In Bob Le Flambeur, Montmartre is the Main Character

When i think of 1950s nostalgia, I think of drive-in restaurants, waitresses on roller skates, neon, chrome and tailfins. But Bob Le Flambeur is a wonderful evocation of another lost era: the 1950s in Montmartre. Now this region of Paris has been a place for people of different classes to get together at least since the time of the impressionists, but what makes its appearance in this film amazing is how it combines the modern look of the bars (along with a huge number of dudes on either xylophones or glockenspiels) with the older look and feel of both the buildings around them and the plot of the movie.

The plot is kind of a 1930s noir / gangster flick / heist movie (and no one will be able to convince me that it didn’t inspire Ocean’s Eleven) with a plot that isn’t original — the one I think of is The Asphalt Jungle. But it’s so much better than that one.

Bob is a retired criminal and now a gambler who is still well-respected and well-connected in the underworld, played in an understated way by Roger Duchesne. He has a young sidekick, of course, and a crew straight out of central casting.

Except the girl. This girl makes the bombshells of the noir era look unsophisticated and boring. There’s just something about Isabelle Corey in this one that makes her one of the most alluring and dangerous female leads I can remember seeing. And though she’s pretty, this comes mostly from how she plays the role, without, seemingly, a care in the world.

This is a good film all around.

But it’s that walk along a Montmartre poised between the old world and the modern which really elevated it into the realm of greatness, and the reason I just immersed myself in it without a care in the world. Highly recommended.

Gustavo Bondoni is an Argentine novelist and short story writer whose latest book is a comic novel of Heroic-era Greece called The Malakiad. You can check it out here.

I Assumed Danish Films Were Weird. I was right.

To be honest, I’d never heard of Ordet outside the context of the 1001 films list. Growing up, I was never really a fan of foreign films, but even considering that, I don’t think this one would have come onto my radar.

This one is a Danish flick about a farm family with one son who suffers from the delusion that he is the second coming of Jesus and another who wants to marry a girl who, like him, is a Christian, but is the wrong kind of Christian (I assume Danes in the 1950s would have been able to know which sects were involved, but I’m not). Her father adamantly refuses to marry.

Then the one normal, utterly likable character in the whole movie, the wife of the third son, goes into a hard labor, suffers a miscarriage and…

Spoilers ahead. Stop here if you have any intention of watching the film.

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… dies, to much weeping and wailing.

Then, when the family is about to bury the dead woman, the insane son, who’d disappeared earlier in the film reappears and asks them if they’d had faith to ask god to save the woman. No one believes in him except one of the woman’s daughters, who asks him to revive her.

So he does and the film ends.

See? Told you it was weird, but it’s also a little wonderful. It’s a slow-paced, peaceful film of life on a tiny scale which suddenly turns tense during the labor scene, then sad and finally reveals itself to be bonkers. It’s eminently watchable, even today, and isn’t like anything else I’ve seen. Off the top of my head, there are only a few films on the list that touch on the overtly religious, A Matter of Life and Death and It’s a Wonderful Life, but those are a little more light-hearted and a lot more innocuous than this one which, though set in the present, is full of utterly medieval meditations about the nature of faith. The play it was based on was written by a priest, unsurprisingly.

So, one for the deep thinkers and intellectuals. It gives a lot to think about.

Gustavo Bondoni is a novelist and short story writer from Argentina who sometimes writes books that would also appeal to intellectuals. His latest work of literary fiction is entitled Safe and Sorry, and explores the nature of modern life, even touching upon the role that religion plays in mainstream society… albeit not in the obvious way. Here’s the book’s Amazon page.

The 1986 GP Season Comes to an End and Mansell is Defeated

So I was 10 in 1986, and Ferrari wasn’t going anywhere anyhow, so why did I hate the Williams team so much? I have no clue, but I did, and I remember watching Nigel Mansell’s tire tearing itself to pieces on the delayed broadcast (the real thing happened in the middle of the night where I was) with considerable delight.

It was probably just because the Williams had been so dominant that year. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have cheered for the Marlboro McLarens (to be fair, I learned to hate them for real in 1988, once Senna was there).

The February 1987 issue of Road & Track might not have contained too much that was truly memorable. Even the vehicular adventure columns, normally a highlight in any issue, were a bit weak (an Innes Ireland tour of the American West of all things and a bikes vs. Cars reflection in the Alps).

But it’s the one that has the coverage of the 1986 Australian GP, one of the most memorable races in history. As such, it’s an important issue which I’d been looking forward to for a while.

