This section of the site features original and previously published
articles by George Pelecanos.
Fall Picks 2004
Books
Middlesex, by Jeffrey Eugenides
Like many readers, I resisted picking this up because of the element that seemed to dominate every review, implying that this was primarily a story about a hermaphrodite. Brother, was I wrong. Middlesex, a work of art that is more than worthy of its Pulitzer Prize, wins my personal award for novel of the year. Sure, this involves the history of a Greek family stretched out over nearly a century, so naturally I would be interested. But Eugenides makes the story so involving, so universal, that you don't have to be a Greek to appreciate it. In the end, Middlesex is more a novel about America (that is to say, it is about all of us) than one specific culture or sexual subgroup. Give the author respect for ambition and the realization of his vision.
The Fortress of Solitude, by Jonathan Lethem
A sprawling, moving novel about friendship, race, community, music, comic books, family, superheroes, and the 70s, with some plot turns that could only have come from the hyper-imaginative mind of this prodigiously talented author. Lethem is a singular voice in American fiction.
All Quiet on the Western Front, by Erich Maria Remarque; With the Old Breed, E.B. Sledge
Remarque's World War I book, told from the perspective of a German soldier, has been called the greatest war novel of all time. Sledge's diary-like account of a World War II Marine infantryman in the Pacific was dubbed "one of the finest memoirs to emerge from any war." No arguments from me. I read these books for different reasons, and came away both horrified and inspired. From E.B. Sledge's account: "None of us would ever be the same after what we had endured. To some degree that is true, of course, of all human experience. But something in me died at Peleliu. Perhaps it was a childish innocence that accepted as faith the claim that man is basically good. Possibly I lost faith that politicians in high places who do not have to endure war's savagery will ever stop blundering and sending others to endure it." To that I say, Amen.
DVDs
In a Lonely Place, Directed by Nicholas Ray
"I was born when she kissed me/I died when she left me/I lived a few weeks when she loved me." These lines (later memorialized for rock fans by the Smithereens) sum up the theme of this 1950 Columbia drama, which has gradually earned a reputation as one of director Nicholas Ray's finest films and a classic of film noir. It is that rare example of artists coming together, in a quiet way, to produce a studio picture that exceeds its ambition. In a Lonely Place depicts the rise and fall of a relationship between troubled, violent-prone Hollywood screenwriter Dix Steele (Humphrey Bogart) and aspiring actress Laurel Gray (Gloria Graham). The title describes the emotional state of the protagonists, but also, as it has been noted elsewhere, the peculiar emotional "place" in which an artist, especially a writer, lives. Steele comes under suspicion for the murder of a hat-check girl who had visited his apartment on the night of her death, but he is temporarily exonerated when neighbor Gray gives him an alibi. So begins their relationship, an intense love affair that can only end one way. Bogart, whose company produced the film, allows himself to be photographed in a manner that makes him appear nearly ugly, his skin stretched tight, his gestures strained, his posture stooped. Even his smile is just a dark variation on a grimace. Graham, one of the most sexually supercharged actresses of any era, plays a woman in love as if in a dream state. Her eyes are drunk with it as she kisses Bogart. The black and white cinematography by Burnett Guffey, both on mid-century Los Angeles locations and in the sound-stage of the apartment courtyard (built to replicate Ray's first residence in LA), is evocative and framed architecturally to cage the characters who are trapped by their own psychosis. The screenplay by Andrew Solt, based on a novel by Dorothy B. Hughes, is intelligent and acidic, dead-on skewering the film business at the time. The score and main theme, by George Antheil, is haunting. This film has stuck with me since I first viewed it twenty years ago. I saw it again last night and it is exactly as powerful as I remembered it to be. See it with someone you love.
Lawman, directed by Michael Winner
A recent critical reappraisal of Michael Winner sent me back to search out a key Winner film I missed. Best known for the Charles Bronson vigilante fantasy, Death Wish, Winner also directed the Bronson vehicles The Machinist, The Stone Killer, and Chato's Land, all of which I had seen in theaters and drive-ins back in the 70s, all of which left me with emotions ranging from barely-satisfied-on-the-action level to completely unimpressed. Also, there was his laughable horror picture, The Sentinel, and his disastrous, sacrilegious take on Chandler's The Big Sleep, which Winner inexplicably set and shot in England. But I was willing to give his 1971 film, Lawman, a chance, because of its growing rep, and yeah, because it's a western. The plot, involving a U.S. Marshall versus a cattle baron and his men (and a town filled with people unwilling to help him), could not be more standard. But it's the Gerald Wilson script, which subverts our bedrock beliefs in good and evil, which elevates the material. The ending in particular is both unexpected and anarchic, given the genre expectations. And film freaks should take note of this cast: Burt Lancaster, Robert Ryan, Lee J. Cobb, Sheree North, Robert Duval, Joseph Wiseman, Richard Jordan, Albert Salmi, J.D. Cannon, Ralph Waite, John Beck, and many others. What, then could be wrong with it? Strong cast and writing aside, I still don't like the direction. Winner inappropriately uses hand held, zooms, reverse zooms and lens flares when the material demands a less gimmicky, steadier hand. His framing is sloppy. And the location work is ugly when the landscape, as in all the best westerns from John Ford to Anthony Mann to Peter Fonda, should add to the richness of the film. So don't expect a Wild Bunch or even a Duck, You Sucker. But this is worth a look.
Music
Slippage, by Slobberbone
Readers of my annual music feature on this website will find that I plan to take two records from Slobberbone out on tour while promoting my next novel, Drama City. This 2002 release pulls back on the country instrumentation of the earlier records in favor of a more punkish, rock sound, produced by Don Smith. Tracks like "Springfield, IL.," and "Write Me Off," are fast and spirited, but past the thrash are the record's gems: a cover of the Bee Gees' "To Love Somebody" and the Brent Best originals "Sister Beams," "Find the Out," "Down Town Again," "Live On In The Dark," and "Back." Best does the cigarettes-and- Jack vocals and plays guitar alongside Jess Barr, while Tony Harper pounds the skins with a Buddy Miles-like ferocity. Another phenomenal record from this Texas quintet. 
