“The geography of ambition and love delayed, though not wholly denied.”

Red, a biography of Susan Hayward written by Robert LaGuardia and Gene Arceri takes the reader from this phenomenal actress’s poverty-stricken childhood in Brooklyn to her premature death from cancer at the age of 57. The authors weave together glimpses of Susan from many sources–friends, fellow actors and actresses and her long-estranged sister, Florence. Red paints a portrait of a woman of contrasts. Loathed by some fellow actors who considered her ‘cold’, we also see flashes of a woman who showed instances of remarkable kindness.

Susan Hayward was born as Edythe Marrenner in 1917 in Brooklyn, and grew up in the shadow of her glamorous older sister, Florence. Susan sustained and overcame a horrible, potentially crippling childhood injury. Showing tremendous strength of purpose, and remarkable willpower, Susan overcame considerable obstacles to become a model. She landed in Hollywood to screen test for Gone With The Wind.

Reading about Susan’s acting career illustrates just how bad the studio system was for actors and actresses. They all coveted contracts but then once they had a contract they were stuck, and talent certainly didn’t guarantee roles. Susan, groomed by her loyal agent Benny Medford, a man who stubbornly believed in Susan when no one else did, landed a contract with Warner Bros but was later dropped. She then signed with Paramount but managed to alienate studio heads with her outspoken public comments and complaints about her lack of roles. The studio subsequently withheld film roles as a punishment. Susan eventually managed to gain the recognition she so justly deserved with such films as: I’ll Cry Tomorrow, With a Song in My Heart, Smash-Up: The Story of a Woman, and I Want to Live, but in spite of these phenomenal successes, under contract to 20th Century Fox, Susan’s fame and talent were used to bolster the studio’s stinkers.

The book charts Susan’s personal life: her two marriages and her climb to success, and a suicide attempt. The final section of the book makes for difficult reading due to the subject matter: Susan’s struggle with alcohol, her illness, and death.

On the negative side, I don’t think enough credit was given to her early deprivation. Susan came from a very poor background, and I don’t think that was really addressed when comments appear about how “cheap” she was when it came to spending money. A great deal of the information about Susan comes from Florence, and the book makes it clear that there wasn’t much love lost between the sisters. Florence at one point notes that things were so bad at Susan’s home when she was married to first husband Jess Barker that their twin sons packed suitcases to leave (before Nov. 1947). For the time frame given the twins would have been 2-3 years old, so the packing of cases seems somewhat unlikely. These sorts of points are unchallenged by the authors. You can ask 100 people their opinions about someone they all know, and you are going to get 100 different answers. The book doesn’t address some of the apparently conflicting information about her. Why for example, did some people love working with Susan while others did not? Why did she apparently have problems with inter-personal relationships?

That said, Red, is an highly readable book that offers an account of Susan’s life–its triumphs and its tragedies. There are a lot of details here for any reader interested in understanding Susan’s career, and I particularly enjoyed reading the information regarding Susan’s favorite photograph of herself. It seems ironic that at first the biggest criticism of Susan’s acting ability was that she was unable to show emotion: “She has no heart.” But Susan worked intensely to overcome that and during the course of her career she delivered some of the most memorable and emotional performances ever in the history of Hollywood. The book details the enormous price she paid while throwing herself into her greatest roles. This is a portrait of a woman who was at times her own worst enemy–a woman who desperately wanted to be liked and loved but who often inadvertently alienated those closest to her. The book includes an index and a filmography of this remarkable star.

 “They repelled them, not with knuckle dusters or karate chops but with hand-bags.”

