Once Upon a Time in Hollywood by Quentin Tarantino

 

(pb; 2021: movie tie-in)

From the first inside page

“RICK DALTON—Once he had his own TV series, but now Rick’s a washed-up villain-of-the-week drowning his sorrows in whiskey sours. Will a phone call from Rome save his fate or seal it?

“CLIFF BOOTH—Rick’s stunt double, and the most infamous man on any movie set because he’s the only one there who might have gotten away with murder.

“SHARON TATE—She left Texas to chase a movie-star dream and found it. Sharon’s salad days are now spent on Cielo Drive, high in the Hollywood Hills.

“CHARLES MANSON—The ex-con’s got a bunch of zonked-out hippies thinking he’s their spiritual leader, but he’d trade it all to be a rock ‘n’ roll star.

“HOLLYWOOD 1969—YOU SHOULDA BEEN THERE.”

 

Review

More an expansive, structural rework companion piece to Tarantino’s 2019 character-centric, plot-rambling and world-building film, Once is best read as a screenplay without a script structure. (When I write “rework” I mean it—e.g., the film’s climactic finish is lacking in the book, mentioned in almost-conversational passing early on. And when I write expansive, that’s equally true of Once, especially when Tarantino details Cliff Booth’s immediate post-WWII years (considering becoming a “man of leisure” in Paris; the details of his stateside homicides, once in Cleveland, the other his wife’s on-boat demise). As with the film, there’s a lot of sly mixing of real-life history and often-wistful, sometimes meta-humored, wish-it-happened Hollywood fantasy.

Mostly, Once works as an alternate-version, well-written book, though Tarantino, true to form, sometimes lets his love of cinema, his characters, and world-building run long (e.g., chapters where he details the plots and characters of his fictional television shows as well as the passages detailing the foreign films that Cliff likes and dislikes).

Once is an impressive, sometimes exasperating (excessive detailing of films and shows) read, one worth checking out, perhaps owning, if you’re looking for something more than the usual, rigid-to-the-film movie tie-in book, and/or a Tarantino fan.

The Shadow Murders by Jussi Adler-Olsen

 

(hb; 2022: ninth book in the Department Q series. Translated from the Danish by William Frost.)

From the inside flap

“On her sixtieth birthday, a woman takes her own life. When the case lands on Detective Carl Mørck’s desk, he can’t imagine what this has to do with Department Q. Copenhagen’s cold cases division, since the cause of death seems apparent. However, his superior, Marcus Jacobsen, is convinced that this suicide is related to an unsolved case that has been plaguing him since 1988.

“At Marcus’s behest, Carl and the Department Q gang—Rose, Assad, and Gordon—reluctantly begin to investigate. And they quickly discover that Marcus is onto something: Every two years for the past three decades, there have been unusual, impeccably timed deaths with connections between them that cannot be ignored, including the mysterious piles of salt at the scenes. As the investigation goes deeper, it emerges that these ‘accidents’ are in fact part of a sinister murder scheme.

“Faced with their toughest case yet, made only more difficult by COVID-19 restrictions and the challenges of their personal lives, the Department Q team must race to find the culprit before the next murder is committed, as it is becoming increasingly clear that the killer is far from finished.”

 

Review

A year or so after the events of Victim 2117, Carl Mørck and the rest of Department Q are still haunted by their pasts, particularly Assad’s family (his wife and children are still fragile after an extensive stint as a terrorist’s hostages) and Mørck, whose 1988 nail-gun case (with others’ planted drug and money evidence) still excites certain police investigators who still want Mørck to turn in his badge. The case that Department Q eventually finds itself investigating is one of manners, murder, manipulation and obsession, and is not initially gripping as previous cases, but the writing is still top-notch and eventually the case becomes more interesting as the tale goes on.  As with previous Department Q novels, this is an immediately engaging (with its familiar-in-a-good-way characters), steady-build and excellent police procedural thriller.

Skin Crawl magazine (issue 2) by magazine creator/writer/illustrator Skinner and various artists

 

(pb; 2022: second issue of Skin Crawl illustrated magazine, created by artist/writer Skinner)

Overall review

The second issue of this EC/Creepy-inspired illustrated horror magazine sports lush, wildly imaginative artwork as Old School as similar, also exciting genre comics that came before it. Two of the storylines in this issue are more ambitious than those seen in issue 1 of Skin Crawl (but just as moralistic and twisty), e.g. “The Seven Geases” and “A Case of the Morbs”. As with its first issue, this is a magazine that’s delivering on its vividly drawn and written promise and more. Worth owning, this.

