Martin Edwards's Blog, page 203
April 2, 2014
Twisted Nerve - film review
Twisted Nerve is a controversial film from 1968, a horror story about a psychopath in sub-Hitchcock vein. It combines a number of excellent ingredients with some questionable taste. It's almost always a mistake to judge films, or books, from the past by the standards of today, but even in 1968, I think there was something rather disturbing about this movie, not least in its rather dodgy (and, I think, unncessary to the plot) science about the nature of psychopathy and its relationship with disability. It's directed and co-written by Roy Boulting, but much, much darker than the Boulting Brothers' usual fare.
When I first saw this movie, as a student in the Seventies, I was startled to find that the lead character, played by Hywel Bennett, was an ex-Oxford man called Martin. To say that I didn't identify with him would be an under-statement. Not only was the young Hywel Bennett conspicuously handsome, he was playing a character who is seriously disturbed and very dangerous indeed.. A weird, baby-faced guy with an affluent but troubled family background, he becomes obsessed with a pretty young librarian (Hayley Mills) and concocts an elaborate scheme which involves him conning his way into the large house in which her mother (the superb Billie Whitelaw) takes paying guests, and contriving an alibi so as to stab his stepfather (Frank Finlay) to death.
The murder is investigated by a jaundiced cop played by Timothy West, while one of Martin's fellow lodgers is played by Barry Foster. By any standards, it's a terrific cast, and the Hitchcock connection is emphasised by the fact that Foster and Whitelaw appeared in the great man's late film, Frenzy - also about a sociopathic killer - as well by the haunting score, written by Hitchcock's favourite soundtrack composer, Bernard Herrmann.
Twisted Nerve is rather strange, not least because it is slow-moving with occasional bursts of lurid action. Yet it is undeniably chilling, in all sorts of ways. As for Hywel Bennett, his health problems have been well documented for a long time, but in his hey-day in the Sixties, he was not only very good-looking but also a very fine actor. It's sad that he wasn't able to maintain the brilliant standards of the first part of his career, but his best performances are genuinely striking..
When I first saw this movie, as a student in the Seventies, I was startled to find that the lead character, played by Hywel Bennett, was an ex-Oxford man called Martin. To say that I didn't identify with him would be an under-statement. Not only was the young Hywel Bennett conspicuously handsome, he was playing a character who is seriously disturbed and very dangerous indeed.. A weird, baby-faced guy with an affluent but troubled family background, he becomes obsessed with a pretty young librarian (Hayley Mills) and concocts an elaborate scheme which involves him conning his way into the large house in which her mother (the superb Billie Whitelaw) takes paying guests, and contriving an alibi so as to stab his stepfather (Frank Finlay) to death.
The murder is investigated by a jaundiced cop played by Timothy West, while one of Martin's fellow lodgers is played by Barry Foster. By any standards, it's a terrific cast, and the Hitchcock connection is emphasised by the fact that Foster and Whitelaw appeared in the great man's late film, Frenzy - also about a sociopathic killer - as well by the haunting score, written by Hitchcock's favourite soundtrack composer, Bernard Herrmann.
Twisted Nerve is rather strange, not least because it is slow-moving with occasional bursts of lurid action. Yet it is undeniably chilling, in all sorts of ways. As for Hywel Bennett, his health problems have been well documented for a long time, but in his hey-day in the Sixties, he was not only very good-looking but also a very fine actor. It's sad that he wasn't able to maintain the brilliant standards of the first part of his career, but his best performances are genuinely striking..
March 31, 2014
The Widower, DCI Banks, Line of Duty, and other TV crime dramas
The Widower, written by Jeff Pope, and based on a true story, is the latest of the crime dramas coming so thick and fast on British television screens at the moment that I'm finding it difficult to keep up. The first two (of three) episodes have been quite gripping, even though the story follows, in some ways, a slightly predictable pattern. Reece Shearsmith plays the eponymous nurse, yet another of those menacing medical professionals who exploits the availability of drugs in hospitals for nefarious purposes. Sheridan Smith plays his first wife and victim with her customary excellence, and all in all this is a good example of how true crime can be turned into very watchable faction.
I've managed to catch up with another two-parter in the DCI Banks series. Bad Boy benefited from a taut and very well-constructed script by Catherine Tregenna, and the highly effective way in which Banks' personal dilemmas were integrated with the main kidnapping plot, and a sub-plot about a bungled police operation meant that this was probably the most gripping entry in the series so far.
