Five Cool Things and George Wendt

Farewell, My Lovely & The Big Sleep

In 1975, Dick Richards directed an adaptation of the Raymond Chandler novel Farewell, My Lovely with Robert Mitchum starring as Phillip Marlowe, Chandler’s famous private eye. Three years later, Mitchum once again starred as Marlowe in The Big Sleep, making him the only actor to have portrayed the detective in more than one film. As far as I can tell, these two films have no relationship to one another other than Mitchum the star and Marlowe the character. The films were made by different studios, and other than Mitchum, I can’t find any other shared personnel who worked on both movies. Farwell, My Lovely is set in 1940s Los Angeles, the time and place where the novel occurred, while The Big Sleep transplanted itself to London in a contemporary 1970s setting. It does not refer to the previous film in any way, shape, form, or fashion.

Buy Farewell, My Lovely / The Big Sleep Double Feature Blu-ray

I find that utterly fascinating and utterly perplexing. Presumably, someone got the rights to The Big Sleep, thought that Mitchum made a pretty good Marlowe, but for one reason or another couldn’t afford to connect it to the previous film and just went with it.

Though The Big Sleep was made three years after Farewell, My Lovely, it was actually the first novel Raymond Chandler wrote (Farewell, M Lovely was the second). As such, I always wind up watching The Big Sleep first, followed by Farewell, My Lovely, much to my confusion.

The Big Sleep is not a good movie. There is absolutely no reason to change the setting to London. Marlowe is an L.A. detective through and through, and London doesn’t add anything to the story. The contemporary setting is also strange. Robert Altman made great use of a 1970s setting with his Chandler adaptation of The Long Goodbye, but there is none of that here. It doesn’t help that the novel was previously adapted in 1946 with Humphrey Bogart and Lauren Bacall. That film is a stone-cold classic and one of the all-time great film noirs. This film could only pale in comparison. The only interesting thing it does is bring to the forefront some of the novel’s more salacious details, including pornography, drug use, and homosexuality. Things the earlier film could only hint at.

But Farwell, My Lovely is a pretty good movie. It was also adapted in the 1940s with Dick Powell playing Marlowe, and while it is enjoyable, it isn’t as iconic as the Bogart film, so this adaptation doesn’t feel completely unnecessary. The plot is as twisty as any Chandler story, with Marlowe being hired by an enormous ex-con to find his girlfriend and finding himself involved with missing jewels, a notorious madame, and all kinds of murder.

You could make an argument that Mitchum is technically a better Marlow than Bogart was; his portrayal is more in keeping with the character as written, but Bogart is so good I’ve never been able to see the character as anyone but him. I like Mitchum in Farewell, My Lovely (he’s pretty much sleepwalking in the role during The Big Sleep), and the rest of the cast (including Charlotte Rampling, Harry Dean Stanton, and a young Sylvester Stallone) is terrific. It isn’t the best Chandler adaptation, but it is quite enjoyable.

The Long Goodbye

As noted, Robert Altman directed this adaptation of Raymond Chandler’s novel of the same name. It was the sixth and penultimate novel to feature Phillip Marlowe. The challenge was adapting a character who was very much of his time in the 1940s into a contemporary 1970s setting. The genius of Altman (and Elliot Gould, who plays Marlowe) was to basically transplant the character with all of his 1940s sensibilities into 1970s California and let the contrast be part of the film’s mood. Altman started calling the character Rip Van Marlowe.

Buy The Long Goodbye (Special Edition) Blu-ray

Gould plays Marlowe as completely out of place. He wears a buttoned-up suit, chain smokes, drives a vintage car, mumbles to himself, and seems completely mystified by everything he sees. He barely notices his neighbors, a gaggle of half-naked beauties who do yoga on their front porch. He just kind of stumbles into cases, and barely works on them when he does.

The plot involves Marlowe’s friend, who is accused of murdering his wife, and a missing husband. It is twisty and convoluted, and I’m not entirely sure it all makes sense, but the plot isn’t the point. The joy, as in all of Altman’s films, is just watching these characters live inside this world. And what a joy it is. This is probably my favorite of the director’s films, and one of the best adaptations of Raymond Chandler’s works.

Duster opening credits

Duster is a new series from JJ Abrams. It stars Josh Holloway as a badass getaway driver who is forced to team up with the FBI’s first black agent (Rachel Hilson), who is trying to take down a crime boss (Keith David). There have only been two episodes released so far. I’ve quite liked them, but before I talk about the show, I’ll let a few more episodes drop.

I do want to talk about the opening credits. At a time when most television series have minimal opening credits (or none at all), it is refreshing to see one so creative and wonderful. Duster is very much a car show, with loads of scenes with Holloway zipping around in his titular Plymouth Duster. The series is set in 1972, so there are lots of other great vintage autos as well. It is also a throwback to the type of show they rarely make anymore – fun, exciting, and not all that serious. It is a bit like The Dukes of Hazzard, but less racist and more awesome. It is the kind of show I would have loved as a kid. As such, the opening credits feature a bunch of Hot Wheels-looking cars chasing after each other. They even move like they’d move with kids playing with them – sliding just to the edge of a cliff but never over, making big jumps, and at the end they even go over one of those loop-de-loops (with several cars falling off just like they did when I was a kid).

It is a blast to watch. I hope the show continues that energy.

After the Thin Man

Raymond Chandler was a huge fan of Dashiell Hammett and is often considered his successor to the mystery writer’s throne. Hammett wrote only five novels in his career (plus numerous short stories). Unlike Chandler’s, whose novels all feature Phillip Marlowe, Hammett’s stories starred a variety of main characters and toyed with different tones.

Buy After the Thin Man Blu-ray

His novel The Thin Man was turned into an absolutely delightful film starring William Powell and Myrna Loy (who would make thirteen films together, six of which were Thin Man movies). Powell portrays Nick Charles, a former detective, who married Nora (Loy), a rich socialite, and now lives a life of great leisure (and great imbibing of alcohol). The first film was a great success, and they made five sequels and numerous radio plays starring the characters.

The films are part mystery, part comedy, with Nick and Nora trading hilarious barbs, whilst drinking heavily and periodically solving crimes. The first film is a classic. After The Thin Man is the first sequel. I’d argue the mystery is more interesting in this one, though the barbs, while still quite funny, don’t quite have the sharpness of the first film. But it is well worth watching for the chemistry Powell and Loy share.

George Wendt (1948-2025)

Cheers was the first television series I ever really, truly loved. I watched it religiously every Thursday night. One of the local Tulsa stations used to play reruns every weeknight at 10:30. That was too late for me to watch on a school night, but every holiday and all through the summer, I’d tune in. I used to tape the new shows and the reruns on VHS. Eventually, I had dozens of tapes full of nothing but Cheers. I’ve probably watched every episode a dozen times. I developed my first theories about comedy watching that show. To say it was a formative show in my pop culture upbringing would be putting it mildly.

Buy Drinking with George: A Barstool Professional’s Guide to Beer paperback

The beating hearts of Cheers was Norm Peterson (George Wendt) and Cliff Clavin (John Ratzenberger), two barflies who spent every evening sipping beers and telling stories. They were two losers who had nothing better to do than show up night after night holding up a bar stool and getting drunk. But they found a family at that bar, and one of television’s most delightful friendships.

Norm was a one-man one-liner delivery machine, and George Wendt was the master. Someone created a supercut of all the times Norm entered the bar (to which he was always treated with an enthusiastic “Norm!” followed by a question by one of the barkeeps and a hilarious one-liner response). It seems like the perfect way to celebrate the great comedian.