Crime Films – Two You Might Not Want To See

I’m not recommending these movies to anyone.  One is so sleazy that a hot shower is in order after viewing.  The other is amateurish and pretentious.  Yet, there is something bold and original about both.  If you are an adventurer in your film going and want to witness how much risk some off-the wall creative minds will take for their vision, you may want to see The Paperboy and Arc.

The Paperboy has an all-star cast that includes Matthew McConaughey, Macy Gray, Nicole Kidman, Zac Efron, John Cusack and Scott Glenn.  They all sweat convincingly in the Florida humidity. Efron (clad only in his tighty whities for half the film) and McConaughey  (a noted shirtophobe) provide enough male pulchritude to suggest soft porn while Kidman, fully clothed, mimes a sex act so graphically that the scene could qualify for a triple x rating. Some call it “air sex.”

The story is about two ambitious reporters trying to keep a convicted murderer from execution. Kidman excels as the aging vamp drawn to the convict, though she’s never met him. As the reporters attempt to gather the facts about the trial and arrest, Kidman joins the team and inadvertently seduces Efron, the virgin younger brother of one of the reporters. Cusack provides a quiet, dumb menace that reflects, it seems, the character and atmosphere of the film. Lee Daniels (Precious) directed this 2012 film that accumulated awards and accolades as well as considerable criticism.

Arc (2006)cannot boast the cast or the production quality of The Paperboy. One wonders what rookie director Robert Ethan Gunnerson could have done with the resources available to Daniels.  Corrupt police, drugs, prostitution of all type and kidnapping form the backdrop for a heroin- addicted young man called “Paris,” played by Peter Facinelli (in his pre-Goth days) as he attempts redemption.  The film is an unconventional take on a conventional story.  A fundamentally decent guy, caught in a dangerous underworld, Paris wants to redeem himself with a noble deed.  He decides to find a kidnapped child.  With the help of a newly recruited prostitute, he begins his search for the boy. In an attempt to make the film seem higher-minded than it is, the dialogue is filled with out-of-character quotes from famous writers and philosophers.  Dialogue courtesy of Bartletts.

It’s impossible not to pay attention to the peculiar, seemingly random, cinematic style.   I’m guessing one hand-held camera, using available light, did the job.  From time to time we see the film in black and white, then for no apparent reason, in color. A spotlight (or flashlight) is used to follow the actors when natural light isn’t enough, achieving a strange, moody effect.

Both films use the hokey split-screen device. And both leave a lingering, though not necessarily pleasant aftertaste.  However, both are provocative. If that’s enough, perhaps they are worth a few hours of your time.

To accompany these hardcore movies, (if you are not driving anywhere) go for the straight stuff— whiskey, gin, etc. — keeping in mind that you’ll be spending some time in a sweaty swamp with mosquitoes, alligators, water snakes and worse, soulless humans.

Images From Modern Art Show At Fort Mason Center in San Francisco

On Writing — When Secondary Characters Want More

I don’t pay attention to trends in crime writing.  I figure that by the time I’d finish writing a book in concert with what was popular when I began, the hordes of readers who appreciated the trend will have moved on to the next one.  The truth is I’m still writing private eye novels, which proves how disconnected I am to pop culture.  But I’ve read recently that one current trend is to have mysteries with characters who may play a minor role in one book take the central role in the next.  This creates a blend of the series approach to writing with that of standalones, or one-offs as some call them.  The benefit for the reader and writer is continuing to visit old friends, while also infusing a large measure of freshness. Not a bad idea.  And while it is not a new approach, it is heartening that we’re looking at structure and technique rather than something more ephemeral, such as introducing angels or vampires.

Louise Penny. It takes a village.

I’ve not done that exactly.  But I’ve had secondary characters steal the limelight from the intended principals.  For example, I’ve had a number of readers suggest that if something should ever happen to aging private eye Deets Shanahan, protagonist of 10 of my novels, his girlfriend, Maureen, could take over all the private investigating and all novels after the old man’s demise.  In fact, some readers went further.  They suggested I take Shanahan out next time around, leaving Maureen to find out who did it.  I’m glad they like her, but her rapid ascension wasn’t anticipated. And I have a soft spot for the septuagenarian, especially as I approach the category.

