For many years her contributions were mis-attributed and denied, but now Mallory O’Meara has done the research and unearthed the strange life of Creature from the Black Lagoon designer, Milicent Patrick (one of many names she eventually took on throughout her life and career), recounting Patrick’s story in the context of the time and with the context of O’Meara’s own life.

From a childhood at the Hearst Castle (known at the time as the “La Cuesta Encantada”(The Enchanted Hill), to a career in Hollywood both in front and behind the cameras, to dealing with sexism and overblown male egos, as well as her many tumultuous relationships with men as well as her family, Milicent (not her given name) was truly a woman who went through a lot, but who managed to never let it get her down.

The Lady from the Black Lagoon is a very interesting look at a woman who should be known by anyone interested in old Hollywood or monster movies, and O’Meara does a great job digging up and contextualizing Milicent’s life (including signing her future ghost up for Mormon dating, thanks Mallory), even putting it in context for recent phenomena like the #MeToo movement.

Though parts of the book get a bit less fist-pumping and more staring-mournfully-out-the-window-contemplating-life, Patrick’s life is one that, while having its share of ups and downs, is an overall must-read. Definitely check it out for the full story of a lost icon and for the full story on how the world buried her achievements.

Why was I interested in this book?

I'm a horror movie and special effects buff. The story of a woman working in early Hollywood as a Disney animator and creature-feature designer sounded good to me.

What Didn't Work... For Me

Full disclosure: I did not finish reading this book. Usually, I don't post reviews of books I haven't finished, but I want to make an exception in this case. I read over a third of The Lady from the Black Lagoon while slowly realizing that this book is not to my taste. That doesn't mean that it's necessarily a bad book.

There is an adage that biographies and memoirs should have a compelling story at their heart. The problem with this quip is that "compelling" is subjective. There are plenty of perfectly good memoirs in existence that don't interest me at all; I do not find them compelling for whatever reason. There are two narratives at play in The Lady... . One is life of Milicent Patrick, animator and creature designer. The other narrative is about the author Mallory O'Meara's career as a woman in the modern horror movie industry and, especially, how she researched this book. Maybe it's because I've done my own research work, but O'Meara's portion of the book, bogged down Patrick's story for me.

O'Meara is also very close to her subject and her attitudes continually bleed into history. That is something that is very attractive to some nonfiction readers. For me, I guess I'm a more stodgy in my attitudes. I feel like if you present history well enough, I can make my own comparisons to current events. I've also read a few biographies this year that weren't afraid of being slim. The Lady... ended up feeling padded out instead of being a quick 200 page biography. Again, this might be more due to my particular taste in books lately.

Overall

I think Milicent Patrick is an interesting subject, a woman who lived an extraordinary life. I think Mallory O'Meara's telling can add scope and context for some readers, just not me.

I didn't finish this but I am in no way rating it down, because it's a me-not-you thing. I requested this because I love the author's podcast, but I just have a really hard time focusing on nonfiction.

I was interested to finally read about Milicent Patrick, her upbringing and the context of her time in regards to her career, particularly among the subculture of the mid-century animation world, makeup artists and horror makeup/special effects; less so the direct correlations to today's similarly regressive climate. The frequent interjection of strident asides and arguments aren't wrong but they strongly overshadow the work put in researching and excavating Patrick's life story.

Thanks, I assigned coverage of the book to one of our writers, and we published a good interview with Ms. O'Meara on "The Lady from the Black Lagoon": https://www.dailynews.com/2019/03/01/the-search-for-the-woman-who-designed-the-creature-of-the-black-lagoon-monster-led-to-this-lady/

I am so happy to finally be writing this review. I've followed writer/filmmaker/reader extraordinaire Mallory O'Meara for quite some time, and I have been looking forward to this book since she first started talking about it on the podcast, Reading Glasses.

Like probably 90% of the population, before picking this book up, I didn't know anything about Milicent Patrick. I love film. I love genre film, and classic monster movies are the best. The fact that a woman designed arguably the most iconic movie monster in history is amazing, and I was eager to find out more of her story. From a childhood at the famous Hearst Castle to Disney and a later life of socialite status, Patrick's life is fascinating.

I loved that this book is as much about O'Meara's journey as it is Patrick's life. As a library professional, I was blown away by her research and dedication to tracking down information. I loved the flow of the story. It unfolds like a mystery and alternates between Patrick's story and O'Meara's search.