I really ought to have said more about Line of Duty, Jed Mercurio's excellent six-parter about corrupt police officers, which came to an end recently. Keeley Hawes was superb, but so was the cast as a whole, making the most of a convoluted story that cleverly combined in-depth characterisation with twisty plotting. I missed the first series of Line of Duty, which I now very much regret. This was really good telly.
All this and other shows ranging from Shetland and Vera (both of which occupy similar territory to DCI Banks), and the excellent Sherlock to the cosier entertainments supplied by Jonathan Creek, Father Brown and Death in Paradise, and imported shows such as the very good Salamander and the promising Inspector De Luca mean that there is something for all crime fans on the box at the moment. The admirable Lewis may have ended, but a new series of the very well written Endeavour is imminent. I haven't even mentioned American shows such as Elementary and True Detective - and that's because, I must admit, I simply haven't had time to take a look at them.
Anyway, I'll be away from the television for a few days as I go on my travels, but I've scheduled posts for Wednesday and Friday as usual. I may not have internet access,so forgive me if I'm slow to post or reply to any comments - but I will of course always delighted to hear your views.
I've managed to catch up with another two-parter in the DCI Banks series. Bad Boy benefited from a taut and very well-constructed script by Catherine Tregenna, and the highly effective way in which Banks' personal dilemmas were integrated with the main kidnapping plot, and a sub-plot about a bungled police operation meant that this was probably the most gripping entry in the series so far.
I really ought to have said more about Line of Duty, Jed Mercurio's excellent six-parter about corrupt police officers, which came to an end recently. Keeley Hawes was superb, but so was the cast as a whole, making the most of a convoluted story that cleverly combined in-depth characterisation with twisty plotting. I missed the first series of Line of Duty, which I now very much regret. This was really good telly.
All this and other shows ranging from Shetland and Vera (both of which occupy similar territory to DCI Banks), and the excellent Sherlock to the cosier entertainments supplied by Jonathan Creek, Father Brown and Death in Paradise, and imported shows such as the very good Salamander and the promising Inspector De Luca mean that there is something for all crime fans on the box at the moment. The admirable Lewis may have ended, but a new series of the very well written Endeavour is imminent. I haven't even mentioned American shows such as Elementary and True Detective - and that's because, I must admit, I simply haven't had time to take a look at them.
Anyway, I'll be away from the television for a few days as I go on my travels, but I've scheduled posts for Wednesday and Friday as usual. I may not have internet access,so forgive me if I'm slow to post or reply to any comments - but I will of course always delighted to hear your views.
March 29, 2014
Speaking to the Speakers
If anyone had ever told me, some years ago, that one day I'd be giving after dinner speeches, and actually enjoying the experience, I wouldn't have believed them. Until I was in my mid twenties, when work caused me to become an advocate, I had a deep-rooted antipathy to public speaking. And while advocacy involves public speaking, I always saw it as a contest, and handled it that way, focusing on trying to achieve success for my clients. Speaking to an audience is very different, and (for me) more difficult. I used to give quite a few lectures on legal topics, but tended to find it something of an ordeal, despite being familiar with my subject.
Things changed when I started talking about writing, and crime fiction. I still didn't find it easy, but I didn't shrink from it as much. Eventually, I more or less gave up legal lectures, and it's now years since I've given one. I once discussed the paradox with a colleague who is a very good and seemingly nerveless speaker, and his diagnosis was that, when I was talking about something I really loved, rather than merely something I had some knowledge about, it made a huge difference to my mental approach. I think he was right.
All this is by way of preamble to mention that on Thursday night, I delivered the second after dinner speech of my life. The first was on the subject of Sherlock Holmes, but this time I'd been invited to speak at, of all things, the annual banquet of a Cheshire club for after dinner speakers. So it was a bit daunting to be faced with a group who get together solely to develop their speaking skills.
However, all was all right on the night, and the audience and fellow speakers were kind to me, which definitely helped. One particular pleasure was to meet someone who had known my mother, and I found what she had to say about her very poignant and moving. It all made for quite a memorable evening. And, who knows, I may give another after dinner speech one of these days....
