Posts Tagged ‘Sam Spade’

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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.

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

M.A.C.

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Sam Spade News & A Fruitcake Near-Rave

Tuesday, April 28th, 2026

I’m pleased to announce I’ve signed with Hard Case Crime to do two more Sam Spade novels.

Launching a new Spade series wasn’t my intention in writing Return of the Maltese Falcon. I merely wanted to be out there first with a sequel to the classic original, now that it was in the public domain, and was presumptuous enough to think I could get it right.

As I’ve mentioned here, when I finished writing the book, and was pleased with it, my wife Barb warned me to brace myself – she said, Not everyone would like me appointing myself to a task that some might think ought never have been attempted. My thinking was, Somebody’s going to do this, and it might as well be me.

And I was surprised and pleased that the reactions were overwhelmingly favorable, generating some of my best reviews ever. A few naysayers weighed in, though were very much in the minority. Don’t get me wrong: I didn’t feel vindicated, I felt relieved.

Only when I saw how well Return of the Maltese Falcon was doing did I begin thinking about writing more Sam Spade. Spade is a character about whom Hammett might well have written another dozen or two novels, like Gardner with Perry Mason, Christie with Hercule Poirot or Rex Stout with Nero Wolfe. And of course Hammett, before turning his back on mystery writing, had written three Spade short stories, plus there’d been the popular Spade radio show with Howard Duff.

But what came to my mind was offering my publisher a trilogy, the first of which would be the already existing Return. I found it interesting to suggest two more Spade novels, each separated by ten years or so – to see what Spade was up to in the war years and then the McCarthy-era ‘50s (which obviously have resonance with Hammett’s life).

I wrote a fairly lengthy proposal and Hard Case Crime’s Charles Ardai, with support from parent company Titan’s Nick and Vivian Landau and my editor Andrew Sumner, responded favorably. I am now about to begin work on Prey for the Maltese Falcon, set in 1939.

In some ways it’s more challenging than Return, which gave me the luxury of working within the parameters of the original novel – its characters, its locations, its themes. Now Spade is ten years older, and the case I’ve constructed takes him all sorts of places that the original novel and my sequel didn’t.

Wish me luck.

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The UK’s Guardian has an excellent essay on the resurgence of interest in the private eye. It includes a nice reference to Return and me.

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I was surprised and pleased to discover that the Overly Honest Reviews site has posted a terrific Death by Fruitcake review that I’ve been granted permission to share with you.

RAVING REVIEW: One of the best types of mysteries doesn’t pretend to be bigger than it is. DEATH BY FRUITCAKE leans into its small-town setting, its contained stage environment, and its personality-driven storytelling without trying to inflate the stakes beyond what the story can support. That restraint ends up being one of its biggest advantages. It knows the scale it’s operating within and, instead of stretching, digs inward into character, tone, and timing.

The setup is simple in the best way. A dress rehearsal collapses into chaos when a notoriously difficult actress drops dead mid-performance, and suddenly everyone in the room becomes a suspect. That kind of confined, single-location mystery has been done countless times, but what makes this one click is the attention it pays to the personalities circling the event. This isn’t about elaborate plotting or intricate twists stacked on top of each other. It’s about letting the audience sit in a room full of people who all have a reason to hate the victim and watching the tension build from there.

Paula Sands carries much of the story as Vivian, and what stands out isn’t just her presence but the way the performance embraces a slightly heightened delivery without tipping into parody. There’s a stiffness to her line reading at times, but instead of breaking the illusion, it almost feeds into the character. Vivian feels like someone who sees herself as more composed and authoritative than she actually is, and that disconnect becomes part of the charm. It’s not polished conventionally, but it fits the world the film builds.

Alisabeth Von Presley brings a different kind of portrayal as Brandy, and the contrast between the two performances becomes one of the film’s strengths. Where Vivian leans toward control and presentation, Brandy feels more fluid, more aware of the absurdity around her. The moments where she interacts directly with the camera could have come off as distracting. They’re used sparingly enough that they add personality instead of pulling you out of the story. It gives the film an edge, a reminder that it’s in on its own tone without constantly pointing it out.

The supporting cast fills out the ensemble, keeping the suspect pool engaging. No one is pushed into satire, but everyone is just exaggerated enough to feel distinct. That balance is important in a story like this. If the characters blend into one another, the mystery loses its shape. Here, each interaction carries just enough tension or humor to keep things moving, even when the narrative slows.

