The Passions of Howard Hughes

Rating:
Summary: It should be titled Howard Hughes: Rated X
Review: After suffering through this book, I am questioning the credibility of the Author's claim to be married to Howard Hughes. It was not a poignant story of a wife about her husband as I thought it should have been. Instead, it was a sordid expose of his sexual conquests mixed in with his last days on this earth. Although Hughes made many problems, I felt that this book gave a low blow to our memory of the man. In addition, a question kept repeating over and over in my head?

How would she know all of this stuff? She wasn't even there.

Rating:
Summary: Terry Moore should have stuck to acting
Review: OK, I didn't read the real book. I got the abridged cassette out of the library because I thought it might be fun. Who isn't interested in learning more about the "real" Howard Hughes, he of the legendary germ phobia and foot long fingernails. His ex-wife, Terry Moore, has teamed up with Jerry Rivers,more than likely a reject from The Star or National Enquirer, to come up with a trashy expose that belongs in the annals of the truly tasteless. Do we really need to hear repeatedly about Howard's throbbing member (I'm using these words because I don't know if reviewers are allowed to use the slang vulgarities used by Moore routinely), or starlets doing things to him that Monica did to Bill behind closed White House doors. Not to mention how she describes the wiles Bette Davis and Katherine Hepburn employed to keep Hughes interested. Thank God Davis is gone, and Hepburn too old to care. All of this squalor is delivered by Moore in a peppy (and loud) harangue reminiscent of a high school cheerleader. What was anyone thinking when they released this lemon? And how does Moore know enough about what went on behind closed doors to quote dialogue? Was she in Bette Davis' bathroom when the great Davis emerged from the bath like Venus on the half shell to unbuckle Hughes pants and ...? You get the idea. Save your money and cling to your own image of Howard Hughes. It has to be less demeaning than the one presented here.

Rating:
Summary: Terry Moore should have stuck to acting
Review: OK, I didn't read the real book. I got the abridged cassette out of the library because I thought it might be fun. Who isn't interested in learning more about the "real" Howard Hughes, he of the legendary germ phobia and foot long fingernails. His ex-wife, Terry Moore, has teamed up with Jerry Rivers,more than likely a reject from The Star or National Enquirer, to come up with a trashy expose that belongs in the annals of the truly tasteless. Do we really need to hear repeatedly about Howard's throbbing member (I'm using these words because I don't know if reviewers are allowed to use the slang vulgarities used by Moore routinely), or starlets doing things to him that Monica did to Bill behind closed White House doors. Not to mention how she describes the wiles Bette Davis and Katherine Hepburn employed to keep Hughes interested. Thank God Davis is gone, and Hepburn too old to care. All of this squalor is delivered by Moore in a peppy (and loud) harangue reminiscent of a high school cheerleader. What was anyone thinking when they released this lemon? And how does Moore know enough about what went on behind closed doors to quote dialogue? Was she in Bette Davis' bathroom when the great Davis emerged from the bath like Venus on the half shell to unbuckle Hughes pants and ...? You get the idea. Save your money and cling to your own image of Howard Hughes. It has to be less demeaning than the one presented here.