Things changed when I started talking about writing, and crime fiction. I still didn't find it easy, but I didn't shrink from it as much. Eventually, I more or less gave up legal lectures, and it's now years since I've given one. I once discussed the paradox with a colleague who is a very good and seemingly nerveless speaker, and his diagnosis was that, when I was talking about something I really loved, rather than merely something I had some knowledge about, it made a huge difference to my mental approach. I think he was right.
All this is by way of preamble to mention that on Thursday night, I delivered the second after dinner speech of my life. The first was on the subject of Sherlock Holmes, but this time I'd been invited to speak at, of all things, the annual banquet of a Cheshire club for after dinner speakers. So it was a bit daunting to be faced with a group who get together solely to develop their speaking skills.
However, all was all right on the night, and the audience and fellow speakers were kind to me, which definitely helped. One particular pleasure was to meet someone who had known my mother, and I found what she had to say about her very poignant and moving. It all made for quite a memorable evening. And, who knows, I may give another after dinner speech one of these days....
March 28, 2014
Forgotten Book - The Walking Stick
The Walking Stick is a novel written by Winston Graham at the peak of his powers and it's very good news that Bello have reissued it, along with many other of his books. I'd seen the film based on it and made in 1970, starring Samantha Eggar and David Hemmings, and really enjoyed it. The book, published three years earlier, was just as good, and even though it is to some extent of its time, it seems to me to have worn very well, as so many books written by really good storytellers do.
By the time he wrote this book, Graham was a very experienced crime writer. If you compare it to Take My Life, which I blogged about recently, it's got more depth and more subtlety. It's a mark of his confidence that he felt able to write in the first person, as a young woman suffering from a disability (her leg has been badly damaged by polio, hence her need for the titular walking stick) and to do so in a way that carries conviction .Deborah, one of three daughters in a wealthy family, compensates for a sense of insecurity with a rather brusque approach, and the way she rebuffs an attractive young man, Leigh, who evidently fancies her, may seem unlikely to some readers, but I found it credible. In the end, however, she succumbs to his advances.
Leigh, unfortunately, is a bit of a dodgy character. He's an artist - but how good are his paintings? And how reliable are his accounts of his previous life? From the outset, it's clear that there is more to him than meets the eye. Graham's portrayal of Leigh reminded me of Francis Iles' portrayal of Johnnie in Before the Fact, and I did wonder if the earlier book was a slight influence, even thought the plots are very different, and the build-up here is slower than in the Iles classic. Even so, I gulped the story down..
Graham is interested in the moral choices that people make, and through careful character-building, he makes us believe in the choices - both good and bad, wise and foolish - that his narrator makes. Yet there's nothing preachy about this story - it's a straightforward yarn, yet told so fluently that it also makes you think a bit. Not too much, though - first and foremost, Graham was an entertainer. And a very accomplished one too.
By the time he wrote this book, Graham was a very experienced crime writer. If you compare it to Take My Life, which I blogged about recently, it's got more depth and more subtlety. It's a mark of his confidence that he felt able to write in the first person, as a young woman suffering from a disability (her leg has been badly damaged by polio, hence her need for the titular walking stick) and to do so in a way that carries conviction .Deborah, one of three daughters in a wealthy family, compensates for a sense of insecurity with a rather brusque approach, and the way she rebuffs an attractive young man, Leigh, who evidently fancies her, may seem unlikely to some readers, but I found it credible. In the end, however, she succumbs to his advances.
Leigh, unfortunately, is a bit of a dodgy character. He's an artist - but how good are his paintings? And how reliable are his accounts of his previous life? From the outset, it's clear that there is more to him than meets the eye. Graham's portrayal of Leigh reminded me of Francis Iles' portrayal of Johnnie in Before the Fact, and I did wonder if the earlier book was a slight influence, even thought the plots are very different, and the build-up here is slower than in the Iles classic. Even so, I gulped the story down..
Graham is interested in the moral choices that people make, and through careful character-building, he makes us believe in the choices - both good and bad, wise and foolish - that his narrator makes. Yet there's nothing preachy about this story - it's a straightforward yarn, yet told so fluently that it also makes you think a bit. Not too much, though - first and foremost, Graham was an entertainer. And a very accomplished one too.
