ARC Book Review: Tinseltown by William J. Mann

The full title of this book is Tinseltown: Murder, Morphine, and Madness at the Dawn of Hollywood. It centres on the murder of William Desmond Taylor in 1922, examining all available material to try and pin down the culprits after all this time. More than that, though, this book serves as a portal into the early world of Hollywood. Other people discussed at length include actresses Mabel Normand, Mary Miles Minter and Virginia Gibson along with Adolph Zukor, the ambitious founder of Paramount. This book attempts to uncover the 'real' Hollywood of the early 20s and, for the most part, it succeeds.

While the murder investigation does form the centrepiece of the book, it certainly isn't the only strand. I liked the fact that it begins with the day of the murder then flips back to document how the main players got to that point. Although I knew the murder was coming, sometimes I got so engrossed with the power plays of various people that I forgot about it. As a consequence, it came upon me as a bit of a shock, mainly because by this point I was emotionally attached - not so much to Taylor himself but to Mabel Normand. Mann's portrayal of Normand is nothing short of exquisite and, out of all the names who touch these pages, for me, the representation of Normand lingers most strongly.

Mann's style may not be to everyone's taste but it certainly works. He has painstakingly recreated as much of that period as possible using, as he explains in a note at the end, as many primary sources as he could get his hands on but, beyond that, he has immersed himself and his reader in the possible thoughts of his primary protagonists. This kind of speculation is just that but it works because of Mann's level of research: there is always the sense that his speculation stems from deep involvement in his subject and his use of photographs and weather reports to visualise what a street would've looked like from the view of one of his protagonists works extremely well. Similarly, the use of very short chapters, flicking around from person to person is something I enjoyed once I accustomed myself to it. Mann uses enough markers and reminders to satisfy his most forgetful readers and keeping all the major players in the air is a shrewd move for maintaining interest.

The book claims to offer the solution to the mystery that has foxed film buffs for ninety years. Do I think the conclusions are plausible? Yes, I do. Mann doesn't manipulate the evidence to fit his theory. He presents it all, including that for other suspects. In the end, though, the circumstantial evidence accumulated via Mann's diligent recreation of the Hollywood milieu swings it for me.

Tinseltown isn't only a gripping read but an excellent depiction of a world long gone. If you're interested in the early days of Hollywood and the power plays of the era then this book is highly recommended.

I received an ARC of this book direct from the publishers, HarperCollinsPublishers. And here's a nifty trailer for it:

Book Review: Kate: The Woman Who Was Katharine Hepburn by William J. Mann

Published three years after Hepburn's death, this lengthy biography attempts to debunk some of the myths that have sprung up about this legendary actress without diminishing her achievements and drive. It's a biography that focuses as much as possible on the woman, not the actress. As Mann notes, the films are used as illustrations of Hepburn's own myth-making and how they feed into the overall picture of her. This is really an in-depth biography that can't be summarised easily. However, one thing that is worth noting is the relish with which Mann approaches his subject. His ability to decode and hypothesise where necessary is balanced by the (sometimes anonymous) sources he's managed to consult, creating a rounded picture of Hepburn. He points out that this kind of book wouldn't have been published while she was still alive, an indication of how thorough it is, looking into places Hepburn would likely have been uncomfortable with.

The book doesn't run completely chronologically, usually taking a pivot moment at the beginning of a chapter then stepping back and seeing what led up to it. In this way, it manages to signal what a chapter will cover and what you can expect from it. For example, chapter twenty four starts with some visuals and dialogue from The African Queen, thus setting the scene for her comeback from Communist rumours. It's a good way of grounding the reader because, although there are numerous indications of where you are in the timeline, it's still easy to get lost. That's partly down to the detail amassed in the book, and that can never be a bad thing.

A lot of time throughout is spent analysing Hepburn's various relationships, especially with Spencer Tracy, and trying to pinpoint how much sexual contact this entailed. This also applies to the relationships Hepburn had with her female friends and makes for some surprising conclusions. When he doesn't have concrete information, Mann says so, but his speculations always hold the ring of truth about them, gained from his intimate research into Hepburn's life.

For me, reading slowly at the beginning then devouring the book in large chunks, one of the most painful times for Hepburn was perhaps the suicide of her older brother in their teens, when she found his body the next morning. Reading through the rest of the book, and seeing her relationships with alcoholics and the way she dedicated herself to getting Tracy sober, Tom was the person I kept returning to in my mind, even though he was barely mentioned again due to the stoic nature of the Hepburn family. More than seventy years later, following the death of their sister, Hepburn surprised another of her brothers by saying she wanted her ashes buried next to Tom's. And they were. I have no idea why that touched me so much but it brought me to tears.