The cover car never materialized (so maybe the reader feedback was “don’t build it!”) and the Volkswagen Fox tested in the issue was definitely not the next coming of the Beetle.

There was, however, a wonderful Salon about a Cooper F2. And this Innes Ireland article was wonderful. Perhaps the most significant road car article was the one about the then-experimental Porsche double-clutch gearbox, the precursor of all the paddle shifters and semiautomatics we have today.

So it was a readable issue with some significant stuff, but the true highlight was that one race article. A momentous moment, if you will.

Gustavo Bondoni is a novelist and short story writer whose latest novel is The Malakiad, a humorous romp about ancient Greek heroes and mummified penguins. Well, sort of. It’s kind of hard to describe… you might be best served to buy a copy here and see for yourself.

A Massive Tome of Hard Hitting Action

After my introduction to Larry Correia’s work a few months ago, I was expecting the massive (1200 pages) tome that is Invisible Wars to be both fun and violent. I was right.

Man, was I ever right.

Based on a concept by Mike Kupari, the Dead Six series, which includes three novels and three novellas, is collected in this book and might just win the prize as the books I’ve read with most people killed by individual gunfire.

Now this is actually harder to achieve than you might think. I read a lot of extremely violent fiction. But never had I witnessed a book in which it seems every scene has a gunshot wound in it. These guys appear to be the Quentin Tarantino of the literary world.

And, like Tarantino, they don’t use the violence for shock value. It appears to be a way to keep things real while the slightly surreal and utterly entertaining adventures of the characters – who are also well-developed – takes place.

This Omnibus holds three novels. I found the first (Dead Six) to be a classic compelling page-turner. The second was the weakest of the three in my opinion, because the book takes its time to build into a violent free-for-all… but the payback is the best final battle of all. The Third returns to the winning formula of the first, with the action spread more evenly over the entire book.

As a change-of-pace book, this is perfect. Sometimes, you want to leave the literary experimentation and deep thoughts aside and just kick some bad-guy’s ass. This book fills that need beautifully.

Highly recommended for anyone who enjoys a nice violent action book.

Gustavo Bondoni’s latest book is a funny fantasy novel entitled The Malakiad. It takes place in classic-era Greece, and includes everything you never knew you wanted in a book: pink sea serpents, soup-breathing ambassadors, the God of Political Correctness, and a mummified penguin. You can check it out here.

The Continuing Adventures of Dracula’s Daughter

Long-time readers know that I’ve been reading Cynthia Ward’s series of stories that use classic science fiction, crime and horror characters in an alternate-world setting. The next book is entitled The Adventure of the Naked Guide, and it continues the tradition of giving us fun in a universe where you need to pay a lot of attention or you’ll miss a cool literary allusion.

This volume follows the template set in the first two books – straight up steampunk action-adventure. In this one, though, we get the added bonus of exploring the center of the Hollow Earth which, in my mind combines a bit of Verne and Burroughs with a dash of Challenger’s Lost World.

Am I 100% sure of those literary references?

Not in the least, mainly because Cynthia Ward’s knowledge of those literary forbears dwarfs my own. Nevertheless, I have been enjoying myself enormously spotting the ones I can pin down. Even if I miss a few, the exercise adds to the pleasure of reading. Imagine my delight when when Carmilla made an appearance earlier in the series – and better still, since Carmilla was lesbian in the original, an accurate Carmilla. I love finding a fellow Le Fanu apologists in the sea of Stoker supporters.

I would hate for anyone to think that these books are for literary snobs. They are that best of both worlds: fun adventure tales that also contain nuggets for literary snobs. Think of them as comic-book Easter eggs for readers of old imaginative fiction.

These books read as if Ward enjoyed playing, respectfully, with other authors creations to build a world and characters that are uniquely her own. And that joy comes through even though the action can be dark and serious.

I, for one, am enjoying the ride.

A Sweet Little Film Where Character Actors Get a Shot at the Lead

I’ve seen Ernest Borgnine act in a number of places, most recently in Bad Day at Black Rock. He is best cast as either a tough guy or a comic actor. It takes a really unusual script for him to take the romantic lead.

Which is fine, because, as a romantic lead, he had a great face for radio. The same can be said for his co-star in this one, Betsy Blair.

Which, of course, is exactly the point.

Off the top of my head, this is the first movie on the 1001 films list which specifically puts a positive spin main characters who are unattractive in the traditional sense since The Phantom of the Opera. But in this one, instead of a tortured man obsessed with a classical beauty, they’re both played as ugly people looking for love.