March 26, 2014
Jonathan Creek and Living Happily Ever After
Jonathan Creek has,with its latest series, attracted a lot of flak, but I thought the final episode, The Curse of the Bronze Lamp, was by far the best of the three episodes we've seen this year. It's no coincidence, I'm sure, that writer David Renwick borrowed the title of this one from Carter Dickson, aka John Dickson Carr, the master of the locked room mystery, whose work has been such an influence on Jonathan Creek - not only because of the intricate plots, but also because both Carr and Renwick share a love of humour.
This story scored because there was a strong central mystery - a minister's clever wife is kidnapped, and incarcerated in a confined space (although admittedly one with a highly convenient opening that was necessary for the plot to work.) There was plenty of mystifying elements, including a sudden death in a bath, a moving corpse, a mysterious pink butterfly and identical twins both played by June Whitfield. What more could anyone want? Well, a good plot, of course. I thought that Renwick delivered.
Some criticism of the first two episodes was overdone, in my opinion. The locked room mystery is inherently artificial and if John Dickson Carr's stories were adapted for TV nowadays, they would attract plenty of criticism because of their implausibility. But part of the genius of Carr (and Renwick) lies in the ingenious ways in which they distract attention from the sheer unlikelihood of their scenarios. Here, a funny sub-plot including the sex-starved wife Josie Lawrence was very effective.
Having said all that, I accept that Jonathan Creek has lost its novelty value. And part of the problem lies in the fact that Jonathan is now happily married. His wife is delightful, and here she was better integrated into the storyline than in previous episodes. But how many top detectives are happily married (remembering that even the uxurious Wexford was tempted elsewhere, and so was the grumpily faithful Jim Taggart)? Speaking of John Dickson Carr, Dr Gideon Fell was married - but his wife pretty much disappeared from sight after a book or two. Father Brown never married, of course, and we all know about Sherlock.
Yes, there are some happily married cops,but not that many. Why? The answer is surely simple. Readers and viewers prefer conflict to happiness. In the Golden Age, Inspector French and Superintendent Wilson were very good husbands, but not the most exciting chaps to read about, not by a long way. The unresolved sexual tension between Jonathan and Caroline Quentin in the early shows was part of their appeal. That's been lost now, and all we have is a bit of mild bickering, which is less gripping.
This is a dilemma that countless writers have to grapple with - including me. For what is to be the fate of Hannah Scarlett's relationship with Daniel Kind in the Lake District Mysteries? Can they find true love and yet remain interesting to readers? I'm mulling this over right now....
This story scored because there was a strong central mystery - a minister's clever wife is kidnapped, and incarcerated in a confined space (although admittedly one with a highly convenient opening that was necessary for the plot to work.) There was plenty of mystifying elements, including a sudden death in a bath, a moving corpse, a mysterious pink butterfly and identical twins both played by June Whitfield. What more could anyone want? Well, a good plot, of course. I thought that Renwick delivered.
Some criticism of the first two episodes was overdone, in my opinion. The locked room mystery is inherently artificial and if John Dickson Carr's stories were adapted for TV nowadays, they would attract plenty of criticism because of their implausibility. But part of the genius of Carr (and Renwick) lies in the ingenious ways in which they distract attention from the sheer unlikelihood of their scenarios. Here, a funny sub-plot including the sex-starved wife Josie Lawrence was very effective.
Having said all that, I accept that Jonathan Creek has lost its novelty value. And part of the problem lies in the fact that Jonathan is now happily married. His wife is delightful, and here she was better integrated into the storyline than in previous episodes. But how many top detectives are happily married (remembering that even the uxurious Wexford was tempted elsewhere, and so was the grumpily faithful Jim Taggart)? Speaking of John Dickson Carr, Dr Gideon Fell was married - but his wife pretty much disappeared from sight after a book or two. Father Brown never married, of course, and we all know about Sherlock.
Yes, there are some happily married cops,but not that many. Why? The answer is surely simple. Readers and viewers prefer conflict to happiness. In the Golden Age, Inspector French and Superintendent Wilson were very good husbands, but not the most exciting chaps to read about, not by a long way. The unresolved sexual tension between Jonathan and Caroline Quentin in the early shows was part of their appeal. That's been lost now, and all we have is a bit of mild bickering, which is less gripping.
This is a dilemma that countless writers have to grapple with - including me. For what is to be the fate of Hannah Scarlett's relationship with Daniel Kind in the Lake District Mysteries? Can they find true love and yet remain interesting to readers? I'm mulling this over right now....
