Quarry’s Ex by Max Allan Collins

Quarry’s Ex

By Max Allan Collins

Cover art by Gregory Manchess 

Hard Case Crime, September 2011

ISBN: 9780857682864

How best to describe Quarry, the series character of a number of novels by Max Allan Collins, this one the latest?

Well, once he was a hitman but now, at the beginning of the 1980s – and in a poacher turned gamekeeper kind of way – he has morphed into a very proactive protection officer.  Not only does he safeguard the target of a hit – here, a film director specialising in straight-to-video movies who also happens to be married to his ex-wife.  No, he also aims to take out the guy who is aiming to take out the guy he’s protecting.  (That last sentence does make perfect sense; read it through again if you don’t believe me.)  As an added service, and for a further fee, Quarry will even go after the guy who ordered the hit – and that’s when the fun really begins.

And another thing, the source of further fun: the novel is written in the first person, from Quarry’s point of view, and our hero has a rather jaundiced, though some would say well-founded, view of the world and the human animal that inhabits it; and he makes a lot of jokes, some would say smirks, at humanity’s expense.

It is an amusing, fast-paced novel and if your notion of perfect pulp fiction involves guys with deadly weapons gunning for each other, you’re sure to enjoy it.  The suspense is maintained right up to the final pages and there are some unusual twists and surprising reveals along the way – involving sexuality, for one thing.  What you have in essence is a satisfying whodunit, albeit an unusual one.  Here the mystery to be solved is: ‘Who ordered the hit?’

Oh, and Quarry eventually manages to put certain matters in his troubled past to bed, and that in more ways than one (nod, nod; wink, wink).  A good one.

The publisher’s description of the book can be read here.

The Deep Blue Sea

The Deep Blue Sea

Directed by Terence Davies

UK, 2011

Cornerhouse, 26 November 2011

The English do do sex sometimes, as Terence Davies’ adaptation of Terence Rattigan’s play makes clear.

Here it comes wrapped up with class (of course), two species of suicide (attempted and implicit) and vivid period detail (including old money and bitter in glasses with handles).  The play is set in the post-war period; at a guess, I’d say late ‘40s or early ‘50s.

Perhaps you could best describe it as Brief Encounter meets I Am Love, or as an answer to the question, ‘What would have happened if Celia Johnson and Trevor Howard had spent the night in his colleague’s flat in town?’  At any event, it is a wonderful film, the quotidian glitter of ration-ridden Britain lovingly recreated and as beautiful to look at – if that were at all possible – as Rachel Weisz herself.  She plays Hester Collyer, an upper-class dame who falls for Freddie (Tom Hiddleston), a working-class pilot.

If there is one qualm it’s that Freddie’s FUBAR outburst in the art gallery is at odds with the rest of film.  On the other hand, Mr Miller’s bolshie outburst towards Sir William Collyer (Simon Russell Beale) is of a piece with the period (the falling away of deference, the building of a land fit for heroes and all that) and absolutely priceless.  Karl Johnson plays Miller, by the way.   He’s a terrific actor.

Yet in the most moving scene the lines are not so much understated as unstated – you’ve got to read between them, as so often with Rattigan, which is what makes him such an infuriating yet rewarding playwright.  They come when Freddie is scolding Hester for her foolishness.  He lets slip that he’s going off to become a test pilot, even though his nerves have been shot by the war.  Now I ask you, how dark an irony can you get?

Jack Goes Boating

Jack Goes Boating

Directed by Philip Seymour Hoffman

US, 2010

Cornerhouse, 26 November 2011

Philip Seymour Hoffman’s directorial debut is a good effort, indeed a copacetic film.

 He takes the lead role himself, playing Jack, an aging bachelor looking for love.  His friends, a couple he knows, introduce him to Connie (Amy Ryan), who’s a troubled soul herself.  They meet and get along OK.

It is mainly a gentle, touching comedy but with a bitter undercurrent.  For Jack’s friends, the couple who are kindly playing Cupid, have problems of their own to sort out.  In fact, their relationship is pretty much in free fall.

Good performances all around, fairly low key though with real emotion, make for a satisfying film.  John Ortiz is especially good and, of course, the man himself never disappoints.

Take Shelter

Take Shelter

Directed by Jeff Nichols

USA, 2011

Cornerhouse, November 2011

Michael Shannon makes this movie, which for the most part is a riveting study of mental illness.

He has an extraordinarily expressive face, akin to a hero in a Steve Ditko comic.  It is an American face, certainly, and has something of the same sensitive, elemental quality to be found in Sterling Hayden’s face or Van Heflin’s.

The film keeps all its options open (is Curtis suffering from mental illness or experiencing some kind of premonition?) and there are surprises to be had right up until the very end.  But whether the final scene is a cop-out or a contrivance or a telling vindication, I’ll leave it for you to judge.

If Michael Shannon doesn’t get an Oscar for his performance here, there is simply no justice in the world.

Pedestrian by Tom Wainwright

Pedestrian

Written and performed by Tom Wainwright

Royal Exchange Studio

24 November 2011

This monologue by Tom Wainwright fairly reeks of contemporary Britain.

