If Chins Could Kill: Confessions of a B Movie Actor
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
Okay, so at least you're interested enough to pick up this book and look inside. I think you and I are going to get along just fine.
Life is full of choices. Right now, yours is whether or not to buy the autobiography of a mid-grade, kind of hammy actor.
Am I supposed to know this guy? you think to yourself.
No, and that's exactly the point. Bookstores are chock full of household name actors and their high stakes shenanigans. I don't want to be a spoilsport, but we've all been down that road before.
Case in point: look to your left - see that Judy Garland book? You don't need that, you know plenty about her already - great voice, crappy life. Now look to your right at the Charlton Heston book. You don't need to cough up hard-earned dough for that either. You know his story too - great voice, crappy toupee.
The truth is that though you might not have a clue who I am, there are countless working stiffs like me out there, grinding away every day at the wheel of fortune.
If Chins Could Kill: Confessions of a B Movie Actor is my first book, and I invite you to ride with me through the choppy waters of blue collar Hollywood.
Okay, so buy the damned book already and read like the wind!
P.S. If the book sucks, at least there are gobs of pictures, and they're not crammed in the middle like all those other actor books.
"gofer" (go-fer this Verne, go-fer that) for Hollywood director, George Stevens -- fortunately for me, he was eager to take a young filmmaker under his wing. Thus began the real-world tutelage that I craved, so Friday afternoons, I'd head home from Kalamazoo via Greyhound bus. Our driver, Roy, nicknamed "Mr. Excitement," was famous for his interminable monologues over the loudspeaker -- he loved to rattle off the list of stops and reprimand dope smokers in the back of the bus, but his shining
Our first official reprieve was Thanksgiving, and we celebrated Southern style. I have never had a meal like it before or since. A small army of women, all related somehow to Gary Holt, took three days to prepare the fixings. In case you're skimming, that was three days. The food was laid out on card tables, buffet style, and ringed two large rooms. I tried to taste a little of everything, but this was physically impossible -- the sweet potato dishes alone came in five varieties. Events like
apple box. When not gulping cups of Gatorade, an oxygen mask was clamped over his face until the next setup. "It was worth it," Ted explained later. "It got me into the Screen Actors Guild." Evil Dead II required my character, Ash, to grow from "cowardly wimp" to "leader of men." This was the first time I ever had to do any kind of long-term weight training. Bulk wasn't so much the issue -- it was more about creating a sturdy physique that would work in harmony with the hero-in-a-torn-shirt
would be defeated and I'd be off to the next fight. Notes from a director for scenes like this take on a bizarre twist. Sam: Bruce, thirty-eight wasn't right. It was late. Bruce: I know, I was still thinking about thirty-six. But, I think I nailed forty. Sam: Yeah, that was better -- and you've got more time before forty-two... maybe a second. Bruce: Okay... no sweat. SLICE AND DICE Shooting came to a halt in the fall of 1991 and the process of editing several hundred thousand feet of film
that leaves you with $46,875 a year. You, too, can become a rich movie star. 37 LONG LIVE THE "HUD" Near the end of Army, I announced to Sam Raimi, "I hope that's all you have to shoot, pal, because I'm off to work on a real film!" Of course, Sam knew what I was talking about -- he had cowritten the Coen Brothers' industrial fantasy, The Hudsucker Proxy. In theory, the film wasn't all that different than our dud Crimewave, except for the fact that the Coen Brothers had ten times the money