The Glass Heart - Marty Holland

Down on his luck Curt Blair is waiting out a rainstorm in a “ritzy hash joint” just outside of Hollywood, USA when he steals a fancy camel hair overcoat then flees intending to sell the coat. It’s how he makes his living these days – ripping off suckers' coats, rifling the pockets for treasures and cash, then selling the ransacked coat. But this time all hell breaks loose and he’s being chased. While hiding from his pursuers he ends up in the backyard of Virginia Block’s home. She mistakes him for the handyman she recently hired from an agency. Curt being the opportunist that he is wisely plays along and learns the job comes with a free room and kitchen privileges. So he accepts the job, gains a cheap salary of $20/week and a place to stay and eat.

Later the same day aspiring actress Lynn York shows up at the boarding house. She is paying $60/month for an upstairs room, but no kitchen privileges for her. Mrs. B is greedy and a miser we soon figure out. Within hours Curt and Lynn are hooking up and doing the dirty deed in the dirty basement where while putting the moves on Lynn Curt is bothered by the irritating sound of a dripping pipe. He vows to fix the leak though that task is not on the insanely long list of arduous work Mrs. Block expects of him.

While dealing with the plumbing problem Curt discovers a gruesome surprise and jumps to conclusions.  A bit of detective work supports his rash theory and he sees dollar signs. He schemes to blackmail his landlady and employer. Soon he finds his paltry salary increased to a cool $1000/week.

And if you haven’t already figured out that the tables will be turned then you don’t know your crime fiction.

Reading The Glass Heart is like travelling back in time to a 1950s movie palace watching a B movie programmer. It’s crammed full of action, double dealing, manipulation, greed, lust and crime. Everyone is out for himself or herself. James M Cain, who penned multiple densely packed novels about two timing lovers and how greed controls their lives admired the book so much he 1. wrote a praiseworthy blurb for the Julian Messner first edition dust cover and 2. wrote a screenplay adaptation that unfortunately was never produced.  Even he recognized the cinematic potential of this hard to resist story.

While it’s not hard to predict that Curt and lovely Lynn will hook up within hours of meeting I doubt many readers will be able to predict the unusual plot twists. Soon a handful of supporting characters descend upon Mrs. Block looking for handouts including Elise, Lynn's future roommate and a member of an evangelical church devoted to enlisting new members and coaxing money out of them to help build their new church.

The story is overloaded with plot and incident. It’s almost like reading two books in one at the same time. There’s almost no time in the action-filled pages to question the often outlandish turn of events. But I did! And frequently. Some of my nagging questions included: Why on earth is Mrs. B such a pushover? Why didn’t she just throw Curt out of her house rather than be bled dry? And why is Lynn so simple minded and easily manipulated? I guess there is no room for common sense in potboiler fiction. The book exists solely to explore crime and base motives (mostly dealing with lust and avarice) but offers no insight into any of the reasons the characters need so desperately what they long for. I wasn’t asking for heightened literary reasons just a few mundane ones.

Late in the book it all turns a bit ridiculous. Elise receives a telegram that her husband was killed in action overseas. She refuses to accept this and in her religious mania keeps praying that hubbie be returned to her. Like a true believers she’s asking for a miracle. One guess as to how that turns out. Because of course every absurd coincidence one can possibly imagine will be crammed into these 192 pages.

Why have one kook when you can have two? Mrs. B is later revealed to be a bit of a loon herself. Lynn spends much of her time eavesdropping throughout the book and hears her landlady talking to herself and singing in a little girl’s high pitched voice. She has conversations with her dead husband, very intimate and revealing conversations. It all leads to a confrontation between the two woman involving a revolver and a golf club that doesn’t end well at all.

Do you think anything will end well in a book of this sort? Think again!

It starts off as noir but some odd detours and intrusive subplots among the minor characters transform the book to a quasi romance. This schizoid state results in a near parody of noir by the time you get to the two climactic moments. Remarkably – almost unbelievably – for something so laden with doom, insanity and murder, both intentional and accidental, it all ends with a cop out finale that includes a wedding and happily ever after honeymoon in New Mexico! I gather that Holland opted for a hearts and flowers finale because she wants the real villain of the piece to be revealed as a vile monster who “deserved” to die. And she seemed to want to make her leads into decent people who were victims themselves. Really strange considering they were crooked and corrupt from the get-go. When the penultimate chapter exposes the villain’s wide ranging schemes of cheating, thievery and mean-spiritedness one wonders if Holland knew a similarly horrible person and this was a revenge piece.

Marty Holland (1919 - 1971)

And yet though I sound like I’m disparaging this book I found it all utterly addictive. The Glass Heart is, I confess, a guilty pleasure. I couldn’t stop reading and had to know where each ludicrous scene would lead and of course how it all would end. It truly is one of the best examples of a genuine B movie on paper. And no wonder – the author Marty Holland was a secretary at Republic Pictures, one of the leading producers of B movie programmers, for many years. She was writing pulp fiction in her spare time, wrote the book that became the classic noir thriller Fallen Angel, and a story treatment for another crime movie classic The File on Thelma Jordan. Typing all those scripts at Republic Pictures taught her well, I guess.

Stark House has reprinted all of Marty Holland’s crime novels over the past year and a half. The Glass Heart is the newest reprint added to that small pile of books. For decades this novel was unavailable to mere mortals like you and me because the few copies for sale were listed by booksellers at unaffordable collector’s prices. It’s wonderful to have Marty Holland’s books all available to the general public in Stark House’s usual handsomely produced editions. For lovers of noir, kooky melodrama and twisty plotting these books are a must have. Highly recommended – even with all the caveats listed above. The Glass Heart is genuine thrill ride that will leave you both gasping in awe and laughing in shock.

