Archive for the ‘Message from M.A.C.’ Category

The Road Most Traveled

Tuesday, July 14th, 2026

The film version of Road to Perdition was released twenty-four years ago.

The 24th anniversary of anything is kind of an awkward one to be celebrating, and I note it primarily because it means next year marks twenty-five years since the film’s release, and that’s an anniversary people can wrap their heads around.

For me the release of that film signifies the moment when I had accomplished something in the popular culture that every author desires: a recognizable calling card. “By the author of Road to Perdition” (or words to that effect) would appear on the cover of almost any written work of mine that found publication.

Prior to that, the most I could muster was “from the writer of DICK TRACY,” and I was really only the second one of those. It’s important for a writer to be attached to some recognizable work, and now I had one.

In addition, the graphic novel I wrote, which was so beautifully drawn by Richard Piers Rayner, would allow me to write a novel version, two prose sequels (Road to Purgatory and Road to Paradise) and two more graphic novels (Road to Perdition 2: On the Road).

And have I mentioned here that I’m going to writing a prose sequel, Road to Hell, for Titan Books?

Speaking of anniversaries, 2026 will mark the thirtieth anniversary of the graphic novel’s publication (by DC Vertigo). You can bet we’ll be pounding the pavement about that anniversary.

From the beginning, editor Andrew Helfer and I had seen Road to Perdition as the start of a long saga, initially one that would have father and son Michael O’Sullivan and Michael Jr. on the road for hundreds of pages, perhaps as many as 900, robbing banks and being pursued by the Capone mob. Also posited was following Michael Jr. into an adulthood where he would seek vengeance against Frank Nitti and grow up, ironically, into a high-up mobster himself before eventually turning to the priesthood.

It was always ambitious, but initially the project got derailed when DC’s attempt to do a series of graphic novels fizzled and Road to Perdition barely got itself published (thanks to publisher Paul Kupperberg). But a few years later, movie moguls Dean Zanuck and his father Richard noticed the graphic novel and the rest is history – my history, anyway.


Director Sam Mendes and actor Paul Newman on set of Road to Perdition.

People on the Internet and on social media are noticing Perdition’s ride, and I’d like to share as article about that journey, which appeared today. It was posted on Facebook by SUPERMAN: A Who’s Who of the Man of Steel administrator Dennis Hays (not sure if he’s the author).

Road to Perdition Film Release and Production

On this date, July 12, 2002, Road to Perdition was released in the US.

Road to Perdition is an American crime thriller film directed by Sam Mendes. The screenplay was adapted by David Self, from the graphic novel of the same name by Max Allan Collins. The film stars Tom Hanks, Paul Newman (in his final live-action film role), Jude Law, and Daniel Craig. The plot takes place in 1931, during the Great Depression, following a mob enforcer and his son as they seek vengeance against a mobster who murdered the rest of their family.

(NOTE FROM MAC: Road to Perdition was Newman’s last feature film role. He then went on to appear in 2005’s HBO miniseries, Empire Falls, winning an Emmy.)

Filming took place in the Chicago area. Mendes, having recently finished 1999’s acclaimed American Beauty, pursued a story that had minimal dialogue and conveyed emotion in the imagery. Cinematographer Conrad Hall took advantage of the environment to create symbolism for the film, for which he won several awards, including a posthumous Academy Award for Best Cinematography. The film explores several themes, including the consequence of violence and father-son relationships.

The film was released on July 12, 2002, and eventually grossed over $180 million worldwide. The cinematography, setting, and the lead performances by Hanks and Newman were well received by critics. A home media release debuted on February 25, 2003.

When Max Allan Collins wrote the graphic novel Road to Perdition, his book agent saw potential in the story as a film adaptation and showed it to a film agent. By 1999, the novel had reached Dean Zanuck, who was the vice president of development at the company owned by his father, producer Richard D. Zanuck. The novel was sent to the elder Zanuck in Morocco, who was there producing Rules of Engagement (2000). The Zanucks agreed on the story’s prospect and sent it to director-producer Steven Spielberg. Shortly afterward, Spielberg set up the project at his studio DreamWorks, though he did not pursue direction of the film due to his full slate.

Mendes sought a new project after completing American Beauty (1999) and explored prospects including A Beautiful Mind, K-PAX, The Shipping News, and The Lookout. DreamWorks sent Mendes Road to Perdition as a prospect, and Mendes was attracted to the story, considering it “narratively very simple, but thematically very complex.” One theme that he saw in the story was of the parents’ world that is inaccessible to their children. Mendes considered the story’s theme to be about how children deal with violence, and whether exposure to violence would render children violent themselves. Mendes described the script as having “no moral absolutes,” a factor that appealed to the director.

