Chosen as holiday reading, this book proved to be lightweight enough, but considerably more sycophantic than expected. Even if it was obvious that Brando, Hopper, Beatty and Nicholson were selected by the author because he liked them, I was not prepared for such a level of deferential unctuousness.
I was never a fan of any of those bad boys and I just wanted to read some entertaining stories about the golden age of cinema. Unfortunately, my low expectations were met by a collection of facts retrievable with a simple online search, glued together by minimal gossip, conjectures and tons of praise.
The red line linking the biographies is that the four of them met at some stage and occasionally worked together, sometimes in obscure or forgotten movies. We further discover that being rich and famous helps picking up women and that the profession of acting seems particularly conducive to addictions (to drugs, booze, sex… whatever). Not the revelations of the century.
As far as each actor is concerned: in my opinion Brando was way overrated and I always found his mumbling unbearable. After starting a stellar movie career with iconic roles, he collected a series of flops, all conveniently ignored by the author. His contempt for his profession was one of his most irritating features. Although I agree that actors are much too venerated, Brando cashed on his reputation and enjoyed all that money can buy, while professing to be "ashamed" to earn his life that way. Perhaps he should have been informed that working in a mine is way more inconvenient and a lot less well paid.
Besides, he had an unpleasant, twisted personality. He was grossly disrespectful towards co-worker, even if according to the author some of his outrageous jokes were just harmless pranks. Finally, he was enormously arrogant and vain. He was given the part of Kurtz in Apocalypse Now because Coppola was expecting a lean, mean actor playing the crazy guy in jungle. Consequently, Brando's scenes where tailored around him and shot mostly in semi darkness to hide his obese body.
Hopper was convinced to be the best actor in the world, even if he made only three decent movies in his whole life. After the unexpected success of "Easy Rider" – which also launched Nicholson's career, Hopper went megalomaniac wild, wasted ten years in foolish projects and abusing all sorts of illegal substances. After repeated spells in rehab, he managed to go back in the game and amass a huge fortune. Of course it is very convenient to play the rebel within the establishment, thus risking nothing. The good thing about making it in Hollywood is that you just need a single hit and you can go on living on your legend for the rest of your life, while billions of suckers will think you are a genius and adore you forever.
Beatty is described as a sex-addicted, obsessive-compulsive womanizer and the "shallowest man in Hollywood" – no small achievement. His greatest contribution to the history of movies lies thirty years in the past, and yet he too is considered a Hollywood legend.
Nicholson was perhaps the best actor of the bunch. Unfortunately, with the passing of time he turned into a parody of himself. His face paralyzed in an eternal, demented grin, with eyebrows unnaturally arched (thanks to Botox) and scary white gnashers (thanks to his dentist). Apparently, despite being ugly and unattractive, he was also a womanizer and the owner of the house where Polanski had his unfortunate sexual encounter with a pubescent girl. Nicholson was not there at the time, but the author kindly informs us that he was often in some sexual mess of his own. Given the fact that Nicholson had a decent career, he gets the most sycophantic tribute. He gets so much praise; one would think he found a cure for cancer.
Conclusion: if love movie stars and rehashed, watered down gossip, this is the book for you.