This book is so many things. A look at both classic and modern Hollywood from the perspective of a producer/filmmaker. A biography of a largely unknown icon. A classic quest to uncover hidden information. And, of course, an old-fashioned, geeking out over film. I can appreciate all of these things. I even teared up at the end.

I cannot recommend this book enough. I read the entire thing in O'Meara's voice, and I've already requested my library purchase the audiobook, so I can listen to and relieve it again!

This is a great book on the challenges of women in the film industry. I really enjoyed it and definitely recommend it!

*I received an advance copy of this book from NetGalley in exchange for an honest review*
"Let me tell you about this amazing book!" has been the start of many conversations I've had since coming across The Lady from the Black Lagoon. As a fan of the Reading Glasses podcast, I knew that I had to get my hands on a copy of Mallory's book. While I love the idea of old Hollywood and mysterious disappearances, I know almost nothing about the horror genre or monsters in general. Luckily, this book seems to be written with the intention that anyone with or without that background knowledge can read it! I was enthralled by Millicent Patrick's story from page one. This book is especially prevalent during the Me Too movement currently sweeping the nation. Mallory weaves her own story perfectly in this memoir about Millicent's life. One of my favorite parts in particular was the interesting and funny use of footnotes. I can't wait to see this book hit stores and libraries everywhere, and I hope Millicent's story will be told with as much fervor as many of the forgotten women throughout history that have recently come to light.

I am a huge fan of Reading Glasses, Mallory’s podcast, and was intrigued when I heard about this book. As a feminist and holder of a history degree, I had to read this. Milicent Patrick is a fascinating woman, and one I wish I’d heard of sooner. Her life deserves to be known, and I loved that Mallory included her own story in her, as well as her research story. You like strong women, horror stories, and witty footnotes? Pick this up, you won’t regret it.

An interesting and timely read. Milicent Patrick was a woman of many talents, but went largely unrecognized in her time. The great benefit of this book is bringing her to life. It's hard to criticize a biography because in some ways you are criticizing someone's life and life choices. However, here, Patrick was in fact more privileged than many many women of her time (or this time). The comparisons between Hollywood then and now sometimes work and sometimes don't. Clearly O'Meara is a fan and that does come through loud and clear. Thanks to Netgalley for the ARC.

In the 1950s, a young artist and background performer of various film roles designed what is easily the most visually arresting of the Universal horror movie monster. Employed in the special effects shop at Universal Studios, Milicent Patrick created the Gill Man for the 1954 film, Creature from the Black Lagoon. While her creation would become one of the most recognizable and iconic movie monsters in cinema, Patrick would unfortunately become lost to history as her supervisor’s jealousy, rampant sexism in the film industry, and a total lack of proper crediting of filmmaker’s roles in 1950s, all worked together to obscure and all but eliminate her legacy.

Thankfully, film producer, author, Milicent Patrick fan, and Creature from the Black Lagoon obsessive, Mallory O’Meara has stepped in to unearth Patrick’s forgotten history and set the record straight with her wonderful The Lady from the Black Lagoon. Given the unfortunate state of obscurity Patrick fell into, O’Meara certainly had her work cut out for her. Luckily, she’s a dogged investigator and was able to piece together Patrick’s puzzling history through a whole lot of archival research, industry contacts, and interviews. Over the course of her writing, O’Meara notes the various confluences that have randomly, surprisingly, and unknowingly linked her to Patrick over the course of her life. There’s a certain sense of destiny at work in these moments that are quite charming and really make you root for O’Meara’s efforts to uncover and reveal Milicent’s buried history.

The Lady from the Black Lagoon is meticulously assembled and presents a candid and honest representation of O’Meara’s personal hero without being slavish or overly fannish. And make no mistake, O’Meara is most certainly a fan, one who even sports a tattoo on her arm of Patrick and the Creature. She is wholly devoted, though, to teaching us about Patrick’s life, warts and all. I knew hardly anything at all about Milicent Patrick going into this book, but it’s safe to say I’m certainly a fan now, too.

Patrick is a vitally important figure in film history, and not just because of what she’s created, but what she could represent for future generations of women in the arts. Patrick is the first and only woman to have ever designed an iconic movie monster. Think about that. In almost 65 years of cinema, there has not been another notable creature designed by a woman. And over those same 65 years, men and history have sought to completely eliminate Patrick’s role in designing the Creature, giving sole credit to her manager, Bud Westmore, who ran the special effects shop at which she was employed.

