GENRE APPEAL

How long have you been a crime film fan?

“Like many men who came back from the big war, my father was a fan of hardboiled films and westerns. I saw many of the noirs that interest us today when they were first released, but I was too young to understand them.”

Do you recall the first such film you saw, and its initial impact on you?

“I saw Kiss Me Deadly at the drive-in with my folks. I was 10 or 11. That jolted me in a way no movie ever had. Not only the violence, but the whole aura of decay and despair. I had no idea what was really going on, but it scared and depressed me.”

What appeals to you about the noir/crime genres?

“Different things in different movies. My two favorite noir actors are Robert Ryan and Dana Andrews. I feel a kinship with them in a way I never have with Bogart as a noir icon (though I like him very much in movies such as The Harder They Fall). To me, they’re two sides of the same coin — the outsider. Ryan is rage and Andrews is grief. As for types of noir films, too many to mention here. I suppose the sense of desperation is what appeals to me. I’ve always felt that to some degree.”

THE HARDER THEY FALL

Have these films influenced your development as a novelist?

“Oh, sure. My worldview is very much like theirs.”

Do you try and evoke a kind of cinematic atmosphere and narrative drive in your work?

“Reviewers say I do, but I’m not conscious of it.”

What do you think accounts for our attraction to the violent characters and dark environments of these films?

“To me, it’s simple. Thugs and street violence have been with us since the beginning of our country. And robber barons in one form or another have also always been with us. Look at Wall Street. Look at the Bush administration. And then we have the Mafia. Crooks are a vital part of noir. Greed, power, the exploitation of the weak and poor — these are the themes of the great noirs. As is (as novelist Alan Guthrie pointed out) abnormal psychology. Half the characters in The Maltese Falcon belong on the violent ward. Gun Crazy is a salute to insanity. Psycho, which to me is noir, is certainly not a portrait of a young man pursuing any American Dream I know of, except maybe that of Jeffrey Dahmer.”

Which crime film decade do you most identify with?

“The forties.”

Can you list some of your favorite crime films through the decades?

“1930s, Little Caesar; 1940s, High Sierra; 1950s, Gun Crazy; 1960s, Point Blank; 1970s, Chinatown. These aren’t necessarily my favorite films, but they had, I think, enormous influence on what came after.”

What did the performers in these films bring to the genre that’s lacking today?

“They seemed more adult somehow. It may be my age (and my perception of callowness isn’t limited to movies), but celebrities don’t seem to have the same adult presence some of the older actors did. High Sierra is a good example. I don’t think anybody could lend it the power Bogie did. He was a grownup whose dreams had been dashed. That’s different from a thirty-something’s dreams being dashed. Maybe only because [Bogart’s character] was closer to the end. The same with The Harder They Fall. Or if you want to look at a thirty-some-year-old, look at Dana Andrews in Laura and Where The Sidewalk Ends.”

Any favorite noir directors?

“I just watched Kiss Me Deadly again, so I’d say Robert Aldrich. I think he gave us noir as the holocaust.”

Have you encountered any worthy neo-noirs in the last decade or so?

“I’d put One False Move up against any of the classic noirs. I think it’s a masterpiece.”

How do neo-noirs differ from those of the “classic” period?

“I think too many of them are too studied, too aware of being noirs. In the old days they just told stories and let them fall into whatever genre they fit.”

Thoughts on Tarantino’s films?

“I liked Pulp Fiction a lot.”

SUBTEXT

Crime films once contained rich veins of visual subtext. In Point Blank, for example, the way Lee Marvin is filmed striding through the Los Angeles airport en route to dealing with his unfaithful wife says more in its imagery and sound than reams of dialog. Why don’t crime films do that anymore?

“There isn’t any reason it can’t be done as long as you have the director, script and actor that film had. But that entire movie worked against the prevailing clichés. The Caroll O’Connor mobster role, for instance. He was wonderful. He’s a rich, busy guy, and who’s this dimwit son of a bitch waving a gun at him over what is — for O’Connor — chump change. The gun doesn’t scare him, he’s just irritated at the stupidity of Marvin. Wonderful stuff. Today the neo-noirs are too conscious of being neo-noirs to let themselves go to that degree.”

Would you agree that crime pictures have generally been more subversive and challenging than so-called “socially responsible” pictures? I’m thinking for example of the implied homosexuality between Glenn Ford and George McCready in Gilda, and the explicit linkages between organized crime and big business in Underworld U.S.A.

“Pretty much. I grew up in the last decade of studio power. Big studio pictures were always considered the respectable, worthwhile ones to see. I’m sure that there were A pictures that had a lot of hidden elements, just as crime pictures did. But certainly crime pictures thrived on bending if not breaking the rules.”

What’s your take on the 1970s political thrillers that captured a national mood of distrust and paranoia like The Conversation or The Parallax View?

“I recently saw The Parallax View, and for me it was a terrible, clumsy movie with a ham-fisted performance by Warren Beatty and a number of risible scenes. On the other hand, I consider The Conversation great true art.”

The current era would seem ripe for similar kinds of films, but we’re not seeing them. Any thoughts on this?

“I do think their absence is strange. But maybe we’re in one of those terrible historical periods when fiction just can’t compete with reality.”

Do you think crime films are still informed with a sense of social/political criticism?

“I always go to One False Move. This is about crimes that average people are faced with — and more importantly, these are the scumbags who commit those crimes. No romance here. Police blotter reality. And all the sad lives caught up in the violence. I rarely see any of these things in today’s crime movies.”

Do you have any thoughts on how the crime film has developed in other countries —Japanese yakuza films, Italian crime epics, French existentialist thrillers or gritty British pictures like Get Carter and The Long Good Friday?

“I can only speak to the original Get Carter and The Long Good Friday, both of which I consider superior to most American crime films.”

