Customer Reviews

High Concept: Don Simpson and the Hollywood Culture of Excess

5 star:		(11)
4 star:		(13)
3 star:		(10)
2 star:		(4)
1 star:		(4)

 

 

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.

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.

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.

Yes, Don Simpson, as in Simpson-Bruckheimer, the creative team that did much to shape how movies are made. From the early 1980's, Simspon-Bruckheimer produced a string of incredible hits - "Officer and a Gentleman", "Flashdance", "Top Gun" and the Beverly Hills Cop flicks - that seemed universally derided yet implausibly popular. While Jerry Bruckheimer seems to be the man who dealt with the nuts and bolts of production, this book credits Don Simpson with the brainstorms that turned uninspired treatments into blockbuster films (like casting America's favorite black comedian to star in a police-action movie originally slated to star Sylvester Stallone). True to its title, this book focuses on the now late Don Simpson who seems literally to have died of excess (sex, drugs and food). More than the story of the films he made, "High Concept" tells the story of Simpson and how he came to Hollywood from unspectacular origins to become a star himself. When that dream proved impossible (he cast himself in a key role in one of his own flicks - virtually all of his scenes ended up on the cutting room floor) and his own status as a power-player seemed diminishe, the excesses that had already become an established part of his life came to dominate it entirely. Simpson's weight yoyoed, wrecking his metabolism and compounding the strain inflicted by narcotics. Drunk driving accidents and a notorious addiction for hardcore sex further helped wreck Simpson's already suffering career. By 1995, Simpson was on deathwatch, and his ultimate overdose seemed less of a tragedy than release.

"High Concept" is actually two halves of two different stories, much in the same way that Simpson was half of two different people. First there was the Don Simpson who helped turn an incomprehensible script into a pop-driven blockbuster ("Flashdance") and solidified the importance of hit soundtracks for films that aren't really about music. Then there is Don Simpson the creep, ceaselessly vain and pathetically vulnerable. The second Simpson munches on junk food at all hours of the night, hires prostitutes for S&M, drops in and out of rehab and endlessly pines for the big break that eludes him. Despite the big money he earned, Simpson clearly understood that his was only one more level under the true power players. Resentment and reams of cash helped fuel Simpson's fatal addictions. Unfortunately, Fleming does little to flesh out either of these two people. Simpson and Bruckheimer's earlier successes were unlikely in the sense that they were a surprise even to those who made them. Fleming does little to illuminate the creative processes behind their films, though it's unclear whose fault that is - Fleming's for giving short shrift to a man with a shrewd sense of the American moviegoer, or Simpson who was both simply uncreative and lucky for a very long time. Instead, Fleming seems to want to skip what he must think is the stronger part of the story - the one about Don Simpson's late-night binges of rough sex and Ring-Dings.

Fleming gives each half too little focus, because he believes that each is part of a singular whole - that Simpson's story is merely an extreme example of what happens in Hollywood all the time. (Hollywood offers everyone the illusion of a chance to reinvent themselves, and an endless reservoir of addiction and pain for the point after the illusions are dashed.) But I'm not convinced - Jerry Bruckheimer continued churning out monumentally successful flicks ("Armageddon", "The Rock", "Bad Boys", "Crimson Tide" and "Pearl Harbor"); Nobody seems to think that Hollywood powerhouses Speilberg and Lucas are trapped in a coke and alcohol fueled nightmare; The worst of Simpson's excesses appear when his career as a moviemaker seems about over. Fleming seems to chart the flop "Days of Thunder" as the point-of-no-return. A glaring disappointment after the success of "Top Gun", "Thunder" was to mark Simpson's acting debut, playing one of Tom Cruise's NASCAR competitors. Instead, editing revealed the stark limits of Simpson's talent for both acting and self-invention. But the two Simpsons never become one, and Fleming's anecdotes of Hollywood as Babylon aren't as illuminating as simply lurid. Ironically, Fleming's book seems a failure because it follows the traditional Simpson/Bruckheimer model too closely - an unending stream of mindless pleasure without direction or substance - but not so close that it's anywhere near as poignant as "An Officer", as funny as "Cop" or as high powered as "Top Gun".

Poorly written, very poorly edited, but well worth the information conveyed. With better writing and editing, it obviously could've been a better read, but the details given about politics in movie studios and the excesses of life in 1980's Hollywood make the book worth purchasing regardless. Almost entirely, the book doesn't hold back. It names names, places, and dirty deeds done. Author doesn't seem to have any personal vendettas against Hollywood or Simpson and therefore the book reads relatively objectively. Fleming pretty much criticizes everyone equally, while also finding time for some sparse praise.

There are numerous stories about Hollywood's excesses; the players who control the movie industry, their lifestyles, their fame and fortunes, and how they shape and re-shape the industry, and how most of Hollywood's famous and powerful men are 'bad boys'. Fleming's book draws an honest portrait of a man who was no different. Simpson has given us many blockbuster hits over the years, and he was no doubt a brilliant producer. But, he was also a man who was very insecured, and had many complexes. He would never come in accord with those complexes, and which ultimately brought him down. He was a compulsive sex- and-drug-addict, but he was also an extremely selfish man. He had used and abused numerous fellow human beings and perhaps had lost his conscience over the years as he was suffering more and more from his various complexes. Fleming's book takes readers through such a man's life, where money gives access to every imaginable bad things. It is scary to read page after page of self-abuse and abuse of other people, and gives an inside peek into the life of a man 'haunted' by insecurity and more talented people around. Simpson was no different than an average man, except that he had more talent. And, he had the guts to carry out his fantasies in real life. And in order to do that, one has to have very little morals. But, in this world, talent perhaps conquers almost everything in life, except life itself. Extreme success comes from talent and hard work, which Don Simpson had definitely found, and abusing good things will ultimately bring one down, as it did to Simpson. Fleming's book is definitely a good read, not just for an insight into Hollywood's bad practices, but also how morals are shattered by constant use and practice of excessively bad things.

