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Everywhere an Oink Oink: An Embittered, Dyspeptic, and Accurate Report of Forty Years in Hollywood
Award-winning playwright, screenwriter, and director David Mamet shares scandalous and laugh-out-loud tales from his four decades in Hollywood where he worked with some of the biggest names in movies.
David Mamet went to Hollywood on top—a super successful playwright summoned west in 1980 to write a vehicle for Jack Nicholson. He arrived just in time to meet the luminaries of old Hollywood and revel in the friendship of giants like Paul Newman, Mike Nichols, Bob Evans, and Sue Mengers. Over the next forty years, Mamet wrote dozens of scripts, was fired off dozens of movies, and directed eleven himself.
In Everywhere an Oink Oink , he revels of the taut and gag-filled professionalism of the film set. He depicts the ever-fickle studios and producers who piece by piece eat the artist alive. And he ponders the art of filmmaking and the genius of those who made our finest movies. With the bravado and flair of Mamet’s best theatrical work, this memoir describes a world gone by, some of our most beloved film stars with their hair down, and how it all got washed away by digital media and the woke brigade. The book is illustrated throughout with three-dozen of Mamet’s pungent cartoons and caricatures.
David Mamet went to Hollywood on top—a super successful playwright summoned west in 1980 to write a vehicle for Jack Nicholson. He arrived just in time to meet the luminaries of old Hollywood and revel in the friendship of giants like Paul Newman, Mike Nichols, Bob Evans, and Sue Mengers. Over the next forty years, Mamet wrote dozens of scripts, was fired off dozens of movies, and directed eleven himself.
In Everywhere an Oink Oink , he revels of the taut and gag-filled professionalism of the film set. He depicts the ever-fickle studios and producers who piece by piece eat the artist alive. And he ponders the art of filmmaking and the genius of those who made our finest movies. With the bravado and flair of Mamet’s best theatrical work, this memoir describes a world gone by, some of our most beloved film stars with their hair down, and how it all got washed away by digital media and the woke brigade. The book is illustrated throughout with three-dozen of Mamet’s pungent cartoons and caricatures.
256 pages, Hardcover
First published December 5, 2023
213 people are currently reading
795 people want to read
About the author
David Mamet
262 books745 followersDavid Alan Mamet is an American author, essayist, playwright, screenwriter and film director. His works are known for their clever, terse, sometimes vulgar dialogue and arcane stylized phrasing, as well as for his exploration of masculinity.
As a playwright, he received Tony nominations for Glengarry Glen Ross (1984) and Speed-the-Plow (1988). As a screenwriter, he received Oscar nominations for The Verdict (1982) and Wag the Dog (1997).
Mamet's recent books include The Old Religion (1997), a novel about the lynching of Leo Frank; Five Cities of Refuge: Weekly Reflections on Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers and Deuteronomy (2004), a Torah commentary, with Rabbi Lawrence Kushner; The Wicked Son (2006), a study of Jewish self-hatred and antisemitism; and Bambi vs. Godzilla, an acerbic commentary on the movie business.
As a playwright, he received Tony nominations for Glengarry Glen Ross (1984) and Speed-the-Plow (1988). As a screenwriter, he received Oscar nominations for The Verdict (1982) and Wag the Dog (1997).
Mamet's recent books include The Old Religion (1997), a novel about the lynching of Leo Frank; Five Cities of Refuge: Weekly Reflections on Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers and Deuteronomy (2004), a Torah commentary, with Rabbi Lawrence Kushner; The Wicked Son (2006), a study of Jewish self-hatred and antisemitism; and Bambi vs. Godzilla, an acerbic commentary on the movie business.
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January 6, 2024DNF Well, there it is, my first unfinished book of 2024. Everywhere an Oink Oink: An Embittered, Dyspeptic, and Accurate Report of Forty Years in Hollywood by David Mamet has an accurate title: the book is embittered and dyspeptic. Readers are not, as a rule, quitters but sometimes you find yourself disliking an unpleasant book so much that there is no alternative. This book is basically a bunch of rants interspersed with snippets of Hollywood stories. If the author disliked the movie industry so much, one wonders why he stayed for forty years. I will not be rating this book.
