Category Archives: book review

Review–Behind the Screen Door: Tales from the Hollywood Hills (2012)

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Behind the Screen Door is a collection of short stories that tell of Richard Gregson’s rise in his career as an agent in the film industry. From humble beginnings as a sales clerk in a religious bookstore, Gregson became one of the most influential agents in Hollywood. Although he was married to the famous Natalie Wood, and often spent time in the company of Hollywood “A-listers,” Gregson maintained a humble attitude, often feeling like an outsider in the company of the rich and famous.

One of my favorite stories from the book is his explanation of the first time he met Frank Sinatra. Although Gregson had already struck deals with some of the biggest names in the film industry, he admits how nervous he was to meet Old Blue Eyes, and illustrated what an affectionate and generous man Sinatra was to his friends. He was genuinely shocked when Sinatra provided his private jet, and seemingly flattered when Frank insisted on calling him “Richie.” In another of his fascinating tales, Gregson explained how he came to be Robert Redford’s agent, even though he had never before been an agent to an actor. What surprised me about these stories was how often Gregson’s clients would invite him to stay at their homes and get to know their families. I’ve always imagined such a business relationship to be very formal; however, clearly Gregson held a personal relationship with each of his clients. This personal relationship is what makes his stories about these big names so intriguing. He tells stories of Joe Mankiewicz’s feelings of insecurity after the failure of Cleopatra (1963). He tells stories of his own feelings of insecurity when introducing Natalie to his alcohol-abusing father. Not only are the stories interesting as an account of the behind-the-scenes negotiations which produced many of our favorite films, but they are told from an intensely personal point of view.

Admittedly, I began reading this piece with skepticism. I’ve read memoirs in the past that gave the impression that the author was simply trying to impress the reader by listing  names of celebrities that he/she has come into contact with. Even though Gregson does share stories of his time spent with major celebrities, this work is different. Gregson maintains a fairly humbled perspective. He makes himself vulnerable to the reader by sharing stories about his inexperience and insecurities, and that makes this memoir surprisingly refreshing. However, although the stories are entertaining, this book is in need of some slight editing. I will admit, as a composition instructor, I’m probably more picky than most. Still, these minor errors do not cause the writing to be confusing; they are merely minor annoyances in an otherwise enjoyable book.

 

Rating: 3.5 out of 5

Bottom line: Behind the Screen Door offers an interesting insight into the negotiations and private lives of some of Hollywood’s greatest classic film stars, directors, writers, and producers. This collection is recommended for fans of classic film and Hollywood history.

Behind the Screen Door is available for digital download through Amazon Kindle.

[Disclosure: True Classics thanks Patricia Carswell for providing a digital copy of this book for the purposes of this review.]

Book Review: Ten-a-Week Steale (2012)

Posted on by under book review, private eyes are watching you

Gun-for-hire Walter Steale, a world-weary veteran of World War I, finds himself in the middle of a political quagmire when his brother, Sam, the lieutenant governor of California, asks him to exert some muscle on behalf of his boss, Governor Edwin Davies. But when the man he’d muscled ends up dead, Steale must go on the run, hiding from the authorities and the political gamesmen who hope to use him to further their own ambitions. His only allies: a gubernatorial hopeful with secrets of his own, and a Hollywood starlet who uses her immense charms to help the detective crack the case. But will they unravel the plot before Steale’s number is up?

In Ten-a-Week Steale (Solstice Publishing, 2012), author/actor Stephen Jared‘s second novel (after 2010′s Jack and the Jungle Lion), silent-era Hollywood is enticingly reconstructed with a post-World War I “noirish” flair–a city that is, by turns, glitzy and grimy, showing its best and its worst in one fell swoop. The world-building here is impressive in its scope–it is obvious that Jared has done copious amounts of research in creating these settings, which are described in great detail throughout the novel. The rich backdrop sets the stage for an exciting–and violent–series of events as Steale delves into the mystery behind his frame-up.

The strongest element of the novel is, without a doubt, its appealing and fully-realized protagonist. Similar to anti-heroic literary ancestors such as Sam Spade and Philip Marlowe, Walter Steale is not exactly what one might call “likeable.” Yet, despite this, we are drawn to the kind of bad-boy sexiness at the heart of the character, and we innately understand why Ginny is drawn to him. He is rough-edged, guided by emotions and cold calculation in equal measure–clever and resourceful, but flawed by hubris and a sense of discontent with the world at large. He is a rich character in a land ready-made for rich characters–set across the backdrop of silent-era Hollywood, Steale is as appealing a figure as any dreamed up by the movie dream factories. If only the other characters populating the story were as judiciously drawn! There is no lack of intriguing characters, but none are so thoroughly portrayed as Walter Steale, and this makes investing in other figures in the story a bit of a difficult task.  This would be more acceptable were the story told solely from Walter’s point of view; however, the omniscient narration–marked by the frequent jumping between character perspectives–begs for fuller character development.

