Books like Women, Method Acting, and the Hollywood Film — picked by fans

When I first read this book over twenty years ago, I thought, finally, someone who sees what I see in classic Hollywood films—dynamic and exciting women. She traces American women onscreen: from the flappers of the 1920s (It girl Clara Bow) to the European goddesses Greta Garbo and Marlene Dietrich to the sultry Mae West in the 1930s, to the fast-talking Dames Barbara Stanwyck, Katharine Hepburn, Carole Lombard, and to Marilyn Monroe and her postwar millionaire-seeking pals.

Her multi-decade analysis contemplates what changed in the 1970s-80s; as American women earned greater equity in real life, their onscreen representation paled compared to their pre-WWII sisters. A quarter into the twenty-first century, female star-driven Hollywood films remain an anomaly. Read this book to find out why it was the inverse more than ninety years ago.

When I read this book, I was relieved—at long last, a book that underscored the behind-the-scenes contributions of working women in the 1930s and 1940s. J.E. Smyth’s fascinating study brings to light new dimensions to screen legends Bette Davis, Katharine Hepburn, and fashion designer Edith Head, but also women less known to the greater public—the intrepid editors like Barbara McLean and Margaret Booth, three-time Screenwriter Guild president Mary J. McCall, and producers like Joan Harrison and Virginia Van Upp.

I like how this book provides a counter-history to the male-dominated narratives of Hollywood. Smyth shows that women found other ways outside of directing to leave their mark on Hollywood in the twentieth century.

In my teen years, I was a voracious reader of star biographies. I still love them, and the late Cari Beauchamp’s book is a page-turning, spellbinding biography that details the life of pioneering screenwriter Frances Marion, the highest-paid screenwriter in Hollywood for nearly three decades. 

Beauchamp also introduces readers to the early Hollywood sisterhood network that furnished Marion and other powerful women in American film at the time (Mary Pickford, Adela Rogers St. John, Hedda Hopper). I recommend this book as a historical backdrop for understanding the current gender parity issues plaguing Hollywood.

I love this book’s blend of author self-reflection and fandom of the late great Bette Davis’s star persona and career alongside her civil rights advocacy and onscreen acting with African American actors in the 1930s and 1940s. Julia Stern contextualizes Hollywood’s troubling representation of African Americans onscreen that often accompanied Davis’ own proto-feminist iconic performances in films like Jezebel, The Little Foxes, and What Ever Happened to Baby Jane.

At the same time, she devotes analysis to the forgotten but riveting anti-racist film, This Our Life, directed by John Huston. With powerful performances from Black actors Hattie McDaniel and Ernest Anderson that stand apart in the Davis oeuvre, Stern effectively brings a twenty-first-century understanding of this Classic Hollywood legend. Be sure to read her footnotes—they are equally fascinating!

This book is a tour-de-force—a beautifully written story about Marian Graves, an Amelia Earhart-type adventurer during the prohibition era, and Hadley Baxter, the actress set to play her in a movie more than half a century later.

I really enjoyed how the two stories are in conversation with each other; both women determined to chart their own courses in very different eras and what they learn about themselves in the process. I was also struck by the intense obligation the actress feels to get this character right and the personal toll it takes as she discovers how similar their emotional lives may have been.

This book provided a true escape just when I needed it most, and I could have kept reading long after I turned the final page.

He is a fictionalized account of the comedian Stan Laurel's life. Being a massive fan of Laurel & Hardy, whose films remain irrepressibly funny to this day, and having read several factual books about Stan and his sidekick, it was a no-brainer to pick this up and I thoroughly enjoyed it. Whilst at times it feels like a ‘tick box’ situation regarding some of the events that an aficionado of Laurel would expect to be covered, at other times it provides an acute insight into the man behind the films. The similarity of the process on show here is so close to Blonde that a comparison is inevitable, and whilst he doesn’t provide the same emotional impact and is quite clinical in the telling, it nevertheless remains an important work in its own right and therefore is highly recommended.

LaSalle’s book made me fall in love with Pre-Code Hollywood despite having been in film and media studies for 20 years.

His in-depth study of many famous actresses during this era such as Greta Garbo, Norma Shearer, and Jean Harlow, shows how freer women could be on screen for their life choices. 

The later chapters address the lasting impact of the Code era on the representation of women and their agency, even on contemporary movies. As he discusses it, the Code caused the decline of “socially responsive women’s pictures.”

Though her style has always struck me as danger-close to tabloid and disjointed, nobody ever said those traits couldn't result in coffee-through-nostrils hilarity and knockout via punchline.

Fisher's particular brand of sex, drugs, and rock-n-roll certainly didn't help with her bipolar management. All the same, her unhinged lifestyle did deliver a bevy of dramatic and somewhat instructive anecdotes.  

She captures the chaos with such wit and bite in Postcards from the Edge and Shockaholic, but if you have to choose just one book, go with Wishful Drinking.

Katherine Center has been a favourite of mine since I read What You Wish For. Her writing is gorgeous, with a great rhythm and use of language. It’s also emotionally intelligent and infuses what can be the harsh realities of life with deep hope.

So, I was delighted to see she’d written about a theme I love so much, and I wasn’t disappointed! 

Although I knew of Hattie McDaniel’s groundbreaking achievement as the first African American woman to win an Academy Award for her iconic role as Mammy in Gone with the Wind, I knew little about Hattie’s life before, during, and after the film’s release. 

Through this book, I learned why McDaniel's victory marked such a pivotal moment in the history of cinema. More importantly, I appreciated how Tate moved beyond that singular moment to unveil the deeper layers of McDaniel's life, painting a vivid portrait of her struggles, triumphs, and the indelible mark she left on the entertainment industry, including the challenges she faced in a racially segregated Hollywood.

I applaud Tate for transforming Hattie McDaniel from a recognizable name into a three-dimensional, inspiring figure.