Touch of Evil

Spoiler alert-o-meter: 53-year-old spoilers ahead.

Movies used to be designed, shot, and edited to be viewed on a movie screen. Today, movies seem to be made to be watched on decidedly smaller screens. Evidence of this is reflected in the faster cutting within scenes and the generally manic, disjointed nature of most Hollywood movies.

Have you ever gone to a movie with lots of action and fast cutting and stumbled out of the theater in a daze, thinking the movie made no sense? That’s because your eyes couldn’t adjust to each new shot before it was replaced by the next one. On a movie screen, your eye moves around the screen to discern the focus of each shot. On a TV screen, laptop monitor, or a miniature iPad/iPod screen you basically stare at one point in space and let a movie’s narrative shuffle on by without you having to scan around and get your grip on the action. In other words, the action comes to you – mainlined you could say – without you having to think much about it.

So, watching an old movie on the big screen comes as something of a revelation, a shock, no matter what movie you’re watching. To see an Orson Welles movie, it’s even more thrilling. Screened at the Capital Theater in Arlington (DVD projection, not a 35 mm print), Touch of Evil crackles with Welles' signature deep focus composition, wide angles, meaningfully cluttered shots (what the film students used to call mise-en-scène), and voices overlapping on a soundtrack often dubbed in post production.

It's a film noir fever dream. Probably the last movie to be considered noir as it came out in 1958 at the end of the era, it showcases the classic noir elements of vivid black and white cinematography, on-location photography, and cynical characters. In Touch of Evil we've got corrupt, racist border town cop Hank Quinlan (Orson Welles) who has been dealing dirty all his life.

Touch of Evil chronicles Quinlan's downfall over the course of one day, as he attempts to bring down up-and-coming Mexican do-gooder cop Miguel (Mike to you) Vargas. Vargas is played by Charlton Heston with his signature Hest-rionics dialed down to about a four. Or maybe it just seems that way playing the straight man to Welles' Quinlan, a festering, bloated recovering alcoholic who seals his own fate when he falls off the wagon and implicates himself at the scene of a crime by leaving his cane behind.

Then there's Dennis Weaver as a motel clerk who...I can't explain it, but Heston's performance is nuanced and subtle compared to Weaver's. His character inspiration comes from one of those little dogs who pants and trots and whose eyes belie an internal terror. Mr. Weaver here invents the term manic. He overacts to such a degree that I wanted to extricate him from the movie and plunk him down into some Three Stooges flick.

Elsewhere there's Janet Leigh. Leigh plays Susan, Vargas' very blond wife. Vargas and Susan are newlyweds just trying leave for a honeymoon, but their reverie is interrupted by a double murder at the border crossing. While Vargas remains sidetracked investigating, Susan is kidnapped and brought out to the remote motel that employs Weaver’s clueless night man. Meanwhile, Vargas witnesses Quinlan frame a young Mexican man for the double murder and this sends him on a righteous crusade to bring Quinlan down.

Welles directs Touch of Evil like his life depended on it. He stages a virtuosic, uninterrupted opening crane shot that lasts about 3 and a half minutes ending in a car explosion (the double murder). He starts a scene with a close up of two shot glasses atop a bar, then follows them getting walked to a nearby table as the camera moves back to frame the rest of the bar. What other director would do this in one shot? None director.

Welles puts the camera on the hood of a car and lets Charlton Heston and Mort Mills (as an assistant DA) drive through a street no wider than an alley at high speeds instead of shooting a cheesy rear screen projection. A good noir doesn't just show you the dirt, it pushes your face in it. Touch of Evil is dusty and oily from tequila and hopped up on MaryJane and doesn't shy from seedy whore houses and garbage-filled canals.

Many familiar faces pepper the movie, including Zsa Zsa Gabor as a showgirl and Marlene Dietrich as a madame, who's worth seeing for some great dialogue ("He was some kind of a man... What does it matter what you say about people?"). Then some actors who worked often with Welles, including Joseph Cotton, Akim Tamiroff, and Ray Collins.

If you rent the DVD, ensure it's the most recent version, which has been restored to Welles' original specs after Universal took the film from him, recut it, and even reshot some of it with another director. This latest version was reconstructed based on Welles' notes. There's so much to like in this lost classic, that I won't give away any more details. Just rent it, and enjoy. And if you get a chance to watch it projected on a movie screen, so much the better.

Here's the famous opening crane shot:

Stats:

Theater location: Capital Theater, Arlington, Sunday, February 20th, 3:15 matinee. Price $7.00. Viewed with Liz. Snacks--RJ's Raspberry Licorice Log.

