I don't watch a lot of movies these days, but when I do, it's probably a bad movie. I love bad movies, and Roar was DEFINITELY a bad movie. An anxiety-fueled 90 minutes of pure insanity and chaos. It's easy to get caught up in how terrible a movie is, and laugh at its failings, but this book reminds me how much is often hiding on the other side. Not just the incidents that made this "the most dangerous movie ever made," but also all the pain and heartbreak that these people went through (99% their own doing, to be sure). While I found myself scoffing out loud at all the idiocy, hypocrisy, and single-minded obsession of Tippi and Noel (to be fair, Tippi is thankfully at least a little self aware), I also found myself so, so heartbroken in the later parts of this book. Again, 99% their own doing, but tragic nonetheless. Even if a by-product of this truly terrible idea, I'm glad Tippi found her life's purpose, and I feel no doubt that she truly loved these animals. I'm also glad that times change, and so much that angers me about this book is no longer occurring 40 years later. I can breathe a little easier knowing they don't breed their cats anymore, and they actually rescue them instead of just hoarding them. I will be giving a 5-minute PowerPoint presentation on Roar to a group of friends, and thanks to this book, I actually have a lot of sympathy now instead of just jokes (but yes, lots of jokes too).