FRONT AND CENTER

by John Houseman ‧ RELEASE DATE: Nov. 1, 1979

Is there life after Orson? Absolutely. Rumanian-born, British-bred John Houseman went on from his legendary 1930s collaborations with Welles (recalled in the mesmerizing Run-Through, 1971) to an independent career as film producer and theater director--and this second memoir covers his year-by-year labors up to 1955. (At this rate, there'll be at least two more installments.) Still, it must be admitted that, without the demonic Welles around, Houseman's career makes sturdy rather than thrilling reading. He begins in 1942, three weeks after Pearl Harbor, when he accepted an invitation from playwright Robert Sherwood (FDR's media aide) to drop Hollywood for patriotic service: producing N.Y.-based ""Voice of America"" broadcasts for overseas--a gloriously polylingual, often manic job which mired Houseman in some early Red-baiting as well as bureaucratic conflicts (the ruthless OSS mentality vs. Sherwood's ethics) and equal-time rivalries (at one point the staff had to create an AFL marching song on the spot to balance a CIO song's air-time). Then back to L.A.--though he always arrives there filled ""with loathing and gloom""--for over ten years of producing movies: The Blue Dahlia, with Raymond Chandler completing the screenplay during eight count-down days of cheerful nonstop inebriation; Max Ophuls' Letter from an Unknown Woman (a disaster then, a classic now); The Bad and the Beautiful (Houseman hated the title); Julius Caesar (Brando as Antony--Houseman's ""mad but brilliant idea""); and Lust for Life. But while almost always employed by one crass studio or another, workaholic Houseman couldn't stay away from theater: he directed Mary Martin (who called the shots) in Lute Song; he founded an L.A. company with ""all the usual characteristics of a John Houseman enterprise--grandiose conception, no money and little preparation"" (presenting the world premiere of Galileo in tormented tandem with nervous star Charles Laughton and ""brutal and abusive"" author Brecht); and he triumphed in N.Y. with King Lear and Coriolanus (infuriating MGM by casting blacklisted Will Geer in the latter). He also found time to exchange a loose lifestyle (Joan Fontaine was ""an adorable mistress"") for marriage and kids at age 50. But despite Houseman's charmingly self-deprecating remarks about his fearfulness, indolence, and selfishness, he really remains quite aloof throughout; and ironically, the only emotionally-riveting moment here is his disastrous London reunion with Orson--when a careless Houseman put-down provoked a public Welles tantrum (""For twenty years, you son of a bitch, you've been trying to humiliate and destroy me!""). So, without the creative Welles/ Houseman fireworks or any affecting backstage drama, this is no Run-Through; but, with acerbic close-ups of Hollywood in the studios' last heyday, it is show-biz autobiography at its most literate and leisurely--shrewd and thorough and drily amusing.

Pub Date: Nov. 1, 1979

ISBN: N/A

Page Count: -

Publisher: Simon & Schuster

Review Posted Online: N/A

Kirkus Reviews Issue: Nov. 1, 1979

Categories: NONFICTION