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1940s Hollywood comes alive in this sequel to The Prince of Beverly Hills.
Rick Barron—former Beverly Hills cop, now head of production of Centurion pictures—returns in a page turning novel of murder, political intrigue, and betrayal. Set in 1940s Hollywood, it is the era of the "Red Scare"—when almost anyone could be suspect.
Stuart Woods is the author of fifty novels, including the New York Times-bestselling Stone Barrington and Holly Barker series. He is a native of Georgia and began his writing career in the advertising industry. Chiefs, his debut in 1981, won the Edgar Award. An avid sailor and pilot, Woods lives in New York City, Florida, and Maine.
However, despite his best intentions, Woods got sidetracked in Ireland. He was nearly 100 pages into a novel when he discovered the seductive pleasures of sailing. "Everything went to hell," he quips on his web site "All I did was sail." He bought a boat, learned everything he could about celestial navigation, and competed in the Observer Singlehanded Transatlantic Race (OSTAR) in 1976, finishing respectably in the middle of the fleet. (Later, he took part in the infamous Fastnet Race of 1979, a yachting competition that ended tragically when a huge storm claimed the lives of 15 sailors and 4 observers. Woods and his crew emerged unharmed.)
Returning to the U.S., Woods wrote two nonfiction books: an account of his transatlantic sailing adventures (Blue Water, Green Skipper) and a travel guide he claims to have written on a whim. But the book that jump-started his career was the opus interruptus begun in Ireland. An absorbing multigenerational mystery set in a small southern town, Chiefs was published in 1981, went on to win an Edgar Award, and was subsequently turned into a television miniseries starring Charlton Heston.
An amazingly prolific author, Woods has gone on to pen dozens of compelling thrillers, juggling stand-alone novels with installments in four successful series. (His most popular protagonists are New York cop-turned-attorney Stone Barrington, introduced in 1991's New York Dead, and plucky Florida police chief Holly Barker, who debuted in 1998's Orchid Beach.) His pleasing mix of high-octane action, likable characters, and sly, subversive humor has made him a hit with readers -- who have returned the favor by propelling his books to the top of the bestseller lists.
His first job was in advertising at BBDO in New York, and his first assignment was to write ads for CBS-TV shows. He recalls: "They consisted of a drawing of the star and one line of exactly 127 characters, including spaces, and I had to write to that length. It taught me to be concise."
He flies his own airplane, a single-engine turboprop called a Jetprop, and tours the country every year in it, including book tours.
He's a partner in a 1929 motor yacht called Belle and spends two or three weeks a year aboard her.
In 1961-62, Woods spent 10 months in Germany with the National Guard at the height of the Berlin Wall Crisis.
In October and November of 1979, he skippered a friend's yacht back across the Atlantic, with a crew of six, calling at the Azores, Madeira, and the Canary Islands and finishing at Antigua in the Caribbean.
Chapter 1
Rick Barron took one last look through the viewfinder, then he turned to the assistant director. "Conversation," he said.
The AD held up a megaphone and shouted, "Conversation!"
At once, a hundred and fifty extras, packed into a set that was a replica of Sardi's, the famous theater-district restaurant in New York, began to talk.
"Acton," Rick said quietly.
"Speed," the camera operator replied.
Waiters began to move among the tables.
"Cue the entrance," Rick said.
"Entrance," the AD said into a microphone hanging around his neck. He signaled the dolly man, and the camera began to roll smoothly down the restaurant's main aisle toward the entrance of the restaurant.
The front door opened, and his leading lady, Glenna Gleason, wearing a gorgeous evening gown and followed by another actress and two actors, all in evening dress, walked in and were greeted by a Vincent Sardi look-alike. As they walked past the small bar and entered the dining room, the camera backtracked, and, on cue, all the diners stood and applauded.
Glenna managed to look shocked, then delighted as she followed "Sardi" to their table along the wall. The camera stopped and moved in closer as a microphone boom was lowered over the false wall to pick up their dialogue.
"My God," Glenna said, "I didn't know it would be like this."
The actor on her left turned to her. "Katherine," he said, "it's going to be like this from now on."
On Rick's signal, the camera began to dolly slowly away from the table and, keeping Glenna's party in the center of the frame, rose to a height of twelve feet and stopped.