Ultimately, this biography is detailed and well-constructed. Where necessary, Mann supplies brief biographies of the people involved in Hepburn's life. He debunks many of the myths that made her America's sweetheart whilst still imparting the image of a formidable woman with talent and, most of all, the will to succeed.

*This book was read as part of the 'Chunkster Challenge 2014' - information can be found here.

RIP Joan Fontaine

With all the discussion of Peter O'Toole's death, announced yesterday, it would be easy for the death of another Hollywood star to go unnoticed. The wonderful Joan Fontaine died yesterday aged 96, a brilliant age, perhaps, but why did I still get the feeling she'd been taken too soon? The Hollywood stars of the 40s and 50s that I adore are so fresh in my memory that it's still a shock when one of them dies and Joan has become one of my favourites.

The first film I saw her in was A Damsel in Distress (1937) with Fred Astaire. It was an odd film with a screen play by PG Wodehouse and songs by the Gershwins but, while Astaire's charm and dancing ability was ever present, I was more interested in his beautiful colleague. Although not Astaire's usual kind of co-star, there was something about her that pulled me in: maybe the eyes, maybe the smile, maybe just the sense that I was to see her in better things - which I did.

I've since reviewed three of her films on here: Rebecca (1940), Jane Eyre (1943) and Born to Be Bad (1950). In the last of these, she plays a manipulative woman determined to outsmart those around her to get what she wants. It wasn't the kind of role I'd come to associate with her but she pulled it off remarkably well, revealing another layer to an excellent actress. However, she's at her absolute best in Rebecca, engaging throughout and a brilliant co-star to the titan Laurence Olivier. If there's one film I think she'll be remembered for, it's Rebecca, and rightly so.

There are many more Fontaine films out there for me to discover and enjoy. Hours of pleasure from an actress I don't think has been properly appreciated in recent years. Maybe her death'll change that. RIP Joan and thanks for the wonderful legacy.

Wherein Rosalind Russell Helps My PhD

I now at least have a valid reason for all those classic films I watch. One of them drew a connection for me over the weekend that I'd completely missed in my PhD research and gave me another hypothetical lead for for the cause of a character's disability.

Now, the disability strand of my thesis is only one chapter long but, really, I like to think it's the most important. That's possibly because it's the one I'm working on currently but we'll deal with that notion when I start on the next chapter. Anyway, in it I hypothesise about the rather vague descriptions of the disabilities of two Edmund Yates characters. It's all conjecture but the possibilities of hereditary problems throw up a few interesting angles for the chapter.

In a much-needed break from work I watched the first half of Sister Kenny, a 1940s biopic about an Australian nurse who found an effective treatment for infant paralysis brought on by polio (a review of the film will follow in a few days). A light pinged on in my brain. Although it should've, polio hadn't made it onto my original list of wacky and obscure diseases that could cause disability and yet the symptoms and results could match the character's very neatly. Polio was apparently identified in 1840 so it was recognisable - but not treatable - at the time Yates was writing.

So there we are. I've got a legitimate reason for indulging in one of my favourite pastimes. And if that indulgence includes Rosalind Russell who am I to argue?

My Favourite Books of 2012

When I glanced through the list of books I've read this year (full list here) I groaned: how was I supposed to pick five out of that wonderful list that have been somehow better than the others? I had to limit myself to one Dickens, for instance, because other authors deserved a look in. It's a tricky one, this literary life.

Judy, A Legendary Film Career by John Fricke

This accessible analysis, full of quotes and pictures, covers the film career of my favourite actress ever. Many of the pictures were new to me and I gleaned so many titbits from this. In addition, it's a gorgeous book to hold and read. Perfection. You can read my full review here.

 The Somnambulist by Essie Fox

A wonderfully atmospheric novel set in Victorian England telling the story of several women intertwined by their pasts.This has some memorable scenes that have lingered with me. You can read my full review here.

Troubles by J.G. Farrell

An evocative look at the Irish Troubles in 1919, via the medium of Major Brendan Archer, a soldier who goes to reclaim his fiancé. He finds himself in a dilapidated hotel surrounded by dilapidated guests and gets sucked into their lives through no fault of his own. You can read my full review here.

