Saturday, March 07, 2026

A Hammett-Seasoned Assembly

(Above) R-Evolution, American artist Marco Cochrane’s 47-foot-tall, steel rod-and-mesh sculpture of a nude woman, rises from Embarcadero Plaza on the San Francisco waterfront. It has stood there in front of the Ferry Building since April 2025.


Time was when I visited San Francisco regularly—maybe once a year, or at least once every couple of years. However, before last week, a full decade and a half had elapsed since my previous call on Northern California’s most colorful and captivating metropolis; the last time was back in 2010, when Bouchercon took over the Hyatt Regency hotel on the Embarcadero, directly across from the historic Ferry Building. During the interim, I’d seen stories about how that City by the Bay had fallen into social and financial decline. Elon Musk, the South Africa-born right-winger who founded Tesla and destroyed Twitter (today’s X)—and who is a product of Silicon Valley, the high-tech hub located just to the south—had portrayed San Francisco as “a crime-ridden wasteland where homeless drug addicts freely roam.”

So I was fully prepared to see this place I have loved for so long reduced to a shadow of its erstwhile glory. Yet that isn’t what I found. In fact, central San Francisco looked pretty much like every other big city I’ve traveled to since the COVID-19 pandemic. There were scattered empty storefronts along Market Street, and one of my all-time favorite breakfast venues—Dottie’s True Blue Café, formerly on Jones Street but moved since my last drop-by to a larger, Sixth Street location—had shut its doors. Yes, there were some unhoused residents on sidewalks, benefiting from this burg’s moderate climate and extensive public services, but no more than I see nowadays in Seattle or Portland ... and none of them were shooting up in the gutters. San Francisco struck me as a locale that’s weathered bad economic times and is on its way to finding its footing again.

It certainly did a superb job of hosting the 2026 Left Coast Crime convention, which was held last week (Thursday, February 26, to Sunday, March 1) in the same Hyatt Regency I’d frequented 15 years ago.

Not surprisingly, given that (1) we were in Dashiell Hammett country and (2) this year brought an end to copyright restrictions on the author’s detective-fiction masterpiece, The Maltese Falcon, there was considerable attention paid to that 1930 novel. Falcon statuettes were presented to all four of LCC 2026’s guests of honor. One of the gathering’s Thursday panel discussions found Bay Area author Mark Coggins and Randal S. Brandt—who writes The Rap Sheet’s “Book Into Film” column and curates the California Detective Fiction Collection at the University of California, Berkeley’s Bancroft Library—examining the book’s still-enduring impact on crime fiction. And that same night, Coggins and Brandt appeared together at a downtown used bookshop to chat with other mystery enthusiasts about Poltroon Press’ recent re-release of The Maltese Falcon, to which both contributed.

One of this convention’s first panel exchanges was “Let’s Talk About the Black Bird,” which addressed Dashiell Hammett’s best-known novel, The Maltese Falcon. Participating were—left to right—authors Elizabeth Crowens (Bye Bye Blackbird), Domenic Stansberry (the North Beach mysteries, The Lizard), and Kelli Stanley (the Miranda Corbie series, The Reckoning), as well as librarian Randal Brandt, who moderated the colloquy. Not shown, but also part of the group, was Mark Coggins. He took this shot and e-mailed it to me with a note that joked, “Looks like someone photobombed them.”

Hours after that panel presentation concluded, Brandt and Coggins (shown above on the left and right, respectively) joined San Francisco author and philanthropist Robert Mailer Anderson (center) at Kayo Books, a treasury of used works on Post Street downtown, to celebrate Hammett’s considerable influence on todays detective fiction. Afterward, Anderson—who rents the pocket-edition apartment at 891 Post where Hammett lived from 1927 to 1929 and penned his first three novels—escorted a few members of the audience on a brief tour of those rehabbed digs.