This kind of pleasant surprise turned out to be true of the second series, too.  Two private investigators —highly professional Carly Paladino and street-wise Noah Lang —anchor the San Francisco mysteries. However it is clear to me that Thanh, a smart, unconventional gender-bending assistant to the firm and SFPD Homicide Inspector Vincente Gratelli, the veteran, world-weary widower are just as, if not more, popular with readers.  

Oddly enough, Thanh’s story was told in Mascara, Death in the Tenderloin.  That short novel not only preceded the Paladino and Lang books, it was the backstory for all the books in the series.  And Gratelli was a major player in my unrelated mystery Good To The Last Kiss before becoming a regular in each of the Paladino-Lang stories.   In all cases these “supporting” players made the books better. Their prior and independent appearances, I believe, provide additional depth not only to their character but to the subsequent books in which they appear. 

What am I trying to say?  That I understand the appeal of an interlocking cast. Those trend-setting or trend-following writers may be onto something when they revisit and expand the roles of minor characters, especially those who show promise.  It is a form of repertory, not of actors, in this case, but of characters. 

Secondary Character — William H. Macy is Lincoln Lawyer's P.I.

This isn’t new, of course. For example, Michael Connelly has cross-pollinated his protagonists.  Tormented cop Harry Bosch has worked cases with Lincoln Lawyer Mickey Haller and former FBI agent Terry McCaleb — all leading men.  However, in this case, a better example of tis particular trend might be Louise Penny who has focused on the potential contribution of a realistic, yet conveniently captive, supporting cast.  She has exploited the benefits of murder in a tiny village, where all the minor characters know each other — and there are plenty of them — and MUST reappear from book to book, climbing into or shrinking from the limelight, depending on the story. Though Penny appears to be more in tune with the current trend, Connelly has nothing to worry about.  Between the two of them, they are the bestseller list.  For good reason.  Even so I’m still pissed that Connelly whacked the Lincoln Lawyer’s P.I., a great secondary chararacter.

In the end, though, a trend is a trend.  I don’t believe one writes to a trend successfully, nor starts one intentionally.  It’s serendipity. And once established, good writers are trend resistant. For the new and struggling it’s not quite the same. One must deal with publishers and agents who are dazzled, if not outright hypnotized by the most recent fashion turn in mysteries.

In my case, would it help if I explained that I’m one-eighth Norwegian?

The Novella Makes Comeback, Plus A Not So Subtle Self Promotion

Novellas, even mystery novellas, are not new. Crime fiction critics make the case that Joseph Conrad’s Heart of Darkness  (1899) was not only a mystery novella but noir as well.  And there are many writers, many still doing this short crime fiction, though they weren’t often branded with the somewhat precious term, “novella.”  Too French, I suspect, for the tough guys.  Also, if you look at the length of much of the now revered pulp fiction, most were pretty short —novella length.

Somewhere along the continuum, the expectation for successful crime fiction went from a pocket book you could pluck from a swiveling metal rack to a doorstop.  So, while novellas have never died, there is a revival of interest in a book that won’t keep you up all night or one you could start during a flight from San Francisco and finish before your touchdown in Chicago.  I am convinced that the birth of the e-book is largely responsible for the renewed interest. The idea that a reader need not make a commitment to a 500-page novel and that one can buy a few hours of escape for less than $3.99 for the digital version rather than $16.95 for a slim trade paperback reinvigorates reading in a culture increasingly addicted to a hand-held world.

The publishing business, no doubt still dazed by the speed of the digital revolution that permeates all aspects of our lives, has taken notice.  Amazon, the elephant in everyone’s room, created Kindle Singles, which is dedicated to shorter works, including crime fiction.  Dutton, a subsidiary of Penguin, revived an old imprint, Guilt Edged Mysteries, to address this market.  William Morrow, an imprint of Harper Collins, is introducing Witness, a kind of sub-imprint for e-book mysteries.  Though they will publish, or in some cases, republish full-length books, they will be releasing shorter works as well — what they also call singles.  Sounds like a an appropriately appropriated music industry term.

