Book Review--Dorothy Arzner: Interviews

 

I originally requested a copy of Dorothy Arzner: Interviews with the intention of interviewing its editor, film professor and author Martin F. Norden for the Watching Classic Movies podcast. To my dismay, when I received the book I realized he had passed in 2023. While I will not have the pleasure of speaking with Mr. Norden, I’m happy to say that this well-curated collection of interviews is a fine closing act to a busy and productive career.

I’ve long admired the thoughtful eye of Dorothy Arzner as a filmmaker and found her intriguing as the only major female director at the studios in her era. In fact, she was one of very few women who directed at all from the rise of the talkies through the studio age. This collection presents a cool-headed, intelligent, and empathetic professional who found her way in a brutal industry. She rose in the ranks with the help of great privilege bolstered by her profound talent in several aspects of filmmaking that studio heads recognized as being excellent for their bottom line.

The bulk of the book consists of mid-career interviews, which seem to for the most part to capture the truth about Arzner, as they contain many similarities, but enough variation to suggest that she wasn’t retelling the same fabrication through the years. She spoke freely of her efficient, but emotionally resonant approach to her work.

Arzner is less revealing when it comes to her personal life and her views on being a female director. While any person is justified in desiring some privacy, the former is especially understandable, as her decades-long relationship with screenwriter Marion Morgan would have been up for unpleasant scrutiny at the time. As for the latter, Arzner was more forthcoming about the challenges of being a female director when she was retired, as can be seen in the post-career interviews that make up a smaller portion of the book, but even in these conversations, there is a feeling she’s still withholding, whether out of the desire to focus on her work or simply not wanting to deal with the issue.

The appendix contains Arzner’s unfinished memoirs, which she wrote in 1955, but abandoned in the midst of her descriptions of the early twenties. While much like in her interviews, she often seems reluctant to discuss her most personal views and details, she paints a fascinating picture of the times in which she lived.

Overall, it is easy to see why gender could never have kept Arzner from the director’s chair. After the great assist of having industry connections, she was simply too much of a force as a talent to be ignored, and brilliant at understanding how to navigate a man’s world. It’s clear that she was well-liked on the set, partly because of a collaborative spirit in which she felt that cast and crew at all levels should feel free to offer ideas. For the most part though, it seems to have been her calm demeanor, combined with the kind of artistic and technical ability that come from a steady rise to the top through several jobs in the field from typist and scenario writer to editor.

On more than one occasion Arzner makes it clear that she felt the mellow manner on the set was necessary as a woman, and that she could not get away with the megaphone toting antics of her male peers. However, her way of working mirrors many modern female directors, such as Ava du Vernay, and that method has proven to be popular with cast and crew members alike as the industry gradually evolves.

Dorothy Arzner: Interviews is of great importance for what it documents, despite the occasional reticence of its subject. It reveals an underrated film artist and innovator worthy of praise in those ways alone and only more remarkable because of her unique position as a female director.

 

Many thanks to University Press of Mississippi for providing a copy of the book for review.

 

Rest in Peace Martin F. Norden

Book Review--The Accidental Star: The Life and Films of Warner Baxter

The Accidental Star: The Life and Films of Warner Baxter 

Dan Van Neste 

BearManor Media, 2023 

Before picking up Dan Van Neste’s new biography of the prolific actor Warner Baxter, I didn’t know much about it. My first exposure to him was as the sickly musical director in 42nd Street (1933); the first time he charmed me was opposite Myrna Loy in Penthouse (1933), there were a handful of other performances I could remember, but I realized I knew nothing about Baxter himself. Van Neste’s book introduced me to a complex, thoroughly engaged man, with a life both blessed and turbulent. 

I always liked Baxter, but I didn’t know the scope of what he achieved. Not only did his career span three decades, but he found popular success throughout his career, from the silents to ‘B’ serials. Despite significant personal difficulties, he easily managed the transition from silents to sound, won the second Oscar for best actor, and was for many years one of the most beloved and wealthy stars in Hollywood. He also found the time for a fulfilling personal life, including over three decades of happy marriage to the actress Winifred Bryson and an astonishing array of social groups, charitable pursuits, and hobbies. 

While this remarkably humble and self-preserving man would never reach the career heights of Clark Gable, Cary Grant, and his friend and inspiration Ronald Coleman, his filmography is nevertheless an impressive one. He appeared in the first film version of The Great Gatsby (1926), the only adaptation made in the same decade the book was written, participated in the rebirth of the movie musical with 42nd Street and worked with some of the best directors of the studio age including Frank Capra, John Ford, and William Wellman, if not necessarily on their best films. He was able to find employment that pleased him until the end, emerging from a partial retirement to once again find great success in the 10-film Crime Doctor series. 

Baxter’s accomplishments are all the more impressive considering how much he suffered emotionally. It is never clear what mental illness afflicted him, though there are hints of social anxiety, depression, and bi-polar disorder, all categorized under “nervous breakdown” at the time. Somehow the actor didn’t let his problems destroy his career, likely a testament to the support he had in his marriage and the financial resources that gave him the ability to take long breaks for relaxation. That latter point is especially powerful, demonstrating that even in an age where his condition remained a mystery in many ways, simply having the resources to step away from work was life-changing. 

Van Neste has spoken with several of Baxter’s former co-workers and their memories reveal a kind man who was always willing to help others and never put on the airs of a star. He liked being a famous movie actor, but he seemed too interested in his life to make much of it. I was surprised and fascinated to learn about the rich, interesting life the man most famous for his pep talk to Ruby Keeler’s Peggy Sawyer had. 

Note--The book has an unusual structure: The first half is Baxter's biography, while the second contains a especially detailed filmography. I found it useful to have access to a lot of production details which would have been too numerous to include the telling of his story, but were interesting to know.

Many thanks to Dan Van Neste for providing a copy of the book for review.

Book Review--Strictly Dynamite: The Sensational Life of Lupe Vélez, by Eve Golden

Strictly Dynamite: The Sensational Life of Lupe Vélez 

Eve Golden 

University Press of Kentucky, 2023 

As a biographer, Eve Golden has a knack for clearing the fog around her subjects. In previous books about Jayne Mansfield, Jean Harlow, and John Gilbert, she dug for the truth behind the scandals that overshadowed these stars while also revealing the real person beyond the marquee. She does that once again for Lupe Vélez, a multi-talented, vivacious star who desperately needed a reputation adjustment. 

