JOHN DUNNING – Two O’Clock, Eastern Wartime. Scribner, hardcover, 2001. Paperback reprint: Pocket, 2002.

   In John Dunning’s 2001 thriller, Two O’Clock, Eastern Wartime, one of the characters says of radio:

   Radio — dramatic radio — in a sense is one of the characters in the book. One of the main characters, Jordan Ten Eyck, is a writer who discovers the power of dramatic radio writing while he finds himself in the midst of a cracker of a thriller involving Nazi spies, murder and mystery surrounding a fledgling radio station, WHAR, in fictional Regina Beach, New Jersey. The time is 1942.

   Dunning, as most old time radio fans know, is no stranger to radio or old-time radio. He is the author of two encyclopedias of the Golden Age of Radio: Tune in Yesterday and On the Air: The Encyclopedia of Old Time Radio.

   He also was the host of a radio show, Old Time Radio, in Denver for many years. But Dunning also is a writer of mystery thrillers. This Nero Wolfe Award winner is the author of several other suspense stories, among them Booked to Die and The Bookman’s Wake.

   Two O’Clock, Eastern Wartime tells the story of Jack Dulaney, aka Jordan Ten Eyck, and Holly Carnahan. The two were in love years ago but drifted apart after the death of their friend and Jack’s rival, Tom Rooney. Now Jack wants to find Holly again, and with the help of an often-inebriated radio actor friend, Marty Kendall, he begins his trip across America to Pennsylvania, where Tom, Jack, and Holly all lived at one time and was Holly’s last known address.

   But Jack encounters only suspicious characters and death along the way and, eventually, finds himself in Regina Beach, New Jersey at radio station, WHAR, looking for work and Holly’s father, Tom Carnahan. It is there that Jordan begins his career as a radio writer and with the WHAR radio community — Rue, Pauline and Hazel, radio actresses; Livia, a sound artist; and Waldo, creator of the magnificent black program, Freedom Road.

   Woven into the story is Jordan’s journey into the discovery of the power of radio drama:

   Jordan discovers the power of radio and nothing, it seems, can hold back his thirst for creation as scripts and ideas continue to flood out of him. Later, he discovers that he can move beyond even that thirst by directing his own work. Dunning, through Jordan, makes the power of radio drama come alive.

   All the thrill and excitement of the production both as listener as well as participant is explored. Meanwhile, Jordan becomes absorbed in the mystery of what became of Holly’s father, who disappeared from the radio station before their arrival and of one of the radio actor’s, March Flack, who disappeared in 1936. And what about the station’s seemingly ominous owner, Mr. Harford?

   Jordan begins to write powerful and politically explosive scripts to the encouragement of the radio owner and management who hope to return the station to a glorious time before the war. His excitement begins to affect the actors and technicians as production reaches fever pitch.

   Surrounding this is Jordan the detective trying to find out what really happened at the station several years before. Using the power of his radio scripts, he attempts to seek out the truth from those who were there.

   Jordan and Holly both become targets and become wrapped into the intrigue endangering them. The mystery of the German Schroeder boys, George and Peter, the attempts on his life, the mystery around the radio writer, Paul Kruger and his script about the Boer war all need answers for Jordan. The book is full of wonderful characters with stories to tell, who carry their own sense of mystery with them.

   There are a number of writers who have written stories framed around early radio, but if you are both a fan of old time radio as well as a mystery thriller fan, then this book will definitely entertain.

   John Dunning is a superb writer. As a mystery writer, he is new to this reviewer, but he is certainly an author I will seek out again.

Editorial Comment:   Jim Widner has long been involved with Old Time Radio, both as a collector and as a researcher, author and indexer. His web site is devoted to OTR in a historical context at Radio Days. For several years he has also produced a podcast called the Radio Detective Story Hour. Follow the links to each.

JIM BUTCHER – Changes. Roc, hardcover, April 2010; tall paperback: March 2011.

Genre:   Paranormal mystery. Leading character:   Harry Dresden, 12th in series. Setting:   Chicago.

First Sentence:   I answered the phone, and Susan Rodriguez said, “They’ve taken our daughter.”

   Seven years ago, wizard Harry Dresden’s love, Susan Rodriguez left after being turned into a half-vampire. Now she calls to tell him that his daughter Maggie, about whom he’d never known, has been kidnapped by the Duchess of the Red Court.