Yes, that’s me, Jeff Pierce, seated in the very apartment (#401) where ex-Pinkerton operative Hammett crafted his earliest novels and many of his short stories. Neither the wooden desk nor the typewriter are original fixtures, but they certainly add to the cribs Jazz Age ambiance. (Photograph by Mark Coggins)


In a memorable treat for yours truly, immediately prior to the Kayo Books event, Coggins and I accompanied local novelist Robert Mailer Anderson (Boonville) to the fourth-floor apartment Hammett once rented at 891 Post Street, one block east of the bookshop. It was there, in the late 1920s, that Red Harvest, The Dain Curse, and The Maltese Falcon were all batted out noisily on a typewriter, the author likely working longer into the night than his neighbors would have preferred. For many years, architect and Hammett fan Bill Arney lived in those 275-square-foot lodgings, but after his passing in 2021, Anderson took over the rent. He has since restored the apartment to how it might have looked during Hammett’s time. Anderson is also working on a project that will bring modern authors into the place and film them reading excerpts from Hammett’s prose.

For a guy like me, who discovered Dashiell Hammett, Sam Spade, and the Continental Op during college, and who’s been re-reading their adventures ever since, this opportunity to stand where their fictional lives began was nothing short of electrifying.

Those four days in mostly sunny San Francisco were a whirlwind of activities, from genre panel discussions and serendipitous encounters in hallways with friends to the discovery of new attractions the city has to offer. A few of my other favorite experiences:

My daily morning walks around downtown, during which I not only got exercise and fresh air, but made a point of reaching buildings and monuments familiar to me from my years of writing about SF history.

Sitting down with local author Kelli Stanley and talking about her efforts to relocate from the United States to Europe; her latest novel, The Reckoning; and how she couldn’t relax at LCC because she needed to get home and finish her sequel to that book by its deadline.

Chatting up the friendly doorkeepers at the Hyatt Regency and finally questioning them about where to find the best Mexican food in the Mission District. This provoked much debate and research, until they finally directed me to Gallardos at 3248 18th Street (corner of 18th and Shotwell). I took the BART train down to the 16th and Mission station, then walked south on Mission and left on 18th for three more blocks. My being the only white guy in the restaurant suggested authenticity, as did the fact that credit cards weren’t accepted—Gallardos is cash-only. And the food? Well, I ordered the Guadalajara Dinner, a combination plate featuring an enchilada, a chili relleno, and a taco. With a side of house-made tortillas! It was savory and filling, and more than I could eat, but I had no refrigerator in my hotel room to hold the leftovers. I’ll definitely go back there the next time I’m in the Bay Area.

Finding myself at the hotel bar next to Chicago’s Lori Rader-Day, an hour before Saturday night’s Lefty Awards banquet was to commence. I first met Lori during an airport shuttle ride into Raleigh, North Carolina, for Bouchercon 2015—back when she was just starting her career composing fiction. Since then, she’s produced six more novels, among them this year’s Wreck Your Heart, and survived breast cancer. I have done … well, nothing even remotely so courageous or dramatic. But it was good to catch up for a spell over gin-and-tonics.

And then after the banquet and prize dispersals, joining Los Angeles author Gary Phillips at that same bar. He told me about the delights of rearing his late daughter’s young child, and briefed me on his soon-forthcoming novel, The Haul, which recounts the story of a professional thief coming out of retirement to engineer “a multi-million-dollar raid of a tech billionaire’s secret bunker.” Gary and Lori are such kind and generous people; I’m sorry I live so far from them.

When Sunday rolled around, I was not close to being ready for departure. I mused on how wonderful it might be to spend another week roaming San Francisco, just photographing sidewalk scenes and the elegant decorations of old buildings. I hadn’t had a chance during my stay to wander out to spacious Golden Gate Park. Or to hop a Powell-Hyde Cable Car to The Buena Vista café, which is credited with introducing Irish coffees to the United States in 1952. Nor had I stopped at John’s Grill on Ellis Street, where Spade ordered “chops, baked potatoes, [and] sliced tomatoes” in The Maltese Falcon.