As the preface to Camp: The Lie that Tells The Truth explains, this book is a “Who’s Who and a What’s What” of Camp. The section “Camp Rules” is followed by a splendid introduction and explanation of Camp by author Philip Core. The substantive section of the book takes an encyclopedic approach to the subject. Entries range from personalities–famous, infamous, and long forgotten, to films, and even patterns (Zebra print is the Camp “battle flag”). It’s easy for any lover of Camp (me) to go through these pages and discover hideous omissions–in my case, I’m devastated by the absence of director John Waters. While JW’s muse–Divine–claims an entry, JW–the maniacal genius behind many camp films–is missing. Since director Doris Fishman is also absent, I can only conclude that the book’s emphasis in on Camp cultural icons–rather than Camp films. So if you’re looking for a definitive book on Camp film, this is not it.

While some of the entries are notorious amongst Camp lovers (Danny La Rue, Dame Edna Everage), many of the entries here offer new horizons of exploration (the obscure Dancing Marquess of Anglesey, for example). There’s a generous bibliography to guide Camp addicts for further reading, and gorgeous black and white photographs are scattered throughout the text. If you’re a Camp lover like me, this book is well worth adding to your shelf, and the author’s witty tongue in cheek style make every entry a pleasure to read.

“I’d like to report a lewd and disorderly party.”

I’m a John Waters fan. I love his films, and to me, one of the very best things about a Waters film is the dialogue. Those funny lines come fast and furiously. Sometimes I’m so busy laughing at one line, that I miss the next one. The book Trash Trio is the answer for me. Here in print–at last–are the immortal scripts of Pink Flamingos, Desperate Living and Flamingos Forever. The latter script is especially valuable, for as fans know all too well, Flamingos Forever was never made (sob). But now there is no reason to mourn–for here I can drool over every nasty word to my heart’s content. In fact, I’ve highlighted my favourite lines and plan to memorize them for special occasions.

Included in the book are–not one–but TWO–yes, let’s count them people–TWO introductions by the master himself–John Waters. One introduction was written in 1996, and the other was written in 1998. Waters mulls over the cast for a remake of Pink Flamingos, and he also explains why he never made Flamingos Forever.

Each of the scripts contains a cast list, and scene directions–along with treasured photographs of the many memorable moments from each film. As much as this pains me to admit it, John Waters is not for everyone–but for Waters fans, this book brings hours of enjoyment and many filthy memories.

Now I have no excuse to forget these immortal words:

“Filth is my politics, filth is my life!”
“Tell her this isn’t some communist day-care centre.”
“After Divine is humiliated and destroyed, Maryland will be ours!”
“She’ll be a heroine–even to non-filthy people.”

“She was always a very, very intense person.”

Bettie Page is an icon–no argument about that. In Richard Foster’s book, The Real Bettie Page, the author reveals the unknown history of the 50s pin-up model. Bettie’s career was sadly all too brief, but many outstanding photographs and films remain. Bettie Page’s unstable and unhappy childhood was fraught with poverty. She always dreamed of being an actress and stumbled accidentally into modelling in 1950. Initially posing for photography groups, Bettie soon became an extremely popular model for amateur photographers. In the early 50s, Bettie began working for Irving Klaw, and together they produced such classics as Teaserama and Jungle Girl Tied to Trees. An FBI investigation of Klaw’s business put an end to the relationship between Bettie and Klaw–and Bettie’s brief modelling career ended as she sank into oblivion.

Foster’s book brings Bettie Page back into the public eye, but I would probably guess that she wouldn’t be too thrilled about it. Foster tracks Bettie’s religious conversation and an almost 20 year odyssey through mental institutions for numerous charges (including attempted murder). It really doesn’t make for pretty reading, and after reading the book, I was left with a feeling of overwhelming sadness.

Bettie Page was a very controversial figure in the 50s, and yet her relationships with men were really rather unremarkable. While she was married 3 times, she turned down many offers to the ‘casting couch’–even though she was quite aware that she had the opportunity to ‘advance’ her career. I would imagine that the author’s exhaustive research would have uncovered all of Bettie’s lovers–and again, the 50s goddess had remarkably few.

