INSPECT YOUR GADGETS

by John M. Floyd

Here’s a piece of advice we’re often given, as writers: to succeed in fiction, what you write must be different. If you want a readership—or even if you just want to get one story published—you’d better come up with something more than the same-old same-old.

On the other hand, we also hear that there are certain constants, certain time-proven elements that must be present in your fiction or it won’t get past the starting gate. Contradicting information? Not really. There are rules, that’s true (remember the theory that there are only twenty master plots?), but innovation is the key. A logical plot and correct grammar aren’t enough; a story often needs some feature that makes it unique and different, that makes it stand out from the all the rest.

Creative writing

Some call those differences “gimmicks.” Maybe they are. But you should have a few of them in your backpack if you’re trying to climb this mountain, and certainly if you want to make the trip over and over again. Unique slants to your story can range anywhere from vampires to horseracing to Medieval Europe to cats who solve mysteries. (Cats who solve mysteries???) And sometimes they’re actual gadgets, like time machines or shoe phones or microscopic submarines or satellites that trigger earthquakes.

Part of this is terminology. Many folks think of a gimmick as a scam or a dishonest trick of some kind. In this case that’s not true. A gimmick is usually a scheme or a ploy, yes, to help achieve an end, but it doesn’t have to be negative. Inserting a word puzzle on page seven of the newspaper might be a gimmick to sell more copies, but that doesn’t make the puzzle, or its inclusion, a bad thing. Maybe “gimmick” is a poor word choice. In the literary sense, I suppose you could think of it as an unusual or off-beat aspect of the plot or the character(s).

Now pay attention, Double-O-Seven

Anytime this subject comes up I’m reminded of Q Branch, and the crazy gadgets that played such a big part in the Bond movies, especially the later, more foolish ones that bore no resemblance to Fleming’s novels. I loved the zany villains—especially Oddjob and his frisbee top hat—and the farfetched plots too, and gadgets like the Aston Martin ejection seat, but I thought some of Q’s outrageous inventions were not always a good thing. Too many fictional gimmicks of any kind can hurt a story, or a series, more than they help it.

The prose of the pro’s

Here are a few “differences” that have proven successful:

Character quirks/plot devices: Monk’s OCD, MacGyver’s practical knowhow, Lucas Davenport’s wealth, Columbo’s mysteries-in-reverse, John Steed’s hat and umbrella, Ironside’s wheelchair, Josh Randall’s sawed-off rifle, Martin Brody’s fear of the water, Gus McCrae’s playful nature, Jason Bourne’s amnesia.

Unique settings: Stabenow’s Alaska, Hiaasen’s south Florida, Hillerman’s Four Corners, Lansdale’s east Texas, Burroughs’s Africa, DeMille’s Long Island, Clavell’s Far East, Hamilton’s northern Michigan, McCullough’s ancient Rome. (I realize these aren’t really gimmicks, but they’re intriguing and the writers present them in such a way that they help grab and hold the readers’ interest.)

Unusual occupations: Myron Bolitar (sports agent), Anna Pigeon (park ranger), Arkady Renko (Russian policeman), Cliff Janeway (bookstore owner), Sookie Stackhouse (waitress), Sam McCloud (hick-cop-in-the-big-city), Penn Cage (small-town lawyer), Bernie Rhodenbarr (burglar), Stephanie Plum (bungling bounty hunter).

Innovative innovations

As I and my fellow CBers have mentioned many times in these columns, even catchy titles can be a literary sales gimmick—Grafton’s letters, Evanovich’s numbers, Patterson’s nursery rhymes, Grimes’s pub names, Konrath’s cocktails, Ludlum’s three-word titles, and so on. And Arthur Hailey made a career of writing about the inside workings of different industries: automotive, medical, financial, hotels, airlines, newspapers, utilities, etc.

One thing I don’t particularly like is the use of gimmicks in the style of writing: no capitalization, no quotation marks, no paragraph breaks, confusing POVs, everything in italics, everything in dialect, omission of a single letter, and so forth. There are exceptions—I loved Cormac McCarthy’s The Road, and if I remember correctly its dialogue never included quotation marks—but I prefer novels and stories that stick to traditional formatting. To do otherwise suggests an attempt to be different just for the sake of being different, and I’m not sure that adds anything to the story or its enjoyment. But maybe that’s just me.

