You Only Live Once: Outlaws on the Road

Sylvia Sidney and Henry Fonda in 'You Only Live Once.'

D

irector Fritz Lang's masterpiece of German cinema, “M” (1931), delves into the murky waters of criminality with an assuredness that few films of that era can match. A frantic search is on for a serial killer who murders children, resulting in an uptick in police raids and harassment of Berlin's illicit enterprises. The police are frustrated in their search for the maniac, so members of the city's underworld, eager to ward off police interference, take matters into their own hands. 

The dark, brooding atmosphere of "M," shot in glorious black and white, crossed the Atlantic with Lang when he left his native Europe and came to work in Hollywood. His vision of the shadowy underworld was destined to become part of the fabric of early- to mid-century American cinema in what was later known as film noir — French critic Nino Frank coined the term in 1946.

All of which leads us to a film the director made six years later. 

A word of warning here, SPOILERS ABOUND, so you might want to stop reading here if you've yet to see "You Only Live Once" and “M.”

Lang made “You Only Live Once” (1937) in the United States, and it’s based loosely on the exploits of real-life bank robbers Bonnie Parker and Clyde Barrow. In it, the director translates his German Expressionist aesthetics to the American gangster film. As with all of his films, Lang infuses the story with comments on injustices the powerless must face, in this case at the hands of enforcers of the law.

In the opening scene, a prosecutor and a public defender mull over the facts of a case while a fruit peddler complains that a cop on the beat steals apples from his stall. The peddler is shooed away while bureaucrats shuffle papers and bargain over how the law will be enforced. Failing to receive help, the forlorn peddler goes comically livid as a policeman swipes another of his apples right under his nose.

Eddie Taylor (Henry Fonda), a three-time loser, is released from prison and promptly marries his sweetheart, Joan Graham (Sylvia Sidney), who happens to be the public defender’s secretary. It was she who turns a deaf ear to the complaining fruit peddler, but as the story progresses her understanding of the justice system will change significantly. 

On their honeymoon they come upon a frog pond, where Eddie discloses that his first brush with the law came when he roughed up his peers who cruelly tore the legs off of frogs. The honeymooners note that these cold-blooded creatures mate for life. When one dies, the other soon follows — an omen of things to come, perhaps.

Death row visit.

Their wedding bliss is short lived, however, when the owner of the honeymoon suite spots Eddie’s mug in a true crime magazine and the couple are unceremoniously booted out.

What drives the story is Eddie's anger over the small and not so small disparities between the way the well-connected and the downtrodden are treated. He's the victim of foolish choices he made as a youngster, and now society and law enforcers won't let him off the hook. 

Set up in a job with a trucking company courtesy of the corrections system, Eddie’s path to redemption quickly turns rocky.

The couple finds a shabby residence, but Eddie's boss fires him for a minor offense. Joan moves into the house without telling Eddie. Reluctant to deliver the bad news, Eddie doesn’t let on that he’s unemployed, but the down payment is due by the end of the week. We see the makings of an alternate plan when he pulls back some bedding to reveal a gun under his pillow.

Last Ditch Effort

Eddie makes a break for it.

Eddie looks everywhere for another job, but has no luck. His boss turns down his appeal for a second chance, and Eddie loses his temper and slugs him. The film cuts to a cleverly shot heist scene — an armored car hold-up in a strong downpour, all beautifully filmed. A man is shot and killed and we see Eddie’s hatband, emblazoned with initials “E.T.” although we don’t see his face.

Turns out, his hat was stolen in a restaurant – it’s the only clue left at the robbery scene – and he is being framed. Joan wants him to turn himself in, but the police find him before he can. Eddie is found guilty and is sentenced to the electric chair.

With Eddie’s criminal record and prison history, the public, the police and prosecutor are quick to believe that he’s the culprit. “Eddie Taylor has been pounding on the door of that execution chamber since he was born,” says one.

Desperation

On death row, he and Joan have their last visit before he is to be executed and he tells her to bring him a gun. She does, but a priest who accompanies her is wise to the charade and quashes the plan. Then, an inmate passes Eddie a note that says there’s a gun stashed in the mattress in the isolation ward.

Shadows in a cell block.

In these critical scenes we see dramatic lighting effects set the mood and help illustrate the story. A shadowy expressionistic atmosphere helps dramatize Eddie's desperation, particularly the jail cell bars casting dark shadows that slice through the frame. They're severe, blunt, and an abstraction of the real world — the shadows could likely never be cast by the light sources we see in the frame. But they make the setting feel all the more claustrophobic while reinforcing the painful fact that Eddie is trapped in a spot from which there is no escape.

A Bold Move
Eddie tears apart a tin cup, cuts his wrist and acts erratically, hoping to be put in isolation. When he’s eventually taken there, he uses the gun to take a doctor hostage and escape.

The warden issues a shoot to kill order, adding that they should save the doctor being held hostage, if possible. The scene cuts to a news ticker tape — the armored car Eddie supposedly robbed has been recovered and evidence shows he is not the guilty party. Authorities issue a pardon for Eddie with a swiftness possible only in the movies. The real killer is Eddie’s former cellmate, Monk.

Of course, Eddie doesn't get the memo, and when he's told that he’s a free man he thinks it’s a ploy to capture him. Father Dolan, the priest who stopped Joan from smuggling the gun, intervenes, but Eddie has lost his faith.