A great inside look at the insane world of Hollywood. Don Simpson is a clear representation of how your personal habits and experiences have little to do with your success in Hollywood. If you know about Simpson and his lifestyle, this book will serve as a tool to further insight into a mad genus of the classic Hollywood narrative. If you are unfamiliar with him, this book will widen your eyes to the excesses of Hollywood and what really goes on beyond the red carpets and glamour. A great inside peek at the world of Hollywood and what makes up the people that make the movies America loves.

Mr. Fleming manages to compile a tremendous number of tales describing the wild and crazy life of Don Simpson. The book gives a great feel for both the cocaine-fueled 1980s and the power of High Concept movies that continue to drive Hollywood today.

Since Don Simpson is credited with the creation of the High Concept picture, he actually provides a compelling icon for the rise and fall of moviemaking in the 80s and 90s. The book includes descriptions of the making of Simpson's films (Flashdance, Beverly Hills Cop, Top Gun, Crimson Tide, Bad Boys, and The Rock) and his rollercoaster life as he produced these films with Jerry Bruckheimer.

Simpson and Bruckheimer are often dismissed for making "big, dumb films," but I think there's more to it than that. For example, Simpson: "I don't believe in the auteur theory. The movie is the auteur. It tells us what it needs to be. We're here to serve the movie as a mistress. No one person, director, or writer, is above the call of the final result."

Simpson very consistently throughout the book talks about putting concept first and how that determines the movie to be made. Simpson's filmmaking philosophy is interesting and the book does a great job of presenting it within a great story of excessive and destructive behavior.

(sigh) I am so terribly pedestrian - how could I stand here and say anything but 'cor blimey guv'nor, more please!' to this tale.

Fleming has gone for the tabloid jugular with this book and taken a meaty bite. How could a story such as this be anything but trashy? Thankfully, it makes no bones about what it is. Fleming's day job is writing for Variety, not Literature Boffins R Us!

Don Simpson was a rotund dork who was so insecure he had to pay to get laid and then blow away the memories of the day with white powder - that's pretty much the gist of Fleming's story. In between the lists of Don's bathroom cabinet contents are all the little morsels, amusing anecdotes and fabulously 80s one-liners from the people that really run Hollywood.

The book is pretty much one of Don'n'Jerry's adrenaline fueled films scratched into paper. Which naturally means you read it with your jaw slightly open, jealous of all the big chests, gleaming teeth and fabulous houses that you as the hoi polloi will never have. It sums up the 1980s perfectly, a snapshot of a decade that not so much looked in the mirror, but leaned over it.

Sure, it does nothing for Simpson's character, but then again, a man who lived to such excess as him should not really anticpate that anyone would hold him in high regard. This is the man that inflicted the Tom Cruise of today on us. (And therefore also responsible for Tom Cruise's shabby attempts to get out from under this shadow!) He gave us films that are cinematic fluff. He framed his paychecks. Depth? Like a kiddie swimming pool, my friend.

It seems a shame that so many people would not talk about Don because if anything, this book does needs a bit of balance between stories of 'he injected fat into his penis' and 'he made tapes called Bonnie Beats Mary'. The seamy stories come so thick and fast, one whammy after another - it gets quite tiring. However, it would have been a waste striving for balance - Simpson himself was out of kilter completely and told so many white lies about his life to all and sundry, it's doubtable that anyone really knew him after all.

I love this book though. Sheer entertainment, no thinking required. Fleming ran with what he had - an all out, free for all juggernaut of a story about people who get what they wish for. And in true Hollywood stylee, all those naughty execs who have been named in the book, and survived Don, will not get burned at all, merely hung up in the hall of fame for Hollywood excess. I have realised that I am completely in the wrong line of work! Let me pitch you this.....

Just like Oliver Stone's Natural Born Killers overturned the glossy surface of middle America and showed the rotting core underneath, Charles Fleming has lifted back the parties, superstar deals, glitz and excitement we all like to believe Hollywood is floating upon and show the corruption, drugs, and suicidal lifestyles beneath. Don Simpson was not by any means a great producer. He was a successful producer, which is all that matters in Hollywood. He may not have even been a bad man. But he was the epitome of what Hollywood wishes it could be. Eternally young, surrounded by fast cars and endless excesses of sex and substance. Unfortunately, he seemed the only one who failed to realise that it was always only a glitzy dream, and that his body and mind would take only so much. His death is a loss more to Wall St financiers than moviegoers, because as Chalres Fleming accurately said, the high concept movie that he pioneered with partner Bruckheimer (who continues with the tried and true formula to this day with flash hits such as Armageddon) was like the popcorn for sale in the theatre lobby - easy to digest but devoid of flavour. High Concept gave a lot of insights into Hollywood life and the circles in which Don Simpson and probably many more big names live, and if Fleming's research/knowledge are accurate, then this must surely be the insiders bible into how Hollywood works.