This book is… OK. It’s got some interesting characters – the more interestingly drawn, have little to do with the plot – and a bit of what feels like authentic Hollywood-insider atmosphere, where it’s just another workplace and not an aspirational dreamworld seen from the outside.
But quite honestly, it’s a clear case of genre fraud. The cartoony cover and the punny title lead you to expect a light dose of chicklit. It quickly turns out instead to be that unedifying thing, a not-very-thrilling thriller, involving bankruptcy, a conman, Russian gangsters, large scale property fraud, kidnappings, murder and amateur sleuthing – except it’s all a lot less exciting than that makes it sound. Just because your protagonist is female and a Hollywood film star doesn’t entitle you to put a pair of upside-down kicking legs on your cover, if you’re going to write about the Russian mafia and international property fraud.
That aside, the heroine is Meg Barnes, and she’s not badly-drawn. I liked that she isn’t a young hot-shot glamour girl but a middle-aged, still glamorous actress who is well remembered for an iconic role in a twenty-year-old TV show, and has worked steadily in a series of guest star roles since. That seemed realistic and relatable to me. In the opening chapter, we’re plunged into high drama with the kidnapping and disappearance of her husband – an immediate indication that this is not going to be the light romp through Hollywood mores that I was hoping for.
The story cuts to a year later, and Meg is destitute and living in her car, though managing to conceal this from most of her friends. It turns out her husband staged his disappearance because he was about to be busted for property fraud, and he somehow managed to fleece Meg of all her money and possessions too. Despite her precarious living conditions, she is attempting a career comeback, and I would have been much more interested in following that as a story. Instead, we are obliged to go along with Meg as she investigates her husband’s disappearance in a fumbling, non-urgent, meandering way, tripping over clues and getting jumped by seemingly-random mysterious antagonists. I have to confess, by the time the plot reached its predictable climax, I was pretty confused and not at all sure who was who and who was supposed to have done what to whom.
A lot of time is spent on scenes that contribute nothing, except perhaps a bit of general atmosphere, and there are really too many peripheral characters that don’t feed into the thriller plot. What was all that about the ex-star bag lady and her down-and-out admirer, for instance? Is she supposed to be a glimpse into the future for Meg if she doesn’t get her act together? Fair enough, except that Meg’s personal story isn’t central enough for this to matter.
Confused is what this book made me feel in the end. I had to keep putting it down and coming back to it, doggedly trying to get through it. As an aside, I started to read Sophie Kinsella’s Shopaholic to the Stars at around the same time, which is set in exactly the same time and place. Now I thought that Down and Out in Beverly Heels was a much better, more interesting portrayal of Hollywood as a place, and certainly felt more realistic, and I thought that the latest Shopaholic book was a very disappointing addition to that series – but still, I finished Shopaholic to the Stars in a flash and weeks ago, whereas I’ve only just dragged myself to the end of this book. That says something about the storytelling, I’m afraid – for me, at least.