(NOTE FROM MAC: Mendes had seen the graphic novel but not a “script,” as none yet existed.)

Spielberg first contacted screenwriter David Self to adapt the story into a feature film. Self wrote an initial draft that remained close to the source material and retained most of its dialogue. The screenplay was then rewritten by uncredited writers, distancing the script from the graphic novel and leaving the core elements of the story. Some of the harsher aspects of the story were toned down as the script became more streamlined; for example, in some early drafts of the screenplay, Sullivan became an alcoholic, but this element was ultimately absent from the final version.

(NOTE FROM MAC: The alcoholism aspect reported here was not in the graphic novel or in any of the various versions of the script I saw. Nor did any of them scripts “distance themselves” from the graphic novel’s story.)

The story itself is deeply informed by the Lone Wolf and Cub manga series. Novelist Max Allan Collins acknowledged the influence of Lone Wolf and Cub on his graphic novel Road to Perdition in an interview to the BBC, declaring that “Road To Perdition is ‘an unabashed homage’ to Lone Wolf And Cub.”

(NOTE FROM MAC: I don’t recall saying that, though I might have, as Lone Wolf and Cub was in the mix with: historical John and Connor Looney, the Rock Island, Illinois, gangsters; the heroic bloodshed of John Woo’s Hong Kong films; and my desire to combine the ‘30s urban gangsters with their rural outlaw counterparts. Basically, The Godfather Meets Bonnie and Clyde.)

Some of the characters’ names were slightly changed from their original versions from the graphic novel: the surname of the real-life gangsters John Looney and his son Connor were changed to Rooney, and the surname of Tom Hanks’ character and his family was streamlined from the original O’Sullivan to simply Sullivan. One significant addition to the script was the creation of Maguire to provide a persistent element of pursuit to the Sullivans’ departure from the old world.

(NOTE FROM MAC: Maguire was created because the graphic novel had originally been intended for serialization with a series of hitmen pursuing the father and son, and being defeated by them one by one. Also, “Looney” was changed by the filmmakers to “Rooney” to make the name sound less “comic booky.” As we say in the comics, “Sigh.”)

Hanks and cinematographer Conrad Hall requested Mendes to limit violence in the film to meaningful acts, rather than gratuitous carnage. Hanks’ character, Michael Sullivan, is known as “The Angel of Death” in the graphic novel and invokes fear in those around him, but his infamy is downplayed in the film. Mendes, who described the graphic novel as “much more pulpy,” sought to reduce the graphic novel’s background to its essence, seeking the “nonverbal simplicity” of films like Once Upon a Time in America (1984), Pat Garrett and Billy the Kid (1973), and films by Akira Kurosawa that lack dialogue. Duplicate language in characters’ confrontations in Road to Perdition was trimmed to the absolute minimum. Mendes described Road to Perdition as a “poetic, elegiac story, in which the pictures tell the story.” An example of one such unspoken scene in the film was the piano duet between Rooney and Michael Sr., intended to convey their relationship without words. In the final 20 minutes of Road to Perdition, the script was written to have only six lines of dialogue.

(NOTE FROM MAC: This reflects the desire of Mendes and DreamWorks wanting to distance themselves from the “comics” source. Understand, the status of the graphic novel form at the dawn of the 21st Century was quite unlike today – it was mostly superhero stuff and artier material like Maus. I had to object when DreamWorks left the word “graphic novel” off my credit in early materials, making it simply “novel.” And anyone who has read the graphic novel knows how leanly written it is.)

The author of the Perdition graphic novel, Max Allan Collins, originally wanted to write the adapted screenplay for the feature film, but was not given the opportunity. He chose to stay out of the scripting process out of respect for the different style of writing for a different medium, though he served as a consultant in the process. Collins praised the addition of Maguire and considered the minimalist use of dialogue to be appropriate. The author also applauded the film’s version of Rooney as “more overtly a father figure” to Sullivan.

Collins opposed the profanity in the script, as the vulgar language did not fit his vision of the 1930s. He also contested the path of Sullivan’s son in the film. In the graphic novel, the son kills once, and in the film, he does not kill anyone. Collins also disagreed with the narration technique of the film. In the novel, the son narrates the story as an adult, becoming a priest, while in the film, he narrates while still a young boy.

(NOTE FROM MAC: Generally true, and I applaud the bigger emphasis on the dual fathers-and-sons. But I dislike the cop-out ending of the film, which has the father killing the hitman when the son can’t bring himself to do so. It’s understandable, though, since my true ending – where it’s revealed the tale has been told by the adult Michael Jr., who is now a priest – wasn’t used. By the way, at the New York premiere, Steven Spielberg took me aside and said, “I like your ending better.”)

