I recently passed by
the street in South Philadelphia where the Colonial movie theater used to sit.
The old movie house was torn down some years ago and an apartment complex now
sits on the site.
I spent many hours of my childhood in the
1950s and 60s in that theater. I saw Dr No and the other Sean
Connery-James Bond movies there. I saw John Wayne in The Alamo there.
I also saw a good number of crime films there.
In the 1960s and 70s, a block away from the
Colonial, was a Cheesesteak sandwich shop that didn’t sell cheesesteaks or
anything else. The store was a well-known front for the headquarters of a Cosa
Nostra capo named Frank Sindone, who oversaw all loan
sharking in Philadelphia and South Jersey.
While moviegoers enjoyed crime films in a
darkened theater on 11th Street, the true-life criminals were
meeting just down the block on 10th Street.
Although the vast majority of South
Philadelphians were and are honest, hard-working and law-abiding people, such
as my parents, South Philly was and is the hub of organized crime in the
Philadelphia area. As an aspiring writer, I grew up in South Philly with an
interest in both reel and real criminals.
So as a lifelong student of crime, I was
certainly drawn towards Crime Wave: A Filmgoer’s Guide to the Great
Crime Movies (I.B. Tauris, 288 pp. $22.50). The book,
written by film critic Howard Hughes (not to be confused with the eccentric
billionaire), offers a companion book to one’s crime film home collection.
As Hughes notes in his preface, the world of
crime is full of unpleasant people, yet crime movies hold a special place in
cinema audiences’ affections. The movies Hughes chose to cover in the book are
those he considers seminal Hollywood films, both in their genre and respective
eras.
"Crime Wave includes the
classic gangster flicks of the thirties and forties, often detailing
bootlegging, robbery and smuggling: The Public Enemy, High Sierra,
White Heat," Hughes wrote. "I also trace the development of the
post-war film noir style, from The Maltese
Falcon and Kiss Me Deadly to the knowing
post-modernism of Chinatown and L.A.
Confidential."
"There are tough B-movies from the thrifty
fifties, such as The Big Combo; tales of gangster revenge (Point
Blank and Get Carter) and Quentin Tarantino’s
genre-referential Pulp Fiction. There are heist and caper movies,
epitomized by The Asphalt Jungle and Ocean’s
Eleven. Also discussed are lone, rule-breaking cops (Dirty Harry),
buddy cops (Lethal Weapon), global crime (On Her Majesty’s Secret
Service), blaxpoitation action (Shaft) and even a gangster love
story: Bonnie and Clyde."
And as Hughes tells his readers, in the book’s
chapters you’ll come into contact with the crime movie stars like Jimmy Cagney
on top of the world, Humphrey Bogart pursuing the black bird, Sterling Hayden
prowling the asphalt jungle, Lee Marvin escaping Alcatraz, Clint Eastwood
feeling lucky, Michael Caine spilling blood on the Tyne, Joe Pesci getting
whacked and Robert De Niro being a wiseguy.
For me, Jimmy Cagney was one of the best cinema
gangsters. Although he was a short man, he had great film presence. The
baby-faced dancer and former boxer from the Lower East Side of New York was
superb in The Public Enemy, Angels With Dirty Faces and The
Roaring Twenties. He was a cocky, strutting tough guy. He is
unforgettable.
An older, heavier Cagney revisited the gangster
film in 1949 with his brilliant performance in White Heat, which
Hughes states is Cagney’s greatest film. I’m inclined to agree. "Top of
the world, Ma!" The film is a must for all crime film buffs.
Hughes does a good job of explaining the
background to the crime films, from their inspirations from other films, novels
and true stories to the people behind the scenes of the film’s production. From
studio bosses to the directors, writers and money men, we see how the films
developed into the classics we love today.
I especially enjoyed his chapter on 1971’s Get
Carter. Michael Caine was terrific as a British villain out to avenge his
brother’s death. Caine, like Cagney, grew up among real hoods and said that up
to Get Carter, British gangsters were portrayed as stupid or funny
and he knew some who were neither.
His Jack Carter character in the film is a mean
guy with a mission. Those viewers only familiar with Caine in his more recent
elderly roles may be surprised at his dark side. Caine is all psychotic killer
here.
As Hughes points out, the director, Mike Hodges,
references great detective fiction in the film, with Caine reading Raymond
Chandler’s Farewell My Lovely on a train and there are two
rival gangs, as in Dashiell Hammett’s Red Harvest, with Carter,
like the Continental-Op, trapped between the two.
Mike Hodges also directed Caine in another
somewhat lighter crime film the following year. 1972’s Pulp also
references detective fiction, but in this film, Caine portrays a writer of pulp
crime fiction. I love the film and get a kick out of the jokes at the expense
of writers. When Caine is hired to ghost-write the autobiography of a movie
star/gangster (sort of a latter-day George Raft), he gets involved in murder
and political intrigue on the island of Malta.
I love Caine’s voice-over narration, which does
not quite match what viewers see on the screen. (The voice-over talks of his
drinking champagne, but Caine is seen clearly drinking beer). This is a device
later used to less effect in a Tom Selleck crime comedy.
"The writer's life would be
ideal," Caine tells us. "But for the writing."
When Caine points out a relevant fact, he's asked how he knew this.
"I write crap like this every day. It's my
job." Caine, the pulp writer, replies drolly.
Hodges and Caine were set to make another film
together based on the life on British traitor and spy Kim Philby. According to
Hughes, Philby, an upper class twit then living as a defector in the Soviet
Union, vetoed the casting of Caine.
