Movie Shelf: Richard Stark's Parker, Page 3

MOVIE SHELF: COMPARING FILMS TO THEIR LITERARY COUNTERPARTS

Adaptations of Richard Stark's Parker books, PAGE 3

christopher funderburg (cont'd)

It should be mentioned that, if not the worst, then the least "Parker-esque" performance comes via Peter Coyote in the wondrously moronic Slayground (1983). The film is a cheesy horror movie with a logic-defyingly tenuous connection to the book on which it's based. The producers seem to have read the title Slayground, heard it was about a ruthless criminal picking off people one by one at an abandoned amusement park, waved their hands and said "Got it - killer, amusement park, Slayground, it's a slasher picture." Peter Coyote's Parker surrogate Stone spends the entire second half of the film tooling around England begging his friends to help him because he's in too deep after a heist gone wrong and generally acting like a wimpy worrywart. Once he finally gets to the fireworks factory, the titular playground fit for slaying, he's pursued by a creepy/cheesy, seemingly supernatural contract killer who has a Jason Voohees-esque set of attributes that include the ability to be everywhere at once and notable ugliness. I know fans hate Made in U.S.A. with the burning hot passion of a thousand suns, but Slayground is easily the most shamefully pointless desecration of the character. It casts Peter Coyote as Parker, for Christ's sake. (You know - the former Zen buddist from Patch Adams?)

So that book's ripe for a reimagining; in fact, the interlaced trilogy that caps the original run - Slayground, Plunder Squad and Butcher's Moon - would make for a great mini-series if you could figure out a way to deal with having Parker run around an amusement park for a couple episodes and balance the narrative concentration of Slayground against the victory-lap sprawl of Butcher's Moon. But yeah, The Seventh is the one I want to see made correctly. Its college football stadium heist would probably have to be updated for the modern day, but it has the most compelling narrative tension as it pits Parker against his squad of thieves after he loses their heist money. The shifting alliances and panic amongst professionals makes it a genuine, bona fide page-turner and the final shootout at a construction site behind a seedy motel is genuinely awesome.

To me, The Seventh is the most compelling book in the series, but I wonder how much of its power is drawn from its context in the larger series - its existential question seems to be, "Is Parker as much of a flawless badass as he is perceived as being?" That's a question that gets a good part of its heft from seeing him in action in the rest of the series. It's tough to say which is the best book in the series (especially when you factor in likable orphans that don't get much love from the fans like The Mourner and The Jugger), but The Seventh has the most complex story, the plot that draws your emotions in the most directions - and I haven't even mentioned the musclebound creep that sets the plot in motion by offing Parker's ladyfriend and stealing the money while he's out buying cigarettes. Shit, I'd want to put a bullet in Parker just like Negli, one of Parker's crew who quite rightfully blames him for screwing up their score.

I think Lee Marvin actually would have been perfect for Negli. Parker's botched handling of their stash ultimately gets Negli's longtime partner killed and at a certain point Negli forgets about the money and just goes after revenge. The book split my sympathies between Parker and Negli; Negli's raw and righteous fury had a gravity to it that Parker's cold "professionalism" couldn't match. Ultimately, Parker's dedication to practicality does make more sense in a professional context (of course it does), but Negli's thirst for blood has far more emotional resonance. As a character with real grievances against Parker, Negli's vendetta is one of the few times that Parker isn't merely contending with a psychopath (as in The Score, The Sour Lemon Score, Plunder Squad) or a turncoat (The Hunter, The Man With the Getaway Face, Comeback) or incompetent amateur meddlers (earlier in The Seventh, The Rare Coin Score, The Green Eagle Score, Comeback, Nobody Runs Forever) or a large criminal institution that sees him as violating their "rules" (The Outfit, Slayground, Butcher's Moon).

To answer your final question, I can't believe you'd suggest that Joe Don Baker didn't already make for a perfect Handy McKay! Baker is the one actor cast in any Parker-associated role who seizes the part in my imagination when I read the books. I don't picture Robert Duvall when I read The Outfit or Lee Marvin when I read The Hunter, but I absolutely see Joe Don Baker in my mind's eye when I read the words "Handy McKay." As for which character I really want to see on screen, I've always loved the grotesque hippies of Deadly Edge and wonder what kind of duo the bigwigs in Hollywood could come up with for them. They're just such nasty characters: unpredictable, violent, stupid rapists whose unpredictable violence and stupidity are so massive that they become almost insurmountable. And unlike a lot of Parker characters, they don't have to be played by prototypical tough-guy heavies. Maybe I could finally get my dream casting: 1994 Funny Games' Arno Frisch teamed up with 2004 Funny Games' Brady Corbett - make them both a little shaggy and then have them actually drop acid before the cameras roll.