The investigation expands in a way that feels intentionally relaxed, but there are stretches where it could have used a sharper sense of escalation. Conversations feel a bit repetitive at times, suspicions shift without always adding new information, and the momentum dips as a result. It never stalls completely, but there’s a version of this that trims some of that repetition and lands with a bit more impact.

There’s a lightness to the humor that doesn’t undercut the mystery, and a sense of familiarity that works in its favor rather than against it. It feels like a story that understands its audience, especially those drawn to mysteries where the intrigue matters but the experience is just as much about spending time with the characters. The jokes land more often than not, and when they don’t, they still feel in line with the world the film has created.

The single-location setting becomes a strength rather than a constraint, forcing the film to rely on blocking, performance, and dialogue rather than on visuals. There’s a stage-like quality to everything, which makes sense given the setting, and instead of fighting that, the film leans into it.

What ultimately holds everything together is the film’s understanding of what kind of mystery it wants to be. It’s not chasing complexity for its own sake, and it’s not trying to reinvent the genre. Instead, it focuses on delivering a contained, character-driven story with enough intrigue to keep you guessing and enough personality to keep you invested.

There’s also an underlying appreciation for the setting itself. The small-town dynamics, the overlapping relationships, the way grudges and histories linger just beneath the surface, all of that feeds into the mystery without needing to be spelled out. It gives the film a sense of place that adds texture without complicating the narrative.

DEATH BY FRUITCAKE doesn’t aim for perfection. Its appeal comes from how comfortably it settles into its identity. The imperfections are part of the experience, but they don’t define it. What sticks is the chemistry between its leads, the playful tone, and the steady commitment to telling a story that fits its scale. It’s the kind of film that understands exactly what it’s offering, and more importantly, what it isn’t. And in a genre that often overreaches or overcomplicates itself, that clarity goes a long way.

Please visit https://linktr.ee/overlyhonestr for more reviews.

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If you haven’t read Return of the Maltese Falcon yet, please do. And if you watch Death by Fruitcake on Prime or Roku or Apple TV, please leave a thumbs up if you’ve enjoyed it. And if you order the DVD from Amazon, a favorable review there would also be helpful.

Finally, just a reminder that True Noir: The Assassination of Anton Cermak is out as a 4-CD set now, and can be ordered here for only $23.37 (on sale from its usual $35.95) [Also in a single-disc MP3-CD for $19.47 or digital download for a mere $12.97! – Nate] It’s a full-cast star-studded nearly five-hour audio drama written by me from the first Nate Heller novel, True Detective, and directed by my pal Robert Meyer Burnett.

M.A.C.

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Falcon Nice Reviews (Get It?)

Tuesday, January 13th, 2026

I am happy to report that the reviews for Return of the Maltese Falcon thus far have been overwhelmingly positive. While proud of the book, and delighted to have had the chance to write it, I have braced myself (at my smart wife’s instructions) for what might be reviews in the “who do you think you are?” category.

That reaction is understandable.

My only justification is that the novel was written out of love and respect for Dashiell Hammett and his great novel. I was writing it essentially for the adolescent I’d been who desperately wanted to read another Sam Spade novel.

When I began reading mystery fiction, and became obsessed with Mickey Spillane and Mike Hammer, I knew that Mickey hadn’t written a Hammer novel in almost ten years. Imagine my delight and astonishment when in 1961 (nine years after Kiss Me, Deadly) Mickey gave his readers The Girl Hunters.

I knew, with The Maltese Falcon coming into the public domain, that Sam Spade would inevitably be subjected to the kind of nonsense that Winnie the Pooh, Popeye the Sailor and Steamboat Willie have, by way of “inspiring” bottom-feeding horror features. Higher up the food chain, but not necessarily involving writers who understood and respected the material they were drawing upon, new Sam Spade stories would almost certainly emerge. Paging James Patterson.

I wanted to be first and (at least try to) do it right.

Here is a review at Book Reporter that I particularly liked seeing, as the reviewer seemed to understand and appreciate what I was up to.

You may be interested in checking out this interview from Alex Dueben at CrimeReads, which is different from most of the many other interviews I’ve given over the years. Frankly, I usually request questions in writing and will respond accordingly – e-mail interviews. I can control what gets out there.

This interview, however, was actually transcribed and presented as spoken. It is long, and I thought pretty good, if exposing my loquaciousness (like that needed exposure). I was given the opportunity to go over it, and corrected a couple of things, but mostly got out of Alex’s way. I wasn’t happy with how long-winded I was, but relieved I spoke in actual sentences…a novelty these days.

