Friday, February 7, 2020

Vintage sleaze

I've read a little James Ellroy before. A short story collection based around his novella "Dick Contino's Blues." Contino was a real musician and actor, one of his movies having been immortalized on Mystery Science Theatre 3000. Speaking of movies I've also seen the 1997 adaptation of LA Confidential. And I once read an interview with him where he kept bringing the convo back to how much manly heterosexual sex he was having with his girlfriend, which tends to make one wonder.

The Big Nowhere shares the Confidential format of jumping from the POV of one protagonist to another, three in all. Danny Upshaw is a sheriff's deputy investigator, and the most ethical of the three. Mal Considine works for the DA's office and is marked by ambition and being in an ugly custody battle. Buzz Meeks has connections to both Howard Hughes and Mickey Cohen, and has a certain laid back rogue appeal.

Between them and other figures in LA's, um, justice system, they follow two cases. One is a Res Scare investigation against a film industry union that does have Communists leading it, but which is mostly under fire so that studio bosses can stiff them on contracts. (It's more timely now than you might expect.) The other is a sex-murder case with a jazz musician as victim, a crime the details of which break the Yikes Meter. Upshaw is initially the only one interested in the latter, which is why I'm calling him the most ethical, but there are signs the two cases might not be completely separate.

It's a dark and cynical story, but in an engaging way. There's a sense of things always moving in the background. And a lot of fascinating if none-too-sweet minor characters, like Terry Lux, an alleged doctor with a clinic and maybe not the strongest set of morals.

2 comments:

semiconscious said...

yes, mr ellroy does indeed have a pretty high opinion of himself, which i enjoy. & that dick contino stuff was definitely eye-opening, eh?...

he's continued to stick to his triple-protagonist formula, & is now 2/3 of the way through his l.a. quartet prequel trilogy. me, i'm 2/3 of the way through his underworld u.s.a. trilogy (which's possibly even more twisted). i find taking breaks between his books somewhat a necessity. &, yeah, there's always lots moving 'round in the background. with much of it somehow mysteriously connected to dudley smith...

right now, i'm finally reading 'the dickens of detroit', elmore leonard, what jim thompson was to rural america, leonard appears to be to urban/suburban america: sympathetic characters, genuine dialogue, & lots of sleazy behavior. tho leonard's humor is a bit broader than thompson's. for example, here's a clip from 'swag' where the 2 armed robber protagonists are holding up a grocery store late at night. while stick's in the back with the manager, frank's out front cleaning out the registers, when suddenly, a customer they'd both missed shows up with her groceries. so he decides to just fake it, & get her out of there:

the woman squinted at him. “you’re new.”
“yes, ma’am, new assistant manager.”
“where’s your white coat?”
he was going to say that a jacket and sunglasses was the new thing for assistant managers, you cluck, you dumb, ugly broad, but he played it straight and told her they were getting him a white coat with his name on it. he punched the total and said, “four sixty-eight, please.”
the woman was digging in her purse, looking for something. she took almost a minute to bring out a piece of newspaper, unfold it, and hand it to him.
“coupon for the coffee,” the woman said. “twenty cents off.”
frank took the coupon and looked at it. “okay, the, that’s four forty-eight. no, wait a minute.” he noticed the date on the coupon. “this offer’s expired. it’s not, you know… redeemable, anymore, it’s no good.”
“i couldn’t come in yesterday,” the woman said.”it’s not my fault. i cut the coupon out and there it is.”
“i’m sorry,” frank said. “it says, see? thursday and friday only. big letters.”
“i’ve been coming here fifteen years, using the coupons,” the woman said. “my husband and i. we buy all our groceries, our dog food, everything here. i’m one day late and you’re going to tell me this is no good?”
“i’m sorry. i wish there was something i could do about it.”
"yesterday earl took the car, had timmie with him. all day he’s gone, didn’t even feed timmie the whole while, and i had to sit home alone.”
“all right—“ frank said.
“after all the money this store’s made off us,” the woman said. “i could’ve been going to farmer jack, safeway. no, i come here and then get treated like i’m somebody with food stamps.”
frank was about to give in, but he changed his mind. he looked right at the lady now and said, “i got an idea. why don’t you take the coupon—okay?—and the one-pound can of maxwell house coffee and shove’m up your ass.”…

Ben said...

A born showman. As for Contino, he apparently liked Ellroy's depiction, although going by this interview the character was embellished beyond recognition. Which you'd expect. I mean, not all real life subjects can be Johnny Stompanato.

Dudley Smith is a great heavy, the moreso for being mostly held outside the zone of official punishment or rebuke.I can see why Ellroy would keep coming back to him.

He and Elmore Leonard seem to go hand in hand. One's last name is similar to the other's first name, they both got increased attention at the end of the twentieth century. And both seem to have a way with words. I look forward to giggling when I next see a container of Maxwell House.