The Guttenberg Bible: A Memoir

( 2 )

Overview

“Forget being an actor. You don’t have the look, you don’t have the talent, and your name is ridiculous. You are the last guy I would ever pick to be a movie star.”

This was the first piece of advice Steve Guttenberg ever received from an agent. Like many other times in his life, he didn’t listen.

In this honest, charming memoir, Guttenberg tells the unique story of his first decade in Hollywood, as he went from being a complete unknown to starring in some of the most successful...

See more details below
Hardcover (First Edition)
$31.59
BN.com price
(Save 9%)$34.99 List Price
Other sellers (Hardcover)
  • All (34) from $1.99   
  • New (10) from $2.97   
  • Used (24) from $1.99   
The Guttenberg Bible: A Memoir

Available on NOOK devices and apps  
  • NOOK Devices
  • NOOK HD/HD+ Tablet
  • NOOK
  • NOOK Color
  • NOOK Tablet
  • Tablet/Phone
  • NOOK for Windows 8 Tablet
  • NOOK for iOS
  • NOOK for Android
  • NOOK Kids for iPad
  • PC/Mac
  • NOOK for Windows 8
  • NOOK for PC
  • NOOK for Mac
  • NOOK Study
  • NOOK for Web

Want a NOOK? Explore Now

NOOK Book (eBook - First Edition)
$7.99
BN.com price

Overview

“Forget being an actor. You don’t have the look, you don’t have the talent, and your name is ridiculous. You are the last guy I would ever pick to be a movie star.”

This was the first piece of advice Steve Guttenberg ever received from an agent. Like many other times in his life, he didn’t listen.

In this honest, charming memoir, Guttenberg tells the unique story of his first decade in Hollywood, as he went from being a complete unknown to starring in some of the most successful blockbusters of all time. He spent his early days sneaking onto the Paramount lot and meeting more actors and casting agents than most aspiring actors ever would. Even before the hit Police Academy—-which his manager said would be a flop—-he had already worked with such luminaries as Lord Laurence Olivier, Richard Widmark, and Gregory Peck. Later he shared the screen with actors such as Mickey Rourke and Sharon Stone long before they became household names.

Guttenberg has lived through the addictive pull of show business and worldwide celebrity (you’re no one until you have a stalker, he learns). With a clear-eyed appreciation for the one-of-a-kind experiences that the celebrity lifestyle has to offer, he knew that his family would keep him grounded throughout it all. And his self-awareness and sense of humor about the ups and downs of fame make The Guttenberg Bible one of the most candid Hollywood stories to date.

Read More Show Less

Editorial Reviews

Publishers Weekly
Actor Guttenberg, best known for his roles in Cocoon, Diner, Police Academy, and Three Men and a Baby, looks back on a decade (1977–1987) of his 35-year career. Fiercely ambitious, even in his teens, he spent the summer after high school graduation daily sneaking onto the Paramount lot by claiming to be Michael Eisner’s stepson. With “a phony requisitions form from the Happy Days set” he managed to acquire and furnish an empty office, splicing wires to install a telephone: “Two months in Hollywood and I had my own office.” After that wild opening chapter, it’s impossible to stop reading. Within weeks Guttenberg was cast in a KFC commercial, followed by a walk-on bit in a major film and a supporting role in a TV movie. His career was underway, eventually scoring big with the Police Academy series: “Once you start doing sequels of the sequels, then you get into a series, and a series spawns a franchise.” Guttenberg’s approach is that of a naïve waif adrift in the Hollywood flotsam and jetsam, with celebrity anecdotes and cinematic insights bobbing to the surface as he paints a comedic patina over his past. At times, one questions how much his memories have been embellished. No matter. Guttenberg is a jocular juggernaut with his humor snowballing over the reader, so equally entertaining books are certain to follow. (May 8)
From the Publisher
"Steve Guttenberg has written a wonderfully funny memoir of his coming-of-age in Hollywood. The Guttenberg Bible is an on-the-money account of what an actor's life is really like."

