trilogy

Colson Whitehead’s latest foray into the bent world of “reluctant fence” Ray Carney — “Cool Machine,” the third and final installment of his Harlem Trilogy — is an American epic disguised as a heist novel. It’s a dizzyingly brilliant measure of the versatility and depth of the acclaimed author’s literary talent.

After writing two books dealing with monstrous historical trauma and institutional abuse — “The Underground Railroad” and “The Nickel Boys,” for which he won two successive Pulitzers — Whitehead pivots to an entirely new genre, subverting it, toying with it, making it wholly his own. And while the Harlem novels, too, have a great deal to say about serious subjects such as systemic racism, corruption, and crimes and misdemeanors of various proportions, they often lean on humor to get the message across.

In fact, it’s easy to envision the author at his laptop, as exhilarated as his prose, cracking himself up over how he bends language, employs slang, and forges descriptions like this one about a bar where Carney and a partner in crime conspire over how to fence a stolen diamond necklace: “He met Flinch Wilson at the Marlin, a narrow dive on 110th and Broadway with a decor inspired by an old leather shoe that lived in a drainage pipe.” Or this about a rival who has it out for Carney and his cohorts: “Buzz struck him as a plumber, one who comes back when you aren’t home to strangle your parakeet if you stiff him on the bill.”

“Cool Machine” is set in the 1980s, and Carney is still in the picture. It’s the Reagan era, and predatory capitalism rules, as does Mayor Giuliani, who’s waged war on the mafia and the homeless. What Whitehead dubs the “churn” roils the city and his protagonist. It’s that “churn” that beckons Carney to break his promise to himself and once again divert from his legit furniture store business. The excuse this time is that his wife Elizabeth wants to open her own travel agency, and can’t get a bank loan. Despite the couple’s closeness, for all these years her husband has managed to conceal that he’s a part-time crook. He desires respectability, but savors the buzz, the camaraderie — the honor among thieves. Carney falls in with criminal mastermind Uncle Rich and signs on to his outrageous plan to break into the Waldorf Astoria; the goal is to liberate Jesse Owens’ Olympic gold medal from those who forced him to cash it in.

The intricacy with which Whitehead details the planning and execution of this caper marks him as a top-tier researcher — he’s drawn on many primary sources to ground this work of fiction in historical fact. (There’s also his obsessive use of Pinterest.) The scenes set in the bowels of Grand Central, where there’s a secret train track leading to the Waldorf, are thrilling enough to read for their action, but the atmospheric descriptions are equally delectable: “Track 23’s next departure pulled into the station. One commuter joined Carney and Uncle Rich on the platform, a deflated man in a pinstripe suit with shiny elbows, then another businessman who sagged on one side, as if his briefcase was filled with lead weights.” One of the marvels of this novel is how effortlessly such sentences land, despite being honed to perfection. It would be a spoiler to say anything further about whether the thieves’ mission impossible yields their reward.

Part two of the novel shifts downtown, into the heart of the ’80s East Village art scene. A preoccupation of Whitehead’s — Jean-Michel Basquiat — is the inspiration for a fictional graffiti artist whose omnipresent scrawls capture the pretensions of the burgeoning wheelers and dealers, who, like uptown crooks, are relentless strivers, albeit with sleeker facades. Their snobbery is juxtaposed with Carney’s friend and colleague Pepper’s unsettling bluntness and eyeball to eyeball stare. He’s on the trail of a psychopath-for-hire dubbed “the Melancholy Hitman,” while battling stomach issues that have him downing Pepto-Bismol and coughing up blood in random bathrooms. In this section, Carney plays a supporting role to Pepper’s lead; “Escape from New York” is the enveloping soundtrack.

In the novel’s final act, Carney reemerges from straight life and Pepper from retirement in Delaware to rescue Carney’s nephew, Robert, who’s on the mob’s hit list for a murder he witnessed. Political corruption is rampant, and the revelation of who’s on the take has rattled a lot of cages. Robert is unwittingly entrapped, and has absconded with something mob bigwig Lombardi wants revenge for. Carney dons his best furniture salesman hat to make the pitch of a lifetime, a deal that could save Robert’s life, or take Carney’s. As Carney drives to the meet-up, he reflects on New York’s evolution: “Crime transformed the city by degrees. He thought of what John [his son] told him about rap music, where it came from. Rap was part of the New York environment now, barging from boom boxes and windows. They created something new from the spoils, the theft of turntables from record shops, the rip-off of a musical line or riff from another song — a crooked art.”

For those who enjoy knowing how an author’s inspiration arrives, it’s amusing to note that in the case of the trilogy that kicked off in 2021 with “Harlem Shuffle,” Whitehead told the New Yorker: “I was staring off into space and thinking about how much I like heist films and how much fun it would be to write a heist.” That sounds simple enough, but “Harlem Shuffle” turned out to be years in the making. The idea initially came to him around the same time he was writing “The Underground Railroad,” which was published in 2016. It wasn’t until after the release of that book, and then “Nickel Boys,” that Whitehead decided to lighten the mood by composing a crime novel set in New York City in the 1960s. And while he usually avoids staying on the same topic or voice from book to book, in the midst of writing “Harlem Shuffle,” Whitehead found he was still imagining further escapades for his main character, this time in the 1970s, with the city on the verge of bankruptcy, and incendiary conflagrations between the NYPD and the Black Liberation Army trending. As he envisioned what would become “Crook Manifesto,” Whitehead thought: “Why not make it three?”