Before filming, Mendes sought to produce a period film that would avoid clichés in the gangster genre. He chose to film Road to Perdition on location in downtown at the University Club of Chicago, the Chicago neighborhood of Pullman as well as the Chicago suburb of Geneva, Illinois. The Armory, the state’s largest location mainstay which houses the Illinois State National Guard, was provided to the studio by the Illinois State Film Commission. Sets were built inside the Armory, including interiors of the Sullivan family’s home and the Rooney mansion. The availability of an inside location provided the crew complete control over the lighting environment, which was established with the rigging of scaffoldings.

Mendes collaborated with costume designer Albert Wolsky, production designer Dennis Gassner, and cinematographer Conrad Hall to design the film’s style. Wolsky designed costumes that were “very controlled, with soft outlines and very soft silhouettes.” Gassner built sets that could capture the cold look of the era. Mendes sought a muted palette for the film, having dark backgrounds and sets with dark, muted greens and grays. Mendes filmed Road to Perdition using the Super 35 format.

The director filmed exterior scenes in Illinois in the winter and the spring of 2001, using real weather conditions such as snow, rain, and mud for the scenes. Mendes considered the usage of bleak weather conditions and the intended coldness of Gassner’s exterior locations to define the characters’ emotional states. Pullman became a key location to reflect this theme, having several settings, including the town’s historic Florence Hotel, easily redressed by the crew for the film. Filming concluded in June 2001.

To establish the lighting of scenes in Road to Perdition, Mendes drew from the paintings of Edward Hopper as a source of inspiration, particularly Hopper’s New York Movie (1939). Mendes and cinematographer Conrad Hall sought to convey similar atmospheric lighting for the film’s scenes, applying a “less is more” mantra. Hall also shot wide open scenes that retained one point in the depth of field sharply focused. Hall considered the technique to provide an emotional dimension to the scenes. The cinematographer also used unconventional techniques and materials to create unique lighting effects. One of Hall’s methods was to use black silk in daylight exterior scenes to filter the light enough to create an in-shade look.

Hall purposely distanced the camera from Hanks’ character, Michael Sullivan, Sr., at the beginning of the film to establish the perspective of Sullivan’s son, who is unaware of his father’s true nature. Hanks’ character was filmed as partially obscured and seen through doorways, and his entrances and exits took place in shadows. A wide lens was used to maintain a distance from the character.

Shots in the film were drawn directly from panels in the graphic novel, illustrated by Richard Piers Rayner. An instance of the direct influence is the scene in which Michael, Jr. looks up at the Chicago skyline from the vehicle, with the skyline reflected in the vehicle’s glass. A seamless 40-second driving scene, in which Michael Sullivan and his son travel into Chicago from the countryside, was aided by visual effects. The live-action part of the scene was filmed at LaSalle Street, and due to the lack of scenery for part of the drive down LaSalle Street, the background of Balbo Drive was included with the use of visual effects.

(NOTE FROM MAC: The Richard Piers Rayner influence was far greater than the Edward Hopper one.)

The film’s title, Road to Perdition, is both Michael Sullivan and his son’s destination town and a euphemism for Hell, a road that Sullivan desires to prevent his son from traveling. Sullivan, who chooses his violent path early on in life, considers himself irredeemable and seeks to save his son from a similar fate.

Said Mendes, “[Sullivan] is in a battle for the soul of his son. Can a man who has led a bad life achieve redemption through his child?” Hanks described Sullivan as a man who achieved a comfortable status through violent means, whose likely repercussions he ignored. Sullivan is a good father and husband, but also has a job that requires him to be a violent killer. The film explores this paradoxical dichotomy. When Sullivan is faced with the consequences, Hanks says, “At the moment we’re dropped into the story, it is literally the last day of that false perspective.” To keep Sullivan from justifying his violent actions in the film, Mendes omitted scenes in the final cut that had Sullivan explaining his background to his son.

(NOTE FROM MAC: Is it too self-serving of me to remind everyone that I came up with title Road to Perdition, and the themes that goes with it? Particularly when there were attempts made to change the title to something more commercial? It seems the Zanucks fought for my title and won.)

In the film, most of the numerous acts of violence are committed off-screen. The violent acts were also designed to be quick, reflecting the actual speed of violence in the real world. The focus was not on the direct victims of the perpetuated violence, but the impact of violence on the perpetrators or witnesses to the act.

The film also explores father-son relationships, not only between Michael Sullivan and his son, but between Sullivan and his boss, John Rooney, and between Rooney and Connor. Sullivan simultaneously idolizes and fears Rooney, and Sullivan’s son feels the same about his own father. Rooney’s son, Connor, has none of Sullivan’s redeeming qualities, and Rooney is conflicted about whom to protect: his biological son or his surrogate son. Connor is jealous of his father’s relationship with Sullivan, which fuels his actions, ultimately causing a domino effect that drives the film.