Though I thoroughly enjoyed the plot and the machinations of the main character, I was left with the feeling that something was missing. The ending feels a little lacking; I was mainly disappointed in the lack of resolution in the relationship between Steale and the police chief, Heath, who had an uneasy yet intriguing rapport in earlier chapters that I would have enjoyed revisiting in the final chapter. Part of that sense of incompleteness also comes from construction issues throughout the book, for ultimately what Ten-A-Week Steale needs, more than anything, is a good editor. It’s not just issues of grammar and spelling, even though there are some noticeable typographical errors sprinkled throughout the books (repeated misspellings of the word “chauffeur,” for instance). But there are also some problems with pacing, particularly in the first few chapters (which have an almost scatter-shot feel to them), and instances of stilted language in some scenes that distract from the action on the page. Furthermore, the transitions from one scene to the next are sometimes startlingly abrupt, resulting in a kind of staccato forward movement of the plot. Again, however, it’s important to note that this is much more prevalent in the first part of the novel; thankfully, as Jared brings the story to its endgame, it finds its rhythm and begins to flow quite well, and quite easily.

Rating: 3.5/5 stars

Bottom line: This Dashiell Hammett-lite detective story boasts an entertaining plot and a memorable anti-heroic protagonist. Despite some issues with character development and narrative construction sprinkled throughout the book, the novel finds a brisk and effective pace in the second half and winds down to a mostly satisfying conclusion. Recommended for fans of detective fiction and silent-era Hollywood.

[Disclosure: True Classics thanks author Stephen Jared for providing a copy of Ten-a-Week Steale for the purposes of this review.]

That’s another fine mess you’ve gotten us into.

Posted on by under book review, hahas, screwball legends

I recently received a copy of Saul Austerlitz’s Another Fine Mess: A History of American Film Comedy, which was released last month. It is, in a word, engrossing.

But a pithy, single-word review won’t do, will it? Nor is that single word sufficient, really, to explain to you how wonderful this compendium of film comedy truly is. Austerlitz manages to do something that would initially seem impossible: condensing the entire history of silver-screen yuks into a mere 500 pages, and doing it well.

Part retrospective, part dissection, and chock full of informed opinion, Another Fine Mess deftly examines the span of comedic film, beginning with its earliest purveyors of hilarity–Charlie Chaplin, Buster Keaton, and Harold Lloyd–and ending with a look at the state of comedy in modern cinema through the films of its most recent champions–Will Ferrell, Ben Stiller, and Judd Apatow, among others. From silent to screwball, subversive to subtle, glib to gross-out, Austerlitz covers it all with an analytical acumen and winking humor that makes for a highly appealing combination.

The book is broken into two parts: a series of in-depth chapters dedicated to a singular filmmaker or star, and a few dozen short notes that briefly address other actors, directors, and writers whose contributions to the world of film comedy cannot be overlooked. Arranged chronologically, Austerlitz traces the history of twentieth-century comedic cinema with informative glimpses of such stalwarts as the Marx Brothers, Cary Grant, Katharine Hepburn, Jerry Lewis, Peter Sellers, and Doris Day, and timeless directors such as Ernst Lubitsch, Preston Sturges, Billy Wilder, Mel Brooks, and Woody Allen.

The biographical portraits of each star are fascinating, but it’s the analysis of their various films that really makes this book more than just a mere encyclopedia of comedy. The author demonstrates a keen eye for even the most nuanced details of a particular film or performance, making for a highly informative read. Let’s just say that after reading this book, I have a new appreciation for (most of) the Eddie Murphy canon (except Norbit. Austerlitz tries to make a somewhat halfhearted case for this stinkfest, but I’m not biting).

As a classic movie fan, I take umbrage to a couple of Austerlitz’s assertions; after all, every one of us has his or her favorites, and the need to defend those favorites can be hard to suppress–as, for example, when I read the section on Wilder, in which Austerlitz refers to one of my favorite Wilder pictures, 1942′s The Major and the Minor, as “slight.” This elicited a rather loud, “WHAT??” and vigorous head-shaking (personally, I think characterizing Major as “slight” is short-sighted, considering the genius of the script–one of the funniest and most perverse of Wilder’s career, despite its latent saccharine tendencies).

