Column Anime Spotlight Earthquakes, Magical Girls, and Modern Mythology: The Death of Minky Momo How one infamous episode led to the birth of a legend… By Leah Thomas | Published on January 29, 2026 Credit: Ashi Productions Comment 3 Share New Share Credit: Ashi Productions The day before I sat down to write this, an earthquake struck Tottori, in the region I called home for three years. At a magnitude of 6.2, it was large, but by no means devastating by Japanese standards. I messaged my friends in Yonago, and they sent reassurances alongside photos of broken dishes. “We are okay. It was very scary.”  Somewhere down the line, I chose a life that chases earthquakes. I lived in Taiwan, then California, and now Japan. However, I remain ill-prepared. I grew up in Michigan where tornado, fire, severe storm, and even shooting drills were commonplace, but I was in my mid-twenties putting on cosplay makeup for an anime convention in a Los Angeles apartment when a San Diegan friend told me that what I should be doing during an earthquake was not saying, “Oh my gosh, it’s still going?” but rather finding a sturdy doorframe to brace myself against. “Doorframes are the sturdiest places in most houses,” she told me, while the tremors rattled mascara tubes and wigs on a glass coffee table. “They taught us that in school.” Of course, students today are taught differently, as the doorframe theory has since been widely debunked. But at least she had some inkling of what to do. It occurred to me then that while I was well-versed in the myriad ways to get a car unstuck from snow or how to manage when an inevitable snow-effect blizzard knocked out our power and toilets and faucets stopped working, I would flail helplessly during a Big One. But truly, how much of disaster preparation is a delusion? I admire the cult classic film The Iron Giant for many reasons, including the film’s depiction of students watching a disaster prevention film about nuclear warfare. It’s a cutting satire of actual Duck and Cover videos released in the 1950s. A student is shown hiding under his desk when the bombs fall, and though the classroom is burned to a radioactive sizzle, his desk is unharmed! While this is useless advice when it comes to surviving a nuclear holocaust, friend, geophysicist, and fellow Reactor columnist Kali Wallace assures me that ducking and covering during earthquakes is sound advice, as most people are harmed due to falling objects. While a nuclear holocaust is arguably much more challenging catastrophe to contend with than an earthquake, even in the face of death, decisive action is preferable to panic. The only thing more reassuring than taking action is, perhaps, blaming something for the disasters. Scientific explanations aside, credit for disasters has long been given to gods or devils or the sins of many or karma. For my part, I believe the science, but enjoy the folklore, especially when it gets weird. On this front, unsurprisingly, Japan does not disappoint. A persistent folktale originating in the 17th century claims that earthquakes are not entirely natural disasters, but rather preternatural ones caused by the wriggling of Namazu, an enormous catfish who dwells beneath the earth. According to legend, Namazu has been held captive beneath a foundation stone at Kashima shrine in Ibaraki prefecture for centuries. Namazu becomes ornery sometimes and, if not properly guarded by the enshrined god Takemikazuchi, the big fish flings himself about and the earth trembles. (No tea, no shade, but Takemikazuchi must really be sleeping on the job, given that Japan’s Meteorological Society clocks in around 1,500 earthquakes annually.) Japan, which has one of the world’s most advanced earthquake detection systems, known globally as the EEW (Earthquake Early Warning), has toughened its responses after centuries of earthquakes wreaking havoc—but there are no preventative measures to be taken against the human imagination. Today, I am writing about a little anime girl who, since the ‘80s, has sometimes been blamed for earthquakes.  Birth of a Mythology: The Ballad of Minky Momo Credit: Ashi Productions Magical Princess Minky Momo, in many ways, was a pioneer in the mahou shoujo (magical girl) subgenre. Beginning in March of 1982, the series aired on TV Tokyo on Thursdays at 5:55 pm, an ideal timeslot to snag the attention of kids after school. Magical Princess Minky Momo is credited with being the first magical girl anime to incorporate animal mascots, which have since become a genre staple. Her transformation sequence, which paired music to her movements, was also groundbreaking, and the series is said to have directly inspired Creamy Mami (I know, I know, these names are… something), which maintains a devoted fanbase even today. Minky Momo is undeniably cute, if generic in appearance—pink hair, yellow ribbon, blue dress. She is not of Earth, but hails from a sky-kingdom known as Fenarinarsa; writer Takeshi Shuto adapted the mouthful of a place name from a musical he wrote in high school called The Man from Finalinasa, after realizing “Finalinasa” would be difficult for Japanese speakers to pronounce. Fenarinarsa is home to countless copyright-free fairy tale characters, and Momo and her three animal companions are directly inspired by Momotaro. Fenarinarsa is in danger because it can only remain in Earths’ orbit if people on Earth have hopes and dreams, which, erm, was surprisingly tough during the ‘80s bubble economy. So Minky Momo goes to Earth and, like Superman, moves in with a childless couple. From then on, she uses her magic powers to transform into a teenage version of herself that, à la Barbie, takes on different roles in order to solve life’s problems and bring happiness to human beings. She’ll be your vet, your hairdresser, your police officer, whatever you like! Schmaltzy? Yes. Typical of the subgenre? Yes, at that point in time. Harmless? Probably, and I am not one to disdain programming intended to motivate children to do good deeds. It is all too easy for the world to dismiss the things girls like as empty and worthless, and I do not doubt that its target audience found much to love about the anime, which had high-quality animation and a heroine worth admiring. Kids are not cynical, jaded old weebs like yours truly. Of course, inspiring little kids was not the real intention of the people paying for the show, and when Minky Momo merchandise failed to meet market goals, toy company Popy pulled sponsorship. When that happened, the show was destined for cancellation. The creative team behind Minky Momo accepted this defeat with a decided lack of grace. No, Minky Momo did not go quietly into that soft night. Instead, in a clear act of vengeance as petty as it is iconic, the show’s creators decided to murder Minky Momo. Her cause of death? An early, unforgettable example of Truck-kun. Minky Momo saves a child in the road, only for a truck full of toys to barrel right through her. Cut to a shot of her gravestone, complete with a funeral portrait. Credit: Ashi Productions In short? A lighthearted children’s TV program ran over its young protagonist and cut straight to the graveyard way back in 1983. Eat your heart out, Game of Thrones.  