March 24, 2014
Inspector De Luca - BBC Four TV review - and historical crime
Inspector De Luca is a brand new BBC Four series that began on Saturday evening with An Unauthorised Investigation. It's an Italian production, and there are four two-hour shows, based on the character created by Carlo Lucarelli and played (very well, I thought) by the likeable Alessandro Preziosi. Lucarelli is, I'm aware, a very successful novelist, but I've never read him. I was drawn to watch really by the fact that the series is set in pre-war Italy, when Mussolini reigned supreme.
This period coincides, of course, with the Golden Age of detective fiction, and although this story didn't have a Golden Age feel to it, I've become interested in learning about the politics of the 30s, and the impact that people like Mussolini had, both in their own countries, and further afield. Several Golden Age writers - E.R. Punshon, R.C.Woodthorpe and Ronald Knox among them - wrote scathingly about Il Duce, but despite (or because of) his warped ideology he exerted an influence on people like Mosley and his followers in Britain. What must it have been like to live in Italy under his rule?
Inspector De Luca left us in no doubt that this was a deeply unhealthy society, where fear made people terrified of expressing anything less than unswerving devotion to a man who, in many ways, was as ridiculous as he was dangerous. De Luca himself is not a fan of Il Duce, but he is no saint either. He is a pragmatic police officer, and he manages (more or less) to keep his scorn to himself. I found the tension created by the claustrophobic political climate to be more interesting than the plot, which concerned the discovery on a beach at Riminii of a prostitute's corpse. De Luca's investigation soon brings him into very close contact with a glamorous countess whose seducative attention he finds hard to resist. But is she herself a victim, or a culprit?
Italy is one of my favourite countries, and it's so photogenic that makes an ideal background for a series of this sort. I liked De Luca as a character, but this was a case - in my opinion - where the history was more compelling than than the mystery. At two hours, the story felt rather drawn-out. Will I watch again? Maybe, but there are a lot of crime dramas on the screen at present - a good thing, my only regret is that none of them are based on my books! - and hard choices have to be made. I've just caught up with the very different, and quite excellent, Line of Duty, and Inspector De Luca didn't have the same wow factor. But it's a well-made and well-acted show, and if you like history, or Italy, it's worth taking a look to see what you reckon to it.
This period coincides, of course, with the Golden Age of detective fiction, and although this story didn't have a Golden Age feel to it, I've become interested in learning about the politics of the 30s, and the impact that people like Mussolini had, both in their own countries, and further afield. Several Golden Age writers - E.R. Punshon, R.C.Woodthorpe and Ronald Knox among them - wrote scathingly about Il Duce, but despite (or because of) his warped ideology he exerted an influence on people like Mosley and his followers in Britain. What must it have been like to live in Italy under his rule?
Inspector De Luca left us in no doubt that this was a deeply unhealthy society, where fear made people terrified of expressing anything less than unswerving devotion to a man who, in many ways, was as ridiculous as he was dangerous. De Luca himself is not a fan of Il Duce, but he is no saint either. He is a pragmatic police officer, and he manages (more or less) to keep his scorn to himself. I found the tension created by the claustrophobic political climate to be more interesting than the plot, which concerned the discovery on a beach at Riminii of a prostitute's corpse. De Luca's investigation soon brings him into very close contact with a glamorous countess whose seducative attention he finds hard to resist. But is she herself a victim, or a culprit?
Italy is one of my favourite countries, and it's so photogenic that makes an ideal background for a series of this sort. I liked De Luca as a character, but this was a case - in my opinion - where the history was more compelling than than the mystery. At two hours, the story felt rather drawn-out. Will I watch again? Maybe, but there are a lot of crime dramas on the screen at present - a good thing, my only regret is that none of them are based on my books! - and hard choices have to be made. I've just caught up with the very different, and quite excellent, Line of Duty, and Inspector De Luca didn't have the same wow factor. But it's a well-made and well-acted show, and if you like history, or Italy, it's worth taking a look to see what you reckon to it.
March 22, 2014
The New Case-Book of Sherlock Holmes
Over the years, I've loved writing Sherlock Holmes pastiches, and the response to them has been truly gratifying. Due to pressure of work, I've had to turn down a number of commissions to return to Sherlock lately, but I hope to get back to him before too long. In the meantime, the fact that some readers have been keen to read the Sherlockiana that I have written has stirred me into action.
