I’ve been avoiding making a public announcement about this, because I was hoping that some kind of miracle would happen and I would find a way to write 25K a day and finish my last Fringe novel ahead of schedule. Alas, that isn’t going to happen.

So, I’m sorry to say, I will not be blogging the Los Angeles Film Noir Festival this year. For the ( Read more... )

This is it. End of the line. The very last Noir City post of 2012. The final show was a Marsha Hunt double bill, starting with Mary Ryan, Detective.


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Another year, another Noir City in the can. For the final quadruple feature, I’m splitting my write up into two halves, so that we can make it last. Here’s the first half. Starting with Circumstantial Evidence.


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Unfortunately, I was not able to make yesterday’s matinee with Denise Hamilton, but I was there for the night’s Geraldine Fitzgerald double feature. First the wonderful Three Strangers.


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This is the kind of write up that tortures me (and you, too I’m sure) because I absolutely loved City Streets and it’s not available on DVD. Like Crashout, this is a film that more people need to see, but probably never will. I wish I could recommend it, but I’ll have to settle for telling you all about what you missed. Meanwhile, watch the TCM ( Read more... )

Before I get on to last night’s films, I need to mention something I forgot to include in yesterday’s write up. There’s a foot fetish scene in Private Hell 36! I only remembered it because there’s also a not-nearly-as-visually-appealing foot fetish scene in Okay America, which features Edward Arnold instead of Ida Lupino ( Read more... )

I think last night was my favorite so far. It was billed as a “crooked cop” double feature. Which it is, but I liked my friend Richard Heft’s description better: a “festival of booze-sweaty foreheads.” Which it also is.

First up, the sweaty Edmond O’Brian in Shield for Murder:


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A “Johnny on the Spot” double feature, one good and one not so good.

First, O’Clock.


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A New York Waterfront double bill, one more New York than the other.

First, Slaughter on Tenth Avenue.


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Before I get to the full write ups, I have to share a deeply traumatic experience from last night.

Witness: Hipster Charles McGraw!


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