Prime Cut

Prime Cut, by Mike Roote
No month stated, 1973  Award Books

A big thanks to my man Marty McKee who sent me a DVDR of Prime Cut six or so years ago; I’d only just discovered the movie, it shames me to admit, and Marty hooked me up with a copy. And man, what a movie it is – I’d rate it at the very top of the list of ‘70s crime films (either it or Charley Varrick, another unjustly obscure one).

I saw that there was a novelization of the film, but didn’t pick it up, because it was by Mike Roote, pseudonym of veteran film novelist Leonore Fleischer. She also wrote the Enter The Dragon novelization, and from my years of Bruce Lee obsession (I even got married on the 29th anniversary of his death! Okay so it was a coincidence, but still!) I knew that Fleischer’s novel treatment wasn’t held in high regard. But I finally got it and I’m glad I did, because it appears that the Prime Cut novelization has recently gotten a bit too pricey on the used books market.

And I’m also glad to see I was wrong to dismiss Fleischer’s work without ever having read it myself, because simply put her Prime Cut novel is great. It captures the vibe of the grim, exploitative film perfectly while adding a few touches. In my reading experience I’ve found two kinds of film novelists: those who turn in what comes off like original novels and those who turn in near-transcriptions of the film, with only a few additions. Fleischer I would say is the latter type of novelist, with the caveat that her writing is strong, she adds a depth to the characters that film won’t allow, and her additions to the tale are not obtrusive. 

Years ago I checked out a book about Film tie-ins from Interlibrary Loan, the name of which escapes me, but I recall there was an interview with Fleischer in it. She stated that, like most film novelists, she either worked from an early draft of the script or a rough cut of the film, the latter usually in the presence of film critics who, Fleischer suspected, were laughing at her behind her back. She also shared the humorous story of how she once went to a screening of a Woody Allen film, one that featured a line poking fun at film novelizations, and she knew the critics around her were silently laughing at her.

In this case I’m betting Fleischer saw a cut of the film that was close to final, as there isn’t much different here than what you’d see in the actual movie. I guess this would’ve been a blessing in those pre-VHS, pre-cable days; if you wanted to remember a movie, you had to read the book. So in that regard her novelization is a success. But in this era of Blu Rays and DVD and etc, the modern reader hopes for a bit “more” in an old film novelization, the hint of missing and now lost scenes, or perhaps even an entirely different plotline, as was the case with the Rambo III novelization.

But that’s not the case here; the only “new stuff” I noticed was the occasional dip into the past of main character Nick Devlin, portrayed in the film by the ultimate tough guy Lee Marvin. Fleischer also develops – without outright describing – a longstanding grudge between Devlin and Mary Ann, sadistic Midwestern mobster memorably portrayed in the film by Gene Hackman. There’s also a part, which I wonder was filmed, where during the drive from Chicago to Kansas City Devlin’s limo passes a cattle car, and inside it Devlin thinks he sees a bunch of caged women instead of cows. He’ll later discover his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him.

I’m getting ahead of myself; anyone who has seen Prime Cut will know it’s one of the more exploitative movies to ever be released by a major studio. The plot’s about a hitman for the Irish mob being sent to Kansas to exterminate a dude who auctions sex slaves and who turns his enemies into sausage! To me, Prime Cut is the closest anyone’s ever come to capturing the lurid vibe of a Sharpshooter or Marksman novel. You could easily see “Nick Devlin” as being a stand-in for Johnny Rock, wiping out a particularly nasty Midwestern branch of the Mafia. He even uses pretty much the same weapons: a pair of Beretta 9mms and an M76 submachine gun he carries around in an attache case, similar to the weapons case Philip Magellan always lugs around.

The opening follows the film, even the entire credits sequence, which sees Mary Ann’s meat processing plant in action. Here Mary Ann’s muscle-bound moron of a brother, Weenie, temporarily handles the conveyor belt that propels freshly-killed cattle into the various rippers and choppers – just as a pair of human feet come into view, stashed in there with the cows. We follow the process until this unfortunate victim is turned, literally, into sausage links, and then mailed to Chicago.

Devlin’s intro is one of those parts where Fleischer is free to wax creative; it’s a bit more elaborate here, with an Irish mob boss pulling up to a bar in Chicago, going inside with his latest hotstuff babe, and scoping out a too-cool-for-words Devlin, who sits at the bar with his ever-present chaffeur-bodyguard, Shay. And also here Devlin is a bit more resistant when offered the job, however his interest is captured when he’s told he’ll finally get the chance to punch Mary Ann’s ticket. There’s also a bit more setup here – again without an actual explanation – of a woman named Clarabelle, who apparently was once Devlin’s but is now married to Mary Ann.

