Amazon.com Review
Frederica Sagor Maas's life encompasses nearly the entire 20th century (she was born in early July 1900), and during the early years of the Hollywood film industry, she was as fierce a competitor for success as any man. Miss Sagor, still a student at Columbia College, was hired by Universal Pictures as an assistant story editor in 1920, when the job basically entailed attending Broadway plays and determining whether the studio should buy the film rights. Because her boss was an alcoholic, she soon found herself in complete charge of the story department. But she wanted to write screenplays herself, so she went to Hollywood and landed a job adapting a novel called
The Plastic Age, which Preferred Pictures had acquired as a perfect vehicle for the "It Girl," Clara Bow.
In The Shocking Miss Pilgrim, Frederica--who met and married filmmaker Ernest Maas in 1927--shows how, despite her screenwriting abilities, her career in motion pictures was stymied by her outspoken disagreements with studio bosses, and how many of those around her gave into debauchery. (At one party, she reports, "undressed, tousled men chased naked women, shrieking with laughter. Included in this orgy was Ray Long, Mr. Hearst's representative; Harry Rapf, my own producer; and even the immaculate Irving Thalberg--all drunk, drunk, drunk.") Her memoir's prose has a charming tone, perfectly matching her Jazz Age exploits, which take up the bulk of the story. She also discusses the decline of the Maas's careers, which they finally abandoned after the Second World War, but not before writing a musical (called The Shocking Miss Pilgrim) for Betty Grable. The best passages concern Frederica's adventures in a young industry that was still discovering itself, such as her part in the creation of a motion picture legend: newly arrived actress Lucille LeSueur came up to her one day and said, "I like the way you dress. You dress like a lady. I need that. I want to be dressed right. Smart. I figured you could help." One shopping expedition later, and Joan Crawford was taking her first steps toward stardom. --Ron Hogan
From Publishers Weekly
"This is a story that will make you angry," warns Brownlow, a noted film historian. Maas, a screenwriter during the 1920s, '30s and '40s, delivers on that promise. In 1920, she answered a New York Times classified ad from Universal Pictures, becoming, at age 23, Universal's N.Y.C. story editor. In 1925, she arrived in Hollywood, turned down a screen test and instead scripted a Clara Bow vehicle, The Plastic Age. Installed in the MGM writers' bungalow, she tackled a rewrite of Dance Madness (1926) but proved so "ignorant of studio politics" that she was labeled a "troublemaker" by producer Harry Rapf. After her 1927 marriage to script writer and producer Ernest Maas, the couple survived the coming of sound films, the Depression and various earthquakes, but dry scripting spells and the constant theft of their ideas, stories and credits led them to quit the business. In 1950 she "bid farewell, without tears, to the Hollywood screen industry that had so entangled and entrapped me in its web of promises." Maas trashes Hollywood legends, recalling Louis B. Mayer as "a very fearful, insecure man"; Clara Bow dancing nude on a tabletop; Jeanne Eagels squatting to urinate in the midst of a film set; and Marion Davies commenting on her affair with Hearst: "I'm a slave, that's what. A toy poodle." In this memorable tell-all, rise-and-fall memoir, Maas brings the gimlet hindsight of Julia Phillips's You'll Never Eat Lunch in This Town Again to early Hollywood, and the results are thoroughly captivating. Photos. (June)
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