COOL FLICKS: The Two Faces of January (2014)

I'll never pass on a Patricia Highsmith movie. This is one that I was completely unfamiliar with. I have read quite a few of her books, and reviewed one on this blog, but not only have I not read The Two Faces of January I hadn't any idea of the basic plot. Nor did I want to know before I saw the movie. From the opening scenes in which Viggo Mortenson and Kirsten Dunst are touring Greek ruins in their elegant attire to the final violent moments I was riveted. It may be one of the few sun-drenched noir movies in existence. Sun and heat and Greek ruins have never been more sinister on film.

I'm not sure I want to discuss the story at all but I urge any Highsmith fan, whether familiar with the novel or not, to see this movie. Viggo Mortenson and Oscar Isaac are fascinating to watch. Kirsten Dunst also does some interesting work in shading her character but the screen is dominated by the presence of the two men as one might expect in a Highsmith story. All of them are crooks of one sort or another. Each of the three leads is corrupt and a master manipulator. Isaac is Rydal a con man of a tour guide exploiting tourists' ignorance of the Greek language and the Greek drachma to his own ends; Mortenson plays Chester the shifty investment banker indulging himself in a life of excess; and Dunst is his wife Colette who hides her fear and hidden desires beneath a veneer of American charm and plastic smiles.

Highsmith's fascination with male bonding, friendship and fraternity is augmented in this story by a very strange surrogate father fixation in the attraction Rydal has for Chester. The catch is Rydal hated his real father who we learn has recently died at the opening of the movie. Yet he cannot help being drawn to Chester who uncannily resembles his dead father. Their initial meeting is all about stares and penetrating gazes and the father/son motif inexorably plays out in a dangerous and ultimately heartbreaking manner.

To me the most intriguing aspect of the film are the looks exchanged between characters and their silences. Often what isn't said is more important than what is and carries more weight. So much is conveyed only through glances or stares. It's an interesting choice not often used these days in movies that seem to be talkative monologue marathons. Not to disparage the intelligent dialogue devised by director/screenwriter Amini who also wrote the excellent screen adaptation of James Sallis' novel Drive. He uses dialogue with economy but is more interested in visuals to tell his story. This is a smart movie about smart and wily characters.

By the time the movie was about halfway done I suddenly had to know if it was being faithful to Highsmith's novel. So I went searching online for a book review or a plot summary and found that it was very much true to her novel with only a few minor tweaks. Having watched this cat and mouse game played out in the blazing Greek sun with more than a few references to it rich mythological heritage not the least of which is the eerie reverse Oedipal psyche I am now eager to read the book. I'm curious if Highsmith focusses more on young Rydal and his twisted family life and also if she delved into mythology as much as Amini did.

VIDEO: Water's Edge - Robert Bloch

One of the few examples of true noir that show up on The Alfred Hitchcock Hour "Water's Edge" (season 3, episode 3 - 1964) is adapted from the short story by Robert Bloch. The story originally appeared in Mike Shayne's Mystery Magazine in 1956. Interestingly, the story was rejected by Alfred Hitchcock's Mystery Magazine and ironically appeared in an anthology of short stories called Alfred Hitchcock Presents: Stories They Wouldn't Let Me Do on TV published in 1957.  Apparently several of those prohibited stories did eventually make their way to the anthology series.

Rusty Connors (John Cassavetes) is about to be released from prison. For months he has listened to the stories of his cellmate Mike Krause, bank robber and killer, who has been obsessed with his bombshell of a wife Helen. Now as Mike is dying of pneumonia he makes a deathbed confession. The money he stole years ago is still with his partner Pete. As soon as Rusty is out he plans to find the sexy Helen who he hopes to charm and seduce and that she will lead him to Pete and the money. When Helen turns out to be played by Ann Sothern Rusty immediately sees she has not kept her ravishing figure over time. He nearly scraps his plan. After an exchange of less than flattering remarks she agrees to meet Rusty.  Later, the two team up to locate Pete and the stolen money. You can be sure things do not work out as planned.

The script almost exclusively is a two character piece with a fascinating reversal on the noir trope of the sexy femme fatale and her gullible mark. This time we get an overweight frump and a slick and greedy Romeo. Cassavetes does a fine job, but it is Ann Sothern's interpretation of a character so completely against her usual type that makes this episode one of the highlights of the series. When Rusty first meets Helen in the diner she eats scraps off a customer's plate and licks her fingers; a perfect touch. Rusty is disgusted that he may have to seduce this slobby, porcine ex-sexpot. As the story progresses Sothern's subtle facial expressions hinting at her hidden motives are a nice contrast to Cassavetes' more overt emotional displays. You just know that this Mutt and Jeff team are out for themselves and not each other. The violent finale set in a rat infested, waterfront shack is one of the most gruesome and brilliantly filmed among the Hitchcock TV shows.

Albert Hayes wrote the teleplay adaptation that sizzles with sarcasm and irony. Bernard Girard, who began his career as a screenwriter back in 1948 and later became a prolific director for TV, brings top notch cinematic techniques to this above average entry in the series.

Highly recommended. The entire episode can be watched below.

COOL FLICKS: A Life at Stake (1954)

Crime and noir film devotees know the insurance policy plot is as old as Double Indemnity. Probably even older. A Life at Stake is yet another spin on the hapless mark duped into taking out a life insurance policy and realizing almost too late he's put a bullseye on his back. Just who is being duped in this story is something that is not all that clear at first. Screenwriter Russ Bender provides more than an ample amount of twists to what could have been a tired story.