Because Sullivan shields his background from his son, his attempt to preserve the father-son relationship is actually harmful. Tragedy brings Sullivan and his son together. Sullivan escapes from the old world with his son, and the boy finds an opportunity to strengthen the relationship with his father.

Tyler Hoechlin, who portrayed Michael, Jr., explained, “His dad starts to realize that Michael is all he has now and how much he’s been missing. I think the journey is of a father and son getting to know each other, and also finding out who they themselves are.”

Water served as a motif in the film. It was developed after researching the wake scene at the beginning of the film informed the director that corpses were kept on ice in the 1920s to keep bodies from decomposing. The notion was interwoven into the film, which linked the presence of water with death. Mendes reflected on the theme, “The linking of water with death… speaks of the mutability of water and links it to the uncontrollability of fate. These are things that humans can’t control.”

When filming concluded in June 2001, the studio intended a United States release for the following Christmas. But by September 2001, Mendes requested more time. It was rescheduled for release on July 12, 2002, an unconventional move that placed the drama among the action-oriented summer films.

Road to Perdition opened in 1,798 theaters over its opening weekend, competing against several other new releases including Reign of Fire, Halloween: Resurrection, and The Crocodile Hunter: Collision Course, and grossed $22,079,481, placing second to Men in Black II, which was in its second week of release. It eventually grossed $104,454,762 in the United States and $76,546,716 in other territories for a worldwide total of $181,001,478.

The film received positive reviews and acclaim from critics, with the lead performances of Hanks and Newman being praised. Reviewer James Berardinelli, on his own ReelViews web site, praised Road to Perdition for its atmosphere and visuals, but he considered an emotional attachment to be lacking except for Sullivan’s son. Roger Ebert of the Chicago Sun-Times praised Hall’s cinematography and the thematic use of water. He, too, felt an emotional detachment from the characters, saying, “I knew I admired it, but I didn’t know if I liked it… It is cold and holds us outside.”

Eleanor Ringel Gillespie of The Atlanta Journal-Constitution enjoyed the film’s cinematography and Depression-era setting, as well as the performances of Hanks and Newman. Gillespie expressed the wish that the film lasted a little longer to explore its emotional core further. Eric Harrison of the Houston Chronicle considered Road to Perdition “the most brilliant work in this [gangster] genre” since the uncut Once Upon a Time in America (1984). Harrison considered Self’s script “so finely honed that the story can change directions in a heartbeat.”

Kirk Honeycutt of The Hollywood Reporter praised Hanks, Newman, and Craig but called Law’s performance “almost cartoonish”. Peter Travers of Rolling Stone also complimented Hanks and Newman: “[They] act together with the confidence of titans, their talents in the service of character, never star ego.” Travers cited Hall’s “breathtaking” cinematography and composer Thomas Newman’s “evocative” score.

Paul Clinton of CNN said: “While these deeply human issues are touched upon, they’re never fully explored, and that undermines the sense of greatness to which this movie obviously aspires. Clinton considered Craig’s character “one-dimensional to the extreme.” He found the cinematography too overpowering for the film’s storyline, which he considered “weak.” J. Hoberman of The Village Voice described the film as “grim yet soppy.” He added: “The action is stilted and the tabloid energy embalmed.” Stephen Hunter of The Washington Post thought that the script lost its path when Sullivan and his son fled their old life.

Review aggregation website Rotten Tomatoes gives the film a score of 81% based on reviews from 210 critics, with an average score of 7.5/10. Metacritic, which assigns a weighted average score out of 100 from reviews by mainstream critics, gave a film rating of 72/100 based on 36 reviews.

(NOTE FROM MAC: Despite a handful of misgivings, I like the film version of Perdition very much, and feel inordinately lucky to have it produced on such a high, expert level. Some of these reviews seem silly to me, and I can back that up by saying the film continues to be on countless “best of” lists whether it be “best gangster movie” or “best comics adaptation” or Tom Hanks’ best performance or…on and on.)

Road to Perdition was nominated for six Academy Awards: Best Supporting Actor (Paul Newman), Best Art Direction, Best Cinematography (Conrad L. Hall), Best Original Score (Thomas Newman), Best Sound (Scott Millan, Bob Beemer and John Pritchett), and Best Sound Editing (Scott Hecker). The sole award went, posthumously, to Hall for Cinematography.

The film was also nominated for BAFTA Awards for Best Performance by an Actor in a Supporting Role (Newman), Best Cinematography, and Best Production Design, winning awards for the latter two. Hall also won an award from the American Society of Cinematographers for Outstanding Achievement in Cinematography in Theatrical Releases.[36] In April 2006, Empire recognized Road to Perdition as number six in its list of the top 20 comic book films.