But I had to be back home the next day, so couldn’t stay. Next time, I told myself. And next time would be sooner than 15 years off!

Thursday’s “Thoughts on Podcasting” session was moderated by Jaime Parker Stickle (far left), author of the Corey in Los Angeles series and host of The Girl with the Same Name. Tackling the topic with her were Sabrina Thatcher (Slaying the Craft: Inside the Mind of a Thriller Writer), Jim Fusilli (Writers at Work), Mike Adamick (Crime Adjacent), and Dan White (OutWithDan).

“The Liars Panel” on Friday was one of this convention’s more unusual offerings, but its title says it all. Five writers told stories of their encounters with famous people, and the audience was charged with identifying which were factual and which were fabricated. Shown from left to right: Lee Matthew Goldberg (The Great Gimmelmans), Holly West (The Money Block), the legendary Sara Paretsky (creator of the V.I. Warshawski series), Lori Rader-Day (this panel’s moderator), and Lina Chern (Tricks of Fortune).

Guest of Honor Gary Phillips was interviewed onstage Friday afternoon by fellow fictionist Christa Faust (The Get Off). During their engaging 45-minute exchange, Phillips was asked which of all his books he would like to have outlast him. His answer: Violent Spring, his 1994 debut novel (featuring private eye Ivan Monk), and his 1999 standalone, The Jook.

Finally, Lori Rader-Day’s selfie showing the two of us enjoying chilled libations in the Hyatt Regency’s lobby bar.

Sometimes Only a Wrap-up Will Do

Three recent news items that might have passed through your radar unnoticed, as they almost passed through ours:

• The Glencairn Glass Crime Short Story Competition is now open for submissions. “The official glass for Scotch whisky, Glencairn is once again raising a toast to crime fiction with the return of its popular annual competition, in partnership with the Bloody Scotland International Crime Writing Festival,” explains Crime Fiction Lover. “Experienced and novice writers from around the world are invited to submit an original crime story of under 2,000 words. You don’t have to be Scottish to enter, but your protagonist must be a Scot.” Entries are to be accepted through March 31. “The overall winner will receive £1,000, publication of their story on the Bloody Scotland website, and the chance of a guest appearance at the Bloody Scotland Festival in September 2026. The runner-up will win £500, with both winning stories also published on the Glencairn Glass website.”

• Lee Child, Jane Harper, Peter James, and Lucy Foley, are among the authors announced as headliners for this year’s Capital Crime festival, set to take place in London from June 18 to 20.

• And Season 15 of the Robert Thorogood-created series Death in Paradise is scheduled to debut in the States on BritBox come March 24. (It has already been airing in Great Britain.) There will be eight new episodes. Mystery Fanfare has a trailer here.

Thursday, March 05, 2026

Revue of Reviewers: 3-5-26

Critiquing some of the most interesting recent crime, mystery, and thriller releases. Click on the individual covers to read more.



















Tuesday, March 03, 2026

Speak to Me

Just last evening, the Audio Publishers Association revealed the recipients of this year’s Audie Awards, recognizing quality in audiobooks and spoken-word entertainments. There were 27 winners, but two are likely of greatest interest to Rap Sheet followers.

Mystery: Gone Before Goodbye, by Reese Witherspoon and Harlan Coben; narrated by Reese Witherspoon, Chris Pine, Kiff VandenHeuvel, Suehyla El-Attar Young, Peter Ganim, Saskia Maarleveld, and James Fouhey (Hachette Audio)

Also nominated: Gray Dawn, by Walter Mosley, narrated by Michael Boatman and Walter Mosley (Hachette Audio); The Queens of Crime, by Marie Benedict, narrated by Bessie Carter (Macmillan Audio); Secret Sister, by Sarah A. Denzil, narrated by Jessica Gunning, Sacha Dhawan, Joanne Froggatt, Nathaniel Curtis, and Hopi Grace (Audible Originals); and Vera Wong's Guide to Snooping (on a Dead Man), by Jesse Q. Sutanto, narrated by Eunice Wong (Penguin Ranndom House Audio)