Angela Lansbury turns in a neat performance as an unlikely temptress. She shows a glimmer of her monstrously manipulative mother soon to be unleashed in The Manchurian Candidate, a performance that earned her a third Academy Award nomination. As Doris Hillman she can flip the switch from sexy dame with dulcet voice and shapely gams to terrible termagant ready to slap a man's face and scream a torrent of abuse.

He-man hunk Keith Andes is Edward, the mark with a love of money and booze. In a gratuitous shirtless scene the viewer knows our hero is a manly man from the get-go. As the movie unfolds we may be watching him slowly wrapped around Doris' fingers but the director wants us to know that though he's weak of mind he's no Casper Milquetoast in the physique department. We also get to watch him fall in love with his framed $1000 bill, a chunk of cash that will come back to haunt him repeatedly.

As Doris' kid sister Madge, Claudia Barrett proves to be the biggest surprise of the movie. At first we think she's just hanging on to the muscular, lantern-jawed hero for a little thrill, stir up some sisterly jealousy. By the midpoint, however, she'll prove to be every bit as wily as Doris and her scheming husband. She adds a double dose of the twists to the plot with schemes of her own. The $1000 is released from its prison of a picture frame transforming itself from prop to a sort of a supporting character.

I liked this movie a lot. The plot seems heavily borrowed from Cain's novel but there's a delicious quirkiness to this movie's self-conscious low budget attitude. Offsetting Andes' mostly wooden monotone acting is the polished and sparkling performance from Lansbury and occasional inspired bits from Barrett combined with several expertly shot noirish scenes that lift A Life at Stake out of the realm of forgettable B flicks to make it something of a cult classic.

Jane Darwell: "He's a weird one. Him and his thousand dollar bill.

Framed like a picture and a-settin' on the table."

Douglass Dumbrille as Gus reminds his wife who's in charge

Other highlights include Jane Darwell in a cameo as a suspicious landlady and Douglass Dumbrille as Doris' urbanely menacing husband Gus. The melodramatic score is by Les Baxter and the clever script by B movie actor turned screenwriter Russ Bender. Another B movie stalwart, Paul Guilfoyle (dozens of character parts in films like The Grapes of Wrath, Mighty Joe Young, The Mark of the Whistler, Mad Miss Manton and White Heat) does a fine job in his directing debut. Guilfoyle teams up with neophyte cameraman Ted Allen (also his debut as Cinematographer) in creating some moody shots heavily influenced by classic noir movies of the 1940s and getting the most out of his capable cast. Maybe Guilfoyle could have cracked the whip a bit more on Andes. His strongman body deserved and could've taken the blows.

There are a couple of absurdities in the story (like a cabin in the woods with French windows that open onto a cliff side deck that was never finished) and the acting sometimes slips over into grandiose scenery chewing and posing for the camera, but it's such an odd film I was willing to overlook the few faults. In fact, by the midpoint when I realized the plot was headed straight into the land of weirdness I almost wanted more of the absurd and surreal. This is a little known movie that deserves full fledged cult status.  It can be seen in its entirety on several streaming websites for free. As it's one of several movies that has slipped into the public domain you should feel no guilt about watching it on YouTube or downloading it as I did. I've watched it about four times in the past few months and as derivative and hokey as it may be I still find things to enjoy about A Life at Stake.

"I feel just luscious. Uh...how much insurance do you have?"

Gus Hillman's coffee will send you to sleep rather than keep you awake.

Madge (Claudia Barrett) and Edward discuss putting to good use his treasured $1000.

Doris asks Edward to admire the view from the porch-less French windows.

That's quite a drop. Hmm...

The battle for Edward between two scheming sisters.

Animation Noir - "The Mystery of You" by Spencer Day

Spencer Day, an original young jazz vocalist, released a new album back in March. Here's the animated video that accompanies the title track "The Mystery of You." It's a film noir in miniature with a jazz vocal soundtrack.

I thought it was very appropriate for this blog. Check it out.

The video was created and directed by veteran animator Eric Deuel who is best known for his work on the two Kung Fu Panda movies. More about Deuel at his website here.

COOL FLICKS: Sleep, My Love (1948)

From the opening sequence with Claudette Colbert waking in horror to discover she is on a speeding train headed to who knows where Sleep, My Love immediately catches the viewer's attention and never lets go. The blend of familiar crime film gimmicks (amnesia, hypnosis, Cainesque scheming lovers) are never boring due to the grand slam combination of a witty and suspenseful script by St. Clair McKelway and Leo Rosten (from his novel), top notch performances by an extremely well cast group of actors and frequent artistic touches from director Douglas Sirk.

Anyone familiar with the classic Gaslight will catch on fairly quickly to the basic plot.  Alison Courtland (Colbert) is being victimized by her philandering husband (low key and monotoned Don Ameche) who wants her locked up in the loony bin so he can live happily ever after with his lover Daphne, (sultry Hazel Brooks in a text book femme fatale role) a wicked city woman who works in a photo studio and likes to parade around in flimsy negligees.  Joining in this conspiracy to drive poor Alison out of her mind are Daphne's sinister photographer boss (menacing George Coulouris) and his mousy ill-informed wife (ubiquitous character actress Queenie Smith turning in another sharp portrait). Raymond Burr also makes a brief appearance in two scenes as a police detective.

