The Big Sleep
Raymond Chandler's private detective Philip Marlowe makes his world debut in "The Big Sleep." Although Marlowe does not show the slightest twinge of stage fright, neither he nor Chandler are as polished as they will be after a couple more performances together even though all of their winning attributes are boldly on display here.
The year is 1938, a quaint time in American history when the arbiters of what is naughty and what is nice relegated pornography to the underground economy rather than just a click away as it is on today's computer; a time when porn performers sometimes had to be drugged - and not with the recreational sort of drugs, to strut their stuff, a time when crooked cops took their cut from porn and back room casinos like any other respectable tax collector from any other dysfunctional democracy.
That was then and this is now. With its nostalgic sexual shyness, "The Big Sleep" takes place eons away from today's Las Vegas bachelorette parties where the bride-to-be and her bridal party have a few last hurrahs together in the same room with a bunch of hunky-drunky, naked strangers that they will never ever see again before returning home to Mayberry, USA where the blushing bride can faithfully proclaim her lifetime "I do's" before God and family. Believe it or not, in 1938, people got killed over a little porn. Part of the charm of "The Big Sleep" is that this is such a historical time capsule.
Throw in the nymphomaniacal daughters of a dying millionaire, a few blackmail letters, the murder of the local porn mogul, and it is time to call in Philip Marlowe. As with most Chandler story lines, the first murder is little more than an appetizer plate before the entrée is served.
This original Marlowe has yet to fine tune his yummy, smackmouth wisecracks. Chandler, the World War I linguist, is a graceful as ever with his narrative, but has yet to command the full blast of cajun seasoning that his weary cynicism would sprinkle over his later works. His brief chapters unfold as quickly as the scenes from a movie. And do not forget the trademark, surprise ending that has been waiting under our noses all this time.
Although I have never seen it mentioned anywhere, I believe cinema was a major influence on Chandler's style. The only regret about these racing, cinematic clips is that you will rather quickly consume the entire Chandler/Marlowe oeuvre. Therefore, it is to the noir gourmand's delight to look back and sample the origins of this tasty dish simmering and melding its flavors together for the very first time in "The Big Sleep."
The year is 1938, a quaint time in American history when the arbiters of what is naughty and what is nice relegated pornography to the underground economy rather than just a click away as it is on today's computer; a time when porn performers sometimes had to be drugged - and not with the recreational sort of drugs, to strut their stuff, a time when crooked cops took their cut from porn and back room casinos like any other respectable tax collector from any other dysfunctional democracy.
That was then and this is now. With its nostalgic sexual shyness, "The Big Sleep" takes place eons away from today's Las Vegas bachelorette parties where the bride-to-be and her bridal party have a few last hurrahs together in the same room with a bunch of hunky-drunky, naked strangers that they will never ever see again before returning home to Mayberry, USA where the blushing bride can faithfully proclaim her lifetime "I do's" before God and family. Believe it or not, in 1938, people got killed over a little porn. Part of the charm of "The Big Sleep" is that this is such a historical time capsule.
Throw in the nymphomaniacal daughters of a dying millionaire, a few blackmail letters, the murder of the local porn mogul, and it is time to call in Philip Marlowe. As with most Chandler story lines, the first murder is little more than an appetizer plate before the entrée is served.
This original Marlowe has yet to fine tune his yummy, smackmouth wisecracks. Chandler, the World War I linguist, is a graceful as ever with his narrative, but has yet to command the full blast of cajun seasoning that his weary cynicism would sprinkle over his later works. His brief chapters unfold as quickly as the scenes from a movie. And do not forget the trademark, surprise ending that has been waiting under our noses all this time.
Although I have never seen it mentioned anywhere, I believe cinema was a major influence on Chandler's style. The only regret about these racing, cinematic clips is that you will rather quickly consume the entire Chandler/Marlowe oeuvre. Therefore, it is to the noir gourmand's delight to look back and sample the origins of this tasty dish simmering and melding its flavors together for the very first time in "The Big Sleep."
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