July 24, 2023
I have a feeling only the most diehard David Mamet fans will enjoy, or even understand, this book. I'd hoped for a straightforward account of living in Hollywood—meeting huge celebs like Jack Nicholson, dealing with the dolt studio executives, etc. —as the book description promised. Instead, there is so much word salad here that many times I had zero idea what Mamet was talking about (I'm sure he would just tell me that I'm not intellectual enough for his rants).
However, then there would be flashes of the wit and sensibility that made Mamet so successful. I'd sit up, thinking, "Ah ha! NOW he's going to enlighten and entertain!" but then it would all slide backward into word salad again.
I think a very strong, very brave editor was needed, but who is going to stand up to David Mamet and tell him his writing is incomprehensible? The whole point of the book is David insisting that his writing is genius and those who don't get it are stupid plebeians.
I just reviewed Everywhere an Oink Oink by David Mamet. #NetGalley Thank you David Mamet, the publisher and NetGalley for an ARC of this memoir in exchange for an honest review.
However, then there would be flashes of the wit and sensibility that made Mamet so successful. I'd sit up, thinking, "Ah ha! NOW he's going to enlighten and entertain!" but then it would all slide backward into word salad again.
I think a very strong, very brave editor was needed, but who is going to stand up to David Mamet and tell him his writing is incomprehensible? The whole point of the book is David insisting that his writing is genius and those who don't get it are stupid plebeians.
I just reviewed Everywhere an Oink Oink by David Mamet. #NetGalley Thank you David Mamet, the publisher and NetGalley for an ARC of this memoir in exchange for an honest review.
July 15, 2023
Literate and fascinating a bitter but funny polemic against the stupid people running the movie business(and there seem to be plenty of them). Mamet displays an encyclopedic knowledge of film and literature and gossip. Definitely worth your time.. Read it.
February 26, 2024
Very disappointed in this. Mamet is a brilliant writer but you certainly couldn't prove it by this. He emphatically tells us how movies are a series of essential scenes, many just seconds, that the writer coordinates to walk the viewer through to show the story exactly as the writer intends for it to be told, and for that viewer to get exactly the feelings the writer wants them to feel. It's a big reason why he so hates all the efforts, all too often successful, by others, usually hacks, to make changes when they don't have any understanding of the real story being told.
How sad that he didn't bring that philosophy to this book, which is just a jumble of scenes that together are almost completely incoherent. About the only things that come through loud and clear are that he has a VERY high opinion of himself as a writer (deserved) a very low opinion of almost everyone else in Hollywood (mostly deserved) and a love of dirty but sadly mostly unfunny jokes and wit. I went soft and gave this 3 stars instead of 2 becuse of who he is (was?) not what this book actually is.
Not recommended.
How sad that he didn't bring that philosophy to this book, which is just a jumble of scenes that together are almost completely incoherent. About the only things that come through loud and clear are that he has a VERY high opinion of himself as a writer (deserved) a very low opinion of almost everyone else in Hollywood (mostly deserved) and a love of dirty but sadly mostly unfunny jokes and wit. I went soft and gave this 3 stars instead of 2 becuse of who he is (was?) not what this book actually is.
Not recommended.
June 13, 2025
I was excited to dig into David Mamet’s book, eager to read an insider’s view of Hollywood and enjoy his incredible writing. Unfortunately, I had such a hard time understanding the flow, or lack thereof, of his thoughts, that I spent most of the book trying to figure out what he was talking about! There were moments of humor and some interesting tidbits about the movie business, but saying his tone was “dyspeptic” is an understatement. I can’t imagine anyone he wrote about is ever going to want to work with him again! I finished the book, but can’t say I enjoyed it.