One of the things I really appreciate about Austerlitz’s book is that he rarely dabbles in the salacious. Many classic movie fans are aware of the peccadilloes of some of Hollywood’s biggest stars–the allure of adultery, the stars who fought to maintain a closeted homosexual life, etc.–but instead of indulging in pointless retellings of classic Hollywood gossip, Austerlitz focuses on the things that crafted these performers and directors into the comedic forces they would eventually become, keeping their work–and the stories derived from that work–at the forefront of his narrative.

And if Austerlitz does not care for a particular star or film, he does not hold back his condescension. But for the most part, this lack of restraint is enjoyable as opposed to bothersome. His short note on the “comedic” milieu of Julia Roberts’ film career, for instance, is a master class in subtle snark, yet quite enjoyable nonetheless (though, admittedly, this is probably because I’ve never much cared for the actress either, and I dislike her signature film, Pretty Woman, with a passion that burns with the heat of a million suns. Prostitution in and of itself is not funny or romantic, and that’s not the kind of “happy ending” most of them end up with, people).

If I have a problem with the book, it’s not from Austerlitz’s work itself, which is, overall, impressive. But reading through this history of film comedy highlights the lack of female comedians and the dearth of minorities in memorable comedic roles. There are several comediennes who deserve their own chapters here (in my estimation, anyway): Jean Arthur, Barbara Stanwyck, Myrna Loy, and Carole Lombard, at the very least, deserve that kind of in-depth recognition, but each is instead relegated to her own short note in the second half of the book. And in the same vein, had I undertaken the gargantuan task of writing this book, I likely wouldn’t have devoted whole chapters to actors such as Dustin Hoffman and Ferrell myself. But any examination of film–be it comedy or drama, all-encompassing or a brief history thereof–is reliant on the author’s own perceptions, and Austerlitz is no exception. And thankfully, he acknowledges this–as the author states in his introduction, he merely aims to start the discussion, and debate is not only encouraged, but welcomed.

All things considered, if you’re looking for a good read on film history that’s informative and far from the same old boring, obtuse commentary, Another Fine Mess is just what you’ve been searching for. If you deem yourself a fan of film in general and comedy in particular, Austerlitz’s work is an education unto itself, and immensely entertaining to boot. I came away from reading Another Fine Mess with both a greater understanding of some of my favorite classic stars and a greater appreciation for the sheer bravado it took to put some of our most memorable comedies on the screen, then and now.

For an initial taste of Austerlitz’s commentary, check out his “Top Ten Great Film Comedies” guest post from earlier this week–and feel free to contribute to the discussion on the best films from each decade of Hollywood history!

True Classics would like to thank Saul Austerlitz and Anna Suknov of FSB Associates for making this review possible.

Spending some time in Maureen O’Hara’s world.

Posted on by under book review

Recently, on a whim, I picked up a copy of Maureen O’Hara’s 2004 autobiography, ‘Tis Herself (written with John Nicoletti). I’ve been on a bit of a nonfiction kick lately, and any day in which I can take some time to read about my favorite classic film stars … well, that’s just a damn good day.

In writing her memoirs, O’Hara holds nothing back–well, very little, anyway. From her marriages to her career, O’Hara relates the story of her life with a great deal of candor and not a little pride. It’s an interesting read, to say the least. O’Hara is a remarkable actress, but I never knew much about her back story. Reading her autobiography now is a delight–it is written in a straightforward, yet entertaining manner about her life before, during, and after the Hollywood spotlight had descended upon her, and the stories of her encounters with her fellow Golden Age stars are, by turns, hilarious, touching, and somewhat horrifying.

Some of the stories in the book are familiar–O’Hara’s longtime friendship with John Wayne, for example–but some are altogether startling, particularly her association with director John Ford (which receives a great deal of attention in the book). Ford, O’Hara’s fellow Irishman–as proud of his roots as she–frankly seems bipolar per O’Hara’s description; by her own account, Ford loved and hated her by equal measure, embracing her one moment and actually socking her in the jaw the next. O’Hara, who along with Wayne was one of Ford’s most frequent collaborators, recalls Ford with a mixture of disgust and fondness, and it seems almost strange that, considering the ways in which he reportedly wronged her–undermining her brother Jimmy’s burgeoning movie career (he acted under the name James Lilburn), telling the United States government that O’Hara was smuggling jewels from Mexico, etc.–that she could even write of him with an ounce of compassion and forgiveness. But, as O’Hara explains, she has written of Ford with the hope of coming to some understanding of his behavior, and she feels her task is complete:

“For years, I wondered why John Ford grew to hate me so much. I couldn’t understand what made him say and do so many terrible things to me. I realize now that he didn’t hate me at all. He loved me very much and even thought he was in love with me … as I conclude my thoughts on John Ford, I reaffirm my respect, admiration, and friendship for him by saying, ‘I love you too, Pappy.’”

