5 of 5 people found the following review helpful:
2.0 out of 5 stars
Desperately seeking an editor, May 5, 1999
By A Customer
It takes a truly ungifted writer/editor to transform such a sordid topic into such a boring read.
With little original research of any value at his disposal, Fleming leans heavily on other books and magazine articles. The book's most annoying feature is its mindless repetition. Quotes and anecdotes that appear in one chapter are re-introduced in another chapter (see Simpson's public humiliation of Craig Baumgarten in an 1985 Esquire article) or, worse, in the same chapter (see Fleming's "where are they now" summary of Bonnie Bradigan).
What's worse than Fleming's shoddy writing (pick a tense, Mr. Fleming, any tense) is his utter lack of insight into Simpson's admittedly repellant character. The author is content to spread unsubstantiated rumors and dwell on the most minute detail of Simpson's bizarre sex life without even once delving into the psychological reasons/motivations for such repulsive behavior.
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4 of 4 people found the following review helpful:
3.0 out of 5 stars
Some Insight Found if you Dig, June 30, 2005
Why is it that the movie FLASHDANCE has been central to the last 4 industry books I have read? It provides a great RASHOMON-style perspective on the industry: Get producer Don Simpson's take in High Concept, producer Lynda Obst's take in Hello He Lied, producers Peter Guber and Jon Peters in Hit and Run, and finally, writer Joe Esterhaz's take in Hollywood Animal.
Anyway, on to High Concept: I felt the book was poorly written and too often shot for the tabloid instead of the insight. I was more interested in his role in the industry and his exploits with Bruckheimer but this was overshadowed by chapters on his drug use and penchant for hookers.
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6 of 7 people found the following review helpful:
5.0 out of 5 stars
The Secrets of My Excess, January 7, 2004
Learn how to become a movie mogul, get laid every hour, do cocaine by the second and eventually die on the toilet just like the "King" himself. Truth be told it is a terrible thought that this best-selling Hollywood expose book is based on a dead man written shortly after his death. It's a fair topic - a tab bit tasteless - but fair, because when you are a multi-million dollar figure in Hollywood who has spent money and time on the latest fashion, fast cars, diets and diamonds to get your face into Variety press, then when things come tumbling down, or you go the way of the dodo, you can't expect writers like Charles Fleming to look the other way - and Fleming certainly does not!
This book is cruel. It does nothing for Simpson or his family and friends. If you know the man well or have been close to him then this is nothing more than despicable tabloid trash. However the rest of the world may not see it that way. We have an interest. How did the most powerful movie producer in Hollywood live? What made him tick? What did he eat for breakfast and what do people really think about him? Fleming is able to give us an angle, although it is an extremely limited one. It seems that anybody who had a good thing to say about this man just shut up and didn't want to talk to Fleming during his research. Unfortunately, the end result is that the only people who wanted to talk are those who didn't like Simpson much and Fleming's rendition of this producers life is marred almost by a secular group, who... well... to put to bluntly... hated the man's guts.
So this book ends up being pure sleaze with a big capitol "S". Fleming for life of him is trying to tell the reader something along the lines of - "Look, I am trying to find the man's good side, really, truly I am, but there are just so many people who hate the guy and want to say something that I just can not avoid them, really I can't." and then to break the monotony of all the bad press he is giving to Simpson, Fleming manages to find a hooker who says - "Gee, he was a sweet man who paid me well in bed." or some burnt out junky who says - "Simpson, oh yeah (sniff) that dude (sniff) we had a really crazy time together (sniff) and he was really nice to people who had powder (sniff)."
As soon as Fleming hears the words - Cruise, Gere, Smith, Murphy, Schwarzenegger, Gibson, Stallone, Willis, Johnson he is off like the wind to find out what is there. To be honest this book takes no prisoners and if you are involved in the industry then Fleming is going to give you a Royal shafting with cheese.... extra CHEESE.
When all is said and done, and you feel like you have read more Sleaze than all of the editions of National Enquirer put together, you might actually discover that Fleming has a moral to his story - that the life of Don Simpson, although a successful one, is a lesson to learn for all who venture down the path of excess. It is not a bad lesson to learn, however out of millions upon millions of readers who have scanned these pages, maybe one or two will ever get close to touching the royal robes and certainly it is odds on favorite that they will just be made cannon fodder for the mysterious monsters that haunt Fleming's world of fame.
This is swill with cream on top... but its still swill... however, it is excellent swill at that. So gobble up your swill and have your fill. When you are sick with yourself afterwards maybe you should pay more attention to that which you are eating and using, or you might end up like our friend here. How ironic this book turns out to be. A paradox that is talking about the very things that we should try and stay away from.
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