Robert Parker wrote four westerns starring Virgil Cole and Everett Hitch, starting with Appaloosa, which was made into an excellent film whose adaptation was co-written, with star Ed Harris, by Robert Knott. Blackjack is Knott's fourth continuation of Parker's series, and probably the best of the bunch.
You can find my reviews of the two of those previous novels here at Irresistible Targets. I wrote before that Knott was restrained a bit by the characterisations built up in the film,
which was a shame because it was Parker's sharp contrast between Hitch's perceptive narration (much like Spenser's first person in the detective novels) and Cole's western silence that delineated the story even more than the characters themselves. This problem continues: Knott lacks Parker's ability to allow Hitch to sketch in quickly the characters of supporting players, a shame in this book because the characters have the potential to be hugely entertaining, particularly Boston Bill Black, a gambler and gunman accused of a brutal murder, Valentine Pell, a gunman with a surprising past, and Daphne Angel, the muse of a great hotel/saloon/casino/brothel going up in Appaloosa.
But what is most problematic is the loss of the edginess in the relationship between Virgil and Allie, which lay at the core of Appaloosa. Allie is the polar opposite of Spenser's Susan. Just as Virgil is love struck but opposed to Spenser in his inability to deal with his obsession with Allie, Allie is incapable of being fully independent, and it's her lack of attachment to Virgil when his presence as anchor is drifting that made her a source of constant tension. Here they seem to have settled into a sort of unsatisfactory domestic bliss--but it also seems pretty clear that Knott is building a future conflict into the story.
Blackjack is actually more of a murder mystery than a western, made more difficult because the murder occured in Denver and there were no witnesses. There are scenes of courtroom drama, and unusual behaviour from the local judge which is never really explained. It's resolution is not quite unexpected, but the motivation and casuality are; they are very modern in their execution. Which also reminds me that there are a number of times when modern discourse interferes with the western setting: I doubt if 'meaningful relationship' or Ms. were part of the 19th century.
Knott keeps the story moving well, introduces a nice, if not fully delineated suporting cast, and gets enough out of the Hitch-Cole dynamic to make Blackjack a diverting, if not compelling, read.
Blackjack by Robert Knott
Putnam, US$9.99, ISBN 9781101982525
Showing posts with label Everett Hitch. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Everett Hitch. Show all posts
Friday, 29 June 2018
Friday, 14 February 2014
ROBERT B PARKER'S IRONHORSE BY ROBERT KNOTT
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
Labels:
Ace Atkins
,
Everett Hitch
,
Ironhorse
,
Jesse Stone
,
Michael Brandman
,
Robert B Parker
,
Robert Knott
,
Spenser
,
Tom Selleck
,
Virgil Cole
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