—MARLO THOMAS, New York Times-bestselling author of Growing Up Laughing

“I first met Steve Guttenberg when he was an up-and-coming young actor on the set of Diner. Now, I’m glad to read his terrific memoir of his career’s early days, and the struggles and surprises that come with making your way in show business.”

—JERRY WEINTRAUB, New York Times-bestselling author of When I Stop Talking, You’ll Know I’m Dead

"The Guttenberg Bible is better than the original! More compelling reading anyway. Steve's story of his journey through Hollywood is for actors what Adventures in the Screen Trade is for writers. An honest, humorous and instructive account of how to navigate thru this crazy town we call Hollywood." 

WOODY HARRELSON

"From his first scene on I knew Steve Guttenberg would be a winner. He's proven it on the screen and now he's doing it as an author."

—ROBERT EVANS, author of The Kid Stays in the Picture

"It’s impossible to stop reading."

Publishers Weekly

“[Guttenberg] looks back on his first 10 years in Hollywood as a time of magical dreams and sobering realities. … Aspiring actors will surely gain keen insight into the challenges that may await them (if they’re lucky), while movie fans will be pleasantly assured that their faith in the dream factory’s ability to inspire is still warranted. An insider’s charming look at what it’s really like to be a Hollywood star.”

Kirkus Reviews

“The Hollywood memoir genre is inherently dicey, but this one is a winner. Guttenberg has a fetching style and is a good storyteller … Anyone who can tell funny personal stories about having worked with both Colonel Sanders and Sir Laurence Olivier is aces.”

Library Journal

“Guttenberg retains a wide-eyed outsider’s wonder at Hollywood, while offering an insider’s sharp analysis of the tough business of acting.  … An A memoir.”

Hollywood Reporter

“In this highly readable and candid memoir, Guttenberg reveals the twists and turns of his career.”

Tucson Citizen

Library Journal
"Forget being an actor. You don't have the look, you don't have the talent, and your name is ridiculous." So an agent told Guttenberg, who went on to headline such films as Police Academy. Here's a reputedly funny and self-deprecating look at how he pulled it off. The 75,000-copy first printing is good-sized for someone who made his name a while back.
Kirkus Reviews
The veteran character actor looks back on his first 10 years in Hollywood as a time of magical dreams and sobering realities. Guttenberg has made more than 50 films since first striking out for Hollywood as a brash teen in the late 1970s. Here he ably captures that 18-year-old's sense of awe and excitement as he began his career. First, he managed to sneak onto the Paramount lot where he promptly set up a private office and began engineering his own auditions. From there, he was soon enjoying a shvitz with Michael Landon and trading lines on set with Richard Widmark. Guttenberg has a fine ear for dialogue, and depictions of his regular calls back home to his salt-of-the-earth mom and dad are amusing and heartwarming. The fun and excitement slows a bit as his career begins to sputter. He eventually realized that no matter how much success he achieved, he would always be a hired hand, never quite sure where the next job would be. Meanwhile, multiple liaisons with assorted starlets and stalkers throughout the years get scant attention. Guttenberg isn't interested in naming names. Explaining just how tough it's been keeping his mug on the silver screen for all these years seems to be enough for him. The career gymnastics he has displayed adroitly leapfrogging from films like Cocoon to Three Men and a Baby are wholly entertaining on their own. Aspiring actors will surely gain keen insight into the challenges that may await them (if they're lucky), while movie fans will be pleasantly assured that their faith in the dream factory's ability to inspire is still warranted. An insider's charming look at what it's really like to be a Hollywood star.
Read More Show Less

Product Details

  • ISBN-13: 9780312383459
  • Publisher: St. Martin's Press
  • Publication date: 5/8/2012
  • Edition description: First Edition
  • Edition number: 1
  • Pages: 352
  • Sales rank: 1,350,145
  • Product dimensions: 6.48 (w) x 9.28 (h) x 1.20 (d)

Meet the Author

STEVE GUTTENBERG has starred in more than fifty films over the course of his career, including three successful series: Police Academy, Three Men and a Baby, and Cocoon. He has also appeared in such acclaimed work as Diner, The Boys from Brazil, and The Bedroom Window. On television, his work includes The Day After, To Race the Wind, and Miracle on Ice, as well as Gangs and Love Off Limits, which he directed. As a feature filmmaker, he adapted and directed P.S., Your Cat Is Dead. He produced and starred in the indie film A Novel Romance, which won best feature at the New York International Independent Film and Video Festival.

