ludicrously long considering they’re both on the run and about to be caught by the Big Bad, but I loved the heart of this relationship and the character development for both Holly and Max in this episode. I had also seen the Stranger Things play in London a couple of years back, and this episode eliminated the issues I had with the world-building in that, which at first had seemed to contradict the revelations in season 4 about Vecna/Henry Creel’s agency as a villain and his role in shaping the Upside Down… I was glad to see that in fact all the loose threads from the various seasons did connect, and that the strands from the play were relevant too.
Various episodes from Severance, Season 2+
S2E4: ‘Woe’s Hollow’
I mentioned this episode in my discussion of the series earlier, but let me get into it here: this is one of the best episodes of TV ever made, period, and I will fight you on this. I don’t know if it would stand alone in any capacity, considering the weird tone is already a lot to deal with and there’s a lot of plot and character interaction that picks up from where the last season left off, not to mention a big-time betrayal that ends up echoing through the rest of season 2.
I spent a good chunk of the beginning wondering if this was a simulator or a dream sequence because it didn’t fully make sense for our protagonists to be outside the Lumon offices, and the uncanny doppelgangers guiding them through the forest seemed almost dreamlike, but the reality was much more sinister in the end, which tracks. If there’s a single episode from this show I’d nominate, it’d be this one.
S2E8: ‘Sweet Vitriol’
People hate this episode because it’s slow and follows an unlikeable antagonist whom we are invited to empathise with, and that’s precisely the reason I like it. First of all, we get way more insight into the Lumon cult corporation from Harmony Cobel, who ostensibly grew up in the cult and has invested her whole life into the company’s welfare. This is also where we begin to see cracks form in her resolve as an antagonist, as she has realised that the company sees her as an expendable cog despite her lifelong investment and dedication, and so she decides to fight them, to prove that this little cog is actually so important, it might well bring the whole house down.
It’s interesting also for thematic reasons, outside of the show’s world. On an individual level, the image of someone who grew up in poverty while idolising a particular company, then making their entire life revolve around it so as to gain favour and socioeconomic mobility, gaining that and then losing it when the company no longer sees them as valuable, is unfortunately too relatable. So is seeing a small town that once had its own industry and community be taken over by a mega corporation and become completely dependent on it, eventually falling into destitution once the corporation pulls their activities out of the town. The actual commentary here is silent, but extremely powerful.
I don’t think Cobel’s about-turn is enough to fully make her an anti-hero, but I really enjoyed this episode for all the insight it gave us both into her and the world of Severance outside of Lumon HQ.
S2E10: ‘Cold Harbor’
There is a strong argument to be made that the season two finale is absolutely worth a nomination as well, making this a really tough choice. Two seasons’ worth of mystery solving and internal corporate espionage culminate in this one-hour episode where our protagonists clash with one another and with the antagonists, and it’s just adrenaline all the way down.
Some spoilery thoughts here.While the big questions have been answered (where is Mark’s wife? what is Cold Harbor? what are they doing with all those sheep?), so many more remain. Is there a way to save the innies at all, if Lumon ends up falling? Can Mark S. and Helly R. ever hope to have a life outside these walls? And what happens to Gemma now that she’s out, even though she has 24 distinct, hand-crafted personalities inside her?
There’s actually a great take I hadn’t come across before I sat down to write this, and that is that the finale actually inverts the Orpheus & Eurydice narrative of Mark and Gemma, by having Mark’s innie actually choose to stay behind in Lumon so he can be with Helly. It’s less of a lack of faith and more of a conscious decision, which perhaps makes it even more tragic as Gemma watches her husband (sort of) run toward danger and another woman, leaving her alone at the exit, screaming for him to come back.
Having written about the other episodes already, I do think ep4 is a stronger contender purely from a craft/vibes standpoint, whereas the finale is more typical in many ways, as it focuses on exposition and plot and is faster paced. YMMV here, for sure, but I’m inclined to pick ep4 over this one, now that I think about it.
Two episodes from Pluribus, Season 1+
Episode 1: “We is Us”
It’s not often that a TV pilot stands on its own two feet well. It’s even less common for the film-making to be so good that one must gasp in awe at the choreography, cinematography, and editing, multiple times throughout the course of the episode. One of my biggest peeves is when a TV pilot is so mired in exposition that there is no room for characters or atmosphere until the next episode because they simply have to give you the setup quickly—it ends up feeling flat and boring and frankly, it puts me off more than it entices me to keep watching until it gets better.7
Well, this episode does none of that.
Gilligan’s forte is silent scenes that actually speak volumes. There is so much storytelling in this episode that has no words; we watch an intergalactic viral hive mind sequence take over the Earth in perfectly synchronised movement, and the storytelling is in the silence, the perfect unison, and the eerie smiles as the hive mind consciousness flattens the individuals inside. A lesser writer would put exposition in dialogue, possibly giving too much information for where we are in the story, but Gilligan knows that less is more. We get just enough to hook us in, and the rest is pure atmosphere and of course, character.
