Posts Tagged ‘Interviews’

Many Happy Returns

Tuesday, February 3rd, 2026

The Return of the Maltese Falcon continues to dominate around here. We continue to get lovely notices, and this one from The Strand is a doozy:

We encourage sending pics of Return from your phones spotted out in the wild of Return on display. Barnes & Noble has improved on the title, but reports still come in that the book is not anywhere in certain individual stores. If you are a brave, hearty soul, go to the Help Counter and ask if it’s in stock, and if it isn’t, whether more are on the way. (You don’t have to buy the book at B & N to do this.)

Also, reviews posted at Amazon are highly helpful, however short, though we’ve had some really smart, well-written long ones, as well. Worth doing at Barnes & Noble dot com, too – considerably fewer reviews have been posted there, but still a fair number.

John-Jr-Jackson, an Imagination Connoisseur, wrote Patton Oswalt an Instagram recommendation:

Hey man , I know you like classic films and reading books , so I wanted to recommend a book to you if that is ok. Return of The Maltese Falcon by Max Allan Collins. It’s a great book and pure noir goodness. Thought I would throw that on to your radar.

That’s very cool, as Patton is not only a friend (well, friendly acquaintance), but did me the favor of joining the all-star cast of True Noir: The Assassination of Anton Cermak.

By the way, a big, big, big date for me is coming up:

FEBRUARY 17, 2026

Why is that date important? It’s the official release date of two major projects of mine.

First – and more exciting news about this will follow in the next few Updates – True Noir: The Assassination of Anton Cermak, the 4 ½ full, full-cast adaptation written by me (from the first Nathan Heller novel, True Detective), will be officially released worldwide. You’ll find it downloadable at Audible and elsewhere, and will be able to order the Skyboat Media 4-CD set (yay physical media!).

February 17 is also the release date of the Antiques/Trash ‘n’ Treasures movie, Death by Fruitcake, based on the novels by Barbara Allan (wife Barb and me), adapted from a novella of ours and co-produced by Barb. The great cast is topped by Emmy winner Paula Sands, Midwest superstar Alisabeth Von Presley, and my Blue Christmas lead, Rob Merritt. Chad T. Bishop shot and edited our modestly budgeted film and I directed it.

Pre-order the DVD here (no blu-ray).

One of the best reviews and interviews, relating to Return of the Maltese Falcon, appears at J. Kingston Pierce’s indispensable Rap Sheet. I’m taking the liberty of reprinting the review portion this week.

SPADE GOES BACK TO BIRD-HUNTING

Pinkerton detective-turned-author Dashiell Hammett realized he had something special on his hands when he submitted his revised, typewritten version of The Maltese Falcon to publisher Alfred A. Knopf in July 1929, asking that Knopf (who had previously handled his books Red Harvest and The Dain Curse) practice restraint in editing this latest manuscript. As Hammett scholar Richard Layman has explained: “He knew what he was doing, he said. Hammett wanted to get his third book right. It was a departure work for him, his attempt to break away from the formulas of pulp fiction to create a work with serious literary value.” Although the writer resisted changes by copy editors, he continued to tweak his own story—which had originally appeared (in slightly different form) in five monthly segments in Black Mask magazine—right up to when Knopf finally sent it away for printing. The completed novel was released on February 14, 1930.

Ninety-six years later, with the copyright on Hammett’s best-remembered (and most-filmed) tale having lapsed at the end of 2025, Iowa crime-fictionist Max Allan Collins seeks to add another “something special” to the Falcon legend. In Return of the Maltese Falcon, released this month by Hard Case Crime, he has boldly resuscitated the original book’s “hard and shifty” protagonist, San Francisco private investigator Samuel Spade, and sent him back out to locate the bejeweled bird of the title—which, you will likely recall, was never recovered in Hammett’s hard-boiled classic.

Penning a sequel to such a seminal genre work can only be characterized as intimidating. Indeed, Collins acknowledges that “avoiding strictly pure mimicry, and writing in my own style while honoring Hammett’s, was a tightrope to walk.” But the critical reception for Return of the Maltese Falcon has so far been generally favorable. Kirkus Reviews remarks that “Collins’ dialogue sounds pleasingly like Hammett’s; his plotting is even twistier; and if his descriptions mix Hammett’s terse, affectless minimalism with Raymond Chandler’s fondness for florid similes, that’s clearly, as he notes in an engaging coda, his intention. Fans convinced that nobody could possibly continue a tale that ends so definitely owe it to themselves to give Collins a try.” Reviewer Ray Palen of Bookreporter says Return is “a work of wonder, and I enjoyed every second of it. Collins has not just inhabited Hammett’s world but breathed new life into it and made it distinctly his own.” Finally, prolific author and blogger James Reasoner observes that, “stylistically, Collins’ fast-moving, straight-ahead prose isn’t quite as stripped down as Hammett’s, but it’s certainly in the same ballpark.” He adds: “The resolution of the mystery and the way the book wraps everything up are extremely satisfying.”