At the end of the book, the author has included numerous Bettie Page websites, and a “Catalogue of Curves”–a list which includes the films Bettie made, books about Bettie, and Bettie Page magazines layouts. The Real Bettie Page also includes many photographs of Bettie too. Foster spends some time weighing the possibilities that Bettie posed for “additional shots,” and there is some significance to this question as certain shots would be judged obscene by 1950s FBI standards. The author weighs evidence for and against these additional shots and other career-related rumours. It seems such a tragedy that Bettie profited so little from her work. Foster admires Bettie Page–that’s clear, and the creation of the book was no simple task. But the book isn’t a homage, it’s an expose, and a fascinating read for fans.

“We’re sisters under the mink.”

A few years ago, I read an article in the newspaper about the SF 2004 Film Noir Festival. It sounded like the sort of thing I would love to go to, but long hours in the salt mine just wipe out that sort of entertainment for me. Eddie Muller, the author of Dark City: The Lost World of Film Noir was interviewed in the story, and he also hosts the annual film festival. I really liked what he said about the genre. As a result of the article (and my inability to attend the festival), I ordered his book.

I was aware–vaguely–of the meaning of the term film noir. I had a sense of what it was all about. But, after reading this book, I can say that the amount I knew about film noir only scratched the surface of this absolutely fascinating subject. While I was aware of many of the ‘big’ titles–Double Indemnity and The Postman Always Rings Twice for example, I had simply no idea that so many B titles existed. This invaluable book gave me many leads to look into. I have to add, though, that I am horrified at how many titles are no longer available.

Muller writes in a hard-boiled detective style, and this complements the genre. Muller’s book is divided into chapters that are organized thematically. The chapter, Vixenville, for example, concentrates on some of the female film noir stars and covers some of the more infamous female roles in the genre. The book is also loaded with short bios of many of the stars–including Barbara Stanwyck, Gloria Grahame, Joan Crawford, Ida Lupino, Gene Tierney, and Rita Hayworth. Also included are brief overview of the careers and influence of some of the film noir novelists (Cain & Raymond Chandler)–along with many behind-the-scene anecdotes. While examining the careers of some of those involved in the world of film noir, Muller also touches on the House Un-American Activities Committee (HUAC) and its impact on Hollywood. Muller also offers his theory of how film noir began and how it ended.

Dark City: The Lost World of Film Noir is an oversized book–complete with many gorgeous photographs, a poster gallery, an index (and believe me, you’ll use it) as well as a bibliography. This really isn’t a book that you can sit down and read cover-to-cover in one sitting. It’s a resource to return to repeatedly.

Absolutely priceless film guide

I received a copy of 1001 Movies You Must See Before You Die for my birthday, and it was truly an inspired gift. I love foreign films, and recently went on a film noir bender. I have a list of favourite directors, and I make a point of trying to seek out films I’ve heard of–even if they’re not available as rentals. I buy an annual video film guide faithfully every year, but I still have this sneaking suspicion that there are many great films out there that I’m missing. The book, 1001 Movies You Must See Before You Die proved my suspicions to be correct–I have missed many great titles.

This book is a marvelous resource for film lovers. The editor states that it’s “a book that seeks not just to inform and to prescribe, but to motivate.” The contributors began selecting films by taking “a close look at a number of existing ‘greatest,’ ‘top,’ ‘favorite,’ and ‘best’ film lists and prioritizing titles based on the frequency with which they occurred.” At the front of the book, films are indexed by genre. In the ‘meat’ of the book, the films are in chronological order (beginning with 1902 and ending in 2002). Film information includes: country of origin, language, director, producer, screenplay, director of photography, main stars, Hollywood awards, and international awards. Each film entry includes a plot synopsis, and gorgeous photographs complement the text. Contributors include professors of Film Studies, journalists, writers, filmmakers, and doctoral students. There’s a wide range of expertise here, and it truly shows. And for those who want to search by title, there’s a complete title index at end.

