Showing posts with label Jonathan Latimer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Jonathan Latimer. Show all posts

Wednesday, 27 November 2019

Bodies from the Library 2, edited by Tony Medawar



The title and contents of this HarperCollins anthology are inspired by the Bodies from the Library conference, which has for the past five summers been held at the British Library and brought together fans of Golden Age detective fiction from all over the world. Tony Medawar, who has been researching the genre for a good thirty years, has conceived the idea of a series of books gathering stories (and radio plays) which he has, in many cases, rescued from obscurity.

Tony is a particular expert on Agatha Christie and the first Bodies book included an excellent rare story by the Queen of Crime. She features again in this book, which I think represents an advance on its predecessor in terms of the overall range and quality of content. There are two particular stand-out contributions, one a long-lost Lord Peter Wimsey story and the other a novella by Edmund Crispin. Rare finds indeed.

The Dorothy L. Sayers story is called, simply and splendidly, "The Locked Room". There is, arguably, a question mark over one aspect of the plot, which may explain why the story (which evidently dates from the late 20s) wasn't included in the Wimsey collections. It's a mystery to me why Crispin's "The Hours of Darkness" disappeared from sight. It's a very pleasing case for Gervase Fen, which is not even mentioned in David Whittle's magisterial biography of Crispin.

The other contributions are a very diverse assortment. So there's a story by S.S. Van Dine,and three others by American authors: Clayton Rawson, Jonathan Latimer (not an author normally associated with the Golden Age, a term which has to be interpreted broadly in the context of this book), and Q. Patrick, whose work in various incarnations I've always enjoyed. The Patrick story is also a novella.

There are several other notable names in the book, such as Margery Allingham and E.C.R. Lorac, but I particularly liked "No Face" by Christianna Brand and the characteristically amusing "Before and After" by Peter Antony. There's even a previously unpublished play by John Rhode, "Sixpennyworth", which Tony speculates may have been written for a local am dram group.

Wednesday, 26 October 2016

The Glass Key - 1942 film review

The Glass Key is a well-regarded film from 1942, based on the novel by Dashiell Hammett, first published in 1931 (it appeared in serial form the previous year). The screenplay was written by Jonathan Latimer, himself a crime novelist of distinction, Latimer's later film scripts included the masterly The Big Clock, based on Kenneth Fearing's equally fine novel, and Night Has a Thousand Eyes, based on a characteristically compelling Cornell Woolrich story.

The central character is Ed Beaumont, played by Alan Ladd. He's the right hand man of Paul Madvig (Brian Donlevy), a rascally political fixer who throws his weight behind the election campaign of Ralph Henry after falling for Henry's daughter (Veronica Lake). She, however, is more interested in Beaumont, who does the decent thing and rebuffs her advances.

When Beaumont finds the body of Henry's son, who has been playing around with Madvig's sister, Madvig is the prime suspect. Madvig has earned the enmity of a local gang boss, who has Beaumont badly beaten up, but although Madvig behaves ungratefully, Beaumont continues to show considerably loyalty. Commendable as this is, I could have done with more insight into the reasons for Beaumont's devotion, given that he's not a closet gay character.

The plot continues to thicken, and the film is watchable from start to finish. Beaumont isn't a private eye, but he plays the detective and solves the mystery to everyone's satisfaction. He even gets the girl. I find it rather sad to reflect that both Ladd and Lake, two charismatic actors, died relatively young. This is a good film which deserves its reputation,,although the book is even better, and so are The Big Clock and, arguably, Night Has a Thousand Eyes. To say nothing of The Maltese Falcon.



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