Fog shrouds the prison grounds — another noir touch that reflects Eddie's confused state of mind — and officials are loathe to let Eddie escape with a gun even though he’s been pardoned. He’ll kill the first person he meets, they say. Before he can leave the prison grounds he shoots Father Dolan, his staunchest ally, and manages to get away. 

The Fugitives

Eddie Taylor on the run in 'You Only Live Once.'

Joan follows Eddie to a rail yard where he’s holed up in a boxcar. He's wounded, but they go on the run together, and as known fugitives they are blamed for every stick-up in the area.

Joan's sister wants to send her to live in Havana, but she hits the road with Eddie instead. It's not long before the law bears down on them and both are wounded.

Troopers pursue them on foot to the edge of the Mexican border, where freedom awaits them, but can they make it?

Eddie carries Joan, just yards from the border, and she expires in his arms. We see the pair lined up in a trooper’s telescopic sites. A blast of gunfire ends their quest for freedom.

A Voice from Beyond

We hear Father Dolan in voiceover, speaking from beyond the grave we must presume. “You’re free, Eddie, the gates are open,” referring to the gates of Heaven, rather than an earthly passageway to freedom.

In contrast, "M" ends on a decidedly pessimistic note. The murderer faces mob justice at the hands of underworld figures who capture him and bring him before a kangaroo court. The criminals are unanimous in calling for the killer’s head. The police and justice system, they say, would be too lenient, likely they will institutionalize him, and there is always a chance that he will escape and kill again. But the police arrive before the criminal element has its way, and the murderer is arrested and brought to trial.

Aside from religiosity, a glaring difference between the two films is that in “You Only Live Once,” American police, courts and prisons are called to task for their rush to judgment and use of lethal force that brings about the demise of Eddie and Joan. As for “M,” charges of law enforcement’s excessive leniency probably reflect a segment of German public opinion between the World Wars. 

Peter Lorre in "M."

In the early 1930s, the German Republic was beset by unemployment and hyperinflation brought about in part by the Great Depression. In this atmosphere, political extremism took root, leading to a dark period of fascist rule. We may assume that the public’s lack of faith in a just but faltering government helped pave the way for one of Germany’s darkest hours.

Both films come to tragic conclusions, but each has a distinct difference in tone and outlook. In the blunt closing scene of “M,” mothers of the young murder victims reflect that punishing the perpetrator will not bring back their children.

"You Only Live Once" ends on what some might say is a brighter, if slightly ambiguous, conclusion — Eddie and Joan find redemption in the afterlife. Or, do they?

Director and film historian Peter Bogdanovich asked Lang whether the gates of Heaven ending should be understood as ironic or as the truth, to which Lang replied, "As the truth." He reminded the interviewer that he was raised a Catholic, although admitting, by the church's standards, he was not a good Catholic.

"I think it was the truth for those people," he said. "The doors are open now."

The priest whom Eddie murders, the only prison official who believed in him, is the voice welcoming him and Joan to the Pearly Gates, while the authorities who judged them harshly likely expect the pair to be shunted off to eternal damnation. 

In Lang’s view, it seems, our deeds are rightly evaluated in the hereafter, and earthly judgment will forever fail society's outsiders such as Eddie and Joan, as it will the survivors of the young victims in “M.” For them, justice will always be out of reach in the here and now.

James Ellroy to Discuss New Novel, 'Perfidia'

Celebrated L.A. crime novelist James Ellroy will be talking about his new book, "Perfidia," at the main branch of the L.A. Public Library on Tuesday, Sept. 9. Wait list tickets are all that are left, and admission is free. He'll be signing "Perfidia," but only copies you buy from the library -- proceeds help support its cultural programs. The event takes place at the Los Angeles Central Library's Mark Taper Auditorium, 630 W. Fifth Street. Wait list admissions will be handed out starting at 7 p.m. Get there early.

http://www.lfla.org/event-detail/1040/Perfidia-A-Novel

A SIMMERING 'RAW DEAL' IS COOKED TO PERFECTION

From left, Pat Cameron (Claire Trevor), Ann Martin (Marsha Hunt) and Joe Sullivan (Dennis O'Keefe) in 'Raw Deal' (1948).
Be forewarned, there are many SPOILERS contained below.

In film noir, it's unusual for the femme fatale to act as narrator. But in "Raw Deal," the dilemmas of conscience are seen through the eyes of the morally challenged Pat Cameron (Claire Trevor), who cares only about saving herself and her convict boyfriend Joe Sullivan (Dennis O'Keefe).

Pat narrates the action in voiceover, as other-worldly music warbles in the background. When social  worker Ann Martin (Marsha Hunt), a straight arrow, enters the picture, Pat starts to feel that do-gooder Ann is crowding her out of the picture.

Joe skips out of prison — he wants a breath of fresh air — and circumstances bring Joe, Pat and Ann together. The trio goes on the lam and it doesn't take long for the smoldering love triangle to catch fire.

But it's not strictly a love story. There's a fair amount of action sprinkled about. Director Anthony Mann handles the film's violence artfully. Several fistfights and shootouts happen in dark, shadowy or foggy places, and we don't really see who is getting the better of whom. It's a device that ramps up the tension, and probably saved this bare-bones production some money in its stunts budget.

