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A review by blairlovesbooks
Watch Me by Anjelica Huston
2.0
There is a certain type of person historians love, the type who meticulously recounts their lives in minute detail, leaving out all trace of speculation. These people are very useful for history, for by recounting your breakfast, you are recounting what food was available to you at a place in time and how you ate it.
Having read many of these missives in college, I can unequivocally say that Ms. Huston’s memoir falls neatly into that category. Her endless, bloodless recountings of Hollywood parties and vacations will one day no doubt thrill 20th century historians, but it made for an incredibly dull reading experience.
On top of that, it’s clear Huston got to where she is just about entirely on the backs of her famous father and various paramours. She seems to have no particular affinity for performing, and goes into more detail describing pointless Mexican vacations than films that shaped her career and made her an icon. I used to love her, but now all I can see is a deeply boring nepo baby.
Having read many of these missives in college, I can unequivocally say that Ms. Huston’s memoir falls neatly into that category. Her endless, bloodless recountings of Hollywood parties and vacations will one day no doubt thrill 20th century historians, but it made for an incredibly dull reading experience.
On top of that, it’s clear Huston got to where she is just about entirely on the backs of her famous father and various paramours. She seems to have no particular affinity for performing, and goes into more detail describing pointless Mexican vacations than films that shaped her career and made her an icon. I used to love her, but now all I can see is a deeply boring nepo baby.