Lagniappe

A final point. If your character oddity or plot quirk is clever enough and convincing enough, it can do what any literary device should do: make a mediocre story better or an already good story great.

Maybe being a little strange can pay off.

Speaking of strange, here are the first twenty answers to last week’s quiz on movie quotes:

1. Michael, we’re bigger than U.S. Steel.
THE GODFATHER (Lee Strasberg, to Al Pacino)

2. How could a degenerated person like that have reached a position of responsibility in the Army Medical Corps? / He got drafted.
M*A*S*H (Sally Kellerman / fellow officer, referring to Donald Sutherland)

3. What is it? / The stuff that dreams are made of.
THE MALTESE FALCON (Ward Bond / Bogie)

4. My eyes are ceramic. Caught a bazooka round at Little Big Horn. Or was it Okinawa?
HOT SHOTS (Lloyd Bridges)

5. Nine million terrorists in the world and I gotta kill one with feet smaller than my sister.
DIE HARD (Bruce Willis to himself, while trying on the bad guy’s shoes)

6. Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth? / So help me Me.
OH GOD (court officer / George Burns)

7. Where is your commanding officer? / Blowed up, SIR.
STRIPES (Robert J. Wilke / Bill Murray)

8. A lie keeps growing and growing until it’s as clear as the nose on your face.
PINOCCHIO (the Blue Fairy, to Pinocchio)

9. Is that how a warped brain like yours gets its kicks? By planning the death of innocent people? / No, by causing the death of innocent people.
SUPERMAN (Christopher Reeve / Gene Hackman)

10. You talkin’ to me?
TAXI DRIVER (DeNiro, to his reflection in the mirror)

11. All you have to do is hold the chicken, bring me the toast, and charge me for a chicken salad sandwich. / You want me to hold the chicken? / I want you to hold it between your knees.
FIVE EASY PIECES (Jack Nicholson / smartaleck waitress / Nicholson)

12. The horse is too small, the jockey’s too big, the trainer’s too old, and I’m too dumb to know the difference.
SEABISCUIT (Jeff Bridges, to the crowd)

13. I made it, Ma! Top o’ the world!
WHITE HEAT (James Cagney, just before his death)

14. When do we land? / I can’t tell. / You can tell me, I’m a doctor.
AIRPLANE! (Leslie Nielsen / Peter Graves / Nielsen)

15. Step away from your busted-ass vehicle and put your hands on your head.
MEN IN BLACK (Will Smith, to alien)

16. What happened to the old bank? It was beautiful. / People kept robbing it. / Small price to pay for beauty.
BUTCH CASSIDY AND THE SUNDANCE KID (Paul Newman / bank guard / Newman)

17. I do believe Marsellus Wallace, my husband, your boss, told you to take me out and do whatever I wanted. Now I wanna dance. I wanna win. I want that trophy. So dance good.
PULP FICTION (Uma Thurman, to John Travolta)

18. Keaton always said, “I don’t believe in God, but I’m afraid of him.” Well, I believe in God, and the only thing that scares me is Keyser Soze.
THE USUAL SUSPECTS (Kevin Spacey, to Chazz Palminteri)

19. Was that Wilson? / That was him—that was Wilson, all right, and he was fast, fast on the draw.
SHANE (Brandon de Wilde / Alan Ladd)

20. Apollo Creed vs. the Italian Stallion. Sounds like a damn monster movie.
ROCKY (Carl Weathers)

I WRITE LIKE. . .

by Steven Steinbock

A few weeks back – I forget how or where – I learned about a website that incorporates an analytic algorithm to compare a sample of writing to a database of writing styles by famous authors. The website, called I Write Like, was developed by Dmitry Chestnykh, founder of Coding Robots.

Chestnykh would be the first to admit that his algorithm is not rocket science, and amounts to nothing more than comparing word and sentence patterns to those of a large database. But it’s entertaining, and quite possibly insightful.

