Posts Tagged ‘Road to Perdition’

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?

* * *

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.

Sam Spade and Me

Tuesday, June 9th, 2026

This week, or at the latest next, I will likely complete Prey for the Maltese Falcon, my follow-up to Return of the Maltese Falcon. It takes place in 1939 and posits what Sam Spade might have been up to around ten years later.

It’s an honor, and frankly a relief, to have had Return so warmly received. My wife Barb warned me I was really sticking my neck out this time – who was I to be writing a sequel to what many (including me) consider the best the best tough mystery novel ever written – the book that can be viewed as the paradigm for the entire sub-genre of the private eye novel?

I tried to answer that by respecting Dashiell Hammett and his creation, and honoring him with something more than just a pastiche. Readers coming to the book will always have to judge that for themselves.

A perhaps more interesting question is: why had I been thinking about doing a sequel to The Maltese Falcon for something like twenty years? When the novel was decades away from going into the public domain, making any such effort even possible? Prior to the novel gaining public domain status, I thought it highly unlikely the Hammett estate would come to me for the job.

Sam Spade got on my little-kid radar by way of advertisements in comic-strip form that appeared in Sunday newspapers and occasionally comic books. My discovering those strips was in the mid-1950s and even then those ads/comics were old news – literally, old newspapers and comic books that had somehow gotten into my grubby little hands (and psyche).

It was common for advertisements in the Sunday funnies to disguise themselves as just another comic strip, or a page of comics in a comic. Sometimes such strips invented their own recurring characters, the better to fool readers into thinking they weren’t reading an ad at all (particularly kids). Sometimes advertisers went so far as to license existing comics characters to hawk their goods – famously, Al Capp’s Li’l Abner (for Cream of Wheat) and Fearless Fosdick (for Wildroot Cream-Oil) appeared in mini-comics in the pages of slick magazines like Look and The Saturday Evening Post, as well as comic books and Sunday comics sections.

Like Fosdick, Sam Spade appeared on behalf of Wild Root Cream-Oil (a hair tonic) in a strip called The Adventures of Sam Spade, tying in with a popular radio show of that name starring Howard Duff. The strip took up a lot of real estate in the funnies – a half- or even full-page – and each was a short mystery, solved usually in a way that (you’re ahead of me) had to do with Wild Root Cream-Oil.

They were lively strips, many of them beautifully drawn by Golden Age comics great, Lou Fine, a Will Eisner crony. Over a three-year period, at least 25 strips were published. This link will take you to some nice examples.

Because of these strips, I knew about the Sam Spade radio show, but missed out on those, because The Adventures of Sam Spade aired before my time, from 1946 to 1951 (on NBC). The series was enormously popular and made a star out of Howard Duff, who graduated to movies (and later TV) but never was as big a star as he’d been in radio. Another popular radio series, Suspense, did two episodes with Duff as Spade, one of which (“The Kandy Tooth Caper”) was a 60-minute sequel to The Maltese Falcon.


Howard Duff as Sam Spade

The series was a spoofy take on the genre not at all in keeping with Hammett’s original approach, but its success having almost as much to do with establishing Sam Spade as the iconic private eye character (maybe the ironic private eye character) as Bogart’s Spade had with the John Huston classic film.

The series might have lasted longer, and perhaps made the transition to TV, but the anti-Communist witch-hunt led to creator Dashiell Hammett, known for his association with left-wing causes, becoming a ripe target for Senator Joe McCarthy. Hammett, who had served his country in two wars, even did hard time when he refused to name names in the HUAC hearings. McCarthy’s odious assistant Roy Cohn even tried to have Hammett’s five novels banned from U.S. Information Service (USIS) overseas libraries. Cohn failed when Hammett fan, President Dwight D. Eisenhower, intervened.

In the witch hunt’s wake, the radio show was re-tooled as Charlie Wild, Private Detective (1951), with a new detective taking Spade’s place, although secretary Effie Perine stayed on board; the radio series didn’t last long, although it did make a shaky transition to TV (1950-1952). Effie came along (the setting now New York) played by young Iowa gal Cloris Leachman (later picked up by Mike Hammer at the start of the film Kiss Me Deadly).

I’m not sure when it was that I first saw the Bogart/Huston Maltese Falcon. I vaguely remember faking a stomach ache so I could stay home from church and see it on the Sunday Morning Movie. I loved it, of course. The likes of the Saint and Sherlock Holmes, two of my previous obsessions, couldn’t hold a candle to Bogie’s Sam.