For me, this is a good thing.  I have never been able to write the 120,000-word blockbuster — “the big book” my former agent pleaded for.  Nor do I have what it takes to write short-story crime fiction, only increasing my admiration for those who do. The novella is the perfect length for me, a Goldilocks syndrome sufferer.

With that said, I am finishing the first Indianapolis novella featuring my best-known character Deets Shanahan and his lovely girlfriend, Maureen.  And I’m in the last throes of production of the third novella in the San Francisco mystery series.  Private eye Noah Lang dominated the first two novellas.  His partner, Carly Paladino, takes the lead in this murder case, working with Inspector Gratelli.  More on these soon.

Meanwhile, let me push both Death in the Haight, published by Dutton (Penguin) $2.99 and Mascara, Death in the Tenderloin, published by Life Death & Fog Books $3.99 — two novellas that will engage you on your flight to Philadelphia or on the train from Union Station in D.C. to Grand Central in Manhattan.

A REMINDER: E-books have become available at many libraries and through Kobo at independent bookstores.

Opinion — The Side Effects Of Product Placement

Below is an updated blog post from a couple of years ago.

The extinct Studebaker

From time to time, I’ve been chastised for using brand names in my writing. I often identify the brand of beer, the make of car and, where I can make positive or at least neutral observations about the place, the name of the restaurant where the characters dine. For me, what a person chooses in his or her life helps define the character of the person I’m describing. For example, one of my characters in the San Francisco series, Noah Lang, drives a beat-up, old Mercedes. Here is a man who likes quality but can’t afford it. His specific choice — it’s kind of ratty looking — suggests that he really doesn’t care what other people think about him. He is comfortable with who he is. I could have said that he drives a “beat-up, old luxury car.” But I want to help the reader come to terms quickly. What if I used the generic “luxury car,” the reader rightfully thinks, “Could be an old Cadillac.” Well, no, that wouldn’t do what I want the description to do. I like old Cadillacs, but they are big and showy. Old Mercedes aren’t, and neither is the character.

The compact  Princess telephone

I can tell you I’ve never received a penny for naming a product, never so much as a free cup of coffee for mentioning a restaurant. Most writers pass through life anonymously — especially those of us who live well below the New York Times bestseller list. No one knows who I am. However, in an era of paid product placement, I can’t blame a reader for being suspicious of brand names appearing in the story. And it is possible to write by saying “she lit a cigarette,” or “he jumped in his convertible,” and get the job done. But truthfully, did anyone else wince when it showed James Bond driving a BMW? Could Rockford have driven a Chevette? A woman wearing a Hermes scarf or a man driving a Dodge Ram provides more telling glimpses of those character’s lives than using either the simple “scarf” or “pickup truck” or a dozen adjectives. Using a brand name can be an effective shortcut and make it real to the reader.

Again, there are no rules, only choices. A reader might have a greater sense of the timelessness of the story if those kinds of specifics are spared. Twenty years from now there may be no such thing as a Blackberry. Culturally, though, might it not be particularly rich for the writer to reflect the times with greater specificity? And would the potentially banned brand name require writers to replace Blackberry with “a versatile communications device?"

They say that if you look real hard you can still find them.

UPDATE:  In the short time since this was published, the Blackberry has nearly become an anachronism, which shows how the use of products can date a work and do so quickly.  This can be good or bad.  For me, I like to freeze the story in the time period it was created, though a young, new reader of the early Shanahans might find it hard to relate to such a world. Stone Veil was published in pre-smartphone 1989.  For me though, the real danger of using real products is that the mention is possibly a tacit endorsement or, at minimum, provides increasing awareness of the product.  And this means I may be promoting a product from a company that I believe is, to put it dramatically, doing evil things to civilization.  I hadn’t spent much time thinking about this early on.  I had no idea then that there were corporations or individuals whose lobbying budgets are bigger than the GNP of many countries. Do I really want to boost the sales (however miniscule my power to do so may be) of companies like Nestle or tycoons like the Koch brothers?