Coming Attractions:

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Book Review: The Big Bad, by Phil Beloin, Jr.

The Big Bad, the debut crime novel by Phil Beloin, Jr., is a lean, crude, fun ride. The novel is populated with stoolies, pornographers, redneck hitmen, alcoholics, necrophiliacs, ex pro-hockey drug dealers, ex-cons, and more hitmen. In the deft hands of Mr. Beloin, this motley crew is presented as an almost endearing bunch of screw-ups. They talk tough and act crazy, but they’re also human, with humbling foibles and recognizable tics.

When we first meet The Big Bad’s anti-hero, bar owner Nick Constantine, he’s a quiet alcoholic who just wants to live a semi-secluded, non-productive life above the seedy bar he owns, in a boring mid-sized city, in the middle of Connecticut. He’s a former strong arm for Irv Marquette, a pro hockey player turned full-time drug dealer. Nick’s done some bad stuff to bad people in the past. Now he lives on the payday earned when he turned state’s witness—a move that sent Irv to prison for tax evasion.

While Nick never claims to be a Rhodes Scholar—constantly in a cloud when faced with any big word or concept—he’s smart enough to keep his bar unsuccessful so he can write it off as a tax deduction. It’s a small point that illustrates Beloin’s use of dichotomy; he never misses a chance to turn a cliché on its head—either for a laugh or to add some depth or twists to the proceedings.

The story gets its kick start when Nick wakes from a bender with two beautiful young blondes sleeping in his bed. He can’t remember how they got there. It’s a great hook. Probably one of the most effective classic pulp fiction plot devices. After making sweet love to the closest blonde, it dawns on Nick that these lovely ladies aren’t just wicked hungover, they’re dead. It’s a ballsy move, putting necrophilia in the first chapter of a debut novel. But it’s Beloin’s warning shot to the reading public: “Join me on this funny/wacked journey or close the book now and miss out.”

Irv, now out of prison, gets some dirt on Nick—video footage of the dead girls in his apartment. He blackmails Nick into finding his lovely virginal girlfriend, Pamela, who has run off without a trace. Nick has no choice but to take the assignment. He hasn’t played enforcer in a while, and the fun of the novel is seeing this lug forced to rediscover his dusty wits and survival instincts to outsmart the bad guys, even while smoking three packs a day and drinking beer morning, noon, and night.

Marbled throughout are anachronistic details which call into relief the history of crime fiction, used not as crutches but as motifs, tapping into the reader’s conscious (or subconscious) history of the genre. Poor people live in ghettos and slums. Nick drives a Delta. The source of blackmail evidence is footage on a VHS videotape. It’s all very 1940s, 1970s, or 1990s, depending on the scene.

The characterizations also mix old and new. Nick talks and thinks like a classic tough guy but he’s also misanthropic, homophobic, and sexist. He’s a reflection of contemporary fears and worries; he’s not really searching with a moral compass because he never had one. He may have a code of honor like some honorable Western outlaw, but it’s never articulated.

To any God-fearing normal, he’s the personification of moral turpitude—a one-man melting pot of addiction, hatred, bad moves, quiet rage, and lethal training. We still somehow root for Nick because he has the capacity to recognize the bad in very bad men. He’s part classic detective out of Dashiell Hammett, part James M. Cain everyman making bad choices for the wrong reasons, and homage to the psychotic screwups that pepper Jim Thompson’s grittiest tomes. Yet he can still fall in love and care for his cat.

Many of the characters are sensitive in unexpected ways that transcend boilerplate: Irv’s a stone cold drug dealer, but he’s still insecure about Pam—like an adolescent worried sick over his crush liking him back; Irv’s bodyguard, Michelle, is quick with a semi automatic, but she also had to overcome an abusive father; Eddie, the pornographer Pam has connections to, is an Iraq war vet who can’t get it up.

Nick eventually tracks Pam down at a remote cabin above a picturesque lake. But don’t let the beautiful countryside fool you. It is here that Nick uncovers the truth about Pam and how she has been playing Irv for a fool.

Beloin shines during the inevitable shootouts and double-crosses. He expertly paces his scenes of kinetic violence at the cabin and in the nearby barn and woods, letting adrenaline-fueled momentum and lean description ramp up the tension. The final showdowns feel liberating; they read like a prose version of a violent Sam Peckinpaw film mixed with the diabolical glee of Roger Corman’s ruthless Depression era crime spree flick Bloody Mama.

