26 Jun Book Review of Everywhere an Oink Oink: An Embittered, Dyspeptic, and …
Review of Everywhere an Oink Oink: An Embittered, Dyspeptic, and Accurate Report of Forty Years in Hollywood by David Mamet
As someone who has dabbled in nearly every art form except theater, I was drawn to Everywhere an Oink Oink not for its theatrical connections but for David Mamet’s razor-sharp reputation as a storyteller. His works in film, most notably The Untouchables and House of Games, have always resonated with me, so I was eager to dive into this memoir/history that promised to unpack the tangled web of Hollywood and Mamet’s own adventures within it.
Mamet’s book opens with a fascinating backdrop of Hollywood’s origins, detailing filmmakers fleeing the iron grip of Thomas Edison and his legal henchmen. This narrative sets the tone for what becomes a whirlwind tour through Hollywood’s labyrinthine structures of power, from shifty producers to opportunistic agents. Throughout this memoir, Mamet shares vignettes that are alternately nostalgic and embittered, painting a picture of a golden age that’s been overshadowed by the industry’s decline. I found myself particularly captivated by his stories of yesteryear—scandals, forgotten stars, and even a surprisingly tender recollection of Sean Connery.
Yet in between these engaging anecdotes, the book also takes jarring detours. At times, it feels like Mamet straddles two worlds: one where storytelling takes precedence, and the other where he indulges in what could be described as “Old Man Yells at Cloud” moments. These rants often left me scratching my head, particularly when their relevance felt tenuous, making the narrative a bit choppy at points. I found myself yearning for more cohesion; the absence of a clear thread left me disoriented, much like a Nolan film that’s expertly crafted yet somewhat elusive.
The writing itself is rich and laden with big words, but the pacing can be erratic—just as I was fully engaged in one story, we’d hop into an entirely different topic without much warning. That unpredictability has its allure, yet it can also frustrate. Noteworthy essays, such as Mamet’s reflections on racism in Hollywood, shine brightly amidst some of the more perplexing asides, reminding us of the serious undertones under the glitz and glam of Tinseltown.
For seasoned fans of Mamet and history buffs alike, this memoir is an intriguing mix of admiration and critique. It may not be his best work, nor does it dig much into his stage career, but it offers fascinating insights into an era that shapes our cultural landscape today. As I flipped through its pages, I found myself engaged, even when confused, by Mamet’s eclectic musings.
In the end, Everywhere an Oink Oink serves as a loving yet critical lens on Hollywood—a must-read for anyone interested in its evolution or in Mamet’s work, even if you’re left pondering the book’s purpose. While it didn’t entirely fulfill my expectations of a straightforward memoir, it successfully kindled my appreciation for the shadows lurking behind the Hollywood lights. If you’re ready to share in Mamet’s tour of his Hollywood journey, prepare for a read that’s both illuminating and occasionally bewildering!
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