Prior to reading this book I probably couldn't have named two Illeana Douglas movies. I loved Grace of My Heart, but I don't actually remember her other performances that I know I've seen. Perhaps that's an indication of what an amazing actor she is: she inhabits a character so fully that you don't notice the actor at all. Maybe she just hasn't gotten enough big roles. I don't know. What I do know now is how much she loves movies. Wow, does she love movies. She's seen all of them, apparently, and can discuss every aspect of film-making and -viewing with equal ease. And also, she know how to tell a story.
Reiterating more or less what I must have written before when reading John Cleese: this is exactly what I want from a memoir. Weird and funny details about making movies (so many movies), anecdotes from encounters with famouser people, but mostly just the sheer delight of sharing her enthusiasm. She's really a very skilled writer who manages to make it all seem effortless and natural and intimate without ever being indiscreet. It would be an honor to find one's self in the index.