Then again, reality is reality. Most of us don’t know that when we bought this or that product we were contributing to the destruction of the rain forest, causing farmers in India to kill themselves or supporting the inhumane treatment of animals, let alone helping companies purchase legislators who will do their bidding. Nor do our characters.  But the issue is worth thinking about.

Book Notes — The Thief, Fuminori Nakamura

If writers were generals, young Fuminori Nakamura would have an embarrassment of metals and ribbons on his chest  — including a chance at The Los Angeles Times best thriller/suspense for 2012.  The Thief is his first book translated into English.  It won’t be his last.

Words and sentences are razor slices, forceful.  Quick and short.  Tough as well as elegant as they are, the minimized narrative and terse dialogue deliver surprisingly full-bodied, fully textured inner and outer worlds.  As a reader I was involuntarily swept along. Later, backing off a bit and looking at it as a writer, I wanted to understand the brush strokes of his work.  I wanted to know how he packed so much feeling into this brief, unsentimentally written book.

The story is not complex.  I would pose that it contrasts a man who lives in a world he creates and controls. We might find his life sad, tawdry, but it is not without meaning for him.  It has value here and there.  His pickpocket profession is not without some measure of fulfillment. He has talent, enjoys challenges, appreciates in a modest way his accomplishments.  He is not propelled by ambition or greed.  One could easily conclude that it is art that he practices.

One mistake. He allows others to enter his sphere — and we can argue fate and free will if we choose.  Or we can say that this Noir.  One mistake.  That’s all you get.

The Thief is published by Soho Press and translated by Satoko Izumo and Stephen Coates

Film Pairings — One Man’s Poison And A Plague On your City, All In One Night

So many films, watched years after they’re first released, don’t hold up.  On the positive side, some, not so happily welcomed at the time, look pretty good today.  D.O.A. and Panic in the Streets seem to have bested the test of time and of some its original reviews.

Few plots could be more compelling than this one that unfolds in just 83 minutes of D.O.A.  A man discovers he’s been murdered. He just isn’t dead yet. He only has 48 hours to discover who poisoned him and why. Fundamentally a fine supporting actor, Edmond O’Brien takes over the screen. It is the signature role of his career. D.O.A., in shadowy black and white, is fast-paced and tense. There are glimpses of 1950 San Francisco and Los Angeles and a Studebaker Commander convertible (Okay, that was a personal thrill). D.O.A. is a must-see for noir fans, especially for Ernest Laszlo’s brilliant camerawork.

Panic in the Streets is less single-minded. But similarly, a public health officer must find carriers of the plague and do so despite bureaucratic and criminal attempts to stop him.  Like O’Brien, The official, Richard Widmark, has a 48-hour deadline. Widmark does a great job, and he is surrounded by an extraordinary cast probably more accustomed to a Broadway stage. Director Elia Kazan brought in Barbara Bel Geddes. Paul Douglas, Jack Palance and Zero Mostel.  Panic in The Streets, also released in 1950, was filmed in New Orleans and used many of the locals in smaller roles to add authenticity — and they did.  Also, the stunning cinematography of Joseph MacDonald created a gritty realism

Whatever you drink for this wonderfully moody double feature should be consumed straight. However, make sure it hasn’t been spiked with a luminous toxin or prepared by someone with a body temperature above 104.

Observations — Travels in Color

Chinatown

Hayes Valley

Japantown

NOPA

On Writing — Creating Characters, A Grand Scheme Gone Wrong

I thought I had a brilliant idea.  And maybe it was, but I couldn’t make it work.  Skeptics though you may be, bear with me for a few sentences.  The Asian Zodiac is thousands of years old. And is far more complex and subtle than finding your sign on the paper placemat at your local Chinese restaurant. Not quite as old is the Western Zodiac, which, like its predecessor has been debunked by almost all contemporary scientists.  Even so, much critical thought has been given to the subject over the centuries and the subject is far more complex than most might imagine.  And while it may be appropriate to dismiss it, if we take it literarily rather than literally, it has value.

