Showing results by narrator "Nat Segaloff" in All Categories

Lloyd Nolan could play any character in any genre and was believable to every role. He was not acting; he was just real. He was Inspector Briggs in The House on 92nd Street and The Street With No Name. He was Dr. Swain in Peyton Place and, even as a bad guy, he was Lt. De Garmot in Lady in the Lake. Nolan's off-screen life was just as remarkable. He was devoted to his autistic son Jay and, when young Jay died in an accident 2,500 miles away, Lloyd channeled his grief into action.

Critic-producer Nat Segaloff was granted access to private papers, production records, never-before-published interviews, and specialized archives in reconstructing the colorful, touching, and sometimes scandalous stories behind the making of the last films of some of Hollywood's top directors.

Sometimes fiction is the best way to tell the truth. In this, his first collection of short stories, Nat Segaloff (Final Cuts, Guarding Gable, Mr. Huston/Mr. North) reveals the truth behind some of Hollywood’s biggest scandals, agendas, and confidences. First published by reporter/columnist Nikki Finke on her acclaimed website HollywoodDementia.com, these romans-à-clef expose long-hidden secrets about the Blacklist, the Oscars, publicity stunts, studio follies, ageism, celebrity weirdness, and other gambits that, even today, are barely whispered.

The Hollywood Canteen was the jewel in the crown of World War II Hollywood. From 1942 to 1945, over three million servicemen came through its doors on their way to fight in the Pacific - some never to return. There, in a converted barn in the heart of Hollywood, soldiers were fed, entertained by, and danced with some of the biggest stars in the world.

Ward Morehouse III’s father, the late drama critic Ward Morehouse, lovingly introduced his son to the glamorous life of luxurious hotels. This is his memoir of his experiences at New York’s Plaza Hotel, including the many actors and actresses who came and went, the glamour and glitz, and also the animals that were brought there, even a bear named Bangkok who lived for a time at the Plaza Hotel.

Between 1934 and 1968, no Hollywood studio could make a movie without the permission of, and a seal of approval from, the Production Code Administration. Formed in 1930 but not enforced until 1934, the Production Code was Hollywood’s official censorship system. Screenplays, books, plays, costumes, and even story ideas and song lyrics had to be cleared by the Code before they could be filmed, and Code staffers watched at every stage of the production process to ensure compliance.

The Towering Inferno (1974) was the crowning achievement of über-producer Irwin Allen, the self-proclaimed “Master of disaster.” Crafted from two best-selling books and with a budget-busting cast headed by two mega-stars, it took two studios to bring it to the screen. In celebration of the 50th anniversary of The Towering Inferno, biographer-historian Nat Segaloff (who was a member of the film’s special publicity unit) writes about the production, its innovative marketing campaign, and the goings-on before, during, and after its box office success.