His theater credits include his Broadway debut in 1984, Prelude to a Kiss, The Boys Next Door in London’s the West End, and Furthest from the Sun at the Juene Lune Theatre in Minneapolis. He recently appeared on Broadway in Relatively Speaking, a collection of three one-act comedies, starring in Woody Allen’s “Honeymoon Motel.”

Read More Show Less

Read an Excerpt

Chapter 1

 

 

“You are the last guy I would pick to be a movie star.”

That’s what an agent said to me when I was sixteen.

He was a friend of my godfather, Michael Bell. You may not have heard of Michael as an actor, but you have definitely heard his voice. He is one of the preeminent voice-over specialists. In the ’70s, he would come from Hollywood to visit my family’s house in Long Island, New York, bringing with him rented sports cars, beautiful girlfriends, and plenty of money in his pocket. When people would ask me what I wanted to be, I would look at Michael and his life and say, “Whatever he does!” He was a star to me. This guy was an inspiration to a kid from Massapequa.

In 1975, Michael made an appointment for me to visit his agent’s New York office. I flew through Penn Station and ran twenty blocks to the skyscraper where I assumed my dreams would come true. I met two female agents and one older vice president of the agency. They were complimentary about my head shots, and I explained a bit about the theater experience I had in Long Island. Then, as if my dog had died, the VP asked the ladies to leave so he could speak to me alone. This started to give me the creeps. My first creep-out in show business, with more coming.

“I’m going to give you a gift,” he said, “something that I would give my own son.”

This is going to be good! I thought to myself.

Instead he said, “Get out of the business, get out of this office, and become something else. Forget being an actor. You don’t have the look, you don’t have the talent, and your name is ridiculous. I’m telling you this for your own good. This is a tough, competitive business that you have no place in. Take my advice, walk out these doors, no, run out these doors to Penn Station, get on the train back to Massapequa. You are the last guy I would ever pick to be a movie star.”

I swear I didn’t hear a thing he said.

*   *   *

On June 24, 1976, I graduated Plainedge High School, and already knew what I wanted to do. I had a girlfriend, of whom I was very fond, and could have stayed in the New York area, gone to college, and had a calm, normal life. But I had other things in mind.

Two days later I was on a plane to Los Angeles. I had three hundred dollars in my pocket, salami from my mother, and my father’s briefcase. Michael met me at the gate. We walked outside and Los Angeles hit me. The sunshine, the air, the energy.

We got to Michael’s car, a green BMW, and drove to his house. All the way we couldn’t shut up. It was all new to me, and I asked about each and every thing I saw. Michael is a chatterbox, too, and couldn’t help but give me the 411.

“That’s where James Dean auditioned for Rebel, that’s Beverly Hills, that way is Malibu where the stars all have beach houses, and over there, along those mountains, is Mulholland Drive, where I live. Oh, and so does Jack Nicholson, Marlon Brando, and Warren Beatty.”

We took the 405 freeway and got off on the Mulholland exit. After passing mansion after mansion overlooking the cliffs, we got to his place. He pointed across the street to Ernest Borgnine’s house.

McHale’s Navy? That guy?”

“Yep, but we in the acting business like to refer to him as the Academy Award winner for Best Actor for Marty.

We drove down Michael’s driveway, and there it was. A mansion overlooking the San Fernando Valley. We walked along a path that seemed right out of a movie. For that matter, so did everything I saw from then on.

I had two weeks to try and become a working actor. After that, I would be going to Albany University to study and enter the real world. But who knows, two weeks was a long time and anything could happen.

At dinner that night Michael suggested I take his extra car, a 1974 Pacer, and drive around Hollywood, look at the studios, and read Variety. “Just don’t do anything dangerous or your parents will kill me.”