 

Review, story by story

“Welcome Back”: A swamp creature is drawn from her primordial muck on an annual, special date. Poetic, pulpy, humorous, and completely engaging.

 

“The Seven Geases”: Cody Goodfellow scripted and adapted Clark Ashton Smith’s 1943 Weird Tales-published story, where Lord Ralibar Vooz, “high magistrate of Commorium and third cousin of King Homquet” and twenty-six men venture into the horribly storied Black Eiglophian mountains to hunt arcane game. Things go awry and soon Vooz, with a winged creature guide (Raphotontis), must pass through seven bizarre territories if he is see his terrestrial domain again.

Ambitious in writing, overall scope and sumptuous, detailed visuals, this adaptation of Smith’s work is wow-worthy in the best way and an illustrated tale that warrants revisiting at some future date.

 

“A Case of the Morbs”: Psycho-analytical and vividly illustrated (like all the stories in this issue) tale about two creatures escaping a horrible, monster-populated cave. Quotes from Carl Jung’s “The Shadow—Carl Jung’s Warning to the World”, which talk about balancing one’s light and dark aspects (in themselves and on a societal level), make up much of “Morbs”, making for a stellar, if especially intense work.

 

“Game of the Gods”: Two arrogant deities (The Lord of Instinct and The Lord of Strategy), using mortal alien armies on Scyorax like ongoing chess pieces, make grim and bloody sport to best each other. When a lesser god is allowed to join their game with only one warrior, it could prove to be Instinct and Strategy’s undoing.

Film Noir Reader 2 edited by Alain Silver & James Ursini

 

(oversized pb; 1999: nonfiction/essay collection)

From the back cover

“In the wake of the remarkable success of Film Noir Reader, this new collection further explores a genre of limitless fascination—and one that continues to inspire and galvanize the latest generation of film makers.

“Again heavily illustrated, with close to 150 stills, Film Noir Reader 2 is organized much like the earlier volume. It begins with more ‘More Seminal Essays,’ including a New York Times attack on crime pictures, written more than half a century ago, before the French had even given the genre a name; a look at its early development by the noted French director Claude Chabrol; and an analysis, by the American critic Stephen Farber, of how film noir reflects the violence and ‘Bitch Goddess’ values of contemporary society.

“Part Two, ‘Case Studies,’ covered specific films, with Robert G. Porfirio comparing the 1946 and 1981 versions of The Postman Always Rings Twice, editor Alain Silver exploring ‘Hitchcock’s Noir Landscape,’ Grant Tracey’s reading of ‘Samuel Fuller’s Tabloid Cinema,’ and Francis m. Nevins tracing the transformation of Cornell Woolrich’s fiction into such movie classics as Rear Window and Phantom Lady.

“‘The Evolution of Noir,’ the book’s final section, focuses on the neo-noir of our own time: ‘Son of Noir’ (Richard Jameson), and such timely subjects as ‘Noir Science’ (editor James Ursini) and ‘Girl Power: Female Centered Neo-Noir’ (William Covey). It also considers British film noir (Tony Williams) and the cross-cultural movement of ‘Abstract Expressionism and Film Noir’ (Kent Minturn). . .”

 

Review

This multiauthor essay collection, like many anthologies, is hit-and-miss, depending on who’s writing and what they’re writing about. The essays I didn’t enjoy were largely über-academic and pedantic, as if written to impress (hoped for) peers rather than edutain/educate laymen readers like myself (which is fine, if that was their intent; that said, this is a volume largely intended for the public at large, not an purely academic journal). Also, some of the essayists seem perfectionist, almost snide in their assessments/tones (e.g., Claude Chabrol, who’s made some good films, but has his fair share of less-than-stellar works). Some readers may well disagree with my reaction to those oh so lofty, high on intellectualistic language writers, and that’s fine—I’m guess that’s why Silver and Ursini included such a mix, to appeal to a wider audience. At any rate, the following essays stood out in their overall, straightforward excellence, relative conciseness, lack of five-dollar words (when fifty-cent words would do the trick), and worthwhile observations:

“Three Faces of Noir” – Tom Flinn (1972)

“Violence and the B**ch Goddess” – Stephen Farber (1974)

“Whatever Happened to Film Noir? The Postman Always Rings Twice (1946-1981)” – Robert G. Porfirio (1981)

“Creativity and Evaluation: Two Film Noirs of the Fifties” – Robin Wood

“Translate and Transform: from Cornell Woolrich to Film Noir” – Francis M. Nevins

“Film Noir and Samuel Fuller’s Tabloid Cinema: Red (Action), White (Exposition) and Blue (Romance)” – Grant Tracey

“Son of Noir” – Robert T. Jameson

“Writing the New Noir Film” – Sharon Y. Cobb

“Girl Power: Female-Centered Neo-Noir” – William Covey

“Noir 101” – Philip Gaines

Ultimately, Film Noir Reader 2 has enough interesting, generally worthwhile essays in it to make it worth reading and buying, particularly if you’re not familiar with the genre and looking to fix that—even its bordering-on-obscurantist works are an educational, in the sense that it warns film noir neophytes the kinds of [censored] they might have to deal with while wading through the murky shadows of noir cinema.