Each of the three main characters faces a moral dilemma or two. When another outlaw appears on the scene and begs for shelter, Joe must decide whether or not to hide the unlucky perp and put himself in jeopardy. Predictably, Pat wants to lock the schnook out, but Joe, against his better judgment, let's him in.

Going Native
Meanwhile, Ann, kidnapped by Joe and Pat, gets a strong case of Stockholm syndrome and goes from good girl to gaga for Joe.

When Pat receives the call that head bad guy Rick Coyle (Raymond Burr) captured Ann, and that he's going to do her in if Joe doesn't turn himself in to the gang boss, Pat flunks the morality test when she dummies up and doesn't spill the news to Joe, who would certainly come to Ann's rescue.

As the clock ticks and the couple gets ready to head for South America, Pat gets a pang of conscience. She fesses up and tells Joe that Ann's in trouble.

Joe to the Rescue
Joe confronts Rick at gunpoint, but Rick outdraws Joe and they wound each other. They struggle and the apartment accidentally catches fire. As the story wraps up we're treated to one of the film's least convincing process shots.

Joe, reunited with Ann, takes a tumble as a befuddled Pat looks on helplessly. 

Joe finally gets the breath of fresh air he wanted so badly when he was in the jug, but won't have the pleasure of savoring it. Pat finally sees happiness in Joe's face, but it's too late.

While Ann makes the leap from rigid, upstanding citizen to one who bends her principles for the man she secretly loves, Pat is redeemed when she decides to act in a morally sound manner, even if it means making a supreme sacrifice. 

With its bittersweet ending, we see that even in this tale of the doomed, a ray or two of sunlight can penetrate the dark clouds.

MAP CAN HELP YOU FOLLOW IN JAKE'S FOOTSTEPS

Jack Nicholson and Faye Dunaway in 'Chinatown.'

There's something about iconic films that make fans get dizzy. When a movie so inspires a legion of followers to dress up like the film's characters, and perhaps talk like them, when kindred spirits communicate at parties by exchanging sharp, witty lines of dialogue that they know by heart ... well, then you've got yourself a cultural phenomenon there, buddy.

If you're a "Chinatown" fanatic, you'll want to trace the movements of one Jake Gittes, the private eye who unravels the complex yarn of scandal, murder and deception that unfolds in Roman Polanski's 1974 classic film.

The folks at Curbed L.A. can help you do that, with their online Ultimate Chinatown Filming Location Map of Los Angeles. Some of the filming locations aren't exactly in the same location that they're supposed to be in the film. Immaterial.

What's important is that you can walk in the footsteps of "Chinatown" stars Jack Nicholson, Faye Dunaway and John Huston. You'll see such locations as:

Los Angeles City Hall, the scene of a Water Department meeting, where an angry sheepherder crashes the party with his charges.
The Oak Pass reservoir -- actually the Stone Canyon Reservoir, where Hollis Mulwray takes the big sleep.
The Brown Derby, where Nicholson and Dunaway meet to talk turkey.

And the list goes on. So, pack a lunch and gas up the car. It's "Chinatown" — remember it!

IT'S A NOIR KIND OF WEEKEND

TV Movies Network’s film noir lineup this weekend – June 7-8 -- looks good. The listings are all East Coast times starting early Sunday morning in the East, or Saturday evening in L.A. (KCOP-TV).

12:25AM / I Wake Up Screaming (1941) TV-PG
A young promoter is falsely accused of the murder of a beautiful actress he "discovered" while working as a waitress.
Featuring: Betty Grable, Victor Mature

2:10AM / The Burglar (1957) TV-PG
A jewel thief's big heist is upended when his half-sister is kidnapped by a crooked cop who demands the loot in exchange for her safe return.
Featuring: Dan Duryea, Jayne Mansfield

4:10AM / Human Desire (1954) TV-PG
A Korean War vet returns to his job as a railroad engineer and becomes involved in a sordid affair with a co-worker's wife and murder.
Featuring: Glenn Ford, Gloria Grahame, Broderick Crawford, Edgar Buchanan, Kathleen Case

6:10AM / Pickup on South Street (1953) TV-PG
A pickpocket unwittingly lifts a message destined for enemy agents and becomes a target for a Communist spy ring.
Featuring: Richard Widmark, Jean Peters

JOHNNY DEPP SHOWS HIS BEST GANGSTER FACE

DEA Agents raid Whitey Bulger's South Boston headquarters.

I know ... Whitey Bulger's ties to L.A. are tenuous. His career as boss of the Irish mob in Boston is not the stuff L.A. legends are made of. But, indulge me a bit. He was arrested here, or, in Santa Monica to be more precise, in June 2011, after years of being on the lam.

So, the news is that after some delay, filming of the Scott Cooper directed "Black Mass" is getting under way in Boston. The first shots of Johnny Depp in full Whitey Bulger makeup have been leaked, and the look seems at first glance fairly authentic.

The film is based on Dick Lehr and Gerard O'Neill's book, "Black Mass: Whitey Bulger, the FBI, and a Devil's Deal."

Johnny Depp, center, in Whitey makeup.

In addition to the tome in which the movie is based, Lehr and O'Neill co-authored another book about the life of James "Whitey" Bulger that covered the crime boss's ascent as a career criminal and eventual downfall. Whitey's  prison terms, including one at Alcatraz, are detailed in the book. Also discussed is his participation in an early test of the drug LSD.