Throughout the course of The Lady from the Black Lagoon, O’Meara writes with firey passion at the injustices perpetrated upon Milicent Patrick. She’s angry, and rightfully so. Hell, I’m mad right now just thinking about all the various issues raised over the course of this book’s 300-plus pages. And if you have any kind of a conscious or sense of fairness, this book will justifiably piss you off, too.

While uncovering the history of Patrick’s legacy is clearly a passion project for O’Meara, The Lady’s focus is not limited solely to the special effects artist. O’Meara’s research places Patrick within the context of her time, but the author smartly compares those issues of 1950s sexism and male domination over Hollywood to the present day, within the scope of the #MeToo era. It’s sad and disgusting just how little has changed in six decades, and how fully sexist, male elitism still thrives within Tinseltown. O’Meara doesn’t bother hiding her anger and these injustices, and more power to her. She, too, has been objectified countless times, as has every other woman working in Hollywood. At one point she relates a personal story of, as a producer for Dark Dunes Productions, having cast a male actor to voice a character for one of their films. Upon meeting O’Meara and seeing her green-dyed hair, he immediately volunteers to help dye her pubic hair. Incidents like these are not rare in Hollywood, and O’Meara reports that every single woman she knows in the film industry has many, many, many stories like hers.

The toxic environment that defined the 1950s era of filmmaking is alive and well in present day, and 65 years later, O’Meara has found far too many similarities between her own experiences and those that utterly destroyed Patrick’s career. As O’Meara writes in her introduction, “It’s not just her story. It’s mine, too.” Sadly, it’s the story of every woman in Hollywood then and now, present-day, right now, right this fucking minute. The jealous claims to fame that Bud Westmore latched on to and used to ruin Patrick’s career and her future in special effects are hardly a thing of the past. In 2017 and 2018 we saw first-hand women finally speaking out, publicly and openly, about the sexist state of their industry, the decades of abuse they’ve had to endure from repulsive figures like Harvey fucking Weinstein. It’s a serious issue that demands exploration and rectification, as well a reclamation for the histories of women that were ruined solely to appease or protect powerful men.

How many other women have played vital roles behind the scenes in Hollywood, only to have their contributions covered up or credited to their male counterparts? How many women around the world have been denied representation, denied even the idea that they, too, could create horror icons or work in the special effects industry? The fact that all of the most well-known special effects artists are men “didn’t seem strange to me,” O’Meara writes. “It was status quo. … I had never seen myself reflected in the world of horror filmmaking. The possibility of it never crossed my mind.” When she began writing The Lady from the Black Lagoon in 2016, 96% of that year’s films were directed by men, only a four percent difference from the 100% of male directed films of 1954 when Creature from the Black Lagoon was released. “It’s harder for women to get into Hollywood than it is for us to get to space,” she writes, nothing that sixty women have been to space between 1983 to now, but that only one woman, Kathryn Bigelow, has ever won an Oscar for Best Director in 2010. Their roles in front of the camera are little better, with the vast majority of speaking roles going to men, with the film leads being men, with the action heroes being men, with the monsters being men, and the artists creating the monsters being men. Characters like Ellen Ripley and Buffy Summers are not the norm; they are outliers and few and far between at that. When women are able to break through the male domination of Hollywood, they are routinely questioned on how they landed any given job, with the automatic assumption being that they slept with their boss rather than worked hard and were actually fucking talented. No, even then, the automatic default for a woman in Hollywood is to be reduced to nothing more than a sex object. It’s goddamned repulsive and infuriating.

The Lady from the Black Lagoon is a necessary read and a vital contribution to our society’s (sadly) on-going discussion on issues of representation and equality. It’s a much deserved biography of an important, and overlooked, woman and her contributions, but it’s also a hell of a lot more than just an accounting of Milicent Patrick’s history. O’Meara takes note of the historical injustices that beset Patrick and explicitly shows us how little we’ve progressed societally and with women in film, and by tackling these issues of rampant sexism in cinema, she’s raised the bar in terms of awareness and combating these issues with her outspokenness. Speaking as a man, if there are any male readers out there bemoaning all this, my only advice to you is to simply shut the hell up and listen, because you should be learning from these women and their experiences and working hard at being better.

[Note: I received an advance reading copy of this title from the publisher via NetGalley.]