The Mexico-born Vélez was one of those people who was born to be seen. Her ability to delight audiences extended from the stage to the screen, though she never had the great films to match her talent. I’ve long appreciated Golden’s thorough research and respect for her subjects. She is dedicated to finding the truth while retaining a sense of fairness and decency. The humanity of her subject always appears to be top-of-mind. Here it is easy to see how Vélez got the reputation that she did, but that this flirtatious, outrageous, and temperamental woman was a lot more professional and grounded than rumor would have it. 

Vélez was a spitfire, and it is understandable why the seemingly effortless comedy of her Mexican Spitfire series brought her her greatest fame, but she was far from being only a fiery Latin stereotype. She was a strong dramatic actress, which she demonstrated in the early talkie Resurrection (1931), but studios and audiences didn’t wish to see her this way. As a result, Vélez often had more offers for work than she could accept, but rarely had the opportunity to show the full extent of her talents. 

While Vélez lived a vibrant life full of adventure, friends, lovers, and ultimately lasting prosperity, there’s always the feeling of what she really wants being out of reach. She can’t be alone or sit still and while that can be chalked up to personality in some respects, there’s also the impression that some of the restlessness comes from the constant struggle to reach her full potential professionally and personally. She knows her worth and she can’t degrade herself by settling. 

The book tells this story with a clear eye, aware of Vélez' flaws, but also revealing her strong work ethic, a common touch with almost entire lack of star attitude, and great intelligence in financial matters. It has an easy flow, with a few asides to fill out the big picture as far as the people in Vélez’ life and the times she lived in, but good overall pacing and focus. I love how Golden uses light humor and wry comments to give the narrative the feeling of a good conversation. She finds a solid balance between respect of the subject and a sort of lightness of tone that makes the story as entertaining as it is informative. 

And yes, she explains in full detail why Vélez couldn't have drowned in her toilet. This book rescues her reputation from the dismal gossip around the circumstances of her death, though ultimately it offers a story much richer than the rumors that have overwhelmed her legacy.

Many thanks to University Press of Kentucky for providing a copy of the book for review.

Book Review--But Have You Read the Book? 52 Literary Gems That Inspired Our Favorite Films

 

While the first films I saw as a child were book adaptations like The Wizard of OZ (1939) and Gone with the Wind (1939) it wasn’t until much later in life that I thought about what the process of adapting a written work to the big screen entailed. In her new book, But Have You Read the Book? 52 Literary Gems That Inspired Our Favorite Films, podcaster and entertainment writer Kristen Lopez brings a well-researched eye to that process. 

There are a lot of ways to approach describing the task and results of adaptation, but Lopez keeps it streamlined, picking the most prominent film where multiple versions of a story have been made and focusing most of her 52 entries on the differences between page and screen. She uses side bars to address some of those complicating factors, like other adaptations worth noting and bits of interesting, related trivia. The films stretch from 1931 to the present day and are diverse in theme, subject, and genre, though the focus is on Hollywood films. 

In the wake of the book’s release, there has been some online chatter about readers planning to tackle every book and film in, But Have You Read the Book? including some who are as ambitious to attempt an entry a week and finish every title in the book in a year. Fortunately that would be a pleasant task, because Lopez’ selections are all excellent films and novels, which of course is often not the case. 

The idea of exploring the source material along with a film adaptation has long been a popular one among film fans. Lopez has handled the task of translating this concept to the page with a light touch and thorough analysis. It’s an entertaining read in addition to being informative. 

Many thanks to TCM for providing a copy of the book for review.

Book Review--Grabtown Girl: Ava Gardner's North Carolina Childhood and Her Enduring Ties to Home

 

Grabtown Girl: Ava Gardner’s North Carolina Childhood and Her Enduring Ties to Home 

Doris Rollins Cannon 

Down Home Press, 2001 

When I had Ava Gardner Museum board member Lora Stocker as a guest on Watching Classic Movies podcast, she kindly sent a package of goodies from the gift shop afterwards. One of the items was Grabtown Girl: Ava Gardner’s North Carolina Childhood and Her Enduring Ties to Home. I’d read more than one book about Gardner, but I was intrigued by the idea of exploring her roots, because I think her pride in where she came from had a lot to do with her appeal. I also loved that it was a local publication, written by the chairman emeritus of the Museum. 

Based on interviews with family and friends of Gardner, it’s a bittersweet volume, because many of these people have passed since the publication of the book. It’s best looked upon as a sort of supplement to Gardner’s memoir (which is referred to here), filling in the blanks, getting to the truth of various stories, and providing a fuller perspective on a woman who was never especially impressed that she became a star. 

The first part of the book tells the story of Ava’s childhood through the eyes of those who knew her. Part two focuses on the years after she went to Hollywood through the lens of her contacts with home. There’s also a chapter devoted to the creation of the museum, in which Ava tries to visit it when it is closed and declines to get someone to open it up because she figured she’d lived it all herself. 

In essence, the book is a collection of anecdotes like that. Gardner never failed to charm, throughout her life, and there’s a lot of love for her here. Unlike many versions of her life story, she isn’t shown to be a miserable, poverty-stricken child. Of course there were lean years, but thanks to the work and care of her devoted mother and a strong family and community, she thrived as a child and didn’t lack anything she needed. I found it a heartwarming read, a brief one too at 142 pages, but there’s a lot to this slim book. Cannon was able to find a remarkable number of people to reminisce. 

When Lora asked me to record a tribute to Ava for the Museum’s celebration of her 100th birthday, a lot of what I had to say was backed up by Grabtown Girl, a tribute to a woman who found strength in her roots. 

Many thanks to Lora Stocker for providing a copy of the book for review.

Review: A trio of fascinating books about Marlene Dietrich

Marlene 

Marlene Dietrich 

2022 (originally published 1989) 

Marlene Dietrich: Photographs and Memories Compiled by Jean-Jacques Naudet 

Captions by Maria Riva 

with Werner Sudendorf 

2022 

Marlene Dietrich’s ABC’s: Wit, Wisdom, and Recipes 

Marlene Dietrich 

Updated Edition 2022 (originally published 1961)  

All from University Press of Kentucky 

It took me a while to decide what I had to say about the University Press of Kentucky’s release of a trio of books about Marlene Dietrich this year, one new, the others reissues. I got a bit hung up on finding the truth of the woman in these publications, when what I truly loved about them was that they communicated her essence, which simply put is what gave her star power. Together, they tell a varied story about a complex woman, revealing different facets about the always vocal star. 