Thriller/Suspense: Don't Let Him In, by Lisa Jewell; narrated by Richard Armitage, Joanne Froggatt, Tamaryn Payne, Gemma Whelan, Louise Brealey, and Patience Tomlinson (Simon & Schuster Audio)

Also nominated: Beautiful Ugly, by Alice Feeney, narrated by Richard Armitage and Tuppence Middleton (Macmillan Audio); Everyone Is Lying to You, by Jo Piazza, narrated by Rachel F. Hirsch, Sarah Reny, Vas Eli, and Saskia Maarleveld (Penguin Random House Audio); Havoc, by Christopher Bollen, narrated by Maggi-Meg Reed (HarperAudio); and To Die For, by David Baldacci, narrated by Zach Villa, Mela Lee, Cassandra Morris, Rena Marie Villano, Christine Lakin, Will Collyer, Kiff Vandenheuvel, and Erin Bennett (Hachette Audio)

Sunday, March 01, 2026

Only Winners Left

I just returned home from San Francisco and the 2026 Left Coast Crime convention. I’ll have more to say about that event soon, but for now, let me just post the winners of this year’s Lefty Awards.

Lefty for Best Humorous Mystery Novel:
Scot’s Eggs, by Catriona McPherson (Severn House)

Also nominated: Solid Gold Murder, by Ellen Byron (Kensington); Star-Crossed Egg Tarts, by Jennifer J. Chow (St. Martin’s Paperbacks); Bye Bye Blackbird, by Elizabeth Crowens (Level Best); and All’s Faire in Love and Murder, by Cindy Sample (Cindy Sample)

Bill Gottfried Memorial Lefty for Best Historical Mystery Novel:
The Case of the Missing Maid, by Rob Osler (Kensington)

Also nominated: Huguette, by Cara Black (Soho Crime); The Girl in the Green Dress, by Mariah Fredericks (Minotaur); A Daughter’s Guide to Mothers and Murder, by Dianne Freeman (Kensington); City Lights, by Claire M. Johnson (Level Best); and Knave of Diamonds, by
Laurie R. King (Bantam)

Lefty for Best Debut Mystery Novel:
Whiskey Business, by Adrian Andover (Chestnut Avenue Press)

Also nominated: We Don’t Talk About Carol, by Kristen L. Berry (Bantam); Mask of the Deer Woman, by Laurie L. Dove (Berkley); The Retirement Plan, by Sue Hincenbergs (Morrow); Best Offer Wins, by Marisa Kashino (Celadon); and Mortal Zin, by Diane Schaffer
(Sibylline Press)

Lefty for Best Mystery Novel (not in other categories):
River of Lies, by James L’Etoile (Oceanview)

Also nominated: Crooks, by Lou Berney (Morrow); Throwing Shadows, by Claire Booth (Severn House); Edge, by Tracy Clark (Thomas & Mercer); Waters of Destruction, by Leslie Karst (Severn House); and The Library Game, by Gigi Pandian (Minotaur)

These results were announced last night, Saturday, February 28, during a banquet at the Hyatt Regency-Embarcadero.

Friday, February 20, 2026

Book Into Film: “High Sierra”

(Editor’s note: This is the third installment in a series comparing noteworthy crime, mystery, and thriller novels against their Hollywood feature adaptations—for better or worse.)

