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By Joe Eszterhas

Joe Eszterhas had every thing Hollywood may offer. A mix of insider and insurgent, he observed and took part within the fights, the bargains, the backstabbing, and all of the sex and medicines. yet right here, in his candid and heartwrenching memoir, we see the rest of the tale: the inspiring account of the kid of Hungarian immigrants who, opposed to all odds, grows as much as reside the yank Dream. Hollywood Animal finds the trajectory of Eszterhas's existence in gripping element, from his formative years in a refugee camp, to his conflict with a devastating melanoma. It indicates how a suffering journalist turned the main profitable screenwriter of all time, and the way a guy who had entry to the main attractive ladies in Hollywood finally selected to stay with the affection of his lifestyles in a small city in Ohio. certainly, it's the tale of a father and a son, and the turbulent dating that was once an never-ending cycle of heartbreak. Hollywood Animal is a captivating, provocative memoir: a relocating occasion of the human spirit.

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We trooped again into the limo and went to Scandia for lunch. United Artists had made the reservation for us. Scandia used to be the easiest seafood position on the town. A bottle of Dom Pérignon was once awaiting us while the maître d’ led us to our desk, courtesy of United Artists. We checked out our menus and ordered. My father stated to the waiter, “Corn red meat sandwich. ” He spoke with a thick accessory. The waiter acknowledged: “Excuse me? ” “Corn beef,” my father stated, louder now. The waiter checked out me. “I’m sorry,” he acknowledged, “I’m having trouble understanding—” “My father would favor a corned pork sandwich,” I acknowledged. “We don’t serve corned pork sandwiches, sir,” the waiter acknowledged to me a bit haughtily. I advised my father in Hungarian that they didn’t have corned pork. “No corn red meat? ” my father stated, performing as if he’d been insulted. “What type of position did you deliver me to? ” he acknowledged. “This is the most important position in Hollywood they usually don’t have a corn pork sandwich? ” once we bought again to the resort, my father made up our minds to take a sleep earlier than the night’s festivities. Gerri used to be getting her hair performed and that i had an interview within the resort bar with one other reporter who desired to do a narrative approximately my feud with Sylvester Stallone. whereas i used to be passing during the foyer so one can the bar, a receptionist without warning stopped me. “Mr. Eszterhas,” she acknowledged, “I have a cell demand you. ” I stepped to the telephone and heard my father at the different finish. “Get up right here! ” he stated in Hungarian. He sounded very dissatisfied. “Where are you? ” “Where do you think that i'm? I’m upstairs! ” I moved quickly up. I couldn’t think what used to be incorrect. I’d left him seconds previous and he used to be advantageous, nonetheless grumbling approximately having to devour herring and bitter cream rather than a corned pork sandwich. while I bought off the elevator on the 7th flooring, I observed him. He used to be on the finish of the corridor together with his again to me. He used to be crouched over the corridor cell. He was once donning in simple terms his boxer undershorts. I moved quickly to him. “What are you doing out right here within the hallway on your gotchis, Pop? ” I requested him. “I locked myself out. ” “How did you lock your self out? ” “There are too many rooms in there,” he acknowledged. “I used to be going from the bed room to the lounge and that i chanced on myself out the following. ” That evening, whilst the limo pulled as much as the theater—there have been spotlights within the sky, flashbulbs going off, policemen everywhere—I suggestion all of us seemed reliable. My father and that i had our rented tuxes on. Gerri used to be donning her new night dress and new footwear. We received out of the limo and commenced jogging down the crimson carpet as photographers have been snapping and flashing away. Gerri was once within the heart, her hands crooked into my father’s and mine. “Who the hell is that? ” one of many photographers yelled. “The screenwriter,” one other photographer acknowledged. “You’re kidding me,” the photographer acknowledged, and stopped losing his movie. · · · midway down the crimson carpet, Gerri unexpectedly stopped. “Oh my God,” she acknowledged. “What’s the problem? ” “I misplaced my shoe. ” i peeked again. I observed her shoe approximately 5 ft in the back of us at the pink carpet. the 3 people became, arm in arm, and she or he very gracefully stepped into her shoe.

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