Posts Tagged ‘True Noir’

Video Interviews and Ruminations of AI Replacing Me

Tuesday, February 11th, 2025

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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What does A.I. think of me?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Here’s the roast:

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

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

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

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

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

Here’s the Barbara Allan praise from chatGPT:

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

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

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

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

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

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

Or, as chatGPT had to say on this subject:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

M.A.C.

An Impact-ful Noir, James Stewart, and…More

Tuesday, February 4th, 2025

I don’t generally review physical media (that is, Blu-rays) here, but this one, from VCI (who – full disclosure – distributed Blue Christmas) is a worthwhile exception. The movie I’m talking about is a fairly well-regarded noir that I’d never seen: Impact (1949), with Brian Donlevy (perhaps best-known for starring in Preston Sturges’ The Great McGinty (1940) and playing Quatermass in two mid-‘50s Hammer adaptations of the British TV serials).

Impact movie poster

What made me pop this disc into my Blu-ray player the very day said disc arrived, however, was the presence of the two female leads – Helen Walker and Ella Raines. Walker starred with Fred MacMurray in Murder, She Says (1945), that greatest of comedy noir, and had a memorable femme fatale role in the original Nightmare Alley (1947) (accept no substitutes). Raines was a noir favorite (Phantom Lady, 1944) and also a favorite leading lady of John Wayne’s (Tall in the Saddle, 1944). Both women were strikingly, somewhat unconventionally beautiful.

Impact movie poster
Helen Walker

Both actresses, despite varied careers, are probably most associated with their film noir work. Walker in particular played a number of femme fatales, while Raines was more often the “good girl” in the mix, and that’s the case in Impact.

Impact movie poster

And, in Impact, it’s the two women who make the most, well, impact. Donlevy is quite good, and his performance has more colors than was his usual practice – he’s made to go more places, and he goes there in an understated but typically powerful way. He was not usually the leading man, and even playing Quatermass, for example, comes across as a character actor. In any event, a man with a lot of walls that are difficult to look behind.

In Impact, he plays a rather ruthless leader in the automotive industry, casually running roughshod over his board of directors. But at home, in his insanely large and lavish apartment, he is a love-struck pushover to his beautiful, charming wife, Walker in a tricky role. What seems like a textbook happy marriage, if dominated by the female, soon reveals itself with Donlevy as the cuckold targeted by Walker for homicide.

I don’t want to ruin the many twists and turns – one of them involves the great Anna Mae Wong in her second-to-last big-screen performance – but structurally this is like nothing else in the noir (or any) catalogue. It was shot by iconic cinematographer Ernest Laszlo (Kiss Me Deadly, 1955). And it begins as a noir out of the Double Indemnity (1944) play book, if largely from the targeted victim’s POV, playing as a bigger-budget Detour for about the first third.

Then the second act finds a wandering Donlevy (after fate or maybe God gives him a pass on being a murder victim) winding up in what seems to be an Andy Hardy movie, minus manic Mickey Rooney. This is where Ella Raines comes in as a war widow running her late husband’s gas station. The whole mood is wholesome small-town after the harrowing noir first act, cross-cutting with the efforts of Walker back in the big city to dodge the Columbo-like efforts of an unlikely elderly police detective who is inexplicably the very British Charles Coburn (he refers to an impending retirement to justify all this).

Primarily, though act two is chiefly about good old-fashioned small-town American goodness, which redeems Donlevy, despite the Carville-like setting presented just short of cloyingly and with the shadow of big city nastiness hanging over all this normal niceness. There’s a level of Christianity under this section – traditional be-merciful, do-unto-your-neighbor-as-you would-have-them-do-to-you variety. Yup, this is the middle act of a film noir and it works.

Then there’s the third act, of what is an exceptionally long (almost two-hour) noir, where Donlevy does the right thing and comes forward back in Big Town to reveal he’s still alive and that his wife, now facing murder charges, didn’t get the job done. Somehow (beautiful plotting here) this lands him in the pokey facing a murder rap of his own. The third act is sort of a Columbo-tinged 1950s Perry Mason episode.

All this from journeyman director Arthur Lubin, best known for directing Abbott and Costello and Francis the Talking Mule!
It’s the damnedest thing I ever saw, and I loved it.

Here is a very good article on Ella Raines with an interview with her daughter.

Here is an in-depth look at the Hollywood rise and the tragic fall of Helen Walker.