Now, Shuto claims this gruesome ending was always on the table just in case funding was pulled, but come on. The murderous truck was full of toys. A statement was being made. …And then immediately retconned, because Popy reinstated funding to Minky Momo in order to sell a dragon-themed pair of scissors that they already had in production. Ashi Productions agreed to shoehorn a dragon character into the show. And so, within minutes of her death scene, Minky Momo was reincarnated as a human baby. Ashi must have been a real rollercoaster of an office environment in this era. The dragon character, called Kajira, was beloved by no one involved in production. His role was to bite and eat everything and repeatedly say only his own name, but mostly to sell those damn scissors. All of this makes for an amusing romp through weird ‘80s anime lore, and it isn’t hard to see the animators as punchy rebels in this scenario—at least until they doubled back. Animators are often overworked and unappreciated and have every right to protest. However, writing this piece has made me consider another perspective (I am a sentimental creature, and I will not apologize)… The scenario becomes much less funny when you consider the little girls at home who probably loved Minky Momo and her adventures and watched her death unfold onscreen in abject horror. The resentment animators rightfully felt (and still feel) toward their officious overlords aside, growing up is tough, man. I wonder if Minky Momo was to some Japanese kids what Artax from The NeverEnding Story was to so many Americans. Her death may have been a formative experience. I have written before about anime’s treatment of girls, both the good and the bad, but truck-kun doesn’t get the final word this time. Nor does the toy company, or the production company, or the show’s disturbing and unintended popularity among the burgeoning lolicon subculture at the time. Minky Momo’s legacy would continue on, albeit in odd and unexpected ways. Perhaps it was the weird dichotomy between innocence and adulthood that motivated audiences to see further darkness in the series. A show that ended so violently is probably more sinister than it appears, they reckoned… whatever the reasoning, someone, somewhere, observed a bizarre connection between episode 46, “The Day the Magic Died,” and the trembling of the earth, and a legend was born. The Curse of Minky Momo Credit: Ashi Productions Centuries after stories of catfish causing earthquakes became commonplace in Japan, the would-be final episode of Minky Momo aired, accompanied by a superimposed onscreen alert that an earthquake had struck the Kanto region. Viewers at the time joked that Minky Momo had used her magic to take revenge for her unjust demise. Once is a joke, but when the same coincidence happens twice, things start getting weird. Later that year, on May 26th, the 1983 Sea of Japan Earthquake devastated the Tohoku region when the resulting tsunami caused 104 deaths. This earthquake occurred within hours of the broadcast of “Don’t Say Goodbye,” the final episode of Minky Momo. It is probably here that the urban legend really began taking root. And the coincidences continued. During a rebroadcast of the series in 1989, an earthquake struck Aomori the day episode 46 aired. And then, in 1995, the Kobe earthquake, a truly catastrophic disaster, coincided with another rebroadcast of Minky Momo’s death. At least 5,000 people died, and the city of Kobe still bears the marks of its impact. I have met people who remember the quake and still shudder when recalling it.  I wonder if it was at this juncture that the discourse changed from, “Minky Momo is cursing us!” to “Minky Momo is trying to warn us!” Because all these curse allegations haven’t led to depictions of Minky Momo as a villain—if anything, she is seen as a girl fighting to defend the earth, even as her murder is seen as the cause of so much destruction. Japan is a nation that experiences multiple earthquakes a day, and I am not a superstitious person. But I am fascinated by the stories that shape our world, like so many horror and fantasy fans. The supernatural is compelling regardless of your belief in it—while I think the obvious answer to the Minky Momo/earthquake question is that correlation is not causation, at the same time, I love this legend for all kinds of reasons, not least of which is this: the senseless death of a little girl at the hands of her creator should not go unnoticed. This is true even for fictional little girls. The Birth of a Legend Credit: Ashi Productions What does it mean to mythologize a fictional character? The curse of Minky Momo reminds me of other modern characters that have been linked with tragedy. In 2014, two fourteen-year-old girls attempted to murder a friend as a sacrifice to the creepypasta character Slender Man. The man who murdered John Lennon cited The Catcher in the Rye’s Holden Caulfield as an inspiration, the first of several instances in which the book was reportedly carried by disturbed individuals who committed acts of violence. I am never one to blame entertainment media for violence, to be clear—it’s much too slippery a slope, and far too big of a discussion to begin unpacking here. But the sway a fictional character can have on the human psyche is fascinating. I would argue that far more characters have provided positive inspiration throughout history. This is never as newsworthy as specific instances of violence or tragedy, of course, and feels like a more amorphous catch-all: Yes, kids are inspired by Peter Parker and Sailor Moon and Luffy, and we do not question that. We rarely seek reasons for goodness, but we always seek reasons for evil. But earthquakes and human beings are not the same. An earthquake’s tremors, even if caused by a grumpy catfish, are not selfish actions, but mindless seismic activity. It is fascinating that we continue to anthropomorphize forces of nature to this day, but pairing up the violent, uncontrollable shaking of the earth with an anime girl somehow feels especially human of us. I don’t believe in the curse, but I do admire its tenacity, and what it says about the power that stories have over our world. On this front, I want to end this with one more fact about Namazu. Despite the chaos he inflicts on Japan, the giant catfish is not actually seen as a villainous monster. In fact, he is viewed a little bit fondly by the public, and not only because he has cute whiskers. In the years before billionaires could flee on their private jets, earthquakes were a unique equalizer. Earthquakes were as devastating to the wealthy as they were for the poor; the wealthy, of course, had far more land and assets to lose. In the wake of a disaster, their wealth might be redistributed among the poor. This giant catfish has something in common with Robin Hood: Just as the tides of public opinion turned Minky Momo into a harbinger of a coming disaster rather than the cause, in the Edo period Namazu gradually came to be credited with decimating the ill-gotten gains of overbearing feudal lords. For all that the world is unfair to creatures both real and fictional, I find this tendency—to shift our perspective from fearing a curse to embracing a gift—a hopeful aspect of being human. Life is very unfair right now, and likely to remain that way. So I’ll cling to whatever peculiar justice stories have to offer for as long as the world allows art to exist.  Thanks for looking out for us, Momo.[end-mark] The post Earthquakes, Magical Girls, and Modern Mythology: The Death of Minky Momo appeared first on Reactor.

