Late
in The Big Bounce, our protagonist watches
a pitcher on television and thinks to himself: “The son of a bitch was good,
but he sure could get into trouble.”
It’s
funny because the pitcher on the TV is Denny McLain, who kept finding trouble after
his playing days ended, and because the sentiment also applies to our
protagonist, Jack Ryan. Jack’s a small-time burglar who meets his match when he
hooks up with beautiful young Nancy Hayes, who likes to smash things. Jack and
Nancy have fun, but as the craziness mounts, he begins to wonder what
he got himself into.
Elmore Leonard was most famous in his life for writing contemporary thrillers about easy-going criminals making scores and sometimes getting set up in the process. It wasn’t always so. Back in the late 1960s, his specialty was westerns, short stories for the most part, which sometimes became successful movies. The Big Bounce was Leonard’s own big bounce away from that genre into a more modern, streetwise milieu. Tough-nosed and enjoyable, the novel nevertheless carries with it all the tics that trigger his critics to this day.
Thin stories – Leonard could
and did produce some beefy storylines that merit novel-length treatment. The Big Bounce isn’t one of them. It’s
that other kind of Leonard novel, where three fistfights and a sprinkling of
gunplay get stretched out with a lot of small talk and lengthy go-nowhere
descriptions of settings and characters. There is a plot here, but hardly
central to the story. Much happens in a largely random way.
Taciturn writing
style
– Leonard was famous for avoiding verbiage, ironic given how the guy could type
away about stuff for pages without getting to the point of anything. But when
it came to exposition before something serious went down, Leonard often opted
for the less-is-more school. Take an early moment when Ryan contemplates the
aftermath of a burglary he committed: “In time this would be past him and he
wouldn’t worry about it or think about it again. Look at all the things you’ve
done that you never think about anymore, he said to himself.” Tangy,
elliptical, suggestive, but rather sparse in terms of any thought process, like
an Eagles song. Want violins with your mayhem? Don’t look to Dutch Leonard.
Casual approach to
violence
– The Big Bounce is Exhibit A for
this. When we first see Jack Ryan, his image is being projected on a police
station’s movie screen, as we watch him whale on his former foreman with a baseball
bat after quitting a job picking cucumbers in Michigan. The cops are trying to
figure out what kind of case to make against him. The justice of the peace, one
Mr. Majestyk, is asked for his opinion: “I think he’s got a level swing, but
maybe he pulls too much.” The rest of the novel follows a similar line of
thinking, as violence and the threat of same often amuses but seldom changes
anything, for better or worse.
Self-references – Leonard often
made narrative references to the many film adaptations of his work; this was established
in The Big Bounce, the first Leonard
novel set in the motion-picture era. In one scene, after Jack is recruited by
Mr. Majestyk to work at the latter’s resort (told you he was casual about
violence), Ryan spies Mr. Majestyk watching a western. And not just any
western: The Tall T, a classic
Randolph Scott vehicle directed by the great Budd Boetticher and based on a
short story by our own Mr. L. Ryan spends a long time contemplating what fine
entertainment this is, specifically praising the direction. Leonard didn’t
always like how his stories were made for screen, so you notice this when you
know the background. Amusing, but kind of obtrusive, too.
Female trouble – Chicks are
often up to no good in Leonard novels, in ways that trigger feminists and
others with modern PC views. To be fair, this did change over time, as readers of Rum Punch and the Karen Sisco
stories can attest. But designing women were signature roles of early Leonard,
and you get a dousy here in Nancy Hayes, a rich-girl-gone-bad who’d be a more
entertaining character if she weren’t so one-note about it.
Actually, Nancy’s something
of a sociopath with a predilection for shooting at windows and cars for fun.
She also is “looking for the bounce,” as she calls it, namely making off with a
migrant workers’ payroll and enlisting Ryan as her accomplice:
“There’s a
difference,” Ryan said, “between breaking and entering and armed robbery.”
“And there’s a
difference between seventy-eight dollars and fifty thousand dollars,” Nancy
said. “How badly do you want it?”
I’m
here not to bury Leonard, but praise him. He wrote some poor novels like Riding The Rap and Cuba Libre, but more often good-to-great ones like The Hunted, Freaky Deaky, and Tishomingo
Blues. It’s just that in terms of the genre we have come to know as the
Leonard novel, The Big Bounce came
first and established what would be the format for everything after. So I want
to call out how it sets the template.