The next morning I was up early to start my career. I bought Variety, which was exciting in itself. I drove past Warner Bros. in Burbank, then NBC. I took off to see Universal, then Twentieth Century-Fox, MGM in Culver City, and then the grande dame of them all, Paramount. That famous Bronson Gate made immortal in Sunset Boulevard. I could see in my mind William Holden and Gloria Swanson standing there, beckoning me in. And I noticed the guard smiling and waving people through. The card-punching clock for employees, and beyond the gates the famous Nickodell Restaurant where it looked as if starlet after starlet was coming in and out. My stomach even now has knots in it, remembering my excitement. The feeling of freedom, of possibilities! I drove home and dreamed of driving onto that lot.

That night I told Michael what I did, and he said, “You have thirteen days left.” He would bring me to his agents, Cunningham in Los Angeles, and introduce me. “You never know what can happen.”

The next day we went to the agency and he introduced me to Vic Sutton, Rita Vennari, and Marcia Hurwitz, three agents there that agreed to “send me out” if something came up. Send me out! That was as good as being told I won the lottery. After that, I called them every day, twice a day. I was polite, but persistent. I knew I had a short amount of time to make a dent in Hollywood.

*   *   *

Meanwhile, I learned how to sneak on the Paramount lot. That feat would be impossible now, with the advent of sophisticated security. Even then it wasn’t easy, but it was possible. That is one of the lessons that Hollywood taught me. Dreams aren’t easy but they are possible.

In those days, there was one guard at each gate. For two days, I stood outside watching the people go in and out. On the right side of the gate was a time clock. Most of the Paramount employees had to take their cards out of a rack, punch in the time they arrived, and then walk on the lot. They would always finish the routine with a wave to the guard and a “Hi, Sam.”

I mustered up my nerve. I had prepared by wearing my only sport coat, a corduroy number that I thought made me look older. I carried my father’s briefcase and walked across Melrose Avenue with a handful of “coworkers.”

I watched the guard let in a car and waited my turn to punch my card. Of course I didn’t have one, but I hadn’t thought of that! When my turn came I saw a group of blanks, slipped one in the slot, and heard the punch. I turned to Sam and waved, he waved back, and I was in.

I was in! I was on the Paramount lot! To the left were the studios for Happy Days, Mork & Mindy, Laverne & Shirley, and Little House on the Prairie. To the right were the executive offices and the movie sound stages. Everywhere I looked was opportunity, excitement, and my dreams coming true.

On that first day it felt like I walked a hundred miles on the ten-acre lot, and perhaps I did. What blew me away was the lot’s self-sufficiency. Since then I’ve seen it on all movie studio lots. They have their own furniture store, which is the prop house; a clothing store, the wardrobe department; their own fire station, hospital, and construction shop. Whatever you need, it’s there. It’s all perfectly private, with its own rules, laws, and culture. That’s what makes shooting on a lot so exciting. The real world’s boundaries are gone, and you can make your own universe. Which I suppose is why artists thrive behind those gates and can dream up whatever they want. I think it was John Ford who called the business “a dreamcatcher.”

I left after nightfall and drove home knowing that I had accomplished something special. I told Michael what I had done and he laughed and encouraged me to keep going. “Do whatever it takes, kid. You’ve got to have chutzpah!”

The next day, I parked my Pacer off of Melrose, put on my jacket, grabbed my briefcase (that had nothing but two Varietys in it), and gathered my courage. I waited for a few of my “fellow employees” to walk across the street and I followed. Lo and behold there was my card, no name but exactly where I had put it the day before. This time I mimicked one of the other workers and read a Variety while walking in and giving a wave to the guard.

This time he waved back, but also waved me over. I gave a look of amazement and impatience. I looked at my watch and thought I’m going to be late. Late for what, I didn’t know. But I knew I had to give the appearance that I belonged.

“Hey, I’ve never seen you before,” the guard said. “Who are you? Where do you work?”

“Um, um,” I stammered. I’d been caught and I started to sweat. I do that when I’m nervous. I can gush buckets. “I’m going to see my father.”

“Oh yeah, and who is your father?” He knew I was up to something. I looked down at my Variety. All I could see was President of Paramount Makes Boffo Deal.