I am really impressed by the range of the selections here–including–classics, foreign, documentaries, comedies, horrors, and musicals. While I was happy to see I’d watched many of the titles here, I was shocked at the number of films I’ve never heard of. Believe me, I’m going to remedy that. I heartily recommend this book to all film lovers who–like me–are sick and tired of going to the video rental place and renting the same old rotten mush. Film lovers–this book is for you.

 “If one were not obsessed with film one would go mad.”

The McGuffin by John Bowen may seem to be a bit out of place on a film blog, but this is a book written for film lovers. Divorced, middle-aged film reviewer, Paul Hatcher watches at least 5 films a week that are not “one’s own choice” but whatever is playing. His reviews appear in a small, quietly fading magazine, and he teaches a film class once a week. His life is one of incredible self-restraint and routine built around watching fictional lives on screen. One night he is uncannily reminded of a scene from Alfred Hitchcock’s “Rear Window”–a frail elderly woman whose windows face his seems to be terrified of her sudden guests–a younger woman and a large Alsatian dog. As Paul catches a glimpse of his elderly neighbour, he decides to find an excuse to go over and investigate.

A few weeks later, the old woman is found beaten to death and the younger woman–who is actually a man in disguise–commits suicide. Paul feels sorry for the dog, Bonzo, and takes her home. Suddenly, Paul’s quiet life is turned upside down; he’s the subject of intense police scrutiny, he’s tailed, and his flat is searched and bugged.

The McGuffin is an amazingly well written, nice, tight little mystery, and the film allusions laced throughout the novel will appeal to film buffs. What makes this book such a delight, however, is the marvelous character of Paul Hatcher and the way he thinks. He describes himself unsympathetically and ruefully as a failed novelist and “conscientious and obsessed reviewer of other people’s work.” Looking at the bare bones structure of his life, he seems to be a settled creature–unwilling to step out of his rut and interrupt his routine. But Paul is full of surprises, and when he becomes embroiled in this mess, he reveals a logical, methodical approach to his dilemma that is both dangerous and admirable. A less skilled writer would lose control of this intricate plot, but Bowen keeps a firm hand over his narrative through Paul’s character. Another delightful aspect to the novel is the relationship that develops between Paul and Bonzo–Paul is a man without responsibilities who assumes the care of the dog when she’s stranded, and as the plot thickens, so does their relationship.

The book’s title The McGuffin refers to a term used by Hitchcock to describe “the object in any film which gave his characters their motive for action.” Hitchcock even makes a brief–but significant–appearance in the text as a disapproving bystander at a film festival in Liechtenstein. Hitchcock fans will recognize Paul Hatcher as a perfect Hitchcock character, and the riveting plot of this amazingly visual novel should make an incredibly good film. There is a film version of this book, but it sadly does not match the calibre of the novel. Oh well….

 “Once corrupted-always controlled” (Al Capone)

On December 16, 1935, popular film comedienne, Thelma Todd, known as Hot Toddy was found dead in her car from carbon monoxide poisoning. While there was speculation that she had committed suicide, the coroner ruled Todd’s death as accidental, and that was an outrageous, scandalous finding. She’d received blows so hard that one of her dental fillings was knocked out, and in addition, she had a broken nose and two broken ribs. Why did a wealthy, successful beautiful actress end up dead, and why was the truth covered up?

The book Hot Toddy: The True Story of Hollywood’s Most Sensational Murder by Andy Edmonds reconstructs the mystery surrounding Todd’s death. There are plenty of suspects–including ex-lovers, an ex-husband, and a possibly crooked bookkeeper. In the investigation and subsequent inquest, nothing added up–Todd left a restaurant with friends in the wee hours of the morning on Sunday 15th, and turned up dead more than 24 hours later. What happened to her during the last few hours of her life? The sham of an investigation left more questions than answers, and by piecing together facts and rumours, the author leads us through those last few hours

After setting the scene of Todd’s death, the book moves onto the background of Todd’s early life. A large portion of the book contains fascinating information regarding the rivalry between Al Capone and Lucky Luciano–the latter became Todd’s lover shortly before her death. Edmond’s book recreates the corruption rife within Hollywood–the narcotics and the take over of entertainment-related unions and high profile restaurants.

