A little too much "Chapter one: I am born" for me. Frank Langella bypasses all of that by writing an episodic memoir composed solely of his interactions with the famous some of whom he met fleetingly and a few not at all. As the subtitle says and as Langella has pointed out in interviews, these are famous people as he experienced them, not necessarily as they actually were. He elected to only feature the deceased and dedicates a chapter to I generally am not much of a fan of celebrity memoirs.
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By Ada Calhoun April 20, Judging by this satisfyingly scandalous new memoir, Frank Langella has slept with, been propositioned by, or at least swapped dirty jokes with a breathtaking swath of stars over his illustrious half-century career.
The collection paints Hollywood and Broadway as teeming with vulgar, neurotic and irresistible company, and Langella as relentlessly affable in the face of nonstop groping by famous people in far-flung locations.
He ambles into history and falls into notable beds like some kind of sexy Forrest Gump or beefcake Zelig. Aside from a little coyness about his intimate relationship with Jackie Onassis, Langella pulls very few punches. Luckily for others, Langella is as enthusiastic as he is vicious. Langella saves his highest praise for women of a certain age — that age entitling one to a discount at the movies.
He waxes philosophical about his on-set affair with Rita Hayworth when he was It was her last film. He does make her chase him first. By his cheerful debauchery, Langella reveals something certain commentators have obscured: sluts are the best — hungry for experience and generous with themselves in its pursuit. There is so much happy sexuality in this book that reading it is like being flirted with for a whole party by the hottest person in the room.
Frank Langella's 'Dropped Names' is a juicy memoir