Max Allan Collins, who authored the graphic novel, was hired to write the novelization for the film adaptation. Collins initially turned in a draft that contained 90,000 words, but the licensing at DreamWorks required the author to use only the dialogue from the film and no additional dialogue. Collins reluctantly edited the novelization down to 50,000 words and later said he regretted taking on the task.

(Of course the happy ending there is that I was finally able to publish my full novelization, in tandem with trade paperbacks of Road to Purgatory and Road to Paradise, thanks to Brash Books. A link is at the end of this Update.)

Road to Perdition was released on DVD on February 25, 2003, in both full screen and anamorphic widescreen versions. The DVD’s features included an audio commentary, deleted scenes, an HBO “Making of” documentary, and a photo gallery. Work on the DVD began on the same day the film’s production began, and a collaborative effort among the director, the studio, and the DVD production crew shaped the DVD’s content. Due to a limit of space on the DVD, the film’s deleted scenes were chosen over a DTS soundtrack. Instead, the DVD included a Dolby Digital 5.1 soundtrack. A special edition DVD containing both DTS and Dolby Digital 5.1 soundtracks was also released, excluding the “Making of” documentary to fit both soundtracks.

Road to Perdition was released on Blu-ray Disc on August 3, 2010, featuring a widescreen transfer, a DTS-HD Master Audio 5.1 soundtrack, and all of the features from the DVD release.

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You can get my complete prose novel of Road to Perdition here – the full version.

And Road to Purgatory here.

And Road to Paradise here.

The graphic novel Road to Perdition 2: On the Road is available here.

And the final chapter, Return to Perdition, is here.

M.A.C.

Nate Heller, Mike Hammer and a Friend of Theirs Passes

Tuesday, July 7th, 2026

If you’re a fan of my Nathan Heller books – or just a dedicated reader of mine – and you have not yet ordered True Noir: The Assassination of Anton Cermak, well…you are missing out. Director Robert Meyer Burnett directs an amazingly stellar cast with full sound effects and a terrific score by Alexander Bornstein, all in service of a script by me from my novel True Detective. It’s just under five hours.

I think this is the best dramatic adaptation of my work, ever. You can get the download, the Audio CD (four CD’s) and an MP3 CD right here.

The portrayal of Nate Heller by Michael Rosenbaum is key to the enterprise. He totally “gets” Nate Heller. If you don’t recognize the name, here’s a pic he sent me the other day after I sent him the physical media version (the 4-CD set).

Michael Rosenbaum, True Noir

Michael is probably best-known for his iconic portrayal of Lex Luthor on the hit CW series Smallville, but also his and his voice work as The Flash in the DC Animated Universe. Beyond his numerous acting roles, as in Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2 and Vol. 3, Michael is also the host and creator of the celebrity interview show Inside of You – one of the most entertaining podcasts around with a star-studded array of guests. He also happens to be a genuinely nice guy.

Here’s some of the rest of the cast, by the way:
David Strathairn; Anthony LaPaglia; Jeffrey Combs; Thomas Howell; Adam Arkin; Katee Sackhoff; Vincent Pastore; William Sadler; Jesse Spencer; P.J. Byrne; Saverio Guerra; Louis Lombardi; Bill Smitrovich; Patton Oswalt; Curtis Armstrong; Barry Bostwick; Bill Mumy; Renée Taylor, Don McManus; Devon Conrad; and Richard Portnow. And that’s not everybody.

What are you waiting for?

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Last week I discussed, somewhat off the top of my head, my favorite portrayals of Mike Hammer on TV and in the movies. I made an egregious omission: Armand Assante in the 1982 version of I, the Jury. I am a big fan of Assante’s Mike Hammer and, in general, of the film itself, which is violent and sexy in a way no previous version had attempted (or any since, for that matter). Hammer’s relationship with Velda (Laurene Landon, whose blondeness we’ll forgive) is spot on, and the classic ending (and last line) is restored.

The movie got lost in the shuffle because the production company behind it went bankrupt. Terry Beatty and I drove from Muscatine, Iowa, to Chicago, Illinois to see it – driving in and back the same day/night. A six-hour round trip, not factoring in bathroom breaks and food. Later, to get the 1982 I, the Jury on physical media, I paid over a hundred bucks (a kajillion dollars in today’s money) for a Japanese laser disc (I owned the VHS, too, and of course the later blu-ray.) I wrote rather glowingly about it in Spillane on Film and Spillane: King of Pulp Fiction.

I, The Jury (1982)

So why, other than feeble-minded old age, could I forget about it last week?

