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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.

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True Noir on CD, Love for Fruitcake & A Falcon Nice Review

Tuesday, April 21st, 2026

This week marks the release of the Blackstone/Skyboat four CD-set of True Noir: The Assassination of Anton Cermak (a one-disc MP3-format edition is also available). I’ve talked here often about the amazingly stellar cast (headed up by Michael Rosenbaum) and the direction by my buddy Robert Meyer Burnett. Rob and I both think True Noir is among the best things either of us has done.

You can order it here: https://downpour.com/products/book-101t

[Or here on Amazon. –Nate]

Incidentally, this link accesses 81 titles of mine, in all formats, including Return of the Maltese Falcon.

I get a few inquiries about why True Detective has been adapted under the name True Noir. The obvious (and correct) answer is that HBO used the title on its acclaimed series of a while back. But I like getting the word “noir” in there (and it was my suggestion).

For those of you unfamiliar with this project, here’s what True Noir is: a full-cast, fully scored (by Alexander Bornstein), complete with meticulous sound effects, scripted-by-me adaptation of the first Nathan Heller novel, True Detective. That book won the 1984 Best Novel “Shamus” award from the Private Eye Writers of America, and led to a long-running series (that I may return to one of these days). It really is a movie for the ears, running four and a half hours and providing several evenings of entertainment, or good company on a long road trip.

We hope to do more, but that’s up to you.

A big True Noir event at the Putnam in Davenport, Iowa, is coming up next month. Much more about that later.

* * *

Alisabeth Von Presley and Paula Sands in Death by Fruitcake

My old Ms. Tree cohort Terry Beatty stepped up to inform his Facebook friends about my little movie, Death By Fruitcake, which has just recently been offered here: Xumo (free); Roku Channel (free); Amazon Prime Video (free); YouTube ($2.99); Google Play Movies & TV ($2.99); and Apple TV ($4.99).

Here’s what Terry had to say:

My pal Max Allan Collins’ latest “no budget” movie is now available to stream on Amazon Prime — based on the cozy “Antiques” series of novels written by Max and his wife Barb, under the pen name of Barbara Allan. Well, this one’s based on a novella from an anthology of Christmas themed mysteries — but it features the mother/daughter amateur sleuths from the books. I’ve been providing illustrated maps of the fictional town of Serenity, where the books take place, for the whole run of the series, and just turned in a newly revised map for the next book this morning.

If you’ve been reading the books, you’ll know what to expect here. If “Brandy and Vivian” are new to you, you’ll have fun being introduced to them. As I noted — this is a super low budget movie, so don’t go in expecting Hollywood production values. You also shouldn’t expect a “tough guy” mystery here — this is drawing room/cozy stuff — but with the Collins touch all over it.

You’ll likely have to use Prime’s search function to find it, as they’re busy highlighting bigger budget fare. Enjoy — and don’t eat the fruitcake.

This nice post from Terry elicited this post from Steven Thompson:

HT (hat tip) to Terry Beatty for this morning’s entertainment, a delightful little cozy mystery on Prime written and directed by the estimable Max Allan Collins. The two leads playing mother/daughter small town sleuths are extremely charismatic and both quite well-known in other fields. The non-violent murder mystery is more fun than mysterious, with numerous winks and 4th wall breaks. The dialogue sounds stagey but hey, I talk that way sometimes myself. People tell me I sound odd. Having been an amateur actor myself, too, I certainly recognize that in the film’s entire cast but by no means is that saying they’re bad in any way. As a director, Max makes the most of his low budget quite well indeed, and he even gives a cameo to Dick Tracy, the strip he wrote for years!

Having looked into them now, I see where Paula Sands retired a couple years back from a 40 year career as an Iowa newswoman and talk show host. She is great fun as the theatre director attempting to solve the murder of her much disliked leading lady. Tall and sharply eyelashed Alisabeth Von Presley is really a singer and has appeared on shows like American Idol but she can deliver lines well and she has a wonderful grin and wink. Her relationship with Paula as her mother carries the show.

Highly recommended as long as you don’t expect Oscar-quality anything! A great way to start my morning.

And mine! Though Fruitcake is probably best watched some quiet evening over several glasses of wine with someone you love.