Finally I caught up with the original Sam Spade in the Permabooks 35-cent edition of The Maltese Falcon with a great cover by Harry Bennett (a very ‘60s rendition of Brigid, Wilmer and Caspar Gutman). And at some point I discovered a Dell paperback of A Man Called Spade, with the three Hammett-published Spade short stories.

In my teens I was inhaling all the Hammett I could find, usually in ill-lit old secondhand bookstores; same with Raymond Chandler and Mickey Spillane – the Big Three, as far as I was concerned (and still am).

Periodically I discovered other Spade oddities, like the 1946 David McKay “Feature Book” adaptation of The Maltese Falcon in comic-book form, with funky art by Rodlow Willard; and one or two of the record albums of the several Falcon radio adaptations starring Bogart and other original cast members.

As I mentioned elsewhere, I have never watched an episode of the AMC series, Monsieur Spade, not wanting to be influenced; and I have not revisited Spade & Archer by the late Joe Gores. I frankly recall not being taken with it, and thinking I’d like to have a crack at the character myself someday (though I am otherwise a Gores fan).

It’s clear that Hammett did something very special in The Maltese Falcon, and a lot of it was Sam Spade, who despite appearing in one novel remains for many of us the quintessential private eye. The imprint of the author and his character on me was such that I could become intrigued with them both just by reading a comic strip advertising hair oil tonic.

* * *

Guess what movie is considered one of the best Irish mob movies ever?

M.A.C.

Comeback for Physical Media?

Tuesday, May 12th, 2026

I am writing this on Mother’s Day and want to give you a belated chance to celebrate (since this appears on the Tuesday after).

In keeping with that holiday, You can watch my movies Mommy and Mommy 2: Mommy’s Day on Prime (and elsewhere) right here:

Mommy

Mommy 2: Mommy’s Day

And you can visit mother-and-daughter sleuths, Vivian and Brandy Borne (from the Barbara Allan Antiques mystery novels by Barb and me) in our little movie Death By Fruitcake right here:

Death by Fruitcake

If you prefer to visit Mommy on physical media, try here (best price).

And Death by Fruitcake on DVD (no Blu-ray) is here – your support is MUCH appreciated!

* * *

Ted Turner died last week.

He created cable as we came to know it, and he created CNN and the 24-hour news cycle, and actually a lot more. I celebrate his dedication (through TCM) to making classic (and not so classic) films from the dawn of sound up.

He did not create streaming. I’m not sure anybody should have, at least not in the expensive, dishonest, frequently stupid way it has evolved. I don’t have to explain “expensive” – it’s the reason why following worthwhile shows on various streaming “services” is prohibitive for anyone but the wealthy.

I should explain “dishonest,” though – it’s the way we were sold a bill of goods that “everything” would be available to us at a click and we would no longer need physical media, like DVDs, Blu-rays and 4K discs. This has proven not only to be false but what is available (even after we’ve paid the monthly service charge) often includes a fee with no physical media attached. You can “buy” a movie this way, and “own” it, only to have it stripped away sooner or later without notice.

And I will explain “stupid” by way of the reality that streaming services are funding series and movies often well below the former standard of cable and even network TV. The drawback of network TV was always the limited channels; but the plus has been occasional shows of quality like classic Star Trek, Twilight Zone, Perry Mason and Seinfeld – which generated what used to be called “water cooler” talk.

Yes there are first-rate streaming series – as indicated, enough of them to make prohibitive signing onto a streaming service for its one or two good seriess. But quality shows happen only because talented people, not in need of guidance from a corporate daddy or mommy, can create a Sopranos or Breaking Bad or Curb Your Enthusiasm.

Give streaming accidental credit for that much.

And I say “accidental” because the streaming services show no signs of telling good from bad, mediocre from excellent. A series like Apple’s Palm Royale with the great Kristin Wiig and Carole Burnett can begin well and sputter into unexpected embarrassment. That same service’s Hijack can have an excellent first season and a become a travesty of itself in the second. And if you can’t give Idris Elba something worthwhile to wrap his acting chops around, give up.

The missus and I often sit down of an evening to peruse the streaming possibilities from Netflix to HBOMax, from Apple to Peacock, and we’ve been to Hulu, Disney and Paramount Plus (among others) on our travels and through the associated travails. And what we end up doing, three out of four times at least, is turning to my substantial collection of physical media – where we know something will be worth re-watching, with the unwatched tempting enough for me to have laid money down for its individual promise.