The result is The New Case-Book of Sherlock Holmes, an ebook that gathers together the stories and also a variety of additional items. I'm especially thrilled that David Stuart Davies, one of the country's leading experts on Holmes, and himself a crime writer of note, has contributed a wonderful introduction to the book. I'm delighted by David's reaction to the stories - one or two of which he originally commissioned when he was editor of that much-missed magazine Sherlock.
The ebook also contains several articles, and whilst nobody will ever do it better (or as well as) Conan Doyle, nevertheless I hope that it will keep Sherlock fans entertained. At the moment, it looks like publication day will be 10 April.
March 21, 2014
Forgotten Books - Dover and the Unkindest Cut of All
One of the late Robert Barnard's favourite humorous crime novels was Joyce Porter's Dover and the Unkindest Cut of All. I read the Bello ebook edition on holiday recently, and it's my choice for today's Forgotten Book. This was her third book featuring DCI Wilfred Dover of Scotland Yard, and was first published in 1967. I really enjoyed it, and felt it lived up to Bob's praise.
I first encountered the character of Dover, improbably, on television. In the Sixties, the BBC had a show called Detective, which I came across as a teenager some years after it began. The series introduced me to some fascinating detectives and writers, and it's a matter for great regret that there are no DVD versions available. In fact, I gather that many of the original shows have been wiped, although one hopes that bootleg copies may exist somewhere, and will eventually resurface. Even if the production values would now seem dated, this was a series of real quality.
The point about Dover is that he is an anti-hero, fat, lazy and rude. The story opens when he and his long-suffering wife are on their way for a seaside holiday.a trip interrupted when someone commits suicide in front of their eyes, throwing himself into the sea. The dead man proves to be a young police officer, Dover is, much to his disgust, dragged into the inquiry into what caused the young chap to kill himself.
Comic crime is very difficult to write. It's much easier to make a mess of it than a success. And because humour is subjective, it's extremely difficult to write a comic mystery that will have widespread appeal. Yet after nearly half a century, this story struck me as entertaining and genuinely funny. A quick, easy read, with plenty of enjoyable scenes. I don't know much about Joyce Porter (though I do know she came from Marple in Cheshire, a nice place where contemporary crime writers Chris Simms and Michael Walters live) but at her best, she was a fun writer, and though I don't know of anyone who knew her personally, I suspect she was a fun person as well.
I first encountered the character of Dover, improbably, on television. In the Sixties, the BBC had a show called Detective, which I came across as a teenager some years after it began. The series introduced me to some fascinating detectives and writers, and it's a matter for great regret that there are no DVD versions available. In fact, I gather that many of the original shows have been wiped, although one hopes that bootleg copies may exist somewhere, and will eventually resurface. Even if the production values would now seem dated, this was a series of real quality.
The point about Dover is that he is an anti-hero, fat, lazy and rude. The story opens when he and his long-suffering wife are on their way for a seaside holiday.a trip interrupted when someone commits suicide in front of their eyes, throwing himself into the sea. The dead man proves to be a young police officer, Dover is, much to his disgust, dragged into the inquiry into what caused the young chap to kill himself.
Comic crime is very difficult to write. It's much easier to make a mess of it than a success. And because humour is subjective, it's extremely difficult to write a comic mystery that will have widespread appeal. Yet after nearly half a century, this story struck me as entertaining and genuinely funny. A quick, easy read, with plenty of enjoyable scenes. I don't know much about Joyce Porter (though I do know she came from Marple in Cheshire, a nice place where contemporary crime writers Chris Simms and Michael Walters live) but at her best, she was a fun writer, and though I don't know of anyone who knew her personally, I suspect she was a fun person as well.
March 19, 2014
CADS and the CADS dinner
Anyone who enjoys classic crime fiction - and probably anybody who enjoys crime fiction generally - is likely to find CADS, a fanzine edited by Geoff Bradley, a mine of information and entertainment. I missed its first issue, more than 20 years ago,but I contributed an article to issue 6 and have been a devotee of this irregular magazine for crime fans ever since. It really is a terrific read. It doesn't have a website,but I'll be happy to give Geoff's contact details to anyone who gets in touch with me.