I’m grateful to all of you who have given Fruitcake a try, and especially if you’ve posted at Facebook or elsewhere, including Amazon reviews, where right now we only have two reviews but they are overwhelmingly positive.

* * *

In case you haven’t got round to picking up the current Return of the Maltese Falcon, this review from Matthew Legare should encourage you.

First serialized in 1929, The Maltese Falcon is one of the mystery genre’s most enduring titles. It’s been adapted, parodied, and inspired countless writers. But now, it gets a sequel in the form of Max Allan Collins’s Return of the Maltese Falcon.

Not an official sequel, mind you, but since Dashiell Hammett’s original novel entered public domain this year, any writer can use it however they wish. It’s a bit dicey, since only the original novel is public domain, not the famous 1941 film with Humphrey Bogart, probably the single most influential piece of media for film noir and the hardboiled PI genre. Whenever a stock or cliché gumshoe detective shows up, they’re imitating Bogie as Sam Spade, not the original novel.

(MAC: Hard disagree. The novel itself was already the seminal influence on the private eye novel when the Huston/Bogart film appeared.)

As such, the sequel’s Sam Spade is described as he is in the original novel, i.e. a “blond Satan” and distinctly opposite to Bogart. What’s more, it’s written in Hammett’s distinctive, staccato prose, and all in third-person. That’s a detail I appreciate as too many mystery novels are first person à la Spillane and Chandler, but I’m biased as I always prefer third-person.

The 1941 film (as well as the less famous 1931 adaptation) actually follow the novel pretty closely, so Collins’s sequel actually works pretty well if you’ve only seen the movie and never read the book. Even the cover (a glorious piece of art by the legendary Hard Case Crime imprint) is more evocative of the original novel, with Sam Spade younger and more hawkish than his film versions, the femme fatale a sultry flapper, and the black bird itself more spindly than its bulky movie counterpart.

It starts off shortly after the events of the novel, set in late 1929 (Hammett never specified a date but 1929 is a perfect year in my opinion), Sam receives another mysterious femme fatale in the form of Rhea Gutman, daughter of the villainous Caspar Gutman aka the Fat Man and mastermind of the original novel.

(MAC: a gentle correction. The novel takes place in December 1928 as the text says.)

She’s convinced the Maltese Falcon is not only real but still in San Francisco. If you will remember, the Falcon was procured by a shadowy Russian officer, General Kemidov, who duped Gutman and his two criminal associates, Joel Cairo and Brigid O’Shaughnessy, with a lead phony.

Spade isn’t so sure, but he believes Rhea’s money and visits Cairo and Brigid in jail, asking where Kemidov’s whereabouts may be. Cairo, who was probably the best character in the original novel after Spade himself (famously played by the legendary Peter Lorre) is used sparingly here, which is unfortunate, but there really was no way to get him out of jail after being arrested in the original novel I suppose.

Regardless, Spade does what he does best, snooping for clues and getting into trouble. Sketchy characters emerge out of the San Francisco fog, like our old pal Wilmer Cook, Caspar’s boy gunsel, who has a few violent run-ins with Spade.

Added to the mix are a few other characters like Dixie Monahan, briefly mentioned in the original novel as a dangerous Chicago gangster, who is now also looking for the Falcon. Stewart Blackwood, a refined Englishman from a museum who has, apparently, already paid for the Falcon. Also there’s Brigid O’Shaughnessy’s sister, trying to find the black bird to help pay for legal fees. Kemidov himself features prominently in this novel with his invisible presence felt everywhere, something I appreciate since he was just a name and plot device in the original novel.

Spade juggles multiple clients and leads, along with a mysterious dead body he’s asked to identify, until he finally gets on the Falcon’s scent. Not a decoy, not a misdirect, but the actual Maltese Falcon. This time there’s no going back, but the dangers get even more perilous for Spade – Wilmer Cook keeps popping up but even more troubling, the Police check up on Rhea’s backstory and it turns out, Caspar Gutman never had a daughter.

Everything is wrapped up in the classic “exposition room” scene with all the suspects together and facts laid out. Cliché, but it works.

