Finally, the cycle of bad books has been broken! 🎉😃🥂🕺
While not as good as the first two entries, it was still pretty fun. Eccentric Hollywood producers, writers and actors, wise guys, mobsters, gang-wars. Action-packed, fast paced but also has a lot of heart. One of the things that I really appreciate in Cannell's writing is that his characters develop over time. They don't stay the same. They learn from their experiences and grow. Shane, Alexa and Chooch are amazing characters, to be honest, and the way the deal with problems that come their wat is nothing short of amazing. Chooch is defo coming into his own and shows a trength of character (not surprising though, as Cannell inserted into this series what he did insert to all of his works: main characters with strong moral fiber. Not perfect, very flawed, but always doing the right thing).
I also loved the nods Cannell made for his past shows he produced/created. The entire plot is pretty much taken from the Dead Dog Record story-arc from "Wiseguy" (with few changes, of course). There were mentions of "Hunter" (one of my all-time favorite shows) which was also awesome. And I could swear I felt the spirit of Donnie "Dogs" DiBarto from "Silk Stalkings" in Valentine- there were defo some similarities. Only the dog was missing, to be honest 😁. There were many scenes and one liners that referenced his past show, and this entry indeed felt like a love letter to Hollywood.
4 stars, leaning into 4.5. Fun, action-packed, fast paced, great humor and lots of heart and great characters. Really, what more can you ask for (and expect from the master himself?)
She got up, grabbed her beaded bag off the vinyl seat of the booth, hesitated, then snatched up the cocktail napkin, put it inside her purse, and snapped it shut. She gave Shane a timid smile, then hurried out the door.
How did the prettiest girl in Teaneck, New Jersey, end up selling her body to strangers on Adams Avenue? Some things, while on the one hand were easy to understand, at the same time defied all human logic.
Why were the losers affecting him so much lately? A few years ago he could have looked at Carol White, put the cuffs on her, and never looked back. But now it was almost as if he felt responsible for her plight, as if she existed in her current wretched state because Shane Scully had not done his job correctly, had somehow failed her personally. He knew that cops usually couldn't change the way things were, but since the Viking case, he had started to see the remnants of humanity inside all of these human flameouts.
He had looked past the surface of Carol White. Behind her red-rimmed eyes he could see the beautiful girl from Teaneck, New Jersey, still alive inside looking out at him, bewildered at how she'd ended up this way.
And that's what haunted him. That's what was ruining this beautiful windswept day.
"Why are you doing this to me?"
Shane moved around the desk, sat on the corner, and looked down at Nicky, who seemed terrified of him, or Valentine, or maybe just of life in general. "Nicky, you used me to find Carol. I found her, and I don't know how it happened, but she got to me. Some part of me, Nicky, has been sitting around lately wondering why I'm here, why I'm a cop, why I even bother anymore. But when I saw her hanging from that rafter, I promised myself somebody was gonna finally give a shit what happened to Carolyn White. If Dennis Valentine killed her, he's going down for it. And if I have to waste you to make that happen, that works, too."
"He gets more ass than a redneck at a reunion..."
Valentine switched subjects quickly, pointing disgustedly at Shane's plate. "Y'know how long some of that meat's gonna live in your intestines?" he said.
"Not long… I shit logs."
"Yeah, you laugh, but most Americans carry around ten pounds of undigested meat in their colons. You're killing yourself one bite at a time."
"I'd rather be dead than hungry," Shane said as he took another bite. "We can compare notes in hell."
"You haven't met Paul Lubick. When they were passing out assholes, this guy got one with fangs".
"Yeah, China. Tell him about the Hunter thing." Dennis grinned.
"Yes, well, the TV show Hunter, starring Fred Dryer, was on in China in the mid-eighties. First American TV show to ever play there. The producers didn't get much money for it, 'cause the TV business in China is small and government-owned. But that show had a huge cultural impact. After it ran, democracy gained a foothold. There is a good cause-and-effect case to be made that the rise of democratic thought in China paralleled the popularity of that show." Lee Postil was coming to life now. "The Chinese people saw Hunter driving around in Bel-Air, saw the big homes, and it made them want democracy. After Tiananmen Square, the Chinese government threw the show off the national network, and it never played there again."
"... This isn't about being a cop. It's about being a man. You always tell me that a man has to live with the consequences of his actions. Well, I can't live with the consequences of inaction. You told me on my birthday last year that from now on, you're going to treat me as an equal. But I guess that's just when nothing's at stake. Now that someone I really care about is in danger, you're telling me I'm a kid, that I don't really have a vote."
"Senor…" Delfina was looking only at Shane now, her eyes boring into him while choosing her words with care. "My cousin is rifa. You know this word? He is special-the very best. But he fights for things so big, he has made bad choices to win. He worries about the movimiento and our clica. He fights for his people, but his weapons are wrong. He uses drugs and guns. These things give him money, and money gives him power, but they also enslave the children he hopes one day to free. He knows this and it tortures him. He cannot sleep. He is up half the night pacing. He wants to be a force for good. He wants to change the laws, to affect the politics here in El Norte, but without the drugs he has no leverage. This dilemma is destroying him. He carries it all on his back. It is making him desperate, and one day soon it will cause his death."
Shane often thought that guilt was like poison, that each person had only a limited amount they could absorb. Once you hit your saturation point, guilt got its shot at you. It would knock you down and feed on you, weakening you until you could no longer stand the consequences of your actions. Guilt could drive you in dangerous directions, push you up against defining prerogatives and ugly realities. It seemed to him that cops were especially susceptible. They saw the worst of society and often got the worst. They wore thin armor constructed out of cynicism and disdain, but often got pushed into dark emotional corners where they ended the struggle by chewing on their own gun barrels. Carol had pushed Shane slightly closer to his own psychological and emotional edge. Pushed him there because, since Alexa and Chooch had come into his life, he had started to feel. He had started to care. But feelings were sloppy, untidy emotions that, in law enforcement, were a terrible liability.