My rating: 3 of 5 stars
At seventy something, can't nobody tell him nothin'. Hoorah! Clever, clever Frank Langella decided to not write an autobiography but instead just skip to the rich, the famous, the cool and the crumby. Bliss. Mr. Langella, not always nice himself, thank God, has a specially fine eye for the thorough shits that have crossed his path; Anthony Quinn, Bette Davis, David Begelman, etc. More importantly though, he has a fine appreciate memory for every kindness -- even the ones he admittedly did not deserve -- and for the funny line, the better friend and the rare occasion. Unbelievably,for instance, his vignette of a summer afternoon in a Kennedy Camelot, the charm of which having always escaped me before, nearly made me cry. His sketches of real friends, like Raul Julia, and Anne Bancroft, are unsparing and yet deeply moving. Remarkable and very funny -- if still slightly scary -- man. A delight.
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