The Lesser Joke: book reviews and more

Book Review: Doctor Who: White Darkness by David A. McIntee

Book #103 of 2026:

Doctor Who: White Darkness by David A. McIntee (Virgin New Adventures #15)

Largely a back-to-basics reset for the series, bringing the Seventh Doctor and his companions Ace and Bernice to Haiti in 1915, amid the unrest that ultimately led to an American invasion and occupation of the island country. While not a straight historical adventure — cultists are trying to raise one of H. P. Lovecraft’s Old Ones, in the first explicit connection of that mythos to Doctor Who — it’s a pretty well-researched period piece that is generally content to get the protagonists caught up in various earthly intrigues and keep the wilder sci-fi business to a minimum. For most of the plot, the main threat isn’t even the unnamed extradimensional being lurking in the background, but rather that outsiders are appropriating and corrupting the traditional vodoun practices, researching ways to enhance the pharmacological properties that induce a pacifying ‘zombi’ state.

I had my hesitations about this story (especially once I realized the Lovecraftian angle), but I think it treats its subject fairly respectfully overall. There is overt racism in the text, including racial slurs, but our viewpoint time-travelers are firmly against such nonsense and one senses that author David A. McIntee was striving to write the Haitians as a real and multifaceted society to the best of his abilities. Plotwise it’s a bit overstuffed with characters and action beats that involve them running from one location to another, and other than the setting, it doesn’t really showcase the cleverness or ambition that I’d prefer in a work like this. But I’ve certainly seen worse from this franchise before.

[Content warning for slavery, suicide, gun violence, threat of rape, and gore.]

★★★☆☆

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Movie Review: Jay and Silent Bob Reboot (2019)

Movie #31 of 2026:

Jay and Silent Bob Reboot (2019)

Here’s a picture that lives up to its title, effectively repeating the premise from Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back (2001): those slacker stoners again going on a cross-country journey to Hollywood, in order to stop a film being made about the comic book superheroes that are based on them. (In one of many meta-twists, including writer-director Kevin Smith now playing himself as well as Silent Bob, the new project is itself a reboot of the one they failed to prevent the last time around.) It also features another fun assembly of callbacks to previous View Askewniverse releases and other Smith productions, most notably an epilogue of sorts to Chasing Amy (1997) that openly addresses some of that story’s flaws.

What distinguishes this from its predecessor, besides the humor seeming somewhat less outrageous and immature, is an extra focus on the passage of time and particularly on certain characters having become parents. Franchise sequels often pretend that the status quo freezes between installments, and this one feints in that direction with the initial setup that Jay and Silent Bob — and Dante, running the Quick Stop — are basically up to the same old business we saw from Clerks (1994) through Clerks II (2006). But in fact it’s been eighteen years since Strike Back, and while the protagonists might not have matured all that much in the meantime, Jay does discover that he now has a teenager with his ex from that movie (though she’s played, amusingly / distractingly, by Smith’s own daughter instead).

This development adds a nice energy of parental bonding as the girl and her friends join the wayward pair on their latest road trip to California, although he doesn’t tell her right away that he’s her father. It’s not exactly great cinema, but it provides an effective scaffold for the laughs, which include two of my favorite bits in the series yet: a courtroom appearance in front of Judge Jerry N. Executioner and a Clerks reunion panel in which the cast somehow appears entirely in black-and-white. Sure, a lot of the rest of this is just lazy slapstick and referential comedy — cue Bob distracting a Klan rally with quotes from Glengarry Glen Ross for long enough that Jay can empty a porta-potty on them — but at least the dick jokes and edgy homophobia have been toned down.

★★★☆☆

Book Review: Magician’s Gambit by David Eddings

Book #102 of 2026:

Magician’s Gambit by David Eddings (The Belgariad #3)

I continue to struggle with how generic this 80s fantasy series seems to me, like The Lord of the Rings or The Chronicles of Prydain with the more interesting worldbuilding, character, and plot details sanded down. It’s very much a product of its time, faithfully offering tropes that stronger works in the genre would manage to subvert or avoid entirely. (And it’s not as though the era was a complete desert there, either — The Belgariad postdates the original Thomas Covenant and Earthsea sagas, to pick just two easy counterexamples. But this is something that later authors have gotten better about, as publishing trends mature.)