I plugged a sample of the novel I’m working on into the window provided, and was gratified to learn that I write like Raymond Chandler. I should have stuck with that. I decided, however, to enter my previous week’s blog column into the window, and was dismayed to find that I write like Dan Brown.

I was pleased with some of the other things I found on the I Write Like website. Despite being what in the Geek world is known as a glorified Code Monkey, Dmitry Chestnykh is, in his own way, promoting and fostering good writing through his work. If you sign up for his newsletter, in addition to receiving weekly writing tips, you receive a copy of the eBook, A Practical Treatise on the Art of the Short Story by Charles Raymond Barrett, Ph. B. (What’s a Ph. B, anyone).

Dmitry’s blog contains a lot of clever quotes about the writing life, including pithy bits of wisdom by Mark Twain:

Only one thing is impossible for God: to find any sense in any copyright law on the planet.

and Agatha Christie:

I don’t think necessity is the mother of invention — invention, in my opinion, arises directly from idleness, possibly also from laziness. To save oneself trouble.

There’s a lot of fun stuff here. Nothing that shouldn’t be taken with a small grain of salt, but plenty of grist for the writer’s mill.

By the way, I tried entering the most recent page and a half of my novel, and learned that I write like Stephen King. And when I plugged in today’s blog, I was told I write like Cory Doctorow. I could do a lot worse.

TICK, TICK, TICK

by Deborah Elliott-Upton

¹

Time keeps ticking along whether we have enough of it or not. If I could have one wish, it would probably be for more time. (I know, you thought I would ask for something involving Captain Jack’s portrayer, but I like to shake things up a bit every once in a while.) Actually, I need more time to write, read, and have an article ready for Criminal Brief on Thursdays.

When haven’t we needed more time? Okay, yesterday I didn’t need to spend a minute more at the dentist although he’s an angel who has never once hurt me and lets me leave his office with a prettier and healthier smile. But anytime spent in a doctor’s office is time I’d rather spend doing something else.

I don’t want more time to shop for groceries or to clean out closets or do laundry. Those things seem to swallow time like it was a pie-eating contest and it’s winning a life-or-death situation.

I feel like Burgess Meredith in “The Twilight Zone” episode where all he wanted was quiet and time to read uninterrupted. I want to settle into a comfy spot and read the newest copies of Ellery Queen Mystery Magazine and Alfred Hitchcock in totality without having to put in a bookmark to come back to later.

This extra time is no longer just something I’d like. It has become something I need. A need I am not sure how to accomplish unless I adapt my lifestyle with a few changes.

I could stop cooking meals. Heck, I could quit eating three times a day (okay, so maybe there are a few snack times I could miss, too.)

I could stop wearing jewelry. Picking out what goes with what is time consuming. Especially when I try on different outfits before choosing which to wear.

I could stop saying YES to projects or organizations that others are more capable of running than I am. (Actually, I have pared those down these last two years out of necessity.)

I could stop searching the Internet just for fun, but that’s no fun. I’ll have to think about that one.

I could stop worrying about all those things I can’t control anyway. Okay, that’s what I’ll go with for today. No worries, mate. Just be happy.

Doing just one less thing each day could save a lot of time for more important things. There are so many time suckers in the world vying for our attention. It isn’t easy to say NO. (Just ask Amy Winehouse. She had to say it three times and still she ended up saying YES. But, I guess in this instance YES was the best response. In rehab, would they let me just sleep and catch up on my reading, or would they make me go to all those pesky therapy sessions?)

Time’s ticking and I have a great new issue of mystery short stories to read. The subscriptions arrived just in time.

1. Rita Johnson and Ray Milland in the 1948 film noir classic, The Big Clock

CHAT ROOM

by Rob Lopresti

¹

“Hi, Velma.”

“Well, lookee who’s here. Hello, Bobby.”

“Bobby?”

“Short for Robert. That’s your name, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, but I don’t go by Bobby. I prefer Rob or Robert.”

“What’s wrong with Bobby?”

“Nothing, I suppose. It’s just not—”

“Bobby Sherman did okay. Bobby Goldsboro. Bobbie Gentry.”

