Ironhorse is the first
of the continuations of Robert B Parker's Virgil Cole and Everett
Hitch series of westerns, and as with the Jesse Stone novels, the
Parker estate chose someone connected with the on-screen adaptations
of the books to continue the series. Robert Knott is an actor who
appeared with Ed Harris in Pollock, and co-wrote (with Harris) and
co-produced the movie Appaloosa. Unlike TV producer Michael
Brandman's version of Jesse Stone (see my review here), which
reflects the Tom Selleck films as much as Parker's, Knott sticks much
closer to the characters of Cole and Hitch. But he has a harder time
than Brandman of matching both Parker's tone and his narrative
drive. This is not to put down either of the screen adaptations,
which work fine on their own terms. But it's no coincidence that the
best of the post-Parker Parkers has been done by Ace Atkins, charged
with continuing Spenser (see my review here), not just because he's a
novelist, but because he brings no previous adaptation to the table.
Ironhorse begins on a
train, with Cole and Hitch returning from transporting two
Mexican conmen back to their own country. As they pass through the
Indian Territory, the train is held up, by a well-organised gang who
are unaware of what a deadly mistake they have made in their choice.
After being driven back, they uncouple Cole & Hitch from both the
engine and the rear carriages, making a temporary getaway. With them
are the governor, and his two daughters, one of whom has already
thrown up sparks with Hitch.
So far so good, but
from this point the story complicates greatly, moving back down the
line to a corrupt mining town with a cat house on every corner, then
back up the line, with sidetracks for shooting various varmints as
they appear or re-appear. The problem is not so much the prolix
detail about trains and engines, or indeed about Virgil and his
cigars---at times it feels like he's posing for a 19th
century version of Esquire—but more Knott's inability to draw in
these many characters with the same broad but telling strokes that
characterise Parker. Although many of them appear fascinating—not
just the villains but two women and an Indian working on the
railroad, a seemingly corrupt sheriff, a particularly adept whore
named Rose, and of course the governor's daughters, a pair that
matches perfectly Col. Munro's offspring in Last Of The Mohicans.
Instead of giving the
villains, or these characters, the space they need to interact, the
story bogs down in the middle, as our heroes plan, and get everything
explained to them when one of the villains turns out to carry his
press-cuttings with him. When the confrontations come, all of them,
with the exception of the ultimate, become matter of fact—whereas
Parker's shootouts are generally tests of personality.
Knott is good with Cole
and Hitch, but once they get into analysis of Cole's relationship
with Allie, who may or may not have taken up with a deputy while Cole
has been away on marshal's business, there's something a bit too
sensitive: Parker's Cole is another of the antitheses to Spenser;
he's much closer to Stone, but without the ability to express
whatever self-awareness he might have in regard to the opposite sex.
There is no reason behind his love for Allie, yet he accepts its reality
and thus acts as if there were, which for him is natural in the basic
sense of the word. I'm not sure Knott gets that, or can follow the
precision of Parker's portraits. But if he could maintain the tone
and focus of his first third, he could produce a more fitting
adaptation.
Robert B Parker's
Ironhorse by Robert Knott
Berkeley Books, $9.99,
ISBN 9780425267707
No comments :
Post a Comment