Movies & TV Star Trek: Starfleet Academy Qapla’! — Star Trek: Starfleet Academy’s “Vox in Excelso” By Keith R.A. DeCandido | Published on January 29, 2026 Credit: Paramount+ Comment 67 Share New Share Credit: Paramount+ Well, it’s about damn time. While the Klingon Empire played a big role in Discovery’s first two seasons, when it was taking place in the twenty-third century, they were never even mentioned after they vaulted forward into the thirty-second at the top of the third season. Over the course of the final three seasons of Discovery, we learned the far-future fates of so many of Trek’s various alien species—Vulcans, Romulans, Trill, Andorians, Tellarites, Orions, and others in less detail, but at least knew they were still around—but nothing about the Klingons at all. The characters of Lura and Jay-Den in Starfleet Academy are the first we’ve heard of any Klingons in the thirty-second century, and we still didn’t get any notion of the status of the Klingon Empire. In “Vox in Excelso,” we finally get some information, and it’s heartbreaking. The Burn apparently completely destroyed the Klingon homeworld of Kronos. The Klingon Empire, which has been a superpower in the galaxy ever since we first saw them in the original series’ “Errand of Mercy” in 1967, is now a nomadic, broken people, refugees stumbling through the galaxy trying to survive. Jay-Den, we learn, lived on Krios (established as a Klingon colony in TNG’s “The Mind’s Eye”) with his parents and brother. In these days of the Klingon Diaspora, Klingons have clung even more firmly to their warrior ethos, and the importance of learning to hunt. The latter is particularly worth noting. Klingon proclivity for hunting was established in TNG’s “Birthright, Part II” (one of your humble reviewer’s favorite episodes), but as we saw it with the empire at its height, it was an indulgence, a sport. But for Jay-Den and his family, it’s a necessity to survive. The Klingons of the thirty-second century are also completely uninterested in accepting charity. Since the Burn was reversed, the Federation is finally in a position to help them, and at the top of this episode, a ship carrying a bunch of Klingon refugees has suffered catastrophic mechanical failure. But the Klingons aren’t interested in help. They want to fend for themselves. Back in DS9’s “The Way of the Warrior,” Sisko quoted Curzon Dax as saying that the only people who can handle Klingons are Klingons, and this episode embodies that observation. (Your humble reviewer established that Curzon said that after living through the Betreka Nebula Incident, an event referenced in that same DS9 episode, and which I explored in the novel The Art of the Impossible.) Credit: Paramount+ In fact, Ake employs that truism, as she reaches out to Obel, a now-very-old Klingon diplomat she has a pre-Burn history with, played with gusto by David Keeley, whose scenes with Holly Hunter are magnificent. The pair of them have an obvious and fond history, which appears to be at least partly sexual. It’s especially entertaining to watch them together, as Keeley has a foot of height on Hunter and that’s before you realize that Keeley is wearing big stompy Klingon boots and Hunter is, as it the character’s wont, barefoot in most of their scenes together. Obel, however, is unwilling to accept the Federation’s charity. There’s a world very much like Kronos called Faan Alpha that the Federation is willing to give to the Klingons, but they won’t accept it. Obel does, however, offer to find out if Jay-Den’s family was among those who died in the refugee ship disaster. (Why nobody ever brings up the Federation’s aid to the Klingon Empire after Praxis’ destruction in The Undiscovered Country, which is what led to the Federation-Klingon alliance, is left as an exercise for the viewer.) Because this is the series at a school, we have to have the cadets learning stuff, and the focus this time around is on a debating competition, run by the EMH. This causes two separate problems for Jay-Den. One is that he absolutely detests public speaking and tends to freeze up. The other is that he wishes his debate topic to be the Klingon Diaspora. The EMH is reluctant at first, but eventually agrees that the topicality of the subject because of the loss of the refugee ship is exactly why it should be discussed. We learn this week that Caleb is an expert debater, which, honestly, isn’t that much of a surprise, as being a fast talker would be a requirement for living on your own on the run from the age of six onward. At first he offers to partner with Jay-Den, but the Klingon views that charity with the same disdain that Obel does. Instead, Jay-Den winds up debating the point against Caleb. We also see Darem learning how to be a team player by aiding Jay-Den—though, of course, his primary goal is to assist in his hated roommate Caleb losing—by showing him some Khionian meditation techniques. Credit: Paramount+ Indeed, the notion of people helping each other while saving face is all over this episode. It’s writ small in Darem using sticking it to Caleb as an excuse for why he helps Jay-Den. It’s writ larger in Jay-Den’s backstory. Jay-Den’s desire to become a physician is at least in part due to watching his brother die from wounds that could be healed with Federation medicine. Or, indeed, any medicine better than what Klingons can provide for each other in the state they’re in. That same brother also wanted Jay-Den to pursue his dream—unlike their parents. When he goes on his first hunt, Jay-Den refuses to kill the bird he’s is chasing, as he does not wish to become a warrior. His father angrily grabs the bow and arrow and shoots at the bird in a rage, missing it by a mile. His parents then abandon him on Krios, leaving him to go to Starfleet Academy on his own. It takes a come-to-Kahless conversation between Jay-Den and Lura to make Jay-Den realize the truth there. Klingons in a rage don’t get careless—it focuses them. Klingons are used to rage, so if his father missed the bird, it means he did it on purpose. Again: charity through deceptive means that allows the person providing the charity to save face while still doing the