“I’m pretty sure she spelled it differently.”

“Whatever. They all made a lot more money than you, Mister Lopresti. What brings you to Criminal Brief Headquarters? Normally we only see you when a check arrives. And that’s been, I don’t know, years?”

“Always a pleasure, Velma. Are any of the gang around?”

“Let me think. Just Leigh, I guess, and he can’t be disturbed. He says he’s working on a very important case.”

“Oh? What kind?”

“Bourbon, I think.”

“Did you just hear a rimshot?”

“Oh, a wiseguy. Why are you looking for one of the mob? Got some time that needs wasting?”

“Actually I wanted to discuss a short story with someone.”

“Well, these letters can wait another hour. Discuss it with me.”

“You?”

“Listen, Bobby. If I wasn’t such a sweet and easy-going woman—”

“Oh, boy.”

“—which I would have to be to put up with this madhouse, I would be insulted. You think because I’m a secretary I can’t discuss lit-ra-choor?”

“It’s not that. It’s—well. I thought you preferred old stories and this is new.”

“I can keep up, sweetie. Is that the masterpiece in your hot little hands?”

“Oh, right. It’s ‘Intent’ by Phil Lovesey, in the July issue of Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine.”

“That’s some cover on EQ. A woman in a sexy slip and a a villain who looks like Vincent Price. I like it. Very hip.”

“Uh, actually, Velma, the cover is a reprint from 1953.”

“You have a point, Bobby?”

“Right. Lovesey’s story, which is terrific by the way, is told entirely in dialog. No narration.”

“And is that the first time it’s been done?”

“No, of course not. In fact, I wrote a story that way. It won a Derringer Award.”

“Congratulations.”

“Well, thanks. I was very pleased—”

“I wasn’t congratulating you for the award. I just thought it was slick how you slipped in the mention of the prize. It looked so natural.”

“Thanks, I guess. I know I have read other all-dialog stories, but none come to mind.”

“Why would anyone bother to write one that way?”

“I can think of a few reasons. Elmore Leonard said the reason his books are popular is he leaves out the parts people don’t read. And of course, everybody reads the dialog, don’t they?”

“So you mean people are interested in overhearing conversations? Readers are nosy.”

“Well, I guess you might put it that way. Also, it makes the stories shorter, more compact.”

“Don’t you get paid by the word, smart guy? So how is fewer words a good thing?”

“Hmm. Good question. I guess the answer is a more compact story is a better story, which is more likely to sell. Another plus for the all-dialog story is that you can hide something in it. Maybe one of the characters is not who the reader thinks he is, or the people are in prison, or something like that.”

“Didn’t you write a story in which some of the characters were figments of the main guy’s imagination?”

“That’s right. But it wasn’t all dialog. I just made sure that the only character whose actions were described was the one who was real. All we knew about the voices in his head was what they said.”

“Ooh! I can think of another advantage. Those stories ought to be easy to make into radio plays.”

“That sounds right. Of course, there isn’t a lot of that going on anymore. The funny thing is that the Midnight Mystery Players adapted two of my stories for radio, but they didn’t pick the all-dialog story.”

“Congratulations! You slipped that in so naturally—”

“Maybe I’ll go look for Leigh.”

“Hey, relax. Have some lunch and tell me why there aren’t more all-dialog stories, if they’re such hot stuff.”

“Are you sure there’s no one else here? Because this buffet seems to have been pretty well picked over.”

“Since none of you jokers seemed to be showing up I told the workmen to help themselves. They’re fixing the sauna.”

“I didn’t know we had a sauna.”

“It’s through that door at the far end of the gym. Not that you ever use the gym. Frankly, it wouldn’t hurt you—”

“One problem with an all-dialog story is it makes it really awkward to describe objects, or actions. Look at what we had to go through up above to tell the reader about the cover of the Ellery Queen.”

“That’s true, and it also means you haven’t had the chance to tell people how great I look in my leopard skin top, poodle skirt, and four inch heels.”

“Congratulations, Velma. The way you slipped that in—”

“Okay, Bobby. What are the other problems with going all-dialog?”

