It's no secret that I hold a profound admiration for Robert Bloch's Psycho, the 1959 horror novel that screenwriter Joseph Stefano masterfully adapted into Alfred Hitchcock's classic film of the same name in 1960. While my affinity for Psycho and its sequels—excluding the completely unnecessary 1998 shot-for-shot remake by Gus Van Sant, which I prefer to forget—runs deep, my heart truly belongs to Hitchcock's 1954 thriller Rear Window, starring James Stewart and Grace Kelly. Hot on its heels is 1940's Rebecca, a cinematic classic, largely due to my newfound love for Daphne du Maurier's works. And then there's that nostalgic tie between Psycho and 1963 The Birds, a film loosely rooted in du Maurier's short story. The latter, alongside 1964's Marnie, has sparked intense debate over the years regarding the alleged mistreatment of actress Tippi Hedren by Hitchcock—a dialogue ignited by Donald Spoto's The Dark Side of Genius: The Life of Alfred Hitchcock (1983) and echoed in Spellbound by Beauty: Alfred Hitchcock and His Leading Ladies (2008). The latter work inspired the BBC/HBO film The Girl in 2012, which escalated claims of Hitchcock's purported sexual harassment of Hedren, a matter fiercely contested among those who worked with Hitchcock and film scholars alike

This backdrop leads us to the recently published A Century of Hitchcock: The Man, the Myths, the Legacy ^[*] by Tony Lee Moral, who, as a chronicler of Hitchcockian lore, aims to unravel these lasting narratives. With a fresh perspective grounded in new archival research, unpublished interviews, and a critical reevaluation of existing biographies, Moral challenges the entrenched views that have shaped Hitchcock's reputation over time. He carefully revisits the contentious claims regarding Hitchcock's supposed abuses, particularly scrutinizing Spoto's portrayal of his relationship with Hedren. Through the lens of Spoto's interviews, Moral reveals contradictions within longstanding claims and shines a light on the embellishments and distortions that have tainted Hitchcock's legacy for too long.

Hollywood is in a slow fade, and the reasons are as varied as they are troubling. Perhaps it’s the dominance of streaming platforms, or the rise of anxiety surrounding AI. Maybe it’s the political correctness that seems to permeate every script, or the disheartening lack of originality plaguing contemporary cinema. Whatever the cause, the younger generations appear indifferent to the once-glorious lights of Hollywood; they'd rather lose themselves in the fleeting entertainments of TikTok and YouTube. I might not be young anymore, but my passion for film, especially the classic Hollywood of yesteryear or the golden age untainted by CGI excess, remains strong. The current trend, where studios expect to recoup their lavish budgets during the opening weekend or risk relegation to a quiet home streaming release, makes it no wonder theater ticket prices are skyrocketing; who wants to shell out their hard-earned cash for a product that feels so out of touch?

This rant is fueled by my recent encounter with The Last Kings of Hollywood: Coppola, Lucas, Spielberg―and the Battle for the Soul of American Cinema ^[*] by Paul Fischer, the same author who brought us A Kim Jong-Il Production. As I write this, I realize I have a copy of the latter sitting unread on my shelf, a testament to my own chaotic reading habits. You may be wondering who these "last kings of Hollywood" are. They’re none other than the legendary trio: Francis Ford Coppola, George Lucas, and Steven Spielberg.

In the summer of 1967, as the old Hollywood studio system crumbled, a determined young film school graduate named George Lucas began his first day on the Warner Bros. lot as an assistant to the then-largely unknown Francis Ford Coppola, a boisterous father of two with a creative fire. Simultaneously, on the Universal Studios lot, a film-obsessed twenty-year-old named Steven Spielberg yearned to break free from his apprentice shackles and carve his own path as a director.

Welcome back, dear readers. It feels like I’m welcoming myself back to my Gunsmoke & Grit series, which has been collecting dust in the corner while I navigated the fog of burnout over the last few months. But here I am with a review of Clint: The Man and the Movies ^[*], published by Marnier in 2025 and written by Shawn Levy—not to be confused with the director. Now, I know this isn’t Western fiction, but let’s face it: Rowdy Yates graces the half-jacket, which made it impossible for me to resist featuring it in my Gunsmoke & Grit reviews.

Somehow, this book slipped under my radar when it was released last summer. It wasn't until I unwrapped it as a Christmas present that I discovered its existence. I cracked it open on January 5th and savored every page until I finished it on January 13th. Yes, I took my time, but that was intentional—I wanted to relish every word and fact about my favorite actor, Clint Eastwood.

Here’s my take on the blurb: From Shawn Levy, an acclaimed film critic and New York Times bestselling biographer known for his work on Paul Newman, this definitive biography of Clint Eastwood offers a revelatory glimpse into the life of a Hollywood titan. For more than sixty years, Clint has dominated the silver screen as one of the most prolific and versatile actors and directors in cinema history, embodying the very essence of American culture.

C-L-I-N-T. This single, sharp syllable has become a symbol of American manhood, morality, and a fierce, unyielding spirit—both on-screen and off—for over six decades. Whether he’s confronting villains in a dusty Western (Old West or new, it makes no difference) or commanding the director’s chair, Clint’s presence is as raw, honest, and solid as his name suggests. He’s not just another star of the old-school variety; he’s one of the most accomplished actor-directors of his time; a man forged from rock and iron—a relentless force named Clint.

For reasons that still elude me, I find myself enchanted by the enigmatic figure of Marilyn Monroe, the iconic blonde bombshell who left an indelible mark on Hollywood before her tragic demise at just 36. It’s not merely the unanswered questions surrounding her supposed overdose that intrigue me; instead, it’s her undeniable talent that drew my attention. Films like Don’t Bother to Knock (1952), Niagara (1953), River of No Return (1954), and The Misfits (1961)—her last completed film—showcase her ability to transform from a pretty face into a complex character. Ah, but when it comes to her life and death, the plots run thicker than the drama on screen.