The latest issue of CADS, number 67, is as usual full of good things. An example is Curt Evans' article about the novels of Emma Lou Fetta. If you've never heard of Emma Lou, well, neither had I. That's the beauty of CADS - you discover things that you would really never find elsewhere. The list of the contributors is a roll-call of the leading experts, not just in Britain but elsewhere, of crime fiction's most knowledgable people. To take a few names at random from this issue - Bob Adey, the world's greatest expert on the locked room mystery, Arthur Vidro, editor of Give Me That Old-Time Detection, John Cooper and Barry Pike, authors of Collecting Detective Fiction, John Curran, the leading expert on Dame Agatha, Liz Gilbey and Philip L. Scowcroft, plus many more. Fascinating.
A tradition has grown up of crime fans meeting once a year for dinner in London - it's organised by Tony Medawar, and is known as the CADS dinner. I managed to attend this year,and took these photos. As usual the evening was great fun. The only snag was that there wasn't time to have a long conversation with everyone present, but the company was certainly excellent. And among those attending were Geoff, Barry Pike - and Doug Greene, well-known as the man behind that wonderful publisher Crippen and Landru, and biographer of John Dickson Carr.
Doug's contribution to crime fiction scholarship is to be honoured later this year by way of a festschrift compiled by Curt Evans. The list of contributors is very impressive, and the range of crime fiction subjects eclectic. I'm really looking forward to reading what they have to say. In the meantime, there is enough in CADS 67 to keep me happily occupied for quite a while.
March 17, 2014
Au revoir Salamander - thoughts after the final episode
Salamander finished its twelve-part run at the week-end, and I must say at the outset that, despite a few reservations, I really enjoyed this Belgian thriller, and I'm glad to hear that a follow-up series is proposed. Really, this was three stories in one. First, the hero Paul Gerardi's quest to solve the mysteries surrounding the enigmatic group known as Salamander. Second, the machinations of the people who had their own reasons for attacking that group. And third, the backstory of the mastermind behind the robbery which was meant to destroy Salamander.
In commenting on Shetland and DCI Banks the other day, I mentioned the increasing popularity of two-part crime series. The snag, of course, with a twelve-part series is that you need a very strong story to keep the viewer interested. Fortunately, Salamander rose to the challenge - although I have a sneaking suspicion that ten parts could have done the job. It moved a bit slowly in the last four or five episodes,and I felt that too much time was devoted to the backstory in war-time.
In terms of writing technique, I found it interesting to compare the show with Laura Lippman's After I'm Gone, which also relied heavily on flashbacks. On the whole, the novel worked better, because the flashbacks were integrated more subtly into the narrative, and did not occupy more time than was necessary. Having said that, the idea of corruption at the heart of a national establishment is one that has fascinated me for years, and I've often toyed with writing a thriller about it myself. Maybe one day...
One key factor that Salamander and After I'm Gone have in common is the focus on a very appealing and dogged detective's relentless hunt for the truth about a complex mystery. The two stories are very different, but the appeal of detective work is universal - at least when it's done as well as this.
A final observation - my original blog post about Salamander is now the second most viewed post in the history of this blog. Blogger stats are far from totally reliable, since they miss out some links, but there's not much doubt that I'm far from alone in having found this a very watchable series..
In commenting on Shetland and DCI Banks the other day, I mentioned the increasing popularity of two-part crime series. The snag, of course, with a twelve-part series is that you need a very strong story to keep the viewer interested. Fortunately, Salamander rose to the challenge - although I have a sneaking suspicion that ten parts could have done the job. It moved a bit slowly in the last four or five episodes,and I felt that too much time was devoted to the backstory in war-time.
In terms of writing technique, I found it interesting to compare the show with Laura Lippman's After I'm Gone, which also relied heavily on flashbacks. On the whole, the novel worked better, because the flashbacks were integrated more subtly into the narrative, and did not occupy more time than was necessary. Having said that, the idea of corruption at the heart of a national establishment is one that has fascinated me for years, and I've often toyed with writing a thriller about it myself. Maybe one day...
One key factor that Salamander and After I'm Gone have in common is the focus on a very appealing and dogged detective's relentless hunt for the truth about a complex mystery. The two stories are very different, but the appeal of detective work is universal - at least when it's done as well as this.
A final observation - my original blog post about Salamander is now the second most viewed post in the history of this blog. Blogger stats are far from totally reliable, since they miss out some links, but there's not much doubt that I'm far from alone in having found this a very watchable series..
