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Product Description
Adored by some, abhorred by others, actress Vilma Valentine is presumed dead after a fiery automobile collision in Mexico, her body never recovered. In the intervening years the fabled star is sighted more often than Bigfoot. Is it her ghost that crashes a party for Ronald Reagan in Juarez, appears at the deathbed of her estranged father in Rome, flees from Marion Davies and William Randolph Hearst at the Parthenon? In 1969 Virginia Dofstader wins the Valentine lookalike contest publicizing The Curse of Vilma Valentine by literary heavyweight Gerald Carstairs. In the course of the book’s promotion, it is discovered that Virginia’s mother looks even more like Vilma than Miss Dofstader does. As notorious in death as in life, Vilma haunts the imagination of aficionados of 1940s movies. Did she really kill all those husbands? Was she a Nazi spy? Was she truly responsible for the bombing of Pearl Harbor? Her story, a suspenseful stew of WWII saboteurs, stolen European artworks, murders and massacres, is told in the words of major Hollywood figures—lovers, friends, enemies, and Vilma herself. It’s all seasoned with a knowing dose of romantic comedy.
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Jonathan May (USA: AL) (2008/10/16):
"The Curse of Vilma Valentine" is, among other things, a comic hoot. At times it makes you laugh out loud. At times the wit sneaks up on you. The voices that tell Vilma's story are great. You start off with Groucho Marx, followed in short order by persons as varied as Yakima Canutt, William Faulkner, John Wayne, Marion Davies, and George Balanchine. Those characters totally invented (or so I assume) by the author are just as well done. I particularly liked Betty DaTodi with her dry delivery in the Eve Arden/Thelma Ritter role, Clydette White with her preserved-in-amber petulance, and Renee LaMarque with her edge of nastiness. The newspaper headlines, articles, and columns (including the conflicting opinions and prejudices of Hedda and Louella) are wonderfully done.
I get a sense of something serious under the surface: stardom and its discontents, the fickleness of public infatuation, the entertainment media as a fun-house mirror of actual events, the fluidity of identity, the need for stability. But don't let any of that scare you off. Just read and enjoy. And if you have any love for movies of the '30s and '40s, when you read the filmographies you'll be dying for the next Vilma Valentine Film Festival.
Jonathan May (USA: AL) (2010/09/07):
Adored by some, abhorred by others, actress Vilma Valentine is presumed dead after a fiery automobile collision in Mexico, her body never recovered. In the intervening years the fabled star is sighted more often than Bigfoot. Is it her ghost that crashes a party for Ronald Reagan in Juarez, appears at the deathbed of her estranged father in Rome, flees from Marion Davies and William Randolph Hearst at the Parthenon?In 1969 Virginia Dofstader wins the Valentine lookalike contest publicizing The Curse of Vilma Valentine by literary heavyweight Gerald Carstairs. In the course of the book’s promotion, it is discovered that Virginia’s mother looks even more like Vilma than Miss Dofstader does. As notorious in death as in life, Vilma haunts the imagination of aficionados of 1940s movies. Did she really kill all those husbands? Was she a Nazi spy? Was she truly responsible for the bombing of Pearl Harbor? Her story, a suspenseful stew of WWII saboteurs, stolen European artworks, murders and massacres, is told in the words of major Hollywood figures—lovers, friends, enemies, and Vilma herself. It’s all seasoned with a knowing dose of romantic comedy. "The Curse of Vilma Valentine" is, among other things, a comic hoot. At times it makes you laugh out loud. At times the wit sneaks up on you. The voices that tell Vilma's story are great. You start off with Groucho Marx, followed in short order by persons as varied as Yakima Canutt, William Faulkner, John Wayne, Marion Davies, and George Balanchine. Those characters totally invented (or so I assume) by the author are just as well done. I particularly liked Betty DaTodi with her dry delivery in the Eve Arden/Thelma Ritter role, Clydette White with her preserved-in-amber petulance, and Renee LaMarque with her edge of nastiness. The newspaper headlines, articles, and columns (including the conflicting opinions and prejudices of Hedda and Louella) are wonderfully done.
I get a sense of something serious under the surface: stardom and its discontents, the fickleness of public infatuation, the entertainment media as a fun-house mirror of actual events, the fluidity of identity, the need for stability. But don't let any of that scare you off. Just read and enjoy. And if you have any love for movies of the '30s and '40s, when you read the filmographies you'll be dying for the next Vilma Valentine Film Festival.
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