Countless books have been dedicated to Monroe, yet most meander through a labyrinth of conspiracies about her untimely death. The latest entry, The Last Days of Marilyn Monroe by James Patterson and Imogen Edwards-Jones, which cheekily dubs itself a "true crime thriller" on the cover, is anything but. Instead, what you get is a biography that barely skims the surface of her “last days,” offering little insight into her tragic end. One wonders: why call it The Last Days of Marilyn Monroe when another book has already claimed that title? And why publish it in 2025, just one year shy of the centenary celebrations of her birth in 2026? Doesn't it seem like a marketing ploy?

The official blurb reads like a Hollywood script: "In life, Marilyn Monroe’s superstardom defies classification. In death, she remains shrouded in mystery." While the world waits for June 1, 2026, to celebrate her 100th birthday, it’s worth noting that she has been absent from the living for far too long. The prologue opens in the early morning hours of August 5, 1962, painting a haunting image of Eunice Murray, Monroe's housekeeper (personal nurse), discovering Monroe's locked bedroom and fearing the worst. When psychiatrist Ralph Greenson arrives, he finds a nude Monroe sprawled on her bed, lifeless, hand clutching a telephone, surrounded by an ominous array of empty pill bottles. The air is thick with sorrow, a sorrow that hangs over her legacy like a cold fog.

Through Gunsmoke & Grit, I'm excited to share my musings on fictional Wild West tales. However, I occasionally wander into the realm of nonfiction, like with Brothers of the Gun: Wyatt Earp, Doc Holliday, and a Reckoning in Tombstone by Mark Lee Gardner—set to gallop its way into bookstores on November 11, 2025, courtesy of Dutton. I was fortunate enough to snag a digital ARC from NetGalley many moons ago, and I deliberately refrained from reviewing it until just the right moment, when the publication date was close enough for a proper showdown.

Given the title, you can probably guess that this book is about the lives of Wyatt Earp and Doc Holliday—those legendary gunfighters whose names have been etched into the annals of history thanks to a thirty-second shootout at a little spot known as the O.K. Corral. But their storied friendship didn't kick off in that fateful moment in 1881; oh no! It all began back in the raucous cattle town of Dodge City three years earlier. Picture this: Wyatt, an assistant city marshal, is outnumbered by a pack of rowdy, armed cowboys. Meanwhile, Doc is comfortably perched at a monte table in the Long Branch saloon, a man of leisure—until he spots Wyatt's trouble. In true heroic fashion, Doc bursts out, two revolvers drawn, shouting, “Throw up your hands!” Startled, the cowboys comply, and off they are led to jail. Wyatt credited Doc with saving his skin that day, igniting a friendship as volatile as gunpowder.

I've started, deleted, and restarted this review multiple times, and finally, I decided not to sugarcoat my thoughts, unlike many other bloggers who also received an ARC copy. Yes, I read a few other reviews before penning my own. It's pretty obvious that either they didn't read the book. Or they gave it a good rating only because they received an ARC. Seriously, where is your integrity? I expect this from mainstream critics but not from bloggers.

Jesse James: The Life, Times, and Treacherous Death of the Most Infamous Outlaw of All Time
By: Frank Triplett
Publisher: Skyhorse Publishing
Pub. Date: April 1, 2013
ISBN: 978-1620873656
Pages: 432

Review:

Jesse James along with his brother Frank, the Younger Brothers and other bandits were the most famous outlaws post-Civil War, robbing banks and trains throughout Missouri and neighboring states. Jesse James was assassinated by a fellow gang member Robert Ford on April 3, 1882. A mining engineer and author, Frank Triplett, finished the first Jesse James biography seven weeks after Jesse James’s death.

This book had the longest title in American literature history - The Life, Times and Treacherous Death of Jesse James. The Only Correct and Authorized-Edition. Giving Full Particulars of Each and Every Dark and Desperate Deed in the Career of This Most Noted Outlaw of Any Time or Nation. The Facts and Incidents contained in this Volume, were dictated to Frank Triplett, by Mrs. Jesse James, Wife of Bandit, and Mrs. Zerelda Samuel, His Mother.

Frank Triplett wasn't exactly a fan of the Missouri governor Thomas T. Crittenden, as the governor had a hand in Jesse's death by putting out a $10,000 bounty on his head and conspiring with Robert Ford. 4,500 copies of the book were sold in 1882, but the governor had his agents collect the books and burn them. To this day only nine books survived.

PUBLISHED IN: 2010
Reviewed by Billy Burgess

Honestly, the only thing I know about General Patton is what I saw in the movie “Patton” staring George C. Scott. After reading the introduction to this book, you learn that the way Patton was portrayed was not correct. Patton’s rival General Omar N. Bradley worked as the film’s chief consultant, so all of the facts were not correct.

George S. Patton Jr. was born on November 11, 1885 in Los Angeles, California. Most of his ancestors were military heroes. At an early age, George wanted to continue the tradition. He learned to ride a horse and shoot guns, but he didn’t learn how to read and write until he was twelve years old. This caused a bit of a challenge for him when he started school in 1897. Despite his educational setbacks, he entered VMI in 1903 and later he would attend West Point. Patton studied all of the great military books.

After graduation, Patton joined the Army. Through the years he quickly went up the ranks. First as a Tank Commander and later as a General during WWII.

I enjoyed reading the book. I never knew that Patton was obsessed with perfection. I also never knew that Patton studied and kept track of new technology being developed. Patton was a respected man, who loved his family, his fellow soldiers, his country and God. I recommend this book to historical and military buffs.

I would like to thank Thomas Nelson for sending me a copy to review.