Wayne hits bottom with sleaze that insults its subject. As in Gable's Women, Crawford's Men, Cooper's Women, Ava's Men, etc., she marries scissors-and-paste research with borrowings (this time from James Spada's 1987 Grace: The Seven Lives of a Princess), adding invented dialogue and dirt from a confidant willing to tell all. The blabbermouth is " 'Brian Evans' (not his real name), a close friend of Grace Kelly who prefers to remain anonymous." Why does Brian call Grace a python? "Oh, she wraps her arms around you and won't let go. She makes a man feel like king of the world. . .The first night we were together, I did not have the urge to take a shower afterward. That never happened to me before." Says lover Gary Cooper: "She looked like she could be a cold dish with a man until you get her pants down and then she'd explode." Says Wayne about Grace at an elegant dinner party: "After a few too many, she sneezed and popped all the buttons off her evening gown." And Rock Hudson adds: "Her Royal Highness and I were at a Hollywood party, drinking until we were ripped to the tits." Recycled again is Grace's bed-hopping with William Holden, Clark Gable, Aly Khan, Oleg Cassini, Spencer Tracy, Bing Crosby, Ray Milland, and adultery with Cary Grant, plus less illustrious bedmates who knew Grace was "an easy lay." The actual biography is tissue-thin, the Monaco years barely acknowleged. Not a word by Wayne is charged with life: Grace's death has the hypnotic grip of watching goldfish chase falling food.