service. Jay-Den’s father missed on purpose, under the cover of rage, and then departed, which not only respected Jay-Den’s wishes that the animal not be harmed, but also gave him the impetus to follow his dream and go to Starfleet Academy. But it also allowed his father to maintain his honor as a warrior. That scene also gives a bit of Lura’s backstory. Her parents were part of a group of free Jem’Hadar and Klingon warriors, who apparently wandered the galaxy beating each other up or something. I’m really hoping we learn more about that group, because it sounds like a fun bunch… In the end, Jay-Den is able to win the debate by passionately arguing that Klingons need to be allowed to be Klingons. That when they’ve lost everything, it’s even more important to hold onto what they can hold onto, in this case, their honor, and their spirit. And in the end, Ake and Vance are able to work out a way to show charity without forcing the Klingons to accept it as such. They summon Obel to Faan Alpha and declare the refugees to be trespassing in Federation space. Vance, in essence, declares war on the empire. What follows is a hilariously and deliberately lame-ass space battle in which weapons fire bounces off shields with no physical damage to the ships (at one point, a damage report is given as “shields at 95%,” which I’m fairly certain is the highest that number has ever been in a line of dialogue describing shield damage), in which no one is killed, and for which the awesome Klingon leitmotif from The Motion Picture is played on the soundtrack. After only a few minutes, Starfleet surrenders. Obel declares Faan Alpha to be the Klingons’ as spoils of war. Charity given. Face saved. As someone who has adored the Klingons since being blown away by Michael Ansara’s Kang and John Colicos’ Kor on the original series, and who has written a significant amount of Klingon fiction over the decades, I absolutely loved this episode. Writing the Klingons as a broken power and reduced to being refugees is a good choice, as it shows the negative consequences of the Burn to a people we’re invested in as viewers. And it also reminds us that just reversing the Burn isn’t the complete solution for everyone. One of the hallmarks of Star Trek has always been that the compassionate solution is preferred to the violent one. This is a lovely example of a solution that is both violent and compassionate—fitting for a story about Klingons, truly—and still embodying the hope for a better future that has been baked into Star Trek since the beginning.[end-mark] The post Qapla’! — <i>Star Trek: Starfleet Academy</i>’s “Vox in Excelso” appeared first on Reactor.

Movies & TV Bridgerton Bridgerton Season 4 Gives Class Struggle a Cinderella Sheen It’s still Bridgerton, but questions of class division power its fourth season By Lacy Baugher Milas | Published on January 29, 2026 Image credit: Liam Daniel/Netflix Comment 0 Share New Share Image credit: Liam Daniel/Netflix Four seasons in, Netflix’s Bridgerton has a formula that works. Known for its steamy romances, candy-colored costumes, and effortlessly diverse Regency setting that’s anything but traditional, it’s a historical drama with a thoroughly contemporary feel. This isn’t a criticism, by the way—the show is delightfully fun escapism that manages to remain true to the swoony spirit of its source material even as it updates the saga of the sprawling family at its center for a modern audience. And in season four, the show pulls off its greatest trick yet, reimagining one of its most problematic stories in a way that often feels richer and more engaging than the original.  Based on the third book in Julia Quinn’s megapopular romance series, season four backtracks to tell the story of Benedict (Luke Thompson), the Bridgerton family’s artistic and free-spirited second son, who has not always fit in with his more marriage and family-minded siblings. Previous seasons of the show have touched on his frequently Bohemian lifestyle, his love of painting, and his hedonistic sexual pursuits with both women and men. Perhaps it was always inevitable that Benedict’s story—and the romance at its center—would not follow a conventional path.  Rather than a simple friends-to-lovers romance or a fake relationship that turns real, Benedict’s story takes many of its narrative cues from Cinderella, featuring everything from a glamorous transformation and a hidden identity to a wicked stepmother and a misplaced (and personally identifying) fashion item left behind at a party. The season begins with a masquerade ball, and much of that fairytale feel lingers throughout the four episodes of Volume 1 (all of which were available for review). But underneath the masks and mistaken identities, Bridgerton season four is really a story about class. And it is through the introduction of Benedict’s love interest Sophie Baek (Yerin Ha) that the show is forced to confront, in some small ways at least, some of the most uncomfortable elements of its own premise.  Don’t get me wrong, this is still Bridgerton. The housemaids and shopgirls who quietly make the town run don’t suddenly unionize. The upper-class elites aren’t miraculously agitating for a minimum wage or fair housing laws. There are still lines the show won’t cross. And maybe this means the bar is in Hell, but it still feels important that the show is at long last acknowledging the stories of those who live outside the privileged world that the Bridgertons and their friends inhabit. Sophie, you see, is a maid. She’s not genteely impoverished or down on her luck; she’s a servant who performs manual labor, precisely the kind of character who has haunted the edges of Bridgerton’s previous seasons but never really directly taken part. And, not to put too fine a point on it, but Sophie is great. Image: Liam Daniel/Netflix Resourceful, intelligent, and kind, she never lets her difficult personal situation—an orphan with a stepmother who resents her and no future to speak of—make her cruel, cynical, or incapable of embracing joy. Her unabashed delight at simply being allowed to attend the Bridgerton masquerade is infectious, her honesty and complete lack of guile refreshing in a world where performance and presentation often carry more weight than truth. She’s a heroine whose happiness is easy to root for, so much so that no matter how you may feel about Benedict as a potential life partner, you’ll find yourself hoping these crazy kids can work it out, if only because Sophie wants it to so badly. It’s easy to see why this character has long been such a fan favorite, even if the book in which she is introduced is… well, let’s just call it problematic at best.  