Elvira: The Boy Who Cried Werewolf by Elvira with John Paragon

 

(pb; 1998: YA novel. Third novel in the Elvira trilogy.)

From the back cover

“I thought I had bad hair days!

“I’ve dealt with wolves before, but never like this. The kind I’m used to are all bark, no bite. They howl, they drool, and who do you think gets stuck with the check? I mean fangs a lot, fellas!

“Now my young friend Whitney keeps trying to convince me he’s a werewolf. As if, I mean, I like a good practical choke as much as the next ghoul. But if this kid doesn’t give it up soon, he’s off to his tomb with no supper.

“There he is now. Look at him. What’s with all the fur? And those fangs—hasn’t he heard about caps? Still. . . the blood looks pretty real. That arm in his mouth, too. You don’t think. . .

“Jeepers creepers! I better give Whitney a yelping hand before the neighbors scare up some silver bullets. I tell ya, a ghoul’s work is never done!”

Review

Caveat: (possible) reference spoilers in review. 

The third and final Elvira novel, not linked to the 1973 or 2010 films, is my favorite book in this bunch. In Boy, a rest stop trailer gypsy curses one of Elvira’s adolescent, easily influenced friends (Whitney Benedict) with lycanthropy just as a string of bloody (briefly but not gratuitously described), full-moon murders terrorize Elvira’s chosen town, Beaver Hills. Is Whitney the furry killer, or is it the craven Dmitri Ouspensky (son of the gypsy) or Officer Paul Tanner (the wolfishly aggressive and charming cop who’s won Elvira’s heart)? As the body count mounts, Elvira, with help from Kimberly Henning (Whitney’s girlfriend), investigates, risking their lives and the lives of those around them.

Like the first two standalone books, double-entendres and horror film references/set-ups are seamlessly, often hilariously baked into the deftly paced storyline, a work suited for older teens who are familiar with the horror host’s work. Appropriately, references are made to The Wolf Man (1941), I Was a Teenage Werewolf (1957), and The Howling (1981) as well as A Nightmare on Elm Street (1984) and Stephen King (specifically his 1983 novel Christine, which resulted in a same-year John Carpenter-helmed film). What elevates the Elvira novels above other “light”/young adult books is that it balances horror and humor in equal measure, an excellent terror-flick introduction work worth owning (if you can find it for a reasonable price, it’s an out-of-print book).

Jealous Woman by James M. Cain

 

(pb; 1950: loosely linked sequel to Double Indemnity)

From the back cover

“James M. Cain. . . pairs Jane Delevan and Ed Horner as new lovers in this sizzling divorce novel set in Reno. Cain’s famous insurance investigator, Keyes, straight out of Double Indemnity, puts in a surprising appearance, seven years after solving the earlier murder. When Jane Delevan’s estranged husband Tom shows up, with his first wife, Lady Sperry, in tow, who sets her sights on Ed Horner, Cain serves up a generous helping of Hollywood-ized sloppy behavior. This is Cain’s only true ‘mystery’ novel.”

 

Review

Seven years after the happenings of Double Indemnity, Barton Keyes, often unlikeable insurance investigator for General Pan-Pacific of California (“Gen-Pan for short”), finds himself attracted to his own possible femme fatale (Constance Sperry) while he works with another Gen-Pan agent, the grudgingly honest and promotion-obsessed Ed Horner who’s in love with another dangerous woman, Jane Delevan (whose husband just took a header over the roof of a building). Things are complicated, fast-moving when another corpse turns up, both tied to the two women as well as Harriet Jenkins, Richard Sperry’s British secretary.

Jealous is not as fun to read as Double, nor is it as easy to follow. Keeping voice-true to its chatty, run-on sentence-spouting narrator (Ed Horner), it moves quickly (with sometimes awkward transition-twist sentences) and piles on the red herrings and twists. A breathless, adrenaline-charged read, it’s a sometimes solid, often dizzying work, one worth checking out if you’re fine with its borderline stream-of-consciousness “voice” and/or a die-hard Cain fan.