Winchester 73 movie poster

I also watched the Criterion 4K release Winchester 73 (1950), one of the five great westerns James Stewart starred in that Anthony Mann directed. Mann would go on to be a specialist in grand-scale historical epics (The Fall of the Roman Empire, 1964) but came out of Poverty Row films noir, like T-Men (1947) and Raw Deal (1948). The latter films connect well with the noir-ish Stewart westerns.

Stewart is my favorite actor of his era, probably of any era. No one starred in more great films – and I mean great films – than Jimmy Stewart…from his Frank Capra classics to Philadelphia Story (1940), Harvey (1950), Rear Window (1954, Vertigo (1958), Anatomy of a Murder (1959), and The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance (1962). Other gems were sprinkled here and there – Bell, Book and Candle (1958) a particular favorite of mine – but with the Anthony Mann-directed westerns a major part of Stewart’s incredible cinematic legacy.

No other actor has a list to rival James Stewart’s. He wasn’t always good – when the material was spotty, he could be hammy, as in the J. Edgar Hoover valentine, The FBI Story (1959) or if were miscast, as in The Spirit of St. Louis (1957), or was trying to elevate weak material (Thunder Bay, 1953, also Mann).

I mention all this because Winchester 73 is a revenge story, and Stewart displays his dark side, his eyes gleaming as he starts to strangle Dan Duryea. This is the side of Stewart first displayed in It’s a Wonderful Life (1946), the disturbing boiling over of his frustrations in the final quarter of that film. And it comes to a stunning head in Vertigo, which is my favorite film. Number two on my favorites list (right before Chinatown) is Kiss Me Deadly, which brings us to Mickey Spillane.
Are you surprised? Doesn’t almost everything I write about here come back around to Mickey?

Here’s why it does this time: Winchester 73, and several other Stewart/Mann westerns, are revenge tales, and most of the great post-war films among Stewart’s best depict a hero who is touched by madness and rage. The actor who came back changed, even damaged, from war service is not unlike the PTSD-ridden Mike Hammer of those five early Spillane novels. Or for that matter the WW 2 vets who made Spillane the best-selling post-war mystery writer.

Everybody talks about Spillane (when they talk about him at all these days) in terms of sex and violence; but it is the rage, the thirst for revenge, that really drives Mike Hammer in the first five novels, and that is the same engine in Winchester 73, Vertigo and other stellar Stewart (post-war) performances. Interestingly, with the possible exception of The Glenn Miller Story, most of Stewart’s positive salutes to America and the military are minor, even boring things – Thunder Bay, Strategic Air Command (1955), The FBI Story.

Even in Winchester 73, it’s clear Stewart is a (Civil) war veteran come home changed and traumatized. Circling back to Impact, Donlevy is likely a war veteran and his love interest lost her husband in the war. So many of these noirs, so many melodrama movies of the late forties into the early ‘60s, are impacted by the Second World War – the sacrifices and heroism but also the horrors.

I was born in 1948, and I grew up hearing – often in an indirect, undramatic, even nostalgic fashion – stories and indications of that war from my father and other male (and female) relatives. Gen Z has no memory of even this second-hand experience, and the Greatest Generation is mostly gone now – so why should we expect Gen Z to remember something they never experienced?

This brings me, inevitably, to my own work. We are a month away from the final Mike Hammer novel, Baby, It’s Murder, becoming available. You can order it from Amazon or Barnes & Noble or wherever you like to buy books right now. And True Noir, my ten-episode adaptation of the first Nate Heller novel, True Detective, directed by the fantastic Robert Meyer Burnett, is also available for order now (it’s in progress – the first five episodes are available and the rest will drop on a weekly basis).

So from Mike Hammer we go to Nate Heller, the detective of mine who is involved in real historical crimes and mysteries. Those of you (and this includes me) who were not alive in the early ‘30s can experience it through this immersive audio drama…and from my books, which cover most of the rest of the 20th Century.

I advise sampling some of Jimmy Stewart’s best movies, to any of you Gen Z saplings out there, as not a bad move.

M.A.C.

More Thoughts on Collaboration

Tuesday, January 28th, 2025

Recently I discussed the benefits of collaboration in broad strokes – that working with another writer on a story or novel can create a synergy that turns two plus two into five. This requires a meeting of the minds and a compatibility between two creative forces that doesn’t always happen. It’s a kind of marriage. You gotta gell.