Grace Vernay (Smith) finds a gun in Alison's purse

Charles Vernay (Coulouris) insulted once again by his negligee clad employee Daphne (Brooks)

Alison wonders what happened to the butler in her shadow filled home

Dick and Daphne drink, dance and deceive (Daphne wears her only dress in this scene)

Alison compares her husband to Bruce (Cummings) in a moment of drunken candidness

Colbert makes a fine victim here appropriately terrified and confused throughout most of the film. Unlike similar roles of the plotted against wife Colbert never comes across as cloyingly self-pitying. Nor is the noir plot as amoral and claustrophobic as something like The Postman Always Rings Twice.  Ameche and Coulouris do great work as conspiring villains but the very nature of the scheme involving drugs and hypnosis teeters on the brink of absurdity. Sirk counters this with nighttime interiors drenched in shadows and directs Ameche, an actor better known for light-hearted and comic roles, to deliver his lines in a menacing monotone and keeps his performance restrained and low key.  It's a subtle touch and it allows Ameche to carry off his villainous part with panache even as we watch him daintily stirring a cup of doctored cocoa.

The addition of two comic characters - Barby and Bruce - provide the story with a welcome breezy humor. Barby (Rita Johnson) is a mile-a-minute talker typical of the screwball comedies of the 1940s. She is the daffy urbane socialite so often found on screen but never in real life. Her part exists purely for laughs and Johnson does it extremely well - much better than Billie Burke might have done. Robert Cummings as Bruce is the playboy we know will be Colbert's savior. He has an easy suave nature, a charming city wit, and the brains to see through the scheming husband's plot at the very last minute.

The strangest sequence in the film seems like it belongs in another movie. While Dick and Daphne are slumming and scheming in a local dive Alison and Bruce go on an adventure.  Bruce has come to New York to be best man in his business partner's wedding and asks Alison as his date. Turns out the wedding is in Chinatown and his business partner is played by Keye Luke (Number One Son in the Charlie Chan flicks). With music provided by a Chinese string ensemble squeaking and whining in the background Alison proceeds to get delightfully drunk on Asian wine. The wedding reception turns into a series of bits lifted from a romantic comedy with Colbert showing off her exceptional comic acting skills then slowly confessing her dissatisfaction in her troubled marriage. Later Bruce tries to chauffeur the new bride and groom to their hotel in a well known resort, but Alison's misadventures at the hands of her murderous husband interfere.  It's an odd sequence played for laughs that seems very out of place in a film that spends much of its time building up a brooding and menacing atmosphere.

The framing and composition throughout the movie is hypnotic. You can't turn away for a minute lest you miss some artistic choices like those shown above. The way the teacup with the drugged hot chocolate can be seen so ominously in the foreground while Dick's soothing voice puts Alison's fears at ease.  Or how Daphne holds court (once again in a sexy nightie) in the photo studio while Dick in a passive position looks up at her completely under her seductive power.  The use of light and shadow in the nightmarish murder attempt scenes, the perfectly rendered sound effects like Coulouris running his fingernails creepily along the fabric of an upholstered chair, the brilliant use of the Queensboro Bridge as a backdrop for the nocturnal bedroom scenes, and the rousing finale complete with a shootout and pursuit up a staircase to the rooftop - they're all wonderful touches that show Douglas Sirk to be a true cinema artist.

Sleep, My Love is available via the Netflix streaming option or the entire film in a restored print (and not fragmented into parts) can be viewed for free at YouTube here.

Be sure to visit Todd Mason's Sweet Freedom and check out the rest of the insightful comments on unusual films, TV shows, video & audio creations for "Tuesday's Overlooked Films (and/or Other A/V)."

FIRST BOOKS: In Search of Mercy - Michael Ayoob

When I learned that the winner of "Best First Novel" at this year's Shamus Awards was very much an atypical private eye novel I was a little more than intrigued. Although the dust jacket for the first edition is emblazoned with a badge that signifies In Search of Mercy as also winning the Best First Private Eye Novel in a competition sponsored by St. Martin's Press/Minotaur books, the book is not truly a private eye novel. It is more accurately labeled in its subtitle as "a mystery." And that subtitle has multiple meanings to be addressed later. True, the protagonist is offered money to do some investigative work (qualifying for the private eye genre as outlined by the Shamus Awards), but he's a former high school hockey star now working in a produce distributor's warehouse in Pittsburgh. A far cry from that cramped office on Sutter Street with dingy venetian blinds and Spade & Archer on the front door. There's a missing person, too, like three quarters of the Golden Age books of its type, but there's no murder. What? No murder? Is it possible to have a private eye novel without a real private eye and no murder? I was pleasantly surprised to discover that it is indeed possible. And the book works.

Dexter Bolzjak may be young (some simple math tells me he's about 24 though it's not actually stated) but he's had more than his fair share of troubles and he's saddled with a horrid traumatic incident that continues to haunt him eight years after it happened. Where most private eyes are former alcoholics, divorced, war vets, or burned out cops, Dexter has an abusive abduction that fairly ruined him. He continues to have flashbacks and dizzy spells throughout the story. Only bits and pieces are related to us, but rest assured the nightmare he endured will be described in full detail in a harrowing scene late in the book. He refuses professional therapy. He says it's for pussies and -- my one real issue with the book -- faggots.

Faggot is the favorite slur among the characters in this book. Both men and women use it with with relish to emasculate and insult Dexter. Dexter himself uses it to beat himself up and insult his best friend. Ayoob's book is set in 2001 yet I felt like I was back in the locker room in my high school in the 1970s. Is that word really thrown around so much these days? Emasculation, oppression and abuse, what it means to be a real man are all at the heart of the story. I tried to be forgiving and to see the use of that word in the context of this dark and dirty story, but each time someone used that insult I couldn't help but wince.  I think I have my own traumas I'm still dealing with as Dexter does throughout this engrossing story.

