‘NEVER LOVE A STRANGER’ BY HAROLD ROBBINS

If you ever want to experience Harold Robbins the writer—and not the redundant storyteller he later became—start with his debut novel NEVER LOVE A STRANGER. This one’s a sure bet. His best even. Some may argue otherwise, preferring THE CARPETBAGGERS or A STONE FOR DANNY FISHER, but I still believe he gave all he’s got for NEVER LOVE A STRANGER. Mind you, he did hit home runs with his early subsequent novels but in my heart of hearts nothing can beat this reviewed title. Whether it’s in his strong narrative, likable protagonist, fine storytelling, or sexual situations—which, BTW, is a lot tamer on account of the novel being published in 1948—there is something important going on in between those pages, and I’m not talking about Robbins’ fresh gutter mind. No, what I’m getting at is that Robbins is actually a talented bloke if you scratch beneath surface, and in insight NEVER LOVE A STRANGER is the perfect example of that.

The plot, told mostly in first-person flashbacks in a span of over twenty years, is all about Frankie Kane who, we come to learn early on, is an orphan who knows his way around. He’s what you call street smart, a thing I always wish I could have been, but this isn’t about moi so let’s just move on. After numerous dangerous situations that would be too long for me to describe Kane eventually becomes one of the biggest mobsters of his time—but at what price? From rotten deals to violent confrontations of all sorts, Kane manages to find himself and eventually becomes the person he’s meant to be. Nothing new, I admit, but handled with care, and, dare I say it, class. Yes, Robbins takes out his Sunday clothes for this one, delivering a riveting tale of a hoodlum whose ups and downs make for a fine character study. And of course, this character deserves everything that comes to him because, as you all know, without his despair there wouldn’t be a novel such as this one. In return, the reader can’t help getting caught up into the swirl of things and before he knows it the end is near and a few chapters more would have been more than welcome. Yes, this is the kind of a novel NEVER LOVE A STRANGER is.  

Mind you, one has to be ready for Robbins’ wicked ways. His world is far from being apple pie. Every female character is used as an excuse to heighten the importance of the male counterpart—when she is not caught solely in the sheets. And of course those women are always fully stacked. I’m sure the Me Too movement would have had a field day with these publications had it ever existed back in the day. But if you’re ready to overlook this tiny little flaw (if you can call using women a tiny little flaw), then I’m positive you’ll find this novel as compelling as anything Robbins has ever written. 

There’s a 1958 B&W movie adaptation starring John Drew Barrymore (son of stage and screen legend John Barrymore and Drew’s dad) and Steve McQueen (in his first film). I own it on VHS. I shall review it one of these days. Until then, I’d suggest that you get busy with NEVER LOVE A STRANGER. If you’re like me, you’ll find the rewards worth your while. At least I hope you will.

You can still get NEVER LOVE A STRANGER wherever digital books are sold.

Until next post—Martin  

79 PARK AVENUE: THE MINISERIES (1977)

Lesley Ann Warren is quite good in the TV adaptation of Harold Robbins’ 79 PARK AVENUE. In fact, she’s more than good.  She’s astounding; probably why she won a Golden Globe for her role in 1978. A rare thing really when you stop to consider the many actresses who have landed parts in these cheesy miniseries throughout the years. However 79 PARK AVENUE is more than just cheese. It’s actually a riveting tale of good girl gone bad amidst the Great Depression and beyond. It aired on NBC as a three part event in 1977. I was a tad too young to ever catch it back then but I remember hearing about it later on. It was supposed to be very daring for its time. Obviously I had to get a hold of it. It took me quite a while to finally see what all the fuss was about, like 40 years or so, and indeed, the stuff is daring for network television but let me assure you right away that it is all handled with the utmost care. In fact, I can declare 79 PARK AVENUE to be one the classiest miniseries ever to be produced. 

The story is quite fetching: Warren plays Marja, a poor but beautiful girl from Brooklyn who has the worst of luck in men.  Not only is she attracted to bad rich boy hunky Mark Singer who humiliates her one time in front of his parents but she also has to deal with her lecherous stepdad whom she stabs after raping her one drunken night. Choosing to keep quiet to spare her bed-ridden mom she ends up in the juvies for a few months. When she finally gets out, broke and stuck with a mother at a hospital, she rekindles with Singer as tough call girl Marianne to pay the bills. With no judgment on his part (he loves her, people) he offers her marriage as a way out and she accepts but swears that she will never love him. She holds her end of the bargain throughout the birth of a child (not his but more on that later) and right before he gets shot by the mob. Widowed, she is forced to take over the business of 79 PARK AVENUE, the call girl ring disguised as a model agency where she used to work. 