There is a quite gratifying post on Linked-in from a longtime fan (he used to write into the Ms. Tree letters column, SWAK, frequently) – Wylie Wong. I love that name. It has music.

Anyway, I’m going to share his nice write-up with you.

I need to fanboy for a bit. Max Allan Collins – best known as the author of Road to Perdition – is the reason I grew up wanting to be a writer. And he just sent me an autographed copy of his latest novel, Return of the Maltese Falcon.

As a teen, I devoured his Ms. Tree comic books and mystery novels. I loved his work so much that I wrote him a 12-page fan letter. Somewhere in my gushing praise, I mentioned I couldn’t find two of his out-of-print novels. A month later, Collins responded with the coolest Christmas gift: those two books – autographed.

Later, I met him at San Diego Comic-Con and went full geek with a backpack full of his books to sign. He graciously spent 20 minutes chatting and signing, then told me he was publishing a condensed version of my letter in Ms. Tree. That fan letter became the first thing I ever had published.

When I went to college, I double-majored in creative writing and journalism, curious about a career in either fiction or non-fiction. Collins influenced my writing in unexpected ways – I even fell in love with the em dash because of him – and I’ve used it ever since. (So screw you, AI. I used it first.) But I enjoyed journalism too much, so I dropped creative writing and focused on telling true stories instead. No regrets.

Fast forward to 2024: Collins announced he was writing a sequel to Dashiell Hammett’s The Maltese Falcon. I loved the original book. I loved the movie. A sequel from my favorite author? I’m all in.

When the book came out this week, Collins offered free copies to the first 20 people who promised to write an Amazon review. I wrote to him saying I’d already pre-ordered a copy but would love to be included. I told him I was still a big fan and shared that after college, I lived on Leavenworth Street in San Francisco, two blocks from where Hammett lived and supposedly finished the Falcon. On cold, foggy nights, like SF Chronicle columnist Herb Caen, I’d imagine Sam Spade tromping up and down the hills.

Collins responded saying it was a “terrific email” and he’d send me the book and to “feel free to read the hell out of your other copy.”

I don’t know if he even remembers me. But receiving this book brings me right back to my teenage years, reading voraciously and learning good storytelling.

Oh, and for the record: I have the real Maltese Falcon in my home office. Photo as proof.

Thank you for this, Wylie. Good reviews, and particularly rave reviews, feel great – but a piece like yours goes way beyond anything of those.

M.A.C.

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Return of the Maltese Falcon Pub Date

Tuesday, January 6th, 2026

Despite the title this week, I am not suggesting we all go down to the local pub and discuss Dashiell Hammett’s The Maltese Falcon.

No.

It is the publication date of my sequel to The Maltese Falcon that we are celebrating on January 6, 2026 (not the sixth anniversary of the Insurrection at the Capitol, either).

The celebration actually began last week, when I announced a book giveaway for copies of the hardcover Hard Case Crime first edition of Return of the Maltese Falcon. I offered 20 copies but expanded that to 25 from my personal stash. All 25 copies were gone on the first day. My thanks to all of you who entered and won, and especially to those I had to turn away.

Tomorrow as I write this (and today as you read it), you will be able to send a review to Amazon and other of the usual on-line suspects (Amazon doesn’t allow pre-pub reviews). I have been asked what it feels like to have this dream project actually come to fruition, and I have replied thusly: I am waiting to see it displayed among the New Releases at the Davenport, Iowa, Barnes & Noble – then I will believe it. And savor it.

Yes, I have long been dreaming about doing my own Sam Spade novel, and I can pinpoint when that desire began: 1961. I was thirteen, still in junior high, specifically the 8th grade. I saw the movie on TV that same year – I believe I did so on a Sunday morning, having convinced my parents that I was sick and couldn’t go to Sunday school or church.

I’ve done several interviews, including one on YouTube, wondering if the idea of specifically doing a Maltese Falcon sequel was something I’d had in mind from the start. The truth is: no. I just wanted to do a Sam Spade novel. The idea for the sequel was what I came up when I made my pitch to Titan Books in March of 2024. I think the whole pitch was, “I’d like to do a sequel to The Maltese Falcon.”