I looked at the guard and with all the earnestness I could grab said, “I’m going to see my father, Michael Eisner.”

The guard couldn’t believe this if he tried. “Michael Eisner has little kids, not someone like you.”

At least the sport coat is working, I thought. I’m looking older. “Well, I’m his stepson, and I’m here to visit him.”

The guard shook his head and said he would have to call Mr. Eisner’s office to see if I was telling the truth. “What’s your name, young man?”

And my first improv began. “Sure, I’ll give you my name, but I want to know your name. Because I’m late as it is and you know what a stickler he is about time, and since I’m going to be late, I want to tell him who it is that made me even later! That’s right, buddy boy, my Dad is not in a very good mood today and I’m not taking the brunt of his wrath; what’s your name?”

The guard started stammering. “Um, um, you go on in. And say hi to your Dad.”

I smiled ear to ear. “Will do! Thank you!” I walked on the lot, swinging my briefcase, acting like I owned the place.

From then on that guard thought I was Eisner’s son, and every time I saw him I told him how much my “Dad” liked him. I can only imagine that every time Eisner went through those gates the guard thought he was on the president’s good list.

A couple of years later I was working on Players, a Paramount film for Robert Evans and Anthony Harvey (the director of The Lion in Winter), and Eisner visited our set in Cuernavaca, Mexico. As I shook his hand I asked if he knew the story. He said he did and praised me for my unconventional methods of getting on the lot. Thank goodness he thought it was funny. Little did I know that ten years later I would film one of the biggest hits he ever had at Disney, Three Men and a Baby.

*   *   *

For the rest of my two weeks, I got up and had my “jobs.” One was calling the agents twice a day to ask if there was anything in commercials coming up for me. The other was making my way over to the Melrose gate of Paramount, punching in, and wandering around the lot.

One of my first memories of my Paramount exploration is visiting the Happy Days set. And when I say “visit,” I use the word loosely. “Sneak on” is a better description. I remember standing behind the director’s chair, hearing Garry Marshall, the creator of the series, shouting out orders in a strong Bronx accent. I thought to myself that his was probably the model voice for Fonzie. Seconds later, in walked Henry Winkler. He hugged Garry and said without a trace of an accent, “I’m doing Shakespeare next week and my throat is getting sore!” The Fonz doing Shakespeare? I thought. And where is the tough accent? Henry is a Yale graduate, a classically trained actor, who can do anything that is put in front of him. But at that moment all I saw was The Fonz, and he had someone else’s voice.

I spent all my time on the lot and before I knew it my time was up and I was supposed to go home. But I had caught the acting bug. The night before I had to leave I asked Michael, “If it’s all right with you can I stay a little longer?”

“Of course it is, I’m proud of what you’ve done so far. You’ve got balls, kid.”

The next hurdle was to ask my Mother and Father if I could stay. I knew that was going to be a tough phone call. I had never been away from home this long and I had college coming up in August.

“Mom, Dad, can I stay here in California just a bit more?” I asked when I called them. There was a silence on the other end.

Finally, I heard my father growl, “Why, Steven?”

“I just think I can do something with the acting. I really think I can, Dad. I just need two more weeks.”

There was more silence. There had never been that much silence in my house.

“You can stay, but only for two more weeks. But then, Steven, you have to get home,” my father said sternly. “You have school coming up, and I want you enrolled.”

But I wanted to stay as long as I could. Two weeks turned into two months. Paramount became my home away from home. I would wander the lot from early morning till late in the evening, often sleeping in offices. I would sneak home at 5 or 6 A.M., shower, check in with Michael, and go back out. I would eat, sleep, and dream Paramount. Every sound stage had a phone on it and I used these to my full advantage. I would call the operator and ask to be connected to any of the numbers I needed. I would call the agency, call my friends in New York, and most important call my parents, promising to be home soon.

My favorite stage was the water set, which could be filled with tons of H2O so that boats could be put in it. It was often empty, so I used it as my first “office.” One day I came in and there was a full submarine set in there. Who was on the top deck but Charlton Heston and Christopher Reeve. Heston was in a nasty mood that day and was storming around the set. He walked up to me, in my trusty sport coat and briefcase, and yelled, “Do you work for Universal?”