To overcome his status as a "pussy" and finally shed his tarnished reputation as the failed hockey star who let everyone down eight years ago Dexter is given an unusual chance to prove himself worthy. Lou Kashon, the local crazy coot, hires Dexter to find his lost love. She happens to be the former movie star and film noir goddess Mercy Carnahan and no one knows if she is still alive. After becoming a sensation in the late 1940s and early 1950s she abandoned film, attempted a stage career and then suddenly and mysteriously on the opening night of her stage debut, The Crimson Kiss, renounced her life as an entertainer and disappeared. She has never been seen since. Lou wants Dexter to find her and offers him a drawer full of cash in excess of $100,000 as his reward. Dexter takes up the double duty of both discovering Lou's secret reason for needing to find Mercy and the mystery of her disappearance.

There is a lot going on in this book. It's a coming of age story and a thriller, a detective novel and a movie lover's trivia book. Ayoob uses the tropes of the traditional private eye novel to explore the idea of masculinity, failure and success, family secrets and family bonds.  It's awfully ambitious and downright impressive.

One of the most surprising scenes comes when Dexter tracks down the owner of a website devoted to the memory of Mercy Carnahan.  Prior to this scene the book is a dark noir style paying homage to the Gold Medal and Lion Library paperbacks writers of the 1950s. Dexter enters the house and suddenly he and the reader are transported into a bizarre world that echoes the weird menace stories that filled the pages of pulps magazines like Dime Detective. Deviant sex, plastic surgery experiments, and a jaw dropping shocker right off the stage of the old Grand Guignol. This portion of the book shows Ayoob's skill in creating horror but it was just too strange and very jarring in a book that seems to be more gritty realism than sensationalistic dark fantasy.

Elsewhere on the internet there are some interesting interviews from local Pittsburgh TV and radio stations in which Ayoob talks freely about his book.  I learned from one of those interviews that after reading a draft of In Search of Mercy a friend suggested that Jim Thompson must be Ayoob's favorite writer. Ayoob had never heard of him, but he admits that he tracked down a book called The Killer Inside Me and was completely entranced.  Anyone who is familiar with that book will know that Ayoob certainly picked the most chilling of all of Thompson's dark crime novels. He then dove right into the rest of Thompson's work and says that it must've influenced him a bit when rewriting his own book.

Ayoob sadly has no literary representation and his winning the contest landed him only a one book contract.  Let us hope some wise and prescient agent sees the promise of a new writer in this startlingly original and fascinating novel.  I'd read a second book, a third, and more from this fresh new voice.  The future of the private eye novel depends on young writers like Michael Ayoob.  I eagerly look forward to more from him.

Bouchercon Day 2: Eye-Opening

More signings, more lugging around heavy books, more shoulder injuries. Idea for next Bouchercon - for all of us middle-aged folk who get shoulder and neck pain from schlepping heavy tote bags install a massage chair with a skilled massage therapist. It would be a big hit, I think. Of course next time I will register in time to get into the hotel where the darn convention is being held instead of having to do the ten minute walk every morning carrying all these books.

Megan Abbott (photo by Drew Reilly)

The panels on Friday, September 16 I attended were:

1. Lost in the Amazon: Authors discuss their bad reviews specifically the hysterically funny, sometimes illiterate, often just plain perplexing bad reviews that plague amazon.com.

2. Hot Ice: Thriller and crime writers talk about the subgenre of the caper and heist novel.

3. Shadows Rising: Movies for the crime fiction fan. Megan Abbott was on this panel. I've always wanted to hear her talk about movies. Prior to becoming a novelist she studied and wrote about crime in the movies - specifically the film noir genre. Plus I hoped to get some titles of movies I hadn't yet seen. I'm even more addicted to mystery movies, crime thrillers and heist movies than I am to the vintage crime and adventure fiction I normally write about on this blog.

Panel #1: Linwood Barclay, Bill Crider, Lisa Lutz, Elaine Viets. Alafair Burke was also scheduled but had to cancel her visit.

Colin Cotterill as the moderator had done his research and looked up as many bad Amazon reviews (especially the one star reviews) for each of the writers on the panel. As the discussion of bad reviews continued he would ask questions, wait for a reply, then produce evidence from his pile of Amazon.com print outs. Linwood Barkley commented: "Aren't you forgetting to say 'Perhaps this will refresh you memory!' " The classic Thurber cartoon uses that line for its caption. Colin might as well have been producing kangaroos as evidence for the hour.

Lisa Lutz and Elaine Viets also brought along email that were mixtures of praise, encouragement and slams. These included a letter from a Japanese linguistics professor who teaches Elaine Viets' books in a class on American culture that outlined his misunderstanding of some slang terms including a word I think Elaine made up. The sentence in question? "She felt a kazoing south of her belt." The professor wanted to know if "south of the belt" is related to the American slang phrase "South of the Border." Cue the uproarious laughter. But I joined Lisa Lutz' mystification of the word "kazoing." I can imagine what it might mean, but it's brand new to me.

It was all in good fun but we must all know that the internet allows for so much anonymous venting and name calling. No one really ever brought up the rather obvious point that a large number of these bad "reviews" are done by people with too much time on their hands who are simply entertaining themselves by manipulating and creating artificial controversy for the hell of it. The anonymity and hiding behind a user name in the world of digital communication has created a widespread outlet for antisocial havoc. I often wonder how many of these reviews are real or just forms of mean spirited creative writing intended only to fuck with people.

