In sketching the career of LA police chief William H Parker, John Buntin has written a history book that reveals that the real-life shenanigans of politicians, cops and crooks in LA would make most contemporary
noir films appear as fake as a bowl of wax fruit. Yes, with a cast of characters that includes strippers named Candy Barr, secret intelligence files full of juicy details and an indelible description of the killing of Bugsy Siegel, the material is instantly compelling. But Buntin has constructed his book intelligently and with purpose; as he states in the acknowledgments section, his central figure Parker was "a controversial police chief whom criminologists associated with what they call 'the professional model' of policing" but was seen at the same time as "'an arrogant racist' who nearly destroyed the west's greatest city". He delved deep into the original source material, even tracking down de-accessioned LAPD records in an effort to write an objective history of Parker's impact on the LAPD. Interestingly, while the book's focus is on Parker's career and so offers more details about the years between the 20s and 60s, Buntin ultimately uses Parker's carefully crafted protection of the position of police chief (which he achieved by proposing changes to legislation) to illustrate the failure of the LAPD to contain the riots in 1992 after the beating of Rodney King.
L.A. Noir demonstrates the complex tug-of-war between empowering police with tougher tactics and striking down such measures to allow individuals greater personal freedoms. What techniques were considered appropriate and inappropriate by society and towards what segment of the population? In the 20s and 30s, "rousting," or continually arresting target groups as a form of short-term harassment was considered unlawful even when practiced against professional criminals such as run runners yet likely continues to this day as a legitimate tactic. The knowledge of how to use some technologies (like wiretapping) grew quickly and the regulation of its appropriate use as a police tool lagged for years.
Always returning to Parker, the humourless hardass, the commie-paranoid honky, the staunchest anti-corruption cop on record, Buntin's narrative takes many on-topic detours. The principle detour is that of the life of Mickey Cohen. Buntin purposefully twinned colourful gangster's life story with that of the LA Police Chief Parker to give his story an antagonist. Cohen's life, unknown to me, was continually surprising and highly entertaining. I stopped tallying the number of hot-water heaters obsessive-compulsive Cohen had installed in his temporary lodgings to accommodate his habit of multiple showers. How did this guy live so high off the hog for so long, a minor celebrity in his own right? So many details about him are hilarious and fascinating (and many were captured by screenwriter Ben Hecht over a series of interviews that grew into what seems to be a somewhat close personal relationship).
Despite its title, setting and its ability to churn up film imagery in the mind of the reader (for example, introducing real-life characters such as Nick "the Greek" Dandolos - a likely inspiration for Edward G Robinson's character in Smart Money), L.A. Noir doesn't delve into the entertainment industry until it's directly relevant to its theme of Parker's career arc. Parker was proficient in honing the tools of his trade - statistics was one of them - but he also came to recognize the benefit of good PR. In the 50s he partnered with the creators of Dragnet to see that the show came to act as the voice of the LAPD; certain episodes were even crafted to justify some of Parker's more questionable tactics.
No book has even drawn a clear line between an exotic noir backdrop and events my own lifetime - for me, Buntin's book has made his history of the LAPD resonant and relevant. The history of surveillance, wild and crazy southern preachers trying to convert Jewish gangsters-- OK, enough from me - just get out there and read this thing!