Movie folks are reportedly busy mocking up a Triple O's set in Cambridge, Mass., that will be used for shooting exterior scenes. The real Triple O's, a South Boston bar Whitey used as his headquarters, no longer exists.

So, what are the chances that "Black Mass" will hit it out of Fenway Park, so to speak?

Cooper's previous crime writing-directing assignment, last year's "Out of the Furnace" scored a paltry 52 percent fresh on Rotten Tomatoes.

We'd better hope for some of that good Irish luck.

A Touch of Orson: Venice Beach as Border Town

Orson Welles prepares a crucial scene in "Touch of Evil"

Downtown L.A.'s refurbished Million Dollar Theater recently screened the Orson Welles classic dark tale of corruption and murder, "Touch of Evil." The film was originally released in 1958 after the studio took control of it from Welles. There’s a recut and redubbed version in circulation these days that is largely restored to the version that Welles intended thanks to a 40-plus page memo he sent the producers protesting changes made to the film. Using the memo as a guide, restorers fixed much of the damage done by studio meddling 50 years after the original release. 
Film historians consider "Touch of Evil" to be the last film of the classic noir era, which began with "The Maltese Falcon" in 1941.
"Touch of Evil" is set in a Mexican border town, but Venice Beach, with it's Spanish style colonnades, stood in for a jerkwater berg overlooking our neighbor to the south.
Welles co-wrote the script, directed and co-starred along with Charlton Heston, Janet Leigh and Marlene Dietrich. Also, playing supporting roles are Zsa Zsa Gabor and Dennis Weaver.
Below, a video about the "Touch of Evil" restoration:



See the photo at top, and note how the crane shot is used in a clip from the film's opening:

BEHIND THE SCENES: 'DOUBLE INDEMNITY'

Barbara Stanwyck, third from left, and Fred MacMurray await their cues.

"Double Indemnity" recently had its 70th anniversary. The Billy Wilder directed film is a top contender for best noir of all time.  It features great performances by Fred MacMurray (Walter Neff), Barbara Stanwyck (Phyllis Dietrichson) and Edward G. Robinson (Barton Keyes) and is packed with classic dialog:

Walter Neff: I was thinking about that dame upstairs, and the way she had looked at me, and I wanted to see her again, close, without that silly staircase between us.

Phyllis: We're both rotten.
Walter Neff: Only you're a little more rotten.

Edward S. Norton: That witness from the train, what was his name?
Barton Keyes: His name was Jackson. Probably still is.

The terrific script unfolds mainly in flashbacks. Wilder and Raymond Chandler adapted the James M. Caine novel of the same title. Chandler, a dean of Los Angeles crime fiction, makes a cameo appearance in the film -- see the clip, below:

 Check out the clip below, in which Walter spills the details of his crimes:

Below, another rarely seen production shot from the film:

Police guard the wartime rationed canned goods used on the set.

LA Noir: The Bryson

A place where Philip Marlowe would feel at home:

Mike's Historic Buildings: LA Noir: The Bryson: "He drove down to Wilshire and we turned east again.  Twenty-five minutes brought us to the Bryson Tower, a white stucco palace with fr...

Johnny Depp to Play Whitey Bulger After All

Whitey as the godfather.

You've heard it all here before. So, Johnny Depp is going to take another shot at playing a famous gangster.

The money was finally right, according to Deadline Hollywood. 

How do you think this one will stack up next to "The Departed," the other Whitey picture that was made before he was captured?

Paramount signed on to partly finance the deal and the shooting begins in Boston in eight weeks. Does anyone know of any Boston locations that are being lined up for themovie? I'm guessing the courthouse on the waterfront where the actual trial took place would be a prime location for exterior shots.


Scott Cooper is set to direct and Joel Edgerton plays disgraced FBI agent, John Connolly.

It's all based on a very good book titled "Black Mass" by Dick Lehr and Gerald O’Neill. 

The Whitey Bulger story is solid stuff -- it even has a third act now that Whitey's behind bars. 

Horror Hotel: Don't Drink the Water!

The Cecil Hotel in downtown Los Angeles
has been the scene of strange goings on. 

I

t’s probably not overdoing it to say that the Cecil Hotel, recently rebranded as the Cecil Hotel Apartments, is one of L.A.’s spookiest buildings. At least two bona fide serial killers – “Night Stalker” Richard Ramirez in 1985 and Jack Unterweger in 1991 – called it home, and the 95 year-old hotel, built in 1927, has had several murders and its share of jumpers who went out the higher windows and hit the sidewalk below or the hotel’s marquee. One jumper landed on a pedestrian and killed him as well as herself.

The Night Stalker

But one of the truly strangest stories is that of Canadian tourist Elisa Lam.  She went missing from the hotel Jan. 31, 2013, and was found drowned in one of the Cecil’s rooftop water tanks. She had been dead in the tank for two weeks and wasn’t discovered until guests complained about the smell and taste of the hotel’s drinking water and low water pressure in the showers. A maintenance man went up to the roof to investigate and made the grisly discovery.

Security video shot inside a Cecil elevator captured Lam just before she went missing. She appears to be frightened, pushes buttons for all of the floors and seems to be hiding inside the elevator. She steps off of the elevator and makes strange gestures, as though she’s speaking with someone. See video, below.

Some observers say that it would have been impossible for her to make her way to the roof and somehow get inside the water tank unassisted. Below, a local news reporter explains how difficult it would have been for Lam to get inside the water tank.