January 18, 2024
Træd nærmere, træd nærmere! Se med jeres egne øjne David Mamets Megalomaniske Masturbatorium. Vær vidne til den magiske manusforfatter sidste store trick: med al ihærdighed forsvinder han så langt op i sin egen røv, at alle og enhver kan skue detaljerne af hans hæmorider i mundvigen.
Emmer af den meget specifikke type arrogance kun et støvet fossil, der selvindbildsk ser sig selv som en ny super-art, kan prale af at have. Så forbandet enerverende at manden tydeligt har ordet i sin magt men ikke kan forfatte en interessant tanke om det ‘woke hollywood’, han føler sig så forbitret af.
Emmer af den meget specifikke type arrogance kun et støvet fossil, der selvindbildsk ser sig selv som en ny super-art, kan prale af at have. Så forbandet enerverende at manden tydeligt har ordet i sin magt men ikke kan forfatte en interessant tanke om det ‘woke hollywood’, han føler sig så forbitret af.
April 9, 2024
Rambling piece of worthless nonsense, one of the worst books about Hollywood I've ever read from a guy who can't tell a decent story. Seriously. If you think Mamet is some wonder with words, try reading this childish crap that is filled with humorless "jokes," factual errors, and misinterpretations of films and performers.
That he finds Frank Sinatra the perfect actor but uses pages to slam Jerry Lewis shows Mamet lacks taste or humor. The snobby book is filled with his attempt at jokes and simplistic cartoons but not one is funny.
He also wastes too much space on his love of old movies stars, the need to analyze Jewish influence on the movie business, overpraising himself and his actress daughter, and inexplicable rehashes of his own previously written stories or those from others in the movie business. It's like the guy sat down with a book contract and spewed whatever came to the top of his head with no research nor worry about ridiculous repetition.
It got to the point where his thoughts were so off base and his misstatements of "facts" were so absurd that I took the whole book as fictionalized reality. For example, he makes an absurd statement about two actors he thought had similarities: "Cary Grant grew up, an orphan, in London, and Don Ameche was raised by his immigrant father in a bar in Kenosha, Wisconsin." Not sure how he sees those two as grouped together but his summary of their backgrounds is wrong or incomplete.
Just do a quick scan of Wikipedia and you'll find that Grant was NOT "an orphan" and has a much more interesting parental upbringing story; Ameche, who Mamet implies was not raised by a mother, was actually the second of eight kids so she must have been around long enough to procreate until Don was older. There are so many mistakes or bouts of misinformed thoughts that I wondered if Mamet has a type of mental illness or if he is just ignorant.
There are many in show business that won't like this because the author slams all sorts of people unfairly; I simply hated the book because it's poorly written, has standup comic-like stories with no real beginning, middle, and end, and that the undeserved self-praise gets old fast.
He mentions that when he came to California early in his career, he spent a year taught by famous acting coach Sanford Meisner. "I had no idea what he was talking about." That's exactly how I felt reading this book, except I think David Mamet actually has no idea what he's talking about and simply uses verbal camouflage to try to make others think he's an intelligent genius. This book's cover reveals that he's just a pig at a typewriter cranking out hogwash.
That he finds Frank Sinatra the perfect actor but uses pages to slam Jerry Lewis shows Mamet lacks taste or humor. The snobby book is filled with his attempt at jokes and simplistic cartoons but not one is funny.
He also wastes too much space on his love of old movies stars, the need to analyze Jewish influence on the movie business, overpraising himself and his actress daughter, and inexplicable rehashes of his own previously written stories or those from others in the movie business. It's like the guy sat down with a book contract and spewed whatever came to the top of his head with no research nor worry about ridiculous repetition.
It got to the point where his thoughts were so off base and his misstatements of "facts" were so absurd that I took the whole book as fictionalized reality. For example, he makes an absurd statement about two actors he thought had similarities: "Cary Grant grew up, an orphan, in London, and Don Ameche was raised by his immigrant father in a bar in Kenosha, Wisconsin." Not sure how he sees those two as grouped together but his summary of their backgrounds is wrong or incomplete.
