(I’ve been off recharging my batteries for a few days, so I thought today and tomorrow would be a good time to re-explore two oldies but goodies that ran in this space before my blog expanded to four newspapers. I’ll be back Monday with reports on a terrific debut thriller by Steven Gore and a couple of new plays that are just about to open in Manhattan.)
You never know what you’re getting into when you pick up a show business memoir.
Some are unreadable.
Some are so egotistical and/or vitriolic that you end up hating the author (and yourself for wasting so much time).
Every once in a while, however, a superior example of the genre comes along — the Lauren Bacall and Mia Farrow books come quickly to mind.
But, Oscar nominee Christopher Plummer’s book, “In Spite of Myself” (Knopf) is in a class by itself.
Unlike some premature memoirists — who put out their first “book” in their 30s or 40s — Plummer has lived a full life and career worth writing about. A stage and screen star for more than a half-century, Plummer has earned the right to tell his story because he has triumphed in classic stage roles in New York, London and his native Canada and has proven himself to be an extraordinarily durable and powerful film actor.
The star has worked both sides of the show business fence — the high art of Shakespeare and the other great stage writers and the slightly lower art involved in being a jobbing film and TV actor.
Many actors tend to get a bit soft and sentimental as they age, but Plummer has stayed as sharp as a tack into his 70s, giving spectacular late-life performances such as his Mike Wallace in the Michael Mann film “The Insider” (1999) and a towering Lear at Lincoln Center four years ago.
I’ve had the pleasure of talking with Plummer a few times over the years and know him to be a wonderful story teller.
“In Spite of Myself” reveals Plummer to be a terrific writer who takes us through the highs and lows of his career with an unflagging sense of humor and a down-to-earth style that draws the reader right in (the 648 pages race by).
Of course, there are full acounts of such famous Plummer projects as “The Sound of Music” (1965) — which he has come to admire after dissing it in the years right after its huge success — and his key stage triumphs in the Archibald MacLeish-Elia Kazan collaboration “J.B.” and “Barrymore.”
But what I really love about the book is the way that Plummer tips his hat to the other actors who have played important roles in his life and career. Jason Robards and Julie Harris are just two of the legendary performers who are featured prominently and Plummer also took the time and space to remind us of such lesser known (and long gone) stage greats as Edward Everett Horton and Kate Reid.
“In Spite of Myself” takes us back to a halcyon era on Broadway in the 1950s when plays were as important as musicals and Plummer spent countless nights carousing in theater district bars with scintillating folks like Elaine Stritch, Jack Warden and Ben Gazzara.
There are several chapters that Plummer could have expanded into small books, especially his funny and scary account of the chaotic Russian production of “Waterloo” which he worked on with Rod Steiger in the late 1960s.
Another memorable chapter is devoted to Plummer’s experiences starring in one of the biggest and most expensive epics in movie history — “The Fall of the Roman Empire” (1964) which failed at the box-office in spite of awesome sets and costumes and a cast that included Sophia Loren, Alec Guinness, James Mason and Omar Sharif.
“In Spite of Myself” is a very big book, but I was still sorry to reach the last page.
