The simplest answer is that he’s Frank “Mac” McCullough, a masked vigilante—but that’s like saying the sun is a likely source of heat. A vigilante is someone who takes it upon themselves, without authorization, to pursue criminals and offenders. In The Bagman’s case, make that simply offenders. Yes, his morals are as elastic as they come, but what offends him more than anything is those who would prey upon the weak and helpless. It’s 1933, times are tough and the law’s not always on their side, but Mac is. The Bagman is more about saving the neighborhood than the world, but things change. Anything can, and, just might happen. And the combination of action, suspense, plans that work, harebrained schemes that don’t, and the end results are all far from predictable—kind of like life.
All this, because Mac is simply not that predictable either. He’s the kind of guy that doesn’t root for the good guy or the bad guy, because he’s too busy rooting for everybody —except the really bad guys. Sound confusing? It could be except for one thing—a justice so simple that only a mind like Mac’s could come up with it—when people do well, that’s justice. And those who would rob that opportunity from them, those that would manipulate, scheme, and steal, those that would use power to hurt, willfully—or even worse, unthinkingly—will be subject to the same. From City Hall to Skid Row, from the back alley to the boardroom, evil will face the wrath of The Bagman.
So, take one part one part pulp detective, one part gentleman burglar, two parts hired muscle, an athlete, half a torpedo, a jigger of confidence man, a twist of armed robber, cross breed with the Lone Ranger and Mac’s favorite pulp heroes of 1933, and you’ve got the beginnings of THE BAGMAN.
“Sometimes weird is just genius wrapped too tight.”