For a more complete story, I suggest reading Maria Riva’s memoir of her mother, but these three books are each essential in their own way. 

As with any memoir, Marlene by Marlene Dietrich tells what the actress was willing to tell, embellished by how she would like to be. She writes in a dramatic, almost poetic fashion, which is similar in style to the song introductions she made when she toured as a singer later in life. 

Dietrich goes into detail about her childhood, her rise to fame, and seems to have been especially affected by her service as an entertainer for the troops during World War II. It's an interesting read and as a story of her life it presents her essence well. I think the truth can be pretty well divined in reading this and Riva’s memoir, but the point of the book is how fascinating it and its author can be.

Marlene Dietrich: Photographs and Memories is the new release of the bunch. It’s a gorgeous tribute to her aesthetic, which was a unique combination of the elegantly feminine and dapper masculine. An introduction provides context for the images to follow, and captions by Maria Riva lend a richness to the images, which consist of a healthy helping of classic Dietrich photos and color pics of several of her dresses and accessories. The garments are a marvel of style and construction and a visual treat for any fan of fashion.

I was most excited to finally read Marlene Dietrich’s ABC’s: Wit, Wisdom, and Recipes. This book is far more revealing than Dietrich’s memoir. It shows the actress was truly the devoted hausfrau she was rumored to be, deeply respectful of the workers who supported her in her craft, and generally kind at heart, though with a bit of vinegar she doesn’t always try to conceal. The extent of her enormous love for herself is rare to see even in a star; she knew her value and wasn’t afraid to speak about it. For that reason, this is an enormously entertaining book. 

While my excitement over finally reading the ABC’s gives that book an edge in my mind, I can’t say which of these publications I find most essential. Overall, it’s a matter of taste and what aspects of the star the reader finds most intriguing. The full picture here is that Dietrich worked in a profession of artifice but enjoyed a life with down-to-earth pursuits as much as the glamour, maybe even more so. Individually and combined, they present the legend well. 

Many thanks to University Press of Kentucky for providing copies of the books for review.

Video Book Review (w/Transcript)--TCM Underground: 50 Must-See Films from the World of Classic Cult and Late-Night Cinema

I had a great time making this video review of one of my favorite books of the year. There were so many wonderful surprises in TCM Underground: 50 Must-See Films from the World of Classic Cult and Late-Night Cinema. It is a well-written, loving tribute. If you'd rather read the review than watch it, there's a transcript below

   

Transcript: 

What makes a film “cult”? Why do cult films matter? These are questions of never-ending interest to me and I recently got a little more clarification about it from a great new book. 

 There are several things to love about TCM Underground: 50 Must-See Films from the World of Classic Cult and Late-Night Cinema. It’s a varied and entertaining book, perhaps more varied than you’d expect a book of this nature to be. It’s not your typical cult movie tome. 

Based on choices from Turner Classic Movies’ long-running Underground program, there’s a lot of knowledge and excitement about unusual and unconventional cinema to be found here. This is the first book about cult film I’ve read that was written by women. Millie de Chirico is a long-time TCM programmer and is best known for programming for the Underground and serving as host of the channel’s Slumberground YouTube series. She’s also cohost of the I Saw What You Did Podcast, and I enjoyed having her as my guest on the Watching Classic Movies podcast. Quatoyia Murry is a writer and will be a familiar face to viewers of Slumberground as she has made several appearances on the show. 

While de Chirico and Murry split duties on selecting and writing about films for the book, the entries are not marked by author. They are so similar in thinking and style that I wasn’t able to tell who wrote about which film unless I knew previously about a certain favorite (yes, Millie definitely wrote about Elizabeth Taylor in Secret Ceremony). 

The movies are divided into five appropriately rebellious categories: It’s Crime Time, Domestic Disturbances, Fright Club, Rebellion and Youth Movements, and the bizarre topper: Visual Delights and Other Strange Mind Melters which describes a lot of cult films. 

While there are plenty of titles here that will be familiar to cult film fans, there’s also a lot of unusual, lesser-known choices, including several movies that I’d never even heard of, let alone watched. I loved the resulting variety, which, while it certainly included what would generally be considered best-of cult favorites, was also full of personal choices. As a result, I felt more invested in this book. There’s an honesty to the choices because they come from a true love for the films and it gave me more trust in the new-to-me titles. 

I loved the book’s forward by Patton Oswalt. What a perfect choice, Oswalt’s own book about his love for movies, Silver Screen Fiend would be a perfect companion to this one. He writes about cult films, “creating a tiny space of worship and adulation” and I agree that this is one of the important qualities that unifies all movies of this nature. 

De Chirico and Murry also take that almost reverential tone. They respect these wild cinematic journeys. There’s no “so-bad-it’s-good” mockery. And that makes sense, because if a movie is entertaining enough to draw a cult following and inspire several rewatches, then it may not be conventionally good, but it is good. 

I found even the entries from familiar films to be interesting, because going beyond plot descriptions and analysis, each selection is put in perspective according to its time. You get an idea of how different movies challenged perceptions, pushed boundaries, and brought new ideas to the world into which they were released. That can be good to know, because when a movie is familiar or is early in countering ideas that have long since changed with the times, we can start to take it for granted. There’s always a feeling that the authors are explaining why a choice matters. 

I found the sidebars in the book to be useful. They expand your understanding of the choices in a variety of ways, so that you end up with a lot more than 50 films to consider. They come in a few general categories: OMG Moments, a Spotlight On section about a specific actor or filmmaker, Genre-ly Speaking which includes titles related to the entry for more viewing ideas, so you can check out more Canuxploitation for example. 

If you are familiar with any of the books TCM has published in partnership with Running Press, you’ll recognize the format here. Basically, design is handled with as much care as content. There are lots of film stills and movie posters and the layout feels cult without straining to be hip, which is good, because trying to be cool is extremely uncool. 

