There and Back to the Bookshelf Again

“I guess I was trying to take myself seriously, maybe too seriously, but then there are worse mistakes a young man can make.”
-- Sean Astin in There and Back Again: An Actor’s Tale

A large part of my identity is my favorite films. As a writer who still has aspirations in cinema and television, I find myself returning to my favorite works for inspiration, education, and entertainment. For the first 21 years of my life, the Star Wars films occupied the coveted spot at the top of my list. My all-time personal top ten list is always moving, always shifting, with films dropping off and returning as my knowledge of cinema expands. But Star Wars always came first.

Then something happened. The Star Wars prequels arrived on the screen with sour disappointment and the original trilogy remained conspicuously absent from the library of titles available on DVD. As a result, all that magic I fell in love with as a child began to fade like the color of a favorite T-shirt.

But there was Tolkein, waiting in the wings, to take the crown that once belonged to Lucas’ galaxy far, far away. It was an important day when I turned to my mother after surviving the all-day Lord of the Rings marathon and told her with certainty that Tolkein’s trilogy had supplanted the Star Wars films as my favorites.

Feeling as I do about these films, it was quite a delight to find Sean Astin’s book There and Back Again: An Actor’s Tale on my bookstore’s clearance rack during our after-Christmas sale. Sean Astin had the privilege to portray the lovable Samwise Gamgee in The Lord of the Rings films, and the first-hand account of one of the major players in the film franchise felt like a reasonable investment of my time.

Sadly, getting through the book was a struggle tantamount to Frodo’s quest to destroy the ring of power.

It seems asinine to criticize an autobiography for being too self-indulgent, but that was a major fault of this book. Familiar with its faults, I now think it might make for a compelling read not as a recollection of the production of the most ambitious films in history, but as a study of the natural handicaps of the children of Hollywood.

As a read, the book appears to have somehow avoided the editing process. A long 300 pages, the book could have wrapped up in 200. Almost a third of the book passes before The Lord of the Rings (clearly the major selling point of the book) becomes the major point of interest. Before that, Astin belabors his struggles as an artist who just can’t find rewarding work.

That’s a reasonable perspective for a Hollywood autobiography such as this, but Astin consistently hedges his bets. Every time he presents an opinion that might be seen as somewhat self-centered or off-putting, he prefaces it with a page long explanation so as not to offend anyone. This insecurity about both his opinions and his writing gets tiresome quickly. He name-drops incessantly, prefacing nearly every one with a default complement about their talent or their achievements (i.e. “Bruce Campbell brings a campy grace to almost any project.”) He admires everyone he ever worked with or seen or met or heard of, even when that includes a horrendous acting experience such as Encino Man. It becomes clear early on that we are never going to get Astin’s clear opinion about anything, because he needs to remain political within the Hollywood environment, and God forbid he should put a future job in jeopardy because of a throwaway line in a completely unnecessary book.

Astin, by now familiar with his 30’s, still seems to have an unclear perspective on himself and his career. After playing arguably the most endearing character in the most successful film franchise in modern times, Astin still feels bankrupt in career prospects. If there were ever a time to give a true opinion of the Hollywood machine, this would be it, but Astin doesn’t cash in the opportunity. His acting future remains more important than this one-time literary adventure. I can understand his priorities, but if you’re going to go to the trouble of writing the book, why half-ass it?

A compelling autobiography requires a unique perspective or insight. I don’t doubt that Astin has one, but he seems afraid to give it without first offering a qualification. The book would not have suffered had Astin come off as an opinionated, even unlikable young performer. It would at least demonstrate he has some perspective, some personality, something of worth to say. As it stands, Astin comes off as a weak, whiny Hollywood brat who needs to borrow some of the guts he so greatly demonstrated in his most beloved characters.