Again it’s clear Fleischer saw the film and transcribed it dutifully; even the long limo drive to Kansas City is featured, but here Fleischer takes the opportunity to dip in and out of Devlin’s thoughts. In the film he’s presented as a cipher, Lee Marvin’s badassery more than enough to bring the character to life. Fleischer captures that tough vibe in the novel, but augments it with Devlin’s occasional thoughts of his hardscrabble past and how he fought his way up in the Chicago mob. She also brings a little more to life Shay and the three young Chicago enforcers Devlin’s brought along.

More importantly, she greatly brings to life the grungy, white trash brothers Mary Ann and Weenie. She also implies there’s a bit “more” to their relationship, mostly conveyed via an impromptu wrestling match that is a bit more rough than necessary and features Mary Ann telling Weenie how much he loves him. Also Mary Ann as described is a bit brawnier than Gene Hackman, but I believe Fleischer has done this to convey a more threatening nature to the situation. I mean, Lee Marvin versus Gene Hackman?

Mary Ann’s slavery operation is also slightly more developed, with the additional sicko tidbit that he “owns” a bunch of little boys. The majority of the film and novel takes place during a county fair, and in the film we see a group of boys getting first place for their steer. In the novel we learn that these boys “belong” to Mary Ann, and presumably are part of the human beings he has “raised special,” same as the women he sells off for sex. This latter part is where all the exploitation comes in, with Sissy Spacek getting the main female role as Poppy, one of Mary Ann’s sex slaves.

Mary Ann’s intro follows the film, same as everything else, with a bit more elaboration. Devlin barges in on Mary Ann’s massive farm just as one of those sex-slave auctions is underway, “healthy Midwestern types” walking around and casually inspecting nude young women as they lay in an opium stupor in hay-covevered pens. This is also where Poppy is introduced, and Devlin takes her on “account” for the half-a-million Mary Ann owes Chicago. But also he takes her because he sees a spark in the doped girl’s eyes and feels something for her – this is an element Fleischer captures much better than in the film, where the relationship is harder to buy.

Fleischer here does add something new; in the film, Devlin wraps Poppy in a blanket and carries her into his hotel, telling the clerk to send up clothes for her. Fleischer gets a bit more outrageous, and I wonder if this was in the rough cut she watched, but I doubt it. Here, Devlin carries Poppy’s still-comatose form into the hotel clothing store, tells the lady behind the counter he wants clothes for her, and when asked for Poppy’s size Devlin merely takes off the blanket, displays Poppy’s nude body, and tells the lady to guess her size!

Given that Fleischer also dips into Poppy’s thoughts, the budding romance between the two characters is easier to buy than in the film. Here we learn that Poppy is young, like just out of her teen years, and grew up in an orphanage with other girls – an orphanage owned by Mary Ann which is run expressly for his slavery operation. Devlin is the first “real man” she’s ever seen, and he’s saved her to boot, so she’s instantly in love with him. Devlin for his part sees a totally innocent human being in Poppy, and this attracts him more than he could’ve expected. Plus she’s hot and all.

An interesting thing about Prime Cut, the film, is that it’s not overly sleazy, despite the subject matter. While Sissy Spacek gets fully nude, the camera does not dwell on her nor the other naked girls who are up for auction. And the violence is not overly bloody, despite the fact that characters are sometimes literally turned into hamburger. This I think adds an extra impact to the film, as it’s so professionally staged and shot – it’s like any other big budget crime film from a major studio, only with an horrific extra nature. Whether by accident or design, Fleischer’s writing follows suit: she does not exploit the nude bodies of the women, and Devlin-Poppy’s expected sex scene takes place off page. As for the violence, this is very much a “get shot and fall down” sort of novel; Fleischer doesn’t indulge in any gore.

As with the film Fleischer saves all the action for the final third. It begins with a visit to the fair, where Mary Ann has promised to give Devlin the money he seeks. Instead Mary Ann sends in a bunch of shotgun-toting blonde farmboys (more of Mary Ann’s oprhanage kids?) who try to blow away Devlin and comrades during a turkey shoot. This features the memorable “movie moment” of Devlin and Poppy being chased by a massive thresher, which ends up eating Devlin’s limo instead. 

The finale is even better, with an M76-toting Devlin and his surving comrades staging an assault on Mary Ann’s farm. However this scene is not as action-packed as in the film, and Devlin’s confrontation with Mary Ann and Weenie is a bit anticlimactic when compared to the movie. That being said, the end I think is handled a little better than in the film, where it’s made clear that Devlin and Poppy have freed the kids and young women in Mary Ann’s orphanage. We also get the implication that Poppy in her own way is as tough as Devlin.

I really enjoyed this novel. It’s well written, much better written than you might expect. Fleischer especially excels at capturing the bitter vibe of Devlin’s thoughts and impressions. While it’s pretty much exactly what you see in the film, and of course could never serve as a replacement for the film, it’s still an entertaining read, and adds a slight extra dimension to the story.