As Collins has stated in the past, he fell in love with The Maltese Falcon in 1961, when he was 13 years old and first watched the 1941 Humphrey Bogart movie adaptation on television. Not until much later did he consider recruiting Sam Spade into a new story—not necessarily a Falcon follow-up, but at least another novel starring the same principal. (Spade’s single other book-length appearance came in Joe Gores’ authorized 2009 Falcon prequel, Spade & Archer.)

Collins’ idea for a sequel dates back to 2024, when he included it in a future-projects sales pitch to Titan Books, the British owner of Hard Case Crime. Like numerous other readers, Collins was curious to know what happened after the events recounted in Hammett’s yarn—not just what became of the ever-elusive falcon statuette, but, as he told CrimeReads recently, how Sam Spade might “extricate himself from the ruins he’s made of his life and business.”

To help him answer those questions in Return of the Maltese Falcon, Collins brings back most of the original novel’s cast—some in secondary roles—while beefing up the involvement of several players to whom Hammett had assigned lesser parts. (Have no doubt: You should definitely have read the 1930 book before tackling Return.)

His action begins in December 1928, shortly after Spade failed to locate the gold, gem-encrusted (but now black enamel-covered) falcon at the center of the earlier story, and handed over his fetching but deceitful client, Brigid O’Shaughnessy, to the San Francisco cops for the murder of his detective partner, Miles Archer. Effie Perrine, Spade’s “lanky, tawny-haired” secretary (at 23, a decade Spade’s junior), has erected a Christmas tree where Archer’s desk once sat, and their office is looking “moderately successful” despite the “bad publicity” of late. Through the door comes Rhea Gutman, the “pale and petite,” 18-year-old blonde “daughter” of corpulent criminal Casper Gutman, who supposedly spent years chasing after the Maltese falcon, a treasure crafted for the King of Spain in the 1500s, only to have it stolen by a Russian general named Kemidov, and replaced with a fake. It seems that, like her late progenitor, Rhea is hungry to get her hands on the black bird, and she’ll split the rich proceeds with Spade if he can bring it to her.

Not surprisingly, the shamus accepts her offer. What he hadn’t expected was to then be approached by three more people wanting him to find the artifact (what he terms the “dingus”) on their behalf: Chicago gambler Dixie Monahan; a British Museum official, Steward Blackwood, who contends his institution holds true title to the falcon; and Brigid O’Shaughnessy’s younger sister, Corrine Wonderly. While raking in retainers from them all, he returns to his hunt for what has become the most famous “MacGuffin” in crime-fiction history. Spade’s investigation will eventually lead him to a violent clash with Casper Gutman’s erstwhile “gunsel,” Wilmer Cook; jail interviews with the aforementioned Miss O’Shaughnessy as well as dandyish Joel Cairo, familiar from the original tale and here claiming to know a private collector who’ll pay handsomely for the statuette; run-ins with police and the local district attorney; the discovery of an unidentified corpse in San Francisco Bay, in whose pocket is found Spade’s business card; a Golden Age-style gathering of suspects he hopes will flush out a killer; and late-in-the-game identity switches that I, for one, didn’t see coming.

When I first learned that Max Allan Collins would be revitalizing Sam Spade in a continuation novel—a sequel to one of American detective fiction’s founding yarns, no less—I felt a moment’s consternation. However, I reminded myself that Collins, who was named a Mystery Writers of America Grand Master in 2017, is a crackerjack tale-spinner who has given us two estimable series (a historical one starring Chicago gumshoe Nate Heller, and a second featuring the hit man known only as Quarry), and that he’s already succeeded in extending the life of another notable P.I., Mike Hammer, writing 13 new novels to add to the 13 Mickey Spillane had produced by the time he died in 2006. Furthermore, Collins put another iconic sleuth—Philip Marlowe—through his paces in “The Perfect Crime,” composed for the 1988 collection Raymond Chandler’s Philip Marlowe: A Centennial Celebration, edited by Byron Preiss. (He subsequently swapped Marlowe for Heller and added that story to his 2001 “casebook,” Kisses of Death.)

