Movies Since Last Time

It’s been a while since I passed judgment on any movies. I was busy and didn’t see many for a bit, then saw several during a time I already had more blog posts than I needed. Not that anyone cares. I didn’t even care, but I felt some introduction was needed. This was it.

Fed Up (2014). A (mostly) well done documentary of the insidious effects of sugar on Americans’ diets and politics. Hard to say which is more disturbing: the secret addition of sugar to virtually all processed foods, the misleading labeling, or the industry’s ability to pay Congress to gut any regulations or policies that might cost it money? (Actually, the worst isn’t mentioned in the film: how much of the money they pay Congress with came from us in the form of sugar and corn subsidies.) As with most documentaries, it works best when presenting its evidence matter-of-factly. Afterward I couldn’t say whether I was more angry at the shameful politics, or depressed over the knowledge of why my best efforts to lost weight have failed. On the down side, choosing three overweight teens as anecdotal examples—which seems to be de rigueur for news and politicians alike—forces one to wonder how representative these examples are. Still, far more reasonable—and, therefore, affecting—than anything by Michael Moore.

Jerry and Tom (1998). Interesting film, great fun in spots, clever idea, great cast, and good lines for them to speak. Still, not quite all there. Joe Mantegna plays a hit man whose straight job is working at a sleazy used car lot, where he’s breaking in Sam Rockwell as the new guy in both areas. Maury Chaykin owns the car lot, and Charles Durning is the senior sales/hit man. Victims include Ted Danson and Wiliam H. Macy. I thought I’d like it more, but the primary conceit—a comedy about hit men and their work—didn’t hold up for me, as the movie found it too hard to catch all the right tones. Maybe I’m getting old. Or growing up. Damn, I hope not.

The Skeleton Twins (2013). Saturday Night Live alumni Kristin Wiig and Bill Hader in as depressing a movie as one is likely to sit through. Wiig and Hader play estranged twins who try to reconcile after he attempts suicide. While they have their moments, neither has enough likeable qualities for the viewer to care whether they live or die. By the end, when Wiig weights herself down and jumps into the deep end of a swimming pool, Hader miraculously knows not only that she’s attempting suicide, but exactly where she is. (Twintuition, I guess.) By that time I was hoping she’d drag him down with her. (Yep, that’s a spoiler. I did you a favor.) The only character worth caring about is Wiig’s husband (Owen Wilson), who is given short shrift and shuffled off when they don’t need him anymore.

Fargo (1996). An unequivocal thumbs-up, which was why I watched it. If not the Coen Brothers’ best, it’s in the top three, with Miller’s Crossing and Blood Simple. Often misunderstood—it is not a comedy, except in the blackest sense of the word—the accents aren’t meant to portray the locals as rubes, but as a community, which, with the exception of Jerry Lundegaard, has pretty much figured out how life works, for both good and bad, and has to find a way to deal with events so far removed from anything they could have expected. A classic.

Night Moves (1975). Gene Hackman plays Harry Moseby, a retired pro football player working none too successfully as a PI. Hired by an aging never-was to find her missing daughter (the 16-year-old has been missing two weeks before she bothers to call anyone, and no one thinks anything of that), Moseby juggles a case that flits from LA to New Mexico to the Florida Keys in a plot that only Harry seems to have to fly commercial for; everyone else just appears wherever they’re needed. Hackman is joined by a solid supporting cast: a very young James Woods, Jennifer Warren, Ed Binns, and a too-brief appearance by Kenneth Mars. Too bad the plot doesn’t hold up, and so much of the dialog is the “adults acting out as though confused children” bullshit that became popular in the 70s.

Sabotage (2014). Lots to like about this one, but it doesn’t quite hold together under anything like close inspection. I won’t say what, as they’re potential spoilers and the movie is definitely not a waste of time if you’re into action flicks. Arnold Schwarzenegger is more subtle than usual, and, hey, he’s Arnold, so you kind of have to like him. The character is a departure for him, and he pulls it off relatively well as the leader of an elite team of undercover DEA agents who tried, just once, to rip off a DTO (“Drug Trafficking Organization; we don’t call them cartels anymore”). The heist goes bad, the team is suspended for six months, then they start turning up dead in grisly fashion about the time they get back together. The plot is twisty enough to be fun, but holes were left where logic would become inconvenient.