Bridgerton has always played a bit fast and loose with its source material. The show has both race and genderbent major characters (including Sophie herself). It’s moved the order of various narrative events around to suit its own purpose. And sometimes, it’s even made them up out of whole cloth. That season two love triangle between Kate Sharma (Simone Ashley), her sister Edwina (Charithra Chandran), and Anthony Bridgerton (Jonathan Bailey)? Doesn’t happen in the books. The revelation that Penelope Featherington (Nicola Coughlan) is actually Lady Whistledown? Happens much earlier in the show than on the page. Your mileage may, and likely will, vary on how well all of these changes, reorderings, replacements, and expansions have played out onscreen. Sometimes it turned out really well. And sometimes… not so much.  In the case of Benedict, the show has genuinely put in the work to make the shifts in his character feel earned. The early episodes of season four lean into the idea of Benedict as a rake, highlighting his multiple sexual partners, disdain for the rules of polite society, and resentment toward the man-of-the-family role he’s being forced to assume while Anthony is in India. But he’s also portrayed as someone who is deeply lonely and unsure, convinced that he’ll never find a woman who can accept all the disparate and frequently conflicting identities that make him who he is. He’s been uniquely positioned to both find—and accept—a love that colors outside the boundaries established by aristocratic society and to appreciate Sopie’s particular brand of authenticity. Yes, it helps that their initial meeting essentially occurs Love is Blind-style, when neither really knows who the other is, but the masquerade also gives them both the freedom to be their truest selves—that is, after all, the whole point of a disguise. Thompson and Ha have a warm, genuine chemistry together, and their banter is easy and fun. This first half of the season definitely prioritizes yearning over sexual tension, as Benedict works to track down his mysterious masquerade dance partner and grows closer to Sophie-as-herself after rescuing her from a dangerous situation at a country party without realizing that the two are the same person. But this season largely belongs to Ha, who steals almost every scene she is in from her first moments onscreen—even when we as the audience don’t know who she is. Deftly shifting between determined grit, wistful joy, and desperate yearning, her Sophie is a woman made of many layers, and who has seen more than her fair share of struggle without allowing it to make her cynical or cruel.  But Sophie and Benedict are not season four’s only story. Much like last season, this outing has a much more deliberate ensemble feel, with multiple secondary plots and supporting characters getting considerable screentime in ways. Penelope and Eloise are drawn into Benedict’s hunt for the mysterious Lady in Silver, and his purported willingness to (maybe?) finally marry puts him at the center of the ton’s social season (and Queen Charlotte’s interest). We also get to see the early days of John and Francesca’s marriage, witness Hyacinth chomp at the bit for her own debut, and watch as Violet and Lady Danbury take tentative steps into chasing dreams tied to their own futures rather than that of their loved ones. In many ways, though Netflix split the show’s fourth outing into two volumes for some inscrutable reason, it still feels like the series’s most complete and well-balanced. Yes, its primary story is still Benedict’s, but his emotional journey is just one piece of a larger narrative whole. With half the season to go, it’s impossible to tell how Bridgerton’s decision to acknowledge that class exists in their candy-coated fairytale world will ultimately play out. But Sophie’s story offers a perspective we haven’t really seen before, and helps open up a corner of the Bridgerton universe that feels altogether new. Image: Liam Daniel/Netflix The Mondriches, after all, were business owners before their son inherited a title, and regularly hobnobbed with various members of the aristocratic elite. Sophie, for her part, is threatened with violence, penury, and homelessness over the course of these initial episodes as she loses her job, is forced to sell her belongings to survive, and endures sexual harassment in the name of keeping a roof over her head. While Bridgerton certainly has a… let’s just call it an idealistic view of the camaraderie amongst the downstairs employees of Grosvenor Square, the show doesn’t shy away from acknowledging how hard they work or how central the roles they play are when it comes to facilitating the lives of leisure the Bridgertons and others like them enjoy. It’s a new sort of self-awareness for this show, but one it deserves no small amount of credit for. Perhaps most importantly, the season makes a valiant effort to explore questions of class outside of Sophie’s storyline. We meet more downstairs workers than ever before in the space of these episodes, and a major subplot involves many of the ton’s most popular household servants and ladies’ maids advocating for better working conditions and higher pay. It’s far from perfect—no matter how much we love it, a show like Bridgerton is never going to have the capacity to do the complexities of these issues justice—but the fact that it’s at least taking the issue seriously (something we can’t really say for the book this season is based on) is worth a great deal. Here’s hoping season four can stick the landing in its back half.[end-mark] The post <i>Bridgerton</i> Season 4 Gives Class Struggle a Cinderella Sheen appeared first on Reactor.