I’ve been very lucky in this regard with the likes of Terry Beatty, Dave Thomas and Matt Clemens, among a few others.

Collaboration on a film set is a much different animal. The social element is something I find refreshing, as someone who has worked in a solitary fashion for many years. Actors and film crews bring their considerable talents to bear in helping me mount a production from a script of mine – they often improve upon that script. I would say they usually do.


Alisabeth Von Presley and Paula Sands at the premiere of Death by Fruitcake in which they appear as Brandy and Vivian Borne, shown with Sushi. Watch for it late this year!

Phil Dingeldein and Chad Bishop are key players in my (apparently) ongoing return to indie filmmaking. Robert Meyer Burnett has worked closely with me as he directs my script for True Noir, our immersive ten-chapter audio adaptation of True Detective (episode five just dropped!). That project is very film-like as an experience – making an elaborate, large-cast “movie for the mind.”

I’m sure the need to create something in collaboration with others has a lot to do with why I stayed involved with playing in my bands the Daybreakers, Crusin’ and Seduction of the Innocent. Frustrations and head-butting ensues, yes, but the sum total is worthwhile and, frankly, fun.

What I neglected to talk about, in regard to writing fiction with a collaborator, is how the process works. Frankly, it can work several ways – more than several. But my process is usually that the plot and themes are mostly worked out in advance, and the other writer takes a pass at a chapter (or short story), or a complete draft, and I take the second pass, basically working as a supremely intrusive editor (the kind of person I hate when I’m writing on my own – copy editors have often been subject of my displeasure…so there’s an irony here).

My longest and arguably most successful collaboration has been with Barb, my wife of a hundred years or so. The most infuriating thing about Barb to other writers is when they learn she grew up having no interest whatsoever in becoming a writer. That dream held by so many was nothing she ever experienced.

Basically, she put a toe into the water at my request when Terry Beatty and I needed help on the back-up feature (“Mike Mist”) in the Ms. Tree comic books. Initially she wrote scripts and later, to save Terry two pages of art per issue, short stories. What they used to call “filler” in Golden Age and Silver Age comic books.

She was almost irritatingly good at it. I was a tad surprised, but not really, because she had been my in-house editor from the start and displayed an innate feel for storytelling. Her inspirations were the Alfred Hitchcock Presents TV series (particularly episodes based on Roald Dahl short stories) and Nancy Drew novels. She was not an avid reader (although she is a big reader of non-fiction now, particularly biographies).

I have said before that if I had been a brain surgeon, Barb would have become one, too, just picking it up being around me. That certainly seems to be the case with fiction writing.

Her process, whether she’s writing with me or on a solo project (she did many short stories alone before we began working on the Trash ‘n’ Treasures Antiques series together) is slow and steady. Fastidious. She is a long distance runner and I am a sprinter. I write quickly and revise as I go, having been working at fiction writing since junior high; she works and re-works her draft before turning it over to me.

Our process is discussing and loosely plotting a novel together, often over a dining-out meal or a car trip, and usually we come up with a title (sometimes she comes up with it, sometimes I do, but we have to agree it’s a good one). Then she sets out alone and works for six months or so on a somewhat short (250 – 275-page) draft.

She then turns her draft over to me, and I take under a month on my draft, generally, and expand the novel to 300 to 325 pages. These are double-spaced pages. She reads my chapters as I go, gives notes, finds typos, and I make the corrections and revisions before I start the next chapter. She rarely gives me a bad time about changes and expansions I make, claiming to be sick of the book by the time she hands it over to me. She gives me remarkable freedom in my rewrite, mostly just making sure I am not doing damage to the plot, because I don’t read her entire manuscript before starting my revision.

That may seem counter-intuitive, because you would think I’d want to read the thing before starting to revise it. But that doesn’t work for me. Back when I did read Barb’s draft first, I would start rewriting it in my head, immediately, making notes and getting bogged down. I do better just digging in. Also, because we plotted it so long before, I seldom remember who the murderer is. So that means, as I do my draft, I’m in the dark with the reader, which is a good thing. If I can guess who did it too early, we have some carpentry to do.


Barb and Max Allan Collins at the Death by Fruitcake premiere with Sushi. Their Antiques series come to life!

Collaborations work a lot of ways. This is our process. I don’t recommend it as a method, because every writer and every writing team must find their own method, their own process. It may work for you, it may not. Our way accommodates Barb’s pace and my pace, which are (as I’ve said) radically different.