I also would be curious what good casting could do for Alan Grofield or Claire - if you put a likable, pompous but believably venomous actor like Alec Baldwin in the Grofield role, how much would the character improve? Same for Claire - the weedy little thing they cast in Parker doesn't get the job done, but an actress who holds herself like an equal might help fans get over any stereotypical Claire-aversion. It's funny - she doesn't play Claire in the film, but Diahann Carroll and Jim Brown ain't a bad idea at all for Claire and Parker.

One thing I haven't addressed that you brought up is the idea of Parker surrogates - he's definitely an imitated creation and The Driver might edge out The Outfit as the most essential (as in "capturing the essence") of Richard Stark's iconic criminal, the last professional, the hard man with the airtight plan, the terse, unflappable expert who abhors institutions and rules. Are the changes in John Flynn's The Outfit like the intro with Macklin being released from prison enough to make it as much of an imitation as, say, James Caan in Thief or really any of the cool efficient professional criminals in the work of Michael Mann? I mean, Amy Brenneman makes for an almost hilariously perfect Claire proxy to Robert DeNiro's Parker-esque bank robber in Heat. More than a character I'd like to see on screen, I'd like to see certain directors take on the novels - doesn't the idea of Michael Mann doing one of the more heist-centric books like The Handle sound absolutely delightful to you? And let me maybe go a little wrong-headed here, but wouldn't you be psyched for James Wan to do one of the creepier ones like Deadly Edge? I really like his take on Death Sentence and, in particular, his relationship to the source Death Wish sequel novel - wouldn't you be intrigued to see what he does with Parker? I think he's got the correct sense of how to mix gravity and pulp ridiculousness and anyone who dismisses him because of the SAW sequels is a goddamned idiot.

John I'll leave the final thoughts and meaningful soul-searching to you - take it on home, my friend. My only regret so far is that I kinda feel like we're not singing the praises of John Flynn and The Outfit loudly enough. That is a fine film from one of the finest purely genre filmmakers of all time. It needs its due - Point Blank and The Outfit are the gold standards. There, I said it.

john cribbs

I completely agree that the casting of Ryan O'Neal - in The Driver, but really in anything - is unfortunate. Walter Hill had originally approached Robert Mitchum, who obviously would have been a much better choice: even if Mitchum was too old and a little too glib to make an ideal Parker stand-in, he starred in so many of the great underrated 70's crime films (The Friends of Eddie Coyle, The Yakuza) that he would have made a believable and intimidating Driver. "Intimidating" is not a word anyone would use to describe O'Neal, although I guess he would fit the "appealing to women" bill (more in a pretty boy movie star sense than the animal magnetism the ladies feel towards Parker). But I was really referring more to Hill's characterization of Driver, who despite some key differences - Driver's West Coast, Parker is decidedly East Coast - sticks closer to Westlake's overall picture of Parker: focus over emotion, action rather than words, a zero tolerance for amateurs, an unbreachable stoicism and self-imposed leanness that's complimented by Hill's no-frills direction.* As Hill once said: "In my films, when somebody puts a gun in your face, character is how many times you blink." That to me easily describes the "essence" of Parker's fundamental unfuckability: it implies reaction to circumstances rather than the dick-swinging posturing that defines many a movie badass who lack that pure Parkerness.