Chicago (2002). Another classic, pretty close to perfect entertainment on multiple levels. On the surface, one of the great song-and-dance movies ever made, with a great score by John Kander and brilliant lyrics by Fred Ebb. Pay even a little attention and it’s a scathing satire of American media and justice that hasn’t changed much since the 1920s. Who knew Renee Zellweger, Catherine Zeta-Jones, and Richard Gere (who steals every scene) could sing and dance? (Okay, CZJ has won a Tony since, but who knew it then?)

Tim O'Mara, Author of the Raymond Donne Mysteries

If you’re lucky, you know someone who is passionate about whatever it is they’re doing, even if it’s just the conversation you’re having at the time. Tim O'Mara is one of those people. He’s taught math and special education in the New York City public schools since 1987. His top-selling debut mystery Sacrifice Fly (Minotaur 2012) was nominated for the 2013 “Best First Novel” Barry Award, and his second in the Raymond Donne series, Crooked Numbers (Minotaur 2013), solidified his place among today’s most talented new crime fiction writers. His third mystery about the Brooklyn public schoolteacher who used to be a cop, Dead Red, hits the shelves tomorrow.

In addition to his teaching and writing, Tim has hosted and produced a bi-weekly reading series of poetry and prose in New York’s East Village for the past thirteen years. He received his Bachelors in Communication and Media in 1985 from State University of New York – New Paltz and his Masters in Special Education from Long Island University – Brooklyn in 1992.

O’Mara lives with his family in Manhattan’s Hell’s Kitchen and is a proud member of Mystery Writers of America and several teacher unions.

One Bite at a Time: Tell us about Dead Red.

Tim O’Mara: Dead Red is the third Raymond Donne, but the first where you see him during summer vacation, away from his school teaching job. He gets involved with Jack Knight, an ex-cop who’s now a PI, when a mutual friend of theirs is shot and killed in front of Raymond. Ray actually gets to play full-time PI in this one.

OBAAT: Where did you get this idea, and what made it worth developing for you? (Notice I didn’t ask “Where do you get your ideas?” I was careful to ask where you got this idea.)

TO: The murder victim is a recently returned Marine Reservist who served in the Middle East. I was interested in the difficulty many of our returning vets have assimilating back into civilian culture. I’m also interested in New York City politics and the people who are so good playing that game.

OBAAT: How long did it take to write Dead Red, start to finish?

TO: From first draft to final rewrite it took a little over a year. Deadlines from publishers can be wonderful things.

OBAAT: Where did Raymond Donne come from? In what ways is he like, and unlike, you?

TO: Raymond is a combination of me—a NYC schoolteacher—and my brother, Sgt. Mike O’Mara of the Nassau County Police Department. I like to say that whenever you see Raymond being kind and insightful, that’s me. When he’s being tough and investigative, that’s my brother.

OBAAT: In what time and place is Dead Red set? How important is the setting to the book as a whole?

TO: Dead Red is set in modern day Williamsburg, Brooklyn. Williamsburg is key to the plot, as it is to all three of my Raymond Donne novels. Williamsburg is part bohemian artist haven, part new families who want to stay in New York City and can’t afford Manhattan, and part low-income folks who struggle day to day to feed their families.

OBAAT: How did Dead Red come to be published?

TO: St. Martin’s/Minotaur gave me a two-book deal for my first two Raymond Donne novels. Four weeks to the day after my second novel, Crooked Numbers, came out, I got an offer for a third book. I guess they liked the numbers. (Pun shamelessly intended.)

OBAAT: You have an affinity for using names of old Yankees in your books. (Dead Red has a cop named Roy White and Raymond uses the alias of Chad Curtis.) As a life-long Pirates fan, when can we expect to see Art Ditmar?

