Shot in the Rear End: Mickey's Close Shave with Destiny

Michael "Mickey" Cohen needed a new bulletproof Cadillac for several reasons: His home was bombed in February 1950 and his previous Cadillac acquired some bullet holes outside Sherry's Restaurant, 9039 Sunset Blvd., on July 20, 1949. Mickey didn't get hit. He bent over to inspect a scratch on his Cadillac when they began shooting.

High Mass: Whitey Bulger, LSD and a Devil's Deal

Johnny Depp as Whitey Bulger? Yup, the actor who played Dillinger in "Public Enemies" is going to play another crime icon, and the movie is slated for release next year. More about that later.

Dick Lehr, a former Boston Globe reporter and co-author of a new book about the life of James "Whitey" Bulger was in L.A. last night, and he brought along screenwriter Mark Mallouk who has adapted Lehr and Gerard O'Neill's previous tome, "Black Mass: Whitey Bulger, the FBI, and a Devil's Deal" for a movie that is to begin filming in Boston this summer. Depp and director Barry Levinson are both attached. Levinson is also in pre-production with "Gotti: In the Shadow of My Father."

James "Whitey" Bulger, 1956

Whitey, the crime boss who went on the lam and got busted here in Santa Monica, was an outstanding figure among underworld bosses, said Lehr. "His gang had reach." Whitey not only controlled Boston rackets, he had a hand in fixing horse races up and down the East Coast, and had a money skimming scam netting him $10,000 per week from World Jai Alai. He is a suspect in 19 homicides, including that of World Jai Alai owner Roger Wheeler.

Lehr read from his latest book, recounting Whitey's prison years in Atlanta in the 1950s, where he volunteered to participate in studies on what was a new drug in the United States, LSD. Psychiatrists thought that LSD might be a useful tool in the study of criminal psychopaths. However, Lehr says the CIA also got into the act and tested numerous other drugs on prisoners. We'll likely never know which substances were used in the testing because all records were destroyed. As you might expect, the agency's shadowy behavior during that study resulted in quite a scandal.

Whitey is probably most noted for having compromised the nation's leading law enforcement agency, the FBI. The G-Men protected him from prosecution for the crimes he committed in return for information he provided that helped smash Boston Mafioso operations. FBI agent John Connolly, who came from Whitey's South Boston neighborhood, was instrumental in setting up the quid pro quo deal between Whitey and the FBI. Connolly said of his first meeting with the infamous Whitey, "It was like meeting Ted Williams," the legendary Red Sox slugger.

Lehr noted that, aside from the FBI, Whitey conned other notable figures into helping him sidestep the penalties due to him, including speaker of the U.S. House John McCormack, and Father Robert Drinan, a Catholic priest and dean of Boston College Law School, who would later become a Massachusetts congressman.

"McCormack's fingerprints are all over Whitey's records," noted Lehr. The House speaker stepped up to the plate for Whitey, as did Drinan, and saw to his early release from detention, including two years served in Alcatraz when the norm for most inmates was an eight year stretch.

Whitey's most commonly heard refrain was, I'm no angel, but I'm not ... fill in the blanks: As bad as they say. A drug pusher. A murderer. Of course, his self-assessment was dubious at best.

Ed Harris, left, Whitey, right

As for the movie, both Lehr and Mallouk have no control over casting, so they can't be blamed for the choices that have been made. While I like Johnny Depp, I can think of few actors less suited to play Whitey -- how about Ed Harris instead? Of course, Harris doesn't have Depp's A-List credentials, and in Hollywood that's the only thing that counts. I thought Depp was also miscast as Dillinger, and of course the movie bombed. But in tinseltown, A-Listers are allowed to repeat their mistakes -- until they're no longer A-Listers.

Whitey, being the notorious narcissist that he is, is undoubtedly aware of and concerned about the movie project. Someone last night asked Lehr if a special screening is in the cards for Whitey, who is sitting in a Plymouth County jail cell awaiting trial. "Whitey isn't going to be having any special screenings," the author said.

This Scarface is in Chicago, Not Miami

Living dangerously, Tony Camonte muscles in on his boss's girlfriend.

"Scarface" (1932) is one of the seminal American gangster films of the 1930s, along with "Little Caesar," "The Roaring Twenties" and "The Public Enemy." Each one tells the story of a gangster's rise in the bootlegging business and his assent to the top of a powerful crime syndicate. After tasting success, each of the crime lords has a precipitous fall back to earth due to errors in judgment and his own hubris. 

The films are a study in how criminal empires are built on the sale of whisky, gin and beer to a willing Prohibition-era public. The 1930s "Scarface was remade in 1983 with Al Pacino in the title role. Both films tell similar stories but could hardly more different in content, tone and style. The Pacino "Scarface," directed by Brian De Palma, is a good deal more graphically violent and involves cocaine trafficking rather than rum running.