I stammered like Jackie Gleason and answered the only way I knew how. “Yes, sir, I work for Universal.”

“Well, you tell those assholes if they don’t fix this script, I will, and you don’t want me doing that!”

Geez, Moses is pissed off, I thought. I’ve got to do something. “I will, sir, and I’ll do it right away.”

He looked at me with those eyes, those amazing eyes, and I was stupefied. “Well, go on son, get it done.”

I tell you, for a few moments I believed I did work for Universal. I opened my briefcase and scribbled some gibberish on a piece of paper and ran off. I looked back and he was smiling at me, with a big movie-star grin. Chris Reeve came up behind him, put his hand on his shoulder. I strode out of the stage. This had to be a good day for me: Charlton Heston said “asshole” to me. Things must be looking up.

I also found myself haunting the Bing Crosby Productions bungalow. The offices at Paramount were unlocked then, and I would roam them all, but Bing’s offices were the most fun because they had golf carts. I would take one and tool around the lot. It sure beat walking and I could easily hide from or outrun the security guards, who did their nightly rounds on bicycles.

I would drive by the Lucille Ball makeup building often and stop to explore. The building was empty except for a few offices used as storage space. Some of the offices hadn’t been touched for years. It was in one of them that I found a call sheet for a Humphrey Bogart film. I also found an office on the top floor that had a beautiful view of the courtyard. Hm, I thought, this could be a great office for me to work from.

But it was empty, and what is an office without furniture?

One evening I took my golf cart over to the prop department, and found a young prop assistant putting the finishing touches on a wagon for Little House on the Prairie. I had already filled out a phony requisitions form from the Happy Days set, asking for a desk, a few chairs, and other office supplies.

“What is this stuff for?” the prop master asked.

“We’re putting in a desk for a new set, Mrs. Cunningham is opening a dress shop.” Dress shop? I thought. Couldn’t I come up with anything better than that?

He looked at me. “And who are you?”

“Set Design.”

“Why do you have a Crosby golf cart?”

“Hey, pal, if this is a problem I’ll have Garry Marshall’s office call down, I’m late as it is.” It seems that everything in the film and television business is always running late, and people understand this.

He groaned and pulled a beautiful desk, chairs, lamps, and even an ottoman out and said, “I’m closing up. Okay if I leave it here and you transport them yourself?”

I loaded up my furnishings and lugged them up the three flights of stairs to what would be my office. I sat behind my desk, opened my Dad’s briefcase, and took out my Variety and Hollywood Reporter. I imagined myself making deals, sitting in story conferences, and even writing scripts in there. It reminded me of Bill Holden’s office in Sunset Boulevard. I imagined myself getting phone calls, and …

Wait a minute! I thought. I had no phone!

The water stage was a stone’s throw away. My father has a degree in electrical engineering and had taught me a thing or two about wiring, so I spliced the telephone wire leading to the stage phone and strung a line up the side of the building to my office. The next day I waited until the young prop man was closing again and asked him for a phone. No requisitions form needed this time, he knew me.

Back at the office I hooked up the phone and it worked! To the operators it seemed as if I was calling from the stage, which was fine for me. They even got to know my voice and I got on a first-name basis with them. They were sweet, as many of the bolts in the show-business machine tend to be.

Two months in Hollywood and I had my own office, with a phone. I had my feet on the desk, and was requesting an outside line like a pro. I know it sounds a bit rascally, but that’s what show business is made of. Guys like me finding cracks in the wall when the doors are shut. Hollywood legend has it that David Geffen would steam open envelopes in the William Morris mail room, and Steven Spielberg had his own office (on the sly) at Universal when he was starting out. The business is full of these stories.

Michael would encourage me to keep going. “You have to live this business twenty-four hours a day. Eat, sleep, and dream it if you want to make it.” And I did. But August was coming up quickly, and with it my deadline to be out of California and up at Albany State.