It was easy. I, the Jury (1982) was a (at the time) modern take on Mike Hammer and his debut novel. It holds a unique place in the Hammer filmography. The earlier TV and movie renditions were fifties and early sixties animals. When Hammer was done on TV in the ‘80s and ‘90s, he was done in a contemporary fashion but as a man out of time – as if Mike Hammer had jumped into a time machine around 1952 and emerged in that later era, where he was presented as a glorious dinosaur. (It’s not unlike what I did with Hammer’s protype Mike Danger, having him wake up in a politically correct future in the comic book Mickey and I developed for Big Entertainment.)

How to do Hammer on film – whether to make him a version of Mike in modern day (whatever modern day that happens to be) or to approach him in period, for example adapting one of the early novels with a ‘50s setting – is a conundrum Hollywood is still facing. Much discussion among movie folk has gone on about how to present Hammer today, including the notion of doing him in his original time frame. I see some real advantages to doing that, but usually the discussion comes around to the need (for all sorts of reasons) to do him modern-day. The Keach version managed to split the difference, in a way – but that was in the ‘80s; now the man-out-of-time approach would have a 1940s/1950s character operating over 70 years later.

A new Hammer movie is still percolating and the most recent script I saw worked pretty well, but the political mood of the country makes the character problematic. Even back in the day critics saw Hammer (wrongly) as a fascistic figure; today, if he mirrored (for example) Donald Trump’s world view, that would put him on the side of ICE agents. Yet Mickey’s Mike Hammer has friends of all sorts of ethnicities.

Hammer’s vigilante tendencies don’t transfer well to today. So it’s at best tricky, and at worst impossible, to do the urban avenger in any way that isn’t offensive to somebody. Ironically, Spillane was never really political with Hammer. Take One Lonely Night: the bad guys are “Commies,” but the top Commie turned out to be the Senator Joe McCarthy figure! Mickey always went for the surprise.

Yes, Mickey leaned into Ayn Rand territory in his Tiger Mann books; but political themes were rare in the Hammer novels.

I would vote for a period Hammer, but it will almost certainly not happen.

Anyway, Assante’s Hammer was a glorious success (artistically speaking) of bringing him effectively into the early 1980s. But, due in part to the meager release the movie got, that version didn’t get anywhere near the pop cultural purchase of Stacy Keach’s Mike Hammer.

Let’s talk, for a moment, about lists of favorites – whether it’s candy bars or movies. There is a difference between “best” and “favorite.” My favorite Hammer (not counting Mickey) is Darren McGavin. Why? Largely because he was my introduction to the character. Also, that TV show was set in – produced in! – the 1950s. Mike Hammer’s era.

Who was the best Hammer? Mickey wouldn’t agree, but Assante would be a contender on the big screen – he was the most authentic in terms of sexuality and violence and a genuinely conveyed thirst for vengeance.

An argument could be made for Biff Elliott because, again, he was operating in the 1950s and was a hot-headed roughneck right out of the original novels.

But the best Mike Hammer? Even Mickey came to think Ralph Meeker was the best movie Hammer, despite the film turning its source on its head. Meeker was a terrific actor in the Method mode whose best role was Hammer, and he inhabited the best Hammer movie, which is even fairly faithful to the novel. No movie, to date, has captured Spillane better, despite its agenda to criticize Mickey.

As far as TV goes, I would say “best” has to be shared by Keach and McGavin.

But my favorite? I told you last week.

* * *

My pal and sometime collaborator Matt Clemens interviewed me on his podcast recently about Return of the Maltese Falcon. Here it is.

And here Road to Perdition makes a list of the six “darkest comic book masterpieces.”

* * *

I lost a colleague last week. You meet all sorts of people in publishing, and many of them are worth knowing, but few have been as delightful to deal with as Titan’s publicist, Katharine Carroll.

Only the most financially successful writers – at least those of my generation and the one or two after it – could afford to hire publicists. So a writer is dependent on the publisher’s publicist, and this is very much a hit-and-miss affair. Frequently only the most successful writers get the kind of attention from a publisher’s publicist that proves fruitful.

Katharine was an exception. She was always open to considering my wildest suggestions. For example, she got us enormous attention for Mike Hammer’s 75th anniversary and Mickey Spillane’s 100th birthday. She would kick ideas around with me and then follow through. I had many wonderful, positive conversations with her. We were just starting work on Quarry’s 50th anniversary.

But that’s business. In the lonely writing game, the friendly voice on a telephone and the lighting-fast e-mails in reply to whatever screwy notion I might have, these are things that can’t be measured.

I’ll share a little about her below. But it’s not enough.

Katharine Trowbridge
Katharine Trowbridge
U.S. Publicist for Titan Publishing, Dies at 68

Jim Milliot/Jul 06, 2026

Katharine Trowbridge, who oversaw the U.K.-based Titan Publishing Group’s U.S. publicity effort for 18 years, died on June 28. She was 68.

