Rating: 
Summary: "A MAN WHO THINKS HE KNOWS THE MIND OF WOMEN KNOWS NOTHING."
Review: Read the book. Watch the documentary. But above all listen to the audio book on tape. Bob Evans' voice is magic. A few years ago he did ads for the NFL, talking about how "Broadway Joe" Namath popularized the league by beating Baltimore in Super Bowl III. It was one of the best commercials ever. When Evans speaks, there is a richness and storytelling quality to his voice that cannot be taught. It is a combination of God-given talent and years of stories so wild, so crazy that no matter how outrageous they are, one still feels Evans is holding back because the real truth is just beyond the pale.Evans' life is beyond comprehension. Luck above and beyond all belief, combined with talent and drive. The son of a Jewish New York dentist, Evans was a film buff and teenage stage actor. His older bro Charles started Evans-Piccone, the lucrative clothier, and Bob hitched along for the ride, wealthy in his early 20s and acting a part of his past. He travels to L.A. on business, and a famous actress sees him and decides he is the man to play the role of her ex-husband, Irving Thalberg, in an upcomng film, which he stars in. Back in New York, he is discovered a second time, this time by Daryl Zanuck, who sees him in a club and says he is the man to play Pedro Romero in "The Sun Also Rises". Pictures of Evans reveal that these discoveries are no accident. The dude was so handsome that words cannot do him justice. Ernie Hemingway was non-plussed by Evans, as were his famous co-stars who conspired against him to get him off the movie. Zanuck arrives, sees Evans play the bullfighter, and says "The kid stays in the picture." The story of his life. Stardom follows? Not so fast. Old footage reveals that despite his looks his acting talent was, in Evans' words,
"half-assed." So now what? Evans decides to become a producer. He buys rights to a book to film with Frank Sinatra in the lead and a promising producing career lies ahead. In 1966-67, he is hired to take over the failing Paramount. This is portrayed as an accident, luck, a fluke, but Evans does not give himself credit. He had brains, creative genius, charisma, looks and all the tools for Hollywood success, so his ascension is less remarkable than it would seem for a guy who is only about 30. It immediately becomes apparent, though, he was hired to fail. The suits in New York just want a young face to deflect criticism of them as they fold Paramount. But Evans wins them over with a short of the upcoming "Love Story" and "Rosemary's Baby". Reprieve. In the '60s, Evans produces gems. Add to the above "True Grit", "Odd Couple" and other classics. Money rolls in, but Evans does not get super rich and is always on the hot seat. He marries the beautiful Ali McGraw and has the world by the tail. "The Godfather" is given to him, and he decides Sicilian mob pictures fail because they lack Italian authenticy. "I want to smell the spaghetti," he says. Francis Ford Coppola, is the only Italian director at the time. It is tempestuous to the extreme, and when "The Prince" wins the "Patton" screenplay Oscar he cannot be fired. Evans claims he saved the film by making it longer, Coppola scoffs at the notion to this day. Two brilliant minds. Evans leaves Ali to the charms of Steve McQueen on the set of "The Getaway", and she leaves him. "A man who thinks he knows the mind of a woman knows nothing," Evans opines. His pal is Henry Kissinger, who Evans talks into coming to "The Godfather" premiere in the middle of the mining of Haiphong Harbor. Evans goes on to make "Chinatown", "Marathon Man" and most of the important films of Hoillywood's greatest era, the 1970s. He squires women who are so beautiful that it makes men drool. In the documentary, a TV host asks about it, and Evans claims to live like a monk with no life, working 24/7. As he says this a montage opf models, actresses and beauties on his arm puts the lie to this story. Evans falls into a coke habit and gets involved with shadowy people associated with the murder of a Hollywood wannabe. He loses everything, almost including his sanity and life. Near-uicide. Drug addiction. Insanity. Debt. The loss of his house. Another Hollywood casualty. But with the help of his pal Jack Nicholson, Evans comes back, gets his house back, again makes big pictures, and stays very much in play with the ladies. The kid stayed in the picture. STEVEN TRAVERS
AUTHOR OF "BARRY BONDS: BASEBALL'S SUPERMAN"
...
Rating:
Summary: His Life Is (Amazingly) More Interesting than His Work
Review: Robert Evans is a master storyteller, which means he's a perfect fit for Hollywood. The man who went from Next Big Thing as an actor (after failing spectacularly in that regard) to one of Hollywood's most powerful executives as the head of motion picture development at Paramount, Evans had a hand in some of the biggest films of the '70s, including Love Story, The Godfather, Chinatown and The Getaway. Anyone who believes the suits in Hollywood don't have an impact on the pictures they produce will have their world turned upside down by Evans's tell-all. From his power struggles with Francis Ford Coppola and his tumultuous relationship with Ali MacGraw to his close personal relationship with Henry Kissinger and his downfall due to drugs and dubious family loyalties, Evans's life is the stuff of legend. He couldn't have devised a more cinematic story if he'd been paid to, though one gets the impression he tries -- a master marketer and charismatic manipulator, the truth may never be adequately divulged despite his best efforts. However, his candid recollection of the difficult times in his life, especially the end of his marriage to MacGraw and his strained relationship with Kissinger after his notorious drug bust, are admirable. Whatever he may have done wrong, Evans manages to avoid painting himself as either a saint or a villain, instead allowing us to root for him, envy him, question him, pity him and, in the end, empathize with him. If all Hollywood lives were as interesting as the business they traffic in, everyone's autobiography would read like Robert Evans's.
