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Overview
The actor, photographer, and bestselling author reveals the Hollywood we see—and the one we don't—with a photography narrative featuring more than 250 emotionally charged color and black and white photos.
Keegan Allen is a Hollywood native, growing up in a world that millions visit and many more imagine. With an avid fan base that follows him on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, Snapchat, and a busy career that includes seven years on the hit series Pretty Little Liars as well as films directed by James Franco and Gia Coppola, Allen also is a lifelong photographer whose first book, life.love.beauty, was a national bestseller.
Now Keegan turns his eye and camera to the place he knows best. Hollywood captures the beauty and glamour of the place itself—with unusual angles of the famous sign, the glint of sidewalk stars stamped into the entrance of the Grauman’s TCL Chinese Theater in the rain, the Chateau Marmont at twilight, secret local hideaways, red carpets and more—but also the darker side of dreams unrealized in the faces, hands, eyes, and footsteps of those who live on the fringe of celebrity. His photos are enhanced by revealing, intimate captions, lyrics, and other writing, as well as hand-drawn illustrations, exciting parodies, and iconic emulations. A book that will engage and surprise Keegan's legions of fans and followers, Hollywood is an essential gift for anyone who has visited or imagined this storied place.
Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9781250086020 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | St. Martin's Publishing Group |
| Publication date: | 04/24/2018 |
| Pages: | 352 |
| Product dimensions: | 7.30(w) x 9.10(h) x 1.30(d) |
About the Author
Read an Excerpt
CHAPTER 1
HOLLYWOOD MIMICS LIFE, BOTH ON AND OFF THE SCREEN.
We stumble, we triumph.
We people-watch to gain little bits of our own self-awareness.
We learn ... what's cool, who's not, and why we care.
Do you?
Do you notice the people around you, vibrating with excitement to be where they stand?
Do you see the ones in the edges of the light who have lost anything or everything?
All of these lives separated by a few changes. Not so different anymore.
We are all free to dream. However bright and however dark, we embark upon the never-ending hopes of this foreverland.
This next section is a photo examination of immortalized Hollywood legends. Using my portrait shots from Madame Tussauds Wax Museum, I have juxtaposed them with street performers, tourists, public figures and celebrities.
To maintain anonymity, the stories have no relation to any photos surrounding them. Somehow, in Hollywood, we all live together.
What is real and what is not will always be debated here. ... You decide.
Sometimes I think I am losing my mind, but then I remember ... I'm just in Hollywood.
CHAPTER 2WE ARE ALL TOURISTS AND DIMLY LIT STARS
Is it a combination of the infinite possibilities that can happen in this town, or the unrealized fate of everyone who purchases time here?
Being lost is a trick that our souls long for our minds to explain.
This harbor of broken people walking around each other, failing to make eye contact, has only just begun to wake you up as you inch around with eyes focused on the stars in the sidewalk.
We make a checklist:
What are you searching for?
What are you running from?
What are your dreams?
Why are they so perfect?
What are others' dreams?
Why are they not perfect?
All the while, we're wrapped up in red carpets and millions of Instagram followers.
A ghostly arm rubbing our backs and asking for more is also lightly pushing us through the crowd to the exit.
As we all see what we never realized for ourselves until we watched this unfold for someone else.
and suddenly, you're someone else.
someone new.
you don't understand how you got here.
your old friends don't understand either.
but still, they wish you the best.
CHAPTER 3HOW I WENT FROM RICH AND FAMOUS TO A FORGOTTEN AND BROKE STREET PERFORMER
We all want to make money and use it to impress people. Tourists think I am impressed by their tips. "Wow!" they think I will exclaim. "This person gave me five dollars! Now I'm set!"
I came to Hollywood in 1984 and, after many auditions, got cast on a television show. Everything was wild. Good friends and great lovers. My parents never believed anyone could just come here and make a living. Home for me was a very conservative town, but of course, I wanted to show them that I could make a home and live a better life here than they had ever dreamed. I did it. A lot of people don't know that it takes a lot more luck, where opportunity meets preparation, to get a steady job here, and before all this "social" media ... it was a very different world.
Living high and mighty with beautiful people telling me I was beautiful. I drank that Kool-Aid. I believed I was a beatific child who would always have work. All my friends assured me of my bright future.
I sent a letter back to my mother and father with a check for ten thousand dollars to prove my success. I had dreams of them receiving it and proudly calling their friends. I imagined their eyes reading the letter.
Pride comes before the fall, right?
Something happened.
Something changed, and suddenly I couldn't get a job to save my life. My money went so fast, and everything fell to pieces. Forget drugs — I couldn't even afford a meal. I am a street artist living off tips from tourists now. I used to live up in the Hills, drive a nice car, and sleep in a huge bed. Now my life is hard. About nine years ago, I saw my father walking around the Strip here, looking for me. I assumed my mother had died and when he fell on hard times, he came to find where his big star lived. I ran away and hid in a retail store. I couldn't let him see me like this.