By Randal S. Brandt

Book: High Sierra, by W.R. Burnett, 1940
Movie: High Sierra—John Huston, W.R. Burnett (screenplay),
Raoul Walsh (director), 1941
Movie: Colorado Territory—John Twist, Edmund H. North (screenplay), Raoul Walsh (director), 1949



“I’ve been trying to crash out ever since I can remember.”
—Marie Garson (
High Sierra)
“This time, Wes, we can really bust out.”
—Colorado Carson (
Colorado Territory)

William Riley “W.R.” Burnett had an incredible track record of getting his books adapted for the silver screen. His first novel, Little Caesar (1929), was an overnight success and led to a wildly popular 1931 gangster film of the same name starring then little-known actor Edward G. Robinson. In 1949, he published The Asphalt Jungle, which was filmed the next year under the direction of John Huston and is widely considered to be a quintessential heist film. These are just two examples of Burnett’s output, but he clearly had a knack for turning out filmable fiction. It probably didn’t hurt that he was a skilled screenwriter, as well as a novelist, and often adapted his own work.

Much of Burnett’s storytelling in the crime genre revolved around gangsters and robbery capers. In 1940, he penned a tale that incorporated both and added a twist by moving the action out of the asphalt jungle of the city and into the wilds of the American West. High Sierra, published by Alfred A. Knopf, is the story of Roy Earle, a small-time gangster who ran with John Dillinger and wound up being sentenced to a lifetime’s confinement in prison. As the novel opens, however, Roy is driving across the country, headed for California, after just six years behind bars in Illinois. At 37, he’s been granted a full pardon, secured for him by “Big Mac” M’Gann, who bribed the governor in order to get Roy out of stir. Mac, suffering from ill health, has engineered the heist of a popular mountain resort in Southern California, where all the big shots from Hollywood go to gamble and flaunt their wealth and jewelry, and he wants Roy to pull off one last score for him. Two inexperienced thugs, Red Hattery and Babe Kozak, have been enlisted to do the dirty work, and an inside man, Louis, is providing key information about the layout of the resort. Roy is needed to organize the crew and lead this seemingly easy job.

(Right) High Sierra, Alfred A. Knopf, 1940.

During the drive west, Roy meets “Pa” and “Ma” Goodhue. They have lost their farm in Ohio and are taking their granddaughter, Velma (who is afflicted with a club foot), to Los Angeles to live with Velma’s mother. Roy, who was also reared on a Midwestern farm and longs to return to that idyllic life, hits it off immediately with the Goodhues and is attracted to Velma.

When he arrives at the motor camp near the resort, where the gang is meeting to plan and wait for their go-ahead, Roy finds out there is another person there, Marie Garson, a girl who Babe picked up at a “dime-a-dance joint” in L.A. Roy is not pleased with this turn of events, but he ends up letting Marie stay. He is also introduced to a mangy stray dog called Pard by the camp’s Black handyman, Algernon, who explains to Roy that Pard brings bad luck to anyone who adopts him. Not being the superstitious type, Roy takes in the dog, too.

Can anyone guess where this is going? Right. Pear-shaped.

Marie falls in love with Roy. Roy falls in love with Velma, pays to have her foot operated on, and has his marriage proposal rejected (Velma’s already got a fiancé back home). Predictably, the heist goes sideways—a security guard is shot and Red and Babe are killed in a car crash during the getaway—and Roy, Marie, and Pard end up on the run. Things get even worse when Roy reaches L.A. and finds that Big Mac has died and he has no way to collect his cut of the money for their stolen jewels. In the meantime, Roy is wounded, Louis squeals to the cops, and a manhunt for Roy (now dubbed “Mad Dog” Earle in the press) ensues. Roy convinces Marie to take Pard and head east to San Bernardino to wait for him. Short on gas and cash, Roy holds up a drugstore and is recognized, leading to a chase over a mountain pass in the shadow of mammoth Mount Whitney. When Roy is stopped by a boulder blocking the road, he takes off up the mountain on foot. The police draw near and a marksman shoots him. Fade to black.

High Sierra in paperback (left to right): From Bantam, 1950, with art by Harry Schaare; Corgi, 1958; and Carroll & Graf, 1986.