Gillespie and I by Jane Harris

A difficult one to describe without giving away the plot but I will say this is an enormously atmospheric and spine-tingling read that leaves you wanting to read the whole thing again. You can read my full review here.

Bleak House by Charles Dickens

One of the early books I read this year has endured. It's a mammoth work but quite possibly Dickens's best (that's always up for debate). A humorous, poignant and suitably complex book that I won't tire of rereading. You can read my full review here. 

A Funny Thing Happened While Watching Black Narcissus

I've watched some cracking classic films this year (so far - it's not quite over yet and my hard disk recorder is full of them). However, along with All About Eve (1950), Indiscreet (1958), Bringing Up Baby (1938) and Monkey Business (1952), one of my favourites was Black Narcissus (1947) which starred Deborah Kerr, David Farrar and Kathleen Byron. Something happened while I was watching it that was a little bizarre but I didn't relate at the time - it's not really the kind of thing you put into a film review and I forgot to write a follow-up post about it.

Anyone who's familiar with Black Narcissus will know that it's a deeply atmospheric film with the constant sound of wind blighting the convent that sits high up in the Himalayas. Just as things were getting very interesting, I heard a squeaking coming from the kitchen. Shaken, I hit the pause button and glanced sideways. The dog was fighting with what I thought was a mouse. I yelled at her and she dropped it under the utensils trolley. There was a long moment then the thing reared up, bounced across the room making the most hideous noise and went straight into the crate of paperwork we have stored under the table.

Now, being a brave and mature girl, the first thing I did was call my father down from upstairs. I think I garbled something like - 'dog mouse will you - just get down here!'

He came downstairs, a little disgruntled because he still didn't know what I was babbling about and proceeded to have a look under the table. All the while, the television screen is fixed on a terrifyingly dark vision of a desolate convent.

It wasn't a mouse, it was a baby bird. That explained, perhaps, why the noise had been so violent (squawking not squeaking) but raised the question of how the dog had got hold of the creature in the first place. She's a docile little thing, scratches you by accident occasionally but doesn't have a vicious bone in her body. She wouldn't have pounced which means the poor thing must have fallen.

Anyway, my father took it outside and I waited a good few minutes before I put Black Narcissus back on. The rest of the film was seen with the memory of a dying squawk in my ears - it certainly added to the tension.

What A Character Blogathon: Marjorie Main

When I think of Marjorie Main I can't help but link her with Judy Garland. Others may remember her as Ma Kettle but, for me, the pictures that spring into my head when I hear her name are from Meet Me In St. Louis (1944), The Harvey Girls (1946) and Summer Stock (1950). This seems a shame since she didn't have leading roles in these films but they cemented my view of her as an excellent character actress and someone who always enhanced a film, although you didn't always pause to notice her.

Take her role as Katie in Meet Me In St. Louis for an example. She blends almost in the background of the Smith family as the sarcastic maid who, on being asked if she's seen the cat says, "I don't know. A while back she got in the way and I kicked her down the cellar steps. I could hear her spine hit on every step." But she's also an integral part of the family unit, keeping secrets for the girls. As she says, "Miss Smith, if I have to keep lying for your daughters, I'll have to have more money."

I think one of the things that attracts me most about Marjorie Main are those facial expressions. She's an excellent comic actress because of the way she involves every feature of her face in a simple smile or frown. And those eyes! One look from her can tell you more than eight pages of dialogue.

In The Harvey Girls she plays a stalwart Harvey 'girl'. She steals her first scene simply by chewing rhythmically. Sonora Cassidy is a no-nonsense woman and this allows Main some wonderful moments. She gets to dance with Ray Bolger and club Chill Wills over the head with a frying pan for a start.

Summer Stock sees her revert to being Garland's house helper. Esme works for Jane Falbury (Garland) but, as usual, isn't shy about making her thoughts known. Two women on a farm are susceptible to snoopers, she says, so she asks Jane to get some blanks: "If any man's willing to snoop around me, I don't want to kill him, just stun him." She gets all the best one-liners in her films. Summer Stock was Garland's last MGM film and it works because she's surrounded by people she works well with - Marjorie Main is certainly one of those. 

Perhaps the thing I appreciate most about Marjorie Main is the comedic warmth she exudes. Whenever she comes on screen all you have to do is keep your eyes on her and she'll do something funny, whether she's the focus of the action or not. Very few actors make me smile simply by chewing but she's one of them. 