“Readers will get confused unless you can keep the voices very clear. Donald E. Westlake said that in almost every Perry Mason novel there’s a place where Erle Stanley Gardner gets mixed up and confuses Mason’s lines with Paul Drake’s. It can actually be a useful exercise to try writing without narrative and see how distinctive the voices are.”"

“Thank God no one could mistake my snappy repartee with your mumbles.”

“Let’s hope not. How long has this mayo been out of the fridge?”

“You’re a tough guy, aren’t you? Just eat the sandwich.”

“Okay. Thanks for the fascinating discussion, Velma. I’ll be in my office, working on a case.”

“A case of what?”

“Probably indigestion.”

“Sorry, Bobby. No rimshot for you.”

1. cartoon by John Leech, Punch, 1843

The 400 YEAR-OLD SOLUTION

by James Lincoln Warren

My primary computer is temporarily occupied and I can’t use it to access the internet to provide a guest column today. When things return to normal, I will provide the Gentle Reader with new material worth reading. Until then, may I suggest checking out the following Medici mystery.

With gratitude and apologies,
JLW

***

A Venetian Mystery

On the 17 October 1587, the Grand Duke of Tuscany, Francesco I de’Medici, and Bianca Cappello, his former mistress and second wife, died.

Scribbler’s Notebook:
• Both died on the same day!

Wagging tongues claimed Francesco and Bianca conspired to rid themselves of her husband, then poison Frederic’s first wife, 31-year-old Joanna of Austria. This was construed as a Medici pattern presumably followed by his younger brother, Don Pietro in making his wife go away as well as the death of Isabella, their unfaithful sister. We’re talking Medici, remember? Sharp daggers and poison rings?

Another brother, the Cardinal Ferdinando I, awaited in the wings, hot to seize authority. For Francesco and Bianca to die on the same day, that couldn’t be coincidence, could it?

This mystery appears to have been solved. Read the dénouement.

I live in Los Angeles, but my father lives in San Antonio. The other day, I got a phone call from him—he’d been cleaning out a closet in his home and come across a box full of comic books. I had bought them back in the 1970s, and he wanted to know if I wanted him to send them to me. “Sure,” I said. “Who knows? Maybe I can sell some of them.”

The box arrived a few days ago. Some of the comics may have some slight interest for collectors, but the real treasure was several papers I had written while in college. I reproduce one of them here, written for a course I took in 1978 called “The Philosophy of Art”, which was taught by Prof. Nikil Bhattacharya, Ph.D., who apparently is still on the faculty at the University of Texas San Antonio. He is one of the two or three most intelligent men I ever met.

I wrote the paper in the form of a conversation between three real people. Frances Keene was in charge of the humanities program at the Mannes College of Music in New York when I was a student there between 1974 and 1976. Joseph DeClementi was a friend of mine from Staten Island, not a musician, but he was a profound aesthete and a deep intellectual and had a rapier wit. I chose the format as a joke, since Plato’s works are all presented as dialogues, and I knew that Prof. B. would enjoy the gag. He gave me an A-/B+ for the paper.

Thirty plus years later, I’m surprised that the essay-in-the-form-of-a-short-story stands up as well as it does, but I am reminded of what an insufferable snot I could be in college. All right, I know what you’re thinking: What do you mean, in college?

Well, here it is, one of the works of my callow youth. But it wasn’t the pick of the litter.

One of the college manuscripts was an actual short story. I’ll fill you in about that later.

INTERMISSION
a semi-serious consideration
of some insoluble problems, or;
Perhaps if I Painted the Piano . . .