While the identity of Todd’s killer cannot be proved beyond a doubt, frankly the author’s hypothesis is credible. Unfortunately, the book launches itself into the thought processes of some of the major players, and since the author could not be privy to the intimate thoughts of so many (and it seems unlikely that gangsters would have dropped intimacies so casually), the conclusion is reached that some of the book’s speculation crosses the line. For example, when Thelma’s ex-lover and business partner, Roland West testifies at the inquest, the author writes that West feels “cheap and obvious.” Then when he’s questioned, we are told that West was thinking about his memories of his early relationship with Todd. When Thelma Todd’s mother, Alice is questioned, “her mind drifted back twenty nine years.” Anyway, these additions (plus conversations that supposedly took place between Luciano and Todd) are annoying. So, the book is flawed, but it’s still an interesting read, and it certainly investigates the mystery of Thelma Todd’s death. The text is accompanied by a number of black and white photos.

“What would Hollywood be without desire and greed?”

As a noir fan, I’m ready to read anything from Eddie Muller. He’s so obviously an expert on the subject–but more than that he’s also an aficionado, and it shows in The Art of Noir: The Posters and Graphics From the Classic Era of Film Noir. In the introduction, Muller notes that film noir posters have become a hot commodity for collectors recently, and that every poster “flaunts luscious spoils; at the same time warning of the dangers awaiting anyone who tried to possess them.” The book’s layout underscores the idea that noir is about style–every page is loaded with glorious colour reprints of posters. But apart from all the eye-catching posters, there’s also plenty of text. The book is organized into six chapters:

Styles of the Hollywood System
Noir Around the World
Thematic and Iconographic Elements of Film Noir
The Usual Suspects–Noir’s Most Familiar Faces
Prominent and Prolific Noir Writers
Noir’s Most Acclaimed (and Neglected) Directors

While the book offers a splendid overview of the genre, the thing I like about it the most is that the posters give the flavor of the film–there are visuals here for many long lost and neglected titles. This oversized book is the perfect gift for the noir fan in your life, and The Art of Noir certainly offers this noir fan more titles to dig up and watch.

“Things are seldom what they seem.”

On Labour Day, 1932, producer Paul Bern–husband of budding starlet Jean Harlow–was found dead from a single gunshot wound to the head. Bern’s death was ruled a suicide, and the case was considered closed. Co-author Samuel Marx was one of the first people on the scene at the Bern home on that fateful morning. Marx never swallowed the official suicide story, and he had nagging doubts about Bern’s death. Over the years the rumour circulated that Bern was impotent, and over time, this rumour was accepted as fact. Doubts that Marx had about the case grew–partially due to the horrendous stories that circulated about Bern’s brief marriage to Harlow. As a result, author Samuel Marx and his wife Joyce Vanderveen became so curious about Bern’s death that they dug back through the evidence from this decades-old case.

Samuel Marx knew and respected Bern. They worked together at MGM studios, and to him, so many things about the Bern case just didn’t add up. Why would Paul Bern–who’d only been married for 2 short months–shoot himself? Why were MGM studio executives at Bern’s house hours before the police were called? Who was the mysterious woman seen leaving Bern’s house on the morning he was found dead?

Deadly Illusions: Jean Harlow and the Murder of Paul Bern establishes the controlling atmosphere of studio life at MGM in the 30s. Studio executives opened and passed along telegrams, stars were subject to strict morality clauses, and the biggest stars were the studio’s most prized commodities. The studio’s goal was to “maximize” Jean Harlow’s “winning ways and minimize her liabilities.” Authors Marx and Vanderveen dig through long-forgotten documents, testimony and eyewitness accounts to present overwhelming evidence that Paul Bern was murdered. For those interested in Jean Harlow or old Hollywood, Deadly Illusions presents a cast of colourful characters and a fascinating, sad story.