"Life Beyond Measure" by Sidney Poitier

I've been a fan of Sidney Poitier for many years, beginning with the first time I saw the movie Blackboard Jungle (1955).  I've seen him in so many amazing movies since then -- In the Heat of the Night (1967), To Sir, With Love (1967), Buck and the Preacher (1972), and Guess Who's Coming to Dinner (1967), to name a few.  But I had no idea until a couple weeks ago that he'd written any books!  I saw this on a display of books for Black History Month at my local library and immediately snatched it up.  Sidney Poitier reminiscing about his life in letters written for his great-granddaughter?  I'm so there.

For the most part, I enjoyed this book immensely.  There were a few parts I skimmed, mostly ones where he did a lot of speculating about the history of the universe and whether or not there is a God.  But the rest of the book fascinated me, as Poitier unspooled the story of his life in a relatable, readable way.

Born into an impoverished familyin the Bahamas, Poitier spent the first decade of his life living without electricity or running water.  At 15, he was sent to live with his older brother in Miami, but had difficulty dealing with the rampant racism there or in staying out of trouble, so made his way alone to New York City, where he lived hand-to-mouth for a year.  He joined the army, then returned to existing on the edge of homelessness until he discovered acting.

I never knew anything at all about Poitier's life, and so my favorite parts of this book were definitely his looking back at how the events of his life shaped him.  He's written two memoirs, The Measure of a Man and This Life, and they're on my TBR list now.

Particularly Good Bits:

Though I was a fantastic, formidable daydreamer, the possibility that I could envisage one day traveling far from there was severely limited by lack of exposure to other places (p. 4).

Heroes and role models are important, especially because when you think of them they have the ability to buoy your spirits and ignite your energies to move you onward (p. 181).

If This was a Movie, I Would Rate It: PG.  Very little bad language, no uncomfortable scenes.  Does discuss things like alcoholism, gambling addiction, petty theft, minor violence, and dealing with racism.

"Grateful American" by Gary Sinise

I'm fumbling around for words to describe or explain or praise this book.  I want to do all three, but it's such a thoroughly good book -- and I enjoyed it so much -- that it's hard for me to write about it without descending into what will sound like sentimental hyperbole.

But I'll try.

I became a fan of Gary Sinise in 1995, when my parents took my brother and I to see Apollo 13 in the theater.  He played astronaut Ken Mattingly, and my brother and I glommed onto him as someone we just wanted to protect and defend, of that makes any sense at all.  Mattingly doesn't get to go on the mission to the moon like he was supposed to, which was a huge disappointment at first, but turned out to be a godsend, as he was on the ground to help figure out ways to get his crewmates back.  Sinise plays Mattingly with a beautifully grounded, sensible, can-do attitude that endeared the character to us from our very first viewing (an emotional event I detailed here in my review of the film).

Later on, I saw Forrest Gump (1994) and The Quick and the Dead (1995) on VHS, and they cemented Sinise in my mind as a Good Guy.  Something about him came across as genuinely upright, more than just a role or behavior he was playing at.  As if he was a nice guy in real life, the sort who would be kind and helpful and, well... an all-around Good Guy.  I've seen him in other roles over the years, and he's long been one of those actors whose presence I can count on to elevate whatever material he's working with.  I can count on him to be interesting and watchable, you might say.

I learned a few years ago of Sinise's work with the Lt. Dan Band, entertaining American troops at home and abroad, working with the USO, and raising money to benefit wounded veterans.  All of which added to my idea of him being a Good Guy.  So I joined the launch team for his memoir and waited with a fair measure of anticipation to receive my advance copy, and I expected to enjoy the book. 

What I didn't expect from this book was liking it so much that I carried it around with me for several days so I could read it while my kids were at swimming lessons and various other appointments.  I didn't expect it to make me laugh AND cry, sometimes within the same page.  I didn't expect it to touch my heart.