 

Copyright © 2012 by Steve Guttenberg

Read More Show Less

Customer Reviews

Average Rating 3
( 2 )
Rating Distribution

5 Star

(1)

4 Star

(0)

3 Star

(0)

2 Star

(0)

1 Star

(1)

Your Rating:

Your Name: Create a Pen Name or

Barnes & Noble.com Review Rules

Our reader reviews allow you to share your comments on titles you liked, or didn't, with others. By submitting an online review, you are representing to Barnes & Noble.com that all information contained in your review is original and accurate in all respects, and that the submission of such content by you and the posting of such content by Barnes & Noble.com does not and will not violate the rights of any third party. Please follow the rules below to help ensure that your review can be posted.

Reviews by Our Customers Under the Age of 13

We highly value and respect everyone's opinion concerning the titles we offer. However, we cannot allow persons under the age of 13 to have accounts at BN.com or to post customer reviews. Please see our Terms of Use for more details.

What to exclude from your review:

Please do not write about reviews, commentary, or information posted on the product page. If you see any errors in the information on the product page, please send us an email.

Reviews should not contain any of the following:

  • - HTML tags, profanity, obscenities, vulgarities, or comments that defame anyone
  • - Time-sensitive information such as tour dates, signings, lectures, etc.
  • - Single-word reviews. Other people will read your review to discover why you liked or didn't like the title. Be descriptive.
  • - Comments focusing on the author or that may ruin the ending for others
  • - Phone numbers, addresses, URLs
  • - Pricing and availability information or alternative ordering information
  • - Advertisements or commercial solicitation

Reminder:

  • - By submitting a review, you grant to Barnes & Noble.com and its sublicensees the royalty-free, perpetual, irrevocable right and license to use the review in accordance with the Barnes & Noble.com Terms of Use.
  • - Barnes & Noble.com reserves the right not to post any review -- particularly those that do not follow the terms and conditions of these Rules. Barnes & Noble.com also reserves the right to remove any review at any time without notice.
  • - See Terms of Use for other conditions and disclaimers.
Search for Products You'd Like to Recommend

Recommend other products that relate to your review. Just search for them below and share!

Create a Pen Name

Your Pen Name is your unique identity on BN.com. It will appear on the reviews you write and other website activities. Your Pen Name cannot be edited, changed or deleted once submitted.

 
Your Pen Name can be any combination of alphanumeric characters (plus - and _), and must be at least two characters long.

Continue Anonymously
Sort by: Showing all of 2 Customer Reviews
  • Anonymous

    Posted May 27, 2012

    I, I, I, I.....

    Typical Hollywood actor. While the initial story of how he snuck into a Hollywood movie studio every day for a year before getting his big break is mildly funny, be prepared to read nothing else of interest. I wish my Nook could count the number of times the words "I" and "me" are used in this 1st of 3 installments Guttenberg plans to write. He bores the reader with typical stories of actors....drugs, dwi's, discrete sex with married women, partying in excess, & on & on, etc. He never has on bad word to say about any coworker. He is always so thankful for makeup, wardrobe, AD's. He is sssoooo thrilled to work with acting legends. Of course his family is his rock to which he returns for a few days a year so he can feel good.
    Don't waste ur time n $$ on this rag. He obviously wrote this drivel in the hopes of getting back into the public eye because in his book he admits to having an enormous ego monster to feed.

    1 out of 3 people found this review helpful.

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Anonymous

    Posted June 19, 2012

    Guarantee

    You’re reading this. It’s probably safe to assume you like Steve Guttenberg. If so, I can guarantee you’ll love his book. Never fear having to skim through boring chapters about ancestors or the author’s first bicycle. No! The SG story begins with his first trip to Hollywood and firmly follows his adventures in becoming, well, the very famous Steve Guttenberg. The ludicrous plot reads curiously like a Steve Guttenberg Hollywood movie. Plenty of humorous anecdotes and name dropping ensues. Stuff like (spoiler alert) when Hume Cronyn decks Clint Howard. The narrator is pretty well the person you imagine Steve Guttenberg to be. Hey! I love that guy!

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
Sort by: Showing all of 2 Customer Reviews

If you find inappropriate content, please report it to Barnes & Noble
Why is this product inappropriate?
Comments (optional)