Carney is part poet. Part crook. Part salesman. Part philosopher. To my knowledge, Carney’s creator is neither crook nor salesman, but Whitehead can lay claim to those other two mantles. His vocabulary appears boundless, as does his apparent love for the city he grew up in, where he still lives. “Cool Machine” is a modern masterpiece and an ode to New York, no matter that rats skitter and cockroaches scamper underfoot. When Carney has the chance to move anywhere in the world he wants, he ponders the appeal of fresh air. “Fresh was nice,” he reflects, “but so was other stuff. Noise, dirt, and struggle.” After escaping Manhattan, he wonders, “Where do you go? There’s no place else. It was like going on the lam from yourself.”

Whether or not New York is your jam, or a place you have escaped from or to, Whitehead’s Harlem Trilogy is destined to live on as an American classic. Never mind the rats and cockroaches — it’s the churn.

Haber is a writer, editor and publishing strategist, and co-founder of the Ink Book Club on Substack. She was director of Oprah’s Book Club and books editor for O, the Oprah Magazine.

Hello! I’m Mark Olsen. Welcome to another edition of your regular field guide to a world of Only Good Movies.

Recently, I don’t exactly know why, I was overtaken by a concern that because of the impending merger of Paramount and Warner Bros., Olivier Assayas’ 2022 series adaption of his own film “Irma Vep” would be removed from the HBO Max streaming platform. With no official physical release, the series — starring Alicia Vikander as a Hollywood movie star making a project in Paris — could be effectively vanished from existence.

This is sadly inevitable, though some superfans have gone to extra-legal measures to ensure otherwise (not that we would ever endorse this). Most famously it’s happened with the original “Star Wars” trilogy. Billed as the “Grindhouse Edition,” these are discs of the first three “Star Wars” films sourced from scans of original film prints before the digital fixes and polish of the more recent official releases. Reengaging with these works in this way, scratches and all, is (I’m told) a strong reminder of why they hit so hard in the first place, similar to how it might be to reread a text in the original language instead of a more recent translation.

‘Indiana Jones’ marathon

Harrison Ford and Karen Allen on the set of 1981’s “Raiders of the Lost Ark.”

(Lucasfilm Ltd.)

The same deep understanding of genre filmmaking that went into the original “Star Wars” also went into “Raiders of the Lost Ark,” the first adventure of the character of Indiana Jones. Directed by Steven Spielberg from a script by Lawrence Kasdan and story by George Lucas and Philip Kaufman, the film is playful, thrilling and self-aware. It is made with such care, attention to detail and sense of fun that I remember how disappointed I was to discover not all movies would be like this.

There have of course been diminishing returns with the more recent run of Indiana Jones sequels, but the first three installments all have a real spark. And so the Secret Movie Club will present “Raiders,” 1984’s “Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom” and 1989’s “Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade,” all on 35mm at the Million Dollar Theater in DTLA on Sunday in celebration of Father’s Day.

In her original review of the first film, Sheila Benson described that while watching it, she felt “a rush of gratitude which almost brought tears of contagious joy and — not to be corny about this — the strength of the film’s positive vision. If this is an era in which the heroic is lacking and the mediocre threatens us from every side, then ‘Raiders,’ which has no pretensions to importance, which is unabashedly wide-eyed and exaggerated and true blue but somehow cherishes the best in life and filmmaking — is a high-water mark.”

Plenty of jokes could be made about the movies having settled into what might be thought of as part of the dadcore canon: action-adventure movies that play well on TV and maybe you can take a short nap and not miss anything. So be it.

From one master to another

Cary Grant and Eva Marie Saint in Alfred Hitchcock’s 1959 thriller “North by Northwest.”

(Sunset Boulevard / Corbis via Getty Images)

Filmmaker Guillermo del Toro has been making waves of late for his strong public stance against the use of AI in feature filmmaking. But it is worth remembering that he is also a deep and incisive thinker about older movies, a true fan, which makes his upcoming appearances at the Academy Museum a special occasion.

Del Toro will present five films by Alfred Hitchcock — 1946’s “Notorious,” 1943’s ‘Shadow of a Doubt,” 1959’s “North by Northwest,” 1953’s “I Confess” and 1972’s “Frenzy” — along with delivering a lecture on each of them. To see one great filmmaker reflect with such depth into the work of another is just remarkable. This is some genuine only-in-L.A. type stuff.

Comedy + politics = good fun

A scene from the 1976 movie “Car Wash.”

(Margaret Herrick Library / Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences)

A raucous comedy set around the location of the title, “Car Wash” is also a sharp, politically minded satire about labor and money. Directed by Michael Schultz from a screenplay by Joel Schumacher, the film has an extended ensemble cast that includes Richard Pryor, Franklyn Ajaye, George Carlin and many others.

