Jennifer Grey (1) (1960–)

Full disclosure: I really only knew Jennifer Grey from Dirty Dancing and anecdotes about That Nose Job before I read her memoir. And, while I’ve seen DD once, I did so as a twenty-something when I think it’s probably a movie you need to see in your teens to develop a real affection for. (i.e., I thought it was okay but not particularly great.) In a way, this might make me a better reader for Out of the Corner than a DD megafan, because reading this memoir makes it clear that Grey is not show more Baby—oh boy, is she not.

Fans of the movie who go into this expecting to find that Grey was some kind of retiring wallflower before she became America’s Sweetheart might find it jarring to hear that from the time she was 14 or 15, Grey was in full-on Wild Child mode: drinking, smoking, and doing drugs in a succession of high-profile Manhattan nightspots. I don’t consider myself a prude but I definitely found myself a couple of times wondering what the fuck Grey’s parents—themselves both showbiz people—were doing amid all of this. Grey is candid about her issues with addiction, anxiety and depression, sexual assault, a stalled career, toxic relationships, and health problems (many of the latter stemming from the ongoing fall-out of a horrific car crash she was in in Ireland in the late 80s with her then boyfriend, Matthew Broderick—neither Broderick nor his family come across well in this book, to put it mildly.) There’s plenty of 80s/90s name-dropping and celebrity dish, and Grey is an engaging (if occasionally a bit repetitive or woo-woo) voice. show less

Many of the famous and iconic people of my young life are of an age to be reflecting on their lives, and I'm of an age where that is terribly interesting. While many might land book deals, not all have the intellect and literary chops to pull off actually writing a good book, having anything worth saying, or writing well, at all. Like [[Andrew McCarthy]] before her, Jennifer Grey is the exception to that rule. The scandal of the surgical procedures to alter her nose are enough a part of the show more cultural ethos at this point, it's not something she could avoid. And she takes it on in the first few pages. But she handles it with a probing, m and sometimes, cutting wit, so that you can see how that one event fit into a larger pattern. The book rarely gets too deep into sappy tabloid territory, through she's not afraid to expose her behaviors that landed her in the checkout counter racks. This is a terribly well-written book, especially for someone who never had the best education. It's also a deeply personal book, and one that easily reflects back to the reader, as she invites you to see yourself in her own struggles.

5 bones!!!!!
Highly recommended. show less

I love Dirty Dancing and Jennifer Grey, as she was in the film, has long been a sort of hair and nose role model for me! However, I didn't really know very much more about the actress than her famous role and infamous cosmetic surgery procedure (which took her by surprise too - 'I was my nose's keeper'). So what a revelation her story is!

The daughter of famous acting parents (who I admit I had to google), Jennifer seemed to have a starstruck if rather bohemian upbringing, being shuttled show more between various schools in Los Angeles and New York, while living amongst celebs like Larry Hagman and Peter Fonda: 'I had the best parents and my parents had the best life.' Her teenage years were rather more eventful - her father moderated (or shared) her introduction to drugs, which eventually lead to addiction, and she had relationships with older men, one of whom asked her to fly to Brazil with him and then dumped her for Gilda Radner!

'How does such a darling girl, growing up with all her earthly needs met, adored by her parents, a girl with so much spunk and moxie, find herself in situations I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy?'

She started acting in her teens, when her parents thought she was old enough to take the rejection, and had a few minor roles, including Ferris Bueller's Day Off where she met Matthew Broderick, until landing the part of Baby Houseman in DD. I didn't know about her relationship with Broderick, which ended (or should have) in a literal car crash in Ireland, or that her rebound romance was with Johnny Depp - both of whom she was briefly engaged to! What a rogue's gallery!

Jennifer reminisces about her famous alter ego, of course, and how she didn't get on with Patrick Swayze after a disastrous experience working with him on an earlier film. There's also a funny anecdote about what he did to make her laugh in the 'You're wild!' car scene. I was surprised to learn that Jennifer was cast first, believing that the film was a vehicle for Patrick's talents, and Swayze and various other actor/dancers had to audition to work with her.

After her nose job ruined her career - even though changing her appearance was never what she wanted - Jennifer's brief stardom seemed to be over. She married fellow actor and screenwriter Clark Gregg and had her daughter, Stella, shifting into 'mom' mode in her forties.

I was captivated by Jennifer's life - her famous friends, like Madonna and Maggie Wheeler, her transition from precocious Hollywood daughter to New York wildchild, the car accident in Ireland with Broderick, her disastrous interview on the Johnny Carson Show (which wasn't that bad), and what really happened with her nose - but also surprised by her honesty and lack of pretension. Yes, the final chapter about a woman's role in life is a bit rambling, but she tells a good story and has plenty to tell! show less

Best for:
Fans of the actress.

In a nutshell:
Actress Jennifer Grey - best known for her role as Baby in Dirty Dancing - shares stories from her life, from childhood until now.

Worth quoting:
N/A

Why I chose it:
Someone was raving about it.

How it left me feeling:
Ambivalent.

Review:
How does one handle having a major success in their field and then ultimately not being able to reproduce it? What is it like when people who don’t know you are commenting on how you look, and making assumptions about show more you? And when telling one’s own story, how much of what other people have shared or confided can be shared in something as public as a memoir?

I think most of us know Jennifer Grey from her iconic role in Dirty Dancing, though some might recognize her as the recast Mindy character on Friends, who ended up marrying Rachel’s ex Barry, or as Ferris Bueller’s long-suffering sister Jeannie. In real life, she is the daughter of Broadway royalty, and also dated many of the hottest actors in the 80s, including Matthew Broderick and Johnny Depp.

One thing many people might recognize is that she had a nose job. She talks about this extensively at the start of her book, and provides context and background that I think most people just didn’t know, and judged her on. I found that to be interesting, because so much is fraught when it comes to talking about appearance, especially when it seems like someone has made changes to their appearance to meet certain white western beauty standards. But also … its her own face? Even if she had wanted the nose she ended up with (spoiler alert: she didn’t), why is that really any of our business?

Something that stood out to me most though was more of a meta observation about the nature of memoirs. It is someone telling their own story, as they remember it, with sometimes years or decades of time passing from when an incident occurred and when they are sharing their reflections. It’s their story, of course, and they get to own it, but I do think about how fair is it to people who may have passed in and out of their lives — possibly playing a major part, possibly just sharing one small but what they considered intimate moment — that their lives are shared as well?

For example, Matthew Broderick does not come off particularly well in this book, but the stories are about a relationship they had 30+ years ago. Is her recollection accurate? And even if it is, is there any space to consider how he might have changed in those 30 years? Do people, when reading these books, allow for that type of growth, or will they think Broderick of the 1980s is the same as Broderick of the 2020s? Does that matter? Should it?

I’ve read loads of memoirs (13 last year alone) but this was one of the times where those questions really stood out to me.

I didn’t know much about Grey before reading this book, and I don’t think I have much of a changed opinion of her. She’s been through some things, had some absurd adventures, and seems to really know herself as she enters her 60s. So that’s cool. She also talks extensively about motherhood, and stopping working as an actress to raise her daughter as an older first-time parent, and people with children might relate heavily to that. While I’m not sure I’d recommend this, I think people who are fans will find it interesting.

Recommend to a Friend / Keep / Donate it / Toss it:
Donate it show less