It’s surprising that Hollywood has paid so little attention to this trope since there are a lot of ugly people out there, and they should really be able to relate to this one.

The novelty of the concept was reflected in how many Oscar nominations a simple little film like this one managed to garner. This is a bread-and-butter film, not the typical Hollywood award-earner. Heck, it’s not even the typical 1001 list film. It’s utterly straightforward and what you see is what you get.

So why did it do so well? Because it’s a heartwarmer, kind of like It’s a Wonderful Life, but less convoluted. This one doesn’t need complex framing devices. It’s a low-key version of “boy gets girl, boy loses girl, boy regains girl”. But it’s a lot less dramatic than that.

I know. This review makes it sound both dull and visually unappealing. That might be an accurate description… but this film works. At no point do you ever question the need to keep watching. It’s good enough to hold your interest, and the emotions are there.

It’s not an earth-shaking film. It won’t change your life. But it’s eminently watchable, and if you are the kind of person who hates Hollywood beauties of both sexes always getting their happy ending (or dying gloriously), then this one might just be worth an hour and a half or your time.

Gustavo Bondoni’s latest science fiction novel is called Splinter. It explores the blurred line between man and machine… and the ebook has just been released for Kindle. You can check it out here.

Top Speed Shootout

Today, of course, it’s absolutely normal for street cars to go faster than race cars in a straight line. Street cars, after all, aren’t constricted by silly rules created to keep racers slow, and technology has advanced to the point that you can hit 200 mph in a four door sedan (albeit an expensive one). I’ve seen cases of cars heavily detuned to go GT racing (and you wonder why no one but the rich playboys who race in GT cares about the racing there…).

Of course, race cars aren’t designed to go straight, they are designed to go around closed circuits. And in this, they are still faster than their street counterparts.

But back in 1987, race cars were still faster than street cars, so taking a couple of the fastest, from different series and different design philosophies over to a big oval (the TRC test site in Ohio) for top speed kicks, it was an eye-opener with speeds 40 MPH faster than the vaunted supercars of the day.

The NASCAR stocker won, which wasn’t necessarily a surprise, as it is a car optimized for running flat out at Talladaga, but the article did prove that like today’s race versus street comparison, you can’t really compare different kinds of race car. The Porsche in the picture was neither geared nor fitted with the right bodywork for something like this, but it would likely smoke the stocker at Le Mans (which it ALSO wasn’t geared or fitted with the right bodywork for). Horses for courses.

Whichever your favorite, I really would like to see a little loosening of the rules in race circles, so today’s much safer race cars can match the top-end performance of the cars of thirty-five years ago. And blow street cars into the weeds.

While this issue was memorable for the cover story, there were other good things elsewhere, particularly a reminiscence / review of the 1950s / 60s fashion for audio records of race sounds: engine noise, pit stops, etc. Also amazing was a period piece about driving in Romania in Winter, circa 1986. It’s a reminder of what the world was like under communism that most people in Eastern Europe would not want to be reminded of.

Finally, there’s a couple of GP writeups. Remember, this was 1986, the year that ended with Mansell’s blowout in Australia. How the Williams team managed to lose this championship is beyond me. Hell, I already know how it ended and I’m still thinking that in the reading they’ll prove my memory wrong.

Gustavo Bondoni is a novelist and short story writer. His latest book is a humorous fantasy novel set in ancient Greece. If you enjoy reading about quests and heroes or simply like to laugh, you could do worse than this one. Here’s the Amazon link.

The Unstoppable Power of Little Old Ladies

It’s 2022, and we all know what happens if a gang of criminals opposes a little old lady in a film (or a kid left home alone). They die, or are arrested, usually after being put through the wringer.

In 1955, the trope probably wasn’t as well developed as it is today, so maybe the audiences watching The Ladykillers might have felt some trepidation regarding said little old lady’s fate. (I hear there’s a 2004 film with the same title… I hope it’s not a remake, this isn’t a film that would entertain modern audiences in the same manner as newer takes).

Fortunately, a modern viewer knows from the very first that the clueless and innocent ancient is going to be perfectly all right, so we watch the chaos she unwittingly unleashes on everyone she comes into contact with without any angst. And The Ladykillers, especially the second half, is a funny film, managing to contrast the wholesome certainty that the old lady is safe with the darkest humor around what befalls the gang members.

