In terms of plot and character development, I believe this may be the best of Patrick Dennis's books. Set in the early 1960s, It tells the story of a mercurial, always-broke, brilliant film director named Leander Starr (modeled, perhaps, on Orson Welles?) who is trying to make a movie in Mexico. At least a couple of ex-wives are on hand to alternately assist and assail him in this task, as are a wealthy gauche American widow and a shady Mexican producer. Patrick Dennis narrates and appears as the other major character, who is supposed to help Starr write the screenplay of this epic.
The plot is pretty terrific and the writing is very witty, very funny, very arch. The characters are over-the-top but in general feel plausible. Dennis (the writer) feels a kind of affection for Starr despite his "sacred monster" persona, and this gives the book a warmth that sometimes for me feels absent from other Dennis books like Auntie Mame.
I guess there are elements of camp here too, but not so much as in some of the other Dennis books. There is an embarrassingly stereotyped (a la Edward Everett Horton) gay valet named Alistair St. Regis, which drags things down a bit.
But the reason I ended up giving this 3 stars instead of 4 or 5 is that, coming back to just a few years ago, I found it impossible to get past its casual racism/elitism. Dennis nails all of the WASPy snobs as we expect him to, but he's even harder on the clueless middle-class New Jersey accountant Irving Guber (whose speech pattern is pretty relentlessly ridiculed for no good reason). Worst is the treatment of the Mexican characters, who are all depicted as awful people: grasping, greedy, uneducated, coarse; subjects of derision, without mitigation. 60 years ago this probably escaped people's notice, which is sad; today, it almost renders the book unreadable (which is also sad).