Just do a quick scan of Wikipedia and you'll find that Grant was NOT "an orphan" and has a much more interesting parental upbringing story; Ameche, who Mamet implies was not raised by a mother, was actually the second of eight kids so she must have been around long enough to procreate until Don was older. There are so many mistakes or bouts of misinformed thoughts that I wondered if Mamet has a type of mental illness or if he is just ignorant.
There are many in show business that won't like this because the author slams all sorts of people unfairly; I simply hated the book because it's poorly written, has standup comic-like stories with no real beginning, middle, and end, and that the undeserved self-praise gets old fast.
He mentions that when he came to California early in his career, he spent a year taught by famous acting coach Sanford Meisner. "I had no idea what he was talking about." That's exactly how I felt reading this book, except I think David Mamet actually has no idea what he's talking about and simply uses verbal camouflage to try to make others think he's an intelligent genius. This book's cover reveals that he's just a pig at a typewriter cranking out hogwash.
March 1, 2024
This has a lot of great one liners, a lot of crude and idiotic jokes,loads of anecdotes and
opinions and no structure to act as a guide or handrail.It is a stream of babble. It is short.
Pity the poor reader.
opinions and no structure to act as a guide or handrail.It is a stream of babble. It is short.
Pity the poor reader.
January 5, 2024
Loved it! Such a grand sense of humor!
July 21, 2024
This book is unreadably bad: long-winded, self-important, meandering, and worst of all, dull. What a waste of a great title.
December 5, 2024
One part fascinating Hollywood insight. One part grumpy old man telling everyone he is right about everything, things used to be better, and kids should stay off his lawn.
January 20, 2024
I thoroughly enjoyed this book - the title is quite accurate. I am a curmudgeon, and I love how Mamet looks straight into the zeitgeist and resolutely raises a middle finger. At times he waxes quite arrogant, but as brilliant as he is, I am happy to excuse him for it.
March 4, 2024
Everywhere an Oink Oink" by David Mamet is a sharp, satirical take on the state of contemporary politics. Mamet challenges readers to reconsider their perceptions of authority and to question the systems that shape our society. "Everywhere an Oink Oink" is an interesting insiders look at the world of stage and motion pictures. It was fast reading with a lot of humorous observations.
April 27, 2024
I am going to give Mamet the benefit of the doubt that he was hopped up on painkillers, cough medicine, or some other mind altering drug while writing this book. I think the book was orally dictated rather than written since much of it sounds like the mindless platitudes a drunk uncle would rant during a holiday gathering. On rare moments among the muck, bile, and pure cluelessness, Mamet provides an amusing story or anecdote.
Here's one:
Don Rickles early in his career spots Frank Sinatra at a club. He meekly approaches Frank, "Mr. Sinatra. I'm no one, but could I ask a favor. I'm playing here, and my wife is with me. It's her birthday. If, on your way out, you could stop at our table and simply say, 'Hi there, Don,' it would make her day."
Sinatra said nothing and walked on.
When he was leaving the club, Sinatra stopped by Rickles' table.
"Hi, Don," he said.
"Fuck you, Frank," Rickles said.
Frank dissolved, screaming with laugher and Don was made.
Even within this short example, I had to make several corrections to the bizarre punctuation and grammar that litters the book.
Essentially, the book falls into the genre of: Everything was great once, but now it sucks. Anyone who pitches you such a narrative, often is: a) completely deluded and privileged about how 'life' was; b) has lost their ability for critical analysis; and/or c) assumes their myopia and bias as some kind of charmed insight into the world. I am not going to wager what one afflicts Mamet, but he has become a character that even his own plays would have no room for.