Police ruled her death an accidental drowning. We’ll probably never know for sure what actually happened that night on the roof of the Cecil.  Below, see Cecil guests’ reactions to drinking, bathing and brushing their teeth with the tainted water from the rooftop tank. CNN gives a rundown on the hotel's tragic history.

Smile For the Camera: A Mugs Gallery From the 1920s

There are mug shots, and then there are mug shots. They've become a standard feature on gossip websites, such as TMZ, where actors, pop singers and other Star Trailer trash get their dirty linens aired.
But mug shots from the olden days tell a different, more engrossing story. Here are some tough characters in the 1920s who got their pictures saved for posterity. It may be just the primitive photographic technology of the day that brings out each subject's most sinister characteristics, but these hombres look like they'd kill you for a Hershey's Candy Bar. Speaking of primitive, the police photographers of that era seemed to take a casual approach to their jobs. There are just a couple of standard poses -- standing and sitting; hat on and hat off.
Unfortunately, there doesn't seem to be any information about these perps. Just use your imagination and assume the worst. Chances are you'll be pretty close to the mark.

Behind the Scenes of 'The Conversation'

I first saw "The Conversation" at the Brattle Cinema in Cambridge, Mass., and I remember it was one of those landmark films that stood out even among the Fellini, Kurosawa and Bergman works that the theater routinely scheduled. The Watergate-era film had Gene Hackman's astonishing performance as Harry Caul, the electronic surveillance expert who finds himself in hot water, and Francis Ford Coppola's spare script and spot-on direction. Check out some little seen production pictures that were snapped at San Francisco locations where the film was shooting.

Crime Writer Ripped Hitch for ‘Flabby Mass of Clichés’

Farley Granger and Robert Walker in 'Strangers on a Train.'

Alfred Hitchcock at work.

A number of celebrated writers have had tortured relationships with Hollywood. Take Raymond Chandler, the writer whose work is closely associated with Los Angeles (he detested the city), and whose crime fiction elevated the genre to an art form.

 
Chandler was lured to the screen trade during a brief period in movie history when the studios thought that great novelists could automatically write great scripts. Some did, but the majority failed and soon slunk back to the burgs from whence they came.

 
Others hung around L.A., growing increasingly despondent and bitter toward the philistines who run the movie business. That was certainly the case with Chandler, who gave us outstanding crime novels, including “The Big Sleep,” “Farewell, My Lovely” and “The Long Goodbye.” He also helped knock off one of the all time greatest film noir scripts, “Double Indemnity.” 

Then he lost his touch and his life and career did a slow fade. Before the frame went black, Chandler crossed paths with Alfred Hitchcock and worked on the screenplay for the British director’s “Strangers on a Train.”

Raymond Chandler

It was six years after Chandler’s collaboration with director Billy Wilder on “Double Indemnity,” which proved to be a fine, if difficult, partnership. But Chandler’s pairing with Hitchcock was a match made in hell.

Below is a letter Chandler sent to the director out of frustration over changes made to his script. A heavy drinker who years earlier lost his job as an oil company executive over his excessive use of alcohol, Chandler could be blunt and thin skinned, as his letter to the director suggests. Clearly, working in a collaborative medium was not his thing.


Source: The Raymond Chandler Papers (2000)
Dec. 6, 1950

Dear Hitch,

In spite of your wide and generous disregard of my communications on the subject of the script of Strangers on a Train and your failure to make any comment on it, and in spite of not having heard a word from you since I began the writing of the actual screenplay—for all of which I might say I bear no malice, since this sort of procedure seems to be part of the standard Hollywood depravity—in spite of this and in spite of this extremely cumbersome sentence, I feel that I should, just for the record, pass you a few comments on what is termed the final script. I could understand your finding fault with my script in this or that way, thinking that such and such a scene was too long or such and such a mechanism was too awkward. I could understand you changing your mind about the things you specifically wanted, because some of such changes might have been imposed on you from without. What I cannot understand is your permitting a script which after all had some life and vitality to be reduced to such a flabby mass of clichés, a group of faceless characters, and the kind of dialogue every screen writer is taught not to write—the kind that says everything twice and leaves nothing to be implied by the actor or the camera. Of course you must have had your reasons but, to use a phrase once coined by Max Beerbohm, it would take a "far less brilliant mind than mine" to guess what they were.
 Regardless of whether or not my name appears on the screen among the credits, I'm not afraid that anybody will think I wrote this stuff. They'll know damn well I didn't. I shouldn't have minded in the least if you had produced a better script—believe me. I shouldn't. But if you wanted something written in skim milk, why on earth did you bother to come to me in the first place? What a waste of money! What a waste of time! It's no answer to say that I was well paid. Nobody can be adequately paid for wasting his time.

Signed,
Raymond Chandler

The Booze, Blood and Bombs of 'Boardwalk Empire'

Here's a link to an article I wrote for Creative Screenwriting Magazine on "Boardwalk Empire" showrunner and former "Sopranos" writer and producer Terence Winter. We chatted about killing off cast members without mercy, growing up in Brooklyn -- he once worked in mob boss Paul Castellano's butcher shop, and "Boardwalk Empire" executive producer Martin Scorsese -- the man has a mind like a steel trap. Winter also wrote the screenplay for Scorsese's upcoming feature film, "The Wolf of Wall Street."

