Amber Heard Redux
I mentioned Raymond Chandler in yesterday's post. and for whatever reason, I kept thinking about him all day. Then, late in the afternoon, the news broke that at minimum, it was physically impossible for Trump to have grabbed the steering wheel of the SUV (or whatever it was) in which he was riding on January 6, and by this morning, the headlines emerged that the Secret Service was prepared to testify under oath that Trump never assaulted the driver or the other agent as former aide Cassidy Hutchinson testified before the January 6 Committee. Then I realized that a stock figure in Hollywood noir from The Maltese Falcon to Chinatown is the pretty woman who tells lies. This is part of the secret deliciousness of the genre; women are portrayed as dishonest schemers, and it takes a disreputable but world-weary detective to penetrate the conventional wisdom and winkle out the truth, though the woman's attractiveness remains. Look at Sam Spade's final confrontation with Brig...