   Harry learns that Maggie is to be a blood sacrifice in an act that will destroy him and many others. Harry is determined to rescue his daughter.

   I am, primarily, a mystery reader. I picked up Storm Front, the first Harry Dresden book by Jim Butcher thinking it would be interesting to see how he brings mysteries and the paranormal together.

   While the books are far more paranormal/fantasy than mystery, about half-way into that first book, the genre definition no longer mattered. Harry Dresden is not the stuff of fairy tales — at least, not the Disney versions — Grimm was, after all, rather grim — but the stuff of nightmares with a wickedly good sense of humor.

   It is definitely a series to be read in order. And, boy, does Butcher know how to tell a story. He touches every emotion while making us face the monsters in the closet. I thoroughly enjoy the references to movie, television, literature which have become part of our popular culture.

   The world and characters created by Butcher are vividly drawn and often very unpleasant. Much of that is offset by the strong human characters, excellent dialogue and wonderful humor. There is a delightful bit where Harry says firmly, “I don’t do hats.” This is a jab to the fact that the cover of every book shows Harry wearing a hat.

   Dresden is a classic hero. He is tall, attractive, strong, clever, protects the innocent and weak, destroys the bad buys and isn’t overly macho ever. As with each previous book, we continue to learn more of Dresden’s background. We also see the extent to which he is willing to go to protect and save others.

   In Changes, Butcher brings together nearly all the characters of previous books for this pivotal story, and some wonderful characters they are. It’s thanks to his skill and imagination that we have Bob, the intelligent spirit who love trashy romance novels; Molly, Harry’s apprentice; Mouse, the amazing Foo dog; and all the others, human and inhuman.

   The story is non-stop with some breath-catching moments, both in terms of pacing and suspense. It is touching, suspenseful, gruesome, emotional, violent and occasionally funny.

   The book’s ending is as much a shock to us as it is to Harry. I’m one who usually abhors cliff-hanger ending, but then realized Butcher did play fair with us by the lead up to the ending. I am concerned about where the series is going from here, as I know the series is continuing. I’ll just have to trust to Butcher’s wonderful writing and go along for the adventure.

Rating:   Very Good Plus.

SIMON GREEN – Hawk and Fisher. Ace, paperback original; 1st printing, September 1990. Reprinted in Swords of Haven: The Adventures of Hawk & Fisher, an omnibus edition containing the first three books in the series; see below. Penguin/Roc, July 1999; trade ppbk, June 2006.

   It is quite remarkable how you can come across the most interesting sorts of things when you least expect them. No one looking for the best locked room mystery written in 1990 (I wager to say) would ever in their right mind pick this book up to read — looking as it does as the latest variation of the Conan-based fantasy-action series that clog the science fiction shelves in every Waldenbooks store in the country.

   Hawk and Fisher (male and female, and married to each other) are two captains of the guard in the dark city of Haven, on some unknown world at some unknown time, where magic works, and vampires, werewolves and succubi abound. (He has a patch over one eye, and she wears a shirt that exposes an ample amount of bosom, as well illustrated on the front cover.)

   They are both tough, and even more remarkably, they are both honest, a rarity in Haven.

   After disposing of a particularly bothersome vampire, they are asked to investigate the stabbing of an important reformist councilor in his locked bedroom. The crime could not have been committed by a magical spell, as first suspected, as the dead man wore an amulet about his neck designed especially to ward off such attacks.

   Being a reformist in local politics means that the victim had many enemies, but the only ones who could have killed him are trapped in the house with him. Thus what this resembles, in perverse but strangely believable fashion, is an exceptionally good isolated county manor caper, complete with false trails, red herrings, and fine old-fashioned detective work.

   The solution to the crime, reasonably intricate, is meticulously worked out as well. I can’t see any flaws in the story, which certainly triggered all the right responses in me. I don’t know how easy it will be for you to get your hands on a copy, but since several more in the series have appeared in the meantime, it’s possible Ace may have kept them all in print. Highly recommended.

   And from later on, from the same issue of Mystery*File:

SIMON GREEN – Winner Takes All. Ace, paperback original; 1st printing, January 1991.

   The second in Green’s “Hawk & Fisher” series. The first, Hawk & Fisher, was an extremely pleasant surprise — a well-written locked room mystery taking place in a world of pure fantasy.