This volume honestly feels like it could have been the ending of a trilogy, as the heroes finally reveal, confront, and defeat their shadowy enemy, while the young farmboy protagonist hones his magic abilities and awkwardly flirts with his petulant princess love interest. Yet somehow there are another two volumes ahead regardless, so I’ll push on, I suppose. As usual, my three-star rating for this title is meant to capture that it isn’t bad per se; it’s simply not doing a lot I can point to as being exciting or worth specifically recommending to anyone. Isolated parts remain enjoyable or intriguing enough to keep reading, but they’ve been few and far between for me across these first few stories.

[Content warning for suicide and slavery.]

★★★☆☆

TV Review: Homicide: Life on the Street, season 4

TV #30 of 2026:

Homicide: Life on the Street, season 4

Still enjoyable, but too uneven compared to previous years, which is going to result in a lower rating from me. I do commend the writers for experimenting a bit with the conventional procedural format, and the results include two of my favorite episodes yet: Full Moon, which plays out like an indie film as Lewis and his new partner investigate a middle-of-the-night shooting at a seedy motel, and Stakeout, which offers a theatrical structure I’ve literally never seen on television before. In that latter installment, the heroes are monitoring an empty house for when a suspect will arrive, in two-person shifts that rotate one member every three hours. Over the course of an entire day, the whole team passes through, and we get treated to a succession of fascinating heart-to-heart conversations with no particular action to speak of. If you’re going to watch only one episode of this series, I’d recommend tracking that one down for sure.

And the rest isn’t all bad, either. It’s nice to see Kay get made sergeant, and Bruce Campbell turns in a great dramatic performance in a two-part guest arc. Reed Diamond is a solid addition to the squad that’s otherwise down a couple members too, as is Isabella Hofmann in her own expanded role. (In contrast to the lovely tribute when Crosetti’s actor was fired, however, Felton and Bolander’s absence is crudely attributed to them being suspended for getting naked, drunk, and disorderly somewhere, which feels like petty revenge for their performers quitting over rumored contract disputes.) But opposite the better qualities is the introduction of the pointless videographer character Brodie and an overall weakening of the verisimilitude of the drama.

For the first time, the homicide cops are shown covering non-lethal shootings as well as their typical beat, with no explanation on-screen for the change. We also get probably the worst story so far, in which a slavering Jeffrey Donovan plays identical twins on an interstate murder spree, and for some reason that’s handed to the Baltimore detectives to intercept and apprehend them. There’s a full crossover with Law & Order — “For God and Country” following the other program’s season 6 episode “Charm City” — which seems to leave behind its liberties with realistic procedure, resulting in cases that go immediately to trial and names that don’t get switched from red to black on the board until a conviction, rather than a simple arrest. And in general, the average case here just strikes me as more sensationalized, with serial killers and snipers and whatnot that make everything that much less grounded.

So it’s not the best, despite the aforementioned highlights, but I’ll keep watching in hopes that the future of the show trends closer to the parts that do continue to work really well.

[Content warning for racism, homophobia, domestic abuse, sexual assault, gun violence, suicide, and gore.]

★★★☆☆

Book Review: Gregor and the Code of Claw by Suzanne Collins

Book #101 of 2026:

Gregor and the Code of Claw by Suzanne Collins (The Underland Chronicles #5)

This series has had its ups and downs, but it concludes on a high note that ties everything together rather gracefully. Following the cliffhanger from the last volume, the story resumes with the humans and their allies in the underground city of Regalia on the brink of a siege war, with our twelve-year-old protagonist scrambling to defend his friends and keep his loved ones safe. The similarities to the author’s later Hunger Games novels have never been clearer, as Gregor faces bloodthirsty and underhanded people on his own side who would sink to the same cruel methods as their enemies in the very name of opposing them. Like Katniss, he’s moved to speak out against the cycle of violence and insist on a path forward that doesn’t wind up perpetuating the conflict into future generations.

