Every Secret Thing - 2015 film review

Laura Lippman is a crime writer of the highest calibre, and so I watched the recent film version of Every Secret Thing, based on her book of the same name, with great interest. I expected a strong story, and I wasn't disappointed. There aren't many major characters, but a clever storyline springs a series of surprises that help to reveal crucial elements of the protagonists' personalities.

The present day story links in with a crime in the past - the abduction and killing of a baby by two young girls. Those girls, Ronnie and Alice, are convicted, and eventually released, and the focus is on how their past actions continue to affect their lives, and the lives of those around them. There's a similarity here with the concept of Alex Marwood's enjoyable novel Wicked Girls, but the two stories are very different, though equally compelling.

When a young girl goes missing in the neighbourhood where both Ronnie and Alice are based, the police are immediately suspicious. Elizabeth Banks is very good as the cop with a personal stake in the case, while Diane Lane gives a subtle performance as Alice's mother. At first we regard her as loving and kind, but the complexity of her attitudes towards the two girls become increasingly apparent.

As Ronnie and Alice, Dakota Fanning and (especially) Diane Macdonald are very well cast. Ronnie's background is apparently less privileged than Alice's, but in reality, both of them are damaged people. I've seen some fairly negative reviews of this film, but as the truth is gradually revealed, I found myself increasingly impressed. It is a relatively short film, and its psychological intensity makes it, in my opinion, both watchable and thought-provoking.

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..

After I'm Gone by Laura Lippman

Baltimore is the setting for most of the work of Laura Lippman, who  is one of the United States' crime wriiting elite. When Bouchercon was held in Baltimore a few years ago, I spent a hugely enjoyable few days in the city, and managed to avoid the crime that is apparently endemic to some of its districts. It has in one or two respects a resemblance to Liverpool,and that was part of its appeal for me. Lippman's latest, After I'm Gone, published in the UK by Faber, is a very interesting book that fits in well with the posts about the craft about crime writing that I've included here over the past few weeks.

Laura Lippman's confidence and expertise as a writer is demonstrated vividly by the way she tackles two tricky structural challenges. Those challenges arise from the premise of her story. Back in 1976, Felix Brewer, a wealthy villain who was on the point of being sent to prison, vanished mysteriously and has never been seen since. He left behind a wife, Bambi, three daughters, and a mistress, Julie. Julie herself went missing subsequently - but her body was later discovered. Who killed her, and why? Roberto "Sandy" Sanchez, a veteran cop now contracted to work on cold cases, wants to find out.

The story veers around for over 300 pages, with constant shifts of viewpoint and chronology over a span in excess of forty years. Only an experienced and talented writer could manage to tell a story in this way without, at the very least, giving an impression of jerkiness and risking the loss of the reader's attention. But Laura Lippman provides something of a masterclass in story-telling technique. Beginning writers are often told to avoid flashbacks, and there is some sense in that advice, but when done well, they can be effective, and the period details and insights into Jewish family life struck me as convincing. And I'm pleased to say that, though the set-up was nicely constructed, I didn't guess whodunit yet found the explanation satisfying.

There is a very good interview with the author, conducted by Oline H. Cogdill in the latest issue of that excellent magazine Mystery Scene, in which Lippman emphasises her interest in examining women's lives. This she does very well in the book, and I was glad to be reminded of my own trip to Baltimore. But oddly enough, the scenes which I found most gripping were those featuring Sandy's cold case investigation. Not because it was a cold case storyline (though, of course, that was bound to appeal to me, given that cold cases are at the heart of the Lake District Mysteries) but rather because he is such an empathetic character. There's a strong hint near the end of the book that Lippman is setting things up to allow him to return in future, and that's good news, since she clearly enjoys writing about him just as much as she enjoyed writing from the viewpoint of Bambi, her daughters, and her doomed rival.