I recently read the fabulous Mark Harris book about Mike Nichols and that may have sullied my opinion of this book. While this is an authentic story about Bob Evans straight from the screamingly successful/often unlucky producer's mouth, I found the Jimmy Cagney voice and the I-dig-chicks-and-they-dig-me narrative tiresome. At the same time, it's a great down-and-dirty, inside look at Hollywood and the making and near-undoing of some incredible movies.

robert evans is a great storyteller in the audiobook version. great companion book with biskins "easy riders, raging bulls".

Very little of this is probably true, but it sure is a ripping yarn.
funny informative lighthearted reflective medium-paced

Truly deranged. Like William Friedkin's The Friedkin Connection, this is a ton of fun, and I barely believe any of it. Except with Friedkin, I believe maybe 80% of what he writes. With Evan, it's closer to 60%. Braggadocious, sexist, faux humble -- this is a guy with a big ego and no self-awareness just rambling about how great he was.

Nearly every page you'll see him posing a rhetorical question and answering immediately. Like:
"Was I scared?
*chuckles*
You bet your ass I wasn't."

So many ridiculous moments, including Evans saying that the reason mob movies pre-Godfather were bad was because they were directed by Jews. There's an extended poem about an unnamed seductress with lines like "she spreads her legs wide to complete the feat." He randomly brings up Sharon Stone, who seems to have accused him of murder and kidnapping of three people? I kept texting my friend (who finished this before me) for validation that what we were reading was real. "omg did you get to that bogus Henry Kissinger story??"

I could've probably read another few hundred pages of this nonsense. Very enjoyable trash!

Am I original by starting this with a question? Heck no. But I think I’m funny anyways. I listened to the audio book because so many comedy writers have adapted his tone and style into routines. It’s not really like that but it’s close enough.
informative reflective medium-paced

Fun read of older Hollywood if you can ignore the misogyny of the times reflected here.

I've marked this as unfinished because I lost my copy. If you know what a tome this is, you'll be surprised. It's in my house somewhere but who the fuck knows where. If I ever find it, I'll finish it.

Robert Evans had sex a lot. Like, a lot a lot. He was handsome, intelligent and suave when those things were right, which I suppose is always. He was kind of a shit though. His attitudes towards women are primitive. I certainly wouldn't have married him, and he fooled four women into doing it.

Still, he can write the heck out of an anecdote. This book gives the impression that it would have been a really good time, sitting next to him at a party.

Pretty bland, as far as Hollywood memoirs go. There are infinitely better books about Chinatown, and most of the other key players & films in here. They don’t all have a really long rhyming poem in them, though.