The novel has two major flaws. The first is the abruptness of its ending. For a book called High Sierra, the chase up that 14,505-foot mountain and subsequent standoff occupy fewer than four pages at the end. Both film versions discussed below vastly improve on the drama and tension of Burnett’s original climax. The second flaw is much more serious. The racism the author heaps on Algernon is unforgivable. Not only is the character treated as a stereotype and a caricature, but he is repeatedly referred to with vile racial epithets, both in the white characters’ dialogue and in Burnett’s exposition. Even for 1940, this seems extreme, cruel, and wholly unnecessary.

The initial big-screen version of High Sierra, which premiered on January 25, 1941, is an important bridge between the popular gangster films of the 1930s and film noir (a term that had not been coined yet). It is not really a gangster film, or a heist film, or a film noir, and yet it contains elements of all three. The screenplay was written collaboratively by John Huston and Burnett, and the plot is extremely faithful to the novel. For the role of Roy Earle, director Raoul Walsh reluctantly cast Humphrey Bogart, who up until that time had only served in supporting roles in B-pictures.

(Left) Humphrey Bogart with his younger screen “moll,” Ida Lupino.

According to Marilyn Ann Moss, in her 2011 biography of Raoul Walsh, Bogart lobbied Warner Bros. hard for this role. He won it after top Warner star Paul Muni, who’d played the lead in Scarface—a 1932 Howard Hawks-directed feature that Burnett had also had a hand in scripting—and George Raft, who was adamant that his fans did not want to see him die onscreen, turned it down. Bogart didn’t get top billing, though; that honor went to Ida Lupino for her role as Marie. Lupino’s star had risen significantly after her appearance the previous year in They Drive By Night, also directed by Walsh and starring both Raft and Bogart. A big part of the reason Warner wanted Raft for High Sierra was due to the success of Drive; studio execs saw the Walsh-Raft-Lupino combo as a winner.

Shot on location outside Lone Pine, California, High Sierra was a box office hit and made Humphrey Bogart a star. It also boosted John Huston’s career and, based on the success of this film, Warner Bros. decided to let him try his hand as a director. His debut in said capacity came with The Maltese Falcon, which was released later that same year, starred Bogart as San Francisco private eye Sam Spade—another role that Raft refused to play—and, well, you know the rest of the story. Bogart never again received second billing to anyone.

But Ida Lupino, then only 23 years old, deserved her headliner status in this film. Her performance is terrific as Marie, the taxi dancer who wants to crash out of her dead-end life and sees Roy as the means to that end. It also helped pave the way for Lupino to begin writing, directing, and producing her own motion pictures by the end of the decade. (And in 1953, she became the first woman to direct a film noir when she helmed RKO’s The Hitch-Hiker.)

The official, 1941 trailer for High Sierra.


As mentioned previously, the ending of this flick vastly improves on what the novel offers. Maybe Burnett realized his original was jarringly abrupt and was happy to get a do-over, or perhaps the credit belongs to Huston. In any event, this time the standoff with Roy on Mount Whitney lasts long enough for a large crowd to gather below, including newspaper and radio reporters. (In a bit of coincidental casting, Jerome Cowan appears as a journo with just about as many lines as he would be given later that year playing Sam Spade’s doomed partner, Miles Archer.) The standoff also provides time enough for Marie and Pard to arrive on the scene. When Marie refuses to call up the mountain to Roy and lure him out into the open, Pard’s barking does the job, giving a police sharpshooter the opportunity to take him out. After Roy’s lifeless body tumbles down the slope, one of the closing shots is of Pard, licking his hand. That dog was bad luck, after all.

The movie also treats handyman Algernon (played by Willie Best) marginally better than the book. There are no racial slurs in the dialogue, but a cringe-worthy portrayal of Algernon as a lazy, superstitious “Stepin Fetchit” stereotype is hard to watch.

In many respects, High Sierra reminds the viewer of a western, especially with it climactic shootout amid dramatic mountain scenery. Director Raoul Walsh certainly saw those qualities in the first film adaptation and, in 1948, when Warner Bros. found itself short on good scripts, he pitched the idea of actually turning High Sierra into a western. Studio mogul Jack Warner approved the project, shooting took place in New Mexico from September to November, 1948, and the finished Colorado Territory premiered in June 1949.