Rating:
Summary: It's just so awful, it's terrific!
Review: Robert Evans is the baddest boy in Hollywood, and if there's a shred of reticence or shame in his personality, he's keeping it well-hidden. If you like celebrity dish and are not offended by the flagrant vulgarity of Evans' self-told tales, there isn't a Tinseltown story better than this one. If Evans was assigned a copy editor to work over the manuscript, he or she must have simply thrown up their hands and let him rip. This stream-of-semi-consciousness story runs away like an eighteen-wheeler with no brakes. Unlike Julia Phillips, whose memoir, "You'll Never Eat Lunch in This Town Again," spits acid in the faces in practically everyone but herself, Evans isn't particularly nasty about other people. His most unspeakable stories are told about himself, as though he can't bear to share the spotlight--not surprising, considering how tiny and unremarkable his career as an actor turned out to be. (Life most closely imitates art when Evans plays the caddish Dexter Key in the film version of Rona Jaffe's "The Best of Everything." In the book--though not in the movie, heavens, not in the '50s!--Dexter takes his bewildered small-town sweetheart to a New Jersey abortionist in a limousine. He's just that Evansy kind of guy.) Evans is unabashedly proud of his many, many lapses from grace, both professional and personal. The only tedium in "The Kid Stays in the Picture" comes from his (yawn) innumerable sexual conquests, which all sound the same after awhile. Leaf past those and focus on Evans' rise to preeminence as a producer in the film industry in the '70s, making some of its very best movies, including "Chinatown" and "The Godfather." In Dominick Dunne's novel, "An Inconvenient Woman," the coke-snorting, career-in-a-tailspin producer Casper Stieglitz is reportedly based on Evans. However, Evans didn't really have a toupee for each day of the month, with lengths ranging from just-barbered to needs-a-haircut. "I made that part up," Dunne said. But after reading "The Kid Stays in the Picture," Evans' excesses appear so legendary that one is forced to admit that Dunne's little fib might just as well have been true. Part of my weakness for this lusciously tacky book comes from the fact that the copy I own used to belong to Peter Bogdanovich. His name is rubber-stamped all over it, and the flyleaf bears Evans' lavish inscription, "Peter-- Let's make magic together!" The dealer who sold it to me said that Bogdanovich unloaded his library during one of the many times that he ran short of ready cash. Just another Hollywood story. But even in paperback, this book is a substance-free indulgence, unless you're in a twelve-step program declaring that you are powerless against the temptation to read trash. "The Kid Stays in the Picture" is a no-cal, fat-free, smokeless treat.
Rating:
Summary: It's just so awful, it's terrific!
Review: Robert Evans is the baddest boy in Hollywood, and if there's a shred of reticence or shame in his personality, he's keeping it well-hidden. If you like celebrity dish and are not offended by the flagrant vulgarity of Evans' self-told tales, there isn't a Tinseltown story better than this one. If Evans was assigned a copy editor to work over the manuscript, he or she must have simply thrown up their hands and let him rip. This stream-of-semi-consciousness story runs away like an eighteen-wheeler with no brakes. Unlike Julia Phillips, whose memoir, "You'll Never Eat Lunch in This Town Again," spits acid in the faces in practically everyone but herself, Evans isn't particularly nasty about other people. His most unspeakable stories are told about himself, as though he can't bear to share the spotlight--not surprising, considering how tiny and unremarkable his career as an actor turned out to be. (Life most closely imitates art when Evans plays the caddish Dexter Key in the film version of Rona Jaffe's "The Best of Everything." In the book--though not in the movie, heavens, not in the '50s!--Dexter takes his bewildered small-town sweetheart to a New Jersey abortionist in a limousine. He's just that Evansy kind of guy.) Evans is unabashedly proud of his many, many lapses from grace, both professional and personal. The only tedium in "The Kid Stays in the Picture" comes from his (yawn) innumerable sexual conquests, which all sound the same after awhile. Leaf past those and focus on Evans' rise to preeminence as a producer in the film industry in the '70s, making some of its very best movies, including "Chinatown" and "The Godfather." In Dominick Dunne's novel, "An Inconvenient Woman," the coke-snorting, career-in-a-tailspin producer Casper Stieglitz is reportedly based on Evans. However, Evans didn't really have a toupee for each day of the month, with lengths ranging from just-barbered to needs-a-haircut. "I made that part up," Dunne said. But after reading "The Kid Stays in the Picture," Evans' excesses appear so legendary that one is forced to admit that Dunne's little fib might just as well have been true. Part of my weakness for this lusciously tacky book comes from the fact that the copy I own used to belong to Peter Bogdanovich. His name is rubber-stamped all over it, and the flyleaf bears Evans' lavish inscription, "Peter-- Let's make magic together!" The dealer who sold it to me said that Bogdanovich unloaded his library during one of the many times that he ran short of ready cash. Just another Hollywood story. But even in paperback, this book is a substance-free indulgence, unless you're in a twelve-step program declaring that you are powerless against the temptation to read trash. "The Kid Stays in the Picture" is a no-cal, fat-free, smokeless treat.
