Edgy, frenetic, and entertaining reports from the room that launched a thousand deals.
From veteran Hollywood coauthor Rensin (Tim Allen’s Don’t Stand Too Close to a Naked Man, 1994, etc.), an oral history of a crucial Tinseltown institution, related by some folks who make Machiavelli look like a pussycat.
Since the day they filmed The Squaw Man, the only way to become an agent, with all the appurtenant expense account rights and backstage privileges, was to start in the mailroom wearing a 36-short suit. Of course, you had to have a close relative in the industry. Now, to be a suit to the stars, any size suit (or even a dress) will do. Nepotism, though, is still a good thing. Oppressive work conditions have continued at William Morris, MCA, ICA, CCA, Intertalent, and wherever else the new guys dream of delivering scripts to naked actresses. (A few are lucky; others encounter Charles Grodin in boxer shorts.) Drive Mrs. Lastfogel, steam open the mail, fill a theater seat and the agent’s fountain pen, eavesdrop on every phone call, get coffee, score drugs, squirm until you get everything right, and you may earn access to the Hillcrest and the best clubs on both coasts. It’s all part of the training program Rensin’s schmoozing, spritzing interviewees went through, working their way from dispatch to assistant’s desks and eventually becoming agents in the Nightclub, Band, Variety, TV Guest, or Literary departments—or quitting. The talk is fast and frank. One agent is characterized as “a prick of pricks,” another as “a pompous prick and petty despot.” A thought for another: “May he rot in hell.” Mailroom alumni include Wally Amos, David Geffen, Barry Diller, and The Great Ovitz, often confused with The Great Oz. Entertainment industry junkies may enjoy taking an armchair meeting with these people—no stepping into Ovitz’s Guccis, but no fear of getting fired either.
Edgy, frenetic, and entertaining reports from the room that launched a thousand deals.Pub Date: Feb. 1, 2003
ISBN: 0-345-44234-2
Page Count: 464
Publisher: Ballantine
Review Posted Online: May 19, 2010
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Dec. 15, 2002
BOOK REVIEW
BOOK REVIEW
BOOK REVIEW
Before Toni Frissell (190788) became the first woman staff photographer for Sports Illustrated (which was long before the first swimsuit issue), she had already revolutionized fashion photography by shooting models outdoors for such magazines as Vogue and Harper's Bazaar. She'd also followed American troops through Europe in WW II, slogging through the mud and having her jeep hit by shell fragments. In addition to her mother's fashion and war photos, Stafford includes a lot of portraits of the rich and famous—a pensive, liver-spotted Konrad Adenauer; a glowering Churchill; a cocky young Kirk Douglas; William Styron sitting in a graveyard; JFK and Jacqueline Bouvier (who edited the book, and to whom it is dedicated) at their wedding. There are also some standard photojournalism shots chronicling black life in the South at the beginning of the civil rights movement. By far the most lively pictures, however, fall under the heading, ``Sport.'' Sport, in this case, might as well be a patrician synonym for hunting. Frissell's shots of horses, hunters at rest, and the eager snouts of hounds suggest that in hunting she found one of the few social activities that sanctioned the kind of avidness she brought to her work behind the lens. (First serial to Town and Country)
Pub Date: Oct. 21, 1994
ISBN: 0-385-47188-2
Page Count: 192
Publisher: Doubleday
Review Posted Online: May 19, 2010
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Sept. 15, 1994
Through thoughtful essays, Ewing (Breaking Bounds, not reviewed) transforms a fantastic collection of photographs into a history of photography itself. With careful arrangement and stylish writing free of art- critic blather, Ewing has rendered accessible an almost intimidatingly wide range of works. The introduction covers attitudes toward photographed nudity (and therefore toward sexuality), beginning with a photograph of two topless Zulu women published in a British magazine circa 1879. Setting a pattern for the remainder of the book, Ewing discusses how these photographs reproduced their subjects and simultaneously served as a mirror for contemporary British culture. Chapters carry vague titles like ``Probes'' and ``Metamorphosis,'' which are pithily defined (in these cases as ``the realm of scientific exploration'' and ``the body transformed,'' respectively). Each section starts with a mini- essay expounding a basic principle and tying together the photos. For example, ``Flesh'' links Regina DeLuise's nude woman gripping the heavy, knotted rope of a tire swing and Robert Davies's close- up of a navel. ``Eros'' ponders the personal nature of sexuality, and an 1865 photograph of one woman inserting an umbrella in a second, tuba-playing model's behind is grouped with some squeaky- clean, pin-up-style shots from the 1950s. The shocking chapter entitled ``Estrangement'' contains a range of striking, often disturbing images, including a servant crucified for killing his boss's son and a grotesquely obese sideshow man with a relatively tiny towel placed over his behind, as well as a series showing ``the Hilton Siamese Twins of Texas'' cheerfully swimming, playing tennis, dancing, and flirting in tandem. Some ground is covered twice, and there is an occasional oversight (the essay on ``Estrangement'' brings up the 19th-century popularity of photographs of corpses of loved ones, but no examples are offered). Overall, however, the result is engrossing and the balance of text and photos just right. Stunning, clever, and very provoking.
Pub Date: Nov. 1, 1994
ISBN: 0-8118-0762-2
Page Count: 448
Publisher: Chronicle Books
Review Posted Online: May 19, 2010
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Sept. 15, 1994
BOOK REVIEW
© Copyright 2025 Kirkus Media LLC. All Rights Reserved.
Follow
Popular in this Genre
We can’t wait for you to join Kirkus!
It’s free and takes less than 10 seconds!
Already have an account? Log in.
OR
Sign in with GoogleTrouble signing in? Retrieve credentials.
Welcome Back!
OR
Sign in with GoogleTrouble signing in? Retrieve credentials.