Don’t miss out on Phil Beloin, Jr.’s wacked, wickedly funny revisionist crime novel The Big Bad, available at Amazon.com. Read my interview with Phil over at Beyond the Margins, where he talks about his interest in crime fiction, how movies and TV influence his writing, and follow links to read some of his stories online.

2009: The Year in Stuff, Part 1

This end-of-year post isn't late, just well thought-out. What follows are synopses of books and graphic novels read and TV shows discovered in 2009. (Stay tuned for part 2: music and movies, and stuff that made me go Meh.)

Books

The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao. Many of the comic and gaming culture references leaped over my head, but Junot Diaz' story of a depressed, bull-headed, outcast who finds love with the very woman he should run from, is a sumptuous, heady look at one of the most unusual but vivid characters introduced in the aughts.

Mohawk. Richard Russo's tender, tough, surprising first novel vivisects the underpinnings and undoings of a small upper New York town at the end of its industrial era. A fading town, seething secrets, longing, and lust. Half-way through Russo tosses his characters in a cup, shakes them up, then jumps them a couple years ahead. I never knew what was coming, and that's all you can ask of a good read. The prose sometimes smacks of mid-80s work shopping, but is never dull.

Lost City Radio. A thinly-veiled look at contemporary Peru filtered through the story of an unnamed South American city. Daniel Alarcon's odyssey follows Norma, host of a radio program called Lost City Radio, who helps citizens find their relatives lost to jungle wars and political unrest. When her own husband goes missing, boy comes into her life who she thinks can help her uncover the truth. Harrowing, tender, and unforgettable.

2666. The paperback came out in 2009, although I already had the boxed set from 2008. I’m only partially through book four of six, the part about the crimes, but already 2666 is the opus that everyone claims. Richer and looser than The Savage Detectives, Bolano, in his final written work, leads the reader through hundreds of vignettes to shape a tapestry of yearning, forward motion, and loss.


The bravado of the prose is so grounded it keeps you reading even through descriptions of dozens of murders of women in the fictional northern Mexican city of Santa Teresa. And who is this mysterious writer named Archimboldi that a passel of critics are trying to track down? And why does his trail lead them to Santa Teresa?

Revolutionary Road. Stark, honest, naked, vicious. With this portrait of a young couple in the New York suburbs, Richard Yates rewrote the rules for how married characters think and act in literature. A glorious achievement that I will probably reread every few years to remind myself what writers are capable of. A template for how to construct a novel, and how to reveal layers.

Last Night at the Lobster. Stewart O'Nan's portrait of a snow-bound Red Lobster franchise during its last shift before shutting down. The day evolves in crisp detail through the point of view of Manny, the 35 year old restaurant manager. It's a novella, so there's no time for back story or flashbacks. This book doesn't need them. O'Nan clearly presents Manny's longing for a coworker while he simultaneously struggles to buy the perfect Christmas gift for his girlfriend. Quietly hopeful, and full of longing, small betrayals, and loves, this little Lobster delivers big (pull-quote of the year folks! I got a million of 'em).

Graphic Novels
Noir. An anthology of illustrated crime stories in stark but effective black and white, Noir brings together many wonderful contemporary storytellers working different angles of noir. Contributors include Ed Brubaker, Kano, David Lapham, Ken Lizzi, and novelist Chris Offutt. Here we have straight up crime stories of hitmen, kidnappings, robberies, and other shady dealings. Entertaining and thrilling, Noir packs small, lethal punches.


Filthy Rich. Set in 1960s New Jersey and Manhattan, Filthy Rich is a story of how an ex high school football star nicknamed Junk becomes the bodyguard/chaperone to the daughter of a powerful Jersey used car dealer. An assignment for which nothing good can come. Written by Brian Azzarello (also a contributor to Noir) with art by Victor Santos, Filthy Rich is a frenetic, sometimes elliptical tale supported by stylized black and white illustrations of tough brutes with square jaws, hot dames with soft lines, hard hearts, and big boobs. Nice retro feel to the dialogue and characterizations. One hitch to full enjoyment is how Santos' busy frames and fussy lines make many of the male characters look confusingly similar, and the smaller trade paperback-sized format hinders a full appreciation of each panel.

TV
I finally allowed myself to get sucked into the wonderful world of Mad Men, that retro look at the workplace of mid-town Manhattan in the early 60s. Where men were encouraged to smoke, drink, and treat women like objects. And women were only beginning to find ways out of this trap. Mad Men avoids repetition with strong characterization, writing, and stories that never stray far from the strong atmosphere of an advertising company.



