Larry McMurtry was many things. Novelist, essayist, critic, cultural observer, bookseller, avid reader, professor, and a screenwriter. And its his experiences as both a screenwriter and an avid moviegoer that color these short essays on Hollywood, cinema as storytelling, and his own adventures in working in movies.
Being an outsider in both circumstances and personality to Tinseltown’s narcissistic, fast-paced self-aggrandizement, he offers some witty and astute observations on the state of movies, directors, actors, audiences, and the relationship between film and the novel, as well as some well thought-out observations on the type of roles various actors or movies have taken on in culture.
These essays were written as columns for American Film in the 70s, so they are dated in some ways, but relevant still in others. I was especially interested in his takes not only on popular and forgotten movies from that era (anyone remember movies like Latitude Zero?) but on his notes on the fading of moviehouses across more rural areas across the U.S. and the waning days of little cinemas and the drive-in, once cultural staples in the time when going to the movies was a treat everyone got to do even in tiny little towns in rural Nebraska, Texas, Iowa, and Kansas, before theaters made their way into the multiplexes in urban areas they are now. Spooky how his own novel The Last Picture Show—itself turned into a movie—seemed prophetic.
Overall, I really enjoyed this one. Much as I love McMurtry’s fiction, it’s his nonfiction that I’ve read most of and which lingers most in my mind long after I finish reading.