by James Lincoln Warren

     Christian charity has its demands; suffice to say the performance was less than adequate. Joe DeClementi, who represented the visual arts in the immediate circle of my friends, blissfully drew Artistic Shapes on the back of his program, ostensibly insensitive to the Pinocchio at the piano. My attention shifted from him to the ingenue at the keyboard (briefly introducing images of French diction lessons, primitive attempts at graceful ballet, etc.) and back to the audience.
      Frances Keene, the matriarch of the humanities at the Mannes College, either sat transfixed or asleep. I looked briefly at my watch. Diplomacy requred me to stay at least until the intermission, but a fictive appointnent would save me from the agony of hearing the poor girl struggle with the Schubert B-flat posthumous. The last couple of notes gave a sense of finality to an otherwise incoherent rendition of the Schoenberg Op. 28.
     I briefly tapped the tips of my fingers together in polite if cynical applause, and gratefully wandered into the foyer. Joe stifled a yawn and followed.
     “Well, Warren,” Ms. Keene greeted me with her approach, “what do you think?’
     “Hardly inspiring.”
     “There’s no life to the performance.” Joe offered. “I don’t think she understands the composers, if indeed she understands the piano.”
     “Poor thing,” Ms. Keene said. “She’s really not very good, although she has a facile technique.”
     “She’s simply not involved in the music,” I said. “She’s so literal minded that she’s playing nothing but notes. I sense a lack of understanding in her with regard to the score.”
     “With regard to the score or with regard to the music?” Ms. Keene questioned.
     “The music, I guess,” I replied. “She can certainly read music. In fact she’s an excellent sight-reader. It’s just that her performance is very shallow.”
     “That suggests that the music is not the score,” Joe said. “What is the score, then? A medium for the music, a notation for the performance?”
     “Or is the performance a medium for the score ?” Ms. Keene asked. “I can’t help but think that the score is inherently superior to her performance of it.”
     I laughed. I’m usually not very eager to leap into a discussion that I know will expose my intellectual shortcomings, but Joe and Frances Keene are good company, so I lowered my defenses and leapt into the fray.
     “Let’s try this: the score is a representation of composer’s intention, a symbology developed for the notation of a musical piece that initially exists as the composer’s conceptualization of sound. A performance is an attempt to convert the representation, or score, into a presentation of the composer’s conceptualization.”
     “And a performance’s success is limited by the shortcomings of musical notation and the recreative abilities of the performer. Different musical personalities have different understandings: two actors read the same line completely differently, but the inherent meaning of the words is constant.” As Joe finished speaking, he drew on his cigarette and graced us with one of his secretive, enigmatic smiles.
     “DeClementi, you’re a painter,” said Ms. Keene. “What do you think the artistic status of a photograph of a painting is? Take, for example, the Goyas at the Metropolitan Museum currently on loan from the Prado? I’m sure you’ve bought the catalogue.’
     Joe’s smile widened. “A representation of a representation? I see what you’re driving at. of course, seeing a photo of a painting is not seeing the painting. But if it’s a good photograph, you may have a good photograph. Surely photography is an art in its own right.”
     “That begs the question,” I said, happy to be on the offensive for a change. “Is the photograph a valid piece of art because of the painting’? I’d rather have a mediocre shot of a da Vinci than a perfect one of a Warhol.”
     “Would you rather have a mediocre performance of a Beethoven symphony or a polished performance of a Liszt tone-poem?”
     “That’s not a fair analogy—”
     “Is there such a thing as a proper analogy between forms of art?” Ms. Keene asked. “Oh, I know the common ones: Beethoven as Michelangelo, Varèse as Calder, Debussy as Mallarmé. But each of the arts has conventions that make it independent. Is it possible to speak of ‘performing’ a work of visual art? I’m speaking of painting and sculpture, and the like.”
     “To leave dance in the air,” I mumbled, over pleased at my own cleverness.
     “When an artist looks at a painting, he’s intensely aware of each brushstroke,” said Joe. “In that sense, he ‘performs’ the creation of the painting in his mind. But he doesn’t actually perform it.”
     “But if you’re not a painter?” I asked. “I received my one and only painting lesson last summer. When I look at a van Eyck, my response is: how did he do that? Is my appreciation of van Eyck lessened because I don’t understand his technique?”
     “You’ve always maintained Bach couldn’t be appreciated completely without the study of seventeenth century counterpoint. I would say, yes, you are incapable of appreciating van Eyck as much as I do.”
     “Joe, before now you’ve always said that you could appreciate Bach better than many musicians (and I may site tonight’s performer as an example). Perhaps the same is true of my appreciating van Eyck as much as I do.”
     By this time the lights had flashed twice. Ms. Keene was frankly amused, but obviously pleased that we had taken it upon ourselves to consider these questions. She squeezed my arm and said, “Well, Warren, I hope you and DeClementi reach a consensus. Duty calls and I must back to the hall.”
     She took her leave. I looked across at Joe.
     “So now what? Do we continue?”
     He crushed the life out of his cigarette. “We’re operating under a fixed system of assumptions about the nature and dynamics of art. Representation, presentation, performance . . . we throw these words around without being confident as to what exactly they mean or how they work. I think I’d better think about it.”
     “Is there nothing to be done ?” I asked.
     “Let’s get the train down to Bleecker Street and get drunk.”
     “Ah! How Bohemian . . . how . . . artistic!”
     “Shut up,” he said, “or you’re buying.”
     We left.

