(This review is for the 2024 printing with the red and black cover. I am not familiar with other editions, and some of my complaints may have been exclusive to this edition.)
I am a tremendous fan of William Castle. I count him among the greatest showmen of all time, with an uncanny ability to entertain audiences, untapped wells of imagination, and a refined taste. That sounds like a surprising description for a director of exploitation films, but Castle’s work fills me with a certain giddy delight that is lacking in modern films; oh, to have lived in the era of the gimmick!
Familiar with the man’s work, I scooped this book to become more familiar with the man himself: Where did his ideas come from? How did he collaborate with others? How did he react to criticism, failure, and frustration? I was pleased to find all that and more in this autobiography, in addition to lively accounts of the process behind his theatrics and intriguing glimpses into the psychology of a Master of Horror like Castle. As other reviewers have stated, this is an unapologetic memoir—it’s not about making him look better or worse than he really was. Castle systematically recites events and his reactions to them; conversationally, with enough sensation and hyperbole added to make it fun. It’s like hanging out with the most interesting person at a dinner party—in showbusiness, Castle has done it all and met everyone, and he gleefully delivers the gossip.
In this book are some unfortunate artifacts of a time when minorities and women were talked about and treated with less regard. One particular chapter describing Castle’s work on Orson Welles’s “The Woman from Shanghai” made me very uncomfortable. Would Castle have told it the same way today? Probably not, or it would have been smoothed by an editor. As a fan, I like to think the best, but who can say? These moments are fleeting, thankfully.
Speaking of editing, that’s my major complaint with this book. The editing is DREADFUL and it makes Castle seem like an incompetent writer. Missing or incorrect punctuation. Inconsistent formatting. A failure to properly establish setting (in time and geography) or even who is speaking at any given moment. Conversations sometimes require multiple rereads to understand. All of this would be easily remedied by an editor, so why wasn’t it done? It’s the editor’s job to make the author look brilliant. Castle comes off as confused, distracted, and manic.
The editing is so bad, in fact, that I could not recommend this book to anyone who isn’t a Castle fan already. In this memoir, there are a ton of entertaining anecdotes and charming humor. It’s a fascinating study of a man who often goes unappreciated. It’s a quick read (I found myself clearing 30-40 pages at a time in 20-minute sittings) and VERY entertaining. But be prepared: Your reading comprehension skills are in for a workout.