I've seen a lot of film adaptations of books over the years, but for the first time ever I decided to try the opposite. My justification for this was that I was in the Omaha airport waiting for my delayed flight in a tiny terminal and the book store had about four books to choose from. Three of these books were romance novels. Obviously not wanting to let the inevitable fat guy whose monstrous love handles would be suffocating me on my plane later know that I'm deeply moved by shacking up with the help I was forced to choose American Gangster, A Novelization Written By Max Allan Collins.
Before I grab my baton and whistle and start the hate parade I should note that I haven't seen the film. The book makes me want not want to see it, though.
I love me some mob stories and films. They're easily one of my favorite genres. But thanks to MAC Daddy that love has been temporarily and violently sucked from me. He takes a solid story and does the literary equivalent of finger painting on it. And then shitting on that. And then wrapping it up and giving it his grandmother for Christmas. Who then sells it so Universal who then sells it to me. Thanks, MAC.
Oh yeah, I was going somewhere with this. Don't buy the book. It blows.
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