In 2010’s definitive Beautiful: The Life of Hedy Lamarr, biographer Stephen Michael Shearer writes that those close to Lamarr believed some of the nonsexual stories in Ecstasy and Me were accurate, with Lamarr’s own voice occasionally breaking through the sensationalist muddle. Sprinkled in are standard Hollywood gossip-sometimes catty, occasionally kind portraits of everyone from Judy Garland and Clark Gable to Ingrid Bergman-and inane pronouncements such as “Why Americans suspect bidets, I’ll never know. Lurid, amorous encounters right out of a Roger Corman sexploitation film and sexual trauma disguised as titillation are the main foci of this supposed autobiography, though sometimes it breaks, bizarrely, for transcripts of conversations Lamarr recorded with a psychiatrist.
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