Known professionally as Katharine T. Carroll, Trowbridge began her publicity career with Time Inc. in 1980, spending a decade working across campaigns with Time, Life, People, and Entertainment Weekly. In 1990, she launched her own publicity firm, KTCommunications, where she worked with a range of magazines, authors, and publishing companies.

She joined Titan in 2008 and is credited by the company owners with helping to grow the publisher in the U.S. She was particularly instrumental in helping to revive the respected Hard Case Crime imprint founded by Dorchester Publishing and acquired by Titan in 2011. A native New Yorker, Trowbridge was a regular at New York Comic Con, where she connected U.S. journalists and booksellers with Titan titles such as Dreadful by Caitlin Rozakis, Titan’s first-ever U.S. original fiction title to hit the New York Times bestseller list.

“We are devastated by the loss of Katharine,” said Titan Entertainment Group co-owners Nick Landau and Vivian Cheung in a statement. “She had the warmest of personalities and cared deeply for all her authors as well as her colleagues on both sides of the Atlantic. Her contribution to Titan enabled us to grow far faster in the U.S. than we ever thought possible. We will miss her dearly.”

Trowbridge is survived by her three children and her mother.

M.A.C.

Ever Wonder Who My Favorite Screen Mike Hammer Is?

Tuesday, June 30th, 2026

I guess I haven’t talked as much about Mickey Spillane’s Mike Hammer here as you might expect. But my pal Andrew Sumner – also my editor in the UK at Titan Books – sent me this fun audience-recorded clip of Ray Gelato and his band performing “Harlem Nocturne,” which was the theme of the Mike Hammer TV show. It’s a lovely job of it.

For Andrew and a lot of Hammer fans, the entry point for Mickey and Mike seems to be the three TV series and the various TV movies starring Stacy Keach, which were the last time Hammer hit the popular culture hard in the late twentieth century, a time when Mike Hammer ruled until James Bond came along, an imitator of sorts who usurped the original. Stacy was Mike starting in 1983 and as late as 1998 (not counting the early 2000’s audios I did with him).

You might expect my entry point to have been the novels themselves, and I started reading those and Mickey’s other books at a very young age. But my introduction to Hammer was through the 1958-1959 syndicated series starring Darren McGavin. Mickey Spillane’s Mike Hammer was a tough show with episodes written by various pulp writers and adapted from pulp stories with McGavin extraordinarily hardhitting and violent with just enough tongue-in-cheek humor to get past the censors despite the bevy of sexy ‘50s starlets who also inhabited the series.

Pat Chambers was present, played mostly by Bart Burns, but Velda – mentioned a few times – was not. (In my fannish mind she was absent because, in the books, she disappeared behind the Iron Curtain for a decade or so.) At times, in interviews, McGavin disowned the character, but the persona he developed on the series was one he carried with him into The Outsider, The Night Stalker and countless other TV appearances post-Hammer.

The series was mostly shot on the Republic backlot but with enough location shooting in NYC to sell it. McGavin was a great Hammer, though Mickey was unhappy that a .38 replaced the trademark .45. Part of what made McGavin work for viewers at a time when Spillane himself was a big media figure was McGavin’s physical resemblance to the character’s creator.

Check out this complete rendition by Martin of the full Riff Blues/Hammer theme, with some cool images.

Hammer on screen was always a problem. The first-person nature of the novels meant that everybody had a mental image of who this tough private eye was. That included Mickey, who didn’t think the original screen Mike Hammer, the still underrated Biff Elliot, was big enough. Mickey lobbied for his cop pal Jack Stang, who did a test film directed by Mickey and whose image appeared as Hammer here and there in the mid-‘50s.

But Stang was no actor. In the film Ring of Fear (1954), Stang was implied to be Hammer under an alias, but it was Mickey playing himself – famous mystery writer Mickey Spillane – who seemed like Hammer come to life.

That led to Mickey taking over the role in the first movie following McGavin’s TV run, The Girl Hunters (1962). Though not everyone agrees with me, I’ve always felt Mickey did a terrific job, and one that was actually compatible with McGavin’s take. Mickey also fit in well with the other accurate screen Hammer, the aforementioned Biff Elliot, who was the first motion-picture Mike in I, the Jury (1953).

Already you may have noticed there’s a small army of actors who have portrayed Hammer. Ian Fleming was lucky the producers of Dr. No (also 1962) stumbled onto Sean Connery. And a question I am often asked is: who’s your favorite Hammer on screen?

First, let’s rule Mickey out. Obviously he’s my sentimental favorite – The Girl Hunters (1963) is the most faithful to the character and the novels, and Mickey was and is Mike Hammer, so let’s set that aside.