Soon more trouble ensues in the form of a district attorney team who want to frame her ass, and they do when her place of business is raided right after she kills Singer’s despicable and mob-friendly dad in self-defence. Cross-examined in court, we hear her sad tale of a sordid life as well as of the real identity of her daughter’s father who turns out to be prosecutor and ex-lover David Dukes (who’s very present throughout the miniseries). It is only when he states that she is incapable of committing first degree murder—being put on the witness stand and all—that Warren is finally found, to our happy relief, not guilty. Convicted anyway on vice charges (shoot!), she tearfully hands him their child. Along a catchy score composed by Nelson Riddle (FUNNY GIRL, 1974 THE GREAT GATBSY) he tells her that he’ll wait for her while she’s behind bars, and we the spectators ball our eyes out as the end credits roll.  

Rare is a miniseries as riveting as this one and for all the good reasons. Top notched actors, story, direction… They really went all out, and I’m more than thrilled. I don’t understand why it’s never been available on DVD or Blu-ray. Probably a copyright thing. Thank heaven I finally was able to catch it anyway. Just goes to show you that even sleazy novels such as this one can impress on-screen when put in the right hands (and that would be Paul Wendkos in this case who later on directed the spectacular CELEBRITY miniseries in 1984). Together with both screen adaptations of THE CARPETBAGGERS and WHERE LOVE HAS GONE, 79 PARK AVENUE is a definite Robbins must-see.

Until next post—Martin

‘WHERE LOVE HAS GONE’ BY HAROLD ROBBINS

We all know by now that post ‘70s Harold Robbins’ novels give you nothing more than explicit sex in between melodramas. Not that there’s anything wrong with that if you’re into that sort of a thing. I know I am. But the best Robbins in my opinion come from his early career starting with NEVER LOVE A STRANGER which was turned into a less-than-stellar film starring John Drew Barrymore and a young Steve McQueen. His best of the best are hands down 1964 THE CARPETBAGGERS (also turned into a movie and a box-office champ) and this gem of a novel which I chose to discuss called WHERE LOVE HAS GONE (Pocket Books, 1963). Why that one? It’s the first Robbins novel that I truly connected with.

Based unofficially on the then-Lana Turner/Johnny Stompanato trial (Google it) that involved a knife and the daughter of the late movie star, this sordid tale follows the same paint-by-the-number murder case, but goes one step further by including the omitted denouement thought by all regarding the real-life scenario (again Google it). Protagonist Luke Lurey is the ex-husband caught in the middle, whose ever-present guidance helps put the pieces back together. And what a bunch of wicked pieces they end up being. Just like any scandal sheet type magazine of the time, WHERE LOVE HAS GONE is pulp fiction at its best. With its addictive plot and narratively swinging point of views, this "fictional" delivery by the man who once has been hailed as a master storyteller is one interesting read that surely will please fans of soap operas, and that, despite the toned-down sex scenes.

I have to say that next to THE LONELY LADY, WHERE LOVE HAS GONE is my fave Robbins novel. There is everything in that one: love, murder, sex, and the many sinful doings of a delinquent teen. And Robbins’ turn of phrases doesn’t suck either. It’s a little more polished than what we came to know later on. Of course if you’re looking for Proust you’ve come to the wrong novel or blog for that matter. There is a film adaptation starring Susan Hayworth and Bette Davis that will definitely be featured on this blog. Just give me time to re-re-watch it and I promise to add my two cents. In the meantime grab yourself a copy of WHERE LOVE HAS GONE and dig into the sleaziness of it all.

Until next post—Martin

 

Movie tie-in

‘GOODBYE, JANETTE’ BY HAROLD ROBBINS

 

I wish I could say that Harold Robbins had a glorious career. But the truth of the matter is, by the late ‘70s, the author had become a shadow of himself. Partying took a toll on his writing and his work suffered. So it came as no surprise that by the time GOODBYE JANETTE (1981, Pocket) was released my appreciation of him had started to dwindle. However I got to admit that this novel was some sort of a turnabout for him. Gone are those male-dominated central characters filling his pages. Just like in 1976 THE LONELY LADY (Robbins at his sleazy best) the focus this time is on a heroine; well, four of them since it’s a multi-generational piece. The setting: the haute couture world—not very macho for a Robbins book. His unfavorable view of women, however, is still an ongoing thing.  

 

Indeed, every female in this book is the scapegoat of his wicked pen.  Including the title character who, still a pre-teen, gets used and abused and loves it (!). The culprit is a closeted homosexual (of course he is) who has the biggest peen (of course he does) and has misogynistic tendencies (gasp, double gasp—not). The apparels chosen for her (and his other conquests) could easily rival those of Christian Grey but not his technique. He’s more the sadistic kind. Just like its author, it seems, who clearly gets off making his readership his bitch. 