Along the way there are thrills and heartaches, as readers hopefully expect by now. This is the sort of saga to start as a middle-grade romp and darken considerably as it progresses, and so the character deaths hit harder this time, while the specific dynamics the hero shares with Luxa, Ares, and Ripred feel fuller and more mature. The hokier prophecy stuff is almost absent at this point, and when it does arise, the characters are more appropriately skeptical of how the interpretations can be manipulated to fit a chosen narrative.

In the end I’m not sure all the meandering quest plots of the earlier books were necessary, and I don’t know that I would ever need to reread the entire Underland Chronicles. But I appreciate what Suzanne Collins has managed to achieve here, and I think this is about as strong a sendoff for the setting as we realistically could have gotten.

[Content warning for genocide and gore.]

This volume: ★★★★☆

Overall series: ★★★★☆

Volumes ranked: 5 > 1 > 4 > 2 > 3

Book Review: The Golem of Brooklyn by Adam Mansbach

Book #100 of 2026:

The Golem of Brooklyn by Adam Mansbach

A golem is a creature out of Jewish mythology, said to be carved from clay and brought to life with the proper incantations to defend its maker’s community during times of strife. This 2023 volume places one in a modern madcap satire, although I’d say the attempts at humor are no more than sporadically effective. Better is the twist on the traditional lore that there has only ever been one such being, whose same consciousness manifests whenever a new avatar is built and awakened in the right way. And of course, the prospect of directing this fabled defender of Judaism against a Charlottesville-style rally of torch-wielding and conspiracy-chanting white nationalists carries a certain delirious appeal, even if our main protagonist objects that killing them would be wrong.

In truth, an entire story could have been forged from that debate alone, with passionate Talmudic arguments getting assayed back and forth over the morality of bloody eye-for-an-eye justice. Here, however, the argument is fairly truncated, which tends to blunt the impact considerably. So too the idea of the golem missing the Holocaust and only learning about it decades after the fact, or the question of how it went unsummoned for so long when a random secular art teacher was able to figure out how to construct the thing from the internet. This book is unfortunately just too short to handle these matters appropriately, especially given its tendency to fly off on bizarre tangents like a supporting character’s plan for a screenplay involving interspecies human-dolphin erotica.

There are still elements to enjoy in this title. It’s the clear work of a savvy cultural Jew (with an extended cameo from Larry David, even), it’s one of the rare novels from the past decade to actually feature and critique the racism of the alt-right political movement, and it delivers some fun wordplay and lines of reasoning throughout. “Did the existence of a golem imply the existence of God?” someone muses at one point. “One hundred percent. But this was an easy answer, as the existence of bees also implied the existence of God.” That’s an incredibly Jewish take on the situation, but it doesn’t necessarily do anything to strengthen the surrounding plot.

[Content warning for homophobia, gun violence, and gore.]

★★★☆☆

Book Review: The Midnight Train by Matt Haig

Book #99 of 2026:

The Midnight Train by Matt Haig (The Midnight World #2)

I don’t like the beginning of this story nearly as much as author Matt Haig’s previous novel The Midnight Library — to which it is eventually revealed to be a spinoff sequel — but it grows into itself once it develops more of an A Christmas Carol plot midway through. Up until that point it’s the somewhat bland tale of a dead octogenarian revisiting his life, via the titular contraption that escorts his spirit back throughout his entire existence and allows him to stop and observe certain key moments again. The rules for exactly how this functions are a bit obscure, and the exercise feels largely pointless given the incorporeal nature of our late protagonist, who can’t realistically work towards any goals beyond acknowledging and processing his belated regrets.

