*Audiobook, read by the author*
Maybe 2 stars is an unfair rating. There was nothing wrong with this memoir. It was perfectly coherent, covered all the turning points in Van Dyke’s life and career. But it revealed an unpalatable side to his personality, and I don’t do well separating a celebrity’s personality from his body of work.
At the outset of the book, Van Dyke assures us, in that familiarly genial voice, that there is nothing salacious to be found in his memoir. Yet, a fair amount of what he has to say is somewhat risqué (not at length nor explicit). Maybe it wasn't exactly salacious, but much of it eyebrow-raising stuff, even if Van Dyke is apt to laugh it off.
There were other revelations concerning his own childhood (such as aspects of his upbringing and his parents' conduct). These were somewhat startling to me, but Van Dyke seems to view it all through rose-colored glasses. Like, if he doesn’t see it as alarming, neither should we.
He was open enough about his own skeletons. His drinking problem. His extra-marital affair. How he finally separated from his wife. But those same rose-colored glasses helped him gloss right over it with his unflappable charm, telegraphing to us that it’s no reason to get upset.
The book isn't ALL bad. If you were ever a fan of his movies or TV, there’s plenty of behind-the-scenes to interest even the casual fan. In fact, I enjoyed some of the chapters about how The Dick Van Dyke Show came together, and some of the movie stories. But in the last third or so, Van Dyke’s decisions and opinions began to chafe. If I’m being honest, it’s the point where he admits (in his good-natured, golly-gee delivery) to having a mid-life crisis, and proceeds to defend his actions over and over. The longer I listened, the more he sounded cheerfully defensive, and falsely humble.
One example sticks out:
On the set of Dick Tracy (in the late 80s?), he was required to do a stunt of sorts, where he falls between an iron cot and a dresser. First, he inserts that those on the set where “impressed,” given his age at the time. Then he tells us that on the fourth take, he hit his shoulder on the cot, dislocating a bone. He says, “I could have complained about the lack of a stunt coordinator, but I chose not to.”
Maybe I’m not articulating all of this very well, but that example seems to sum up most of what didn’t sit right with me about this book in the end. Something forced, and something false.
Throughout the book, he heaps praises on fellow actors and directors, but in the next paragraph he'll be naming names, describing someone's lewd conduct or drug/alcohol use. He says more than once that when it comes to fooling around with co-stars, though other people in show business did it, he didn't do that. Yet, he gleefully reminds us how often people mistook him and Mary Tyler Moore for a married couple, and - almost in so many words - that he had a crush on her. He keeps making sure we know he comes by his nice-guy reputation honestly. Yet he breezes over the break-up of his marriage and his growing relationship with the other woman, whom he would spend the rest of his life with but never marry.
And though he never spells it out, it's clear that he resented his wife's enduring dislike for the glitz and glamour of Hollywood. The other woman, - he repeats again and again - was the opposite: outgoing, knowing everyone in the biz, understanding his job, listening to him talk about it. It was just a little sickening.
Dick Van Dyke repeatedly reminds us that he’s always tried to do what’s right. That his mother told him he was a good boy, and he believes he still is that good boy from small-town middle America. And golly gee he's had one lucky life. Okay, Dick. You got your point across. But this listener found it had a hollow ring to it.