Some parts of it – say the account of the lunch half-hour at Tesco’s – feel like stand-up, but even here the observations on the whole ring true.  There’s a fantastical aspect to it, involving a fish of all creatures, the surrealist’s friend.  What I like best of all about it, though, is the venom: there is a barely audible snap whereby reasonableness turns to exasperation and gradually morphs into a full-on rage.  That’s modern Britain in a thumbnail pic: impatience, spleen, disgust.  We are all Evelyn Waugh now.

Tom Wainwright’s performance, the actual physicality of it, was one of the surprising high-points of the work.  Oh, and he’s in a dream, walking along a street.  I neglected to mention the set-up at the start.

Pedestrian is at the Royal Exchange’s Studio until Saturday 26 November, details here.

The Snowman

The Snowman

By Howard Blake

Birmingham Repertory Theatre Company

The Lowry, 23 November 2011

This magical show is scrumptious Christmas fare for children of all ages.

A boy makes a snowman and – come night-time - he dreams that it (or he) comes to life and they go on adventures.  We go with them, as well.

It began life as an animation and later became a short ballet, and there are echoes of The Sleeping Beauty (in the woodland creatures’ dance, which is like the fairy-tale characters’ dance in Act III of The Sleeping Beauty) and Coppelia (in the ballerina who steps from the music box and comes to life), but there’s much else here too.

There are lots of snowmen for starters: a cowboy, a Chinaman, a Scotsman – who is not averse to head-butting his dancing partner- and a snowman in a top hat.  Also, the costumes and the light show are spectacular and on more than one occasion both boy and snowman take to the air.  Best of all, perhaps, is the choreography: beautifully structured, well thought-out and it moved the story along an’ all.

An absence of speech may present challenges to parents of very inquisitive children.  ‘What is happening?  It makes no sense…  Is that real snow?’ was one lad behind me.  And to be fair, it did defy the known laws of physics, as we understand them: how can snowmen fly?  Why don’t they melt?  All in all, a fun show.

The Snowman is at The Lowry until 26 November, then it goes elsewhere.  Full tour dates are here.

Gallants

Gallants

Da lui toi

Directed by Clement Cheng and Derek Kwok

Hong Kong, 2010

Cornerhouse, 20 November 2011

As a kung-fu film, Gallants does a knock-out job.

There are a lot of laughs and many drops of devilment, though it is rather sketchy in places.

On balance, though, this is a very enjoyable film: there are terrific fight sequences, a wonderful performance by Teddy Robin as an aged kung-fu master who’s brought out of a coma, and a smidgeon of romance. 

Gallants was shown as part of the Asia Triennial Manchester 11 Film Programme, details can be seen here.

The Lost World Revisited

Following seeing The Lost World again a month or so ago, I’ve become quite interested in the work of Charles R. Knight, an artist who painted many prehistoric animals.  A small selection of his work in this area can be seen here.  The brontosauruses (or is it ‘brontosauri’?) are very like those seen in the film.

Gilda

Gilda

Directed by Charles Vidor

USA, 1946

Cornerhouse, 20 November 2011

Screened as part of Cornerhouse’s Matinee Classics season, Gilda is a classy film noir and Rita Hayworth is a dangerous dame and a half.

 

As with many of these kind of films, it is rich and complex but the an unlikely happy ending sweeps all the complexity under the carpet.

Gilda is showing again tomorrow, details here.

George Gershwin

George Gershwin

By Larry Starr

Yale University Press, 2011

ISBN: 9780300111842

‘Listening with a fresh ear to the American chorus of sounds, I should say that American life is nervous, hurried, syncopated, ever accelerando, and slightly vulgar.’

So wrote George Gershwin himself in 1927, in an article entitled ‘Jazz is the Voice of the American Soul’; and it’s interesting that he puts the emphasis firmly on speed, on moving forward and not looking back, on openness and inclusion.  These are American qualities and virtues, and they are to be found in Howard Hawk’s films, in Raymond Chandler’s novels, in Gershwin’s music.

Shakespeare, too, could be vulgar – and more than slightly so – there is as much slang and bawdiness as poetry to be found in his plays.  On completing Larry Starr’s fine study, you realise that Gershwin was an artist of the same order as the Bard.  His style arose out of a mix of classical, jazz and blues influences and these were so intermingled in his work that it is virtually impossible to isolate them.  He was a composer who wrote successfully for stage and screen and he had numerous hits with popular songs.  And his critically acclaimed instrumental works included Rhadpsody in Blue (1924) and An American in Paris (1928).  Yet as an artist he was always developing and moving forward, as Of Thee I Sing (1931), Let ‘Em Eat Cake (1933) and Porgy and Bess (1935) bear witness.  All of which makes his death at the early age of 38 all the more tragic.

This book is a compelling, constantly engaging read and the second chapter in particular, ‘In Search of Gershwin’s Style’, could hardly be improved upon.  Throughout, each page carries an insight or astute remark relating to Gershwin’s work; and every medium and genre he worked in is touched upon, whether it be Broadway musical, opera, film, popular song or classical concert.  There is a robust defence of Porgy and Bess, which reminds us that some of Shakespeare’s works – Othello, The Merchant of Venice, The Tempest – have been regarded as problematic too.  So there’s yet another parallel here.

If you enjoy Gershwin’s work, in whatever form, and want to deepen your understanding of it, then Starr’s book is an ideal port of call.  The final sentence is a just summation of the artist:  Yes, he belongs to the ages.  That pretty much says it all.