   This new adventure of the two married members of the Guards is pure politics, however, as election time is nearing. Lots of swords, lots of evil sorcery, lots of action. Entertaining, but still a disappointment in not living up to expectations.

       The Hawk & Fisher series:

Hawk & Fisher. Ace, September 1990.
Hawk & Fisher: Winner Takes All. Ace, January 1991.
Hawk & Fisher: The God Killer. Ace, June 1991.

Hawk & Fisher: Wolf in the Fold. Ace, September 1991
Hawk & Fisher: Guard Against Dishonor. Ace, December 1991.
Hawk & Fisher: The Bones of Haven. Ace, March 1992.

   The six books were reprinted in two omnibus editions. The first is so mentioned above. The second grouping of three titles was entitled Guards of Haven, Penguin/Roc, ppbk, November 1999; trade ppbk, June 2007.

Editorial Comments:   The artwork is so finely detailed it does not show up well in normal-sized images; hence the blow-up, as you see!

   Also, George Kelley has just reviewed the two omnibus editions of Hawk & Fisher books on his blog. You can read his comments by following this link.

PETER LOVESEY – Skeleton Hill. Soho Press, hardcover, September 2009; trade paperback, September 2010.

   In this novel, the tenth in the Peter Diamond series, the discovery of a headless skeleton and the subsequent disappearance of a university lecturer seem to present Diamond with two cases to manage.

   However, when the missing lecturer turns up dead, Diamond’s always difficult (from his point of view) boss, Assistant Constable Georgina Dallymore, informs him that the case is being transferred to Bristol, where the lecturer was teaching.

   Faced with the prospect of losing what seems to be the more viable case, Diamond convinces Georgina to loan him out to Bristol to head the investigation, while his capable assistant Keith Halliwell takes the lead on the skeleton case.

   Although it’s Diamond’s opinion that the two cases are connected, the evidence doesn’t support that early on. However, when the break does come that confirms the link, Diamond is repositioned as the lead investigator, and the measured pulse of the initial stages of the investigation accelerates with almost unbearable intensity.

   I have thought that, since the murder of his wife, Diamond had been somewhat off his form, but there’s no question of that in this superbly paced addition to the series.

Bibliographic Notes:   Besides the ten books in his Peter Diamond series, Peter Lovesey was also the author of eight adventures of Sergeant Cribb, set in 1880s London, threee books with Albert Edward, Prince of Wales (aka Bertie), and two cases for Inspector Hen Mallin. (Hen is short for Henrietta.) As if this were not enough, he has also written another ten or so non-series books, not all of which may be criminous.

Previously reviewed on this blog —

      Bloodhounds (by L. J. Roberts)

DANA STABENOW – A Cold Day for Murder. Berkley, paperback original; 1st printing, June 1992.

   The first Kate Shugak mystery, she being a former investigator for the DA’s office in Anchorage, here persuaded to check out the disappearance of a Park Ranger six weeks before.

   This is as much about real life in Alaska as it is a mystery, which is OK, but I prefer my detective stories to have more meat to them, and not to be quite so obvious as this.

COMMENT: Stabenow’s book, I have later discovered, won an Edgar as best paperback mystery of the year. Obviously the MWA is looking for social relevance, and they could care less about what I personally read detective fiction for: a solidly plotted story.

[UPDATE] 06-18-10. My views on the objection I put forth in that last paragraph above have changed since I wrote it, back in 1993, but then again, not necessarily all that much. I still look for a detective story first, but if I enjoy the characters and the interaction between them, then a tightly knit puzzle is neither crucial nor first and foremost on my mind.

   I do remember the general story of A Cold Day for Murder, but I don’t recall enough to know if I’d object as much now to the “social relevance” that I found as displeasing as I did back then.

   But I certainly missed the boat on this one, all around. Not only I did have to admit I did not recognize the Edgar-winning quality of her first book, Dana Stabenow has gone on to well-regarded and solidly established writing career.

   There are now 17 books in the Kate Shugak series, another four books with Liam Campbell, and two stand-alones. Liam Campbell is an Alaska State Trooper who, when live backs up on him, takes a post out in an isolated native town far from anywhere. I’ve read one of these also, and while I don’t have handy the review I wrote, I remember feeling the same way about it as I did this first one with Kate Shugak.