EROTIC MYSTERY THRILLERS

by Leigh Lundin

I found myself in a conversation with friends about erotic mystery thrillers. As we chatted, I realized we had the makings for another John Floyd Movie List™, including several nominated for Edgar Allan Poe awards, the Edgar.

Not a lot of introduction is necessary. Perhaps because of our American penchant to mentally package together sex-n-violence, virtually all of these fall into the noir genre involving dark motives and lots of betrayal. Nobody seems to make a cops ‘n’ robbers show where our hero simply has a bangin’ good home life.

Inclusion in my list requires (a) the mystery be good and (b) sex be non-gratuitous. It seems to me this subgenre can be divided into a couple of different categories– those that take place in New Orleans, and those that don’t, or those with John Goodman and Ellen Barkin and those without. My list, in release order includes:

1981		Body Heat
directors		Lawrence Kasdan
producers		Fred Gallo, Robert Grand, George Lucas (uncredited)
writers		Lawrence Kasdan
starring		William Hurt, Kathleen Turner
music		John Barry
awards		nominated: Edgar Allan Poe Award
		New York Times: Tuner in her ""jaw-dropping movie debut … built a career on adventurousness and frank sexuality born of robust physicality." That’s the plot. Sex. Somebody gets killed. Sex. Somebody gets blamed. Sex. Watch the ending carefully.
1984		Tightrope
directors		Richard Tuggle
producers		Clint Eastwood, Fritz Manes
writers		Richard Tuggle
starring		Clint Eastwood, Geneviève Bujold
music		Lennie Niehaus
		A sexual killer threatens the daughters and girlfriend of a flawed detective. Despite positive reviews, audiences hated seeing Eastwood portraying a vulnerable, imperfect man in this dark but satisfying noir thriller.
1986		The Big Easy
director		Jim McBride
producers		Mort Engelberg, Stephen J. Friedman
writers		Daniel Petrie Jr.
starring		Dennis Quaid, Ellen Barkin
music		Brad Fiedel
awards		nominated: Edgar Allan Poe Award
		Straight-laced DA and tainted cop combine forces to solve a mobster’s murder while steaming up the screen. Good story and satisfying, even romantic ending.
1987		Angel Heart
directors		Alan Parker
producers		Elliott Kastner, Alan Marshall
writers		William Hjortsberg, Alan Parker
starring		Mickey Rourke, Lisa Bonet
music		Trevor Jones
		A mysterious client hires a seedy private eye to determine what happened to a crooner badly injured during World War II. This disturbing noir film has voodoo, sex, violence, and a devilishly tricky plot.
1987		Black Widow
directors		Bob Rafelson
producers		Laurence Mark, Harold Schneider
writers		Ronald Bass
starring		Debra Winger, Theresa Russell
music		Michael Small
		Two smart women– one good, one evil (a serial husband killer)– battle wits. Less sex, more brains.
1989		Sea of Love
directors		Harold Becker
producers		Martin Bregman
writers		Richard Price
starring		Al Pacino, Ellen Barkin
music		Trevor Jones
awards		nominated: Edgar Allan Poe Award
		NYC detectives investigate the deaths of three guys who placed ads in a singles column by placing their own ad. Great premise and one of them gets the man… and the girl.
1990		Presumed Innocent
directors		Alan J. Pakula
producers		Sydney Pollack, Mark Rosenberg
writers		Scott Turow, Frank Pierson, Alan Pakula
starring		Harrison Ford, Greta Scacchi
music		John Williams
awards		nominated: Edgar Allan Poe Award
		As a prosecutor investigates the murder of a colleague he had an affair with, the net closes around him. One of the best mysteries ever written, it’s a great novel and film (with a sequel, Innocent).
1992		Final Analysis
directors		Phil Joanou