It does work for us. I’m very proud of the Antiques novels, and my contribution to them, although Barb is very much the lead writer. The Trash ‘n’ Treasures series has more entries than any other series of mine – it has enjoyed the longest run with some of the best reviews any project I’m associated with has ever received.

I think it’s fair to say that Barb couldn’t do these books alone and neither could I. Either of us could write an entry in the series, but neither of us could write an entry as good as our team could do. It is indeed synergy.

What’s the secret? First, we each respect the other writer. Second, we stay of each other’s way. I don’t look over her shoulder while she’s writing her draft, and she gives me all the room I need to write mine.

Also, her office is on the first floor of our house, and mine is on the second.

M.A.C.

Ms. Tree Gets Her Due

Tuesday, January 21st, 2025

Paperback: Bookshop Purchase Link
E-Book: Google Play

Paperback: Bookshop Purchase Link
E-Book: Google Play

At the Reading Is Fun, Not Mental website, “TL” wrote this terrific Ms. Tree – Heroine Withdrawal review, the fifth of the six Ms. Tree collections from Titan.

Ms. Tree – Heroine Withdrawal (The Fifth Ms. Tree Graphic Novel)

I can never get enough of Ms. Tree. Ever since I picked up that first issue of Ms. Tree’s Thrilling Detective Adventures (which I still love that title, even though I’m aware Ms. Tree’s creators do not – for me, it gave the book a pulp feel, which I think fit the character nicely), I’ve been hooked, and I was devastated when the series eventually ended after years at Eclipse, then Aardvark-Vanheim, then Renegade Press, and finally DC Comics. So, when Titan announced it would be collecting and reprinting the entire run, I was super-excited – sure, I had all the individual issues; but now I would have easy access to reading the stories again and again and again without having to dig through my comic boxes, unseal the bags, and pull out issue after issue to read them. Even though the collections are not telling the stories in order (they reprinted the ten DC issues first, then went back to the beginning to start with the Eclipse issues, before moving on to the AV and Renegade issues – and even those have been told somewhat out of order, collecting them by story relevance and not chronologically), I have absolutely loved curling up in my recliner and walking down memory lane with Ms. Tree, Dan, Effie, and the rest of the gang…

Ms. Tree: Heroine Withdrawal collects issues 18-27 and 29-31 (with the title having officially switched fully to Renegade Press by issue 19). These are some of my favorite issues, as they deal with Ms. Tree’s final confrontation with Dominic Muerta and the aftermath – as well as a two-part story that dealt with the topical issue of abortion. This is some of Max Allan Collins’ best writing in the series, as they give the readers a real sense of why Ms. Tree is who she is and why the world (well, her fictional world, anyway) needs a Ms. Tree in it. It’s also extremely character driving, as most of the series is anyway – but these issues in particular give readers a greater understanding of not just Ms. Tree, but also many of the supporting characters. Plus, we get our introduction to Dominique Muerta (gotta love Collins’ play on names in this series), who turns out to be a wonderful frenemy for our favorite gun-toting crime-fighter!

“Muerta Means Death,” the four-issue story that runs through issues 18, 19, 20, and 21, provides readers with a very satisfying conclusion to Ms. Tree’s vendetta against the man who had her husband killed. The title has a double meaning, since the word “muerta” is actually the Spanish word for “dead,” and at the same time, it refers to the fact that Dominic Muerta is a killer, and if you cross him, you die. I suppose it could also have a third meaning, since in the story, we learn Muerta has cancer and is on his death bed – and when Dan Green comes back to work (with a hook in place of the hand he lost in the explosion set by Muerta’s men in a previous story), he’s all set to take revenge on Muerta. It all gets confusing when Dan goes to Muerta’s house prepared to kill him – and when Ms. Tree and the police get there, they find Dan just waking up in the same room where Muerta and his nurse are both dead! Dan swears he did not do it, and Ms. Tree sets about proving his innocence. The story takes a few surprising twists, with the final one giving Ms. Tree the satisfaction she has been seeking – definitely a great read, and for astute readers (who have become accustomed to Collins’ playing with names), Muerta’s attorney, Dimitri A. Dopler, should give you a huge clue as to one of the biggest secrets in this story!