Doing so was gratifying and enjoyable, but hard. Hammett’s brilliant novel was a contemporary work; mine was a period piece. I had plenty of experience in the latter, having done all those Nathan Heller, Eliot Ness and “disaster series’ novels (like The Titanic Murders). So I was something of an old hand at historical fiction, which this would be in a way.

Hammett’s sly, spare style had to occasionally give way to describing places in a historical context – fortunately I had WPA Guides to both San Francisco and California, Don Herron’s excellent The Dashiell Hammett Tour, and several other reference works to call upon. Internet research also came into play. I think – hope – I hit the right balance.

When I completed the novel – having read it through to my satisfaction, doing any necessary tweaks – I was ready to send it to editor/publisher Charles Ardai at Hard Case Crime (Titan is the parent company) – my wife Barb (a writer herself) took me gently aside.

“You’d better prepare yourself,” she said, “for attacks. Not by everybody, but you will be seen by some as exploiting a classic.”

I’d known that going in, but hearing Barb say it was damn near bone-chilling. And last year, as word about my novel got around, I was in fact attacked several times, before the book had even come out or been read by anybody.

I have run into this before. It’s likely, if you’re reading this, that you are aware of my love for Mickey Spillane as a man and a writer, and that – at his request in his final days – he honored me by asking me to complete various works of his that were to be found in his three home offices. He did not put this in motion for his glory or mine, for that matter; but to generate income for his widow, Jane Spillane.

And yet.

There are hardcore Spillane fans who refuse to read the Spillane/Collins byline books or say disparaging things about them. This despite every one of the 16 novels (14 Mike Hammer) having significant Spillane content. The first ten or so were manuscripts well in progress by him, 100 manuscript pages (and notes about endings in some cases). One reader posted a review of Complex 90 (in which I show Velda and Mike in an overtly sexual relationship), accusing me of doing explicit material in a way that Mickey supposedly never would have.

Apparently that huge Spillane fan had never read either The Erection Set or The Last Cop Out. Hint: The Erection Set has erections in it, and I don’t mean buildings.

A key part of my approach to the Spillane co-bylined novels was to determine when he had written the partial manuscripts (and other material), so I could place the book at hand in the context of where Mickey was as a writer and as a man at that moment.

Much of the Spillane unpubbed material was developed during the (ahem) long wait between Kiss Me, Deadly (1952) and The Deep (a non-Hammer followed a year later by Hammer’s return in The Girl Hunters). But Mickey didn’t stop writing during that period – he published a dozen novellas, usually in the men’s adventure magazine Cavalier – works that are a window into his thinking and his evolving literary style.

Here’s the thing about The Maltese Falcon and public domain: somebody was going to do it. Other things that have gone into the public domain have led to such wondrous creative projects as horror films featuring Popeye the Sailor, Winnie the Pooh and Steamboat Willie. I wanted to make a respectful, serious attempt to do Sam Spade correctly. Faithful to Hammett. Others will no doubt follow me, and some may do a better job of it. But I wanted to be first and do it right.

After all, we can’t be far away from James Patterson bylining a novel in which Sam Spade meets Hercule Poirot and Jane Marple, perhaps among Father Brown’s congregation or maybe in the waiting room of Sherlock Holmes, possibly to solve the murder of C. Auguste Dupin.

Anyway, you can imagine how relieved I’ve been at getting such great reviews from the three major book reviewing services: Publisher’s Weekly (a starred review), Booklist and even Kirkus, who in the past have often indicated that humanity would have been better served if I’d just stayed at sacking groceries (I was goddamn good at that).

The first review not from one of those reviewing services has popped up, and it’s worth sharing with you.

Return of the Maltese Falcon
Reviewed by James Reasoner

I’m starting the new year off well with an excellent novel from Max Allan Collins. I’ve been a fan of THE MALTESE FALCON since I read the novel in high school, the first thing by Dashiell Hammett I ever read, I believe. Needless to say, I was hooked. Now the original magazine version of the novel, as serialized in the iconic pulp BLACK MASK, is in public domain, and that’s what Collins has used as the starting point for his new novel RETURN OF THE MALTESE FALCON, which, as he points out, is a continuation rather than a true sequel.

And if, by some chance, you’ve never read Hammett’s novel, stop right now and read it before you read this review, and absolutely don’t tackle Collins’ novel until you’ve read the original, because they’re both, of necessity, full of spoilers. I mean it!