In simple, direct, honest words, Gary Sinise lays out his life story.  How he grew up in Chicago, a wild, rudderless teen who found direction and purpose in high school theater classes.  How he and a bunch of friends started the Steppenwolf Theatre Company, now one of the most-respected theatre groups in the country, but originally a bunch of actor pals practicing their craft in a basement.  How he dabbled in alcohol and drugs in the '70s, and drifted through his personal life even while his professional life gained momentum.  And how he eventually found meaning by coming to faith in God and joining the Catholic church, and by finding ways to aid and support military personnel, first-responders, and their families.

Intertwined throughout the book is Sinise's lifelong respect for those who put their lives on the line to defend others.  The military, police, firefighters, and other emergency personnel are often taken for granted in the United States, and Sinise insists we need to change that.  He's made it his mission to let them hear his gratitude loud and clear, to know that they are not forgotten or taken for granted.

I'm not in the military, nor is my husband.  But I have an uncle who served in Vietnam, two cousins who were/are in the Air Force, and some great uncles who served in WWII (one even hit Omaha Beach during the D-DAY invasion).  I also have friends in the military, and many members of our congregation are active duty or retired military.  And I've realized that I almost never thank them for their courage and sacrifices and willingness to preserve our freedom.  I'm not sure yet how I can do that, but thanks to this book, I'm starting to look for ways.  I used to send care packages to some friends and relatives when they were deployed overseas, but no one I know personally is deployed right now.  Still, even if it's sending an encouraging note to a friend whose husband is deployed, or inviting another friend and her kids over for a meal when her husband is away at training, I'm sure that I, like Gary Sinise, can "do a little more" (p. 260).

(From my Instagram account)

Particularly Good Bits:

...when joy connects to mission, a life's purpose begins to take shape (p. 187).

Freedom is not something all human beings simply get to have and enjoy.  A price must be paid, and I am grateful to those who are willing to pay that price, sometimes the ultimate price.  Because of these special Americans, I have been able to live out my dreams, succeed at my chosen career, and turn that success into something positive for others (p. 273).

If This was a Movie, I Would Rate It:  PG.  This is one of the cleanest memoirs I've ever read.  Drugs and alcohol make appearances, and dealing with an alcoholic in the family takes center stage for a time.  There is one curse word. 

"Film Noir: Light and Shadow" edited by Alain Silver and James Ursini

This book is a delight.

It's absolutely crammed with pictures.  (Yes, as my Goodreads friends know, I got entirely stuck on page 132 because it was a full-page picture of a certain beloved actor, and I didn't want to turn the page on him.)  It's also crammed with details and observations and information and trivia and facts and theories and... yeah, it is completely wonderful.

But what do you expect from a book with a cover that boasts Dana Andrews and Gene Tierney from my fave film noir ever, Laura (1944)?

The only real problem with this book is that now I have dozens more noir films on my to-be-watched list.  Such a problem to have, huh?  

Basically, the whole book is essay after essay devoted to the visual aspects of film noir.  The essays have titles like "Rooms like Reveries: Interiors and Interiority in Film Noir" (Imogen Sara Smith), "The Gangster and Film Noir" (Alain Silver), "Fragments of the Mirror: Hitchcock's Noir Landscape" (Alain Silver), and "Women's Song and Dance Performances in Film Noir" (Christophe Gelly and Delphine Letort) -- you can see how enticing they are to someone who enjoys this film style!

By far, my favorite essay was "Nothingness and Purpose: Light and shadow in It's a Wonderful Life" by Todd Erickson.  I've always felt that Wonderful Life was a much darker movie that it gets credit for, and so much darker than most Christmas movies -- I heartily agree with Erickson that it has noir in its heart.  

If you're a fan of film noir and love learning about how movies are made, love delving into what's going on below the surface of a story, or just generally love reading about movies, you will probably enjoy this book.

If This Was a Movie, I Would Rate It: a hard PG-13 for some bad language (quoting movie lines, mainly) and non-explicit discussions of adult themes and sexual undercurrents in films.

"Frames" by Loren D. Estleman

I was reading merrily along in chapter 18 when all of a sudden, I stopped breathing.  Not because I was choking, or because the book was suddenly terrifying.  But because, at the bottom of page 176, a character said, "I haven't seen so many cops in one place since they arrested John Landis."