Here's one:
Don Rickles early in his career spots Frank Sinatra at a club. He meekly approaches Frank, "Mr. Sinatra. I'm no one, but could I ask a favor. I'm playing here, and my wife is with me. It's her birthday. If, on your way out, you could stop at our table and simply say, 'Hi there, Don,' it would make her day."
Sinatra said nothing and walked on.
When he was leaving the club, Sinatra stopped by Rickles' table.
"Hi, Don," he said.
"Fuck you, Frank," Rickles said.
Frank dissolved, screaming with laugher and Don was made.
Even within this short example, I had to make several corrections to the bizarre punctuation and grammar that litters the book.
Essentially, the book falls into the genre of: Everything was great once, but now it sucks. Anyone who pitches you such a narrative, often is: a) completely deluded and privileged about how 'life' was; b) has lost their ability for critical analysis; and/or c) assumes their myopia and bias as some kind of charmed insight into the world. I am not going to wager what one afflicts Mamet, but he has become a character that even his own plays would have no room for.
January 7, 2024
I agree with the author. This is a work of genius.
January 27, 2024
A writer owes his audience more effort.
April 22, 2024
“They're on the Inside, Folks, they're on the inside: the freaks, the frauds, the recovering virgins, the betrayed and the betrayers. Here find salacious gossip posing as information, and reminiscences that may astound and disturb and, should you love the movies, bring to your lips a wry, sad smile.
These are from the horse's mouth, the horse being the last cogent survivor of Old Hollywood. And I alone am escaped to tell thee.
David Mamet
Santa Monica”
This book is fairly embittered and dyspeptic; it is also accurate and rather charming. For me, an absolute laugh riot from beginning to end. I feel as if I just sat down and attended a masterclass by David Mamet, only for his insight to be imbued through comedy and common sense. Honestly, I think I’ve learned more about the business (or how it used to be; or frankly, how much of it, still should be perhaps) than I did during one entire year of collegiate training for a BFA in Musical Theatre. I found myself repeatedly vindicated regarding many of my opinions of my artistic craft; as if a newly met stranger spoke in a way that made my heart leap as I exclaimed “You too?! I thought I was the ONLY one!”
I was only partly familiar with David Mamet prior to this memoir. I’m now eager to explore more of his perspective on artistry through his various theatrical works and other writings. Raise a glass to the many (many) screenplays that never saw the light of day because some studio executive stumbled into the editing room.
A fascinating read from a dramatist who rightly questions the currently declining state of film, television, and theatrical art…and who also rightly couldn’t care less what anybody else thinks about it.
These are from the horse's mouth, the horse being the last cogent survivor of Old Hollywood. And I alone am escaped to tell thee.
David Mamet
Santa Monica”
This book is fairly embittered and dyspeptic; it is also accurate and rather charming. For me, an absolute laugh riot from beginning to end. I feel as if I just sat down and attended a masterclass by David Mamet, only for his insight to be imbued through comedy and common sense. Honestly, I think I’ve learned more about the business (or how it used to be; or frankly, how much of it, still should be perhaps) than I did during one entire year of collegiate training for a BFA in Musical Theatre. I found myself repeatedly vindicated regarding many of my opinions of my artistic craft; as if a newly met stranger spoke in a way that made my heart leap as I exclaimed “You too?! I thought I was the ONLY one!”
I was only partly familiar with David Mamet prior to this memoir. I’m now eager to explore more of his perspective on artistry through his various theatrical works and other writings. Raise a glass to the many (many) screenplays that never saw the light of day because some studio executive stumbled into the editing room.
A fascinating read from a dramatist who rightly questions the currently declining state of film, television, and theatrical art…and who also rightly couldn’t care less what anybody else thinks about it.
March 31, 2025
I didn't finish the book. Recollections were well written, but for me, they were obscure and did not allow me to feel engaged. This book would be ideal for the die-hard moviephile.
March 1, 2024
Some wild stories and gems of wisdom. I was not disappointed.
March 26, 2024
I am not smart enough to understand this book but I sure liked it.