The Maltese Falcon is one of my favorite novels and Hammett’s prose has influenced me in ways I am forever grateful. It’s a masterpiece and a great piece of American literature, albeit pulp fiction. There are definite problems, some important characters mentioned (like Kemidov) never show up and some of the plot seems rushed together, and the fate of several characters are explained to us off screen. However, all the elements flow together into a beautiful canvas by the end. If you’ve never read it, you don’t know what you’re missing.

(MAC: These are excellent observations. Hammett famously claimed not to have plotted the book in advance, rather writing it by the seat of his pants, as we pulp writers put it, which explains some of what Matthew has to say here.)

Max Allan Collins is what I call a “working man’s writer.” This guy has been writing for decades, across multiple platforms – novels, novelizations, comic books, comic strips (he used to write the official Dick Tracy strip) – and shows no signs of slowing down. He has over two hundred novels to his name with multiple series like the historical detective Nathan Heller, the hitman Quarry, and has collaborated with the legendary Mickey Spillane to finish off the Mike Hammer books. You can tell this man loves the crime genre with a passion and if there’s one living writer worth, and dedicated enough, to write its sequel, it’s Collins.

Return of the Maltese Falcon is a worthy addition to American pulp fiction and worth your time.

It’s incredibly gratifying to receive a smart review like this. I try not to be influenced by either good or bad reviews. I regard the good ones as positive publicity and the bad ones as negative publicity; but don’t allow myself to be influenced by either…though, like most people in the arts, I remember the bad reviews vividly while the good ones are a blur.

* * *

My son Nate and grandson Sam have been watching Cowboy Bebop on Blu-ray. It’s a favorite of Nate and mine, and it was a joy revisiting this incredible s-f/crime anime after so long a time. I would rank it with the original Star Trek and Lexx (a show criminally off my recent “favorites” list) as among my very favorite science fiction series (call it Number 6, although I should probably put The Prisoner there and give Lexx the Prisoner’s slot on the five favorites).

One of the things that characterizes the series is its outstanding music by composer Yoko Kanno and her band the Seatbelts. They just a few weeks ago performed in the United States. Here they are performing the opening theme of Cowboy Bebop (a theme rivaled only by Peter Gunn and James Bond). Enjoy!

M.A.C.

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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.

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True Noir Followed by a Slice of Fruitcake – WTF?

Tuesday, March 24th, 2026

I’m not sure what compelled me to do two weeks of lists of “Five Favorites” here. I can say with confidence it was more about me looking back and summing up than trying to sway anybody about those favorites. I do admit to trying to bring new eyes and ears to Bobby Darin and Vanilla Fudge, but otherwise I was just taking stock of what has shaped and is shaping me, even at this late stage of the game.

Yesterday (as I write this) Heath Holland interviewed me about my return in recent years to indie filmmaking. I haven’t seen it, and don’t believe it’s been posted yet; but it felt good. I’ll provide a link here as soon as I can.


Heath Holland

I mention this, first, because I want to recommend Heath’s work on YouTube in general (under his Cereal at Midnight banner). He is one of the best and sanest of the champions of physical media out there right now. He and I have been doing commentaries (about 10 so far I believe) for various Blu-rays and 4K discs).

Also, as many of you know, I have a regular segment on YouTube as part of Robert Meyer Burnett’s show Let’s Get Physical Media, with the great Dieter Bastion. It’s a show that usually runs about two and a half hours, airing live on YouTube on Sunday afternoon (1 pm Central). And of course you can catch it anytime, after it airs, at your convenience. I usually come on about 2 p.m. Central and discuss discs I’ve recently watched, usually noir/mystery-centric movies or at least noir-adjacent. I stay for about an hour. There’s lots of movie talk and news of forthcoming physical media releases. I was a fan before I become, well, a segment.

Rob and Dieter have been great about promoting Death by Fruitcake, though I suspect it is anything but their cup of tea. They have also relentlessly given time to Return of the Maltese Falcon and to the Burnett/Collins collaboration, True Noir: The Assassination of Anton Cermak.

Rob will be coming to the Quad Cities some time in early May (exact date to be determined) for an event at the Putnam Museum in Davenport. (This event was supposed to be in early April but that didn’t work out.) We’ll be showing The Maltese Falcon on their big IMAX screen on the first night, followed with an interview with me about Return of the Maltese Falcon. On the second night we’ll present the opening chapters of True Noir, also in the IMAX theater.