And I stopped breathing and my heart started to pound because I know why John Landis got arrested, and the reason he did makes me EXTREMELY ANGRY AND SAD.  And the book as a whole has nothing to do with Landis, though it's all about Hollywood and movie-making and old movies and things like that, so it's not like this reference was out of place.  It was in perfect place.  I just wasn't expecting it.  

I stopped reading right there too, and told myself to breathe, and gathered my courage, and then made my eyes travel to the top of the next page where, sure enough, the next sentence was: "That would be for the accident that killed Vic Morrow and two child extras on the set of Twilight Zone--The Movie."  And I was very happy that Estleman included that, but I couldn't read any farther for like twenty minutes because I had to sit and think about Vic Morrow and be sad all over again for him.

You see, Vic Morrow is one of my favorite actors.  He starred as my favorite fictional character (Sgt. Saunders) in my favorite TV show, Combat! (1962-67).  And he and two children died, tragically and violently, on the set of Twilight Zone--The Movie when Landis broke all kinds of safety regulations and child labor laws.  And Landis was acquitted, in what I believe to be a terrible miscarriage of justice.  So, yeah, I got a little emotional over having that whole subject come up suddenly in the middle of what is otherwise a charming and playful mystery book.

As for Frames, it's a delightful book.  A film historian and preservationist named Valentino buys a crumbling old theater, finds a long-lost silent film inside, and then finds a dead body.  I liked the major players, the minor characters were memorable, and the mystery was engaging.  I will read more of this series.

If This was a Movie, I Would Rate It:  a soft PG-13 for some mild kissing and innuendo, the discovery of a skeleton, and possibly a little mild bad language, though I can't right now remember any words used in particular.  It could almost swing a PG rating.

"True Strength" by Kevin Sorbo

I wrote this review back in May when I was visiting my parents, and then I didn't post it right away because I was in the middle of the Little Women read-along, and it just got shoved so far down on my post list I forgot about it!  So here it is at last :-)

This is not a book I anticipated reading.  I've never particularly been a fan of Kevin Sorbo, though I've seen a few episodes of Hercules here and there since I have several friends who are fans.  And I recently saw Shadow on the Mesa (2013), an enjoyable made-for-TV western that features Sorbo.  I mentioned that movie to my mom, asking if she's seen it because I believe it aired on the Hallmark channel, and I know she enjoys Hallmark movies.  She did see it, and she asked if I'd read Sorbo's autobiography.  I was like, "Um, no, I'm not especially a fan."  She said, "You should read it!  I think you'd really like it.  He's a Christian, and it's all about how his faith saw him through this really awful illness."

Well, my mom probably knows my reading taste better than anyone else, so if she says I would probably like a book, I generally try it.  I tried out the ebook version on her Kindle, and was quickly hooked, much to my great surprise!  Sorbo tells his story very compellingly, and it feels very much like it was written by him, not entirely ghost-written by some professional.  I have no way of knowing if that's true, but that's the impression I got.  Several of the chapters are by other people, including his wife Sam and costars from Hercules, like Bruce Campbell and Michael Hurst.  They share their perspective on how Sorbo handled his illness and how it changed him, that sort of thing.

Basically, back in the '90s while on hiatus from filming Hercules, Kevin Sorbo suffered an aneurysm and several consequent strokes, which left him with lasting health problems.  This book is about his struggle to recover from the strokes and deal with his wobbly health, and how he finally learned to accept that his life would never go back to "normal."

Sorbo was raised a Lutheran, though he later began attending a different church with his wife.  He speaks frankly of his reliance on God during his struggles, and also how he questioned why God would allow him to become so very sick.  However, there are also a lot of obscenities in this book, mainly in the dialog, and I would not recommend it to young people as a result.  He doesn't take God's name in vain, it's all the more crass language you'd expect from Hollywood actors, etc.  

If you're a fan of Sorbo's, or enjoy reading about people dealing with major illnesses, and don't mind the rough language, you'd probably like this book.

If This was a Movie, I Would Rate It:  R for language and occasional non-graphic sexual references.

