The Ultimate stingWritten by Holly and Shirley Yanez
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It makes for an interesting, intriguing read that stretches beyond every page with breathlessly entertaining yarns. This straightforwardly funny, captivatingly offbeat, full blown, quirky page-turner leaves reader in stitches. Humor is something we could all use more of in our lives, especially kind of British satire found on every page within four chapters of this little pink treasure. One liners galore, idiots, arrogant Hollywood agents, ladies of loose virtues, self centered celebrity and on and on. A candid display of so many of Hollywood’s characters is magic formula that makes this book, an all time favorite, wittiest, funniest laugh out loud tale of true passion, persistence and probably to much pot smoking. It’s a memoir, a travel guide, a “how to” Hollywood and an unorthodox, read between lines, attack on ego Freud would be proud of but most of all it’s an enchanting and captivating rollercoaster ride with two people who live each day as if it were their last, in front seat. Sometimes irreverent sarcasm is overstated and sometimes it hits you in face but you will laugh from second you pick it up to moment you put it down.
The Britsh authors of Looking for Harvey Weinstein
No Stars for the EclipseWritten by Robert Levin
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What’s more, we can be reasonably certain that popular denouement of “happy ending”—the product of an inevitable backlash—would never have been developed.
So while it’s often, for me, like feeling obliged to respect whatever that was that Marcel Marceau used to do, even as you knew that one more minute of it and your lungs were going to erupt with blood, I’m more than prepared to honor “Old Master’s” achievements. It’s just that I’m not what you’d call a huge fan. What puts me off most is...well...it’s His LORDLY attitude. I could forgive Him a lot—yes, even those tedious revivals of His wind-and-water specials that take out half a state—were He less disdainful of His audience, less willfully opaque and ambiguous. I know this “mysterious ways” thing is a cornerstone of His persona and I can understand His reluctance to give it up. But, bordering on pathological, His aversion to making His meanings known is wearing a little thin, don’t you think?
I’ll allow that, however disappointing it may be, it’s ultimately of small consequence when He mounts a shoddy eclipse. But it’s something else again when, for one especially egregious example, He leaves you to blow out all your circuits trying to figure just where Hannity and Colmes fit into notion that if you’re on planet it’s for a reason.
Former contributor to The Village Voice and Rolling Stone. Coauthor and coeditor, respectively, of two collections of essays about rock and jazz in the '60s: "Music & Politics" and "Giants of Black Music."