Women of Crime Stand by Their (Hit) Men

THE NEW YORK DAILY NEWS IS TOPS in publishing lurid crime photos, and its photo essay on gangster molls does not break with that tradition. This group of 24 vintage shots betray fierce
loyalty, insouciance under duress and utter contempt for authority. For the most part, these women were gun carriers, holdup lookouts and general crime accomplices who refused to rat, and many of them paid a price for their actions. You'll have to click through the one-photo pages; online publications do that to increase their page views, and as annoying as that can be, this is one of those rare photo essays that is worth the time to browse.

A Taste of Death on Hollywood Boulevard

A visit to the Museum of Death in Hollywood doesn't sound like a particularly cheerful take-in ... and believe me, it isn't.
But if serial killers, mass suicides, autopsy photos and vintage mortician devices are your thing, you will enjoy a thoroughly absorbing hour or so at this humble 6031 Hollywood Blvd. showroom of the macabre.

Photos, videos, newspaper clippings and other assorted memorabilia such as human and animal skulls, caskets, and at least one mummified severed human head, are also there for the viewing.

I toured the MOD today with English music journalist Nina Antonia, who is visiting from London. After studying the exhibits, one must agree the museum offers a unique welcome to the City of Angels.

A chilling display of
John Wayne Gacy's art.

It's hardly great art, but the drawings, paintings and essays by famed mass murderers, including John Wayne Gacy and Lawrence Bittaker are among the first items you'll encounter in the museum, after passing though a room of vintage funerary accoutrements. Gacy's self portrait in clown makeup and costume -- he was a children's entertainer -- is one of the more notorious pieces.

In case you're wondering, Museum of Death owners Cathee Shultz and J.D. Healy came about the original artwork by corresponding with imprisoned serial killers, and sending them art supplies, stamps and $10 money orders.

There are also records and photos documenting the crimes of serial killers Richard Ramirez, Henry Lee Lucas and others.
Those who decide to visit should be strongly cautioned, however. There is a good deal of extremely rough stuff there --  at times it was a struggle to keep the morning's huevos rancheros down.

An instructional video on embalming showing all the gory details plays continuously in one room. Color, posed snapshots of a couple dismembering a man whom they murdered -- what happens at Fotomat doesn't always stay at Fotomat -- are also on display.

An entire room is devoted to Charles Manson, and among the news clippings, coroner's reports and police bulletins are autopsy photos of some Manson Family victims.
The 1997 Heaven's Gate cult mass suicide, the O.J. case, the JFK assassination and the Black Dahlia killing all figure prominently in the museum's exhibits.

If you're expecting a highly polished presentation of the materials contained in the MOD you will be disappointed. The pristine, exhaustively curated  L.A. County Museum, it's not.
Newspaper pages with barking headlines that seem to have been ripped from a daily edition are posted on walls with black office clips holding them up. Most exhibits are chock-full of memorabilia. In short, the galleries seem like an approximation of what a serial killer's bedroom might look like -- odd talismans of the killer's obsessions plastered on the walls and stuffed into every available surface. And here, that makes sense.

Tickets are $15 apiece and parking is free. Don't forget to visit the gift shop -- there really is one.

Leonard's Page Turners Also Lit Up the Screen

Novelist Elmore Leonard created characters that were violent, frightening and hilarious, often all at the same time.
The larger than life personalities in his books frequently made their way to the big screen. I'm mainly thinking about his gangsters, including Chili Palmer and Ray "Bones" Barboni ("Get Shorty"), and Ordell Robbie ("Jackie Brown") to name but a few.
Leonard, who died this week at the age of 87, started his career writing western novels, and his short story, "3:10 to Yuma," was twice adapted to the screen, most recently in the 2007 film starring Russell Crowe.
Let's look back at Ray Barboni, below, in a classic scene from 1995's "Get Shorty," where Miami gangster Barboni (Dennis Farina, who passed away last month) comes to L.A. and terrorizes film producer Harry Zimm (Gene Hackman).

A B Picture That Profoundly Influenced Martin Scorsese

Whenever I see him in interviews, Martin Scorsese never fails to amaze me with the breadth of his film knowledge.
Click on this link to see a short video in which he talks about a crime movie that had a profound effect on the way he perceived, and later, made films. It's called "Murder By Contract," and you've probably never seen it. Above, you can watch a couple of scenes from the movie.

Tarantino's Twists and Turns Add Up Perfectly

Vincent, left, and Jules settle a score.

Some may quibble with “Pulp Fiction”’s herky jerky storyline. It dodges back and forth from the past to the present without warning. The trouble is, at first it’s challenging to figure out exactly what is happening in the present and what took place in the past.
You have to watch it more than one time before the sequence of events starts to make sense – and it does. There is really no “present” in the film. Each sequence, no matter where it fits into the story, past, present or future, is the only present you have to pay attention to.
The Oscar-winning “Pulp Fiction” screenplay is so skillfully written that you barely notice its complex time shifts. You just surf the narrative wave from beginning to end, and come in for a soft landing at the end of a fairly wild ride – is it just a coincidence that the opening music is Dick Dale’s surf guitar blast, “Miserlou”?

Knocked Off-Balance
Director and screenwriter Quentin Tarantino’s non-linear storytelling – he co-wrote the script with Roger Avary – is hardly the artifice some make it out to be. In fact, the darting and weaving storyline serves a purpose, other than keeping the audience slightly off-balance, and the film would not be nearly as effective without it.