"West of Sunset" by Stewart O'Nan

I didn't think it was possible for me to feel sorrier for F. Scott Fitzgerald, but I was wrong.  This jewel of a novel depicts his last few years, as he struggles toward oblivion in Hollywood, working on a string of mediocre scripts for unappreciative filmmakers.  I've never read a lengthy biography of Fitzgerald, so I don't know how many details here are pulled from life and how many are added by O'Nan -- this is a novel, after all, not a strict biography.  I would assume that the bones are real, and O'Nan has simply given them flesh and motion.

The bones, then, are these:  The Great Depression is on, and Scott's beloved wife, Zelda, is descending into hereditary madness.  She's living at a mental hospital near Asheville, NC (not far from the Biltmore, if you've heard of that).  Their daughter, Scottie, is off at prep school.  Scott himself moves to Hollywood to earn money by writing screenplays.  He's trying to pay for Zelda's care and Scottie's schooling, plus pay off debts he incurred with the Roaring Twenties lifestyle he and Zelda were famous for.  In Hollywood, he meets a younger woman, a society columnist, and has a tempestuous affair with her.  He lives next to Humphrey Bogart for a while, and I think the scenes with Bogie were my favorites, as O'Nan captured his speech rhythms beautifully.  Anyway, Scott works on his last novel and tries to make a go of screenwriting, and eventually dies a dissipated, middle-aged shadow of his youthful self.

O'Nan takes this bleak story and crafts it into a cautionary tale of what happens when talent gets wasted and opportunities get squandered.  But more than that, he makes all the major characters heartbreakingly sympathetic.  Scott, Zelda, Scottie, even the new girlfriend Sheila -- I cared about all of them by the end, and didn't want the looming tragedy of Scott's death to befall them.

But then, when Scott did die, it wasn't depressing at all.  His death felt inevitable, but not tragic.  Not quite the emotional outcome I was expecting.  Huh.

Obviously, there's a lot of unsavory stuff going on in this novel.  Marital infidelity and alcoholism are the biggies, and the story as a whole is not what I'd term "nice."  There's very little bad language, which surprised me.  Oh, and of course Ernest Hemingway is here, angry and bitter and sometimes downright mean.  Nothing unexpected, I must admit.  I love the way both Hemingway and Fitzgerald wrote, but they themselves were less than admirable people.

Particularly Good Bits:

There were years like phantoms, like fog.  Often he wondered if certain memories of his had really taken place (p. 28).

He was a writer -- all he wanted from this world were the makings of another truer to his heart (p. 53).

He was over at Universal, adapting his last play, a task Scott imagined was like slowly poisoning your own child (p. 74).

If he'd ever belonged anywhere, those places were long gone, the happiness he recalled there as fleeting as the seasons (p. 208).

For years her dabbling had struck him as slapdash and glib, lacking the discipline of the professional.  Now he envied her simple love of creation.  He'd written too much for money (p. 247).


If This was a Movie, I Would Rate It:  R for adult dialog and sexual situations.

"Beautiful Ruins" by Jess Walter

This is one of those books that make me want to give up writing in despair of ever creating anything that comes close to this kind of mastery.  I'm not saying this is a great book, mind you.  But it's written very, very well, and I admire that.

Jess Walter intertwines the lives of four protagonists and several lesser characters, allowing their connected stories to unfold slowly and not particularly linearly.  Pieces of the puzzle fall into their places at different moments, so that by the end of the book, you have the whole picture.  But in the middle of the book, that picture is very fragmented, and I spent quite a bit of time wondering how it would all mesh.  

Here is the basic story:  In the early 1960s, while Richard Burton and Elizabeth Taylor are filming Cleopatra in Italy, a young actress called Dee Moray leaves the production and ends up at a very small hotel in a very small Italian town.  The hotel's owner, Pasquale, falls a little bit in love with Dee Moray.  And then a whole bunch of stuff happens.  The rest of the story takes place in the present, revolving around Dee's son Pat and the way he tries to piece his fractured life back together.  There's also a WWII veteran trying to write a book, a Hollywood producer's assistant longing to make just one good movie, an aspiring screenwriter searching for meaning in his life, and Richard Burton himself playing a small but significant part.