This time around, the protagonist is mid-19th-century bank robber Wes McQueen (played by Joel McCrea), who is busted out of jail by his old friend Dave Rickard (Basil Ruysdael) and told to head off to Colorado Territory. In the stagecoach along the way, McQueen meets Fred Winslow (Henry Hull, who played the doctor in High Sierra) and his daughter, Julie Ann (Dorothy Malone—not disabled like Velma Goodhue, just in a very bad mood); they are bound west to take up ranching. Julie Ann is the spitting image of Wes’ old girlfriend, Martha, who died while he was in prison. McQueen travels to the ghost town of Todos Santos, where he meets the rest of his gang: Reno (John Archer), Duke (James Mitchell), and Colorado Carson (Virginia Mayo), who Reno picked up in an El Paso dance hall. In this version of the story, the gang has been assembled to execute a train robbery. Wes is tired of the outlaw life and hopes to use his share of the loot from this one last job to buy his own ranch and settle down, preferably with Julie Ann as his wife.

Following the general outline of High Sierra, McQueen is betrayed at every turn, first by the “inside man” railroad station agent, then by his partners, and finally—and most cruelly of all—by Julie Ann, who is barely stopped by Colorado Carson from turning him in for the reward money, a selfish impulse that earns her a slap from her father. Only Colorado can be trusted, and Wes eventually recognizes her as his true love. They go on the lam together and try to get married at the derelict Todos Santos mission, but the padre there explains he is “not a priest, only a brother,” and cannot perform wedding ceremonies. When Wes realizes the posse is closing in on them, he unsaddles Colorado’s horse to prevent her from following him. He rides into the “Canyon of Death,” hoping to elude his pursuers and escape south into Mexico, where he and Colorado can be reunited. Not so easily deterred, Colorado follows on foot and eventually catches up to the posse, which has McQueen holed up in the abandoned “City of the Moon,” an ancient Pueblo settlement carved out of the canyon wall. When Colorado arrives, the sheriff tricks her into luring Wes out into the open, where a sniper can shoot him. This time, though, Wes is only wounded. Colorado races up to meet him, carrying two pistols. As Colorado starts blasting lead at posse members, the doomed couple is cut down in a hail of gunfire, dying hand in hand.

Again, a much more dramatic climax than Burnett’s novel offered.

Not surprisingly, given its source material and director, Colorado Territory is a very good production, one which American film historian David Meuel thinks, “in several ways, improves on the original.” Although not quite an “A” picture, it definitely rises above “B” status. It is also a prime example of the “noir western” subgenre that combined elements of film noir (including cinematography techniques) with the traditional western—Walsh was a pioneer of the noir western, with his 1947 film, Pursued, featuring noir stalwart Robert Mitchum, often considered to be one of the earliest examples.

The original, 1949 theatrical trailer for Colorado Territory.


The acting in Colorado Territory is strong, even if the Wes McQueen role is somewhat miscast. A veteran of countless westerns, Joel McCrea was resistant to playing “bad guy” parts during his career. So, he is not quite believable as an outlaw, even one who wants to leave behind his life of crime and settle down with the woman he adores. But he has strong chemistry with Virginia Mayo and he is not someone to be messed with in a gunfight. There are no dogs or racial stereotypes in this version, although we are told that Colorado is a “half-breed” (“Unusual for a blonde, wasn’t it?” Virginia Mayo is reported as saying years later). Otherwise, the Native Americans in the film, although in small roles, appear to be treated in non-stereotypical ways and with basic respect and dignity—on both sides of the law.

High Sierra was remade again in 1955 as I Died a Thousand Times. It is described as a scene-by-scene remake of the 1941 version, albeit in color, and this time Burnett is the sole credited screenwriter. In an interview (quoted in Marilyn Ann Moss’ Walsh biography), Burnett stated that the script for the original was weakened by the interference of associate producer Mark Hellinger and indicated his clear preference for this version. “The main point wasn’t as strong as it should have been. I corrected that in the remake … The remake is a better picture. Except we had two repulsive people in it—Jack Palance and Shelley Winters … I think the script is much better. I cleaned up the script …” This writer has not yet seen it.

