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A review by ponch22
Silver Screen Fiend: Learning About Life from an Addiction to Film by Patton Oswalt
4.0
Not your garden variety celeb tell-all memoir about addiction, [a:Patton Oswalt|2824524|Patton Oswalt|https://d.gr-assets.com/authors/1275241247p2/2824524.jpg]'s [b:Silver Screen Fiend|17571109|Silver Screen Fiend Learning About Life from an Addiction to Film|Patton Oswalt|https://d.gr-assets.com/books/1418103988s/17571109.jpg|24510722] tells about his crippling addiction to film.
As an ex-sprocket fiend myself, I loved reading about someone who considered seeing five films in a day normal. Oswalt's second memoir (haven't read his first, [b:Zombie Spaceship Wasteland|7841659|Zombie Spaceship Wasteland|Patton Oswalt|https://d.gr-assets.com/books/1286204437s/7841659.jpg|10935127]) uses a structure of several Night Café moments—instances of revelation; figurative (and literal) rooms one enters and leave a changed man.
From seeing Nosferatu (1922) at five years old in a library run by idiots, to making one comedian laugh during his first abysmal five-minute set at a comedy club, to bombing in a room full of comics and wanting to be an artist, to visiting the New Beverly Cinema and wanting to be a director!
The book is a quick read but don't expect a lot of jokes—this isn't your garden variety comedian's memoir either. There are a lot of references to both cult films and classics (I'm gonna try to cue up a specific scene from Apollo 13) with some tame looks behind the curtain that is Hollywood/TV (stories from the set of Down Periscope or the pilot taping of The King of Queens) but nothing too shocking (one chapter is written about a comedian I'd like to see more of—his style sounds intriguing—but the chapter uses a pseudonym because he kinda comes across as "Misguided" (p. 146).)
The novel did make me miss the years where I saw over 200 films in theaters (not counting movies on TV or DVD) which is probably the exact opposite feeling Oswalt would want to create in his readers. His fifth Night Café was the birth of his daughter. No longer does he want to waste time in "flickering movie temple[s]" when "the wide-angle world" (p. 185) has so much more, but I suppose I haven't completely squashed that sprocket fiend demon living in my head...
Thirty-four pages (over 15% of the book!) are dedicated to listing every film he watched over the main 4 years he wrote about. I skimmed these pages looking for a few notes written in certain sections, but seriously, what a waste of ink. Another 12 pages in the one epilogue are dedicated to a fictional, beyond-the-grave film festival he created for a friend who passed away in 2007. It was fun to read about these films that never were and imagine what could have been and the section reminded me about how awesome [b:Flicker|243162|Flicker|Theodore Roszak|https://d.gr-assets.com/books/1386923638s/243162.jpg|235581] was.
Overall, it was a decent read but felt like it was quickly put together with a lot of filler to make a certain page or word count...
As an ex-sprocket fiend myself, I loved reading about someone who considered seeing five films in a day normal. Oswalt's second memoir (haven't read his first, [b:Zombie Spaceship Wasteland|7841659|Zombie Spaceship Wasteland|Patton Oswalt|https://d.gr-assets.com/books/1286204437s/7841659.jpg|10935127]) uses a structure of several Night Café moments—instances of revelation; figurative (and literal) rooms one enters and leave a changed man.
From seeing Nosferatu (1922) at five years old in a library run by idiots, to making one comedian laugh during his first abysmal five-minute set at a comedy club, to bombing in a room full of comics and wanting to be an artist, to visiting the New Beverly Cinema and wanting to be a director!
The book is a quick read but don't expect a lot of jokes—this isn't your garden variety comedian's memoir either. There are a lot of references to both cult films and classics (I'm gonna try to cue up a specific scene from Apollo 13) with some tame looks behind the curtain that is Hollywood/TV (stories from the set of Down Periscope or the pilot taping of The King of Queens) but nothing too shocking (one chapter is written about a comedian I'd like to see more of—his style sounds intriguing—but the chapter uses a pseudonym because he kinda comes across as "Misguided" (p. 146).)
The novel did make me miss the years where I saw over 200 films in theaters (not counting movies on TV or DVD) which is probably the exact opposite feeling Oswalt would want to create in his readers. His fifth Night Café was the birth of his daughter. No longer does he want to waste time in "flickering movie temple[s]" when "the wide-angle world" (p. 185) has so much more, but I suppose I haven't completely squashed that sprocket fiend demon living in my head...
Thirty-four pages (over 15% of the book!) are dedicated to listing every film he watched over the main 4 years he wrote about. I skimmed these pages looking for a few notes written in certain sections, but seriously, what a waste of ink. Another 12 pages in the one epilogue are dedicated to a fictional, beyond-the-grave film festival he created for a friend who passed away in 2007. It was fun to read about these films that never were and imagine what could have been and the section reminded me about how awesome [b:Flicker|243162|Flicker|Theodore Roszak|https://d.gr-assets.com/books/1386923638s/243162.jpg|235581] was.
Overall, it was a decent read but felt like it was quickly put together with a lot of filler to make a certain page or word count...