The action starts a week after the end of THE MALTESE FALCON, in December 1928. The dead Miles Archer’s desk has been removed from the office of Spade & Archer, and Effie Perrine, Sam Spade’s secretary, has put up a Christmas tree in its place. (Does that make this a Christmas novel? It sure does!)

A potential client pays a visit to Spade’s office. She’s Rhea Gutman, Casper Gutman’s daughter, and she wants to hire Spade to find the real Falcon. The one in Hammett’s novel was a fake, remember? Rhea is the first of four clients who give Spade a retainer to find the dingus. The others are Chicago gambler Dixie Monahan, Corrine Wonderly, the younger sister of femme fatale Brigid O’Shaughnessy, and Steward Blackwood, an official from the British Museum who claims that institution is the true owner of the Falcon.

Spade plays all these characters against each other. He has run-ins with the cops. A dead body turns up. Spade is hit on the head and knocked out, and he’s captured by a gunman who wants to kill him. This is great stuff in the classic hardboiled private eye mode, the kind of thing that Dashiell Hammett invented, along with Carroll John Daly. Stylistically, Collins’ fast-moving, straight-ahead prose isn’t quite as stripped down as Hammett’s, but it’s certainly in the same ballpark.

Being constrained to use only the elements to be found in the original novel’s pulp serialization turns out to be a good thing. Collins is able to bring on-stage characters who were only mentioned before and invent new ones who fit perfectly in that setting. The resolution of the mystery and the way the book wraps everything up are extremely satisfying.

A number of years ago, I read and loved Joe Gores’ prequel novel SPADE & ARCHER. RETURN OF THE MALTESE FALCON is even better. I’m glad Max Allan Collins wrote it, and I’m grateful to Hard Case Crime for publishing it. It’ll be out officially in e-book and hardcover editions tomorrow. For hardboiled fans, I give it my highest recommendation.

This is, obviously, a lovely review. James Reasoner, a top-notch word smith himself, is incorrect about one thing: while I re-read the serialization of The Maltese Falcon (in Otto Penzler’s The Black Lizard Big Book of Black Mask Stories), the basis for my sequel is the published novel (Knopf, 1930). The serialization did not go into the public domain till last year, as its final installment appeared January 1930.

Trust me – I kept an eye on that.

Nonetheless, Mr. Reasoner liking my novel means a lot to me, as he is about as seasoned a pro in the fiction game as anybody I know of.

If you are familiar with the Bogart-starring film adaptation of The Maltese Falcon, a re-reading of that novel before reading the sequel isn’t necessary. A few readers have already told me they plan to re-read the original after they’ve read my sequel. Or that they will view the 1941 film either again or for the first time, in preparation of reading Return of the Maltese Falcon.

That my book will bring some new readers to Hammett’s masterpiece (The Glass Key is next best) is incredibly gratifying.

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My pal Robert Meyer Burnett – who so masterfully directed the audio drama True Noir: The Assassination of Anton Cermak, adapted by me from my novel True Detective – is a well-known YouTube pundit (among much else) with two long-running shows on that platform: Robservations and Let’s Get Physical Media.

On the first weekend of January, 2026, I appeared on episodes of both of those shows.

I caution you: these are lengthy episodes. The Robervations is an interview of me by Rob about (largely) Return of the Maltese Falcon). It runs around two hours!

The Let’s Get Physical Media has Rob, co-host Dieter Bastion, and me discussing our top ten favorite physical media releases of the year – it’s well over three hours with many excursions into this and that, including my most recent battle with Rob over Never Say Never Again, the film missing from the Sean Connery “James Bond” 4K set.

The interview:

The Favorite Blu-ray and 4K releases of 2025 from Burnett, Bastion and Collins:

Amazingly, one of the outstanding reviewers of physical media on the Net, That Damn Fool Idealistic Crusader, has done a very smart deep-dive into my novelization of the Dick Tracy movie, and goes into my misadventures writing it.

Even more amazingly, Spencer Draper, The Damn Fool Idealistic Crusader himself, has done the same for my two hard-to-find Tracy novels, Dick Tracy Goes to War and Dick Tracy Meets His Match.

He’s articulate and very, very smart, but again, a warning: these ain’t short shows. The novelization episode is about half an hour, and the Tracy novels episode is about forty minutes.

Damn that Damn Fool Idealistic Crusader! He makes me want to try to get the rights back to reprint the two rare Tracy novels he discusses!

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Here’s another one of those articles about movies from comics that aren’t about superheroes.

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Let’s make 2026 a much better year than the last.

M.A.C.

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