This is one that everyone can enjoy. You don’t need to be a fan of any particular genre to get it, and the acting is impeccable. Not only is an unexpected Peter Sellers involved, but Obi Wan Kenobi robs another bank (not a bank this time, but let’s not split hairs), which probably explains why he had to go all the way to Tatooine to hide out from the law.

Also, I’m glad I live now and not in mid-20th-century. When you consider Tweety’s owner and this woman, you come to understand that little old ladies were a public menace…

Anyway, this is a good one.

Gustavo Bondoni’s latest novel doesn’t include any highly-destructive little old ladies, but it does contain a pink sea-serpent, so we’ll call it a tie. You can check out The Malakiad here.

The Perils of Arriving at a Series in the Middle… Again

It’s not a new problem. Sometimes, the only book available is not the first book in the series, but you read it all the same because SF with wars in it is always cool to read. So I get to meet Caine Riordan in Marque of Caine.

Fortunately for me, unlike the other authors whose mid-series books I’ve been reading lately, Charles Gannon seems to have foreseen that this could happen, and his first chapters allow you to get a grip on what’s happening without throwing you in at the deep end. He ignores the silly conventional wisdom and uses infodumps where they help the reader out. That is much appreciated.

In fact, he does it well enough that, if you didn’t already know better, you’d only realize that this is part of something larger in the second scene, when other characters begin to act in ways that only earlier books can really explain.

As I’ve said, the author is excellent at keeping you up to speed, but you also need to understand that most readers who’ve gotten this far will be more invested than you in the characters and their fates. The extra effort is on you.

This one gets really, really good for new readers about halfway through, when it becomes evident that the resolution to the problem at hand is much more complex than originally imagined–that it will require an out-of-the-box solution to the thriller that is taking form.

Unfortunately, you then get a cliffhanger ending with most (albeit not all) of the issues still in the air.

This isn’t the writer’s fault. Series readers expect that. In fact they delight in it.

But I was nonplussed. I had been drawn into the action and I wanted resolution. Which is probably the point… I may need to read the next book.

I’d say that this is a good book in what looks like a great series. It’s not the right place to dip your toe into the world unless you’re planning on reading at least the next one. But from this sample, the series is worth it. Watch this space, as I may be coming back to talk about further installments!

Gustavo Bondoni’s latest book is a humorous fantasy adventure set in Heroic-era Greece. You can check out The Malakiad here.

A Propaganda Film with Absolutely Everything

When I think of propaganda films, my mind immediately lands on Leni Reifenstahl’s chilling and impactful Triumph des Willens, or maybe the narrative-based Battleship Potemkin.

Those two films are memorable because they are extremely single-minded. They focus on a single theme over and over again, coming at it from different angles. They display the monomania of the true believer, an adolescent version of the revolutionary sensibility. Come to think of it, most revolutionaries, from Lenin to today’s meme-driven armchair freedom fighters, tend to over-simplify a complex world and focus on a single aspect without worrying about the inevitable domino effects. Also, there is black and white… grey isn’t welcome.

And, while you can definitely accuse Hill 24 Doesn’t Answer of showing a clear black and white version of a more complex universe, you can’t say it’s monomaniacal on the philosophical side. This one shows Israel’s fight for survival from absolutely every side the filmmakers could think of.

The framing device is that four soldiers–three men and a woman–on the Israeli side die in a bomb attack on a hill in the desert. So you get the human cost of the war immediately.

Then the film gives you their personal stories, the life and the loves. More importantly, it tells you why each of them volunteered to fight.

The brilliance of that approach is that each soldier’s reason for being there is different, and presents the justice of the Israeli cause from different points of view. It’s a very smart propaganda film in that respect.

And the final scene (which I won’t spoil for you), is a spine-stiffening inspiration to anyone still on the front lines of the conflict.

Better still, this one is a good war film. Its action sequences are interesting and well-done without being over the top. It’s a film you don’t sit through for edification, but actually one you enjoy.

On the debit side, this IS a propaganda film about a conflict whose ramifications are still felt today, and which refers to problems that haven’t been solved yet. It looks at one side of a conflict, and as such, intentionally avoids certain questions. Viewers will have questions. Those questions won’t be answered.

Having said that, this one is a very good film, both from the historical point of view as for its entertainment value. Recommended – and available on YouTube here.

Gustavo Bondoni is a novelist and short story writer whose latest book is anti-Greek-Hero propaganda of the basest sort. We’re almost completely certain that Kopulus didn’t do what he was accused of with Homer’s wife, and that isn’t why he was written out of the official histories. But if you want to decide for yourself, you can buy The Malakiad on Amazon.