Carol is introduced as a grumpy romantasy author, a lesbian in a loving relationship who constantly finds reasons to be miserable, much to her partner’s chagrin. When the hive mind sequence is spread via planes in the air, Carol loses her partner, and simultaneously the world. The panic that ensues is completely understandable, and it gets worse at every turn as she is met with more and more hive mind people, but no one else like her. What a place for a pilot to leave us in! Aren’t you hooked just by reading this?? GO WATCH THIS SHOW!
Episode 7: “The Gap”
The title refers to a real place that Manousos (pictured) has to cross, but also I suppose to the gap between Carol and others at this point in the show. This is another masterfully crafted episode with a dual narrative point of view, where Carol continues her life in Albuquerque while Manousos is making his slow way up through South and Central America towards Carol, crossing cities, climbing mountains, and trudging through thick, treacherous jungles, all while refusing the hive mind’s help at every opportunity.
Some spoilery thoughts here.At first, it’s admirable; he won’t even take gas without paying for it somehow, even though everything he comes across is at his disposal. Soon enough, however, his steadfastness turns into stubbornness that does more harm to him than good. When he gets seriously injured in the jungle (something that was completely preventable, had he accepted the hive mind’s help and transited through safer means),
Meanwhile, Carol stoically endures complete and total isolation for a long time as a result of the hive mind evacuating the whole metro area of Albuquerque, which happened when Carol hurt one of them (and by extension, all of them) quite badly while trying to find answers. She is given resources and sustenance remotely, and for a while enjoys her peaceful environment, going around town and doing whatever she feels like… until she finally cracks under the pressure of extreme loneliness, and asks the hive mind to come back.
It’s an incredibly powerful moment actually, seeing someone as stubborn sturdy as Carol finally admit that she can’t live her whole life completely cut off from other people, even though she hates the hive mind on principle, and can’t wrap her mind around accepting this status quo. In fairness, she makes it to about a month and a half, which is pretty long, but her isolation was also so complete that there were zero people around her for that whole time—an unfathomable experience that’s so well depicted on screen. I personally love the rooftop golf scene as an example of how utterly devoid of people the landscape is, a mundane sort of post-apocalyptic image.
This is probably my favourite episode in season 1, and even think it could be presented without context and still mostly work alright for new viewers… Though I’d still hope that people would watch the whole season anyway. If I had to pick one episode to represent the series as a whole, I’d say it’s this one.
Short Form: Non-TV
‘Songs No One Will Hear’ by Arjen Lucassen (music album)
I wrote a fair amount about this pre-apocalyptic concept album in my underrated Hugo recommendations post; here’s a snippet:
The result is an album that grapples with the essence of the human condition (something Lucassen is very adept at), asking what makes life worth living from the perspectives of a bunch of different characters as they try to come to terms with the impending end of the world—including those who think it’s all a hoax, those who embrace it, and those who rage against the dying of the light. It straddles a weird and fun line between diegetic/in-world music that’s on the radio and telling the story as a sung-through musical, which is a little different than what you might expect, particularly for a progressive rock album. But that’s the Arjen Lucassen guarantee: big questions, big emotions, and a sound that isn’t afraid to change dramatically when necessary, even mid-song. Full of theatricality, Songs No One Will Hear is in some ways very similar to Lucassen’s Ayreon albums, but retains its own identity both musically and thematically.
We’ve been known to nominate SFF music albums when they arise, and on occasion those musicians have even responded to being recognised by fandom—seeing Clipping live in Helsinki was fun!—so this wouldn’t be out of the realm of possibility, though perhaps it is a bit of a left field suggestion for most Hugo voters as a progressive rock concept album.
While he’s extremely popular in his own niche, most of Lucassen’s fans aren’t in SF fandom and vice versa, something that I would love to help shift by talking about his work more to Hugo voters and talking to Ayreon/Lucassen fans more about joining our community and coming to Worldcon, especially as the next few years are looking quite international. Lucassen’s very obvious Golden Age influences are bound to have pointed many of his fans to the genre, so the bridge is already half-built.
I’m sure that I’ll be one of very few people longlisting this album, but 🤷🏻♀️! I really think If you see just a single, solitary vote for it in the full data, know that it was me!
