I grew up watching film noir movies with my mother, a child of the ‘50s, who also grew up watching those same movies. You know the ones? The ones set in 1940s America, where there’s an endless sea of zoot suits and Lana Turner curly updos, with the private investigator who’s a tough, no-nonsense inner monologuing type hired by some “damsel” to take on a difficult case involving either murder, shady business dealings, missing persons, or a femme fatale (who usually turns out to be the “damsel”). I also grew up watching all things superhero, as most kids do. There’s something to be... Read More