Modesty Blaise got 99 problems but a good movie ain’t one.

It occurs to me today, in the middle of something else more pressing to do, that it’s totes unfair that three Modesty Blaise movies have been made, thus far, and each is some kind of stinker:

The particular genre dimension inhabited by normal-powered-but-exceptional spies, detectives, and crooks (many of them good crooks, secretly or Robin Hood-style or…) is littered, though, with great characters from great fiction or comics, similarly ill-served by movies – Fletch comes immediately to mind. And poor, poor Boston Blackie.

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