Panel #2: Keith Thomson, Eoin Colfer, Peter Spiegelman, Sean Doolittle, Chris Ewan. Moderator: Benjamin Whitmer.

I really didn't learn much about caper novels here that I didn't already know or gain any real insight into the skill needed in creating the intricate plots in these stories about elaborate crimes that often go wrong. There was a lot of comparing books to movies, but very little talk of writers who might have influenced the members of the panel. No one mentioned Donald E. Westlake (and not even his alter ego of Richard Stark or the Parker books) until the very end. It was Chris Ewan, by the way, who finally brought up The Hot Rock. Ewan writes a series of books about a mediocre mystery writer who becomes a thief with each book being set in a different city that gives the book it's title (The Good Thief's Guide to Amsterdam, The Good Thief's Guide to Paris, etc.). I was glad someone mentioned Westlake because I nearly raised my hand and did so myself. Donald E. Westlake practically invented the caper novel. Certainly he needed to be given credit on this panel. But there was some dumb running joke about The Italian Job that I didn't fully understand since I arrived 15 minutes late having been detained with the usual long lines at the book signings.

What I did learn was that there were some interesting books out there by these guys. I knew of Eoin Colfer's juvenile series about Artemis Fowl which are genre blending fantasy/crime capers. His new adult novel Plugged is about a casino bouncer and is set in New Jersey. He sold himself several copies of the book. I bought one and so did about fifty other people right after the talk. Mostly I imagine because Colfer is the damn funniest Irish writer I've heard speak in a long time. He had the audience in stitches and probably in his pocket as well. Keith Thomson admitted his books were less caper novels than straight espionage thrillers. He explained the origins of the Alzheimer's plagued spy in the book who was based on the father of his girlfriend's former boyfriend. That story was so fascinating I'll probably seek out his book someday. I had a Chris Ewan book in my TBR pile at home (planned for the EuroPass series I'm contributing to), but his mention of his respect for Westlake and The Hot Rock from which he borrowed a few ideas got me to buy two of his books.

Panel #3: Todd Ritter, David Corbett, Megan Abbott, Wallace Stroby, Russell McLean. Moderator: Jeremy Lynch.

This discussion of crime films was a daunting task.  How to cram such a huge wealth of movies into a mere hour? Jeremy Lynch, entertainment editor for Crimespree,  confessed it took considerable collaboration through many email exchanges to come up with the final format.  The discussion was divided into three rounds. Each member of the panel would pick one film to represent the category of each round. After hearing all five films discussed in each round the audience would vote on the most persuasive argument for the most noteworthy of the five films. The rounds were "Pre World War 2 Movies," "The Cold War Years," and "The Sacred Cow You Would Most Like to Gore."

Ralph Meeker & Leigh Snowden in Kiss Me Deadly

I mostly chose this panel because I have always wanted to hear Megan Abbott talk about movies.  Her picks were Double Indemnity, In a Lonely Place and the sacred cow she got to gore (translation: an overrated film that didn't deserve all the attention it garnered) was Silence of the Lambs.  The surprise came from two other members.  I was very impressed with David Corbett's impassioned descriptions of some very obscure movies including Il Bidone written and directed by Federico Fellini and Bellman & True directed by Richard Loncrane.  Wallace Stroby also had some exceedingly interesting insights for the films he talked about: Public Enemy and Kiss Me Deadly.  I got more than I expected, a veritable wealth of movie lore and movie trivia from those three participants alone.  And Russell McLean's final pitch for an oddball movie written and directed by Larry Bishop and starring Richard Dreyfuss, Jeff Goldblum, Gabriel Byrne and Ellen Barkin called Mad Dog Time really made the hour well worth my time.

When questions came from the audience someone asked for the best example of the traditional private eye movie, one that incorporated the Chandler type characters and overall tone of what we know as the private eye genre.  Astonishingly, after all the dissent and reviling and dumping on each other's favorites (especially between Todd Ritter, an avowed Hitchcock fan, and David Corbett who admitted to hating all but one of Hitchcock's films)  it was an almost instantaneous and unanimous call.  Chinatown.  Each member of the panel brought up things I had never thought of and I've seen that movie a couple of times.  I also learned that there was a different ending in the original screenplay and Roman Polanski, after heated arguments with screenwriter Robert Towne,  changed it without Towne's consent. To this day it remains an iconic film in the private eye genre almost supplanting all those private eye flicks that came before it as the epitome of the genre. I think more people know of and have seen Chinatown than the earliest original private eye films like Murder, My Sweet or The Big Sleep.

COOL FLICKS: On Dangerous Ground (1952)

Here's my contribution to the Nicholas Ray Blogathon hosted by Tony at Cinema Viewfinder. It began on September 5 and typically I got my post up on the last day - today, September 8. For other posts on Nicholas Ray's movies go here. When at Tony's blog you can also check out numerous reviews of his own on Ray's work and reviews by guest writerss that have received a spotlight page.

On Dangerous Ground takes a modern look at the lonely life of a cop who has been so disgusted and deadened by dealing with the seedy underworld of criminals that he nearly destroys himself and his career. It's based on a British novel Mad with Much Heart by Gerald Butler. While the movie retains the name of the lead character and his relationship with a blind woman who is the sister of a murder suspect he is pursuing that is about all that the book has in common with the movie. The setting is changed to the US and the entire first half of the move set in a noir world of petty criminals, prostitutes, con men and oversexed and drugged out molls is entirely the creation of Ray and screenwriter A. I. Bezzerides who makes a cameo as a corrupt bar owner.