A small word of warning, I did notice a plot detail that had I seen it before I watched the film, it would have changed my experience in a significant way. Though I can’t recall seeing any others, I wondered if there were some I had missed. It isn’t a big issue, and I think the authors meant to be careful of spoilers, but tread carefully if that is something that matters to you. And I say that as someone who generally doesn’t worry about spoilers because I am usually more interested in the way things happen than the specific twists and turns of the plot. 

This was one of my most highly anticipated books of the year, so I thought I would enjoy it, but it exceeded my expectations. There’s such a high level of care here in choice and execution, a feeling that the authors wanted to make sure every film, star, and filmmaker got due respect. I was also stunned by how much I expanded my to-watch list. I realized how narrowly I had been defining what makes a film cult. In some respects the idea of what fits that category has become the most deadly thing of all: conventional. These choices pushed boundaries just like the films themselves and I appreciated that. 

 Reels/TikToks I have made about films in the book: 

 Ganja & Hess (1973)

Olivia Newton John 

Head (1968)

Funeral Parade of Roses (1969)

Book Review--Danger on the Silver Screen: 50 Films Celebrating Cinema's Greatest Stunts

 

Danger on the Silver Screen: 50 Films Celebrating Cinema’s Greatest Stunts 

Scott McGee 

TCM/Running Press, 2022 

I could only read Danger on the Silver Screen: 50 Films Celebrating Cinema’s Greatest Stunts In short bursts, because I got so tense. In his new book Scott McGee goes into great detail in describing the process and experience of preparing and performing screen stunts and it is suspenseful reading. The unwritten qualifier here is that this collection of “Cinema’s Greatest Stunts” is from Hollywood productions, so while there are international stars in the mix, the films are all from the USA. 

One of the most surprising things I learn from Danger on the Silver Screen is that while stunt work is incredibly dangerous, many performers not only survived, but continued to work as stunt advisors and second unit directors well into their senior years. When you think of legendary performers like Yakima Canutt surviving all the bumps and breaks to inspire and guide new generations, it's clear that it is a profession not of recklessness, but of careful planning best led by experts who have been there. 

I loved the variety of genres covered. No stunt book would be complete without featuring silent film comics Buster Keaton and Harold Lloyd, both of whom performed work as dangerous as actors more famous for derring do like Douglas Fairbanks. 

It was also interesting to see how stunts have developed over the years, with the insight of industry veterans, and the bravery of stars like Keanu Reeves, Charlize Theron, and Tom Cruise who are dedicated to doing as much of their own stunt work as possible. I was encouraged to realize so many filmmakers want real action no matter how much CGI has advanced. 

The book includes good selection of films because rather than being intended as a collection of the best stunt films (though many of the best are included), it offers a diverse view of the kinds of stunts that have successfully emerged in cinema. I liked how McGee would mention obscure related films in several of the entries; it would have been great to see a couple of them in the list of fifty since they would likely be new to many readers. While I had seen all of the fifty films on the list, I came away with a long list of those other films mentioned to watch. 

Overall I’m becoming a big fan of the books TCM releases. They’re gorgeous to look at, but there’s also a lot of substance. I also like the warmth of the various writing styles; rather than having a dry standard template, there’s always a personal feel to the text. 

Many thanks to TCM and Running Press for providing a copy of the book for review.

Book Review--Pleading the Blood: Bill Gunn's Ganja & Hess

 

Pleading the Blood: Bill Gunn’s Ganja & Hess

Christopher Sieving 

Indiana University Press, 2022 

The career of actor, writer, and director Bill Gunn is a bittersweet story. While the things he accomplished were impressive, he could have done much more. In a new book, Pleading The Blood: Bill Gunn's Ganja & Hess, Christopher Sieving tells the story of this uniquely talented filmmaker and his greatest film, the vampire/addiction horror drama Ganja & Hess (1973). 

As a longtime fan of Gunn, and Ganja & Hess in particular, I was grateful for this thoughtful and thorough approach to his work. While effective as a monograph of the film, the book also serves well as a biography of Gunn. It was fascinating to learn about his childhood as a prodigy and social outsider, which foreshadows the many ways in which this filmmaker would struggle to find his place in the world. I also found it helpful to get an overview of his career, which enabled me to properly place Ganja & Hess as both Gunn’s greatest success and most profound disappointment. 

Aside from the clear road blocks Gunn encountered due to his race (and his resistance to restricting his output to supposed “black issues”), he had an unusual sensibility that alone would have made it difficult for him to find a place in popular culture. His first and frustratingly unavailable film Stop! (1970) is a good example of this. Mysterious and unconventional, but with a strong voice; it is a valuable piece of work, but not easily accessible (both physically and intellectually, it has never seen release in theaters or on video). 

If this kind of film were to find even moderate success with a major such as Warner Bros. (which hired Gunn to make Stop!, but then buried the film), perhaps it could have heralded an acceptance in the United States of the kind of unconventional European-style art film that Gunn found inspirational. In essence, it is a film for grown-ups, one that doesn’t giggle at sex, thoughtful conversation, or challenging ideas. Gunn would go on in the same mode while filming Ganja & Hess, capturing characters that don’t hesitate to embrace their desires or ask hard questions. 

Sieving explores the many ways Gunn struggled to find funding and acceptance of his work. He spotlights his frustration and anger, which are in contrast to his generosity as a filmmaker to cast and crew. A brilliant collaborator and mentor, Gunn couldn’t find that same spirit of trust and support when it came to investors and studios, not to mention the mainstream press. 

It’s a revealing book, full of triumph and disappointment, with a strong message that we could have and still need to do much better as a society in supporting a diverse array of adventurous artists if we are to get the best our culture has to offer. 

Many thanks to Indiana University Press for providing a copy of the book for review.

Book Review--Alicia Malone's Latest, Girls on Film: Lessons from a Life of Watching Women in the Movies

 

Girls on Film: Lessons from a Life of Watching Women in Movies 

Alicia Malone 

Mango Publishing, 2022 

I was delighted to see Alicia Malone had published her third book, Girls on Film: Lessons from a Life of Watching Women in Movies, because I’m a big fan of her writing. Her straightforward, clear style appears simple, but it takes a lot of skill to communicate in such a direct, thorough fashion. 

