Mike Hammer, Kiss Me Deadly 

His name is Mike Hammer. Is there a harder name than that? The grouchiest, meanest, and grimiest of the detective fiction genre, a blunt force character to match author Mickey Spillane’s tight-lipped prose. Mike Hammer is the end of the line, you get what you pay for, down and dirty noir hero. His name is Mike fucking Hammer, and by the end of this story, everyone involved will probably be worse off. In addition to appearing in 13 novels, several movies, and two TV shows, Hammer is the perfect protagonist for the movie that brought film noir to its atomic ending, Kiss Me Deadly. Appropriately, he was the last one to go. His curiosity and desire for action and purpose unknowingly set the fuse to not just his demise but the entire world’s. You can’t imagine Spade or Marlowe in that spot. It’d be too heartbreaking. They’re too sensitive, too vulnerable. Always crying in their scotch. Mike Hammer, on the other hand? He can take it. [Matt Schimkowitz]

Slam Bradley (DC Comics)

(Image: DC Comics)

I’m fairly sure I’ve only ever read one actual comic featuring DC Comics detective Sam “Slam” Bradley: Darwyn Cooke’s delightful and beautiful 2004 throwback DC: The New Frontier, which pairs him with alien gumshoe The Martian Manhunter. But I’ve thought about his name a lot, because, honestly, how could you not? Slam Bradley! Say it softly, it’s almost like praying; say it loud, and there’s the sound of a million “BIF!’ “BAM!” “POW!” fistfights playing. As the original inhabitant of DC’s Detective Comics book before another, slightly more popular detective scooped it out from under him, this pre-Superman Joe Shuster and Jerry Siegel creation may not have had gadgets, ziplines, or a mask on his side. (Or a modern understanding of racial sensitivity, given how many of his early adventures reportedly trafficked in tired Yellow Peril stereotypes.) But what he did have was a name capable of taking bad guys down with sheer percussive force. Slam Bradley, baby! [William Hughes]

Gene Parmesan, Arrested Development 

Introducing Gene Parmesan, talking in a fake Italian accent to honor his last name, is a genius move. Martin Mull played the Bluths’ “far from the best” private eye only for a handful of episodes, but it was enough to turn Gene Parmesan into a legendary Arrested Development figure. He’s the kind of sleuth who clearly spends more time picking out his disguises than actually doing his job. But it’s worth it because it leads to the recurring gag of Lucille yelping in delight when she sees him dressed as a janitor, a doctor, in a bear costume, and as a firefighter. Arrested Development has some funky character names, from Bob Loblaw to Marky Bark, but Gene Parmesan allows the show to pull off yet another running gag: Sometimes, the Bluths are seen eating parmesan paired with, ugh, mustard, but it’s a reference to Mull starring in Clue as Colonel Mustard. Trust Arrested Development to insert a P.I. story with a cheesy joke that works. [Saloni Gajjar] 

Ty Lookwell, Lookwell 

It’s unfair to say that Conan O’Brien and Robert Smigel built Lookwell almost entirely out of the premise of this AVQ&A. Yet one of the too-funny-to-live pilot’s most reliable gags involves Adam West’s deluded actor Ty Lookwell being confused for other TV detectives of the past, both real (Banacek, Mannix) and imagined (Branagan, Bennigan). There’s an authentic ring to the name of his actual onscreen alter ego, Bannigan, but Ty himself has an only-in-primetime moniker that would look just right over a Mike Post theme and footage of a speeding car. (Or the parody of such in the opening credits of a single-camera comedy passed on by NBC in 1991.) It’s just the right fit for a guy so dense he confuses his time as a cut-rate Kojak for case-closing bona fides: In order to fulfill his self-appointed duties as amateur sleuth and guru to a gaggle of overly credulous acting students, he must, indeed “look well.” [Erik Adams]

Popeye Doyle, The French Connection

Don’t get me wrong. Gene Hackman is terrifying as Detective Popeye Doyle in The French Connection. I just struggle saying his name without so much as a little bit of a smirk, so I will never forget it. The fact that Hackman and director William Friedkin put the fear of God in a viewer over what this loose canon cop might do next is a testament to the staying power of The French Connection. Detective Popeye and Popeye The Sailor Man both share cartoonish displays of masculinity: animated Popeye through his muscles and tough guy bravado, Detective Popeye demonstrates this in a less family friendly way with his fondness for violence, racism, car chases, and intimidation. I know it’s the problem of watching too many cartoons, but imagine finding out the cop who doesn’t play by the rules investigating a case goes by the name of Popeye. Is his partner Goofy? [Monica Castillo]