Following this big payoff, Collins gives readers a few shorter stories – the first being “Right to Die,” which addresses the issue of abortion and readers find out that Ms. Tree had an abortion when she was younger, an act she regrets now that Mike Tree is dead, and the only child she could have had with him is gone. The story addresses the issue without straying into preaching which side of the issue is “right” – instead, the story focuses on how various people deal with abortion and the doctors who perform the procedures. It has a sad ending, and let’s just say there are no real winners in this one – especially for Ms. Tree, as her actions in this story have serious repercussions…

Leading into the next two-parter, “Prisoner Cell Block Hell,” in which Ms. Tree does time in a women’s prison (with all the standard stereotypes you’d expect to see), and Ms. Tree has to face someone coming after her – after all, as the saying goes, the past always has a way of catching back up to you. After unveiling some very corrupt prison guards, Ms. Tree then gets transferred to a psychiatric facility in the two-part “Heroine Withdrawal.” For those who remember the very first Ms. Tree story in her own comic (after her origin in Eclipse Magazine), Ms. Tree has a reason to be wary of psychiatrists – and for good reason!. Only this time around, she manages to reveal the unscrupulous actions of a nurse and orderly, as well as a high-powered politician! And she makes a new friend who may or may not have been taken by aliens (let’s just say Collins leaves it up to the reader to decide at the end of the story…)

This collection concludes with the three-issue tale, “The Other Cheek,” which introduces us to a newly reformed Ms. Tree who has completed her psychiatric care and has decided to walk away from all of the violence, not even carrying a gun any more. This, of course, forces all of those who work with her – including Effie! – to step up their game, because when it comes to Ms. Tree, danger is never far away. It’s not until her stepson, Mike (named after his father), is kidnapped that Ms. Tree realizes she has no choice, and she throws off the new persona and steps back into the shoes she was made to fill – that of a female vigilante who fights for justice, and always wins! One thing I thought was a great choice for Beatty in this story (and I don’t know if it was his idea, or if Collins told him to do it), but I loved the fact that “reformed” Ms. Tree dressed so much differently – even wearing flower-print dresses! But when she goes back to her old self to rescue Mike, she once again dons that blue overcoat that give her such distinctive style! It makes for a nice visual aid to her change in character back and forth.

With only one more collection go to complete the reproduction of the entire run of Ms. Tree, I hope the sales on these collections have been such that Collins and Beatty will consider telling some more stories. With all of the controversies in the news today, they would literally have a plethora of topics to pick from to create some great tales! And who knows? Maybe they could even age the characters, so that Mike (her stepson) could be old enough to work along side her – what a story that would be! Any way you say it, we definitely need MORE MS. TREE!!!!!!

Rating: 10 old-fashioned dynamite bombs out of 10 for some truly dynamite story-telling, masterful twists and surprises, and some of the best artwork you will ever see in a comic! What more could you want?

When I read a review like this, two things come to mind: how wonderful! And, “Where were people like you when we were doing this title in the ‘80s and ‘90s”?

Terry Beatty and I began Ms. Tree as what we thought of as an exercise in coherence. Comic-book art was getting very complex and even impenetrable, and I wanted to return to the EC-style Johnny Craig school (derived from classic comic strips, chiefly by Milton Caniff) and Terry was wholeheartedly on board.

We’d been invited by Dean Mullaney to be part of his Eclipse magazine, which had a lot of top comics creators contributing new potential series. Also included in the mix were Terry and me. While Terry and I had done several projects together, we were only in this heady company because Dean was a Dick Tracy fan and I’d attracted some nice attention in the field when I took over the writing of that strip from creator Chester Gould in December 1977.

My basic concept was “Velda and Mike Hammer finally get married, and Hammer gets murdered on their wedding night and Velda takes over the PI agency…and seeks revenge.” I believe I pitched it off the top of my head when the surprise phone-call invitation came from Dean.

Another surprising thing happened after that: we were the dark-horse hit of the magazine and got spun off into our own comic book. Thanks to Dean, and later Dave Sim, Deni Loubert and Mike Gold, we continued through four publishers, ultimately DC. We had several movie options, and I did a little indie film, Real Time: Siege at Lucas Street Market, based on a Ms. Tree prose story of mine, although we were in the midst of a movie option at the time and I had to change Ms. Tree’s name. But the character Brinke Stevens played was as close, to date, of Ms. Tree coming to life on screen. Brinke did a great job on our $10,000 (!) movie, which got national distribution (okay, Troma, but that counts).