Something happened on Wednesday nights that I can’t quite explain: I became a fan of Cougar Town starring Courtney Cox as randy, goofy, selfish, charming real estate agent Jules. It’s a breezy show; each week the story lines concern nothing more than Jules worrying about crow's feet, looking younger, and hanging with her neighbors in a cozy Florida cul-de-sac where everybody has a swimming pool and it’s always sunny! Always! Courtney is gloriously game, and her comic timing, honed from years on Friends, runs circles around the rest of the very funny and believable cast.

What are some of the books you discovered last year? What TV shows can't you live without?

Stay tuned for Part 2!

Interview with Crime Writer Phil Beloin Jr.

Phil Beloin Jr. writes crime novels and stories. His short fiction has appeared on many online crime fiction sites. I met Phil when we both attended the University of Bridgeport film program. He works a seasonal job, mostly in the spring and fall. This gives him time during the off-season to write. Join me as I take a look into the mind of a crime fiction writer.


Unreliable Narrator: How did you get interested in writing crime fiction, and do you consider it a contemporary version of the pulp fictions popular in the 20s, 30s, and 40s?
Phil Beloin Jr.: A friend of mine handed me a copy of James Crumley's Dancing Bear and I was hooked on crime fiction. Before that I had been reading anything that looked interesting, like the classics, best sellers, and almost any genre fiction with an enticing jacket. But with Crumley you had character, setting, plot, and prose blending into a thrilling, perfect read. I just couldn't believe how good it was, and still is on several re-reads.


What drives me to read and write crime fiction is that it delves into seedier milieus and the darker aspects of human behavior. Greed, lust, addiction, any self-destructive activities can be explored and exploited by a writer.
Today's crime fiction is certainly a progression of the golden age of pulp, but thanks to the Internet, pulp is making a strong comeback. There are quite a few sites out there (called e-zines) publishing pulp stories, with both modern settings and throwback pieces. Growing up in the 1970's, the pulp influence on TV included shows like Star Trek and the Super Hero cartoons. Those visuals, story lines, and characters have stuck with me and come into focus when I'm writing.

UN: You were interested in crime stories back in college. Who are some of your influences? Are filmmakers as much an influence as writers?
PB: My interest in crime stories came from my enjoyment of movies and TV shows. As a kid I just loved those 70's crime films, replayed on the tube. A fast ride of machismo, violence, and sex. Very exciting and so different from my quiet upbringing. The TV shows were good, too. I remember watching Cannon (with his car phone!), Barnaby Jones (an old detective, wasn't he on the Beverly Hillbillies?), The Rockford Files (my favorite of the 70's bunch), and even Magnum PI (an 80's detective, but pulpy all the way.)

UN: You write novels and stories. Which are more fulfilling?
PB: Novels are certainly harder to write and really require discipline. I enjoy that hard work, but it can burn me out. What I like about a short story is that it doesn't stay with me as long as a novel. I write it—in an hour, a week—then it's gone from my consciousness, sent off to a magazine or e-zine and I really don't think about it too much...It's on to the next idea, whatever it may be. So I think the shorts are more fulfilling. Plus I've placed a few and hope readers have enjoyed them.

UN: When you think up an idea, do you wonder, should I make this a story, a novel, or maybe consider it for a screenplay?
PB: Several of my short stories I think of as blueprints for novels. I did draft out a novel from one of my shorts, but the manuscript is currently sitting in a drawer...err in the hard drive of my computer. One of my novels, Zipp, would definitely make a great film. Jeez, my wife and I have already cast the thing.
A lot of the shorts I write are set-up pieces, plot heavy, with a twist. I'm going for a quick, fun, read.
Recently, though, I've gotten more internal with my shorts' characters, and they're getting darker. But the set-up pieces and darker shorts wouldn't make a great novel or a screenplay. (Though a film short wouldn't be out of the question!)


UN: Your stories, while mostly set in modern times, really seem steeped in the 1930s and ‘40s, with tough talking detectives and dames, criminals in flop houses, doomed lovers. Is this a conscious decision? An homage to the original pulps? Or do these settings come naturally?
PB: I really enjoy writing in a sparse, old fashioned way, and tossing in odd words and phrases. I think it keeps the read fun. Most of the crime novels I'm reading these days are all written in the same style. Doesn't mean I don't enjoy them; I'm just trying something a little different. So it is a conscious decision to steep my writings in the past, but at the same time, this style flows out of me quite easily, without much mining. I often wonder how I could know or remember some of the weird parlance that pops onto my computer screen. It's like, shit, where did that one come from?