SCREEN VIOLENCE

What’s your take on how screen violence has evolved over the decades?

“Well, screen sex and violence were liberated at about the same time, the late 1960s. Sometimes both are useful in creating themes and revealing character — and having singular oh, wow! moments — but there’s so damned much violence in films and on TV that I think we’re pretty much indifferent to its effects.”

What does that say, if anything, about the evolution of American society?

“There is such a thing as the pornography of violence, and I think a segment of the viewing public is into that. Peckinpah was a genius; his violence hurt you both physically and spiritually. His disciples understand the physicality of it, but I’m not sure about the spirituality. Once again, One False Move, the opening six minutes. Those frames are indelibly etched on my mind and soul. Terrifying, senseless, insane violence done as realistically as I’ve ever seen violence done on the screen. Violence akin to 20-year-old street punks beating up 90-year-olds for their food stamps. Again, the kind of violence a lot of Americans face every day. This kind of screen violence is doing what literature, minor or major, almost always does, which is to report, however painfully, on one’s own historical era.”

Do you buy the argument that there’s a link between reel violence and real-life violence?

“I think there probably is, but not the way congressional committees think the two are related. I’m sure screen violence has given blueprints to any number of killers. But I think generally screen violence just blends in with all the violence on the news. Though I have to say I’ve seen some video games that give me pause. There’s a juvenile fascination with killing that seems to connect with sexuality somehow. And juvenile also applies to the 50-year-olds who buy them.”

Do you buy the notion that watching screen violence can have a positive, cathartic effect?

“For some, yes, I suppose.”

Film violence in decades past was often utilized to delineate character; now it seems that most films merely indulge in violence for its own sake. Have we lost sight of character amidst all the non-stop action pyrotechnics?

“That’s one of things I meant by the pornography of violence.”

Do you think that people are still capable of being shocked by anything they see onscreen?

“I suppose a realistic-looking decapitation with the camera in close might shock people. Short of that, I don’t know what’s left. And that’ll probably be on a reality show next year — Don’t Lose Your Head.”

What’s your take on the John Woo-inspired bullet ballet type of film?

“I’m a big John Woo fan. The ballet sequences are sensational. And he has a very civilized point of view, a conscious moral sensibility operating in his films.”

NOVEL TO SCREEN

Your novel The Poker Club has been adapted for the screen and is now in post-production. Were you involved in the writing and/or production?

“Haven’t seen any of it and had nothing to do with writing or production. The first script I saw I liked very much.”

Have you seen a cut of the film yet?

“Sorry.”

Is this the first novel of yours to reach the screen?

“I ghosted a book that became The Haunted on Fox. They did a good job.”

What’s the most important factor screenwriters should consider when adapting crime novels for the screen?

“I’m not a screenwriter and not savvy enough to answer that.”

Are there certain noir/crime novelists whose work is more suited for film adaptations?

“Oh, sure. Shorter books rather than longer books. Books that come with high concepts or at least merchandisable hooks. Books that break roughly into three acts. Linear storylines. Strong characters. Humor never hurts. Things like that. Donald Westlake, Charles Williams, David Goodis … major writers, to name just three. Westlake’s ingenuity makes him especially good for films.”

What qualities do the best crime novels and films have in common?

“I’d say character and a sense of era, getting down on paper or on film an entertaining but enlightening statement about the time you’re living in — the fears, hopes, idiocies, etc. Look at the Warner Bros films set in the time of Prohibition.”

It’s interesting to compare how violence is expressed in two films made from Richard Stark’s novel The Hunter. In Point Blank, the use of violence is clever and darkly comic: In one scene Marvin shoots a telephone to intimidate mob chief Carroll O’Connor. But in Payback, which starred Mel Gibson, the violence seems protracted, gratuitous and anything but subtle. Comment?

“I think Point Blank is one of the best crime films of all time. I found Payback tedious. And you explained why.”

What’s your take on Peckinpah’s The Getaway, which jettisoned the nightmarish conclusion of Jim Thompson’s novel in favor of a happy ending for stars Steve McQueen and Ali McGraw?

“I liked The Getaway, though it’s an imperfect film, certainly not helped by the ending. I thought Alec Baldwin was a better match for Thompson, though. There’s a rage and craziness and desperation there. He isn’t worried about being the cool guy the way McQueen did. That’s the sweaty essence of Thompson men.”

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Ed Gorman on ten Crime Novel Adaptations

Kiss Me Deadly (1955) Based on Mickey Spillane’s eponymous novel: “The ultimate horror film. The end of the world. I never get tired of watching it.”

Touch of Evil (1958) Based on Whit Masterson’s Badge of Evil: “Gothic noir. A fine, fine film.”

Cape Fear (1962) Based on John D. McDonald’s The Executioners: “The ultimate Gold Medal novel brought to the screen by people who knew exactly what they were doing. Mitchum’s performance is unequaled in noir villainy.”

Harper (1966) Based on Ross McDonald’s The Moving Target: “Good film that for some reason didn’t interest me much.”

HARPER

In Cold Blood

(1967) Based on Truman Capote’s eponymous book: “Solid, but I think the performances are better than the script and the direction.”

In the Heat of the Night (1967) Based on John Ball’s eponymous novel: “See my comments on Harper.”

Point Blank (1967) Based on Donald Westlake’s The Hunter: “Five stars plus.”

Cotton Comes to Harlem (1970) Based on Chester Himes’ eponymous novel: “Didn’t work for me. I wanted Himes’ madness.”

Get Carter (1971) Based on Ted Lewis’ Jack’s Return Home: “Six stars plus.”

The Getaway (1972) Based on Jim Thompson’s eponymous novel: “Three stars. Probably four if they hadn’t let McQueen call so many of the shots. That’s always been the word on that picture.”