Her fractious dealings with Walt Disney, however, do not reach as satisfying a conclusion. Though it was in O’Hara’s contract that she should be billed above anyone else, Hayley Mills was given top billing in 1961′s The Parent Trap. When O’Hara challenged Disney, he threatened to “destroy” her until she backed down. And in later years, O’Hara alleges, when she pitched the idea of turning one of her daughter’s favorite childhood books into a film, with herself in the leading role, Disney reportedly rejected the idea and, soon after, made Mary Poppins anyway … without O’Hara. Even while ill, Disney nursed his grudge; according to O’Hara’s agent, Helen Morgan, when O’Hara’s name was once brought up in conversation, Disney retorted, “That bitch.”

Regarding her marriages–the first of which was annulled after having never been consummated, the second of which ended in the wake of her husband’s alcoholism (and produced her only child, Bronwyn), and the third of which marked the happiest period of her life until her husband’s tragic death in a plane crash–O’Hara is perhaps the most forthcoming. Her descriptions of her marriages are unflinchingly sincere, especially the portrait of her horrible second husband, Will Price, upon whose suicide she could only say, “This is the happiest day of my life.”

But her descriptions of life on the movie sets and her anecdotes about stars ranging from Charles Laughton (who was a second father to O’Hara) to Rex Harrison (whom she loathed) are, quite simply, enthralling. And only the hardest hearts among us will not shed a tear or two as she describes her final days with Wayne.

A still from 1955's Lady Godiva of Coventry

The book is accompanied by a variety of publicity shots and candid photos of the star throughout her lifetime, highlighting the earthy, redheaded beauty that initially made her a star (and a cinematographer’s dream) in the earliest days of Technicolor.

O’Hara concludes her memoirs by addressing the reader:

“How will you fill your empty pages? I pray that all you young people, middle-aged people, and old people like me live each day and enjoy each day, and when God calls you, that you answer Him and go willingly. But leave your mark on the world, on your children and on all the people that you leave behind so that they will be brave and leave brave memories.”

Taking her own advice, O’Hara leaves the reader with a veritable volume of brave memories, highlighting so brilliantly the mark she herself has made.

Fascinating and memorable, O’Hara’s autobiography reveals a prideful, searingly dedicated woman who was determined to be the best in the world and, like any determined Irish lass, made it to the top in record time. If you have never had the chance to read it, I can tell you right now, it’s definitely worth a perusal.

Book Review: Movie Menus

Posted on by under book review, brandie's faves, viewin' vittles

For Christmas, my friend Erin (the heretofore referenced “number one reader”) decided to indulge both the classic film fan and the latent foodie in me, and thus gifted me with Francine Segan’s book Movie Menus: Recipes for Perfect Meals with Your Favorite Films. The result of years of research, Segan’s book provides updated, time-tested recipes inspired by some of the greatest films Hollywood has to offer. Most of the recipes are quite easy to prepare, and the menus range from delicious appetizers to succulent entrees and even some decadent-looking desserts.

Segan groups the recipes by genre–from ancient Greece and Egypt, through the Renaissance and Victorian eras, straight through the American war years and today, each chapter provides multiple dining options as well as a list of suggested movies to accompany each menu. Each chapter also offers an introduction to set up the genre/historical era and concludes with party-planning tips for setting a complementary dining scene for your prepared menu. And for the movie buff in all of us, the book is sprinkled with classic quotes befitting each recipe as well as fun trivia facts and movie stills from each genre.

For the first of what will be many recipes I tackle from this book, I decided to make one of the appetizers from the initial chapter, an herbed olive spread. Segan suggests this yummy treat could accompany such films as Spartacus, A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum, Ben-Hur, and Titus (though, thankfully, she does warn you to eat BEFORE watching this rather disturbing adaptation of Shakespeare’s play).

Herbed Olive Puree (serves 10)

Ingredients:
1/2 cup pitted whole oil-cured black olives
1/2 cup pitted whole brine-cured green olives
1/4 cup chopped onion
1/4 cup extra-virgin olive oil
1 garlic clove, minced
1 tsp fennel seed
1 tsp ground cumin
1 tsp ground coriander
1/4 cup minced fresh parsley, mint, and basil
grated zest of 1 lemon
6 pita breads, cut into quarters and warmed (or toasted baguette slices)

Directions:
Combine the olives, onion, olive oil, garlic, fennel seed, cumin, and coriander in a food processor and puree until smooth. Place in a small bowl, cover with plastic wrap, and allow the flavors to mingle at room temperature for at least 6 hours.

