Douglas Skelton is a former journalist. He has written eleven acclaimed true crime and Scottish history books before making a splash on the Tartan crime fiction scene with his dark novel Blood City. Years spent researching Glasgow’s criminal underworld for newspapers and his non- fiction books have ensured his novels are packed with authentic details. His fourth novel, Open Wounds, was nominated for the 2016 McIlvanney Scottish Crime Book of the Year Award. His most recent novel is Tag You’re Dead.
Ahead of his appearance at Bloody Scotland Douglas Skelton chatted about the five DVDs he’d take with him if he was stuck on a desert island.
The Good, the Bad and the Ugly (Spain, 1966)
‘I’m a huge fan of westerns and, although not overly enamoured by the so–called spaghetti western genre (apart from the music), I am very fond of the Sergio Leone films. This one carries all the trademarks of his later work – big, loud, bags of style and sly humour. And, of course, there’s Morricone’s score.’
The Guard (Ireland 2012)
‘Proudly and defiantly profane, John Michael McDonough’s blackly humorous thriller is a sheer delight. Very much in the vein of his brother Martin’s classic ‘In Bruges’ – and sharing a star in the always wonderful Brendan Gleeson – this is pitch perfect and stands up to multiple viewings.’
The Three Musketeers/The Four Musketeers (Spain, 1973/74)
‘No, not cheating here – these were originally supposed to be one long epic but the producers released the footage in two parts, much to the annoyance of the cast who were paid for only one film. Director Richard Lester and screenwriter George MacDonald Fraser tapped into the humour of the novel, attracted an international roster of stars and mounted a sumptuous production. Funny to think the producers originally planned it as a vehicle for The Beatles.’
ZULU (South Africa, 1963)
‘Good old British grit was served up in this classic adventure along with a fine cast of well–known faces (Stanley Baker, Jack Hawkins, James Booth, the marvellous Nigel Green and, of course, Michael Caine), stunning location shoots, exciting battle scenes and a thunderous score from John Barry. ‘
The Ipcress File (UK, 1965)
Michael Caine (again), Nigel Green (again) and composer John Barry (again), this time competing against director Sydney J. Furie’s camera angles in a stylish adaptation of Len Deighton’s book. The agent is given a name – Harry Palmer – and a pair of glasses and an icon is born. Nicely chilly and downbeat. And let me mention Barry’s work again – twangy, evocative and so sixties.’