January 22, 2026
“For the artist, all criticism is devastating, and no praise is sufficient.”
Read
November 25, 2025DNF 1% - writing style. "Woke brigade" in book description on jacket, which I didn't see until after I brought it home from the library.
February 27, 2024
Excellent, intelligent, thought provoking.
January 8, 2024
Entertaining account of Mamet's observations of Hollywood and his distain for producers in particular. Lots of fun anecdotes and worth a read, although I couldn't quite connect with the writing style (unlike his movies!).
December 2, 2023
Everywhere an Oink Oink is David Mamet’s fluffy, word salad appreciation, depreciation, and break down of Hollywood. It’s not for someone who just wants the exciting gossip, it’s for connoisseurs of the craft and if you’re okay with a timeline that is sometimes downright nonexistent as he throws his artistic flair onto the page, you’ll enjoy this! Also: it’s a series of essays, so of course they’re not going to be interconnected with a timeline.
It’s not for me, someone who takes immense joy in straight forward celebrity memoirs and juicy gossip. It’s for a Hollywood buff, people who KNOW the industry, the people involved, and want an account of which from someone deeply engrained in the culture. I understood almost none of it. I don’t watch enough movies, know enough actors, or care enough about his flourishing style of writing to make the extra effort.
Definitely for fans OF David Mamet!
It’s not for me, someone who takes immense joy in straight forward celebrity memoirs and juicy gossip. It’s for a Hollywood buff, people who KNOW the industry, the people involved, and want an account of which from someone deeply engrained in the culture. I understood almost none of it. I don’t watch enough movies, know enough actors, or care enough about his flourishing style of writing to make the extra effort.
Definitely for fans OF David Mamet!
June 22, 2025
Tedious. Truly boring and uninteresting. Fortunately not a long read. It's as if Robin Williams and Dennis Miller got together and co-authored a book. A rambling, almost stream-of-consciousness vomiting of irrelevant, esoteric cultural references and unfunny attempts at humor that make little sense (to me, at least). Also, Mamet seems like a total twat. Again, as with Ezra Klein's Why We Are Polarized, another glimpse into the mind of a lifelong Leftist-Hollywood type, which is to say a psychotic, juvenile, demented creep. Very unpleasant. Do not read this, I assure you there is nothing to gain from it.
January 10, 2024
Eh
I’m wondering if I’m overrating this. Mamet is (or perhaps was) one of the greatest writers alive, crafting incredible plays and films that are up there with the best of them. Am I giving him extra stars simply because of that?
This is less a book and more a ramble. In his later years, Mamet has kind of lost his mind, and his writing here shows a splintered and non-logical thought process. What could have been a great book filled with fun anecdotes is more akin to a collection of random platitude-adjacent statements than a “report of forty years in Hollywood”. Supposedly, Emerson would collect sentences he thought were well-written, then throw the sentences together without necessarily caring how they were related to each other; this book reads like if Mamet did that but didn’t do any vetting of the sentences to begin with.
There’s no overarching story or theme; Mamet’s professional career is mentioned often but without any depth. I got through it, but the last quarter or so was especially a slog; I spent the whole book waiting for a great story, and none ever materialized.
Still, some of it is enjoyable, and though most of the stories are (at best) forgettable, there are a couple of value. Strangely enough, the footnotes are more enjoyable than the book proper; an anecdote about a joke from Joe Mantegna, the only time I laughed out loud, gets inexplicably buried in one of these footnotes. You could probably save yourself time and not miss anything of importance by sticking to the footnotes.
I think this is for diehard Mamet fans only. Anyone interested in anything beyond the scatterbrained mess he’s become will probably find more value elsewhere.
I’m wondering if I’m overrating this. Mamet is (or perhaps was) one of the greatest writers alive, crafting incredible plays and films that are up there with the best of them. Am I giving him extra stars simply because of that?