Howard Hawks directed the original and Ben Hecht wrote the break-neck paced script that is as witty as his screwball comedy, "His Girl Friday" — Hawks directed that one, too.  

Hawks's film had to sit on the shelf for two years after its completion. The studio was reluctant to release it because of the violence it depicts. But compared with the Pacino film, the original "Scarface" is almost a Sunday school picnic. Although Hawks's film is hardly violence-free it seems mild compared with the bullet-riddled 1983 film, which contains, among other atrocities, a chainsaw murder. 

Paul Muni is terrific as the wisecracking Tony Camonte, a gangster who wants to control all of Chicago's booze biz. He must step over or crush many other hoods to get the job done, and like many a successful gangster he'll rub out even a longtime pal who stands in the way.

Tony flirts with his boss's girlfriend and talks of taking over the North Side of Chicago's bootlegging business that's run by a powerful rival gang — both actions suggest a death wish at the core of his being. But pretty soon he makes good on his ambitions.

Tony (Paul Muni) likes the feel of a machine gun in 'Scarface.'

Despite his penchant for deep-sixing his rivals, Tony has a goofy side that might have seemed out of place in such a dubious movie hero, but here it doesn't.

The newly rich Tony shows off his fancy new digs to the girl he's taken a shine to and she tells the vocabulary-challenged mobster it's sort of gaudy, which he takes as a compliment.

When Tony gets his hands on a Thompson machine gun, the first one he's ever seen, he's delighted with the weapon's raw destructive power. He takes adolescent delight in spraying the room with bullets, but it doesn't take long before he starts training the weapon on human targets.

Tony is devoted to his mother — do all wiseguys have mother issues? He's also a fierce overlord to his younger sister, demanding that she never go on dates with young men. His fixation with his attractive sibling is a bit creepy and ultimately becomes a key part of his undoing.

Tony's fancy townhouse is equipped with steel shutters, making the joint a fortress to stave off bullets and bombs that rivals and the police might fire in his direction. But he can never completely shut out the threats that will ultimately rain down upon him.

Racked by paranoia, he ultimately finishes off his friends as well as other hoods looking to put out his lights. Alone, he's no longer a force to be reckoned with and he pays the ultimate price for his misdeeds. A fitting end to a strange bad guy who we can't help but like.

Whitey Not a Rat? Shelley Murphy on Whitey Bulger

The James "Whitey" Bulger saga continues, and here's an interesting interview with reporter Shelley Murphy about the incarcerated 83 year old Boston mob boss. Check out Shelley's accent -- sounds like she's right out of Southie.
Shelley Murphy on Whitey Bulger - RadioBDC blog - Boston.com

You may remember that Whitey was on the lam from Boston Police, and wanted for some 19 murders he is accused of committing or ordering others to commit. But Whitey's luck ran out in June 2011 when authorities busted the gang overlord in Santa Monica, Calif. The crime kingpin is widely believed to have received immunity from prosecution courtesy of the Boston branch of the FBI, because he was informing on his mob brethren. But hold the phone -- now Whitey says he ain't no canary!

'The Crimson Kimono': Big Crime in Little Tokyo

Tawdry newspaper headlines bark out plot twists
in 'The Crimson Kimono' (1959).

Director, producer and writer Samuel Fuller photographs the streets of downtown L.A. stunningly in "The Crimson Kimono," a film that's part mystery, part love triangle and part travelogue. We get to see the downtown exteriors, particularly Little Tokyo as it looked in 1959, with a gleaming City Hall in the background. The City Hall tower is a crucial visual marker in a metropolis whose skyline has few recognizable buildings. It instantly orients the observer, and in "The Crimson Kimono" it serves as a looming symbol of justice watching over the city's mean streets.

Sugar Torch (Gloria Pall).

He started his career as a teenaged crime reporter for New York tabloid newspapers, and it shows in his films. Fuller had a gift for exploiting the tawdry and the sensational. "Crimson Kimono"'s plot involves the search to find out who murdered stripper Sugar Torch, and the characters include the denizens of the urban demimonde plus a number of eccentrics thrown in for good measure — the story takes place in L.A., a city routinely portrayed in crime fiction and movies as kooks central. As the manhunt for the killer proceeds, the two detectives, who happen to be buddies and roommates as well, fall in love with the same woman, and the resulting turmoil is the backdrop to the central murder mystery.