News Outlander War Is Coming in the Trailer for the Final Season of Outlander But also books, and tiny little glasses By Molly Templeton | Published on January 29, 2026 Photo: Starz Comment 0 Share New Share Photo: Starz The seventh season of Outlander, as Reactor reviewer Natalie Zutter wrote, got “delightfully weird.” There was a very wild cliffhanger! About maybe-not-so-dead characters! Or, as the official mini-synopsis with this new season eight trailer so mildly puts it, “a haunting cliffhanger left fans questioning the true fate of Claire and Jamie’s first daughter, Faith.” That’s so vague. So very, very vague. The twist shocked even the actors, as they discussed in an interview that ran shortly after the season seven finale. “It’s a great cliffhanger — one that I think book and non-book fans are going to be surprised by,” said Sam Heughan (who plays Jamie Fraser). But what does it mean? You’ll have to watch and find out, one assumes. This trailer gets one of those awkward, goofy introductions where the stars present it to you, and then it’s all in on drama, including a prediction about Jamie Fraser’s possibly impending death. There is a lot of hugging and some very nervous children. Here’s the synopsis: Jamie and Claire soon find the war has followed them home to Fraser’s Ridge, now a thriving settlement that has grown and flourished in their absence. With new arrivals and changes made during their years away, the Frasers are confronted with the question of what they are willing to sacrifice for the place they call home and, more importantly, what they would sacrifice to stay together. While the Frasers keep a united front against outside intruders, family secrets finally coming to light threaten to tear them apart from the inside. Although they’ve left the war for America’s freedom behind, their fight for Fraser’s Ridge has only just begun. This last season also has a new title sequence, with a version of “The Skye Boat Song” performed by Annie Lennox. Outlander, which is based on the novels by Diana Gabaldon, stars Caitríona Balfe as Claire Fraser, Sam Heughan as Jamie Fraser, Sophie Skelton as Brianna MacKenzie, Richard Rankin as Roger MacKenzie, John Bell as Young Ian Murray, David Berry as Lord John Grey, Charles Vandervaart as William Ransom, Izzy Meikle-Small as Rachel Murray, Lauren Lyle as Marsali Fraser, and César Domboy as Fergus Fraser. The final season premieres on Starz on March 6th, with subsequent episodes releasing weekly on Fridays.[end-mark] The post War Is Coming in the Trailer for the Final Season of <i>Outlander</i> appeared first on Reactor.

News God of War Ólafur Darri Ólafsson Will Be Thor in God of War TV Series The actor’s previous credits include playing Mr. Drummond on Severance By Vanessa Armstrong | Published on January 29, 2026 Ólafsson photo Credit: Jónatan Grétarsson; Thor imagery courtesy of Sony Interactive Entertainment Comment 0 Share New Share Ólafsson photo Credit: Jónatan Grétarsson; Thor imagery courtesy of Sony Interactive Entertainment Casting for the adaptation of the popular video game franchise God of War is heating up. Earlier this month we found out that Ryan Hurst (who actually voices Thor in the video game) will play one of the leads, Kratos, and that Max Parker was on board to play Heimdall, the watchman of Asgard. Today, we got the news that Ólafur Darri Ólafsson will take on the role of Thor.The God of War television series will be based on 2018’s God of War and its sequel, God of War: Ragnarok. In those games, the character of Thor is a rather specific take on the Norse god. Here’s the official description of Ólafsson’s character: The God of Thunder is a mountain of a man who has weathered many a battle in his time but whose actions in a war fought long ago now haunt his waking hours. Once the loyal soldier of Asgard and his father’s right-hand man, Thor is now but a shadow of his former self as he drowns himself in alcohol and tries not to think of the price he paid. Keeping his wife and children at arm’s length has only deepened his isolation, but the power (and danger) of the God of Thunder is still there just beneath the surface. If you’ve watched the second season of Severance, you’re familiar with Ólafsson; the actor played Mr. Drummond, the intimidating Lumon executive who monitored many parts of the severed floors, including the company’s commitment to goat sacrifice. His other credits include The Meg, Somebody Somewhere, and Trapped. The God of War series, which has already been greenlit for two seasons, is currently in pre-production in Vancouver. It has Ronald D. Moore as showrunner, and comes from Sony Pictures Television and Amazon MGM Studios. No news yet on when it will go into production, much less premiere on Prime Video. [end-mark] The post Ólafur Darri Ólafsson Will Be Thor in <i>God of War</i> TV Series appeared first on Reactor.

Excerpts Horror Read an Excerpt From The Bone Queen by Will Shindler A mother’s search for her missing daughter battles against the shadows of a historic, dangerous legend. By Will Shindler | Published on January 29, 2026 Comment 0 Share New Share We’re thrilled to share an excerpt from The Bone Queen, a new horror-thriller by Will Shindler publishing with Minotaur Books on February 3. Single mother Jenna arrives on the tranquil shores of Athelsea fueled by the desperate hope to find Chloe, her teenage daughter who’s disappeared from their London home. She has no idea why—all she knows is that Chloe had changed in the previous two weeks, haunted by something, or someone, and the ferry ticket here is the only clue she has.As she explores the village and interacts with the locals, Jenna soon realizes a macabre secret is being hidden in plain sight. A dark legend of a vengeful woman called the Bone Queen is spoken of in hushed tones amongst the villagers, some of whom are frantically trying to suppress the tale that has long terrorized their lives.As Jenna starts to learn more about the Bone Queen and her previous victims, the village’s grip on reality begins to loosen and no one can say for sure who, or what, is responsible for the deaths and disappearances on Athelsea. Suffering from what she can no longer distinguish between paranoid hallucinations or real manifestations, Jenna must act quickly before Chloe is next…The Bone Queen has left her mark, and one day she’ll collect. Prologue The rain lashes across her face like a whip. She’s running into the night and even the trees feel like they’re conspiring against her, their gnarled branches twisting like the interlocked fingers of old men. These woods are dense, and she has no idea which direction to even head for. All she knows is her pursuer is gaining ground and what’s ahead can’t be worse than what’s behind. The earth beneath is wet and leafy and she can taste the salt on her lips from the sea which is rolling and roaring somewhere close. Panic forces her to quicken her pace. Her Nikes, bought with such pride in another time and place, are coming apart and she stumbles on a root sending her tumbling. For a second, she remains down, feeling the stitch in her chest mercifully subside a little. She considers staying put—hiding in the shadows. Then she hears it—hears her—that hint of cold laughter caught on the night air and knows it’s not an option. With a whimper, she forces herself back up onto her feet and starts running again. She tries to imagine a road