   Which is to say, a weak story line, plotwise, and characters I didn’t find myself getting close to. If you were to say I’m all wet about this, I’d just have to grin and bear it.

KINKY FRIEDMAN – Elvis, Jesus & Coca Cola. Simon & Schuster, hardcover, 1993. Reprint paperback: Bantam, 1996. The Kinkster #6.

   Admit it now: it’s a hell of a title, quintessentially American, and no one but Friedman could — or would — have come up with it. Love him or loathe him, and lots do each, he’s an American original.

   Kinky’s got the blues. One of his best friends has died, and it’s hit him hard. The friend was working on a movie about Elvis impersonators, and his father asks Kinky to see if he can find the working copy of the film, which is missing.

   Kinky doesn’t figure that will be any problem, but something else quickly becomes one — Uptown Judy (to distinguish her from Downtown Judy), one of his occasional ladies, is missing from her apartment and there are bloodstains on the floor.

   Then the dead friend’s assistant who was supposed to have information about the missing film turns up murdered. The Kinkster and his motley crew of assistants go to work trying to make sense of it all.

   I’m always at somewhat of a loss trying to write about Friedman’s books. There’s no way in the world to pass along the flavor, and the flavor is what it’s all about. The plots range from very little to pretty weak, and we aren’t talking in-depth characterization or narrative flow. We’re talking about a unique brand of prose. Sayin’s. Aphorisms.

   A way of writing, and writing about life, that will strike you either as wise and very, very funny, as it does me; or profanely, obscenely, and misogynistically unfunny, as it has others. It’s said too often and is too often untrue, but trust me this time: he’s one of a kind. Sui generis.

   Whether that’s a blessing or a curse is something you’ll have to decide for yourself.

   I think he’s a hoot, myself.

Editorial Comment:   I never met Barry myself. He lived in Texas, I lived in Connecticut. He attended mystery conventions, I seldom did nor have I since. But we were in DAPA-Em together, and we enjoyed each other’s reviews there, and swapped mailing comments there. We were friends, albeit through the mail and through each other’s zines only.

   Barry worked for the Dallas Fire Department until his retirement in 1989, but he didn’t discover mystery fandom for another two years or so. Ah, Sweet Mysteries was the name of the zine that he produced for the apa, each of them running 20 pages or more. Besides his own zine, his reviews began popping up in all of the major, well-known mystery fanzines of the day: The Armchair Detective, CADS, Deadly Pleasures and many others. You name it, he was there.

   Not only was he prolific, but he always managed to put his finger on what made each novel he reviewed work, or (in such cases) why it didn’t. Instinctively and incisively, he seemed to know detective and mystery fiction inside out. He had a critical eye, but he invariably used it softly while cutting immediately to the essence of a story.

   Barry died in 1996 — suddenly, without any warning. George Easter, who still publishes Deadly Pleasures, almost immediately set up the Barry Awards in his name, to honor the Best in Detective and Mystery Fiction on a yearly basis. See George’s website for more information.

   I’m pleased more than I can say that Barry’s wife Ellen has granted me permission to reprint Barry’s reviews from Ah, Sweet Mysteries on this blog. Thank you, Ellen, very much.

ONE NIGHT IN THE TROPICS. Universal Pictures, 1940. Allan Jones, Nancy Kelly, Bud Abbott, Lou Costello, Robert Cummings, Mary Boland, Peggy Moran, William Frawley, Leo Carillo. Screenplay: Gertrude Pursell, Charles Grayson, John Grant (uncredited), adapted by Kathryn Scolla & Francis Martin from the novel Love Insurance, by Earl Derr Biggers. Songs by Jerome Kern, Oscar Hammerstein & Dorothy Fields. Director: A. Edward Sutherland

   This was the film debut of Abbott and Costello (Lou Costello had appeared in some silent films in bit parts) and it leaves you wanting more of them and less of almost everything else in the film save for Robert Cummings and Peggy Moran, including the forgettable Kern, Hammerstein, and Fields songs Allan Jones regularly breaks into.

   That to one side, it’s a pretty good screwball romantic comedy that benefits from an expert cast.

   Robert Cummings is Steve Harper, a less than bright playboy who has fallen in love with Cynthia Merrick (Nancy Kelly), but who finds his way to true love opposed on two fronts — first by a series of mishaps with Cynthia’s Aunt Kitty (Mary Boland) and secondly by his ex-girlfriend, Mickey Fitzgerald (Peggy Moran), who isn’t planning on letting him get away.