This time Malone has gotten personal, weaving a memoir into two things that have driven her life: the movies and how women are portrayed in them. I’ve read a few memoirs built around movie-watching, but never one that is so focused on a particular theme. 

Malone has always been inclusive in her writing about film and aware that it is important to draw attention to underseen players in cinema, be they women, people of color, trans and non-binary artists, or other less appreciated and spotlighted populations. Here she draws her own perspective into that issue, admitting that she, like many accepted a cinematic world centered on white, cis, straight men for several years of her film fandom. 

While unpacking her growing understanding of cinema and who and what makes it magical and meaningful Malone focuses on the movies that molded her and the issues most relevant to each title. Chapters are named for an interesting selection of films including Gentlemen Prefer Blondes (1953), Smooth Talk (1985), and Mad Love (the Drew Barrymore film, 1995). The movies are essentially a starting point for a fascinating series of reflections on personal, political, and societal issues, interwoven with a deep passion for cinema. 

Having met many introverted film fans over years of attending the TCM Classic Film Festival, I feel confident that a lot of readers will cringe in recognition, and conversely feel a glow of delight, in the experiences Malone has to share. Many of us have felt the awkwardness of learning about too many life experiences via the often unreliable lens of cinema, of spending a sunny day inside watching movies, and of trying to share that love with a world that generally just doesn’t get classic films. We’ve also found escape, enlightenment, and never ending fascination via our cinematic obsessions. She may be more ambitious, glamorous, and focused than the typical film fan, but Alicia Malone is definitely one of us. 

I’ve often felt frustrated that there are not more celebrated female film critics at the level of Siskel, Ebert, Maltin, and the like. In reading this book I realized that Alicia Malone has everything required to deserve that kind of status. I don’t feel there is yet the societal will to properly elevate and celebrate a woman of her intelligence and insight as a thoughtful authority on film (I hope I am wrong), but she has the goods.

Many thanks to Mango Publishing for providing a copy of the book for review.

Film Biography Paperback Round-up: Michael Curtiz, Anna Held, Kay Kendall, and William Wellman

I spent a lot of my reading time over the past year catching up on paperback editions of biographies I had missed when they came out in hardback. All of these biographies came from my favorite publisher, University Press of Kentucky. I love the titles they put out dearly, but it is impossible to keep up with all the good things they publish, so I was grateful for a second chance to review these books:

Wild Bill Wellman: Hollywood Rebel 

William Wellman, Jr. 

The best thing about this loving, but clear-eyed biography of director Wellman, by his namesake and one of his seven children, is that it is exciting from the first page. The nickname Wild Bill was apt. From his eventful childhood and peril-filled World War I pilot days to his long, magnificent career as one of the most successful film directors of the studio age, the filmmaker never had a dull moment in his life and despite caring little what people thought of him, he made more friends than enemies. He helmed an astonishing number of classic films, including Wings (1927), The Public Enemy (1931), A Star is Born (1937), and the Ox-Bow Incident (1942). Wellman also gave a break to a wide array of talent, with Ida Lupino, Rosalind Russell, Robert Mitchum, Timothy Carey, and Clint Eastwood among the young, hungry actors in which he saw star power. He appreciated his actors and crew and always stood up for him. While he had a bad habit of using his fists to deal with conflict and frustration, he’d often use that fury in their defense. His is an epic story, told here with a personal touch and the added insight of those who knew him.

The Brief, Madcap Life of Kay Kendall 

Eve Golden 

Kay Kendall is probably best known to American audiences for her breathlessly chaotic performance in The Reluctant Debutante (1958) and a scene-stealing turn in Les Girls (1957). She would not live long after making those films, succumbing to leukemia in 1959. Her thirty-two years of life were astonishingly robust and packed with activity as if she knew her time was limited. Eve Golden taps into the endless energy and determination of this woman who needed very little time to make a lasting impression. It’s a bit like reading the script of a screwball comedy, with the notable exception of a tragic death scene. Still, the overall tone here is cheerful, reflecting a woman who would never dream of sitting still or indulging in self-pity. A great tribute to a uniquely charismatic talent.

Anna Held and the Birth of Ziegfeld’s Broadway 

Eve Golden 

The story of Polish-stage sensation Anna Held is remarkable because it both reveals a dramatically different time and the way fame has remained in many ways the same over the years. Golden’s exploration of the way rumor and promotional gimmicks both helped and hindered Held brings to mind many a scandal from the age of the Internet. Many film fans know Held from Luise Rainer’s Oscar-winning performance in The Great Ziegfeld (1936). As mesmerizing as Rainer was, Held was a much more substantial person, who balanced her knack for drawing adoring crowds with professional savvy, emotional wisdom, and a generosity of spirit, which she showed especially in the World War I years as she bravely traveled to frontlines to perform for French soldiers. She kept an eye on trends and did her best to advance with the times, as much as her core act was of a particular era. That intelligence is very much behind the success her common-law husband Florenz Ziegfeld had as an innovative stage pioneer. Golden gives the actress her proper due as a chief influencer in the way Ziegfeld dramatically changed stage entertainment.

Michael Curtiz 

Alan K. Rode 

It seems that plenty of people respected Michael Curtiz’ technical skill as a filmmaker, but no one liked him. At best the insensitive and crude director had the respect of his co-workers. These personality defects are only part of the fascinating aspects of a life story that covers a phenomenal career spanning silent films in Europe to the early years of sixties Hollywood. Curtiz is most celebrated for Casablanca (1942), and for good reason, but I most enjoy the movies he made in the pre-code era and the tales of their production are just as lively as the end result. 

Many thanks to University Press of Kentucky for providing copies of the books for review.

Book Review--Charles Boyer: The French Lover

 

Charles Boyer: The French Lover 

John Baxter 

University Press of Kentucky, 2021 

I love Charles Boyer. Several of his films are among my favorites. He’s one of those actors who knows how to deliver, whatever the quality of the role or film. Despite this, I’ve never thought much about him. That’s why I enjoyed John Baxter’s new biography of the French actor, which digs about as deep as possible into the life of this mysterious man. 

Why hasn’t Boyer seen a revival or lasting widespread interest in his career? Baxter pins that on lack of advocacy. An only child, with only one son who pre-deceased him, there simply wasn’t someone close to the actor to boost his work over the years. 