TO: Not Art Ditmar, but I’ll meet you halfway and put in Bill Virdon. He was traded by the Yankees to Pittsburgh in the mid-fifties and was a Pirate for about a dozen years. He later went on to manage the Yankees for a season and a half in the mid-seventies. Thanks for the idea, Dana. (Editor’s Note: Art Ditmar was a major league pitcher who went 47 – 32 for the Yankees 1957 – 1961. Unfortunately—for him—he is best known for serving up the pitch Bill Mazeroski hit over the left field wall at Forbes Field to win the 1960 World Series, still the only walk-off, seventh-game home run in World Series history.)

OBAAT: What kinds of stories do you like to read? Who are your favorite authors, in or out of that area?

TO: I’m a crime novel fan. My faves include George Pelecanos, Dennis Lehane, Marcus Sakey, Don Winslow. Outside the genre I like Tom Perotta a lot, and Megan Abbott, who defies genre.

OBAAT: Who are your greatest influences? (Not necessarily writers. Filmmakers, other artists, whoever you think has had a major impact on your writing.)

TO: I can’t get through a first draft without thinking if Alfred Hitchcock would approve. Whenever I create a character, I ask myself, is this person interesting enough to be in this situation and does he or she add to the narrative structure? When a reader is done with the book, are they going to think that was worth the money and time spent? That’s Hitchcock. Not only was he a great storyteller, he also felt a strong obligation to his audience.

OBAAT: Do you outline or fly by the seat of you pants? Do you even wear pants when you write?

TO: I’m a “pantser.” That being said, when I write an early scene, I often have the next, or subsequent, scene in mind. With Dead Red, I didn’t know whodunit until word 80,000—out of 100,000. Then I had to go back and make sure—as my editor Matt Martz would say—I earned it and didn’t cheat. When I write, I’m strictly a “clothing optional” kind of guy.

OBAAT: Give us an idea of your process. Do you edit as you go? Throw anything into a first draft knowing the hard work is in the revisions? Something in between?

TO: I edit as I write. I keep a notebook of scenes I have, scenes I need, snippets of dialogue, etc. When I hand in a “first draft,” it’s gone through many rewrites.

OBAAT: If you could give a novice writer a single piece of advice, what would it be?

TO: Keep writing and make sure you enjoy the process. Finish what you’re working on before “putting it out there.” Understand that what you think is a completed novel probably isn’t, but you need to get to the point where you’ve done all you can do for now and are ready to trust it to someone else.

OBAAT: Generally speaking, the components of a novel are story/plot, character, setting, narrative, and tone. How would you rank these in order of their importance in your own writing, and can you add a few sentences to tell us more about how you approach each and why you rank them as you do?

TO: First and foremost is character. The Greeks took all the plots and Shakespeare stole from them. What separates my Raymond Donne novels from all the others out there is Raymond. No one’s ever done an ex-cop turned public schoolteacher before (as far as I know). Then there’s voice. If someone else could have written my novels, then I haven’t done a good enough job getting my voice through. For me, setting my Raymond novels in Williamsburg is very important. There are so many interesting people and places within Williamsburg; it’s really a microcosm of New York City. Plot is crucial, but only in the sense that you’re taking the reader on a trip. You can’t cheat them or take the easy way out. A good reader will sense that and may not want to finish that trip—or return for another.

OBAAT: If you could have written any book of the past hundred years, what would it be, and what is it about that book you admire most?

TO: Wow, great question. Probably Dennis Lehane’s Mystic River. Not only is it a great mystery, it’s filled with characters who do bad things and you still root for them. Lehane has great respect for all the characters in that book and it shows in the writing. I don’t think there’s a stereotypical character in the entire novel.

OBAAT: Favorite activity when you’re not reading or writing.

TO: Anything outside. I live in Manhattan near Central Park and the Hudson River, and love to walk. Not only is it great exercise, it makes it nearly impossible to come down with “writer’s block.” There are so many interesting people and places in the city; each walk ends with an observation that can be put down on paper. When in Missouri—my home away from NYC—my favorite things to do are kayaking, biking, and hiking. As much as I Iove living in NYC, I need my nature fix.