As you can see, it's a little hard to explain.  The story bounces back and forth from the 1960s to the present, and to points in between too.  But it all makes sense in the end, and even ends pretty happily.  I wasn't very hopeful for a happy ending through most of the book, so I was pleasantly surprised.  This is one of those books where all the characters have problems and issues and hang-ups and are very troubled in their own way.  None of them are very happy through most of the book, and I have to admit the book as a whole is a little too depressing for me to want to read it again.


Particularly Good Bits:

He had never really mastered English, but he'd studied enough to have a healthy fear of its random severity, the senseless brutality of its conjugations; it was unpredictable, like a cross-bred dog (p. 9).

Weren't movies his generation's faith anyway -- its true religion?  Wasn't the hteater our temple, the one place we enter separately but emerge from two hours later together, with the same experience, same guided emotions, same moral? (p. 21).

It was curious what trying to speak English had done lately to his mind; it reminded him of studying poetry in college, words gaining and losing their meaning, overlapping with images, the curious echo of ideas behind the words people used (p. 112).

What if the only way to save the ones you love... is to leave them behind? (p. 126).

People can handle an unjust world; it's when the world becomes arbitrary and inexplicable that order breaks down (p. 148).

This is what happens when you live in dreams, he thought:  you dream this and you dream that and you sleep right through your life (p. 218).

We want what we want.  At home, she works herself into a frenzy worrying about what she isn't -- and perhaps loses track of just where she is (p. 301).

If This was a Movie, I Would Rate It:  R for sexual situations, drug use, adult dialog, and language.

"The Abracadabra Kid" by Sid Fleischman

I can't remember which Sid Fleischman book I read first.  I think it was probably By the Great Horn Spoon.  But it might have been Humbug or Jingo Django.  Or even The Whipping Boy, which I didn't actually realize was written by the same guy until I started reading this book.  I associated his name with the off-kilter humor of his children's books set in the west, like the first two I mentioned.  A few months ago, I stumbled across SidFleischman.com, which features a page of tips for writers drawn from his autobiography, aka this book.

I knew at once that I wanted to read that autobiography, but my library didn't have it, so I put it on my Christmas list and, lucky me, my mom got it for me!  Of the five books I got for Christmas, this is the one I chose to read first, and I'm so glad I did, as it's loads of fun.  

Fleischman begins with his childhood, particularly his love of doing magic tricks.  He had quite some success as a magician, and the first book he ever published, Between Cocktails, was a collection of simple tricks for amazing your friends.  While detailing his youthful exploits, he points on what events, people, and places would later inspire some of his books.  He infuses his narrative with humor and snappy descriptions, as anyone familiar with his novels might expect.

I think the biggest surprise I got while reading this is that Sid Fleischman wrote a novel named Blood Alley, which he then turned into a screenplay at the behest of none other than my beloved John Wayne -- Wayne starred in the movie version, along with Lauren Bacall.  I actually have Blood Alley (1955) as part of a collection of John Wayne films, but I haven't seen it yet -- I plan to watch it very soon.  

If you're a fan of his novels, or are looking for a good book about what it's like to be a writer, you can't go wrong here!

"Hollywood Buzz (Starring Pucci Lewis)" by Margit Liesche

I love classic Hollywood and the WWII era, so it's no surprise I enjoyed this book. Hollywood Buzz (Starring Pucci Lewis) by Margit Liesche is a fast-paced mix of mystery, excitement, Hollywood glamour, and a little romance thrown in just for fun.

The lively heroine, Pucci Lewis, is a WASP -- as in Women Airforce Service Pilot -- who also happens to be good at undercover work. She gets assigned to Hollywood to see to it that a film about the WASPs is portraying them accurately, and also to try to find out if a fellow pilot's recent accident was the result of sabotage or not. Pucci tackles both parts of her assignment with a determination and bouncy charm that kept making me try to decide whether they should cast Claudette Colbert or Ginger Rogers in the role. The supporting cast includes an attentive screenwriter, a mysterious Gypsy housekeeper, a handsome former pilot, and none other than screen legend Bela Lugosi.

Hollywood Buzz is a fun, fast read, perfect for the beach blanket or hammock this summer. It's actually a sequel to Liesche's debut novel, Lipstick and Lies, which also stars Pucci Lewis, and which I intend to get from the library myself this summer.