The glowing review I share here does not reflect the critical response to Ms. Tree back in the day. A lot of folks, including some who liked our comic book series, thought we were crazy doing a crime/mystery comic book in a super-hero world. We probably were, but between me writing Dick Tracy (at the time) and my mystery novels, it made sense to us.

We did get our share of nice notices – we wouldn’t have survived so long if we hadn’t – but we were singled out for withering criticism from some, particularly the Fantagraphics crowd. That got nasty and rather acid on both sides, because Terry and I were both stupid enough to take Gary Groth and company on. It was a no-win situation, and a study of what a suicide note it is to respond to criticism. (Doing so is something I try desperately to avoid, but I still occasionally, misguidedly do. I should not. I hope at this age and stage I have finally learned that lesson.)


Terry Beatty and Max Allan Collins at San Diego Comic Con 1982 (with Cat Yronwode; photo by Alan Light)

Terry and I were a team for a long time. We did Wild Dog as a mini-series followed by a serialized run in Action Comics and one fat little one-shot. We put together a Johnny Dynamite mini-series (collected as a graphic novel) for Dark Horse. And finally I brought Terry into the Road to Perdition fold with the DC graphic novel, Return to Perdition.

During our team-up time, Terry and I had many failed projects, most of them having to do with pitching comic strips to my then-bosses at the Chicago Tribune Syndicate. Our “Comics Page” that we self-syndicated to weekly shoppers was a good idea whose time never came (it ran a struggling year or so).

We also pitched a retro version of Batman to DC that was rejected but (somewhat ironically) was close to what would soon be done on Batman: The Animated Series. I say somewhat ironically because Terry went on be one of the Eisner Award-winning artists on the comic book series inspired by that show. I also worked on Batman, too, mostly a disastrous year-long experience on the monthly comic, although my work on the syndicated comic strip (I was forced off by the Chicago Tribune Syndicate after the first story) and the graphic novel Batman: Child of Dreams (from Kia Asimiya’s manga) were better received by readers and, well, me.

Still, that Terry and I were both on Batman but never together is another unfortunate irony. We did get do Wild Dog for DC, which generated a character featured on the Arrow TV show (which I never bothered to watch) (and had to complain to get paid).

Another irony is that Terry and I both wound up doing something apart that we’d long tried to do together. When Dick Tracy artist Rick Fletcher passed away, I tried to get the Tribune syndicate to use Terry as my artist. They turned him down, despite samples that pleased me very much. And we suggested, and submitted samples (initially well-received), for a reboot of the Little Orphan Annie comic strip, taking advantage of the Broadway show’s success. We were ultimately turned down, but the great Leonard Starr was enlisted to do the re-boot we’d suggested.

So when “TL” above suggests Terry and I should do more Ms. Tree, the irony (there’s that word again) is that Terry is now too busy as he’s a successful writer/artist in the syndicated comic strip field. After a run on The Phantom Sunday page, Terry moved over to handling the Rex Morgan, MD, comic strip, where he has done and is doing a fine job.

Prior to that we’d kicked around reviving Ms. Tree. It was what held up the Titan archival reprint series of the original comics – we wanted to launch that reprint series with a new graphic novel. But that never came together, although I did some preliminary work.

The silver lining here is that Titan – thank you Nick Landau and Vivian Cheung – has collected the more-or-less complete Ms. Tree in six beautifully produced volumes, in all their color and two-color glory (a long run of Ms. Tree employed one color in various shades, to create a noir feel…and save money). I say “more or less” because a few odds-and-ends haven’t been gathered in these books, and those leftovers weren’t sufficient for another volume to be produced.

I haven’t talked about it here, at least not very much, but getting the complete run gathered in archival volumes, with Terry very much supervising, has been a goal I’ve long hoped Ms. Tree could reach. Terry and I put a great deal of hard work and love for the genre into Ms. Tree, for over a decade, and now it exists in more enduring format.

I will add that someone recently wrote in to my pal Robert Meyer Burnett on his fine YouTube show, Robservations, that someone should do a graphic-novel version of our Nathan Heller audio series, True Noir (based on Heller’s debut, True Detective. The talent suggested for the job (not by Rob!) were current crime-comics favorites, like Ed Brubaker. Nothing against Ed, but I think I could put any interested publisher in touch the (wait for it) writer of a fairly well-regarded graphic novel, Road to Perdition.

M.A.C.