Classic Film Review: Party Girl (1958)

The first thing I should say about this film is that the title is entirely misleading. The 'party girl' of the title is technically Vicki Gaye (Cyd Charisse) but she is something of a reluctant participant, encountering lawyer Tommy Farrell (Robert Taylor) as she attempts to shrug off the unwanted attentions of gangster Louis (John Ireland). Farrell takes her home to her flat where she finds her flatmate has committed suicide. This draws Vicki and Tommy together but very gradually. There is no big unbelievable flourish to their relationship and the film actually stretches over a few years.

The difficulties in the plot come from the fact that Tommy makes a living out of defending gangsters in court. He has a very unique presence in the courtroom, stemming from an accident involving a bridge when he was younger. He limps and is forced to use a stick. This actually adds to his persuasive courtroom persona but meeting Vicki makes him realise that he has to get out of the murky world he represents. He has surgery to assist his walking and, when he returns to Chicago, he tries to break with mob boss Rico (Lee J.Cobb). That, however, doesn't go down well. Farrell has to deal with threats to both him and Vicki as the film builds to its climax.

This is certainly one that defies easy categorisation. It has plenty of drama, including some graphic threats (and more) about acid and the rest of the mob scenes come across very well. Meanwhile, you have Vicki dancing in a nightclub, the studio making the most of having Cyd Charisse in the cast with some lengthy dance sequences. In addition, the romance aspect of the plot is realistic and Taylor and Charisse work well together. I certainly can't fault it as a piece of entertainment, although I did have some reservations. Primarily, Charisse's acting occasionally strayed out of what was necessary for a scene, leading to some cringe-worthy moments. Taylor, however, consistently under-played his role and really became Tommy Farrell for the duration. There were a few unnecessary scenes (Farrell's wife felt like an unnecessary subplot) and, as I said, the title was a bugbear. All that taken into consideration, I did find it very enjoyable, especially the final few action-packed scenes.

Classic Film Review: Jane Eyre (1943)

I became interested in Joan Fontaine after watching her with Fred Astaire in A Damsel in Distress (1937). To put it bluntly, I was bewitched. When I saw that she was in Jane Eyre opposite Orson Welles I was fairly excited.

The film does have the melodramatic feel of the era but also manages to recreate some of the foreboding atmosphere of Lowood and Thornfield. Fontaine - despite her beauty - makes a very good plain Jane because they don't glamorise her as much as I feared they would. As for Welles as Mr Rochester... Well, that was just an excellent bit of casting. He's got the presence of Rochester, the humour lingering beneath the surface and I felt he had real chemistry with Fontaine. The supporting cast was pretty good as well: Margaret O'Brien's pre-Meet Me in St. Louis (1944) French accent as young Adele was much better than I expected, though I'm not a huge fan of her. Agnes Moorehead was the perfect Mrs Reed while Henry Daniell played the terrible Mr Brocklehurst to perfection. The plot is slimmed down from the book and misses out some interesting scenes (I'm assuming Orson Welles wasn't keen on dressing up like a gypsy). Nevertheless, this was a good adaptation and one that never pretended to be more than the entertainment it was.

If I had to pick one favourite scene it would probably be Rochester's horse being spooked by Jane on the moors. Wonderfully shot and a nice precursor to the movement of their relationship. All in all, thoroughly enjoyable and, yes, my obsession with Joan Fontaine is growing.

Book Review: Judy, A Legendary Film Career by John Fricke

Any regular visitor to this blog will know that I'm a devoted Judy Garland fan. Consequently, when I was asked what one book I wanted for Christmas, this was my first and only choice. I'd seen it in a shop and barely prevented myself from sitting down on the carpet and cracking it open there and then.

This is an overview of Judy's film career, broken down by period and then by each individual film. There's enough biographical information in it to satisfy the layperson but not too much to distract from the focus of the book. Each film is given it's own section with a cast list, synopsis, contemporary reviews, notes on the production and, perhaps most wonderfully, a selection of quotes from people who worked on the film. These quotes range from Judy herself down to contract dancers and backstage personnel and proved to be one of the highlights of the book.