 

Another thing that is technically omitted from GOODBYE JANETTE is the author’s first-person POV, which is more than fine with me since I’ve never been too keen on this trademark of his. The novel is cut into four parts, spawning over many years and continents. When the story diverges from smut and focuses solely on the business side of fashion GOODBYE JANETTE is a fine read. You can even tell that Robbins has some knowledge on the subject. But these feel-good moments are pretty scarce. Of course, everyone is one-dimensional, and though you feel as if you should at least connect with some character, however big or small, you don’t. Instead you just go with the flow of bad writing and silly situations while shaking your head in dismay.

 

GOODBYE JANETTE was Robbins’ last hit before being stricken with a heart attack and confined to a wheelchair. He did manage to write other novels until he passed away in 1997.  Junius Podrog took over posthumously in the early 2000s. Though his books are supposedly well-tailored I doubt I will get to them. My reading choices have evolved somewhat since then. But if in doing so he has succeeded in putting Robbins name back in lights, more power to him I say. Robbins certainly deserves at least that.

  

Until next post—Martin

 

 

 

'THE LONELY LADY' BY HAROLD ROBBINS

It’s about time that I start babbling about the king of sleaze Harold Robbins.  I spent my youth reading this guy.  And of all his trashy novels, I think THE LONELY LADY is by far my favorite.   I got around to it after catching the cheesy film adaptation starring the ever-lovable Pia Zadora.  If you have yet to see her in this, I urge you to do so.  It’s a freaking experience you’re likely never to forget.  I’m still hoping for the DVD edition.   And I wouldn’t mind feasting on some supplements as well.   But back to the book.    I cannot express enough how much joy this novel has brought me over the years, but especially when I got a hold of it around 1983.  It was during a low period in my life and I needed all the escape I could get, and in came this novel about a woman’s rise and fall in Hollywood and suffice to say I couldn’t get enough of it.   

 

If you're used to Robbins’ over-the-top romps you'll notice that THE LONELY LADY is the first time the author opts for a woman as a central character.  There are many guys in this as well, too many even, but they all have supporting roles.  Of course, the author has to make them act horrible toward Jerilee.  That’s the rule of his game.  And true to form she even ends up being one big hoe.  From stripping in seedy clubs to experiencing many Hollywood casting couches, Jerilee Randall is used, abused, and, alas, condemned to a life of suffering.   But the thing that makes her her is the way she is able to rise above.  She may be woman but boy does she roar.  And like many other Harold Robbins offerings, her sound is quite addictive; probably more so on account that she is a likable character despite her too aggressive manner, and probably also because the book reads like a fun B-grade vintage paperback of the late ‘60s. The plot goes back and forth in time, but the present time is the strongest. There you'll find the sleazy side of Hollywood where Jerilee throws herself in without a parachute.  

 

Like the film, THE LONELY LADY may not be appreciated by all.  It’s even hard to digest sometimes. But taken with a grain of salt, it is a fine example of addictive fiction.  Now, if only Robbins had followed this with more female-dominated characters, perhaps his star would have continued to shine instead of losing some luster as the years went by.  Oh, there have been other noteworthy titles following THE LONELY LADY such as GOODBYE JANETTE but the many male-dominated efforts that came in-between were mostly underwhelming, in my opinion.  I have yet to really get into his posthumous work. I did hear that they are quite stimulating, especially those written by Junius Podrog.  If they are anything like THE LONELY LADY, perhaps I should make a detour and invest my time in them. 

 

 

Until next post—Martin



1983 pb tie-in



MIXED BAG: COLLINS, ROBBINS, SHELDON/BAGSHAWE

OK, I’ve decided to do something a little different this time around, to kick start what I think could be a real doozie if everything goes as plan. Since I don’t always review novels and films like I should, I figured why not ramble on anything connected with sleaze in between real reviews. Cool idea, huh? Soooooo… let’s start this shingding by talking about Jackie Collins.

 

Yes, the queen of sleaze is putting the finishing touches to her latest, CONFESSIONS OF A WILD CHILD (Simon & SchusterUK). If you think this one is all about Lucky Santangelo, then you’ve guessed right. The novel focuses on her earlier years, which means every important characters should make an appearance, including devilish Olympia Stanislopoplous whom I LOVED in CHANCES. The book is already set for pre-sale in the UK until its September release. No words on when the US/Canada version will hit the stands and e-readers. But based on her earlier outings, it should not be that far in between. Meanwhile, check out her sizzling short story THE ROCK STAR AND THE LIFEGUARD (originally written for Rolling Stone magazine) wherever e-books are sold.

The Mass market paperback edition of Harold Robbins THE CURSE (Forge Books) written by Junius Podrug is set for a New Year’s eve 2013 release. I must admit  that I’m way behind on my Robbins/Podrug reading, but like any former novels of theirs, this latest looks mighty tasty. All about art, fake artifacts and sex—of course. Meanwhile, if you own an e-reader, you can download most of Robbins’s back list, including his posthumous ones. Again, just visit any e-book stores for more info.