"Keep the conversation going," Rick said from his chair on the boom next to the camera. He sat and watched the stopwatch in his hand for ninety seconds, which was what they needed to roll under the closing titles. "Cut!" he yelled, finally. "Print it! That's a wrap!" It was the fourth take, and it was perfect. They had shot the three scenes at Sardi's all on the same day, and now it was done: Rick had made his first feature film as a director. He sagged with relief as the camera operator pounded him on the back.
Then, to his astonishment, every actor on the set rose from his seat and gave the director a standing ovation. Rick stood up, holding on to the camera for support, then turned and faced the bulk of the crowd, "Cut!" he yelled again. "Start the party!"
A part of the rear wall of the set was rolled away, revealing a huge buffet table and a bar serving real booze instead of the tea in the prop glasses on the table. The crowd of extras surged toward the food and drink, and Rick signaled the boom operator to lower the camera to the floor. He hopped off and slid into a banquette beside his wife, giving her a big kiss. "Glenna, my darling, that was great. It's going to be wonderful, the whole thing."
Two of the actors got up from the table and made way for Eddie Harris, the chairman of Centurion Studios, and Sidney Brooks, the famous New York playwright, who had written the script for Times Square Dance.
"Rick," Eddie said, "congratulations."
Champagne appeared and was poured.
"I thought the last scene went beautifully," Brooks said to everybody.
"Sid, we're going to do your script proud," Rick said. "Just give me a couple of days, and I'll show you a rough cut."
"I can't wait," Brooks replied.
"I have to go pee," Glenna said, and Rick let her out of the banquette. The actor playing her husband got up, too, leaving Rick, Eddie Harris and Sidney Brooks at the table.
"Fellas," Brooks said, "I have to tell you something."
Rick looked at the man across the table. For the first time since he had met the playwright, the man looked less than happy.
"What's up, Sid?" Eddie asked.
"I wanted to tell you before it hits the papers tomorrow," Brooks said.
"Tell us what?" Rick asked.
"I've been subpoenaed by the House of Un-American Activities Committee, along with eighteen other people, mostly writers but a few actors and one director."
"Oh, shit," Eddie said. "Well, don't worry about it; get a good lawyer."
"I'm sorry, Sid," Rick said, "But Eddie is right about the lawyer."
"There's a meeting tomorrow," Brooks replied. "I want to tell you fellows…"
"You don't need to tell us anything," Eddie said.
"You mean, you'd rather not know, don't you Eddie?"
"The first thing your lawyer is going to tell you is to shut up," Eddie said. "I'm just giving you a head start; don't say anything to anybody, unless your lawyer approves it first."
"I'm not looking to drag anybody into this," Brooks said. "I just want to be honest with you. This picture has been the best experience I've had since I came out here four years ago; it's the first picture that's given me the same sort of satisfaction that writing a play used to."
"Look, Sid," Rick said, "these people are going to hold their hearings, grill some movie stars, and then it'll be over. Six months from now you'll have put it behind you."
Brooks set his briefcase on the table, opened it and pulled out a thick manila envelope. "I've been working on this for two years," he said. "I've never told anybody about it, but it's the best thing I've ever written for either the stage or film, and after the wonderful experience I've had with the production of Times Square Dance, I want you fellows to produce it, and, Rick, I'd be delighted if you'd direct again."
"Thank you, Sid," Rick said, and he meant it. "I'll read it tonight."
"Tell your agent to call Rick in the morning," Eddie said, "We'll have a deal before lunchtime."
"But you haven't even read it, Eddie," Brooks said, laughing.
"I don't need to. I'll buy it sight unseen."
Rick knew that wasn't quite true, but he knew that Eddie expected to like the script; he would want Rick's opinion first, though.
"It's a western," Brooks said.
"What?" Rick exclaimed. "The theater's urban genius has written a western?"
"The grittiest, down-and-dirtiest western you ever saw," Brooks said. "I love westerns, and I've always wanted to write one; to tell you the truth, it's the principal reason I came out here, just to get the opportunity. I've had the idea for a long time, but it wouldn't work on the stage, and I didn't want it produced without the level of participation you fellows have given me."
"Thank you, Sid," Rick said.
Glenna returned from the ladies' room and sat down. "I called home," she said. "The girls are fine, and I told Rosie to give them dinner and put them to bed. I take it we'll be here for a while."
"I think we will," Rick said. "I think I'd better circulate and thank everybody." He handed Brooks' script to her. "Guard this with your life," he said. "It's the next Sidney Brooks film."
"Oh, is there a part for me?" she asked excitedly.
"I haven't read it yet, sweetheart; I'll let you know tomorrow." Rick got up and began making his way around the Sardi's set, shaking hands, hugging and kissing and enduring many claps on the back.