To better explain it: Parker is cool and methodical. When it comes to planning a job, he examines the best options and tries to weed out any liabilities (when he successfully identifies potential problems ahead of time and works them into the plan, like in The Man With the Getaway Face, it's so goddamn satisfying). Sometimes circumstances change and unpredictable factors arise, backing Parker into a corner, and those are always the best parts of the book - seeing how he stands up to unmitigatable scenarios, whether it literally be the way he stares down a gun (which happens more than enough times in the series, and as late as the final book) or how he climbs back up the ladder after being pushed off (see: The Mourner, The Sour Lemon Score). Often that becomes the focus of the novel's third act, following a long stretch where the narrative basically loses Parker (something a movie would never attempt to pull off - can you think of a straight action/crime film that just ignores its central character for a full 20 to 30 minutes of screen time an hour into the film?) and focuses on supporting characters who've plotted against him or want to horn in on his action. By forcing the reader to follow along in their footsteps, Westlake makes the reader appreciate Parker's resolve in the wake of his opponent's desperation and realize that a weak, irrational fool like Mal Resnick or Auguste Menlo, or an unstable psycho like George Uhl, is subject to the kind of emotional flaws that someone as tough as Parker just doesn't allow to factor in. Any asshole can be dangerous with a gun, but Parker's unbreakable grit comes from his firmness in front of one.

Of course, there's more to it than that: as you point out, Parker's not just a tough guy or we wouldn't be giving Lee Marvin such a hard time. While I don't necessarily agree that Marvin's background as an emasculating heavy disqualified him from playing Parker under any circumstance - especially at that time in his career, when his range as an actor had broadened to allow him to start headlining as gruff heroes (The Professionals, The Dirty Dozen, etc.) - his Walker seems so hollowed out that he's barely functional as a living, walking human being. It goes back to the drive that compels Parker to do what he does: Walker's entire existence throughout Point Blank is based on the destruction of anyone even vaguely related to his betrayal, his vengeance brutal, carnal, chaotic and ultimately damaging to everyone he comes in contact with. You're right that Walker is like an unstoppable killing machine, and since his revenge is such a one-sided, single-minded spree of destruction Boorman doesn't bother dealing with how he stands up to people: he may intimidate and confound his opponents, but there's never a sense of how he stands up to their threats - why worry about it when he's already dead?

I think Statham does a descent job maintaining that "no blinking" persona, except of course when he's making doe eyes at Claire and telling her how much he loves her. (Honestly, with the Jennifer Lopez character already written into the story I don't know why the producers felt it necessary to include Claire at all: even dressed down and 15 years out of sight of Out of Sight, J-Lo knocks the unremarkable actress playing Claire off the chart. Also, Parker's never expressed any sort of fidelity towards Claire in the books; you get the impression he'd feel no hesitation or regret walking away from her in 30 seconds flat if he felt the heat around the corner.) While it's mandatory for big Hollywood movies to add a love interest even when the script doesn't necessitate one, better to have them quickly dispatched (The Split) or exit the film feeling used or disgruntled (Point Blank) than have Parker ride off into the sunset with his hooker-with-a-heart-of-gold, promising her he'll straighten up and fly right (Payback) or allow them hang around as an access to the Parker character's sensitive side (Godard managed to skirt - no pun intended - this issue by turning Parker into a woman). In terms of women, the films should follow Parker's example: they come after, not during, the action.

Any sharp-eyed viewer will call me out on this complaint since I unequivocally love John Flynn's The Outfit, which adds a girlfriend character for Parker played by Karen Black. As I already mentioned, Robert Duvall's Maclin has a brother whose death he sets out to avenge (he even wears a black band on his arm at one point), and it's mentioned off-handedly that he has an estranged son - so there's no question he feels a certain level of fidelity towards those close to him. But the movie actually convinces me that it would be beneficial to have a helpful gal onboard for a cross-country heist spree who can pour coffee from a thermos in the backseat between hotel rooms and raids on mob money fronts (I guess Grofield had that in mind when he picked up the receptionist during the Copper Canyon job in The Score). Maclin's not overly sentimental about Black's character: he doesn't seem to care that she's been handing out the samples while he's in prison and, after she's killed, declines to see her body at the funeral home for one last goodbye.** And he has no less trouble with Black than Parker did with the minor character from the book who shares the same name: she's just some tough floozie who witnesses a hitman failing to kill Parker; he considers taking care of her - "not kill her, just unload her" - but before he can she runs off with the gun he used to fatally bludgeon his would-be killer,*** which is later used to blackmail Parker into participating in the heist in The Mourner.