This is less a book and more a ramble. In his later years, Mamet has kind of lost his mind, and his writing here shows a splintered and non-logical thought process. What could have been a great book filled with fun anecdotes is more akin to a collection of random platitude-adjacent statements than a “report of forty years in Hollywood”. Supposedly, Emerson would collect sentences he thought were well-written, then throw the sentences together without necessarily caring how they were related to each other; this book reads like if Mamet did that but didn’t do any vetting of the sentences to begin with.
There’s no overarching story or theme; Mamet’s professional career is mentioned often but without any depth. I got through it, but the last quarter or so was especially a slog; I spent the whole book waiting for a great story, and none ever materialized.
Still, some of it is enjoyable, and though most of the stories are (at best) forgettable, there are a couple of value. Strangely enough, the footnotes are more enjoyable than the book proper; an anecdote about a joke from Joe Mantegna, the only time I laughed out loud, gets inexplicably buried in one of these footnotes. You could probably save yourself time and not miss anything of importance by sticking to the footnotes.
I think this is for diehard Mamet fans only. Anyone interested in anything beyond the scatterbrained mess he’s become will probably find more value elsewhere.
October 1, 2025
Ugh. How can such a great playwright and director be such a terrible author of his own biography? And why do great authors think they are also great artists? Regardless, the great shame of this book is that there are many truly funny bits interspersed amongst all the stupidity. I particularly enjoyed the line regarding F. Scott Fitzgerald not being fit to puke into the same toilet as Ernest Hemingway, but if that sort of juvenile, potty-mouthed language is not your cup of tea, there really is precious little else on offer here.
Skip this book at re-watch Glengarry Glen Ross or the Spanish Prisoner instead.
Skip this book at re-watch Glengarry Glen Ross or the Spanish Prisoner instead.
March 4, 2024
This book is not coherent in the slightest. I cannot believe that a publisher actually published this book. Perhaps he was coerced into it. Or there were no editors on staff.
October 15, 2023
My thanks to both NetGalley and the publisher Simon & Schuster for an advance copy of this memoir/ history/screed about Hollywood, adventures in the writing trade, and a world that seems to be living an artist behind, something the writer is not happy about.
One of the few art forms that I have never been into is theater be it dramas, comedies, Broadway, off-Broadway experimental, kindergarten. I have read a lot of plays, but have never really had the bug to see them live, though I love music, love movies, and love words. So my familiarity with the works of David Mamet are more from his writing, movies, and television work, rather than his plays. I enjoyed the Untouchables, loved the Spanish Prisoner and House of Games, and still use lines about producers from the underrated film State and Main with a friend all the time. Everywhere an Oink Oink: An Embittered, Dyspeptic, and Accurate Report of Forty Years in Hollywood is a book that is pretty much summed up in the title, at parts a memoir about Mamet's work in LaLa Land, at times a history of Hollywood, a bit of odd culture warrior whingeing and angry letter to the editor of a local newspaper that comes out once a week.
The book begins with a talk about Hollywood and how it started with filmakers fleeing Thomas Edison's lawyers and goons trying to keep control of the new medium of making movies, The west had the weather, and the lack of controls, so filmmakers could be the robber barons they so wanted to be. Mamet describes the levels in Hollywood, Producers with the money schemes and couches, Agents who might do work for the pay. Readers get stories about Mamet, getting a job by pushing a friend to recommend him, and a lot of old stories on Hollywood's forgotten past. Scandals, rip-offs, and faded stars and dreams. These stories are quite interesting and very well written, along with an essay about racism in Hollywood that really makes one wonder what people were thinking. However balancing this out is what can only be called a lot of of Old Man Yells at Cloud, to quote the Simpsons sections, that seem to be injected randomly not to trigger, more to confuse.