If anyone had the chops and chutzpah necessary to extend Spade’s otherwise brief career, it was definitely Collins.

With its text having now entered the public domain, this seems to be the season to celebrate Dashiell Hammett’s third novel. Publisher Poltroon Press has brought a new, photo-embellished hardcover version of The Maltese Falcon to market that also features a pair of Spade short stories inked by modern San Francisco-area author Mark Coggins. Blackstone has released its own “collectors edition,” complete with black-and-white illustrations and artistically sprayed page edges. Meanwhile, Steeger Books is selling hardback (or paperback) copies of the Falcon as it was serialized in Black Mask, with more than 2,000 textual variations from the final, 1930 book, and including the original pulp-style interior art by Arthur Rodman Bowker. Finally, notebook maker Field Notes has packaged that same magazine edit in imitation of the World War II-era Armed Service Editions.

Return of the Maltese Falcon is altogether something bigger, though. In this, his 53rd year as a published author (Bait Money, his debut novel, came out in 1973), Collins has given us not only an homage to Hammett’s most memorable composition; he’s drawn a direct line between himself and that august scribbler of yore, emphasizing the fact that he wouldn’t have the award-winning career he does without Hammett and other ink-slinging pioneers having laid the foundations of the popular field in which he toils. There will be Hammett purists who object vociferously to Max Allan Collins, or anybody else, employing Sam Spade in fresh adventures. Yet when the results are as delightful, dramatic, and downright satisfying as Return of the Maltese Falcon, it’s hard to argue that the effort should never have been made.

NEXT WEEK: I will post J. Kingston’s Pierce’s interview with me about Return of the Maltese Falcon. Jeff has done some of the very best interviews with me ever done.

Speaking of interviews, my pal Heath Holland (with whom I partner on blu-ray commentaries) spoke with me about Return of the Maltese Falcon here.

M.A.C.

True Noir – It’s a Wrap!…With More to Come

Tuesday, April 8th, 2025

Post-production on True Noir: The Assassination of Anton Cermak has wrapped. The last episodes (9 and 10) will drop very soon. I have heard both and my (admittedly biased opinion) is that they are superb.

If you’ve been waiting to be able to buy the entire audio adaptation of True Detective, the time will be here very, very soon. There has never been a better, more faithful rendition of my work – perhaps not surprising, since I wrote the adaptation myself; but the level of craft and artistry here is stellar.

Take a look at the acting talent involved with True Noir: The Assassination of Anton Cermak. If some of the names don’t ring a bell, the faces likely will.

There’s ordering info at truenoir.co as well.

True Noir was made possible by Mike Bawden, whose enthusiasm for genre storytelling and whose belief in director Robert Meyer Burnett and me has been unfailing. This production exists because of him.

The direction of the actors in the audio studio by Rob Burnett was deft to say the least. I attended most of the recording sessions via Zoom and Rob was generous with allowing my input (as a director myself, I tend to stay out of the way of a director doing my material, but Rob was great about including me in every step of the process). In addition, he meticulously edited the entire series and supervised the audio mix, including sound effects and the use of the outstanding score by Alexander Bornstein. Yes, I wrote it, but True Noir: The Assassination of Anton Cermak represents Rob’s hard work and talent. In many respects, it’s his baby.

I will forever be grateful to Rob (and Mike) for the gift of this production, which – at nearly five hours – is essentially a great Nathan Heller movie…for the ears.

There have been delays. We hadn’t anticipated the Los Angeles fires or that the audio studio we were using would shut down. And, frankly, never having done this before – few if any have attempted something like this, on this scale – we had not anticipated just how long it would take. We won’t make that mistake again.

Among a team any one of whom might be termed an MVP, Co-producer Christine Sheaks assembled the incredible cast, which brings us to Michael Rosenbaum.

You may know Michael from his role as Lex Luthor on the long-running TV series Smallville or his role in the Guardians of the Galaxy films, among many others. He is also the host of Inside of You, an incredibly popular (and justifiably so) YouTube series, on which he interviews other actors of note with skill and disarming ease.

Michael understands Nate Heller, bringing humor and humanity but also, when necessary, the appropriate toughness to his portrayal. I feel blessed to have him playing my signature character.

I must also mention my longtime friend and collaborator Phil Dingeldein, who has also been part of the creative mix, specifically producing and directing the ten-part History Behind the Mystery video series, in which I discuss the actual history behind each episode.