I am part of Robert Meyer Burnett and Dieter Bastien’s Let’s Get Physical Media show which is on most Sunday afternoons (1 p.m. Central). There I discuss noir and noir adjacent releases, and Rob and Dieter focus mostly on science fiction, fantasy, horror and fun schlock (Dieter proudly self-describes as the Trash Panda). I’ll include a window on a recent episode – I show up an hour or so in for an hour so appearance, recommending Blu-ray and 4K releases. Occasionally DVDs, too.

The decline of physical media for movies and TV has created a collector class for whom the Let’s Get Physical Media show is designed. These are collectors after boxed sets of single and multiple releases, fancy editions with slip covers and tons of bonus featrues and assorted bells and whistles including books – and it’s not unusual for one of these limited releases to cost fifty bucks or more.

But on every episode it’s noted that, of new discs, DVD sales still rule, with Blu-ray lagging behind and the superior format, 4K, a virtual afterthought. And yet in recent months physical media is making a vinyl-like comeback. Best Buy and Barnes & Noble are still strong in sales of all three forms (most other brick-and-mortar stores dropped out of physical media sales of video a couple of years ago).

What’s interesting about the comeback of physical media is that it’s driven by two groups: those special edition collectors I mentioned; but also Gen Z buyers – a younger generation that has rejected the streaming era and is turning to…DVD.

It’s a good trend – young people building libraries reflecting their personal tastes. One aspect of the trend has these Z’ers – with less disposable income than some previous gens of kids – going to Goodwill and other second-hand stores and buying DVDs for a few bucks (or even one buck). These buyers are less concerned having the high def aspect (if at all), possibly because they are used to the small screens on their phones, and video that’s just okay is okay by them.

I’m going to stop short of saying, “Physical media is back, baby!” But it’s definitely a shifting scene.

* * *

My buddy, editor/publisher Charles Ardai has an in-depth Crime Reads interview here about Hard Case Crime (and I rate a mention or two).

The movie version of Road to Perdition gets included in this list of great mob movies. (Exciting Perdition news forthcoming.)

M.A.C.

Dashiell Hammett and the Short, Guttural Verb

Tuesday, March 31st, 2026

I caution the easily offended – and even those who are understandably offended – but what I have to say in today’s update will frequently contain a certain word that likely originated from Germanic or Old Norse languages (e.g., ficken, fokken), meaning “to strike,” “thrust,” or “move back and forth.” It has for centuries been a forbidden, rude word. And it’s going to appear throughout this little essay.

So buckle up, or fuck off.

I remember the first time I heard the word. It was during recess on the schoolyard – specifically Grant School here in Muscatine, Iowa, in the mid-1950s. It came from a particularly scruffy kid and I knew, from the glee with which it was spoken, that I had heard something special, and not in a good way. I inquired of a fellow classmate and was told, in no uncertain terms, that this word was one that could get a kid (scruffy or not) in a world of trouble.

By junior high (this was now the late fifties/early sixties), the word sneaked out from the locker-room lips of my fellow classmates. The first time I saw it in print was in the novelization of the original Ocean’s Eleven (1960). It startled me enough that I remember the specific instance and where I was at the time (study hall).

And I didn’t see it again in print for perhaps a year – possibly in a Harold Robbins novel. But I read a lot of sleaze in those days (and nights) and can assure you its appearances on the page was infrequent.

By high school, however, the word ran rampant. My group of guys had nicknames for each other that we found absolutely hilarious – of course one of us was Fuck-head, another Fuck-nose, yes Fuck-butt and the supremely offensive Fuck-shit, which had us in stitches. Hard to believe as it may be, I do not remember which “Fuck” designate I bore.

By high school graduation in 1966, “fuck” was damn near casual among my male crowd, and by community college and my U of Iowa days it was beyond common among all sexes. Athletes and hippies alike were sporting and snorting language that had begun creepy-crawling into the American vocabulary after soldiers came back from fighting WW2 overseas.

As a budding writer – I began writing short stories and novellas in junior high, and novels in high school – I was struck by how rare the word “fuck” appeared in print, even as it had wormed its way into more casual conversational use. But even in those days, “fuck” had weight. It made a point.