UN: One of your other interests is American history. Ever consider working those elements into your stories?
PB: What I enjoy about American history is that it is great fodder for story ideas. My god—the morons, the greedy, the brilliant who have made this country what it is! History is a great insight into character, especially (the era) I love the most: the 19th century; when the United States became one country and began its quick ride to the TOP. I have one story, set in 1938, relying on historical fact, called A KILLER COMBO...besides that, I tend to name many characters after Civil War Officers. These names are quite flowery, especially those Southern folk.

UN: What attracts you to the crime genre? I mean, do you come up with the plot and then put some characters in the mix? Or do you think up the characters first, and then go, what can I do to really fuck them up?
PB: What attracts me to the genre is its believability factor. No matter how twisted or unusual the story is, it could actually happen (some have—watch the local news, another source for off-beat story ideas). I don't see life or the world in a 'speculative' way. Thus, crime writing. As to plot and character, depends on the idea. It's only as I get into it, do I try to twist plot and characters on their backs.

UN: You write during the months when you’re not working at your seasonal pay-the-mortgage job. What’s a typical writing day like?
PB: A typical day starts with trying to help get everybody off to school and work, which mostly involves staying out of their way. I usually read a little bit while the chaos runs amuck. Around 7:30 the house is empty, the coffee brewing. I check out my notes and ideas scribbled everywhere and sit at my desk. I write for four to five hours then lunch break. After lunch, I may write for an hour or so, or not at all depending how the morning has gone. I may peruse markets, looking to submit stories. Or I may stop working altogether and do other things. I try not to give myself a goal for the day, only that I work on something.


UR: After you’ve been away from writing for a month or two, what do you do to get back into the swing of it? What’s your writing process?
PB: When I decide to purchase a book, I look at that first sentence, first paragraph very carefully. I can tell a lot about the style from that. So for my writing I focus on the first line, the first paragraph. What can I do to hook the reader into my fiction, long or short? Opening lines are always popping into my head, but the question is, what can I do with them? For example, a few days ago, as my wife and I were out doing errands, this came to me: 'I'm a dropout, a drunk, a druggie, a dangerous motherfucker with a Derringer...' That's all I have so far and I don't know where it's going. But it sounds like a good start...So, what I do is look at some of these opening lines I've written down, and try to flesh something out from there. Usually it's a short story. Writing a few of shorts gets me back into writing something longer, or rewriting a manuscript in dire need of an overhaul. Oddly enough, sometimes I come up with what I think is a catchy or quirky title, and try to work a story out of that.

UN: How long did it take you to get published after you first sent out your work? Do you have any advice for writers looking to approach online publications?
PB: When I decided to write short stories, I didn't think I could do it. I mean, I had been working on two novels for years and that's all I knew how to write, mostly self-taught by reading and studying novels I liked. So my first short stories were quite long at 5000-6000 words. Hard for a novice to get these published. So I read shorter works found all over the Web, and those pieces showed me a few things. So a year after writing my first short, I wrote a 1000-word piece called "Sweet Wife" and sent it out to five markets. Three took it, (two rather quickly after submitting), and one even paid me for it. And so from that success, I kind of knew what I was capable of and what editors and readers were looking for in a short. My only advice on submitting to e-zines (is) read a few of their stories and if you like one or two, mention that in your cover letter to the editor. But be sincere.

UN: What are you working on now?
PB: The winter hiatus is coming up, and I'm rewriting several short stories I wrote over the summer and picking through some notes, seeing what flares up. Most are rather dark ideas focusing on mental illness and how it plays in noir. I.e. crazy broads and hoods up to no good.


UN: You mention James Crumley as an early influence. What contemporary writers do you read now?
PB: Two crime/noir writers with a unique style: James Ellroy, who has a tremendous impact on my thought process, and Ken Bruen's Jack Taylor series. I've read nothing like these two guys. Both are brilliant, while being suspenseful, violent, sad, funny, and, above all, entertaining.
And while they might not need the plug, check out the Hard Case Crime series. Most of these books are beauties, including some great ones from the distant, and not-so-distant, past.

UN: What are your future plans? Another novel?
PB: Right now FIVE STAR publishing is looking at my novel, THE BIG BAD. If accepted, I’m sure I'm looking at re-writes. Also, I have a rough draft for a sequel, called THE BIGGER BAD, which I want to improve and get ready to show.

You can find some of Phil’s writing here:
Sweet Wife
The Last Loose End
Drop Off
A Pain in the Ass
Shallow End
A Killer Combo
The Black Bat, his only speculative piece, written in college