(Originally posted on Inscriptions on May 11, 2009.)

"Richard Burton: Prince of Players" by Michael Munn

I am hereby declaring Michael Munn to be my favorite biographer of movie stars.

Actually, I've been a fan of his for a few years -- I bought a copy of his John Wayne: The Man Behind the Myth without ever having read it, which is odd, because I'd never managed to finish reading a biography of John Wayne before. They always angered me, because if they were written while he was still alive and acting, they were generally hyped-up image-creators; if they were written more recently, they focused on his flaws and failings and tried to destroy his image. But I bought Munn's book because from the back cover and the few pages I skimmed, I learned he had actually met John Wayne and had respect for him, as a man and as an actor. It turned out to be one of the best book purchases I've ever made. Munn treated Wayne as a human, neither deifying nor demonizing him, which is exactly how I wanted my hero treated.

So when I saw Munn's biography of Richard Burton on the "New Books" shelf at the library, I picked it up. And since the index at the back of the book listed no fewer than nine references to Hamlet, I had to get it.

Richard Burton is not one of my very most favorite actors -- he's probably in my top thirty. I enjoy his work, I've seen quite a few of his movies and own three or four, and I love his turn as Hamlet on stage. But he's not someone I'd seek out a biography of. Still, since Michael Munn had written this one, I figured it was worth a read. And I was right.

Michael Munn knew Burton personally and worked with him several times, so the book is full of first-hand accounts and anecdotes, as well as stories told to the author by Burton's friends and colleagues. And once again, Munn's subject emerges as a fully-rounded human being, a man with a talent for acting and a taste for alchohol and women. Munn neither condones nor condemns Burton's faults, he simply tries to get his readers to understand him. And what more could anyone ask from a biographer?

I'm going to see if the library has any more of Munn's books, as I see he's written about other actors I like, such as Jimmy Stewart, Charlton Heston, Kirk Douglas, and Clint Eastwood. If you like learning about Hollywood and the real people behind its glitzy images, I suggest you do the same.

(Originally posted on Inscriptions on Nov. 13, 2008.)

"John Wayne: The Man Behind the Myth" by Michael Munn

Tonight I finished reading John Wayne: The Man Behind the Myth by Michael Munn. It's the first biography of John Wayne I've ever managed to finish reading. I don't usually read biographies of celebrities that I admire, because too often they end up ruining my idolization by waving all sorts of dirty laundry in my face. In fact, up to this point, the only celebrity biography I'd made it through is Dream Lovers: The Magnificent Shattered Lives of Bobby Darin and Sandra Dee by their son, Dodd Darin. (I own that particular book, and now also this one about the Duke.)

I think the difference between these two books and the other celebrity biographies I've tried--and failed--to read is that these are written with real love and/or respect for the people they're describing. Michael Munn actually met John Wayne in the 70's, and his description of the time he spent in the Duke's company is especially touching. The book basically details John Wayne's whole life, from birth in Winterset, IA, to his death in CA. Munn discusses every movie the Duke made, and makes extensive use of interviews with others that worked on those films, letting them tell the story for him. Through these first-person reminiscences, we get to see different sides of John Wayne's personality down through the years.

For instance, here's something Lee Marvin told the author about a conversation he had with John Wayne on the set of The Commancheros:

"Duke said to me, 'I think there's a great part for you in The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance.' I said, 'Which part would that be?' He said, 'Liberty Valance.' I said, 'Who's the man who shot him?' He said, 'Me.' I said, 'Duke, if anyone's gonna shoot me, I can't think of anyone I'd rather be shot by.' And he was as good as his word." (pg 231)

Munn also writes about the Communist plot to assassinate John Wayne, which I hadn't heard about before. It seems pretty credible, and although I can't link you to any text from the book concerning it, here's something in another bookthat gives you a general idea. I was anti-Communist before, but now...whooo, they tried to kill John Wayne! At least three times! Yeeeeahhhhh. I think I'm gonna go burn anything remotely red-colored in my closet...

Anyway, it's a great book, and I kinda want to just start reading it over again right away. I enjoyed it that much!

(Originally posted on Hamlette's Soliloquy on Aug 2, 2005.)