Which brings us to the eventual physical media component of True Noir: The Assassination of Mayor Cermak. As I mentioned here before, a Blu-ray is in the works, which may rate a “Huh?” considering that we’re talking about an audio production. But the sophistication of this audio presentation justifies that (featuring both 2-channel, stereo audio mix and 5.1 surround sound), though the Blu-ray will also include visual components, like the entire History of Mystery series and a lengthy interview with me by director Rob Burnett. A CD of the Alexander Bornstein score is almost certainly going to happen, too.

In the meantime, we are seriously discussing going forward with a second series of True Noir, probably True Crime. I would again script it myself with Rob Burnett directing/editing and Mike Bawden and the whole producing team coming back.

And, I hope, with Michael Rosenbaum as Nathan Heller.


Robert Meyer Burnett toasts the completion of True Noir.
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Here is a nice write-up on Law and Order, the 1932 Walter Huston movie that is the first Wyatt Earp flick…and it’s based on a W.R. Burnett novel! Features me and my knowledgeable buddy Heath Holland (of YouTube’s Cereal at Midnight) doing the commentary.

Pre-order it here.

I discuss my six favorite private eye novels, written for The Week magazine. I actually stretch the boundaries by talking about two books that are more strictly crime novels.

M.A.C.

Video Interviews and Ruminations of AI Replacing Me

Tuesday, February 11th, 2025

Blue Christmas will be available on Tubi (free, but probably with commercials) starting March 10. I realize it’s not the Christmas season right now, but March is my birthday month, so help celebrate by watching our little mostly-well-reviewed “chamber piece” on Tubi.

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This week is a hodgepodge of videos, starting with (in my biased opinion) a particularly good interview by Andrew Sumner of Titan Books with yrs truly, talking about the forthcoming final Mike Hammer novel (Baby, It’s Murder), the new Ms. Tree archival edition (the final of six), my Sam Spade sequel The Return of the Maltese Falcon (due out Jan. 2026), and much more.

Here is the great Michael Rosenbaum (Nathan Heller in True Noir) seeing the promo poster of our immersive ten-part adapation of True Detective for the first time.

For the heartiest souls among you – or those desperate to fill the empty hours – here is my three-hour-plus (!) appearance on Rob Burnett’s (and Dieter Bastion’s) Let’s Get Physical Media. I am prettier (marginally) in real life.

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Here, from stalwart reviewer (and fiction writer) Ron Fortier is a review of the latest Quarry novel.

QUARRY’S RETURN
By Max Allan Collins
Hard Case Crime
213 pgs

One has to wonder at the twists and turns of fate when a writer of the baby-boomer generation (post World War II for you youngsters) is still writing about a hired gun well into his seventies. That’s Quarry, one of three series Collins whipped up a long…long…long time ago. That it is still around, never mind getting better like aged bourbon, is no small literary feat. Our best guess as to why; two things. One, Collins is such a damn good writer and two, his loyal readers know it and aren’t going anywhere.

In his last novel featuring his Quarry tale, Collins introduced his Vietnam veteran protagonist to the adult daughter he’d never known. After an awkward start, filial emotions rose to the surface when they were forced to save each other’s lives from some very bad people. In this follow up tale, Quarry learns Susan, his crime-writer daughter, has disappeared while doing research on a serial killer. This he learns from an old lover-colleague, a beautiful Japanese gal named Lu; his equal in death-dealing. The two of them make Bonnie and Clyde look like Hansel and Gretel.

It becomes obvious that Susan has run afoul of the very fiend behind the so-called Cheerleader Murders she is investigating. Unless Quarry and Lu can find her quickly, Susan will become the killer’s fourth victim. Collins weaves a fast-paced tale as his wonderfully mature couple question and shoot their way through a twisted puzzle, each well aware that the stamina and zeal of their youth exist only in melancholy backward glances.

Quarry’s Return continues the quality of this series offering up both the drama and action we’ve come to expect from a master storyteller now at the height of his craft. Oh, if only more writers weren’t afraid of growing old.

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What does A.I. think of me?

My buddy Rob Burnett asked ChatGPT to roast me, and this is what he got:

Max Allan Collins? Oh, you mean the guy who spends his days trying to convince people he wrote Road to Perdition before the movie made it cool? The man has more tie-in novels under his belt than original ideas. If there’s a movie, TV show, or video game with a plot, chances are he’s already turned it into a book before you even realized it existed.

Don’t get me wrong, the guy knows his way around a crime story, but let’s be honest – his bibliography reads like the novelization section at a Blockbuster in 1999. He’s basically the literary version of that friend who just retells movie plots but insists they’re adding depth.