OBAAT: Is there any news you’d like to share with our readers today? Anything about the series, or your books that might not be common knowledge?

TO: I’d love to share some news with your readers, but it hasn’t happened yet. To paraphrase a good friend of mine, if I ever hear I have six months to live, I want to be told by someone in TV or publishing.

OBAAT: What are you working on now?

TO: I’ve just started my fourth Raymond Donne novel, Nasty Cutter, and am developing a unit on ratios and percents for my sixth grade math class.

Many thanks to Tim O’Mara for making time to answer questions here today. Dead Red launches tomorrow (January 20).

Dead Red by Tim O'Mara

Want to start a book with a bang? Blow the head off the man sitting a foot from the protagonist in the first sentence. The reader doesn’t know why they’re there, where they are, or how badly the star is hurt. (One can assume he’s not dead, as the book is written in the first person, and it’s not Sunset Boulevard.)

So begins Tim O’Mara’s third Raymond Donne mystery, Dead Red. Donne is a

schoolteacher in the Williamsburg section of Brooklyn with a gift for finding

himself in bad situations. Normally amateur sleuths drive me up the wall, but Donne isn’t really an amateur: he’s a retired cop who had to leave the force early after a fall ruined his knees. He’s not all that highly thought of by most of the cops still on the job because he’s damaged goods in their eyes, but he does have a little juice: his uncle and namesake is chief of police. Uncle Ray doesn’t like his nephew fooling around in police business. He doesn’t want him dead, either. So Ray gets slack you or I would not. Not too much—O’Mara has more respect for his readers’ intelligence than to resort to such lazy writing—enough to get by.

It’s Ricky Torres who dies in Sentence One. He’s a friend of Ray’s, a former cop who did a tour in Iraq and couldn’t quite get into the swing of things back in the world. Ricky’s been living with his mother and driving cab for his cousin the past six months when he calls Ray in the middle of the night to ask if they can get together right now; Ricky thinks he made a big mistake. How big? Big enough to get him killed before he can tell Ray, which is about as big as mistakes get.

Matters are complicated by another retired cop, Jack Knight. He and Donne have history, little of it good, but Knight saved Donne’s life a while back, so there’s a debt. Knight is working as a private investigator and surprises Donne on his way home from the hospital with unnerving news: he’d been subbing work out to Ricky T, such as minor incident investigations for insurance companies—and, oh yeah—looking for the missing daughter of the biggest PR flack in New York.

There are more complications, all of which make sense after in time. The fact that Donne spends half the book recovering from a concussion makes him enough of an unreliable narrator to give the reader pause. He doesn’t remember everything that happened that night, and several later experiences are related while he’s trying not to throw up. As time goes on there are good reasons to believe Ricky’s death and the missing girl are related, but there is also the cache of guns Ricky’s brother has found. An old friend from Iraq, a girlfriend no one knew about, a pimp with a pit bull, and the overriding feeling that Lynch can’t be trusted keep all the pieces in motion.

Most of the series touchstones are here: Uncle Ray may be gruff and officious, but he loves his nephew; reporter girlfriend, Allison; the crew at the Line Up bar; and Edgar, computer savant, who lives to help Ray and is as unique a sidekick as is currently working in mystery fiction.

O’Mara’s matter-of-fact writing style moves the story along without drawing attention to itself, though it’s never bland. The banter among friends—both male and female—is authentic and entertaining. He also has a knack for knowing how much to describe: enough to let the reader’s imagination draw a picture of the person or scene, not so much things are slowed down. It’s the kind of writing that can make it easy for the reader to forget he’s reading, as the story seems at times to go directly to the brain without having to pass through the eyes.

The only thing missing from Dead Red is the usual school setting. It doesn’t hurt the book—those who enter the series here won’t think twice about it—but those who are already fans may notice. O’Mara is a teacher when he’s not writing, and the interplay between Donne and the kids in the other books makes him a unique series hero, as he balances a no-nonsense, results-oriented approach with genuine affection.

No big deal. Everyone needs their vacations. After how this one ended, Raymond Donne probably can’t wait for school to start again. I know I can’t.