*"The Long Goodbye"- Raymond Chandler's Phillip Marlowe-Style

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BOOK/DVD REVIEW

The Long Goodbye, novel written by Raymond Chandler, movie directed by Robert Altman, starring Elliot Gould, 1972

Phillip Marlowe, Raymond Chandler's classic noir hard-boiled private detective forever literarily associated with Los Angeles and its means streets is right at home here in his search, at the request of a friend, a ne'e-do-wll friend as it turns out, for the inevitable `missing woman' ("dame", "frill", "frail", for the non-politically correct types) who 'conveniently' turns up dead. There is plenty of sparse but functional dialogue, physical action and a couple of plot twists, particularly around the identity of the above-mentioned `dame' and the motives behind the involvement of various wealthy Californians who have much to gain by a cover-up.

Have no fear however the intrepid Marlowe will figure it out in the end and some kind of 'rough' justice will prevail. At this point in the Chandler Marlowe series our shamus has been around the block more than a few times but he still is punching away at the 'bad guys' and the absurdity of the modern world. How does this one compare with the other Marlowe volumes? Give me those background oil derricks churning out the wealth while looking for General Sternwood's Rusty Regan in The Big Sleep or the run down stucco flats in some shady places in pursuit of Moose's Velma in Farewell, My Lovely any day. Nevertheless, as always with Chandler, you get high literature in a plebeian package.

There have been many cinematic Phillip Marlowes from Bogart and Powell to Elliot Gould in this Altman production. They reflect their director's take on the times and on the character of Marlowe himself. The world-weary but virtuous Marlowe of the 1940's has been replaced in this film by a decidedly out-of-tune Marlowe who could realistically be arrested for vagrancy any minute in the up-scale and upward striving Los Angeles of 'new' California. Fortunately Robert Altman can make it work without being too syrupy. In other less capable hands, and with an actor other than Elliot Gould who sets the standard for all post-Bogart modern Marlowes (except probably the incessant chain-smoking) giving his all to the role, that is an iffy proposition. In any case the days of Chandler's, Cain's and Hammett's intrepid California characters are long gone. But, thankfully, at least not on film. This one will join that crowd.