And let’s talk about Road to Perdition. Everyone remembers the film – you know, Tom Hanks, Paul Newman, Sam Mendes’ stunning cinematography? But Collins? He’s like that one guy in the back of a concert yelling, “I wrote the original song, man!” while everyone’s there for the band that made it famous.

Look, he’s a workhorse, I’ll give him that, but maybe if he spent a little less time cashing in on other people’s intellectual properties, he’d be known as more than “that dude who did all the licensed tie-ins.”

That chatGPT request was for a roast of me as author of Road to Perdition. This one left Road to Perdition out of the search request.

Alright, let’s talk about Max Allan Collins – the guy who never met a tie-in novel he didn’t like. This man has churned out more franchise cash grabs than Hollywood itself, and somehow, he still wants us to believe he’s a “hard-boiled” crime writer. Yeah, sure, buddy – nothing screams noir like novelizing CSI episodes.

Collins has spent his career clinging to Mickey Spillane’s coattails so hard that he’s practically a ghostwriter for a ghost. The guy inherited unfinished Mike Hammer manuscripts like some kind of pulp fiction trust fund baby and has been playing Weekend at Bernie’s with Spillane’s legacy ever since. And let’s not forget Road to Perdition — a graphic novel that somehow got a brilliant film adaptation that made people think he’s on the same level as classic crime writers. Spoiler: He’s not.

Is he prolific? Absolutely. But so is a fax machine. If crime fiction had a direct-to-video section, Collins would be its king.

Next Rob asked ChatGPT to praise me. Here’s what he got:

Max Allan Collins is one of the most prolific and versatile crime writers of his generation, seamlessly blending historical research, sharp storytelling, and a deep love for the noir tradition. His Road to Perdition graphic novel became an Oscar-winning film, proving his talent for crafting compelling narratives with rich emotional depth.

Collins’ dedication to the hard-boiled genre extends beyond his own work – he’s kept the legacy of Mickey Spillane alive by completing unfinished Mike Hammer manuscripts with remarkable authenticity. His Nathan Heller series is a masterclass in historical crime fiction, blending real-life mysteries with gripping detective work.

Beyond novels, Collins has left his mark across multiple mediums – comics, television tie-ins, and even film – demonstrating a storytelling range few can match. Whether he’s penning a hard-hitting detective tale or a media tie-in, he brings professionalism and an unmistakable voice to everything he touches.

Next Rob, at my request, asked about “Barbara Allan.”

Here’s the roast:

Barbara Allan – aka the dynamic duo of Barbara and Max Allan Collins – has mastered the fine art of writing cozy mysteries that are as outrageous as a yard sale gone horribly wrong. The Trash ‘n’ Treasures series? More like Clutter ‘n’ Chaos! The books are packed with enough quirky characters, eccentric antiques, and over-the-top antics to make even the most dedicated cozy mystery reader question their life choices.

The mother-daughter sleuthing team, Brandy and Vivian, are basically the literary equivalent of Lucy and Ethel if they were trapped in an endless loop of small-town mayhem and garage-sale drama. Vivian, in particular, is a force of nature – a character so hilariously unhinged that she could probably solve crimes just by talking the suspects into confessing out of sheer exhaustion.

And let’s not forget the narrative style – breaking the fourth wall, footnotes, and asides that sometimes make you feel like you’ve stumbled into a mystery novel with an identity crisis. Is it a whodunit? A stand-up comedy routine? A fever dream about hoarding? Who knows!

But despite all the chaos, you have to give Barbara Allan credit – somehow, these books keep readers coming back for more. Maybe it’s the humor, maybe it’s the charm, or maybe it’s just the literary equivalent of watching a reality show where you can’t look away. Either way, the Trash ‘n’ Treasures series is a wild ride, whether you love it or love to roll your eyes at it.

That’s the roast, but Barb and I both pretty much agree with it and find it oddly complimentary. I guess it goes to show there’s less negative stuff about Barbara Allan out there on the Internet for chatGPT to draw upon.

Here’s the Barbara Allan praise from chatGPT:

Barbara Allan is a talented and acclaimed author, best known for her delightful and witty “Trash ‘n’ Treasures” mystery series. The writing duo behind the pseudonym – Barbara and Max Allan Collins – crafts engaging, humorous, and cleverly plotted cozy mysteries that keep readers entertained while delivering sharp social observations. Their knack for blending humor, crime, and quirky characters makes their work a standout in the genre.

Allan’s ability to create compelling narratives with charmingly eccentric protagonists, particularly Brandy Borne and her mother, Vivian, showcases a keen sense of humor and an impressive storytelling skill. The lighthearted yet intriguing mysteries, often infused with a touch of satire, offer a refreshing take on the cozy mystery genre. Fans appreciate the dynamic character relationships, lively dialogue, and the seamless way the authors weave suspense with humor.