   Enter Steve’s old pal Lucky Moore (Allan Jones, father of singer Jack Jones). Lucky is an insurance man par excellence, and has a bright idea — he’ll sell Steve a $1 million dollar policy guaranteeing that Steve and Cynthia end up together. It’s a cinch. Love insurance — why didn’t anyone think of it before?

   Lucky’s father isn’t so sure about that so he makes Lucky find an underwriter for the ‘sure thing’ policy — nightclub owner William Frawley, who assigns two lunkheads in his employ to make sure things don’t go wrong — Bud and Lou …

   Obviously just about everyone in the film is suffering from a serious lack of good judgment. It’s one of those plots where if anyone listened or paused to think, the whole facade would crumble. Fortunately for us, and unfortunately for the characters, no one even thinks about having a rational thought for the span of the film.

   Earl Derr Biggers’ novel was filmed before in 1919 and 1924, like his highly famous Seven Keys to Baldpate and The Agony Column, both highly popular works and filmed multiple times. (Readers here hardly need reminding Biggers was also the creator of Charlie Chan.)

   As Mickey schemes to get Steve back and Steve tries to win over Aunt Kitty, the problems multiply, and bumbling Bud and Lou don’t help. And when Lucky meets Cynthia he falls head over heels for her and she for him.

   Cynthia sails for the Tropics to get away from the mess, and naturally Steve follows with Mickey in tow, Lucky along to sabotage his own best interests, and Bud and Lou dispatched to make sure Steve and Cynthia get together and stay together. Once there Leo Carillo gets thrown in the mix as a Latin Lothario.

   Despite the minor songs, the film is bright and funny, and if you fins yourself wishing for more of Bud and Lou or even Cummings and Moran, Allan Jones and Nancy Kelly are attractive leads, and if they can’t quite compete with the zaniness of the others involved, they handle this extremely well. It’s not their fault that Cummings has a thousand times more screen presence than Jones, or that Peggy Moran has all the best lines other than the boys (Bud and Lou).

   There is an abbreviated version of ‘Who’s On First?’ on hand and several of the boys routines as well as the usual wise cracks and smart lines:

   There is also what may well be the first Humphrey Bogart joke on film:

   One Night in the Tropics is a good minor musical that moves fast and features bright players and crackling dialogue. Other than those they did at MGM, production values were somewhat higher than later Abbott and Costello films, and the cast is excellent.

   That said, you are bound to wish there had been more of the boys and Cummings and Moran and less of Jones and Kelly.

   The boys’ next outing was Buck Privates, and they never took a back seat to anyone again in their own films, though Kathryn Grayson and John Carroll get quite a bit of screen time in Rio Rita where the boys are slipped into an old plot.

   Overall this one is bright and funny, and for once the romantic comedy aspect is good enough to hold your attention when the boys are off screen. But it’s a shame Peggy Moran and Robert Cummings weren’t teamed again. They are almost as much fun as Bud and Lou, which you can’t always say about the romantic leads in this kind of film.

Note: Thanks to the IMDB website for providing the exact wording of the first two sets of quotes.

MILES BURTON – Death Visits Downspring. Doubleday Crime Club, hardcover, 1941. UK edition published as Up the Garden Path, Collins Crime Club, hardcover, 1941.

   It was 1941, the war clearly was here to stay for some time, and Americans evidently were ready to read about it in their English detective fiction. John Dickson Carr had placed Murder in the Submarine Zone (Nine–And Death Makes Ten) the year before, and in 1941 Agatha Christie would ask her readers the tantalizing question N or M? while Margery Allingham would investigate a Traitor’s Purse.

   For his part, John Street that year contributed two wartime detective novels with espionage elements, one a “John Rhode,” They Watched by Night (Signal for Death), the other, the title under review here, a Miles Burton. While They Watched by Night is the better of the two tales, Death Visits Downspring makes an entertaining read. (I use the American title to distinguish the book from a 1949 John Rhode novel that in England also used the title Up the Garden Path!)

   The novel opens with murder appearing at night on the doorstep of Downspring’s own police sergeant. His wife and a woman friend of hers are discussing the upcoming dance in aid of the Comforts Fund (we learn the “Raggle Taggle Band” has been engaged — apparently a good thing!) when a knock is heard at the door.