Rating:
Summary: cousinpaco bought me this!
Review: Robert Evans is the stuff of legend. A Hollywood icon. An autobiography was a no-brainer, but an audio book of Evans narrating his autobiography -- that's just a stroke of genius.
Evans tells the stories of his many ups and downs during his tenure at Paramount Pictures, and beyond. Some of the stories are funny, some are sad, but all of them are pure Evans. Sure, he's completely self-absorbed, and you're only going to get his side of the story (the truth, right?), but it wouldn't be nearly as entertaining any other way.
His voice, while mildly terrifying, matches the mix of factual and anecdotal information. He speaks in a steady, level and clear recitation, then moves to a more rapid, conversational and enthusiastic expression. This change in tempo keeps the listener both absorbed and informed.
As far as audio books are concerned, "The Kid Stays in the Picture" is the king. Robert Evans wouldn't have it any other way.
Rating:
Summary: cousinpaco bought me this!
Review: Robert Evans is the stuff of legend. A Hollywood icon. An autobiography was a no-brainer, but an audio book of Evans narrating his autobiography -- that's just a stroke of genius.
Evans tells the stories of his many ups and downs during his tenure at Paramount Pictures, and beyond. Some of the stories are funny, some are sad, but all of them are pure Evans. Sure, he's completely self-absorbed, and you're only going to get his side of the story (the truth, right?), but it wouldn't be nearly as entertaining any other way.
His voice, while mildly terrifying, matches the mix of factual and anecdotal information. He speaks in a steady, level and clear recitation, then moves to a more rapid, conversational and enthusiastic expression. This change in tempo keeps the listener both absorbed and informed.
As far as audio books are concerned, "The Kid Stays in the Picture" is the king. Robert Evans wouldn't have it any other way.
Rating: 
Summary: The audiobook is awful
Review: The guy has a speech problem, and it is amazing that he decided to read the book himself. You have to pay lots of attention so you won't miss any of the words he simply babbles.
Rating:
Summary: A ROLLER COASTER RIDER WITH TALENT
Review: This autobiography is a wonder to behold and a story of so many highs and lows you wonder how one person can be so talented, lucky and unlucky, a cad and a loving father, a lover and a steel-hearted scion. You will read about an interesting life in spades where there is action on every single page. A page turner if there ever was one. I raved so much about it that, now, my wife is starting it.
Rating: 
Summary: Name Dropping and Bragging
Review: This book, by former Paramount chief Robert Evans, was totally ruined for me by Bob Odenkirk's dead-on impersonation of his quirky style of speaking. (e.g.: Do I have any regrets? You bet your ass I do. Would I do it again? In a second.) Aside from this amusement, there isn't much to offer. Mostly it's just name dropping and bragging. Here he is the head of Paramount, and bragging about the stars that he hung out with and was friends with. Gee, I wonder why they were hanging around with him? And he takes credit for every hit that was made by Paramount while he headed it, saying he didn't listen to the people that wanted to kill the movie. But every movie has people at the studio arguing against it, and he was bound to make some hits sooner or later, as the head of Paramount pictures. I'm not saying he didn't do a good job, but so did every other head of a major studio in the same time period! If you're really into show business stories, you might enjoy this name-dropping, self-indulgent insider's account, but I don't recommend it.
Rating: 
Summary: Hollywood, Designed to be read as Literature
Review: This is a ridiculously entertaining book of Hollywood life and values, occasionally reminiscent of Caligula, more often of the yellowing adventures of the Black Mask. Evans is, despite himself, deathlessly enjoyable. It is clear from the start that he has scores to settle, but to his credit, he starts with himself. Hollywood, by definition, is a crazy place - Charles Bukowski's "Hollywood" cuts it to the bone - but Evans manages to make it beguilingly funny-crazy. Excesses pile on excesses, coke on crime, adultery on tragedy, until you can hardly stand up. I read this between a Henry Miller and a Hunter S Thompson and it made the others seem like choirboys. But it's not all lava-lamp-land. Eloquent and moving is Evans' account of the loss of his favorite home, and Jack Nicholson's kindness in supporting his fight back. And the coda? Can anyone not remain friends with a memoirist who takes his dollar, charges him like a bull, then tells the gallery to ... well, read it and believe it.
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