I took great pride in being one of the first writers to use “fuck” and “fucking” and “fucked” rather freely in my fiction. I may have been the first to use the phrase “Jesus fucking Christ” (you’re welcome). I was breaking down, or anyway helping break down, a fairly stupid barrier. I felt that people in my novels needed to sound something approximating how people actually talked. “Fuck” coming out of the closet lost some of the word’s power, but that struck me as all right.

And yet.

“Fuck” has become something lazy writers use far too often, particularly in films. Recently Barb and I went to Ready or Not 2: Here I Come, a sequel to (not surprisingly) Ready or Not. We liked the first movie and had a great time with the second one, too. We were fine with the violence and the mean-spirited fun – we knew what we were getting into, after all. Not everyone likes those movies, but we find them enjoyable dark comedies.

And…yet….

The dialogue, as is so often the case now, was just one “fuck” (and its derivatives) after another. It’s a tempting word to use. It has a history of power, even if it’s lacking in power now. It’s so much more satisfying than “damn” or even “goddamn,” since you land on a soft “m,” and who is impressed by “god” anymore, anyway?

And “fuck” has that wonderful “fuh” at the start and hard landing on the “k.” But that hard landing is dulled by overuse. The opening episode of For All Mankind’s fifth season – a solid, smart show – presents an alternate history of the space program in which everyone seems to live on the planet “fuck.”

I’m not talking about the act of, you know, fucking. Just the word. I still like to use it for that special punch. That unexpected kick. Only it increasingly packs a lesser punch, and it’s become more and more the refuge of writers who think the more salt you shake onto the meal, well, the tastier it’s gonna be.

In writing Return of the Maltese Falcon, I had great fun doing variations on Hammett’s way around using the then-forbidden word “fuck,” when gunsel Wilmer Cook insults Sam Spade – “The boy spoke two words, the first a short guttural verb, the second ‘you.'”

So to all you aspiring writers, whether of novels or screenplays or comics, my advice is: use some goshdarn restraint. Sprinkle the salt on your prose, don’t pour the fucking shit – it’s not a Winter sidewalk.

Anyway, it’s Spring now, so back the fuck off.

* * *

Some folks have asked about the major missing list from my recent couple of rounds of lists, so here it is:

FIVE FAVORITE MYSTERY WRITERS
1. Mickey Spillane
2. Dashiell Hammett
3. Raymond Chandler
4. Rex Stout
5. Agatha Christie
(number six is Erle Stanley Gardner)

One of the reasons why I say “favorite” and not “best” is that these are personal distinctions, not absolute opinions.

Let’s rearrange the list.

BEST MYSTERY WRITERS
1. Dashiell Hammett (from which everything noir flowed)
2. Raymond Chandler (the biggest influence on the genre)
3. Mickey Spillane (the writer who transformed the genre)
4. Agatha Christie (the greatest plotter)
5. Rex Stout (the most entertaining)

So while Stout comes in #4 on my favorite list, and #5 on my best list, I have no trouble admitting that I’d rather sit down to read a newly discovered Nero Wolfe/Archie Goodwin mystery than something by anyone else on these two glorious lists.

No further explanations will be offered (probably).

* * *

I am pleased to see that Road to Perdition (the film) continues to attract attention, particularly as a notable movie based on a “comic book.” These are worth checking out.

https://intheseats.ca/the-its-lists-comicon-special-top-non-superhero-comic-book-movies/

https://fanboyfactor.com/2026/03/movies-you-didnt-know-came-from-comics/

* * *

My buddy Heath Holland’s Cereal at Midnight YouTube videos are always worth a look. Heath and I have been doing frequent commentaries for Blu-ray releases for the likes of Kino Lorber and Imprint. We’ll be doing one this afternoon.

Heath recently interviewed me about my return to indie filmmaking, by way of micro budgets. This covers ground no one else has. You may find this worthwhile.

* * *

The True Noir event at the Putnam Museum and Science Center in Davenport, Iowa, has been rescheduled for May 28 and 29 (the last Thursday and Friday of May). On the first night we’ll be screening the restoration of the 1941 Maltese Falcon on the Putnam’s IMAX screen, followed by Robert Meyer Burnett (flying in from California – I believe he’s lining up at the airport now) interviewing me about Return of the Maltese Falcon. On Friday we’ll be presenting in the IMAX theater the opening chapters of our full-cast audio drama (based on my novel True Detective), True Noir: The Assassination of Anton Cermak.

Much more about this as the event approaches.

M.A.C.