Just in time for Christmas, when you need a gift for that weird old uncle who is upset that everyone gets a trophy in youth soccer, comes a new book.
鈥淓verywhere an Oink Oink: An Embittered, Dyspeptic and Accurate Report of Forty Years in Hollywood鈥� is a collection of observations, stories and aphorisms about Hollywood from one of America's foremost writers and, these days, provocateurs. It is virtually unreadable.
This is a book that resembles the idled rantings from a feverish, unsolicited email stuck in your spam folder. There are weird capitalizations, uneasy conclusions and the rat-a-tat of non-sequiturs all held together by bad faith. It's illustrated by Mamet's own cartoons, which echo a middle schooler's sense of humor and maturity.
He clearly hates film producers 鈥� 鈥淰illage Idiots鈥� is the nicest of adjectives 鈥� but he hates PC culture more. He lambasts "Diversity Porn," arguing that the logical extension of color-conscious casting is an Asian woman playing Harry Truman. He thinks modern culture has made frightened sheeps of men.
鈥淭oday in Los Angeles the teenage girls walk about virtually naked, and the males, rather than getting a pass for ogling the good clean fun, are terrified of even inadvertent gawking.鈥� He won a Pulitzer Prize once. Now he's basically endorsing wet T-shirt contests.
Throughout is the stringent waft of misogyny. In one cartoon, Mamet asks 鈥淲ho was the most fetching female in film history鈥� over a drawing of Lassie. He includes jokes like this: 鈥淎nn-Margret is the only girl in Hollywood who still has her hyphen.鈥� Again, this is a man who name-checks Herodotus and Kipling.
In one section, he tries to belittle entire topics of critical thought like a proto-incel. 鈥淚nequity, Gender Politics, Feminism, and like doctrines are like modern art: a first glance is sufficient. There鈥檚 no information to be gained from an in-depth study."
Mamet is the acclaimed author of theater classics such as 鈥淕lengarry Glen Ross,鈥� 鈥淎merican Buffalo鈥� and 鈥淩ace,鈥� all works struggling to find relevance in the modern age. His Hollywood input includes scripts for 鈥淭he Untouchables,鈥� 鈥淗eist,鈥� 鈥淲ag the Dog鈥� and 鈥淭he Edge,鈥� glorious all.
Sections in the book unusually begin with a tart statement, like 鈥淭rivia is gossip without malice鈥� or 鈥淧eople flourish in hierarchy,鈥� and then meander to some backstage trivia about Hollywood鈥檚 Golden Age before ending with something outrageous and unconnected, often with Nazis. Hitler appears on Page 8 and never really leaves.
To be fair, there are intriguing parts, like when he discusses the nuts and bolts of screenwriting: "The dialogue is of as little concern to a skilled screenwriter as the paint is to the mechanic.鈥� And run-ins with Billy Wilder, Don Ameche, Sue Mengers and Bob Evans are fun.
But 鈥淓verywhere an Oink Oink鈥� is a vanity project: He loves re-settling scores, boasts about being fired from jobs or thrown out of places 鈥� he got tossed from a Williams Sonoma for going in the wrong door and, when confronted, replied 鈥淚t's alright, I'm an Illegal Immigrant.鈥�
At one point, Mamet's editor is compelled to dismiss in a footnote one of the writer's so-called facts: 鈥淎 complete fabrication.鈥� But the wrong thing remains there. All over, Mamet repeats himself, another gripe for a book that feels unedited. One may loath his individual conclusions, but to get them twice makes the author even smaller, petty and unhinged.
鈥淓ither they or I are marching to the beat of a Different Drummer. In which event either one or many of us must be out of step,鈥� he writes.
Yes, indeed.
___
AP book reviews:
Mark Kennedy, The Associated Press