A memoir that is about Hollywood and seems like a Nolan film. Not really following a narrative, moving from past to present, to rambling about COVID for a phrase, not a sentence just a phrase, and moving on. The history and tales of stars the Mamet have met are very good, a story about Sean Connery is surprisingly touching, as one wouldn't have expected it from Connery. Discussions about old directors, older actors, some known, some lost in the nitrate of film history, are really good. However the writing, even with all the big words seems choppy. I don't think Shel Silverstein is mentioned in the book without the words my friend before it on every occasion. Weird lines about a constitutionalist appear, with nothing else to explain why. There are some snaps at people who gave him grief and trouble, but others remain nameless. When the book is on, Mamet really is good, the Hollywood history is fascinating, as well as some of the making of his films. But the book really needed an editor, which I am sure Mamet would have threatened, or just a little James Ellroy removing every other word, even though the book is kind of slim. I am omitting the cartoons and odd Granddad jokes too, as I only remembered they were they when I saw the cover, as they don't add anything to the story, and further the idea of yelling at clouds plot line.
Recommended for fans of Mamet and Hollywood history, with the proviso this isn't his best work, nor a real memoir as I don't remember much about his stage work coming up, except in a discussion about the great Ricky Jay. Some essays were quite good, some were quite something, but while I was sometimes confused, I was never bored.
One of the few art forms that I have never been into is theater be it dramas, comedies, Broadway, off-Broadway experimental, kindergarten. I have read a lot of plays, but have never really had the bug to see them live, though I love music, love movies, and love words. So my familiarity with the works of David Mamet are more from his writing, movies, and television work, rather than his plays. I enjoyed the Untouchables, loved the Spanish Prisoner and House of Games, and still use lines about producers from the underrated film State and Main with a friend all the time. Everywhere an Oink Oink: An Embittered, Dyspeptic, and Accurate Report of Forty Years in Hollywood is a book that is pretty much summed up in the title, at parts a memoir about Mamet's work in LaLa Land, at times a history of Hollywood, a bit of odd culture warrior whingeing and angry letter to the editor of a local newspaper that comes out once a week.
The book begins with a talk about Hollywood and how it started with filmakers fleeing Thomas Edison's lawyers and goons trying to keep control of the new medium of making movies, The west had the weather, and the lack of controls, so filmmakers could be the robber barons they so wanted to be. Mamet describes the levels in Hollywood, Producers with the money schemes and couches, Agents who might do work for the pay. Readers get stories about Mamet, getting a job by pushing a friend to recommend him, and a lot of old stories on Hollywood's forgotten past. Scandals, rip-offs, and faded stars and dreams. These stories are quite interesting and very well written, along with an essay about racism in Hollywood that really makes one wonder what people were thinking. However balancing this out is what can only be called a lot of of Old Man Yells at Cloud, to quote the Simpsons sections, that seem to be injected randomly not to trigger, more to confuse.
A memoir that is about Hollywood and seems like a Nolan film. Not really following a narrative, moving from past to present, to rambling about COVID for a phrase, not a sentence just a phrase, and moving on. The history and tales of stars the Mamet have met are very good, a story about Sean Connery is surprisingly touching, as one wouldn't have expected it from Connery. Discussions about old directors, older actors, some known, some lost in the nitrate of film history, are really good. However the writing, even with all the big words seems choppy. I don't think Shel Silverstein is mentioned in the book without the words my friend before it on every occasion. Weird lines about a constitutionalist appear, with nothing else to explain why. There are some snaps at people who gave him grief and trouble, but others remain nameless. When the book is on, Mamet really is good, the Hollywood history is fascinating, as well as some of the making of his films. But the book really needed an editor, which I am sure Mamet would have threatened, or just a little James Ellroy removing every other word, even though the book is kind of slim. I am omitting the cartoons and odd Granddad jokes too, as I only remembered they were they when I saw the cover, as they don't add anything to the story, and further the idea of yelling at clouds plot line.
Recommended for fans of Mamet and Hollywood history, with the proviso this isn't his best work, nor a real memoir as I don't remember much about his stage work coming up, except in a discussion about the great Ricky Jay. Some essays were quite good, some were quite something, but while I was sometimes confused, I was never bored.
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