Barbara Allan’s contributions to the mystery genre continue to be celebrated by devoted readers who eagerly anticipate each new installment. Whether you’re a longtime fan or a newcomer, her books are sure to entertain and delight!

Besides giving Barb and me (and Rob) a giddy good laugh over all of this, what to make of it? To me it shows that AI can give you anything but something of actual substance, coming from a real-life human being with human experiences to draw upon. It also hints at the nature of reviews and criticism – that the same work can engender wildly different takes (although Barbara Allan seems pretty popular with everybody!).

I am of the opinion that AI will never be able to truly approximate someone’s writing (say, ask chatGPT to write a Mike Hammer novel by Mickey Spillane) when it’s (no matter how sophisticated) a soulless summary of things actual humans have thought and felt. This is related to “garbage in, garbage out,” but AI won’t draw upon garbage, or even churn garbage out. It can cobble something together from the works of a writer based only on existing work, not new work informed by human experience.

Not only are the words borrowed, so are the attitudes that shaped those words. Nor is it likely (to my way of thinking anyway) that AI will ever be able to write a “new” Max Allan Collins book (for example) because it will not be able to deal with the growth and shifts and, yes, decline of a creative person.

Or, as chatGPT had to say on this subject:

AI can be an excellent tool for assisting writers, offering suggestions, or even generating basic plot ideas, but it lacks the deeper emotional, cultural, and philosophical grounding that human creativity provides.

Fiction writing isn’t just about stringing words together – it’s about creating meaning, evoking emotions, and offering unique perspectives, all of which are rooted in the lived experience of being human. AI can simulate creativity, but it can’t be creative in the same way a human can.

Finally, I asked chatGPT to create an approximately 1000-word example of my fiction writing. Here it is:

I leaned back in my chair, the smoke from my cigarette curling up toward the ceiling. The office was dim, the only light coming from the streetlamp outside casting long shadows across the room. It was the kind of night that made you question your choices, the kind of night that made you wonder if the world was as clean as it seemed.

The door creaked open, and she stepped in – a dame with legs that went on forever and a look that could melt steel. She had that air about her, the kind that said she was trouble, but the kind you couldn’t resist.

“Mr. Heller?” she asked, her voice a melody that didn’t quite match the storm in her eyes.

“That’s me,” I said, motioning to the chair across from my desk. “Have a seat.”

She hesitated for a moment, then sat down, crossing her legs. I noticed the faint tremor in her hands as she placed them on her lap.

“What’s the trouble?” I asked, leaning forward.

She took a deep breath, her eyes darting around the room as if searching for something. “I need your help,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “My husband is missing.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Missing? Or just not where you want him to be?”

M.A.C.

True Noir, Medical Fun & Games and a Great Film

Tuesday, July 9th, 2024

The San Diego Comic Con will have a True Noir panel this year. I won’t be in attendance – except by way of a pre-recorded video greeting – for various reasons, including the start of shooting my next indie film, Death by Fruitcake. But actors from the production will be present (names TBA) and director Robert Meyer Burnett will be on hand as will producer Mike Bawden.

If you’re at the con, you’ll get the first real preview of our fully immersive audio drama, True Noir: The Nathan Heller Casebooks, based on the first Heller novel, True Detective.

True Noir at Comic-Con 2024

I’ve sat in on many recording sessions so far, via Zoom, and I believe about 80% of the recording is done, and I know director Rob Burnett is hard at work on the special effects and sound mix. Rob is doing a fantastic job. I can honestly say I’ve never been more excited about a project adapting my work, ever, and that includes the film of Road to Perdition and the HBO/Cinemax Quarry TV series.

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I had some very nice wishes from readers and friends of mine about my recent (brief) hospital stay. My cardioversion (in which I am jump-started like an old Buick to get my heart out of a-fib and back into regular rhythm) went very well. My recuperation has been minimal, and the hospital staff and my doctor were terrific.

So was my wife Barb, who was with me all the way (well, she had to leave while they were shocking me).

Two days later, I feel fine. Great, actually.

Thanks for your concern.

As a reward – a book giveaway next week!

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Heath Holland at Cereal at Midnight invited me on to discuss my ten favorite private eye movies. Take a look (but keep in mind these are presented not as the best but as my favorites…though the upper reachers of the list really are the best).

