Zeroville

Unique and startling in how it dissects the mythology of Hollywood filmmaking. A novel that attempts to distinguish between how reality shapes the movies and how the movies shape reality itself.

Vikar is a troubled young man who arrives in Los Angeles in 1969, bearing a tattoo of his favourite film on his shaven head, trying to escape from a strict religious upbringing and an oppressive father through his love of cinema. The plot consists of his relationships with characters in the movie industry, his obsession with film and an encounter with a mysterious bit-part actress (Soledad) who may just be the unacknowledged daughter of Luis Buñuel.

The structure of the book is similar to a film ironically. Every brief chapter is built around a conversation, an observation, a Hollywood location, or a simple event. The episodic nature of the narrative perfectly complements the way a film could be cut and edited. Besides, as Vikar himself says fuck continuity. Needless to say, certain scenes are much funnier than others. A remarkably insightful discussion of movies between Vikar and a burglar whom he surprises in his apartment immediately comes to mind.

Also, cinematic references galore to the determent of the book, actually. Though I enjoyed reading what other characters perceive the directorial differences between a John Ford and Howard Hawks picture to be or how Bunuel invokes social commentary in his films, it became difficult to shake off the feeling that Erikson was showing off with his knowledge and opinions of film.

Lastly, the ending is pretty substandard, but I don't know how I would have concluded it either.

That said, I believe Zeroville is a very good book.

A hearty digestible meal of a trippy as hell read. A dark, comforting, humane waltz across 20th century film history. This book was written for me.

It says something that one of the blurbs on this book is FROM Pynchon, rather than a comparison to his work. This is the real thing. Hilariously, there's also a terrible film adaptation of Zeroville starring James Franco which destroys the impeccable tone in the novel. Luckily it BOMBED.

It's a surreal novel as we follow Vikar who sports a the tattoo of Elizabeth Taylor and Montgomery Clift on his shaven head. The book is a bonanza for old moviephiles, it's so entrenched in the Hollywood of the early 70's. I barely managed to eke out the references to Taxi Driver and Blade Runner.

But all these references are signifiers. That individual scenes play to a larger theme. And the book still managed to pull me through this fever dream of a story that somehow evokes the idea of film before tentpole summer blockbusters and special effects eye candy. I don't know what I just read, but despite my ignorance it managed to stick with me.