   Mr. Noakes, the butler at Valley View, the local great house, has come to talk to the police sergeant, but the latter man was called away suddenly. As a disappointed Noakes leaves and the police sergeant’s wife shuts the door behind him, he is violently struck down. Murder!

   Inspector Arnold is sent by the Yard to take over the case and, being Arnold, he fails to make much progress for much of the novel. (Arnold actually does manage to solve several solo cases — apparently Street wanted to show that miracles can happen occasionally.)

   Meanwhile, there is a second murder — another bludgeoning — and it appears that somewhere in the neighborhood intelligence is being transmitted to the enemy. (German planes periodically drop bombs and engage in aerial fights during the story.)

   Miles Burton’s brilliant amateur gentleman detective, Desmond Merrion, is working in intelligence for the duration of the war (as Street himself once did) and he arrives on the scene in the last 40% of the novel to put an end to the espionage and, incidentally, solve the murders too.

   Miles Burton’s novels often tend to be fairly cozy affairs, and Death Visits Downspring is no exception to this general rule. As usual, Street writes with authority about village life (“The inspector’s experience had taught him that when a native said it as impossible to lose the way it turned out to be exceptionally difficult to find”), and much of the pleasure to be derived from the novel comes from its authentic atmosphere.

   No real gentry appear, despite the fact there is a great house, Valley View, in the vicinity. Valley View, we learn, is modernistic barracks of a place that was built built by a wealthy, knighted pickle king who has passed on to that great cannery in the sky; and it is now occupied by strangers from London, crippled Alvar Dorn, his striking daughter Roma and their three pugnacious Cockney maids.

   Similarly, at nearby Brook Bungalow live other relative newcomers, romance novelist Ellen Daintry and her evacuated, rambunctious nephew, Peter. Additional characters like Captain Baldock, tradesman Mr. Fisherton, commercial traveler Charlie Gatwick and market gardener Reuben Pentecost are not exactly out of the top drawer, and they are none the less interesting for that!

   In the novel there are two mysteries: who committed the murders and how exactly is information transmitted to the enemy. While neither mystery is fiendishly difficult for the seasoned reader, both should provide sufficient entertainment to the mystery buff. Combining these mysteries with the wartime village atmosphere, John Street gave readers an enjoyable detective novel.

ALAN BRADLEY – The Weed That Strings the Hangman’s Bag. Delacorte Press, hardcover, March 2010. Trade paperback: Bantam, December 2010.

Genre:   Traditional mystery. Leading character:   Flavia de Luce, 2nd in series. Setting:   England, 1950s.

First Sentence:   I was lying dead in the churchyard.

    Ten-year-old Flavia de Luce is ignored by her father, and continually set upon by her sisters. To compensate, she has her grandfather’s old laboratory, where she indulges her love of chemistry and skill with poisons, her bicycle, Gladys, and her skill at solving puzzles.

   In The Weed That Strings Flavia befriends a beloved BBC puppeteer, Rupert Porson, and his “assistant,” who are stranded with a broken-down fan. When Rupert is electrocuted during a performance of “Jack and the Beanstalk,” Flavia knows it was no accident and finds that Rupert’s claims of not knowing anyone in the area were less than truthful.

   Flavia de Luce has quickly become one of my favorite characters. At ten years old, she is still a young girl, albeit a brilliant one, with no friends, a father who ignores all his children, and two sisters who continually abuse her, both physically and emotionally.

   I was very pleased by a wonderful scene with Flavia’s Aunt Felicity. Flavia has the logic and observation skill of Sherlock Holmes and thinks of everything in terms of their chemical composition.

   Flavia is not the only wonderful character, however. Bradley has a gift for creating an ensemble of quirky, yet believable, characters. I particularly enjoy Dogger, the shell-shocked ex-WWII soldier with pre-cognitive abilities; Dieter, the German who became a prisoner of war after being shot down due to the Brontës; and Inspector Hewitt, who takes Flavia seriously and realizes it is through her knowledge and access to people in the town that allowed the case to be solved.

   The story is a wonderful blend of science, music, art and literature, and is set at a very interesting time. World War II has ended, yet there are still issues of the aftermath. While television is coming into being, radio is still the prevalent household entertainment.

