If You Loved Sugar on Apple TV+: The Best Hard-Boiled Detective Fiction to Read Next

Apple TV+‘s Sugar (2024) gave Colin Farrell a role he seemed to have been waiting for: John Sugar, a private detective in Los Angeles, impeccably dressed, quietly devastating, searching for a missing girl while carrying a secret that reframes everything you thought you understood about what you were watching.

The show is in love with a tradition — the Los Angeles private detective novel, from Chandler through MacDonald through Ellroy — and it wears that love openly. If it drew you in, the books that built the genre are waiting.

Here is where to start.


Raymond Chandler — The Inventor

Philip Marlowe is the template. Everything that comes after — Sugar included — is in conversation with Chandler’s creation: the detective who moves through a corrupt city without being corrupted himself, who takes on cases because someone has to, who delivers observations about human nature in prose that reads like poetry about disappointment.

Start with: The Big Sleep (1939). Marlowe is hired to handle a blackmail problem for a wealthy, dying general, and the case becomes something much larger and stranger. The plot famously doesn’t fully resolve — Chandler himself couldn’t remember who killed one of the characters — but the plot was never the point.

The Long Goodbye (1953) is the other essential Chandler. Longer, more melancholy, about friendship and betrayal rather than corruption and violence. Many readers consider it his best novel. It is certainly his most personal.


Ross Macdonald — The Psychological Inheritor

Where Chandler’s Marlowe observes society from the outside, Ross Macdonald’s Lew Archer goes inside — into family dynamics, buried trauma, the crimes that compound across generations. Macdonald is the link between Chandler’s social criticism and the more psychological crime fiction that followed.

Start with: The Chill (1964) or The Underground Man (1971). Both are fully realised examples of what Macdonald does: a present crime that turns out to be the echo of something that happened years earlier, the solution requiring excavation of the past before the present can be understood.


James Ellroy — The Extremist

James Ellroy writes Los Angeles as an American inferno. His novels are dense, violent, morally complex beyond easy resolution, and absolutely committed to the idea that the history of post-war America is a history of crime. His prose style — compressed, staccato, eventually almost telegraphic — is unlike anything else in crime fiction.

Start with: The Black Dahlia (1987), the first of his LA Quartet. It takes the real 1947 murder of Elizabeth Short and uses it as the centre of a sprawling investigation into LAPD corruption. The darkness is extreme. The ambition is commensurate.

The LA Quartet in order: The Black Dahlia, The Big Nowhere, LA Confidential, White Jazz. LA Confidential — which became the 1997 film — is the series at its peak of sustained plotting.


Michael Connelly — The Contemporary Master

Michael Connelly is the writer who best carries the hard-boiled tradition into the present. His Harry Bosch — an LAPD detective, then a private investigator — operates in a Los Angeles that is recognisably descended from Chandler’s but updated for the realities of modern policing, cold case technology, and a city that has changed enormously since the 1940s.

Connelly’s Los Angeles is rendered with the same love and precision as Chandler’s, and his plotting is tighter. Start with The Black Echo (1992), Bosch’s first appearance.

The Bosch novels connect to Connelly’s other major series — Mickey Haller (The Lincoln Lawyer), Renée Ballard — and the full universe is mapped here.


What Sugar Specifically Does

Sugar’s specific texture — the solitary detective, the Los Angeles light, the missing woman case that becomes an excavation of something larger, the protagonist who knows more than he’s telling — is closest to Chandler and Macdonald rather than Ellroy’s maximalism. The show has Marlowe’s worldview (a clean man in a dirty world) and Archer’s method (dig until you hit the source).

The twist the show introduces in its midpoint is not part of the hard-boiled tradition — it is something the show adds — but the architecture around it is entirely classical. Sugar works as hard-boiled pastiche and as something stranger at the same time.


Reading List for Sugar Fans

If you want the elegance: Chandler. The Long Goodbye is the closest in tone to what Sugar is doing — a detective who cares about one particular case for reasons that aren’t strictly professional, in a city that keeps showing him its worst face.

If you want the psychology: Ross Macdonald. The Lew Archer novels are explicitly about how the past contaminates the present — which is Sugar’s secret theme before the twist makes it literal.

If you want the scale: Ellroy. The LA Quartet is an overwhelming experience — more violent, more historically specific, more formally ambitious than the show — but if Sugar’s love letter to Los Angeles resonated, Ellroy’s version of the same city is unmissable.

If you want something contemporary: Connelly’s Bosch. The most direct line from the classic private detective tradition to 21st-century crime fiction, operating in the same city with the same underlying conviction that someone has to care about the dead.


A Note on Los Angeles

What all of these writers share with Sugar is a relationship to Los Angeles that is specific to the private detective genre. LA is a city that was built on mythology — the movies, the sunshine, the reinvention — and hard-boiled fiction exists to show what the mythology conceals. The detective is the figure who moves between the surface and what’s underneath it, who sees both and belongs fully to neither.

That is what John Sugar is doing. It is what Philip Marlowe was doing in 1939. The genre is remarkably consistent in its obsessions — which is why it keeps producing stories worth telling.