Despite the title, I would not call this a book about the Lady from the Black Lagoon. This is a memoir about O’Meara researching Milicent Patrick’s previously unknown life with a lot of filler to make this into a full-length book. With a few exceptions, the first 85% of this book doesn’t have much about Milicent Patrick. Instead we learn about her father’s background, William Randolph Hearst and his architect Julia Morgan, Nelbert Chouinard, the Westmores, a history of special effects and makeup in film, monster suits that are not the Creature’s, critiques on various 1950’s horror movies, gender inequality, current political and social movements, and privilege ad nauseam. Throughout the book she chided those who focused on Milicent’s appearance when she did exactly the same, repeating how attractive she was and calling her a “babe.”

There is a dark side to the person who has been obsessed over for this book. Her family estranged themselves from her and two people committed suicide as a result of her actions. There are many allegations that Milicent Patrick didn’t visually create the Creature from the Black Lagoon and O’Meara does a poor job of discrediting these claims, writing that she either doesn’t believe them or that men who worked on the set wouldn’t remember a woman in a notable position because of the fact that she’s a woman. This does nothing to help her credibility as an author. She writes so much of how the horror genre is saturated with misogynist able-bodied white men that I wonder what she finds appealing about it. O’Meara is not a terrible writer, did a good job researching, and a small chunk of this book was actually interesting, hence the two stars. However, words and phrases repeatedly used are immature and very much geared towards millennials or those who are not offended by hashtags in print. To me this feels more like a blog post than a finished, published piece of work.

I feel that this book could be improved immensely by only focusing on Milicent’s life and O’Meara’s research journey. If there had not been unnecessary background on other individuals and so many personal opinions, I would have given this book at least four stars.

I was given a copy of this book via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.

I was so excited when I learned that Mallory O’Meara was putting out a book. If you’ve ever heard her speak (and if you haven’t, you should give her podcast Reading Glasses a shot!), you’ll know that she’s passionate about filmmaking, feminism, and literature. This book, part biography, part memoir, and part film history, not only combines these interests but also allows Mallory’s strong voice and devotion to shine through. You can tell from the very first page that she has poured every ounce of her being into this story.

I did feel that the writing started off a bit choppy -- something that may have been smoothed out in the final version -- but it steadily finds its footing. Regardless, even when the writing feels like it may use a little work, the content itself is arresting. Mallory sets up Milicent’s place in history by describing the gender inequality we still see in the film industry today through an effective mixture of statistics and personal anecdotes. She also makes it clear that otherwise privileged women -- straight, white, cisgender, and able-bodied -- are just the tip of the iceberg. If even these women are kept from succeeding, how can women facing additional layers of oppression have a chance?

After sinking her hooks into you with this introduction, she begins wading into the life of Milicent Patrick. I will admit that I felt a little lost toward the beginning. She starts well before Milicent’s birth and I felt that for the first third or so, more attention was given to certain pieces than seemed necessary. While it certainly set a context for Milicent’s life, I found it a bit difficult to remain attentive while reading it. Luckily, Mallory breaks up the history by sharing pieces of her own journey to discover Milicent.

This book is truly as much about Mallory’s relationship to Milicent as it is about Milicent herself. Through her, Mallory was able to find inspiration, was able to see women as belonging in what had always been more of a boys’ club. It is clear that Mallory is not just fascinated by Milicent as a person, but also Milicent as a beacon to all the girls out there with interests in fields that they may find themselves excluded from. Because she dared to stand out, Milicent was buried in the pages of history. Thankfully, Mallory was able to dig her back out.

This book doesn’t fill just one niche, and I can see it sparking the interest of many. Enjoy reading about film history? Crave feminist non-fiction? Love a good humorous memoir? The Lady from the Black Lagoon may hit the spot for you. I was a little nervous picking it up because, while I love a lot of non-fiction, I’m not very interested in film-making. I was glad to find myself entertained, educated, and satisfied upon finishing. If you find your interest piqued after this review, I definitely recommend picking Mallory’s book up.

First off, I want to start by saying I am a huge Creature From the Black Lagoon fan. I grew up with nightmares from the creepy yet memorable soundtrack (Why was I allowed to be near this movie at age 3?), yet still went on to love the Creature and make him my favorite Universal monster. I even got to meet Ricou Browning, the actor who played the Creature in the underwater scenes, this past October, and it was by far the highlight of my year. As soon as I saw a book about the woman who designed the Creature costume I knew I had to have it. And let me tell you, I have never enjoyed a nonfiction book more.