Robert Meyer Burnett salutes True Noir

As I’ve mentioned, True Noir is now in wide distribution at your favorite audio source, with a four-CD set due soon from Skyboat. There’s also a soundtrack of Alex Bornstein’s wonderful score in the works, and I believe the entire audio drama will be available on Blu-ray in 5.1 with the collected chapter-by-chapter videos I made about the history behind this first Heller saga.

Enough about me. Let’s talk about you. What have you done for Max Allan Collins lately? I’m listening. I’m waiting.

Joking aside, you’ve done plenty. Many of you have reviewed Return of the Maltese Falcon on Amazon and elsewhere. That’s very helpful. The book is successful enough that serious talk is under way to do two Sam Spade follow-up novels. Barnes & Noble are carrying it widely now, again thanks to your nudging, although they have generally relegated it to the mystery section and not among significant new releases. BAM! has been much better.

Keep those reviews coming. If you’ve read the book, and like it, let Amazon know by way of a review, which can be as long or short as you like. If you didn’t like it, remember – silence is golden.

Death by Fruitcake can use your help, too – we have two lovely reviews at Amazon so far. It’s a little high-priced for a DVD (around $22) but unfortunately I can’t do anything about that. It’s streaming all over the place, but not free yet. That will come sometime next month, I think.

I was amused when Heath spoke of liking Fruitcake but being blindsided by what a different tone it has compared to my other work. (He had just listened to Michael Rosenbaum as Nate Heller in True Noir.) He also was not a fan or even familiar with “cozy” mysteries. But he did claim to have enjoyed our little movie, and particularly singled out Alisabeth Von Presley and Paula Sands for praise (not surprisingly).


Paula Sands and Alisabeth Von Presley in Death by Fruitcake.

And, for those of you who follow – or at least have sampled the Barbara Allan-bylined series my wife Barb and I write together – know, our Antiques/Trash ‘n’ Treasures mysteries are what you might call subversive cozies. They contain at least as much humor as mystery, and our tongues are in cheek throughout.

At 20 books, these novels about Brandy and Vivian Borne are arguably my (our) most successful series. The current one, Antiques Round-up, is a fairly wild ride, I think you’ll find. And we just delivered Antiques Web.

What am I – are we – working on now? Well, I am waiting to hear about the prospective Spade novels and a sequel to another successful property of mine, which puts me in a limbo in which I am not comfortable. Ditto for Barb, as the book we recently sent in is the last on the current contract.

I guess Barb and I are in an uber-Spring Cleaning mode, as we have descended into our basement to thin my book and magazines and DVD collections into something that can reasonably be considered contained. It’s ain’t easy, kids. I am looking at close to sixty years (choke!) of collecting…no, let’s be frank: accumulating…and to give you an idea, we took seven boxes of magazines and books to the Source Bookstore in Davenport last week, and another seven to Half-Price Books in Cedar Rapids yesterday.

And we’ve barely made a dent.

Do not think that our basement will be empty when we are finished. The goal is to turn it from a hoarding nightmare into a curated dream, and it’s going to be a year-long job (in and around the books we both have to write).

Or at least I hope we’ll have books to write. That depends on editors and readers, and obviously that’s where you come in – it’s why I’m after you to write reviews, and why I hope you’ll consider ordering Death by Fruitcake from Amazon (Oldies.com has it, too, a little cheaper but with postage that will sting if you’re used to no postage charges as an Amazon Prime member).

The success or lack of it for Fruitcake will determine whether I can muster my aging body for another run at a micro-budget indie or two. I have a horror film next in mind, and would love to do another Antiques movie, if my cast will come back.

The crazy thing is this: I have three major movie options going right now (Mike Hammer, Eliot Ness and Nolan, with Ms. Tree bubbling), which stand to generate a hell of a lot more income than another homemade micro-budget movie. But here’s how I look at it: I have had probably twenty-plus Hollywood options over the years, and exactly two have come through (Road to Perdition and Quarry). And I don’t seem to be getting any younger. So I just stay at it.

And as long as I am here, and you are here, I will.

M.A.C.

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