Who are Hammer actors that are not favorite Hammers of mine? Robert Bray is physically correct but overacts blusteringly throughout the rather dismal My Gun Is Quick (1957). A bare-headed Brian Keith played Hammer well enough in the abortive pilot that preceded the McGavin series; but he’s not really Hammer. Kevin Dobson in Margin for Murder (1981) was just okay (Cindy Pickett was badly miscast as Velda). Rob Estes was Hammer in name only in Come Die With Me (1994).

Now it gets tricky.

Ralph Meeker is the best big-screen Mike Hammer, but his take – and director Robert Aldrich’s and screenwriter A.I. Bezzerides’ – is so counter to Spillane’s intention as to be irrelevant to this discussion. Meeker and Kiss Me Deadly (1955) are oranges while we are discussing apples. I love the movie – it’s my favorite Hammer film by a country mile – but it sits in a niche of its own, the anti-Spillane movie that nonetheless captures Spillane’s mood, sex, violence, pace and tone better than any other.

Who does that leave?

Stacy Keach did the impossible – he lightly kidded Hammer while remaining tough; in this he’s similar to McGavin. But McGavin – and Biff Elliot, Ralph Meeker and Mickey Spillane himself – were of the original Hammer era. The Keach Hammer is a man out of time, a motif the series effectively played with in its best episodes. I’m honored to have worked with this great actor on two audio dramas and hold his Hammer in high regard.

I have to rule out Gary Sandy, who appeared in the only stage version of Mike Hammer to date – in three live productions at three venues, the final time in Muscatine, Iowa, and captured on camera in Mickey Spillane’s Encore for Murder, which I wrote and directed.

But it was Darren McGavin’s Hammer who captured my adolescent imagination. And the episodes hold up. A good half dozen of the 78 episodes were rage-filled, vengeance-fueled visits to Spillane’s world at its harshest.

So, with my arm twisted, I have to tip my invisible fedora to Darren McGavin. And admit that Skip Martin’s “Riff Blues” – the Mickey Spillane’s Mike Hammer theme – will always take my personal first place over the great “Harlem Nocturne.”

Listen and look: here is the McGavin opening followed by the three Keach openings with some of the greatest private eye music you’ll ever hear.

M.A.C.

If You Don’t Like Love Stories, Skip This One

Tuesday, June 23rd, 2026

Barb and I celebrated our 58th wedding anniversary on June 18. As we have done in recent years, we did so in a favorite getaway location of ours — a day trip on a beautiful early summer day. Galena is in the midst of deep, lushly green valleys of trees and decorative stone. Storybook stuff.

We started going together in the fall of 1966, at Muscatine Community College, when we were just about the only two of our high school crowd who didn’t go off to college anywhere but Muscatine, Iowa. We’d known each other in grade school and junior high – I’d had a crush on her in the fourth grade – and we played trumpet, side by side, in the junior high band. She was much better at trumpet than me, which may be why our friendship didn’t blossom into romance just then, as I hear males have fragile egos.

Our romance ran hot and heavy. We were one of those couples hanging all over each other in the community college halls that make everyone but themselves sick. We parked and made out and had a quite wonderful time – so wonderful that Barb’s mother tried to break us up by hauling her off to Arizona on false pretenses (a story in itself, which I will skip). Barb was out of my life for a few months, but she returned and we picked up where we left off and then some.

We married young, as Barb had a home situation I wanted to get her out of (and she wanted that, too – this has to do with the Arizona story I am skipping). So she was 19 and I’d just turned twenty. Our honeymoon in Chicago consisted of transplanted Broadway shows, movies in vast downtown palaces (all gone now) and incredible restaurants (many gone now), and a stay at the Bismarck Hotel (also gone now). It was a very Nathan Heller honeymoon, though Nate wasn’t born yet (neither the fictional character nor his namesake son of ours). Among other things, including some touristy stuff like the Museum of Science and Industry and the Art Institute, Barb patiently accompanied me on a search of used bookstores, seeking the two Richard Stark paperbacks I lacked.

The latter indicates not only Barb’s enduring patience with me and my quirks, but the extent to which we became, quite early on, inseparable. For people who really know us, we are Barb-and-Al. Did we have bumps in the road? One major one, about eight years in, but we both realized what we had – that it was special — and came to our senses.

We have made short stories, books and movies and one spectacular child together. But most all of we have been supportive and loving, and laughed and laughed and laughed.

The current joy of our life is our grandchildren, Sam and Lucy, so very smart and loving, both of them. And our son Nate – their father – and his wife Abby – their mother – live just up the street from us. How great is that?

But the love of my life remains Barbara Jane Mull, who became Barb Collins and my best friend. That she is an enduring beauty has not been at all bad, either.

M.A.C.