Mallory O'Meara wrote a detailed history of Milicent Patrick's life, starting from her parent's history all the way up to her death in 1998. O'Meara did a marvelous job putting together all the details she could find on Milicent, even though they were few and far between. I really enjoyed learning more about what goes in to making a movie and all the moving parts that are involved. I knew nothing about producing/directing/designing movies before I picked up this book, but O'Meara does a great job explaining everything in a way someone with no background in film can understand. My favorite part, however, were the footnotes O'Meara had scattered throughout the book. They were usually just side comments she had about something she had just mentioned, but they had me laughing out loud on the train, on the subway, and getting weird looks from fellow commuters. I think I can honestly say this was the first nonfiction book I actually looked forward to reading.

I gave this book 4 stars instead of 5 based on the writing. O'Meara does not have a background in writing, she is a film producer, so the book doesn't flow as smoothly as it could. I loved hearing how she tracked down all her information, and some of the awkward/nerdy thoughts she had while she was doing it, but sometimes the writing seemed too conversational.

Overall, I highly recommend this book to The Creature From the Black Lagoon fans, people interested in the sexism in the movie industry in the 1950s, or fans of Mallory O'Meara. I will definitely be buying the hardcover copy of this book as soon as it comes out.

The 1954 film The Creature from the Black Lagoon is the pinnacle of the monster movie cannon. While it was made over 60 years ago, it is still providing inspiration to filmmakers, recently Guillermo del Toro with his 2017 Academy Award winning best picture The Shape of Water, and you’d be hard pressed to find a makeup or effects craftsperson working in the genre today who will not list the Creature among their inspiration. When you watch the film the makeup is credited to Bud Westmore but in her new book The Lady from the Black Lagoon: Hollywood Monsters and the Lost Legacy of Milicent Patrick, Mallory O’ Meara is here to make sure you know who really designed the creature and whose role as creator was subverted by the patriarchy of Hollywood.


Milicent Patrick’s, until now, undocumented life is fascinating. From growing up on the grounds of Hearst Castle, to becoming one of the first female animators at Disney; from bringing an idea of Ray Bradbury’s to life, to designing the Creature, she did it all with much lauded style and grace. What really shines the most in this book though is O’Meara. The Lady from the Black Lagoon: Hollywood Monsters and the Lost Legacy of Milicent Patrick is a true labor of love and that absolutely comes through in the pages of this book. It’s a painstakingly researched biography woven with autobiographical details of O’Meara’s life focusing on her quest to produce this book and discovering parallels between her own experiences working in Hollywood today and Patrick’s years ago. The book is completely of the zeitgeist addressing the “me too” movement and painfully detailing O’Meara’s own experiences handling the disgusting misogyny of Hollywood. I especially loved getting to know O’Meara through her snarky footnotes that helped to lighten it up when shit got heavy.


Full disclosure, before I picked up this book, I had not seen The Creature from the Black Lagoon. If you’ve listened to the podcast then you know that the classic monster movies are my horror blind spot. After devouring the book, I watched the film and was surprised by how much I enjoyed it because of the Creature makeup effects and let’s be honest, Kay’s myriad outfit changes while floating down the Amazon. Milicent Patrick legacy is now living through a new fan and I think that’s what O’Meara really wants readers to take away from her book.

Milicent Patrick may be the most interesting Hollywood personality you’ve never heard of. Mallory O’Meara, a horror film producer and screen-writer, discovered that a woman designed the Creature from the Black Lagoon and wanted to learn more about her. O’Meara spent three years researching the life of this actress and artist and the resulting book is a fascinating look at an interesting life during Hollywood’s golden age. Milicent Patrick lived for 10 years as a child at the California estate of William Randolph Hurst, surrounded by opulence. A skilled artist, she attended the Chouinard Art Institute, was noticed by Walt Disney and became one of the first female animators for Disney. A striking woman, Patrick was also noticed by other filmmakers of the time leading to a career as an actress. Never landing a leading role, she spent much of her off camera time (and there was lots of it), drawing portraits of her co-stars. A Universal Studios (at the time best known for their horror films) executive noticed her artwork and hired her in their makeup and special effects department where she conceived several movie monsters, most notably the Creature from the Black Lagoon. The studio wanted to use Patrick’s presentation skills, good looks, and creative expertise to promote the movie showcasing “the Beauty who made the Beast”. The jealous head of the makeup department allowed her to promote the film only if she gave up credit for the development of the Creature; which she did. The Lady From the Black Lagoon is not only a well-research biography that covers the life of one of the early female pioneers in Hollywood, but it is written by a current producer and horror fan, an unapologetic feminist who inserts her own story and voice in the telling, making it a richer story.

