Highly entertaining memoir from the beloved star, the first star I remember feeling sorry for because his run of luck with projects was so bad in the 80s. He always was a good raconteur and is so here (props to his ghost writer who gets the book to sound pure Burt).
We get lots of stories about his dad, who was so formative, but never told Burt he loved him and was a hard bastard; his longing to spend time with son Quentin (why only one child though?); he says he never loved Loni just sort of went along with it; Sally Field was the one who got away; Hal Needham was great; Darren McGavin was a prick on Riverboat; Marlon Brando hated the fact Reynolds looked like him; he didn't get Paul Thomas Anderson (thwarting another comeback); he regrets the Centrefold; loves Deliverance but fell out with John Boorman after turning down Zardoz due to injury; was shunned after being injured making City Heat and rumours spread he had AIDS; he was hit on by Greta Garbo (!) and became great mates with Bette Davis.
Burt is impulsive, needy, insecure, honest, a little dumb. He adored acting. A fun book.
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