I cry a lot less, but I feel like a failure every day, and it's because of the vicious circle. Believing in the next big break but having nothing to show for it yet. I'm constantly taking an emotional loan out.
I fear someone from my past will recognize me, so I am in disguise constantly.
I want them to think I made it out of here and found love.
I like to think they are cozy next to the fire at home, knowing that I was a success. I am too old now to get out of where I am. So I dream of a better world that can never exist, because to lose in America as anything is never what I wanted. But every day I come out here and work, and I feel like I can be everything I want behind this mask. People light up when they see me when I'm working. If only they knew who I am underneath.
CHAPTER 4PATRON SAINT OF MY HOMETOWN
When I was twelve years old, the small town I grew up in deemed me the patron saint after my brother almost died in church from a seizure and I stopped him from swallowing his tongue. It was big news.
I was a little hero. My mother reminded me daily that I had to stay strong for the family and the community. I would walk around town, and everyone knew who I was. I was a real celebrity. People would shake my hand for good luck. I wore a white suit with white shoes every Sunday. No matter what, the clothing would get dirty almost immediately, but no one seemed to care except me. I cared how I looked. I felt like everything I did was so closely watched. Everything I said could be taken out of context, and my father would unknowingly tease me by telling me, "You have to be careful what you say; they may write it down in the papers and it will live forever."
A couple years went by, and I was waiting for my auntie to pick me up for a driving trip to see my grandpop about two hours away. My neighbor, who was very jealous of my "fame," had come walking by with a half-drunk six-pack. I was still a child and I didn't know what was what.
This boy chucked a beer at me and told me to take a sip. I still remember that beer flying through the air, and I didn't catch it — that should have been a sign right there — but I blew off the dirt and cracked it open. It was bitter and actually not as appealing as it would be now, but I drank it.
When my auntie came to pick me up, I thought for sure she would smell my breath and I would get caught. But she didn't even notice or say a word to me about anything other than that my granddaddy was very angry with her about some man named Louis, who I found out later was a man she was seeing while being married to my uncle. Bad times. Lots of tears for me to see. I wasn't a saint who could fix it.
I started sneaking out at night to drink and forget my shortcomings. Everyone still recognized me, though, and I had to hide in the dark places. When my mother passed away, my father beat me when I showed up to her funeral very intoxicated. He told me I was the glue that held this community together, and I'd let him down. So I turned in my wings for a shot at heaven.
I left the small town and hitchhiked to Hollywood to live with a group of people up on Mulholland, overlooking the city. We didn't have no fancy house; we slept in a car. That was okay back then, no tickets and no police telling you to leave. Just ... peace.
I wandered around Hollywood, and to this day no one believes that I was a real patron saint. I'm another nobody here. A shadow behind the people walking around. Everyone just thinks I'm a drunk, but at least you will know — you met a real patron saint, right here in Hollywood.
CHAPTER 5MY DAD ALWAYS BELIEVED IN ME.
He was a harsh man on himself, but everyone was. He told me he acted in a few things here and there, never really let me into his world. He thought of it as protection; I saw it as distance.
I was young, so that made our relationship harder. I was a difficult kid, constantly in trouble.
Break a window? I'll do it! Steal pens from Morning Glory? Sure. Steal a friend's car and crash it? I'm the person with no fear of the outcome. I was immune, invincible. I rode home in the back of cop cars a lot. They would drop me off at the house and ask for a picture with Dad, the whole time telling me how lucky I was to be his child. Eventually my mom gave up on all of us and left full-time, but we had to "pretend" like we were a family. We have been pretending since before I was born.
Sometimes dad would drink in the guesthouse bathroom.
I caught him talking to himself in the mirror, and it gave me nightmares. He was looking at himself like he was someone else. My mother would whisper-yell at him in the home theater because it had soundproofing. I had a crawl space that I would sit in, my ear to the wall. I heard everything. It hurt to know the truth.
Mom was always paranoid that people were listening, because they were.
Seeing yourself on the news is annoying at school the next day. If Dad did anything, everyone had something to say.
Overwhelming. Everything got out of control. It's scary as a kid to be out of control, but that's expected from time to time. I had training wheels fastened to my heels.
My parents didn't have control. They were so caught up in the drama of their existence, they forgot about my childhood.
My mother collapsed in the kitchen and started crying. She didn't recognize me anymore. She said she "missed it."
I grew up too fast.
I felt the guilt.
My dad continued to make movies that everyone knew. He got older.
I moved out but stayed in Hollywood because it will always feel like home.
The Liquor Locker, the Chateau, the Sunset Tower, repeat.
I don't talk to my parents now, but they pay all the bills. I have my own apartment.
My dad doesn't really have time to see me. He works on location, mostly. His agent is a better "dad" to me. He gets me the best gifts and always answers his phone. I've called him crying about Dad many times. He always says, "I know, I know. ..."
