This book…oh, this book. I took it out because I’m a mild noir enthusiast, and thought it would be an interesting examination of the “non-genre”. And it was; some sections were engrossing and interesting, packed with punch. But others were just DRY, and still others were hobbled with over-wrought prose. And some of the analyses seemed…a little off. Christopher liked tying the noir tropes to classical Greek tragedy, which was interesting, but he also seemed a little too in love with his own formulae, shoehorning films and characters in to places I didn’t think they fit. (Calling Verbal Kint in The Usual Suspects the film’s femme fatale? Really?) Overall, the book wasn’t bad, and I’m glad I read it because it rekindled my love of films noir. But I think there has to be a better book on the subject out there.