   It is the 1950s, yet the family feels more Victorian than modern. The story builds more slowly than the first book, The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie, and employs less humor, although it is still there.

   There is quite a long set-up to the murder, but it still has great impact when it happens. It reminds me a bit of Agatha Christie who liked to introduce all the characters in order to provide plenty of suspects prior to the murder.

   And, as often with Christie, I certainly did not identify the villain prior to it being revealed. This is not a “young adult” mystery, but a very good mystery whose protagonist happens to be a young adult. I am looking forward to Flavia’s next case.

Rating:   Very Good Plus.

The Flavia de Luce Series:

      The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie (2009)
      The Weed that Strings the Hangman’s Bag (2010)
      Seeds of Antiquity
      A Red Herring Without Mustard
      Death in Camera
      The Nasty Light of Day

Note:   Not all of these have publication dates; it is likely that most have not even been written yet.   Source: The Flavia de Luce website.

THE LOOKOUT. Miramax, 2007. Joseph Gordon-Levitt, Jeff Daniels, Matthew Goode, Isla Fisher, Sergio Di Zio. Screenwriter & director: Scott Frank.

   Here’s a crime film that I doubt ever played anywhere in Connecticut, and if it did, it passed through with no notice at all.

   It’s flawed, perhaps even fatally, but the performances done to perfection all the way through, some of which I’ll remember for a long time, and I recommend the movie highly. Two thumbs up, using both hands.

   Now that I have the preliminaries out of the way, what’s it about? Even as the movie begins, very very slowly in paving its own deliberate way, the title’s there in your mind, and all odds are that as you’re watching, you’ll know, like me, exactly what’s going to happen, eventually.

   What this is, is the story of Chris Pratt (Joseph Gordon-Levitt) from beginning to end. A star hockey player in high school, his world is turned upside down when a terrific automobile accident kills the couple in back seat, forces the amputation of his girl friend’s leg – she was sitting in the passenger seat beside him – he was driving, and it was his fault – and he’s trying to put something that resembles a life back together again.

   Gordon-Levitt is a marvelous young actor. He could have played his character’s obviously diminished mental capabilities too broadly, so that we can’t possibly help but take notice, but what he does, he does subtly, and he does it right. Just a bit of clumsiness now, a touch of awkwardness then, and in between, stopping ever once in while to take out his notebook to be sure he knows what he should be doing next.

   (One flaw here is the unanswered question as to how Chris Pratt would ever be allowed to drive a car, but he does; otherwise there’d be no way for him to get to the bank where he works as the overnight janitor. He hopes to work his way up to a teller.)

   I used the word Bank just a second ago. As soon as you the viewer see this, and you think of the movie’s title, you say to yourself, I know where this movie’s going. And you’d be right.

   Two more good performances. First by Matthew Goode, as the scummy but utterly convincing fellow who convinces Chris that robbing the bank would be a good idea, and secondly by Isla Fisher, the girl who helps in the convincing part by seducing Chris – there’s no better word for it – into taking on the role they have planned for him – that being, of course, the double-barreled task of letting Goode’s gang in and acting as Lookout once they do.

   (Another flaw is that once she’s played her part, Isla Fisher’s character has no place to go, and she flat out disappears from the rest of the movie.)

   The bank robbery does not go well (do they ever?) and we’ll leave it at that, although there is still a long portion of the movie yet to go. Those who have been waiting for the action to start — well, their patience is at last rewarded.

   At which point in these comments I see I have not mentioned Jeff Daniels, and I should have. He plays Chris’s roommate Lewis in the apartment they share.

   They make a good twosome, as Lewis is blind, but outwardly cheerful about it. (Inwardly we are not so sure.) It is not easy playing someone who’s blind, but Daniels, brusque and slightly overpowering in the role, is nonetheless charming and perhaps not as carefree as he lets on.

   Pfui. When I sat down and started writing this review, I intended to keep it short. And here am I telling you the whole story. But I’ve gone back over what I’ve written, and I don’t see anything I’d care to cut. Sorry.

   (One final flaw. This movie, carefully paced, ends more happily than it has any right to be. I’ll stop here. If you see the movie, or if you have seen it, you’ll know what I’m saying. Not that I have anything against happy endings, but if I’d been in charge, I’d have made some changes, if you know what I mean.)