One of "The Wire" writer George Pelecanos's earlier efforts, this doesn't quite demonstrate the stripped down dialogue that he developed later in his career. It does, however, have pace, and a narrative thrust that makes you want to consume the whole, slim, book in one sitting. Like a latter-day pulp writer (think Horace McCoy, James M Cain or, most especially, Jim Thompson) Pelecanos's hero's fate is entirely out of his habds once he makes a single choice (an this case, giving away his last cigarette to a man who gives him a lift). The hero is a drifter, amoral, emotionally disconnected, trapped by the circumstances of his earlier life. He hitch-hikes his way into the middle of a criminal endeavour where almost everyone's intentions are quite what they seem, and discovers his own moral centre and sense of purpose in a climax that is both bloody and Thompson-esquely bleak. What a wonderful movie this could make.
Labels: Jim Thompson, Pelecanos, The Wire, thriller