In his original review Charles Champlin compared “Car Wash” to films such as “American Graffiti” and “Nashville” and called it “light but not foolish. … The experience is exhilarating.”

A 50th anniversary screening at the Academy Museum on Saturday of a new 4K restoration will include a panel with Schultz and actors Bill Duke, Antonio Fargas, Melanie Mayron, Garrett Morris and Pepe Serna.

Collision report

James Spader in the 1996 movie “Crash,” directed by David Cronenberg.

(Jonathan Wenk / Fine Line Features)

The controversy that surrounded David Cronenberg’s “Crash” when it premiered at Cannes in 1996 and received a U.S. release in 1997 tended to overwhelm the actual movie. Shockingly explicit, the film is about a secret underground world of people who create a sexual fetish out of car crashes. An adaptation of the novel by J.G. Ballard, Cronenberg’s movie explores the cinematic obsession with sex and violence.

Over time, “Crash” has been evolving from a seemingly cursed object dogged by scandal into something that audiences can come to appreciate and admire — even if it is not a movie you can ever exactly fully understand. Part of Cronenberg’s brilliance is how enigmatic and unknowable his work can be: strange, inviting and enveloping while refusing easy or direct analysis.

The movie is playing twice locally this week, on Saturday at Vidiots in partnership with the Cinegogue, with special giveaways and exclusive merch, and again on Monday at the Academy Museum in 4K. Who will be brave (or perverse) enough to go twice?

A different view of Rio

Milton Gonçalves, center, in the 1974 movie “The Devil Queen.”

(Kino Lorber)

A drag queen (Milton Gonçalves) rules the criminal underworld of Rio de Janeiro in Antonio Carlos da Fontoura’s 1974 gangster drama “The Devil Queen,” an unlikely mix of camp aesthetics and gritty violence. Among the film’s many fans is Kleber Mendonça Filho, the filmmaker behind the recent Brazilian hit “The Secret Agent,” who referred to “The Devil Queen” as “bloody, nasty and full of personality.”

The movie is playing in a new 4K restoration at the Lumiere Cinema in Beverly Hills.

A musical melodrama returns

Raul Julia, left, and Teri Garr in Francis Ford Coppola’s 1981 movie “One From the Heart.”

(Rialto Pictures / American Zoetrope)

We have talked before about Francis Ford Coppola’s “One From the Heart,” a movie of such delirious audacity that it nearly ruined the filmmaker‘s career. A throwback musical about two lovers who break up in search of more excitement, the film stars Teri Garr, Frederic Forrest, Nastassja Kinski and Raul Julia.

On Saturday the film will screen at the American Cinematheque’s Aero Theater in a 70mm print for the first time in L.A. since 1990. The event is being dedicated to Dean Tavoularis, Coppola’s longtime production designer, who died in April. For “One From the Heart,” Tavoularis re-created the Las Vegas Strip on a studio back lot.

New this week

• Amy Nicholson is not a fan of the new “Toy Story 5,” writing in her review, “Pixar has continued adding shades to the same plot outline like a child with a box of 128 crayons (or a company clinging to its billion-dollar idea).”
• Glenn Whipp cast back into the “Toy Story” universe for a highly personal ranking of his 10 favorite “Toy Story” toys.
• Two gay teenage boys attempt to survive a supernatural entity and conversion therapy in Adrian Chiarella’s debut feature “Leviticus.” Jen Yamato spoke to the filmmaking team.
• I spoke to writer-director Michael Sarnoski about his new “The Death of Robin Hood,” starring Hugh Jackman in a subversively revisionist telling of the last days of the medieval bandit.

Look, up in the stands — it’s J.K. Simmons and your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man!

The Academy Award-winning actor, who portrayed Daily Bugle chief J. Jonah Jameson in director Sam Raimi’s “Spider-Man” trilogy, was reunited with his onscreen nemesis at the New York Mets game Tuesday.

After a clip from “Spider-Man” was shown on the stadium screen at Citi Field during the Mets game against the Cincinnati Reds, the camera cut to Simmons in the stands. In the row behind him was Jameson’s favorite masked menace, reading a copy of the Daily Bugle.

The “Whiplash” actor played along with the bit, turning around to face Spider-Man and waving his arms to express his displeasure. Channeling his inner Jameson, a spirited Simmons then motioned for Spider-Man to get tossed from the game. Photos and videos of the moment have been shared across social media.

(A devoted Detroit Tigers fan, Simmons repped his favorite team under the Mets jersey he wore at the game.)

After playing Jameson in Raimi’s “Spider-Man” trilogy that wrapped in 2007, Simmons returned to the role for a mid-credits cameo in the 2019 film “Spider-Man: Far From Home” when the vocal Spider-Man critic revealed the hero’s identity to the world. Simmons’ incarnation of the character has since appeared in “Venom: Let There Be Carnage” (2021), “Spider-Man: No Way Home” (2021) and “Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse” (2023).

The next installment of the webslinging superhero’s adventures is “Spider-Man: Brand New Day,” which hits theaters July 31. Simmons’ involvement has not officially been confirmed.