That is the fascination for me. Both systems, valid or not, have created incredibly sharp and detailed descriptions of various character types.  Though each sign of each system has sub characteristics based on more specific time and place of birth that would further refine them, just taking the 12 Asian principal signs and their descriptions and adding to them the 12 western signs (an Aries monkey, for example), we have 144 clearly delineated personality profiles from which to draw. It is an interesting resource.  It doesn’t matter if they are true in this case.  We are writing fiction.

Happy Year of The Water Snake

So even though I’d only be skimming the surface, I set out to write 12 mystery novellas that, when concluded, would use all the primary personalities.  With the help of charts and Suzanne White’s The New Astrology I began.  There would be three quartets before the project was completed.  I wrote the first three novellas, nearly completing the first to be called The Yellow Road To The Sun Quartet — Black Tortoise, Vermilion Bird and Blue Dragon. Unfortunately, it didn’t go well. The first two were horrible.  Only Blue Dragon had any promise.  I dumped the whole idea, but kept the one story that nearly worked. This confirmed what I suspected.  I couldn’t write characters according to a blueprint, even one of my own making. For me, even vague outlines are stifling.  But it remains an interesting challenge for some writer whose mind is more structured and whose nature is more patient.

However, I believe there are worthwhile remains. If anyone is interested, the novella, Blue Dragon, rewritten and renamed The Deadly Secrets of Ted Zheng is available free here.

Meanwhile, however you feel about astrology, Chinese New Year begins this month on the 10th.  Enjoy “The Year of the Snake.”

  

Film Pairings — Crimes Or Misdemeanors

Perhaps no crimes have been committed.  No murders, no heists, at least of a material kind.  But what about intentional humiliation?  Deceit for sexual seduction? Something more than mischievousness, something just short of emotional torture?

Les Liaisons Dangereuses was written in the late 1700s by Pierre Choderlos de Laclos.  In the 20th and 21st centuries, the book was mined for the cinema by the French, English, American, Korean and, most recently, the Chinese. There are the two available English language versions — Dangerous Liaisons and Cruel Intentions.  One is critically acclaimed.  The other has spawned nasty little sequels. And it’s probably important to understand that while the plots of these two are much the same, there couldn’t be a greater difference in style and feeling.

Similar to the initial impression of Wild Things, reviewed last week, Cruel Intentions begins as a dark teen comedy.  Unlike Wild Things, Cruel Intentions never transcends its first impression.  The style may have been intentional, though. It worked for its target market.  Ryan Phillippe, looking uncannily like Justin Bieber in this 1999 film about rich, spoiled, emotionally bullying teens, is joined by Reese Witherspoon and Sarah Michelle Gellar. Phillippe and Gellar are the foxes in the henhouse of innocence. (The “henhouse of innocence? Sorry I lost my mind there for a moment.) And when the nasty deeds are done, they must face each other.  Whatever I might say about its depth or lack of it, the film was entertaining and extraordinarily successful.  Wikipedia says that Cruel Intentions 4 will be released in 2014.

And now for something completely the same only very, very different.  Dangerous Liaisons is essentially the same plot in the hands of masters and set in the luscious excesses of 18th century France.  Christopher Hampton adapted the screenplay from his play and from the book. And Stephen Frears directed this true-to-the-period piece released in 1988.  The cast is extraordinary, featuring Glenn Close and John Malkovich as competing, evil manipulators.  Michelle Pfeiffer and Uma Thurman are not only beautiful, but also excellent in their roles.  A very young Keanu Reeves has a minor role. Much like Cruel Intentions, there is plenty of sex. But unlike the young American version, the wit is much more biting in France.  The endings of both might be considered darkly comedic or humorously tragic.

It almost has to be champagne for the evening in honor of the book that inspired all these films and certainly in the meanness that stems from the boredom of being part of the “idle” rich.  Join in for a few hours.  Spoil yourself. Indulge.