on the other side of the trees and that thought gives her renewed hope. In her mind’s eye, she sees a car with its headlights cutting through the darkness like laser beams. A kind stranger leaning across to open the passenger door. An escape back to a world she should never have left, to people she should never have hurt. Behind her the urgent rush of her pursuer is getting louder, wood snapping underfoot as it scrabbles after her. If she’s caught, there won’t be any mercy shown. The tears streaming down her face are a distraction. The only thing that matters is getting away and she’s starting to lose faith that it’s even possible now—that the reach of what’s chasing her is too long. It feels like these woods have been waiting for her all her life and that this is where everything surely ends. She skids on some moss and crashes against something hard. There’s immediate sharp pain in her side. Something’s cut through her jeans into her thigh. She sees a huge fallen branch, jagged spikes of wood jutting out of it randomly, cloaked by the darkness. Swearing under her breath she reaches down and can feel the blood leaking through her fingers. She can’t stop herself from crying out—more in despair than pain. That’s a mistake and she knows it straight away. She hears it stop, imagines its head turning now, craning to listen before changing direction. There’s a pitter-patter as the rain begins to get heavier. Just as it has for the last week it quickly starts pounding down, the noise increasing with a rumble. She takes advantage of it and begins moving again. There’s a bank in front and she hauls herself up and over with a desperate heave. The woods seem to be thinning out now but everything’s a blur. She’s not sure what’s on the other side of these trees but is hoping for a break. Something, anything. Buy the Book The Bone Queen Will Shindler Buy Book The Bone Queen Will Shindler Buy this book from: AmazonBarnes and NobleiBooksIndieBoundTarget She finds herself on open ground and runs raggedly across the long grass, but not fast enough. And then her heart stops as it dawns on her where she is. There’s a short, battered fence in the middle distance, and on the other side of it she can hear the sea pounding against the rock face far below. There’s sheer terror now as she realizes there’s nowhere left for her to run, and she turns to face what’s coming. It’s her—of course it is. The thing she’s been running from for so long, and everything seems to coalesce at that moment. All she can hear now is a roaring in her ears and the cold seems to go right through her. The rain is sheeting down and the terrible cowled figure slowly, jerkily, raises an arm and holds it out towards her accusingly. Her nerve breaks. She turns and sprints towards the cliff edge, not looking back. Climbing the short fence she stands for a moment, pressing her back against its rotting wood. The silver-coin moon illuminates the rocks below, showing her the way—and without hesitation, she leaps into the abyss. Chapter 1 Today The first thing that hit her was the sound of the place. Seagulls—lots of them circling overhead, crying and squalling as the ferry inched closer. Some people enjoy traveling like this, but Jenna Tipton knew she definitely wasn’t one of them. The whole process was laborious and tiring and she felt sick. But that wasn’t because of the choppy waters—she’d been living with the nausea for days and was almost getting used to it. Almost. She knew there was only one thing that was going to make that go away. In her early forties, the last week had aged her badly. Her mousy brown hair had turned frizzy, her lips were dry and chapped, and her skin felt like battered old leather. But none of that mattered, not in the way they normally would. She’d been told Athelsea Island was stunning but now that they could see it properly, there was nothing that stood out about it. A small rock tucked thirty miles or so off the Cornish coast. In the summer months, it was overrun by tourists—but in the cold blast of February, the huddle of white-brick buildings clustered around the harbor looked more like the death of hope.  ‘Nearly there Jen. Are you okay?’ said a voice behind her and she turned to see her sister Hattie fiddling with her phone trying to get some sort of signal on it. Much as she loved her, Jenna hoped it wasn’t because she wanted to upload a picture of the bloody island onto her Insta. Then she felt bad for having the thought because without her she’d never have made it even this far. ‘I’m fine,’ she said, answering the question with a dirty fat lie. Hattie was three years younger. Wearing a navy fur-lined puffa jacket, she looked impossibly glamorous, which was standard. Long black locks cascaded around her neck, tousled from the wind, which made her seem even more stunning than usual. It was all the more impressive given how much she hated the sea. A city girl by nature, she’d had a phobia about water since childhood and had done a decent job of covering it since they’d set off. Jenna turned back to face the island, which was getting ever closer. ‘Have we made a mistake coming here?’ she said, but Hattie shook her head. ‘We’re following the breadcrumb trail, aren’t we? And from what we know this is the likeliest option, isn’t it?’ She said it as if explaining the search for a misplaced set of keys. ‘What if I’m wrong though?’ said Jenna, wincing as yet another blast of cold wet wind swept across them. ‘What if we’re wasting valuable time? What if this is just a self-indulgence and we miss something important back home because of it?’ The questions had been tormenting her all day and Hattie had already heard them several times over. ‘And what if the moon’s made of green cheese? More to the point—what if she is here? That’s why we’ve come, isn’t it? To bring her home?’ Jenna nodded—there was that. She could see the bay a bit more clearly as the ferry got closer and its attractions were becoming a little more obvious now. There were boarded-up seafront cafés and restaurants which presumably did a roaring trade fleecing tourists during the summer. Pretty cobbled streets divided them, and old-fashioned-style signposts pointed the way to attractions such as the Athelsea Lighthouse and the Haunted Coves. ‘It looks dead,’ said Hattie and she was right. It also had that superficiality that all these kinds of places possessed which crowds and fine weather helped mask. In ordinary circumstances, it wouldn’t take Jenna more than an hour to get bored here, but these weren’t ordinary circumstances. ‘Who lives here?’ she said. ‘And why would you live here? I mean—it’s like this during the winter, then gets overrun by drunken twenty-somethings in the summer. I can’t see the attraction.’ Hattie smiled. ‘That’s because you’re middle-aged.’ ‘Thanks, mate. Don’t get too cocky—you’re not that far behind me.’ The dynamic between them sometimes felt like it had been frozen in aspic from when they were teenagers. The passing of time didn’t seem to affect them. It felt as if it would always be like that. ‘You know what I mean, Jen. I imagine the population here is largely retired. It’s not meant for people like us, is it?’ ‘So why in the world would she come here?’ And for that, her sister had no answer. The Bone Queen. Copyright © 2026 by Will Shindler. All rights reserved. The post Read an Excerpt From <i>The Bone Queen</i> by Will Shindler appeared first on Reactor.