Footnotes
- Per the WSFS Constitution, clauses 3.8.2 and 3.8.3. ↩︎
- In addition to the more fannish post I linked above, I found another really cool essay about the Barbican as Coruscant from an architect who works in film and TV. ↩︎
- A special shoutout to Joshua James, who played the doctor who tortured Bix Caleen with the sounds of distant massacres; I’ve been a huge fan of his ever since I saw him in Treasure Island at the National Theatre back in 2015 or so, and make a point to see him in every play he’s in when I can. He had a stint as Dr Brenner in Stranger Things: The First Shadow recently which I unfortunately missed, but I bet he was perfect! ↩︎
- I’d like to thank Octothorpe’s Alison Scott for her recommendation to see the film in an IMAX theatre, as the experience was truly spectacular. ↩︎
- There is another Black Widow character played by Olga Kurilenko who turns up for literally five minutes, but she is so not present in the rest of the film that I’m not even going to go into it. If it weren’t for Yelena and Alexei, I’d say that movie had zero lasting impact on the MCU, given how late into Natasha’s journey we got it (literally after she was canonically killed off), lol (sarcastic). ↩︎
- I still don’t know how to feel about the plot twist around Krypton and Clark’s biological parents, brief as it was. I think it is intended to maximise the contrast between where Clark hails from and where he grew up and how that affected his identity, and the discomfort it creates is probably very intentional from Gunn. ↩︎
- I call this “pilot syndrome”, and it’s one of my least favourite phenomena in media. ↩︎
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Major Parkinson – Valesa – Chapter II: Viva the Apocalypse! Review By Killjoy
At first blush, pop music and progressive rock might seem too contradictory to be combined effectively. While the former prioritizes immediate accessibility, the latter prizes unconventional artistic expression. Even so, several Norwegian bands are finding immensely original ways to reconcile these differences. Moron Police and Meer have been showered with heaps of deserved praise by my colleagues, but I discovered my personal favorite of the bunch tucked at the very end of GardensTale’s Top Ten(ish) of 2022 list. Major Parkinson’s Valesa – Chapter I: Velvet Prison quickly became one of my most beloved records of all time with its inimitable charm and wit. All permanent band members have returned for Valesa – Chapter II: Viva the Apocalypse!, which is particularly relieving given vocalist Jon Ivar Kollbotn’s heart attack while performing on stage a few years ago. I’m grateful that the full crew is still here to delight audiences once more.
If there’s anything predictable about Major Parkinson, it’s their unpredictability. While the chimeric fusion of synth-pop and prog rock of Velvet Prison was drenched in 80s nostalgia, Viva the Apocalypse! feels somewhat more modernized. The guitar lines (Øystein Bech-Eriksen and Sondre Skollevoll1) are much more prominent and flashy, with full-on solos in “Showbiz” and “Superdad.” In fact, pretty much everything about Viva the Apocalypse! is flashy. Lars Christian Bjørknes’s2 piano keys that featured prominently in prior albums are mostly replaced by glitzy synths, frequently underscored by blazing trumpets3 and smooth saxophone.4 Brand-new guest vocalist Halie’s husky singing complements Kollbotn’s gravelly yet velvety tones extremely well. His voice has only become richer over time, bathing my ears as if with warm honey.
Valesa – Chapter II: Viva the Apocalypse! by Major Parkinson
Major Parkinson has always been defined by duality, but on Viva the Apocalypse! it’s sharper than ever. The first half of the record is full of ridiculously catchy, quirky arrangements and carefree curiosity. There are even sprinklings of funk (“Superdad”) and gospel (“Showbiz”). “Viva the Apocalypse!” is the climax of this feverish party, as trumpets, upbeat electronic tunes, and guitar riffs blast with reckless abandon. But something about all this mirth doesn’t feel quite genuine, and the second half of Viva the Apocalypse! grows more hostile as the mask starts to slip. “Karma Supernova” begins with ominous bass notes that intertwine with guitar and synth lines to signal something sinister approaching, with Sondre Veland’s drumming sporadically becoming frantic as tension builds and releases. His frenzied kitwork and the whirring synth tone at the end of “Maybelline” give the vivid impression that the record is about to self-destruct.
As different as the individual elements are on Viva the Apocalypse!, Major Parkinson again weaves them together into a unified and unique experience. I miss the eccentric interludes from Velvet Prison, but other songwriting tricks have carried over. As before, Viva the Apocalypse! leans on simple recurring lyrics to tie the tracks together with tickling déjà vu. Examples include “The world is on fire, and you look so beautiful” (“Superdad,” Kiss Me Now!”), and “Free drinks for everyone!” (“Showbiz,” “Karma Supernova”). I particularly love the one-two punch of “Superdad” and “Father Superior,” which (as their titles suggest) are deliciously complementary, both musically and lyrically. However, I’m less enthralled by Kollbotn’s unsettling shouting match with returning vocalist Peri Winkle in “Maybelline,” which contrasts starkly with their gentle duet in “Kiss Me Now!” Despite the powerful artistic statement, these closing tracks are more difficult to appreciate musically.
In many ways, Viva the Apocalypse! is Major Parkinson’s most incendiary chapter to date. It’s more technically impressive—the drums and guitars in particular get their chance to shine brightly. Once again, they have cleverly evolved their sound and leveraged a diverse supporting cast to enrich the musical environment. The first half of Viva the Apocalypse! is a fantastic dream from which I don’t want to wake, but the second half is meaner and less emotionally gripping for me. Still, there is something special going on here, just like in Norway’s prog scene as a whole. If the world is on fire, I’m glad that Major Parkinson is around to give us a good time as it goes up in flames.
Rating: 3.5/5.0
#2026 #35 #ApollonRecords #MajorParkinson #Mar26 #Meer #MoronPolice #NorwegianMetal #PeriWinkle #ProgressiveRock #Review #Reviews #SynthPop #ValesaChapterIIVivaTheApocalypse
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: PCM
Label: Apollon Records
Websites: majorparkinson.bandcamp.com | majorparkinson.com | facebook.com/majorparkinson
Releases Worldwide: March 13th, 2026