Honey Bunny, left, and Pumpkin.

The beginning and ending scenes are part of the same sequence. On an impulse, Pumpkin (Tim Roth) and Honey Bunny (Amanda Plummer) hold up a diner, but their plan goes awry when they unexpectedly meet up with Jules Winnfield (Samuel L. Jackson) and Vincent Vega (John Travolta), two mobbed-up hitmen.

Coffee and Handguns
The beginning sequence shows Honey Bunny and Pumpkin, over coffee and breakfast, hatching a plan to rob the diner. They kiss, brandish weapons, then go to work scaring everyone in the joint. Their plan is to clean out the cash register and grab everyone’s wallet without incident.
The scene cuts away to the opening credits, after which we begin meeting the motley cast of characters who inhabit L.A.’s underbelly.
The story plays out, and we're back at the same diner where we started, but Jules and Vincent, as it turns out, are catching some breakfast there, too. The four characters collide, of course, and the result is as anxiety-provoking and hilarious as the rest of the movie.

Ends at the Beginning
When you piece it together, though, the entire diner sequence actually takes place in about the middle of the story. By the time we reach the last scene we don't know how the diner stand-off between robbers and mobsters will end. But we do know what is going to happen after the scene is over, and we have seen everything that led up to it. But why put this out of sequence scene where it is in the film?

Like Kung-Fu Cain.

The answer, I think, is that it firmly establishes both the movie's theme, which is redemption, and the hero of the story, Jules. By the time we reach that fateful scene we learn that Jules has decided to leave his life of crime behind and "walk the earth like Kung-Fu Cain."

The Wrong Choice
Vincent, on the other hand, is going to keep being a mobster, and, because we've already seen the future, we know that he will meet a dark fate due to that unwise decision.
The actual ending, sequentially, is the death of Vincent and the triumph of Butch (Bruce Willis), the corrupt prizefighter who double-crossed the mob. But the film ends with Jules and Vincent, who are about to part ways as crime partners, exiting the diner into the blinding L.A. sun. It’s a new day, and Jules has found redemption. It’s the perfect place for the film to end.

A DIFFERENT WHITEY FROM BOSTON -- Warner Bros., the studio with a storied history of gangster film production, has tapped James Grey ("We Own the Night," "The Yards" and "Little Odessa") to write and direct "White Devil," inspired by the true story of Dorchester (Daw-chest-ah to the locals) native John Willis, who was adopted by a Chinese family and allegedly rose to the top of the Asian mob in Boston. His nickname? You guessed it: White Devil.

It Took Two Directors to Tell the Murder, Inc. Story

Humphrey Bogart as Dist. Atty. Martin Ferguson

"The Enforcer" is one of the lesser appreciated Bogart films, but it deserves more attention than it gets. Granted, it's no "Maltese Falcon." It would be a tall order equaling "Falcon" director John Huston's artistry. But "Enforcer" directors Bretaigne Windust  and Raoul Walsh (uncredited) pull off an impressive feat in keeping the complex story in balance. Walsh directed the suspenseful -- translation: best -- scenes. Windust was primarily a Broadway director, and perhaps needed help putting the action sequences, including story's conclusion, on film.
The story centers around a crusading district attorney -- aren't all district attorneys crusaders in the movies? Bogart ably fills that role, but it's not much of a stretch for the veteran actor. A taut script, bristling dialog and neatly directed scenes keep this thriller on track, no matter how complex the yarn becomes. It's all based on the real-life Murder, Inc., syndicate that provided hitmen for hire.

The film's structure is complex. Flashbacks within flashbacks are liberally sprinkled throughout. They do the job that they're supposed to do, and just when the film veers perilously close to being a gab-fest -- there's no way around using dialog-driven sequences -- Windust and Walsh pull a rabbit out of the proverbial hat with credible and unexpected plot twists or just plain bone-crunching action. Check out the scene with Rico (Ted De Corsia) inching his way across a lofty ledge on a building's facade. Windust/Walsh keep the tension excruciatingly high throughout. It takes a while before we finally meet the heavy, Mendoza (Everett Sloane), and when we do, he's spectacularly unassuming -- until finally we see him serve up the product his syndicate delivers for cash.
Zero Mostel also does a fine turn as the nervous hitman who quickly realizes that he chose the wrong profession.

British Invasion: Boorman Uncorks Psychedelic Noir

Angie Dickinson, Lee Marvin and Carroll O'Connor
in 'Point Blank' (1967).

Why is L.A. the location of choice for so many crime films and stories about the dark side of life? Maybe it’s just because the bulk of all film production is done in Hollywood and it’s cheaper to shoot in your own backyard.

But that doesn’t explain why so many of the great crime novels take place in the City of Angels. A writer can set his story anywhere in the world without a thought of budgets, weather or union constrictions.

Clockwise from top left, Lee Marvin,
Angie Dickinson, Keenan Wynn and John Vernon.

It might be that L.A. is different from most American cities, especially those that were built long before the two World Wars. They project stability and tradition, while L.A. is still considered part of the Wild West — a desert outpost full of transients, dreamers and hucksters. The city is branded as uncontrolled urban sprawl with a casual atmosphere that fosters a variety of lifestyles and eccentricities. In other words, it’s what the rest of the country thinks is wrong with America. Be that as it may, the city might just be the perfect laboratory in which to examine 20^th century mores.