For a second viewing of this excellent movie I have to say I didn't recall much. It was like watching it for the first time. After the second viewing, I watched a third time and - yes - a fourth time. Each viewing revealed a new layer to me, something new and exciting, something touchingly poignant, something subtly devious, something subversive that slipped by the censors. Each time I marveled at how this movie made over fifty years ago still has power and resonance today.

The opening credits are accompanied by one of Bernard Herrmann's magnificent scores. Blaring french horns and clanging bells dominate the music that suggests the call of hunters of horseback as we watch a car - presumably a police car - patrolling the city streets lit only by streetlights and the occasional neon sign. Then, the first image: a gun in a holster. In quick succession we meet three policemen all on their way to their night shift jobs. Two men are married - one with a wife who hates to be alone and quite obviously a sensual loving wife, the second married with a silent wife and a brood of seven kids with whom he watches western shows on TV. Last is Robert Ryan, playing Jim Wilson, who lives alone in a cramped studio apartment. No one helps him into his coat or shoulder holster, no one hugs him tightly as he tries to make his way out the door. He looks over his shoulder to an empty table before he leaves his home.

The we see what kind of people Wilson has to deal with every night. He's hit on by a bar girl clearly underage ("How old are you?" he asks her. "Old enough," she kittenishly replies.) He has to shirk off the whining addictions of an alcoholic informer named Lucky. Later from another informer he receives a tip that might be able to help his team locate a gangster on the run. It's the gangster's girlfriend Myrna (played with sleazy relish by Cleo Moore) and she's quite a number. She comes to the door, bleary eyed, slurring speech and immediately tries to come on to Wilson. She teases him and invites his advances. In the presence of his partner he refuses, then notices some battle scars from being tossed around by someone. He asks the partner to go outside. Myrna tries another ploy with Wilson. She suggests he give her similar attention and he leers at her. The scene fades out and we're unsure what kind of attention Wilson will give the girl, but we know it's probably not going to be sex.

Wilson succeeds in getting one more name from the woman and the cops make their way to a second flophouse where Wilson is in rare form. He beats another suspect but his partner interrupts him and the entire floor of residents rushes to the still open doorway of the apartment. The gangster jeers at Wilson, "Go ahead and hit me" hoping he will in the presence of witnesses, but Wilson knows better. He once again sends his partner outside to get the residents back in their rooms and asks him to close the door. And then we see Wilson completely fly off the handle. Screaming and raging at the poor sap: "I'll give you something. I always get what I want. Why do you make me do this to you? Why? Why?" The scene fades out but even in the squad car on the way to the much needed hospital Wilson cannot restrain himself. His partner has to prevent a second beating as the gangster is escorted in the hospital where it is later discovered he has a ruptured bladder among other serious injuries.

Wilson is one sorry soul. A solitary existence with no friends ("A cop has no friends," he tells his commanding officer), no wife, no one in whom he can confide and his hatred for the degradation he must face everyday has eaten away at his psyche. His verbal lashing out and his uncontrolled violence are signs of a man in serious trouble. He hates himself but he can't stop himself. The numerous lectures he receives from his cop partners and the captain never seem to sink in.

"You sure don't care about people do you?" says one cop after he gets the dope from Myrna, the floozy. Wilson must know, his partner reminds him, when her gangster boyfriend finds out she ratted on him she'll most likely be killed. Wilson has no response, only a slight sneer.

"Why do you make me do it? Why? WHY!"

Another of his fellow cops tells him, "To get something out this life you have to put something into it. From the heart." This is the most telling piece of advice Wilson will receive and it will come back to him later in the movie.

Out of control and fearing he will not only hurt more people but hurt the entire force and ruin their good standing the captain takes Wilson off duty in the city. He's sent to Siberia - upstate New York, that is - to help in the capture of a child killer. When he arrives he meets Walter Brent, the father of the murdered girl and Wilson might as well be looking in a mirror. Brent (Ward Bond) who, by the way, is never seen without a rifle in his hand, is bent on revenge. He wants only one thing - the blood of the man who killed his daughter. Just as Wilson has his fists, Brent has his rifle. "None of your city stuff -- no fancy trials, no sob sisters. I'm just gonna empty this shotgun in his belly. Anyone who tries to stop will get the same thing." One of many chases ensues. They set off on foot and follow footprints in the snow, then have to pursue him by car when the suspect knocks down a man and steals a car. Brent and Wilson commandeer a car from a woman gathering wood.

Wilson, in the face of the brutish and brash Brent, immediately takes the opposite tack. He adopts a more sensible and quiet persona. At the home of the blind sister Mary (Ida Lupino) loneliness is talked about repeatedly. Mary says "A city can be lonely, too. Sometimes I think people who are never alone are the loneliest. Most lonely people try to figure it out -- about loneliness." She senses almost supernaturally, as only blind people in the movies can do, that Wilson is a good man with a good soul. She tries to link the two of them together in their solitary lives. But she's picking up cues that we know mean something completely different. She says, "There's no pity in your voice. You didn't take the tray from my hands like most people." She thinks he's been around a blind person before, but he really doesn't care what she does. He watches her. He's sort of fascinated by her. Perhaps in this woman he has a chance to change his ways.


Robert Ryan as Jim Wilson & Ida Lupino as Mary Malden

The first scene between Mary and Wilson is really something to marvel. Mary tries all sorts of persuasion methods in trying to win Wilson to her side. Wilson is amazed that anyone can think of him as a savior, as a person to whom she can entrust her misunderstood brother. We know that if Wilson had run into her brother in the city he'd beat him senselessly and see him as a freak. But to a man who has never been accountable to anyone other than himself he sees this as a chance to prove himself. Mary provides him with a chance to change. If he can find the boy and save him from the vengeful hands of Brent he might be redeemed form his hateful brutish self. he might be able to exorcise the demon inside him. He doesn't want to become Brent.