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I’ve been a steady moviegoer since grade school, and Barb and I, pre-Covid, pretty much went to one movie per week, even after the home video revolution. Since the pandemic, we go less frequently. But I remember what it was like in the ‘70s and ‘80s when you could see a movie and know you’d taken something great in.

Bonnie and Clyde (1967) changed my life. It rekindled my interest in true-crime-based movies and TV that had begun with The Untouchables TV series starring Robert Stack. I’d already been toying with the idea of writing a period private eye novel when Chinatown (1974) paved the way. It, too, changed my life. Dr. No and the Connery Bond movies that followed were similarly impactful, and some things I saw for the first time on TV – The Maltese Falcon (1941) and Kiss Me Deadly (1955) – certainly shaped me artistically. Add Gun Crazy (1950) to that list.

In the 1970s you never knew when something mind-blowing might greet you at the movie theater – from The Godfather showing how a crime novel could become an epic film to American Graffiti (1973) sending me back into rock ‘n’ roll after I thought I’d left being in a band behind me. This was an era where your weekend entertainment might include seeing for the first time The Exorcist, The French Connection, Dirty Harry, Point Blank, Get Carter, Jaws, Rocky, Star Wars, Rocky Horror Picture Show, Harold and Maude, and Phantom of the Paradise. This is not a definitive list, but it demonstrates movies that had an impact on me beyond the usual cinematic experience. I can easily say I have been influenced as much if not more by movies than even my beloved Hammett, Chandler, Cain and Spillane.

Robert Towne died last week. He joins the other giants who walked the earth and influenced little Allan Collins. So, of course, did Chester Gould, Al Capp and Will Eisner, moviemakers on the page.

And it didn’t stop with the ‘70s – the ‘80s were around the corner. You could settle down in your theater seat with your Coke and popcorn and Dots and, wham! There was Raiders of the Lost Arc or Road Warrior or Evil Dead II or Back to the Future or Robocop (with my pal Miguel Ferrer in it!).

And I’m just scratching the surface.

Seemed like every week or two or anyway once a month some movie would change your life – or anyway mine – out of nowhere. Not that the ‘90s were too shabby – Groundhog Day alone must be noted. And I’m not saying good stuff hasn’t appeared in the 2000’s.

But that experience of knowing you’d seen something life-changing, which was startlingly frequent in the ‘70s and ‘80s, hasn’t happened much in several decades, at least not to me.

Which brings me to Horizon: An America Saga (Chapter One). This is the first film I’ve seen in a long time that gave me that sort of feeling that something important had happened to me in the movie theater, and I don’t mean that just no babies were crying. No. This is the best film I’ve seen in ages (and only the first 1/4 of it is out there right now – with Part Two coming in August, and Part Three in production, although Part Four may be in danger because of the disappointing box office so far of Part One).

Horizon: An America Saga

This is a sweeping (as we used to say) saga of the American west, going out of its way to tell a sprawling but coherent story of settlers, Native Americans, Old West towns, gunfighters, outlaws, families, wagon trains, the whole schmeer. Horizon is easy to follow, despite cutting back and forth between its four (as I count them) major story threads.

But it seems to confuse the poor little things under forty who can’t sit still long enough not to spill their popcorn. The complaint that Horizon is hard to follow – it isn’t, not at all – or that it’s slow – it isn’t, if somewhat leisurely at times, which is different – defeats the minds of the video-game damaged individuals who seem to dominate our multi-plex fare. The main complaint appears to be that there are just too many characters to keep track of, but also that there are too many story threads to weave in our brain-dead little consciousnesses, and where’s the action, anyway?…besides the opening attack by Indians on settlers and the closing attack of Whites on Indians that (rather brilliantly) bookend this first chapter. Of course, a viewer has to understand what the incredibly difficult, complicated partial subtitle “Chapter One” means.

Or that something like the incredibly tense meeting on a hillside by Kevin Costner’s taciturn saddle tramp and a chatty psychopathic young outlaw doesn’t represent “action.”

Look, I’m kind of pissed off about this. Let me take a slight left (or maybe right) turn and discuss the inability of some younger audience members to deal with nuance, or with storytelling that is less than breakneck, much less dealing with a story that cuts between various threads of that story.