So, it’s no wonder that British director John Boorman begins "Point Blank" in San Francisco and moves it to the City of Angels. San Francisco may be one of the country’s cradles of personal liberty, but it still has the look and feel of a city built on the bedrock of traditional values.

Staged as a sort of brutally real saga that slips into vaguely hallucinatory passages, "Point Blank" is the sort of altered reality you’d expect to see in a 1967 film, but the director is too good to let meaningless psychedelic spectacle overpower the story.

Walker is double-crossed by his ex.

Lee Marvin’s Walker, the career criminal who wants what is rightfully his, is cool and avoids the obnoxious pleased-with-himself vibe that a lesser actor would bring to the part.  He’s down to earth, deadpan, resourceful and unstoppable.

Some conclude that the entire story is merely Walker’s dream. He’s left alone to die after being double crossed, but of course he gets back on his feet and goes after the ones who did him wrong. 

Keenan Wynn plays Yost, the mysterious agent who always seems to appear on the scene whenever the action is about to be pumped up. Throughout the film, he and Walker never make eye contact — could the agent be a mere figment of Walker’s imagination? But stranger events occur when Walker finds his two-timing wife. Check out the scene with the disappearing furniture – and the disappearing corpse. 

Prior to "Point Blank" Boorman directed only black and white television and the film, "Catch Us If You Can" ("Having a Wild Weekend" in the U.K.), starring The Dave Clark Five. He says that he liked shooting "Point Blank," his first color movie, in the dark because it makes the color palette monochromatic. Trivia fans will want to note that, at one point, the action moves to a house with a swimming pool in Hollywood Hills. It’s the same house that the Beatles lived in during their first tour of America.

Bright yellows and golds prevail in Angie's scenes.

Despite his emphasis on darkness, Boorman uses color as an expressive element throughout the film, and carefully controls the range of tones filling each scene. The film begins in washed out grays and blues, progresses to yellows and golds, especially in Angie Dickinson’s scenes, shifts to greens, and as the action heats up toward the end, reds and oranges prevail. Walker, wearing a red-brick colored jacket seems to fade into the walls as the film comes to its conclusion.

You could call Point Blank a revisionist noir, because it’s in color and is not dialog driven. Perhaps the film's (then) modern-day take on the genre might be the missing link between black and white crime dramas of yesteryear and the sun-drenched Technicolor world of neo-noirs such as "Chinatown" and "L.A. Confidential."

Color aside, "Point Blank" is thoroughly character driven. Walker is relentless in his pursuit of the money he’s owed, but his doggedness only grows more intense even when the money becomes unimportant. He’s driven to get to the bottom of the mystery that has been plaguing him. His world is in shambles, but without this maniacal game of cat and mouse he’s initiated there’s nothing left in his life. Once the battle is over, there will be nothing to celebrate, but he continues because he has no other choice.

'Sopranos' was Groundbreaking Television

It's hard to overstate how important "The Sopranos" was to television and to crime fiction. Before "The Sopranos," was there any show that could make such a morally corrupted character as Tony Soprano, if not likeable, understandable and approachable to a broad audience?

For all of his violence and treachery, we always wanted Tony, the New Jersey mob boss, to somehow get by without getting whacked by rivals or arrested. Maybe it was because James Gandolfini was so entertaining to watch that even though we knew Tony was bad, we couldn't bear to lose our ringside seat at one hell of a sideshow.

The show was also of huge importance to HBO, the cable network that brought the program to millions. It was a huge hit whose popularity would be hard to replicate now. It must have taken guts to present a program that portrayed crime in raw, unfiltered terms, and yet allowed the star to be, at times, quite vulnerable. Also, a lot of Italian-American viewers were less than thrilled with the prospects of another program about Italian mobsters.

When news of his death came yesterday, it brought shock and regret. He was only 51, and a fine actor who won a place in our hearts. And we would never see if he could somehow top his performance as Tony in another series -- maybe one that had nothing to do with crime.

Tony tears into Dr. Melfi.

That question will go unanswered, and James Gandolfini will forever be most remembered as Tony Soprano, the troubled mob boss who sought solace in weekly meetings with his therapist, Dr. Jennifer Melfi (Lorraine Bracco).

The Writer's Guild of America recently voted "The Sopranos" as the best written TV show of all times, and with good reason. But it would never have been as good without Gandolfini. He and the writers continually amazed us over the show's 10 year run by creating TV that went far beyond what others achieved. We won't see that again for a long time.

I Should Have Killed You Yesterday

Leonetti: Not a fan of Whitey.

Philip Leonetti, author and former underboss of the Philadelphia/Atlantic City mob, has never been a fan of James "Whitey" Bulger, the Boston crime boss who's cooling his heels in a Massachusetts jail.
Leonetti penned a missive about the former head of the Hub's Irish mob in the Huffington Post. He crossed paths with Whitey years ago and sized him up as a lowlife drug dealer whom he did not want to do business with. Furthermore, he recommended that the Providence R.I.-based Patriarca crime family give Whitey the big sleep.
Leonetti's story is fascinating reading. It was no secret that Whitey and the Italian mob were anything but paisanos, but it's still a bit enlightening to learn the Genovese crime family's low opinion of Bulger. Read all about it here:

Killing the Myth of Whitey Bulger and Why I Suggested Killing Him 30 Years Ago

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.