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- <text id=90TT1321>
- <title>
- May 21, 1990: A Novel Treatment Of A Legend
- </title>
- <history>
- TIME--The Weekly Newsmagazine--1990
- May 21, 1990 John Sununu:Bush's Bad Cop
- </history>
- <article>
- <source>Time Magazine</source>
- <hdr>
- BOOKS, Page 80
- A Novel Treatment of a Legend
- </hdr>
- <body>
- <p>By Jay Cocks
- </p>
- <qt>
- <l>WALTER WINCHELL</l>
- <l>by Michael Herr</l>
- <l>Knopf; 158 pages; $18.95</l>
- </qt>
- <p> It's got a dark, obsessive, partly despicable and wholly
- compelling protagonist; a strong supporting cast (Damon Runyon,
- Ernest Hemingway, Hedy Lamarr); a marvelous milieu (vaudeville
- in the '20s, New York City cafe society in the '30s, radio in
- the '40s, television in the '50s); a plot that comes in
- Gatling-gun bursts; and a resonance that is part parable of
- American success and part caution. Walter Winchell would make
- a great movie.
- </p>
- <p> It didn't, though. Michael Herr, whose 1977 Dispatches was
- one of the seminal books about Vietnam, first wrote this
- semifictional portrait of the man who turned gossip into a
- heavy industry as a film script. Herr recalls in a preface that
- he thought of the piece as "something `more' than a
- screenplay," while the prospective producers regarded it as
- "something less." Salvaging his unproduced work, he has kept
- much of the shape, hard rhythm and clipped language of the film
- format, as well as the occasional camera direction.
- </p>
- <p> The result is a bold stylistic stroke. The short scenes and
- pungent dialogue are ideal for catching the rhythm of
- Winchell's beat, while the residual piece of screenwriter's
- carpentry ("closing credits come up") underscores not only its
- artificiality but also Winchell's own purblind flair for
- self-dramatization. As a literary form, the screenplay
- generally rates as much respect as restaurant menu prose, and
- a novel molded like this slips past any easy characterization.
- </p>
- <p>novel with a camera in it."
- </p>
- <p> Winchell would have cooked up his own word--cinetome?
- flickfic?--something that catches the brash fluency and
- gritty romanticism of his own life. He would never have dared,
- though, to convert himself, as Herr so elegantly does, into a
- pint-size paradigm of scrambled patriotism and American success
- gone crazy. Herr's Winchell is an ex-vaudevillian who dances
- as he writes and lives: with little grace but an overabundance
- of berserk energy. He starts by posting sheets of trade tattle
- and pillow talk backstage at the crummy vaudeville theaters he
- plays. Within a decade he moves center stage, prowling
- Manhattan for scoops and scandal, making himself as feared and
- famous as the people he features in his column. Looking at
- dancers snuggling close one night at the Stork Club, his
- personal action-central, Winchell remarks, "Personally, I think
- it's all for show." Asks his long-suffering wife June: "But for
- whose benefit?" Replies a surprised Walter: "For whose benefit?
- For my benefit."
- </p>
- <p> An NBC radio show, broadcast weekly "from ocean to ocean,
- with lotions of love," makes Winchell, in every sense, a media
- monster. He knows there is something cancerous about American
- celebrity ("The spotlight," he says, "sheds a poison"), but he
- can't see that he himself will eventually succumb. In the '50s
- Winchell gets trounced by television while arch rival Ed
- Sullivan becomes an unlikely Sunday-night institution. A
- scrappy booster of F.D.R.'s, Winchell gets flummoxed and
- outfoxed by Roy Cohn and the red-baiters. An anomaly, Winchell
- throws in his famous fedora and moves to a resentful retirement
- in Arizona. Herr's vision of Winchell's fate is a fitting
- postlude, balancing irony and sympathy. He knows that, for
- Winchell, true hell is closing out of town.
- </p>
-
- </body>
- </article>
- </text>
-
-