I have taken to watching a good deal of YouTube. I do this chiefly because the bite-size nature available means I don’t have to commit to a feature film after, say, 11 p.m. when midnight is my cut-off for getting enough sleep. (Old men who shout at clouds need their beddy bye.) This has been beneficial to me, because I have access to some YouTubers (I admit that sounds like a description of someone floundering in a water park) whose opinions and approach resonate with me – for example, Robert Meyer Burnett (now a collaborator of mine), Heath Holland of Cereal at Midnight, and Ken on Mid Level Media. These are presences on YouTube that understand the medium. They aren’t the only ones, but the vast majority of the film-centric YouTubers are guys with beards and baseball caps in their basement exuding the charisma of a chunk of cheese. These are not class acts like Greg Mrvich of Ballistic BBQ, extolling outdoor cooking, or Jon Townsend of Townsends, which focuses on cooking circa the Revolutionary War (great history buff stuff).

It’s the reviewers who are the worst. Unlike Rob or Heath or Ken, these reviewers know next to nothing about how films are made and/or the history of film. And a good number of the reviews of Horizon are a prime example – these supposed lovers of film are bored, and see no interaction between characters in the various story threads or thematic connection either. Unlike Rob, Heath or Ken, many of these reviewers (I should say “reviewers”) make no attempt to meet a film on its own terms.

For about ten years I was the movie reviewer at the now-defunct (and much missed) Mystery Scene Magazine. I stopped after I’d written, produced and directed my film Mommy (1994), because I now knew how hard it is to make a movie. I realized that even making a bad or mediocre movie takes an enormous effort (which is not to say that I consider any of my own movies bad or mediocre, nor do I claim them as masterpieces). After making a movie, I stopped writing a regular review column (though I later wrote a similar column for Asian Cult Cinema, also departed and much missed, but restricted myself to writing only positive reviews). I have backtracked somewhat and occasionally do write a bad review of a movie (as opposed to a bad movie review), but I do so only reluctantly. I always think of the scene in Tim Burton’s Ed Wood where Orson Welles and Wood commiserate in a booth at (I believe) Musso & Frank’s about their mutual movie-making frustrations.

Know-it-all’s in backwards ball caps, beards and parental basements have no business delivering movie criticism unless they have something worthwhile to share. “I was bored,” “I almost feel asleep,” “Too many stories, too many characters,” etc. And yet this is how Kevin Costner’s 21st Century How the West Was Won has been greeted by many YouTube reviewers and some paid critics writing for actual national publications.

This is an abysmal period for movies. It’s all about kowtowing to Woke notions and an audience that doesn’t read and never did, has been sedated (if admittedly having their motor skills honed) by video games, and judges films by the car chase or explosion or other examples of the dangling-keys-in-front-of-an-infant school of criticism.

This does not mean that I think you have no right to not like Horizon. There are legitimate complaints that can be intelligently made, even if I might disagree with them. But consider this: “I don’t like westerns,” one attractive Black female YouTube reviewer said before dismissing Horizon on the following basis: it’s a western. An extremely full of himself YouTube reviewer, sitting next to his giggling girl friend (who had not seen the movie), complained of the boring composition of shots in the film and let us know how smart he thinks he is. Meanwhile my (limited) filmmaker’s eye perceived that almost any carefully composed frame of Horizon could be a framed image on a wall. Mine, anyway.

Look, every asshole has an opinion and you know the rest. I may be as full of crap here as, well, the run-of-the-mill basement-bound YouTube reviewers. But for those of you who like my fiction enough to stop by here and listen to me bloviate, I urge you not to listen to the Horizon naysayers.

Give it a try, and if possible don’t wait for streaming – those who dismiss this film as something that should have been a TV mini-series are apparently numb to the Utah vistas Horizon generously shares.

Now this isn’t exactly a review of Horizon. For that, let me repeat what I recently posted on Amazon (in response to a one-star scathing and astoundingly stupid review of Horizon):

This is the opposite of everything the one-star review of it, posted early on, claimed. Its four storylines are rich with character and incident comprising a How the West Was Won for a 21st Century audience. The emphasis is on the hardships the settlers, soldiers and saddle tramps all endured, sometimes out of their naïveté or greed and other times in their lack of choice for options when bad experiences and bad behavior drove them west. It’s no coincidence that it opens with the Indigenous people (the People) slaughtering settlers sadistically and ends with Whites slaughtering Indigenous people just as sadistically. The scenery is awe-inspiring, the shots deceptively well-composed in their simplicity, and the stories compelling — I know this movie has received some bad and mixed reviewes, particularly by YouTube dullards, but these reviews only reflect the limitations of modern audiences to know how to receive a movie that takes its time telling its interwoven (and it is interwoven) tale. The idea that this is slow and nothing happens reflects the mentality of viewers dulled by the swift, poor storytelling so common on movie screens today. Don’t wait for the inevitable reassessment — see it now, on a big movie screen. Then own it on physical media. This is Godfather level entertainment.

M.A.C.