The movie then becomes a war between Brent and Wilson. Who will get to Mary's brother Danny first? Will he be killed vigilante stye or will he be resecued from execution? Wilson is determined to prove that he can settle a case without violence. The first thing he does is to disarm Brent while he's asleep. He never raises a fist while in the country. Outside of the city it seems he has a chance. Free from the sleaze and corruption, without a bar in sight and not one temptress trying put the make on him Wilson is sure he can escape the trapped world of cruelty and brutality he himself created.

The climax of the movie is heart racing. With Herrmann's music underscoring a chase to a rocky cliff it is hard not to draw comparisons with North by Northwest. Close-ups of feet slipping on the snowy rocks, Brent after Danny, Wilson after Brent and Danny so desperate to escape and not looking where he should be looking. It's the most thrilling set piece in the movie.

Some take exception to the almost too neat way in which Wilson is redeemed. I've read other reviews of this movie calling his transformation unbelievable. I couldn't disagree more. The story is perfectly structured. All the signs of his self-loathing are there. We know he wants to change and Mary is his last chance. Everything in the movie serves this ultimate goal. Not only the technical aspects of camera angles, editing and lighting, but every line of dialog, every prop, even the costuming choices and bit characters all have a genuine purpose to the overall story. On Dangerous Ground is truly a modern movie - a movie with a noir heart that is longing for desperate change.

COOL FLICKS: The Prowler (1951)

There's plenty to crow about for film noir fans with the release of the newly restored print of The Prowler now on DVD from VCI Entertainment. Directed by Joseph Losey, written by Dalton Trumbo already blacklisted by the HUAC and forced to borrow his pal Hugo Butler's name as his byline, and starring Van Heflin and Evelyn Keyes it is without a doubt a masterwork of the film noir genre. Forget many of those other well known and oft talked about crime thrillers of the 1940s and 1950s that are touted as the epitome of noir. This is hands down the movie to use as a template when discussing the essential ingredients of film noir.

Heflin is a cop who hates being a cop and wants Keyes the moment he lays eyes on her. Keyes is a wife trapped in a marriage to a man who manages to keep watch over her even as he broadcasts his radio show.  Every night he signs off his show, in a very creepy voice, with his signature catchphrase: "I'll be seeing you, Susan." In the main supporting role there is John Maxwell playing Heflin's cop partner -- an oddball who travels throughout the deserts of California collecting rocks with his wife. If you think that's thrown in just for laughs, think again. Every element of the story has its function and has a meaning beyond the obvious. The layers involved are fascinating. In fact, the original and far more evocative title that Trumbo wanted to use is The Cost of Living - one that has several meanings aptly spelled out in this movie about desiring and envying a materialistic lifestyle.

The plot is deceptively simple but becomes increasingly complex with its multiple layers and the ever changing emotional lives in the two leads. As Bertrand Tavernier says in an interview in the bonus section of the DVD the story almost defies summarizing. Like all good cinema it really needs to be seen rather than read about. It is in the composition, the lighting, the visuals that the story really comes alive.

Keyes calls the police after being spied on by a voyeur (us, the audience, as Losey films the scene). Heflin and Maxwell arrive in response to the call and she lets them into her home. Heflin shows too much interest in Keyes. She senses it and likes it although she's disturbed that she likes it. They are soon carrying on an affair that transforms from a casual friendship into obsessive love. And, of course, like all noir films the love leads both of them into a continuing downward spiral to the ruin of them both.

The settings play an important part and act as some of the best supporting characters in the movie outside of the numerous bit parts. The story begins in the opulent home of Keyes and her radio broadcasting husband and that set dominates the movie for the first third. The second third we see Heflin in his squalid one room apartment with the most prominent piece of decor being a target practice sheet with numerous bullet holes in the silhouettes chest and head. The final third of the movie takes place in a barren desolate desert scape – a ghost town, in fact – where the two of them live out their brief married life while awaiting Keyes' birth of their child. It has no happy ending, I can promise you. But you knew that already, didn't you?

Heflin is the creepiest of any of his roles in this film. Keyes, who had few leading roles and was pretty much a supporting player of lightweight roles, does a remarkable job as the woman at first obsessively in love and finally loathing the object of her desire.

I watched all the bonus sections on the DVD and heard a lot of analysis that usually goes over my head. I was surprised to hear the experts talking about much of what I picked up on in terms of the story itself as well as subtler cinematic points like art direction, lighting and framing of scenes. I was very proud of myself with this viewing. Probably I was luckier with this movie because structurally it is very similar to the dark crime stories that appeal to me in novel form.

The most interesting parts in these bonus interviews were hearing about the history of John Huston's involvement in the film and how Dalton Trumbo, a blacklisted screenwriter, got two jobs for this movie.  Huston was married to Evelyn Keyes at the time and was instrumental in getting her this part. Trumbo, it is mentioned in one interview, wrote some of his finest screenplays during his blacklisted period but had to resort to pseudonyms or "borrow" the names of his screenwriter friends to use in the credits. Trumbo also appears in the movie as the voice of Keyes' nearly invisible husband. We only the see the husband in a single sequence when he is played by an anonymous actor in the violent death scene. Prior to that and afterwards we only hear his voice from the radio and on recordings of those radio shows that he made.