Ziggy plays a small role in the story, but is worth mentioning because much of the rest of the cast, especially Corbett and his buddy, Det. Joe Kojaku (James Shigeta) don't have the same air of authenticity about them as does street canary Ziggy. They come across as much too square to be uttering the words that come out of their mouths. Kojaku observes, "Charlie figured bird-doggin' wouldn't appeal to you," and Bancroft admits, "You know, I knocked around an awful lot," and, "Somethin's eatin' him the way he clammed up." 

Wandering through Little Tokyo.

These two ivy league-looking dudes are almost painful to watch when they spout these howlers. Granted, the kind of stylized Runyonesque dialogue Fuller was going for probably never came out of anyone's mouth at anytime in real life. A grittier cast may have turned up the believability quotient a few notches, but, no matter, it's still a bracingly exciting film.

Fuller knew how to open a movie with a healthy dose of hoopla, and his aerial view of L.A. at night and the roaring Gene Krupa-like orchestration behind the soaring camera work perfectly sets the scene. As we view the city from a bat's-eye perspective, the title card tells us it's LOS ANGELES, in case there was doubt.

The greatness behind "The Crimson Kimono" is its ability to turn L.A. into a character in the story, not just a location, and at that Fuller excels. And if you're going to pick a city to play the backdrop for a crime story you could do a lot worse than L.A.

'Gangster Squad' Ready to Rumble

The Sunday L.A. Times just arrived outside my door wrapped in its usual plastic body bag, but this time it was also wrapped in a faux front-page advertisement touting “Gangster Squad,” the big-deal movie that opens Friday. The four-page L.A. Times ad disguised as a legitimate front page complete with screaming headlines and real photos of 1940s – ’50s gangster boss Mickey Cohen (pictured above) and others of his ilk, is a sure sign that this film is getting the big-time promotional treatment reserved for high-ticket movies such as “The Dark Night.” Warner Brothers, who is releasing the thing, seems to have high hopes that this one is going to be, as the Mafioso would say, a “good earner.” Sean Penn plays the Mickster.

The script was written by ex-L.A. cop Will Beall based on the book of the same title by Paul Lieberman. Apropos to the Time’s four-page advertorial spread, the paper also published a series on Mickey Cohen’s reign over the city, and the secret police squad that skirted the law to break organized crime’s stranglehold on L.A. You can read the series online here: L.A. Noir: Tales from the Gangster Squad.

Just Desserts for a Bad Apple

The Hoodlum (1951)

Director: Max Nosseck
Writer: Sam Neuman
Stars: Lawrence Tierney, Allene Roberts and Marjorie Riordan

See the full movie on YouTube, or rent it on DVD.

Sometimes a rat gets what he deserves – it just takes a while.

“The Hoodlum” begins documentary style with a rundown of anti-hero Vincent Lubeck’s dirty dealings. As a teen, he starts getting busted for petty crimes, and pretty soon he's graduated to the big leagues.

Next is a scene with wooden dialogue in which Lubeck’s mom successfully argues with the parole board to release her wayward boy from lock-up. But mom soon finds she made a big mistake in springing the now-grown golden boy from the slammer.

The movie’s first few minutes might make you want to look for something else to watch. But stay with it. It’s not a goofy morality tale, a la “Reefer Madness.” The movie quickly morphs into a terse, tightly edited story (it’s just an hour and 10 minutes long) of a caring, supportive family getting thoroughly screwed over by their good-for-nothing son.

Lawrence Tierney is great as Vincent, the sociopath who ensures that no good deed goes unpunished. Tierney’s real-life brother, Edward, plays his sibling, Johnny Lubeck. Johnny puts aside his disdain for his paroled brother – Vincent’s criminal shenanigans drove their father to his grave – and tries to help him go straight. But aiding in Vincent’s reform is a losing battle, and Johnny ends up suffering dearly for his efforts.

Vincent, being the shark that he is, displays a genius in finding ways to exploit, humiliate and drive to the brink everyone who shows him trust and kindness. He gets off scot-free for his dirty dealings with his family. But when he masterminds an armored car robbery that goes wrong, his downfall is at hand. The authorities, you see, wear no kid gloves.

This low-budget flick avoids finding redeeming qualities in Vincent, which is one of its greatest strengths. Vincent has no softer side that makes him sympathetic to a broad audience, and any attempt to explain or justify his anti-social behavior would dilute the film's impact.

Vincent's end comes at the town dump -- not at all like the "top of the world" fiery and spectacular end James Cagney's Cody Jarrett meets in "White Heat" a couple of years earlier.

But like Cody, Vincent has little respect for anyone but his mother -- and we don't see much of it until the movie's final act. It's then and only then that we have a glimmer of sympathy for the hoodlum, when it's too late to save him. But then, "The Hoodlum" isn't about redemption. It's about payback, and Vincent receives that in spades.