News The Chain The Chain: Damon Lindelof to Adapt Adrian McKinty’s Horror Novel for HBO Stephen King has dubbed the book “nightmarish, propulsive and original” By Vanessa Armstrong | Published on January 29, 2026 Damon Lindelof photo credit: Gage Skidmore, CC BY-SA 3.0 via Wikimedia Commons Comment 0 Share New Share Damon Lindelof photo credit: Gage Skidmore, CC BY-SA 3.0 via Wikimedia Commons Damon Lindelof, whose previous credits include showrunning Lost, The Leftovers, and Watchmen, has found his next project. According to The Hollywood Reporter, he will be working on a new series for HBO called The Chain, an adaptation of a 2019 eponymous novel by Adrian McKinty. Here’s the blurb for that novel, per Goodreads: It’s something parents do every morning: Rachel Klein drops her daughter at the bus stop and heads into her day. But a cell phone call from an unknown number changes everything: it’s a woman on the line, informing her that she has Kylie bound and gagged in her back seat, and the only way Rachel will see her again is to follow her instructions exactly: pay a ransom, and find another child to abduct. This is no ordinary kidnapping: the caller is a mother herself, whose son has been taken, and if Rachel doesn’t do as she’s told, the boy will die.“You are not the first. And you will certainly not be the last.” Rachel is now part of The Chain, an unending and ingenious scheme that turns victims into criminals—and is making someone else very rich in the process. The rules are simple, the moral challenges impossible; find the money fast, find your victim, and then commit a horrible act you’d have thought yourself incapable of just twenty-four hours ago.But what the masterminds behind The Chain know is that parents will do anything for their children. It turns out that kidnapping is only the beginning. “From the moment I heard the wild and original premise of Adrian’s book, I was shocked, surprised and angry I hadn’t thought of it myself,” Lindelof told The Hollywood Reporter. “I’ve always wanted to try to adapt a great thriller and this one has all the dark, weird, exhilarating touches that fire up my imagination. I feel so fortunate to re-team with [Francesca Orsi, Casey Bloys and Michael Ellenberg], who first brought me to HBO fifteen years ago and I can’t wait to make The Chain a memorable link in their outstanding legacy.” The novel is also touted as being “Jaws for parents,” which I take to mean that a frenzy of sharks is behind the entire kidnapping scheme. Lindelof has drafted a pilot script with Carly Wray and Breannah Gibson. No news yet on casting or when the HBO show will go into production. [end-mark] The post <i>The Chain</i>: Damon Lindelof to Adapt Adrian McKinty’s Horror Novel for HBO appeared first on Reactor.

News Star Trek: Starfleet Academy Starfleet Academy Reveals What Happened to the Klingon Empire After The Burn The Star Trek series takes place in the 32nd century after the cataclysmic event By Vanessa Armstrong | Published on January 29, 2026 Photo Credit: Brooke Palmer/Paramount+ Comment 0 Share New Share Photo Credit: Brooke Palmer/Paramount+ Warning: This post contains spoilers for the fourth episode of Star Trek: Starfleet Academy, “Vox in Excelso.” The latest episode of Star Trek: Starfleet Academy focuses on the Klingon cadet, Jay-Den (Karim Diané), and also reveals what has happened to the Klingon people in the 32nd century. After The Burn, the Klingons’ home planet of Qo’noS was destroyed, leaving the surviving Klingons dispersed across the galaxy. Jay-Den, for example, grew up on the former colony, Krios, before heading to the Academy. In an interview with /Film, co-showrunner Alex Kurtzman explained how the writers approached the Klingons for the series. “We’ve only ever known the Klingons as being this powerful race with an empire, with a home planet, and the idea of who you become when you lose that seed of power and you become a diaspora was really compelling to us,” he said. The Klingons face another setback in “Vox in Excelso” when a refugee ship explodes. The Federation wants to help them, and even has found a planet, Faan Alpha, that could become their new homeworld. Klingons, however, don’t accept charity. But Jay-Den, in part by connecting to who he is and what it means to be Klingon in a diaspora, comes up with a way for the surviving Klingons to “win” the planet in “battle.” The Klingons now have a home planet once again. “[This] gives us somewhere beautiful to go from here because now the Klingons get to rebuild, and that’s super exciting,” co-showrunner Noga Landau told /Film. New episodes of Star Trek: Starfleet Academy premiere on Paramount+ on Thursdays. [end-mark] The post <i>Starfleet Academy</i> Reveals What Happened to the Klingon Empire After The Burn appeared first on Reactor.

Unlucky days aren’t just a spooky movie trope. Around the world, calendars come with their own little landmines: dates people dodge, rituals they follow just in case, and numbers that make elevators skip a button. Sure, you’ve almost certainly heard of Friday the 13th. But that’s only one flavor of bad-luck anxiety. In other places, […] The post The 10 Unluckiest Days from Around the World appeared first on Listverse.

Science fiction creators love to dream up future worlds in which to set their stories. The Back to the Future sequel imagined a version of 2015 populated with hoverboards and flying cars. When 2015 came around, life was a little more mundane. Technology failed to reach the lofty levels the movie’s writers hoped for. As […] The post Ten Bizarre Visions of 2026 from Fiction appeared first on Listverse.