However, the main highlight has to be the pictures. There are hundreds of them packed into this book, many never seen before and all of the best quality. You've got Judy and Doris Day meeting up on the set of A Star is Born; Judy helping prepare Liza for her little appearance in In The Good Old Summertime; and the cast being instructed by Victor Fleming in the specially-extended picture album for The Wizard of Oz. Every time I turned the page I was faced with yet more wonderful pictures. They complimented the excellent analysis of each of the films without overshadowing it.

Some of the films naturally get slightly more coverage than others - The Wizard of Oz, A Star is Born, Meet Me in St. Louis, Easter Parade - but I was gratified to see the attention given to Judy's last film, I Could Go On Singing. When I watched this film I was struck by Judy's intense performance, along with her beautiful yet heartbreaking renditions of several songs. There's a gorgeous picture of Judy in discussion with director Ronald Neame on a bench while young co-star Gregory Phillips (who played Judy's son in the film) looks on with evident admiration in his eyes. It was Phillips's words on working with Judy that stuck with me when I closed the book:

"When Mr. Neame took me into Miss Garland's dressing gown...[she] gave me a big hug and said, 'Hello, darling!' It was marvellous, and so quick I forgot to be frightened. 'Come and sit down by me,' she said, and the next thing I knew, we were discussing the part, and I felt as if I'd known her all my life. All through the film, [she and Dirk Bogarde] were both wonderful to me. They are so completely natural, with no 'side' at all. It was the most friendly job I ever had."


I adored this book. It doesn't go into excessive detail for each of the films but it reveals fresh information and is worth buying for the pictures alone.

My Favourite Judy Garland Story

This extract is taken from the wonderful biography of Judy, Get Happy by Gerald Clarke. I reviewed it last month and I'd wholeheartedly recommend it to any fan. This extract takes place during one of her hospital stays prior to her final fracture with MGM. Judy has been going regularly to visit children at their hospital next door and has been most drawn to a frightened girl who hasn't spoken for two days because her family has been so cruel to her. Judy spends a lot of time with her, talking about her life to the girl and not minding that she didn't answer back.

By the end of August Judy had recovered her weight and energy, and it was time to say good-bye. On her last day in Boston, she paid her final visit to the children's hospital, where each of the patients, scrubbed and smiling, held a tiny bouquet of flowers in her honour. "Well, my friend, I'm going now," she said to the girl who refused to speak, "and I want to thank you for all you've done for me. I'm going to miss you." As Judy leaned over to kiss her, the girl reached out and clasped her as tightly as she could, and all the words she had not uttered for so many months poured out in a seemingly endless torrent. "Judy!" she screamed. "I love you! I love you! Don't leave! Don't leave!"

Watching that poignant drama, the rest of the ward was all but awash in tears: the nurses cried, the other children cried, Alsop cried and so, of course, did Judy. When Alsop warned her that they would miss their train, Judy waved him away. "Well, we'll just have to miss it," she said. "I'm not going to leave this child right now while she's talking." And there she remained for the next two hours, listening to her little friend's excited babble and bringing the nurses over, one by one, so that the girl would continue to speak even after Judy herself had returned to California. There had been other gratifying moments in her life, Judy later said, but nothing approached that one. "I didn't give a goddamn how many pictures I'd been fired from. I had done a human being some good. She had helped to make me well, and I had helped her."

Can You Watch & Edit?

Today I noticed something about myself. Aside from the fact I need to be listening to music in order to write, I apparently need something on in the background in order to be able to edit my work. Nope, it can't be music. Preferably, it should be a musical which has enough numbers in it to distract me once in a while yet isn't completely packed. I would watch The Sound of Music as opposed to the anniversary concert of Les Miserables let's say.

Does this quirk make me odder than I thought I was?

I choose films I know backwards. Tonight I sat watching Gentlemen Prefer Blondes with my script on my knee. I managed to edit twenty-five pages, a pretty concentrated effort for me. Usually I drift off into doing something else while I'm editing.

The trouble is, I like the editing process but I do see it as a never-ending one. I'm never going to be happy with what I write. If I try and edit at my desk I'm likely to overwhelm myself by playing around with my thesaurus and panicking about why my scenario seems faintly familiar. Am I a thief, am I wannabe? By focusing half my attention on something else I can pull back from my doubts and have a decent editing session whilst also entertaining myself a little.

This doesn't work for everything, of course. Some stories require more meticulous attention than others, especially if they're irritating me. If I'm overhauling a plot I have to give it my full attention. And, invariably at this point, Facebook and Twitter get my undivided adoration.

I'm not a lost cause but I am getting close to being a hopeless case.