A detective. A millionaire. A millionaire's wife. A mistress. Hijinks and tragedy ensue. Set in the late 1930s in Wayzata, a rural, resort suburb of Minneapolis, Detective Carroll LaRue has quit his badge, picked up stakes and put a haunted past in Hollywood behind him - that, and his fellow officers of the LAPD kept mistaking him for a perp. LaRue has exchanged hilltops and orange groves for a hardscrabble, hand-to-mouth existence in the blue-gray Midwest. Taking dirty pictures through windows, even if the people aren't movie stars? It might not be sexy, but it's a living. Wayzata pays homage - hell, it outright steals - from the Holy Trinity of pulp fiction writers: Raymond Chandler, Dashiell Hammett, and James V. Cain.
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Excellent homage to noir
- brian dullaghan