The Big Bounce set the Leonard template
in another way, too: It was made into a movie. Twice, actually, the first
coming out the same time as the book. Neither that version – starring Ryan
O’Neal, Van Heflin, and Leigh Taylor-Young – nor a 2004 remake starring Owen
Wilson, Morgan Freeman, and Sara Foster won over moviegoers or the box office,
but you see why producers went in thinking otherwise.
As
a novel, The Big Bounce establishes
Leonard as a savvy follower of the modern scene, able to dial into characters
and establish them quickly for both humor and suspense. Like I say, the story
is thin – as George Armitage, director of the remake, told Film Comment in 2015 “the book, when you break it down, is
basically an act and a half. It’s not three acts.” But its ambiance and tone is
pure Leonard.
Take
for example Bob Rogers Sr., the rich guy who runs the cucumber operation, thinking
his wife might discover his serial adultery:
…he knew his wife
wasn’t going to make a case out of this one. He was busy, he traveled a lot, he
had interests in several companies in addition to Ritchie Foods; his wife had a
$150,000 home, live-in help, clubs, charge accounts, their one child in a good
school and she could believe whatever she liked.
Or
the way Nancy, at the moment shacked up at Bob Sr.’s hideaway as his weekend
squeeze, sizes up Jack after their first meeting:
Nancy had a
feeling about Ryan. Not an emotional feeling, a girl-boy feeling, but a clearly
focused zeroed-in feeling, a seeing-him-and-knowing-right-away feeling that
Jack Ryan, or someone just like him, was the answer: her way out of here with a
lot more than furniture and a few clothes.
A
key problem with The Big Bounce is
that nobody in it is very likable. After seeing him club that foreman, we next
watch Jack take two migrants along for a quick burglary of a beach house where fraternity
alumni are gathered for a boat-and-swim outing. After stealing a number of untended
wallets, Jack blows off his accomplices and goes off on his own, where he meets
Mr. Majestyk, who likes how the guy handles himself and offers him a job.
You
get the feeling you met these guys before, in later Leonard novels. A few years
later, Swag featured robber Frank
Ryan, while the more famous Out Of Sight
introduced burglar Jack Foley. There’s even a Leonard novel called Mr. Majestyk, though the title character
there is not Jack Ryan’s sponsor here.
Why
does Mr. Majestyk take such a liking to Jack? Like so much else, this isn’t
explained. The 2004 movie provides one motive, but that character is not at all
like the guy in the book. Points one and two, he’s played by Morgan Freeman and
has a different name; point three, his big line about God being “just an
imaginary friend for grown-ups,” feels out of place for the religious-minded
Mr. Majestyk of the book.
Leonard
plays around with religious ideas for awhile, Jack being a lapsed Catholic. One
subplot involves a pious guest at Mr. Majestyk’s hotel, Virginia, who
fantasizes about Jack but falls apart when he makes a move on her. The
awkwardness of the near-rape for today’s readers may not have been entirely
lost on Leonard, who wanted to establish his character’s outlaw nature. It gives
Jack an opportunity to show some minor, redemptive remorse later on, but this
subplot reads more like Leonard filling pages.
The
story as it comes together centers on Jack and Nancy, and his suspicions about
their relationship. “He had the feeling he shouldn’t move too fast – like
reaching out to pet an animal that might take his hand off if he didn’t do it
gently.” Jack is right to worry as Nancy sells him on her big payroll-theft
scheme.
But
as my interest in Nancy’s dangerous personality began to flag with a third of
the book still to go; I found myself needing more than I was getting. Leonard
seemed to sense this, and flips the script a bit – those wallets Jack stole
come back to haunt him – but not in a riveting way. You pick up a Leonard novel
expecting suspense, but The Big Bounce
rambles instead.
Sometimes
it does so pleasantly, like with the baseball stuff. Baseball was Leonard’s
favorite pastime, and he cleverly uses Jack’s interest in the sport (he was a
former minor-league pitcher) to give our protagonist a means out from the dangerous
action happening around him. It’s not much, but I enjoyed it.
I
can say the same for The Big Bounce
itself. As the keystone for Leonard’s magnificent late-inning career as crime
novelist, it certainly sets up some fantastic reading journeys to come. As a
stand-alone, it entertains more around the margins than in the main, but that
was sometimes Leonard’s modus operandi, too.
No comments:
Post a Comment