A moment later, Eddie Harris caught up with him. "Listen, kid," he said, leaning into Rick's ear, "If that script is any good we need to get into production fast."
"I'm supposed to personally produce the new war film," Rick said. "We could do it right after that."
"I got a bad feeling about these HUAC hearings," Eddie said. "I'd rather have Sid's film in the can, even if we have to postpone production on the war movie."
"Okay. I'll call you when I've read it," Rick said. Eddie fell away, and Rick continued his rounds, but his euphoria at finishing shooting had been pricked by Eddie Harris, and air was leaking out.
Anonymous
Posted August 24, 2011
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Posted May 7, 2009
I have enjoyed past books by Stuart Woods. This one is just OK. It was interestingly set in the 40s which made it a little different. Simple story and a one time read. --K--
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Posted June 8, 2008
While I agree this is not Mr. Woods best book, it is an easy read, entertaining, simple story - what I would call a beach read or a day at the pool. If you read the Stone Barrington series, you will wonder what, if any, the end of this book is setting up..........
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Posted June 10, 2008
At least this novel had the benifit of being somewhat fresh as it's only the second installment in this series. One of the flaws in this book 'and most of Woods' works' in my opinion is that all the characters that meet socially become instant fast friends and all business dealings go smoothly and everyone can't do enough good things or pay a high enough price to the people they deal with. I tend to think that the road to fame and fortune is a little rockier than depicted in this book. Oh, and Vance Calder, who is 19 years old, could easily be mistaken for a 40 year old.
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Posted April 5, 2008
As a reader of 60-70 novels per year, I come across all types of writers. Alas, I am afraid that Stuart Woods has joined the ranks of writers who just add their names to another writers work. Case in point, James Patterson. BH Dead must have been written by a high school english major. It reads like the writer was double parked and had to finish before the meter maid came. In a word....Terrible.
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Posted February 22, 2008
Now this is more like it! I read this book in a day! Woods' last book 'Shoot him before he leaves' in my opinion was a very weak effort & it was the first book of Woods' that I hated. This book really captured the era of the Hollywoood blacklists. I liked it.
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Posted January 28, 2008
A number of reviewers have written that this book falls far short of the standard of quality we've come to expect form Mr. Woods. While I agree this is not his best effort, there's quite a lot to like about it. His recreation of the period is vivid and almost 'cinematic' in detail. The plot contains enough surprises to keep you guessing all the way to the end. No masterpiece, but a solid diversion nonetheless.
Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.Beverly Hills Dead Stuart Woods Putnam, Jan 2008, $25.95 ISBN: 9780399154690 In the 1940s the House on Un-American Activities Committee is just beginning its witch hunt and Hollywood is starting to feel the effect. Rick Barron, head of production of Centurion Pictures, has no interest in politics, but his antenna quivers when Communist Cards are sent to him with the names of Bitter Creek screenwriter Sid Banks and Laurie Brecht, who happens to be his movie star wife Glenna Gleason. Rick arranges for the matter to be taken care of quietly, but Sid is blackballed when he refuses to name names to the HUAC members. Most of Hollywood runs from Sid to avoid being painted with his taint. His movie is near completion with new stars Vance Calder and Susie Stafford in the lead. The pair becomes romantically involved and she is to move into his home when she vanishes. Soon afterward she is found dead in a dump. Rick demands the police find her killer while Sid becomes a willing friendly witness for HUAC, which restores his name. However, both Rick and Sid know HUAC has unfinished business with them as the Congress will leave no stone unturned. --- This historical mystery focuses on the beginning of the HUAC ¿Red Scare¿ witch hunt that terrorized much of Hollywood in the late 1940 and early 1950s when the studio heads were more concerned over the bottom line than the ¿J¿accuse¿ mentality of DC. The murder mystery is cleverly devised so that red herrings and twists keep the audience guessing the identity of the killer. However that also detracts from a deep look at the opening phases of the HUAC on film making. Still this is an entreating tale that will have fans seeking the previous entry THE PRINCE OF BEVERLY HILLS. --- Harriet Klausner
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Overview
1940s Hollywood comes alive in this sequel to The Prince of Beverly Hills.
Rick Barron—former Beverly Hills cop, now head of production of Centurion pictures—returns in a page turning novel of murder, political intrigue, and betrayal. Set in 1940s Hollywood, it is the era of the "Red Scare"—when almost anyone could be suspect.