That’s a shame, because Boyer pulled off an unusually diverse career. In a rare feat, he moved between Hollywood and Europe throughout his career, making bonafide classics in all the great film industries of the Western world, in addition to finding success on both Broadway and West End stages, radio, television, and even as a recording artist. It is a little astonishing that the work alone hasn’t elevated him more in classic film circles when it includes titles like Mayerling (1936), Gaslight (1944), The Earrings of Madame de… (1953), and Love Affair (1939), and that’s only the cream of a rich, enduring career. 

While his acting life was not without its challenges, there’s a certain smoothness to Boyer’s career. His success almost feels inevitable. While it took him a while to find his stride, he steadily moved from a childhood in the peaceful community of Figeac to the theatre and films. He had a knack for making the right connections and understanding how to overcome his flaws. There was luck, but also a steady push towards his goals. Part of that success comes from his adaptability; when films didn’t work, he turned to the stage, when television arrived, he not only accepted the medium, but became a producer and made a fortune. 

In fact, most of Boyer’s life story feels steady. There are plenty of successes, but there’s never one breakout moment where he finds stardom, but rather a deliberate, but certain progression towards fame, acclaim, and wealth. The same can be said for his friendships and his community involvement. He had a remarkable amount of control over his life, from the shape of his career to his relationships, including an enduring marriage to his wife Pat. 

The one place where Boyer faltered was with his son Michael. He and Pat never found space in their lives for their only child. Left to his own devices, with more wealth than parental involvement at his disposal, the younger Boyer never found his place in life and eventually committed suicide. 

Boyer would follow the same path as his son. When Pat became ill with cancer and passed away after a relatively brief illness, he took an overdose of sleeping pills and joined her. His family losses are startling given the relative smoothness of the rest of his life. 

This simple, but engrossing life story unfolds with efficiency and a nice amount of detail that reveals the man behind the star persona. It is a well-written book, though there are a few obvious inaccuracies around casting (an odd mix-up of Jean Arthur and Irene Dunne roles) that made me a bit wary about how straight the facts were overall. It is in essence an engrossing book though; I found myself wanting to read more, but at the same time, the story felt complete. 

Many thanks to University Press of Kentucky for providing a copy of the book for review.

Book Review--Billy Wilder: Dancing on the Edge

 

Billy Wilder: Dancing on the Edge 

Joseph McBride 

Columbia University Press, 2021 

One of the greatest strengths of Billy Wilder: Dancing on the Edge is that author Joseph McBride was able to speak to so many key sources over several decades. This includes several conversations with Wilder and the especially valuable insights of Paul Diamond, son of Wilder’s frequent writing partner I.A.L. Diamond and a screenwriter himself. 

This exploration of Wilder’s work focuses on influences in his early life in Europe and his working relationship with Diamond and Charles Brackett, the two key collaborators in his Hollywood career. McBride also dives into public perception of the director and writer. His primary argument: while Billy Wilder has long been known as a cynic, he’s actually a disappointed romantic. 

McBride was wise to focus on Wilder’s partnerships with Brackett and Diamond, because he would not have had a career without their input, not to mention the language help they offered this non-native English speaker. He digs into the contrast between the men, from the conservative Brackett to the more liberal and open-minded Diamond. While it is clear that Wilder is the driving force of both partnerships, both men had their own brilliance, though it seemed to come out chiefly with Billy. 

Wilder scrambled to survive as a reporter in pre-war Europe and struggled to learn the language of his adopted country when he came to America. McBride explores the filmmaker’s feelings of being an outsider due to these circumstances, his survivor’s guilt as a refugee (he never got over his failure to convince his mother to flee Europe in the World War II years), and how it molded his work. He also dives into Wilder’s love for American culture and how he combined it with his own Weimar sophistication and world experience. 

This is an engrossing and revealing exploration of one of the best Hollywood filmmakers. It offers intimate insight and a welcome in-depth look at Wilder’s less celebrated later films, such Avanti! (1972) and Fedora (1978), in addition to his more popular early classics. By focusing on the work, McBride explains a lot about the man. 

Many thanks to Columbia University Press for providing a copy of the book for review.

Book Review--The Memoirs of Leonard Maltin, Star Struck: My Unlikely Road to Hollywood

 

Star Struck: My Unlikely Road to Hollywood

Leonard Maltin 

GoodKnight Books, 2021 

Leonard Maltin has had the kind of career where several elements on their own are remarkable: the phenomenal success of his movie guides, a long run on Entertainment Tonight, and his work as a popular USC film professor among them. Add to that a wide array of fascinating side projects, including a long working relationship with Disney and Maltin on Movies, an interview podcast he co-hosts with his daughter Jessie Maltin. This self-described film nerd shares the story of his remarkable life in a memoir full of the enthusiasm and positive energy for which the critic is famous. 

Maltin claims that luck has played a large factor in his success and while it is clear that has often been the case, even more so his “luck” has been showing up and doing the work. As a film-obsessed teen in New York City he was already writing articles about the movies, eventually publishing a movie magazine with a healthy subscription base. He rode the momentum of that early start to Hollywood where he countered the bad reputation of the town by approaching his work with honor and respect for others, something he managed to do while still getting scoops and keeping his employers happy. 

One of the most amusing aspects of Maltin’s story is that he has spent his adult life in the unusual position of being both a fan and a celebrity. A part of him remains that young film obsessive, thrilled to meet the stars of Hollywood past, but his television career made him so recognizable that the famous considered him own of their own. The result: situations like Maltin and his wife befriending movie fan Hugh Hefner and regularly watching movies and awards shows at the Playboy Mansion, with the critic taking off later in the evening to do his Entertainment Tonight duties for the latter. 

It is clear that Maltin’s wife Alice has been instrumental in his long-running success. His loving tribute to her is one of the most touching elements of the book. In addition to being an ideal mate for the critic, she has an instinct for business that kept him going in his early years and continues to be an important part of the Maltin enterprise that now also includes Jessie Maltin. 

Maltin is a great storyteller. For that reason the chapters he writes in praise of his less famous friends are just as fascinating as his memories of meeting stars like Bette Davis, Barbara Stanwyck, and Olivia de Havilland. His enthusiasm for interesting characters and people in general is contagious. It’s pleasant reading, light and easy, but full of interesting details of a busy life. 