Hughes quotes Caine as saying, "It seemed
he didn’t like the idea of someone of my class playing him, which I thought was
spoken like a true communist."
Hodges would go on to direct Clive Owen in Croupier, another
interesting crime film with a writer for a protagonist. Perhaps because Owens
wore a tuxedo as a casino croupier in the film, the speculation began that
Owens would or should play James Bond. Although I thought Daniel Craig was fine
as James Bond in Casino Royale – I think he was widely accepted in
large part because the producers made a true thriller rather than a cartoon – I
believe Owen would have been far better as he fits Ian Fleming’s physical
description of Bond.
Owen is now set portray another of my childhood
fictional crime heroes, Philip Marlowe. He is said to star in a series of films
based on the tough, wisecracking private detective of the 1940s from the novels
by Raymond Chandler. I’m looking forward to seeing the films.
In his chapter on global crime, Hughes chooses
the 1969 James Bond film, On Her Majesty’s Secret Service (OHMSS). Hughes
notes that of all the actors to play Bond, George Lazenby is the least
remembered and OHMSS is the most overlooked of the Bond films.
"And yet in its depiction of Bond’s battle
with corruption, extortion and organized crime on a global scale, OHMSS has
aged much better than its contemporaries and remains one of the most elaborate
and exciting crime thrillers of the sixties," Hughes writes.
The film is one of my favorites and I wish that
Connery had started in it, as I would have loved to seen him with Diana Rigg
and Telly Savalas as Blofeld. But I always thought Lazenby did a fine job, all
things considered.
He was not an actor, and he was following Connery in
the role. Had he stayed with the series, he would have become a better actor
and I’ve no doubt he would have made the role his own. (And we would not have
had to endure Roger Moore’s lighthearted and lightweight portrayal of Bond).
"Bond is a crime-busting secret agent on a
grand scale – a very distant relative of the G-man heroes of old," Hughes
writes.
Lazenby looked like Bond, and he was very good in
the fight scenes. But it was the director, as Hughes rightfully points out,
that made OHMSS one of the best film adaptations of the
Fleming novels. Peter Hunt, who served as the editor of the previous Bond
films, was faithful to the novel and truly captured the feel and flavor of the
Fleming/Bond world.
In OHMSS, we find Bond chasing
Blofeld, the head of the international criminal organization SPECTRE, when he
comes across a woman intent on killing herself. Bond saves her and discovers
that her father is Marc Ange Draco, the head of the Union Corse,
one of the biggest crime syndicates in Europe. He is pleased with Bond and
tries to bribe him into marrying his daughter Tracy (Diana Rigg).
Bond of course refuses, stating that he doesn’t
need the money and he has a bachelor’s taste for freedom. Just see more of her,
Draco pleads, explaining that she has been self-destructive, but he senses
something in her changed when she meets Bond.
Bond asks if he knows the whereabouts of
Blofeld, who is a competitor of sorts to Draco. Draco claims not to know and
says that if he did, "I would not tell Her Majesty’s Secret Service,"
he sneers. "But I might tell my future son-in-law."
OHMSS is a dark film, Hughes writes, beginning with an attempted suicide and
ending with a wedding-day murder. Although From Russia With Love is
my favorite Bond film and novel, OHMSS is one of the better
films in the series and if Connery had been in it, it may very well have been
the best.
"It’s all right," Bond tells the
passing police officer as he sits in his car, cradling his bride who had just
been shot and killed by Blofeld.
"There’s no hurry you see… we have all the
time in the world."
Hughes offers a chapter on another of my
favorite films, 1967’s Point Blank. Like Caine’s Carter, Lee
Marvin’s Walker is one bad guy. He’s out for revenge and to get his money while
systematically bringing down a crime syndicate in John Boorman’s classic film.
Marvin, a Marine veteran of the WWII war in the Pacific, was the perfect
hard-looking antihero.
Hughes also offers a chapter on 1971’s Dirty
Harry, one of my favorite Don Siegel crime films. As Hughes rightly
notes, this was the most influential cop movie of the 1970s. It captured the
mood of the country as many Americans believed that criminals had more rights
than crime victims and that the police were hampered by liberal laws. Clint
Eastwood was excellent as Dirty Harry, the cop they gave all of the dirty jobs
to. Unfortunately, I didn’t care for any of the sequels.
Hughes also writes about Siegel’s other great
crime films, such as 1968’s Coogan’s Bluff, which also starred
Eastwood.
I also liked 1968’s Madigan with
Richard Widmark and Harry Guardino, a good character actor who also appeared
in Dirty Harry. (I was told that Guardino was our second
cousin on my mother’s side).
There are also interesting and informative
chapters on other great films and on films that I’m not so keen on, such
as Pulp Fiction and Ocean’s Eleven.
Tarantino, it seems to me, is all style and pop
culture references, and not much else. And the less said about Ocean’s
Eleven and the sequels the better. For that matter, I didn’t
particularly care for Frank Sinatra’s original film either.
Hughes also writes chapters on The
Godfather, The Godfather Part II, and what I
consider the best crime film ever made, 1990’s GoodFellas. I’ve
written about these great films before, and I will again in another column.
Unlike Hughes, I would not lump Sergio Leone’s Once Upon a Time in
America with these great films. I would add Scorsese’s Casino.
So if you are a crime film aficionado, Howard
Hughes’s Crime Wave, with its photos, listings of movie
credits and informative background material, should be a part of your library.
Note: The above column originally appeared in The
Orchard Press Online Mystery Magazine in 2007.
.webp)
