4 stars.
A rumination of 70s decadence and hyperviolent splatter, Michael Blodgett's debut novel Captain Blood (1979) is difficult to process and even more so to articulate into collected, ordered thoughts. Michael Blodgett, a noted character actor in the 70s, featured in films such as Beneath the Valley of the Dolls, writing such films as Turner & Hooch, retired from the camera in 1976 after what he admits was the result of a bad experience. Michael Blodgett took up the pen instead and set out to exorcise his copper-toned demons in this, his debut novel, Captain Blood. The novel was finished in 1977 but wouldn't be released until 1979 due to prerelease controversy. Captain Blood would then draw the attention and praise from Mario Puzo, the author best known for The Godfather (1969). When it was finally released, this endorsement would catapult Captain Blood onto the best-selling book charts, never mind the transgressive nature of a title like this, something akin to proto-splatter. Set in a shimmering, sun-soaked 70s Los Angeles, the plot follows a younger man named Captain Blood—his father being a huge Errol Flynn fan—and his misadventures in dismantling a West Coast Heroin consortium by way of torture, mutilation, and murder. From the jump, Captain Blood asserts himself as an unreliable narrator, one with innumerable mental illnesses, a cocktail of noxious narcissism, swallowed by the self-appointed vigilante-cum-executioner. I honestly wouldn't be surprised if it turned out that author Jeff Linsday took inspiration from Captain Blood when he wrote Darkly Dreaming Dexter (2004), the source novel for the hit Showtime series. Still, it's that god complex of Captain Blood's that Blodgett focuses on, something that seems to tie directly into the threads of the narrative, with an opening page; a dream sequence that begs to be reread after finishing the novel—it's here on this page, the dark, beating heart of Captain Blood, for all its pleasant cruelties. For the uncensored text, you'll need to locate a Stonehill Publishing Company edition, as Bantam would make dozens of edits to its mass market paperback galley proof, altering everything from mentions of Queen (the band) to stripping much of the brutality from the sequences of violence and shortening the many scenes of explicit, pornographic, sex—choosing to mute the once-screaming descriptions instead and silencing the roar of the author. Your options for reading the unaltered text—that I know of—are the Stonehill Publishing Company hardback first edition or the New English Library (NEL) paperback. Captain Blood is a transgressive oddity of fiction and deserves to be rediscovered. It's a novel of so many things, taken far past the point of excess. Bikini briefed sun-tanned, polo-tucked-into-short-shorts, serial-killing vigilantism, a god-shocked interpretation of what I'd liken to a grindhouse Miami Vice episode, laden with incest, malaise, mentions of bestiality, leaving no stone unturned when it comes to diabolical paraphilias. What's so terrifying is how likable Captain Blood is at times. There's wry humor to be found, even on the darkest pages. Blodgett excels in building Captain to be this intimidating monolith of toxic masculinity, peeling back the veil slowly to reveal bared teeth highlighting the corner of a welcoming but demonic grin. Just about every kind of warning comes with this one. For example, a scene of torture within describes a helmet/cage apparatus containing a starving sewer rat fastened to a character's head, with a removable partition allowing the rat to devour the victim's face while they are bound. Continue at your own risk.