producers		R. Gere, M. Wilde, PJ Witt, C. Roven, T. Thomas
writers		Wesley Strick, Robert H. Berger, Wesley Strick
starring		Richard Gere, Kim Basinger
music		George Fenton
		Femme fatale kills husband and seduces shrink to get her off. In a period of several similar movies, this one stands out for its smart plot, although the story arc peaks much too soon.
1994		The Last Seduction
directors		John Dahl
producers		Jonathan Shestack
writers		Steve Barancik
starring		Linda Fiorentino, Bill Pullman
music		Joseph Vitarelli
awards		nominated: Edgar Allan Poe Award
		Sociopathic femme fatale black widow manipulates naive boyfriend to kill her husband. This isn’t top of my list and nightmares will probably ruin this as a date movie.
1994		Disclosure
directors		Barry Levinson
producers		Michael Crichton, Barry Levinson
writers		Michael Crichton, Paul Attanasio
starring		Michael Douglas, Demi Moore
music		Ennio Morricone
		This mystery and thriller without a murder (although you’ll probably want to kill a participant) features several smart women and one smart but clueless guy.
1995		Devil in a Blue Dress
directors		Carl Franklin
producers		J. Demme, Ed Saxon, J. Beaton, G. Goetzman
writers		Walter Mosley, Carl Franklin
starring		Denzel Washington, Jennifer Beals
music		Elmer Bernstein
awards		nominated: Edgar Allan Poe Award
		Set against a post-WW-II political backdrop, a black man is hired to find a white woman. What could go wrong? Good characterization and atmosphere, which reminded me for some reason of Cannery Row.
1999		Eyes Wide Shut
directors		Stanley Kubrick
producers		Stanley Kubrick
writers		Arthur Schnitzler, Stanley Kubrick, Frederic Raphael
starring		Tom Cruise, Nicole Kidman
music		Jocelyn Pook
		Man investigates secret cult, provokes murders, barely survives. Almost everyone can find something here to dislike. A painful marriage and a dark theme against a Christmas background disturbed me, and the costume shop scene failed to move the story forward. But, the oblique, well-told plot rewards an attentive viewer.

No Basic Instinct?

Readers may ask why I didn’t round out the list with Basic Instinct (1992). Writer A.C. Law cast it as number one in his Arts & Entertainment list of top erotic thrillers and it certainly caused a lot of box office chatter, but not all of us were fans. This Sharon Stone movie grabbed considerable attention but snatched no major awards, save for music.

Sometimes studios manage to hype a film to a kind of audience hysteria. A matter of opinion, of course, but the movie and characters seemed dull to me. Even A.C. Law commented the movie was "no stunning feat of cinema and it’s got some questionable plot twists that make it seem implausible." To me, a movie plot with gaping holes isn’t a mystery and not even a good movie. It had sex but no soul.

Foreign Entries

Blockbuster provides their own erotic thriller list, although their definition is broad, delving into science fiction and other genres.

I hadn’t intended to focus solely on Hollywood. Upon prompting (see comments below), I’ve added a list of foreign erotic mystery/thrillers compiled by Chris Pence, a Break Studios contributor for MadeMan, the on-line magazine. His list has become my new to-see list.

More Information

Premier’s Glenn Kenny compiled a list of twenty steamiest movies, not necessarily mystery thrillers. His list includes some of ours and did not include Basic Instinct, but his has a couple of surprises, such as Blowup (1966) and Walkabout (1971). I would have thought Walkabout too subtle and Blowup the opposite, but that’s the point…

The beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

What’s on your list?