Many thanks to GoodKnight Books for providing a copy of the book for review.

Book Review--Dark City: The Lost World of Film Noir, Revised and Expanded Edition

 

Dark City: The Lost World of Film Noir 

Revised and Expanded Edition 

Eddie Muller TCM/Running Press, 2021 

TCM Host and Noir City Festival and Film Noir Foundation founder Eddie Muller’s Dark City: The Lost World of Film Noir has long been a favorite among fans of the bitter little world in this popular movie genre. However, a lot has changed since its original publication in 1998. This expanded version of the book has new chapters and restored photos that fill out its dark world. 

Perhaps most significantly, many films mentioned in Dark City that were unattainable when the book first came out are now readily available, some of them thanks to the funding and advocacy work of Film Noir Foundation. The audience for classic noir has also grown, with a niche interest growing into a widespread fandom. That growth is recognized with these new images and perspectives. 

The concept of viewing noir as a city with different shady neighborhoods works well as an organizing concept for the book. Most films in the genre fall easily into a handful of categories, from journalism and prison, to psychopaths and femme fatales. Muller alternates between discussing great films and profiling key actors and creators in noir, with a mix of historical curiosity and gumshoe cynicism. 

While the text is a great primer in noir and sure to be of interest to even longtime fans of the genre, the real stand-out in this edition is the gorgeous photos and posters. The way these images are arranged and presented is stunning, with vivid color, rich black and white, and some photos as big as a full page. It’s a beautiful book. 

There’s a bizarrely alternating tone of feminism and chauvinism that can be unsettling (such as when referring to scenes with “pizzaz” Muller then immediately describes a woman getting knocked out, though he also demonstrates strong advocacy for female creators in the genre) and the long hardcover design makes this what one of my college professors would apologetically call, “not a lying down book,” but overall this is an essential tribute and introduction to film noir. The additions enhance and solidify its status as a classic. 

Many thanks to TCM for providing a copy of the book for review.

Book Review--Eartha and Kitt: A Daughter's Love Story in Black and White

 

Eartha & Kitt: A Daughter’s Love Story in Black & White 

Kitt Shapiro and Patricia Weiss Levy 

Pegasus Books, 2021 

Any devoted fan of Eartha Kitt knows that the love of her life was her daughter, Kitt Shapiro. From Kitt’s birth to the end of Eartha’s public life, numerous pictures of the two together show a happy, playful pair enjoying each other’s company. I’ve long wondered about their unusually close relationship and was delighted to learn more about their bond in Shapiro’s warm and generous memoir, Eartha & Kitt: A Daughter’s Love Story in Black & White.

Shapiro tells a story counter to many of those told by children of famous parents. Eartha was devoted to her daughter and kept her close, taking her on airplanes to various engagements as soon as Kitt’s doctor said it was it safe. One could speculate that her constant need for her daughter’s company could be excessive, and it is revealed that need had much to do with her lonely, abuse-filled childhood, but Shapiro’s take is that she accepted and embraced her role as her mother’s companion because she wanted to fill that need and found it mutually beneficial. It’s interesting, and refreshing the way Shapiro understood her mother and committed to her with a good perspective on what she sacrificed and what she gained.

The chapters are arranged in categories, telling a somewhat chronological story of their relationship, but the overall feel is the unordered flow of a woman reminiscing to an intimate audience. Shapiro shares her mother's struggles and triumphs, recognizing the net positive of a woman overcoming brutal odds achieving an unusual level of success in a wildly adventurous life.

While Eartha Kitt did make her mark in film and television, that was only a small part of a diverse career. Shapiro likewise doesn’t devote much attention to her career as an actress, though she does share a few interesting insights. She recalls watching classic films with her mother which were sometimes cast with stars who she had befriended or shared the screen. There’s also a touching moment where seeing Eartha by chance in an old television show gives her much needed strength.

Overall this is a tender and engrossing story. Shapiro shares the complications and blessings of her remarkable relationship with her mother with grace and an understanding that leading with love often means forging your own path.

Book Review--Fading Fame: Women of a Certain Age in Hollywood

 

Fading Fame: Women of a Certain Age in Hollywood, Short Stories & Plays 

Pam Munter 

Adelaide Books, 2021 

In a world that tends to mock, dismiss, and misunderstood “women of a certain age,” it was interesting to find a book dedicated to approaching the subject with empathy and respect. Pam Munter’s Fading Fame: Women of a Certain Age in Hollywood is an intriguing exploration of the magnificence of famous women moving past middle age, flaws and all. 

This collection of stories and plays features women that are a mix of the real and imagined facing the challenge of careers, lovers, and other aspects of their youth drifting away. It sounds glum, but the richness of the characters draws you into their orbit. These are multi-faceted ladies who have lived extraordinary lives and they remain remarkable. 

In addition to characters created out of whole cloth, Munter imagines the inner life of cinematic celebrities like Doris Day, Frances Marion, and Mary Pickford. The tenderest piece features a frail Ethel Barrymore facing the challenge of her last film, Young at Heart (1954). It’s easy to imagine this witty, acerbic, but ailing woman reminiscing in her dressing room and wryly managing Frank Sinatra on the set. 

There are two lightly humorous, but deep-reaching plays in the book: Life Without and Janet, Drake Private Eye. The former a four-hander featuring three women who slyly get the best of a narcissistic man whose ambitions to be a cabaret performer outweigh his talent. The latter an interesting exploration of ambition and the satisfaction that can come from choosing life over career. 

In the end, I found this a fascinating collection because of the way the stories embrace the complexities of fame and being a woman in a rocky industry. It’s bittersweet, but you are constantly reminded that these characters are remarkable people, with memories that will always elevate them. 

Many thanks to Adelaide Books for providing a copy of the book for review.

Book Review--Vitagraph: America's First Great Motion Picture Studio

 

Vitagraph: America’s First Great Motion Picture Studio 

Andrew A. Erish 

University Press of Kentucky, 2021 

Before I picked up Vitagraph: America’s First Great Motion Picture Studio, I’d seen a handful of its films, knew of some of its stars, and even vaguely recalled seeing the word “Vitagraph” in the opening credits of films a few times. I didn’t have the faintest idea of how important the studio was though and how many things it pioneered in the industry, like animated films, the essential visual language of film, and even the use of “studio” to describe where movies are made. 

