“Edward Dunford, North of England Crime Correspondent; two days too fucking late.”

I’m writing this post while still riding the high of watching 1974, so pardon my use of superlatives.

Over the weekend, I read the first book in David Peace‘s Red Riding Quartet: “1974.” I only read sci-fi and noir (I honestly don’t see the point of reading anything else), and as far as noir goes, James Ellroy is the contemporary god of gods, but Peace is biting at his wing-tipped heels for sure. He’s blatantly influenced by Ellroy’s economical prose, but pushes the bleakness and social commentary to its most violent levels. And his use of the word “cunt” is the best I’ve ever read.

Julian Jarrold‘s 2009 adaption for the BBC is the first in a trilogy of Peace’s quartet and beautifully adapts the corrupt, ethical, and bloody world of Yorkshire, 1974.

The first episode of the trilogy features Sean Bean and Andrew Garfield. It focuses on a series of the unsolved murders of young girls. It is set in the year of the title. The story follows Eddie Dunford (Garfield), a young reporter from the “Yorkshire Post” as he tries to find information on the missing (presumed dead) girls. (SOURCE - because I don’t feel like writing a synopsis)

The overriding theme in noir has always been “You Can’t Win.” With that, the classic stories deal with the protagonist fighting tooth and nail against fate. 1974 doesn’t stray from this, and Eddie Dunford (Garfield) fights the twisted forces of authority in Yorkshire in his quest for the truth about the child murders. He mainly gets his balls crushed the entire time.

1974 is brutal. It’s unapologetic. It’s bleak and tastefully violent. It successfully examines the powerless who “really give a fuck.” And it’s one of the greatest crime films produced in the past decade.

I can’t wait to watch the other two.