Stir well and top with the minced herbs and lemon zest. Serve with warm/toasted bread.

As you can see, I chose to leave the pimentos in the green olives (thus the tiny specks of red). Frankly, I have never found a green olive that DIDN’T have something stuffed in it–pimentos, garlic cloves, even jalapenos–and I didn’t feel like taking the little red devils out of each of those suckers. I don’t think it altered the intended taste at all (besides, you need a pop of color to counteract all that green!). In fact, I quite enjoyed this spread–it has a little bit of a kick from the cumin and fennel seed, and the mint and lemon add a nice counterpoint. This may be a little salty for some, but I found it to be delicious!

I could not find pita in my local store (go figure), so I chose to serve this spread with Old London Melba Snacks brand crackers (the sea salt variety). As I mentioned before, the spread is already salty because of the olives, so if you’re overly sensitive to salt (or trying to reduce your sodium intake) you might want to try a different flavor cracker.

**

Overall review: Exhaustively researched and impeccably presented, Movie Menus is a fun addition to both your classic movie memorabilia and your cookbook collection and, from my brief experience with the recipes thus far, a tasty one, too!

[Thanks, Erin! :) ]

Review: Leading Ladies and Leading Men

Posted on by under book review, tcm product review

A couple of years ago, as a Christmas gift from both my blog “partner in crime” and our lovely “number one reader” (you know who you are), I received two of TCM’s compilation coffee table books: Leading Ladies: The 50 Most Unforgettable Actresses of the Studio Era, and its counterpart, Leading Men: The 50 Most Unforgettable Actors of the Studio Era. These books are great conversation starters, as everyone has their own opinion about which stars really belong on such a list. But by no means are these books an exhaustive examination of studio-era talent … nor are they intended to be. Rather, these books serve as glossy introductory material for burgeoning classic movie fans looking for basic information about their favorite stars and their best-known roles.

The actors and actresses chosen for each book are not listed in any meritorious (ranking) order, but rather alphabetically, a structure with which I wholeheartedly agree. How impossible would it be to try to list the greatest actors and actresses of all time in order of perceived greatness? I mean, I know AFI’s attempted it, but don’t get me started on some of the whacked-out placements on their list. Judy Garland outranking Barbara Stanwyck and Jean Arthur (and Jean didn’t even crack AFI’s list … what the hell)??? Fred Astaire ranked above Gregory Peck and Gene Kelly? I mean, I love me some Fred (Judy, not so much), but still … give me a break.

While I agree with many of the choices included in both of these books, there are several notable missing figures in each. Particularly, The Leading Ladies compilation leaves out the talents of skilled actresses such as Joan Fontaine and Judy Holliday in favor of odd inclusions like Debbie Reynolds–much as I love her perky schtick in films such as Singin’ in the Rain and Bundle of Joy, her repertoire was rather slight–and Marion Davies, who was more infamous for her love affair with William Randolph Hearst (whose publicity machine really made her a star much more so than mere talent) rather than her relatively short resume. And the omission of Shirley Temple, the biggest star of the 1930s, is puzzling. Though Temple did not make an ultimately successful transition from child star to adult actress, her stature within that decade alone towers over some of her older contemporaries who did make the list.

And the Leading Men collection is woefully incomplete due to the inexplicable inclusion of figures such as John Gilbert and Rock Hudson (though I do love some of the latter’s romantic pairings with Doris Day) at the expense of dynamic film personalities like Tony Curtis, Walter Matthau (whose seemingly-constant film buddy, Jack Lemmon, was rightly included), and Orson Welles.

Despite these unconscionable (in my opinion) exclusions, these books provide some wonderful biographical sketches and rare photographs of each star, as well as fascinating trivia bits and screen captures from their various films. In addition, a complete filmography on each actor/actress is included in the back of each book. Plus, each book includes insightful introductions from both Robert Osbourne and film critic (and former co-host of TCM’s The Essentials) Molly Haskell.

All in all, if you’re a classic movie nut like me, these books are a must-have, if only for the gorgeous photographs included inside. At the very least, there are some enjoyable nuggets of film trivia that even the most rabid fans may not already know.

Note: A new edition in this series, Leading Couples: The Most Unforgettable Screen Romances of the Studio Era, was released last year, highlighting the most famous on-screen couplings in classic film.