SOURCES
Meuel, David. The Noir Western: Darkness on the Range, 1943-1962. McFarland & Company, 2015.
Moss, Marilyn Ann. Raoul Walsh: The True Adventures of Hollywood’s Legendary Director. The University of Kentucky Press, 2011.
Nott, Robert. Last of the Cowboy Heroes: The Westerns of Randolph Scott, Joel McCrea, and Audie Murphy. McFarland & Company, 2000.

READ MORE: W.R. Burnett’s 1982 Obituary.

Bringing Kerr’s Berlin to Television

We were already aware that the streaming service Apple TV+ intended to adapt the late Philip Kerr’s excellent Berlin Noir thrillers for the small screen. But the London Times brings news now that filming “is at last underway,” with Jack Lowden (Slow Horses) starring as Kerr’s Nazi-era detective, Berlin Gunther. As The Times explains,
The series will be based on Metropolis, which chronologically is the earliest Gunther story, although the last published by Kerr. It is set in 1928—hence the title’s nod to Fritz Lang’s film of the time—and features Gunther as a young policeman working the vice beat in the seething German capital immortalised by Christopher Isherwood.

Kerr’s early novels have been characterised as Raymond Chandler transposed to the period of Weimar and the rise of Nazism, with later books cutting between the war years and those before and after it. The hard-boiled Gunther, who served as a sergeant in the First World War and whose wife then died of Spanish influenza, certainly shares similarities with Chandler’s cynical gumshoe, Philip Marlowe. The common tone is one of world-weariness. Both are essentially disappointed romantics who have come to an accommodation with the powers that be. They try to do the right thing, particularly when there is an attractive woman involved, but often find themselves in the role of fall guy.
The paper goes on to remark that “Part of the appeal for Apple is doubtless parallels that could be drawn now with a period when extremism was also on the rise. It is in Metropolis, as he investigates a baffling series of murders of those living on the margins, that Gunther first encounters nascent fascism. The chief challenge, however, for screenwriter Peter Straughan, who adapted Wolf Hall for television and won an Oscar for Conclave, will be capturing Kerr’s ability to meticulously recreate the era, as well as the spirit of the other principal character in the books, Berlin and its hard-headed inhabitants. With luck, Kerr will finally get the popular recognition he deserves.” Tom Shankland will direct the new show.

In addition to Lowden, this historical drama will feature Oscar winner Colin Firth, playing “Paul Lohser, a brilliant but prickly Murder Detective with the Berlin Police. Meticulous, anti-social and well-educated,” according to Deadline, “he’s everything Bernie isn’t. And as his partner and unlikely mentor, Lohser is Bernie’s best and only hope of catching … a serial killer targeting victims on the fringes of society.”

Thursday, February 19, 2026

Times Tallies Talent

Presentation of the 2026 Los Angeles Times Book Prizes is set to take place on Friday, April 17. In the run-up to that, five final contenders have been announced in the Mystery/Thriller category. They are:

El Dorado Drive, by Megan Abbott (Putnam)
Everybody Wants to Rule the World, by Ace Atkins (Morrow)
Crooks, by Lou Berney (Morrow)
The Proving Ground, by Michael Connelly (Little, Brown)
King of Ashes, by S.A. Cosby (Pine & Cedar)

In addition, Tod Golberg’s Only Way Out (Thomas & Mercer) has found a place among candidates in the general fiction category.

Congratulations to all of the nominees! To see more finalists for this year’s L.A. Times prize categories, click here.

Monday, February 16, 2026

Revue of Reviewers: 2-16-26

Critiquing some of the most interesting recent crime, mystery, and thriller releases. Click on the individual covers to read more.