Speaking of dead authors, Sidney Sheldon also got a book out in print (hardback) and in digital by HarperCollins Publishers. It’s called THE TIDES OF MEMORY and like his former last outings, it is also written by best-selling author Tilly Bagshawe of FAME fame. Here’s the novel description:

The members of the formidable and captivating De Vere family of London live enviable lives in the world’s most powerful and desirable places, from London’s poshest neighborhoods to influential boardrooms. But when old secrets begin to unravel and threaten everything the De Veres have worked for, the ramifications are deadly.

What can I say. I’m sold already. Though I have to admit that her/his second to last novel, AFTER THE DARKNESS, didn’t do the trick for me. Too many “you've got to be kidding me” situations. But let’s hope this one delivers the goods.

 

what I'm reading:

Until next post--Martin

PIA ZADORA AND 'THE LONELY LADY'

  

I can’t go on doing this blog without giving a well-deserved shout-out to the legendary Miss Pia Zadora for keeping onscreen smut alive and well. For decades, she’s been known for acting in the worst—but highly enjoyable—movies ever made; movies such as BUTTERFLY, FAKE-OUT, VOYAGE OF THE ROCK ALIENS, and my personal favorite THE LONELY LADY. I just can’t get enough of this 1983 Peter Sasdy film. Watching it is to me one of the great joys in life, and I’m not kidding. Nothing in it bores me. I am literally glued to the screen every time I pop the DVD disc (from a VHS source, since the film as yet to be released onto DVD) into my player.

Why, you may ask? Why put myself through this grade-Z Hollywood fiasco over and over again? For the simple fact that THE LONELY LADY is an enjoyable mess. Everything in it is so wrong that it’s right, from the syrupy soundtrack to the over the top acting, to the guffaw-induced storyline, not to mention the very stilted dialogue exchange. Not a moment is spared in non-delivering the high camp goods. But my love for this gem even goes further than that. Beyond the evident mishaps (and they are many) exists a real tour de force of a film. Perhaps not from Zadora herself, bless her little heart, though she tries her best—maybe too much—to bring life into her role. But from the way the film is handled. THE LONELY LADY is almost an homage to the early exploitation films of the '30s and '40s (Barbara Stanwyck’s BABY FACE comes to mind), as well as sexploitation flicks of the mid '70s (NASHVILLE GIRL starring Monica Gayle is one). Director Peter Sasdy makes sure that everything bathes in sleaze, as it should be, since the film is based on a novel by Harold Robbins, the master of sleaze himself. And it’s probably the reason why the film got panned the way it did when first released; its adaptation to the screen is too much like a '70s vintage Robbins: lots of tawdry, degrading sex and little else; a premise not too popular for the high-gloss seeking audience of the '80s.
　

Filmed in Italy, London and Hollywood, Universal Pictures (in association with Harold Robbins productions) did break the bank in producing what I’m sure they thought would be another slick soap opera movie à la THE CARPETBAGGERS, THE BETSY, heck even à la THE ADVENTURERS for that matter—all big budgeted films based on Robbins novels. But something must have happened along the way for THE LONELY LADY to nosedive the way it did. Because indeed, compared to those films, THE LONELY LADY is far from looking and acting its best; though, like I said, the exploitation/sexploitation factor to it does bring it to another level. Moreover, scenes of such unintentional laughter—like the Pia’s climactic fit, for example—does place it as must-see campy moments. And to tell you the truth, had it not been as cheesy-looking and as affectionately bad, perhaps this blog would have never focused on it in the first place. So suffice to say, THE LONELY LADY is exactly as it should be.



　
We now must talk about Miss Zadora’s role in the film. In it, she plays a would-be screenwriter who wants to make it in Hollywood no matter what; a part that strangely resembles Pia’s then real life. Both women were married to rich guys, both had husbands who helped them get ahead in the business, both watched their careers hit a wall after some form of success. Pia went on to make the low-budget but not that well-received VOYAGE OF THE ROCK ALIENS, then had a little upswing with her singing career to finally disappear in whatever-happened-to-her heaven. Although she’s sort of making a comeback nowadays belting out her old tunes all around Vegas. As for Peter Sasdy, the director, after the fiasco that LONELY LADY was, he concentrated his next move on syndicated TV in the '80s and '90s, before disappearing completely from the face of the earth. On a side note, if you guys are still interested in experiencing his vision in films, take a look at his I DON'T WANT TO BE BORN (1975), starring none other than Joan Collins herself. This one has to be seen to be believed as well.

　

Now that I got this movie and its adorable star off my chest, I can finally rest in peace and say that I plan on writing more about those types of films. Trust me, they need all the spotlight they can get.

 

 

 

　
Until next post—Martin