Until suddenly he can, by virtue of somehow kidnapping one of the younger versions of himself that he finds along the way (much to the ghostly conductor’s chagrin). The mission then becomes to convince that earlier man to make different choices and avoid his fate, which theoretically lends greater agency and stakes to the proceedings. Yet even still, this is not Scrooge the miser who has to learn the error of his ways, but rather an eager romantic who needs no persuasion at all to commit to his wife and proactively reject the path that leads to the materialistic loneliness of our older original hero.

So it ends stronger than it begins, but it remains too neat and preordained for my tastes, and I’m not sure that the tie-in to that other volume is entirely satisfactory, either (though this one would stand fine on its own for readers who don’t spot the connection). As fun as it always is to see an Ebenezer or a George Bailey wake up from their ordeal feeling recommitted to what matters, the setup to get there just never effectively grabs me this time.

[Content warning for miscarriage, suicide, and alcohol abuse.]

★★★☆☆

Book Review: Empire of the Summer Moon: Quanah Parker and the Rise and Fall of the Comanches, the Most Powerful Indian Tribe in American History by S. C. Gwynne

Book #98 of 2026:

Empire of the Summer Moon: Quanah Parker and the Rise and Fall of the Comanches, the Most Powerful Indian Tribe in American History by S. C. Gwynne

An interesting topic that I’d previously known little about, how the warriors of the nomadic Comanche tribe resisted (and terrorized) white settlers across the nineteenth century. Modern histories tend to characterize the land-grabbing newcomers in that dynamic as the aggressors, rightfully pushing back against the older portrayal of the indigenous population as simple bloodthirsty brutes, but in the process they risk painting the natives as noble suffering victims instead. This text charts more of a middle course, in which their actions are contextualized by the racism and relentless expansionism that they faced and yet the atrocities they committed in turn are never once downplayed.

Contemporary sources document how formidable the Comanches were in battle, but also how gruesome they could be towards their perceived enemies. They tortured and mutilated unarmed opponents, they enslaved and gang-raped women, and in at least one case, they seized and murdered a defenseless infant right in front of his mother. Author S. C. Gwynne recounts all that for us in harrowing detail, although in my opinion the specifics of the various military engagements kind of blur into each other after a while. Then in the back half of the book, he turns his attention to the particular subject of Quanah Parker, a brilliant strategic leader who nonetheless saw his people ultimately reduced and defeated and went on to live a strange second life as a reservation celebrity and unofficial ambassador for his race.

It’s a compelling and informative tale, if overly long, but I do have to object to some of the language that the writer uses, in which the tribal members are described as uncivilized, barbarian, primitive, savage, stone-aged, and all manner of other colorful terms to suggest an overall inferiority to the western forces opposite them. It’s maddeningly bigoted and unprofessional for a title published as recently as 2010, and casts a pallor over the entire work as a result.

★★★☆☆

TV Review: Mad Men, season 1

TV #29 of 2026:

Mad Men, season 1

There’s a lot to enjoy in the first season of this stylish period drama, which is already living up to its reputation as one of the better shows of the so-called Peak TV era. It’s an antihero character study supported by a healthy ensemble — nearer to The Sopranos than Breaking Bad in that regard, which fits with its pedigree — while further representing a meditation on its chosen moment in American history. The sixties are here, and they’re bringing a closer consideration and rejection of traditional roles like gendered expectations in the workplace. It’s quite telling how the Nixon-Kennedy presidential campaign largely brackets this debut run, and that the employees of the Sterling Cooper advertising agency seemingly all support the former candidate — and yet it’s his younger and more liberal opponent who ultimately wins, as we the audience with the dramatic irony of our future knowledge have known all along that he would. We can likewise sense similar upsets to the established order on the horizon, even if none of them have sprung for these particular New Yorkers just yet.

