“Somehow, I’ve managed to live an unusual and amazing life. Was it in spite of or because of what follows?”
-Barry Sonnenfeld (from Barry Sonnenfeld, Call Your Mother, page xvii)
Back before COVID-19 when people still got excited about new theatrical releases, the movie industry would invariably parade a film’s star around for a promotional junket. Directors, most of whom are more comfortable in control and behind a camera, rarely went out to flog their merchandise. Hollywood veteran Barry Sonnenfeld was a big exception: He was sometimes more interesting than a few of his films (*cough*ahem* Wild Wild West *cough*). Whenever he made an appearance on The Late Show with David Letterman, he was a consistently interesting and entertaining guest, and I was always sure to tune in as he’d spin tales of his everyday life; an excellent raconteur with the timing of a Las Vegas stage veteran and a man who prides himself as the most neurotic man in Hollywood, going so far as to quarrel with Seinfeld and Curb Your Enthusiasm co-creator Larry David as to who is more heavily afflicted with the mild form of mental illness (a sad contest that even if you win, you lose). He began as a cinematographer for the Coen brothers as well as Penny Marshall and Danny DeVito, and eventually achieved directing success with quirky commercial fare like The Addams Family movies, Get Shorty and the first 3 Men in Black films. Watching him I’d hope he would one day write a memoir. And with Barry Sonnenfeld, Call Your Mother: Memoirs of a Neurotic Filmmaker, I finally got my wish. But while he can hold my attention for 2 or 3 TV segments, does he have enough gas for a full book?
Barry Sonnenfeld, Call Your Mother is essentially 3 stories in 1: There are chronicles of the author’s life growing up with sub-standard (and that is being nice) parents (by the way the title event of his book, where he has to call his mother, occurred on the exact day of my birth believe it or not, but I digress) that are a series of anecdotes that are often amusing, sometimes acerbic, and on occasion downright horrific, amusing personal yarns of working in show business, from the lowest depths to the very top, and technical aspects like what camera lens to use for what effect, what kind of film stock would work best, lighting tricks, and why some movies work while others fail to achieve due to something as simple as excessive or inappropriate camera movement.
The main problem I had with the book is its lack of consistency. Some of the aforementioned tales really cook, while others fall flat. But the ones that had pop really worked, and the lame ones were not without virtue, but rather seemed somewhat lacking and incomplete. Many chapters did not have an ending as much as they just ended and Sonnenfeld’s wording is too often terse and minimalist, much like a screenplay (not surprisingly). His style is dry and sardonic, but lacks the kind of real heavyweight wit or insightfulness I was expecting. It for the most part does not rise above the level of a late-night TV talk show interview, which in and of itself is not entirely without merit.
I laughed out loud more than once, was moved, even shocked at multiple parts and was especially fond of the tech talk, which made me feel like I was back in TV and film class at Dawson and Concordia again.
So, was Barry Sonnenfeld, Call Your Mother: Memoirs of a Neurotic Filmmaker enjoyable? I would have to say yes. But it could have and should have been more.
Curtains Up reviewer Andreas Kessaris’s new book The Butcher of Park Ex and Other Semi-Truthful Tales (MiroLand) will be published on October 1. Pre-order here.
Twitter: @AKessaris
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/andreas_kessaris/