Having a lady friend tag along doesn't hurt The Outfit - which, to placate Chris, I'll just reiterate is fucking great - because John Flynn mainly focuses on the relationship between Maclin and his partner, played by Joe Don Baker. Flynn, who created such a classic unspoken veteran's bond between William Devane and Tommy Lee Jones in Rolling Thunder, loves this kind of fellowship among badasses best exemplified by Maclin and Cody sharing a beer as they discuss their next step in a hotel room. I can't picture Parker wordlessly sharing a beer with anybody, but that's the John Flynn factor that makes The Outfit so great. His other additions to the source material - the auction meet, the church shootout, the roadside attempt on Maclin & Cody ("It's a hit!") and the subplot that gives more focus on Robert Ryan's criminal demimonde - is all complimentary to the great scenes that were taken directly from it.

I guess I forgot that Baker was supposed to be Handy McKay, since his character is named "Jack Cody" in the movie. I wonder if Westlake stipulated that the filmmakers couldn't use the name "Handy McKay" either, since almost every other supporting character's name in The Outfit is the same as the book, even the dog. Speaking of character names, I think Duvall is the only male version of Parker to get a first name - most of the characters, especially the women, call him Earl. He's also the only screen version of Parker who seems interested in sex, although Black kind of spoils the mood by telling him his brother was killed.

Although I also didn't outright hate Parker as most did, it certainly didn't lead me to expect any Outfit-sized masterpieces from future Richard Stark adaptations. I mean, who is the John Flynn of 2013? That kind of under-the-radar expert journeyman director just doesn't exist anymore; we'll never get to see a young Walter Hill's official take on Parker, or the Brian Garfield-penned adapation of Butcher's Moon starring Charles Bronson. Whoever ends up helming the next one, I'm sure we can dread some unwelcome hot Hollywood property like Gerard Butler or Sam Worthington to be announced as the new Parker. Maybe it would be better if they hung it up and just continued to have talented filmmakers create characters who are reflections of Parker, like Thief and The Limey (although Terence Stamp's Wilson is a direct descendent of Point Blank rather than The Hunter or any other Westlake novel).

Your idea of James Wan doing a Parker adaptation is pretty good (just no Patrick Wilson as Parker, please). He'll be working with Statham on the new Fast & Furious movie, maybe they can put their heads together and figure out how to make a more satisfying sequel to Parker? I guess Statham already blew the chance to convince Michael Mann to adapt one of the books during his little walk-on in Collateral. And while we're name-dropping Fast & Furious, why not give Justin Lin a Parker movie and see what he could do with it? (Just no Vin Diesel as Parker; Sung Kang could play Salsa, just change the character name to Wasabi or something. I guess it would have to be "Gochujang," since Kang is Korean.) Jonathan Hensleigh's not a bad choice, I liked Kill the Irishman. Scott Frank wrote Out of Sight and did a decent job directing The Lookout, he might be good. I'd even be open to a more eccentric filmmaker who's dabbled in crime movies like Rian Johnson, or see what would come of a Parker book in the hands of mildly competent/clearly smart if not exactly great directors like Christopher McQuarrie or Tony Gilroy (both screenwriter-turned-directors, like Helgeland). Long as the duties don't fall to some generic genre director like Doug Liman, Phillip Noyce, Anton Fuqua, Dominic Sena, Simon West, Joe Carnahan, James Mangold, James McTeigue or - god forbid - an arty crime movie ruiner like Paul Haggis, Andrew Dominik or Michael Winterbottom (with our luck it'll probably be Mark Steven Johnson, or that talentless asshole who made the last Die Hard movie).

I genuinely believe another great Parker film could be made, if the director follows Parker's own modus operandi: make it worthwhile, low-risk, and avoid bloodshed if possible.

* My appreciation of Hill's lack of flare has a lot to do with why I can't get into Nicolas Refn's glammed-up Drive. I also want to mention that I always thought John Woo did an injustice to Walter Hill by claiming The Killer was inspired by Le Samourai without mentioning The Driver. Clearly, Danny Lee's obsessed cop/foil is based on Bruce Dern's detective rather than any character from Melville's movie. I would say Killer is Le Samourai filtered through The Driver...with about 10,000 more bullets.

** Females characters don't fare too well in John Flynn movies: John Phillip Law's girlfriend gets scared off by scary Rod Steiger in The Sergeant, Linda Haynes gets left behind by William Devane in Rolling Thunder, Karen Black, Devane's wife and Bobby Lupo's girlfriend in Out for Justice are all killed by bad guys. Even poor Gina Gershon gets strong-armed by Seagal.

*** Badass line used by both Parker in the book and Maclin in the movie after beating the unsuccessful hitman: "Go die someplace else."

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