Amidst all the cigarette smoke is our protagonist Don Draper, who doesn’t resemble Tony Soprano much on the surface but does share some of his borderline-sociopathic tendencies. The two figures are also alike in often being surrounded by even worse people, which makes it easier for them to win our allegiance despite their massive flaws. Don may be an adulterer, but he’s relatively committed to the two love interests outside his marriage, in contrast to his boss Roger who seems to chase anything in a skirt. He may patronizingly belittle his wife, but he becomes an unexpected advocate for his secretary Peggy, granting her brainstorming and copywriting opportunities that the other men at his firm don’t think a woman like her should deserve. And so on.

As we learn, he’s hiding a big secret about his past and his true identity too, in a way that could only really work in that time before easy-to-access digitized records. I’m sure there’s more to dig into on that front ahead, but I like how it plays out here, with a would-be blackmailing plot that gets neatly punctured with the four sharp words of, “Mr. Campbell, who cares?”: a neat thematic reminder of the program’s apparent thesis that the illusion being sold can come to supplant the reality of any situation, if you aren’t careful about holding onto what matters.

A few stray issues keep me from delivering this year my highest critical rating. There’s an office romance and subsequent pregnancy revelation that both feel implausible to me, as though dictated by the writers rather than arising organically from the characters in question, and although I appreciate that the scripts don’t hold our hands in explaining every last detail, the subtleties of the plotting sometimes land as too inscrutable for my tastes. (It’s fun as a viewer to figure out what Don is doing with the oysters and the elevator, for example. It’s less enjoyable to scratch our heads over Betty giving a neighbor kid a cutting of her hair.) But those elements aside, I’m generally appreciating this story and looking forward to seeing where it goes next.

[Content warning for racism, homophobia, antisemitism, alcohol abuse, domestic abuse, sexual assault, gun violence, suicide, and gore.]

★★★★☆

Movie Review: Clerks II (2006)

Movie #30 of 2026:

Clerks II (2006)

Probably nobody’s favorite Kevin Smith picture, but a perfectly cromulent film nonetheless. It’s a worthy follow-up to the writer-director’s 1994 debut, bringing back the characters of Dante and Randal for a repeat round of dead-end drudgery while they indulge in existential crises and vulgarity respectively in front of their aghast customers and sheltered younger coworker. The two friends have shifted from the adjoining convenience and video rental stores to a fast-food restaurant — and specifically Mooby’s, the fictional McDonald’s knockoff previously featured in Dogma (1999) and Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back (2001) — but otherwise their lives haven’t changed much across the preceding decade.

Or, rather, Dante’s is about to, and it’s giving him all kinds of nervous angst. He’s on the cusp of moving out of state with his fiancée, but as we soon learn, he’s not all that into her and is instead harboring a pretty massive mutual crush on his manager Becky, as played by a charming early-career Rosario Dawson. His bossy current partner doesn’t really seem to love him either, which makes it easy to root for the workers to make things work and ignore how our hero is firmly established as a serial adulterer by this point.

With the exception of a brief intro and coda bookending the story, all this plays out over the course of a single day, as did the original Clerks. It’s another fun dose of Seinfeldian nothingness peppered with pop culture references and Randal’s offensive philosophical musings, which here include him misunderstanding and then insisting he can ‘reclaim’ a racial slur. It’s absurdly outrageous — as is the bestiality performance he arranges later on — and reads like Smith seeing how far he can push the envelope on an R-rating, but at least he’s not our viewpoint character. That is, we’re clearly meant to find his antics as inappropriate as everyone else does, while still hopefully laughing at them regardless (and accepting him as a worldly voice of reason when he speaks up to puncture his buddy’s performative self-righteousness and moping). Jay and Silent Bob are also on hand, fulfilling their usual role of additional profane comic relief.

This movie came out the year I graduated high school, and 20 years on, it remains the latest View Askewniverse title that I’ve ever seen. But I can certainly relate to the cast better now as a thirty-something in the workforce myself, and I don’t think it’s aged as poorly as some of the other releases in this loose series have. After all, what could be more timeless than the feeling of being stuck on a shift with a loudmouth offering his unsolicited advice and complaints about the Lord of the Rings trilogy?

[Content warning for ableism and homophobia, including slurs.]

★★★☆☆