People see my life the way they want to see it, without living it. Without even knowing a real day in my shoes. I would switch places with you if I could.
Some of my friends' dads are famous too. They call people who aren't famous "plebs." My friends and I don't pay for anything.
I've been to Hollywood Boulevard a few times to visit Dad's star. It's not weird to me; it seems normal. What weirds me out is that no one can relate to me.
I'm alone and unknown. But so are you. ... We all are eventually.
CHAPTER 6MY HEAD SHOT SAVED ME FROM GETTING TOWED
My friends and I were all piled into my tiny car, looking for parking on a Friday night. Most people wouldn't even try to bother with parking, but I had a trick up my sleeve. I was dating a well-known actor who lived in the area for a couple weeks before I broke it off. He lived right where we were looking for parking. We ended on good terms, so I decided to park in his driveway. Just so he knew it was me, I put my head shot on my dashboard. I was still nervous that my car would be towed.
CHAPTER 7THE A-LIST ACTOR
I got a call from my agent when I was at work, waiting tables with the rest of the Los Angeles actors. When I got home, I saw the light on my answering machine blinking, and my stomach shifted into almost a semi-nauseated turbulence. I hated going on auditions.
The casting process is so maddening for actors on the front lines with no résumé. You are damned if you do and damned if you don't.
Casting directors might have had a disagreement in the morning with their friend, colleague, or parking meter maid, and they will take it out on you if you strike the chord wrong. It's even worse when you look like someone they don't like. I would walk on eggshells, even though I had some work under my belt ... but starting out, I would get these panic attacks when the phone would ring.
Well, sure enough it was a "general" meeting. I was relieved because that meant I would get a free coffee and possibly meet someone who could point me in the right direction. Although, most "general" meetings can sometimes get spooky when intentions are unclear.
I went to this "general" meeting only to find out that the casting director I was meeting with had requested another actor who looked like me to meet them. So when I walked in, I was greeted with a hint of confusion and a way better-looking version of me in the mezzanine.
That painfully awkward moment almost left me defeated, until the assistant chased me down and told me I would get to read for this character. My doppelgänger was right there, stretching for the race.
Casting offices are always different. You never really know what will happen.
Long story short, I got the job because the actor they originally wanted had too much "fragrance" on in the room and that iced everyone out. I'd like to believe they hired me for my charm and theatrical talent, but that was my first big break, caused by a complete fluke. Now, countless roles later, I am very grateful to be part of this crazy business, but I never forget where I came from — a coffee meeting with no "fragrance."
CHAPTER 8YOU'RE OFF
You're off somewhere in Hawaii you're on some island you think about me from time to time and smile
You hear a song and remember cold summer mornings before the fog would lift and we would still be up from the night before making plans
You're out making your fortunes and checking places off your map you're on some binge of specialty cookies and home-baked goods bought from roadside stands
You pause at sunsets to take in what we talked about back here in LA when we were younger when you still trusted people when we were still both new
You know my dad died twice and it makes you cry to lose your keys
But you're off somewhere in some doorway sitting in some lobby
down some staircase briefly lost in thought and you can't quite figure out what it is
I'm writing to tell you
it's me.
CHAPTER 9INHERITANCE
I have been living in Hollywood since 1972. I was working at a retirement home that is now the Hotel on Sunset Boulevard. I never wanted to be an actress or anything in the public eye. My time was spent helping older people live out the rest of their lives in comfort. I met a very old, kind gentleman when he would come visit his friends every weekend. I was just an average girl, but he would always talk to me about show business and tell me I should be in movies, or model. He told me that I was the most beautiful person he had ever seen, inside and out. He eventually asked me to have dinner with him. It turned into a normal arrangement: we would have dinner and he would tell me his stories about his grand life. When he died, he left me his estate, which shocked me. He had no other family. Suddenly I was responsible for more money than I had ever imagined. So now I just live day by day between Bel-Air and the Hollywood Hills. A dreamland that my wildest dreams have yet to catch up with. I think about him every day and how he changed my life. I'm a spoiled old lady now, but don't worry. ... I have someone to leave his estate to. My cats!
(Continues…)
Excerpted from "Hollywood"
by .
Copyright © 2018 Keegan Allen.
Excerpted by permission of St. Martin's Press.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
Table of Contents
Title Page,
Copyright Notice,
Dedication,
Hollywood Mimics Life, Both on and off the Screen,
We are all Tourists Amid Dimly Lit Stars,
How I Went from Rich and Famous to a Forgotten and Broke Street Performer,
Patron Saint of my Hometown,
My Dad Always Believed in Me,
My Head Shot Saved Me from Getting Towed,
The A-List Actor,
You're Off,
Inheritance,
Love You More than for Forever,
This Foreverland,
The Perfect Days,
Acknowledgments,
Also by Keegan Allen,
About the Author,
Copyright,