J. Stuart Blackton and Albert E. Smith founded Vitagraph in 1897. When they set up shop, movies weren’t yet shown in theaters made for their exhibition, audiences didn’t know the stars of films by name, and the litigious Thomas Edison had the industry in a stranglehold because of his claims to film technology patents. 

The pair probably wouldn’t have stayed in business long if it weren’t for the grit and savvy of William T. “Pop” Rock, the man they hired to steer the company as president. Rock knew how to play the game, he’d even thought about going after Blackton and Smith before they joined forces. With his guidance, Vitagraph still had a rough ride, but was nevertheless able to become the most successful American film production company in the early years of cinema. 

Many of Vitagraph’s performers set the template for the industry: like John Bunny as the friendly, portly comedian, Maurice Costello as cinema's first matinee idol, Florence Turner, the beautiful "Vitagraph Girl" and Jean, the Vitagraph Dog, who preceded many a canine star. These stars were the first to learn what it was like to be adored, sometimes a little too much, by thousands of fans. They ignored the scorn of theater snobs and prospered as worldwide celebrities, though that success was not always enduring. 

Aside from facing frequent lawsuits and jockeying for power from Edison, Blackton and Smith fended off an attempted takeover from businessman Benjamin Hampton, and severe harassment from Paramount films founder Adolph Zukor. There are other factors that led to the eventual downfall of Vitagraph, but it would have thrived longer and been more creative and productive without these pressures. Indeed, it is amazing how long the company endured given all the aggression it faced. 

It’s a shame Vitagraph wasn’t allowed to thrive the way it could have, because if it had, it could have influenced the shaping of a whole industry. Aside from the loss of creativity and innovation, the way in which Blackton and Smith did business could have set a healthier standard for the studios to come. The pair was trustworthy, frequently made handshake agreements, and created a mutually supportive community which several employees referred to as a family atmosphere. This was a place where women in particular could find a more pleasant work environment than in the factories. While a larger salary could easily whisk a star away, everyone who worked with Vitagraph seems to have been happy and often at their most successful. 

While reading the book, I wondered how many of these intriguing films I was learning about I’d be able to find. It turns out that while thousands of Vitagraph films are believed to be lost, there are a few hundred known to still exist and many are easily accessible. This includes several of the titles Erish references. The Eye Filmmuseum YouTube channel and the Library of Congress website and YouTube channel both have several titles available to view for free, and some of them with remarkably good image quality. 

Of the Vitagraph films I’ve watched so far, I’ve been most impressed with the early animation Humorous Phases of Funny Faces (1906), a fun early special effects flick called Princess Nicotine (1909), the moving interracial adoption drama Father and Son (1912), and the slightly ghoulish comedy The Thieving Hand (1908). 

This is a richly-detailed, well-researched, and much-needed history of an important aspect of film history. It deserves to endure as a valuable resource. 

Many thanks to University Press of Kentucky for providing a copy of the book for review.

Book Review--Jayne Mansfield: The Girl Couldn't Help It

 

Jayne Mansfield: The Girl Couldn’t Help It 

Eve Golden 

University Press of Kentucky, 2021 

I’ve always enjoyed Jayne Mansfield as a bubbly, squealing glamour icon: fun, but not much more than that. Thanks to a new biography of the actress by Eve Golden, I have a new appreciation of her. There’s a lot to love about this genuinely warm, talented, and uniquely appealing woman. 

It’s stunning to think about the speed with which Mansfield ripped through life. To have a packed-full biography of over 300 pages for a life of thirty-four years is both remarkable and exhausting. By page seventy, I was astonished to realize that she was still only twenty-two.

Mansfield married as a teenager and became a mother soon after. Somehow she fit in college and her first performances on the stage in university productions. Hollywood followed soon after. Her first husband left the picture and Jayne was a single mother while she struggled to get herself before a movie camera. 

The career that followed was remarkable. It wasn’t the enduring Hollywood stardom Mansfield wanted, but in the end she’d created a fascinating body of work in barely over a decade. The ‘A’ list years didn’t last long. She was a sensation in The Girl Can’t Help It (1956) and Will Success Spoil Rock Hunter? (1957), but what came before and after is equally, if not more interesting. 

In the early years of her career, Mansfield hadn’t cultivated the goofy, squealing sexpot image that brought her to the peak of her fame. She was sultry and understated in her screen debut, Female Jungle (1955). In bit parts for films like Illegal (1955) and Hell on Frisco Bay (1955) she was attractive, but subdued. 

Once she broke out and introduced the world to bubbly Jayne, she kept that persona for the rest of her life. She’d use it in her successful Las Vegas stage show with her second husband, muscle man and reluctant actor Mickey Hargitay, for public appearances and guest roles on television variety shows, and later as a nightclub performer. 

However, when it came to acting, Mansfield showed she was capable of a lot more. As a young ward of Dan Duryea in The Burglar (1957) she’s moody and edgy, but also vulnerable. After her brief rush of big Hollywood success, she also showed fascinating depths in a series of European productions, from a remarkably soulful performance as a strip club headliner in Too Hot to Handle (1960) to an entertainingly campy, but also hard-edged performance as a thief in Dog Eat Dog! (1964) that would not be out of place in a John Waters movie (the director was incidentally heavily influenced by Mansfield). 

The films were just a part of decades of constant work and chaos. Golden had a massive task in uncovering the details of a busy life that was full of publicity that often obscured the truth. There are three marriages, four children, affairs, supermarket openings galore, a well-publicized friendship with a so-called Satanist, and a custom-made Pink Palace in the mix as well. Golden is often forced to offer an array of possibilities when the truth is impossible to determine, but this experienced biographer has never been daunted by that kind of a challenge and she crafts an entertaining, complex, and revealing story out of the mass of details. 

Golden has always shown a humorous appreciation of the absurdities in her subject’s lives while remaining respectful of their humanity. Here that impulse is especially welcome. She constantly draws a distinction between Mansfield’s public image, which inspired frequent mockery and the real woman, who despite many questionable actions was essentially intelligent and kind-at-heart. 

In the end, Jayne remains a bit of a mystery, because as much as her life was an open book; she didn’t seem to even know herself how to write the next chapter.

Many thanks to University Press of Kentucky for providing a copy of the book for review.