This book uncovers the legacy of Milicent Patrick, the woman who created the design for the creature in The Creature From the Black Lagoon. Along the way the reader is treated to fascinating snippets of some of the early history of California, Hollywood, Disney, Universal Studios, and more. I will definitely be seeking out a good biography of Julia Morgan after reading this book!

I really adored this book. Mallory O'Meara's conversational yet impassioned writing style was captivating and entertaining. I was rooting for her throughout her investigation and her efforts to track down Milicent's life and death. I was in tears at several points. O'Meara truly did a great service to Milicent in particular, as well as to horror movie fans in general, with this book. I'd love to read more from her!

This was a fun (and surprising) read. I live in Southern California, and my stepfather is a retired special effects makeup artist. He has a number of friends from that industry, and family events are often full of stories about ridiculous sci-fi movies from the 1950s or interesting stories about creating special effects for The Lord of the Rings movies. In fact, one of the highlights of Christmas this year was a gag gift I gave him based on the 1978 Japanese “Star Wars” knock off called Message from Space. I know Creature from the Black Lagoon is a favorite of his—he also loves dinosaurs, and so the reptilian creature suit was a great influence on him when he first saw the movie as a child. So, it was a complete surprise to read this book and realize that I have never heard he or any of his friends mention Millicent Patrick, the Creature’s designer. But, I suppose the fact that I HAVEN’T heard of her is the precise point of this book.

I enjoyed the book—the story was interesting and I loved hearing how the author tracked down the information that she was able to find. I wish it had been slightly less conversational in certain areas—sometimes I noticed the writing/word selection more than I appreciate. But, all in all, it was an interesting story, told well. I am looking forward to the next family event—maybe I can offer some new insight about this favorite story.

Thanks to the publishers and NetGalley for providing me with an advanced reading copy.

I began reading Mallory O’Mara’s THE LADY FROM THE BLACK LAGOON with high hopes. It purported to be the story of Milicent Patrick, a woman who in the early 1950’s became the first woman hired in the Universal Studios make up department to create special effects for their “horror” movies. Patrick was primarily responsible for the creation of the “gill man” creature mask/makeup used for the movie Creature from the Black Lagoon. The “studio big wigs” were so impressed with her creation (it also didn’t hurt that she was a beautiful woman) they sent her on a press tour to promote the movie and her warm reception and the adulation she received greatly angered her boss “Bud Westmore”. Seems Westmore was a little weasel who liked to take personal credit for all his underlings’ accomplishments and proceeded to see to it that Patrick was fired.

Overall, it appears that Milicent Patrick was a bad luck lady…..when it came to her career as well as the men she chose to date and marry. That portion of the book is fairly informative and interesting. What I had a problem with was author O’Meara’s insistence in placing herself in this story as she compares the problems Patrick faced in “white male dominated” Hollywood of the 50’s and 60’s and those she purports to be facing today…over 60 years later. She repeatedly launches into a diatribe covering her own experiences in Hollywood and feels the need to liberally pepper these harangues with four letter epithets.

There was so much personal information about the author----from her unusual hair color and her equally unusual tattoos to her friends, her career and her personal views and opinions that I came away from my reading wondering if this was the biography of Milicent Patrick OR the autobiography of Mallory O’Mara.

Milicent Patrick was one of the most remarkable women working in Hollywood. After being one of Disney’s earliest female animators, she moved her talents onscreen, working primarily as a background extra in many films. She should best be known as the designer of the titular monster in the movie Creature from the Black Lagoon. Yet her contributions have gone largely unknown, stripped from cinema history by a male colleague with an ego. Her life went so underreported that when filmmaker Mallory O’Meara set out to write a biography of Patrick, she wasn’t even sure that she was deceased.

Still, O’Meara persevered, combing libraries, archives, and anywhere else she thought she could find information that would shine light on one of her greatest career influences. The result is a stunning portrait of Hollywood eccentricity. A childhood in world famous Hearst Castle. Cutting edge special effects work for Disney. A design career cut short by a vindictive studio boss. These years are as fascinating as they are tragic.

After her career in Hollywood, a lot of Patrick’s life becomes hazy. There isn’t a lot of documentation or verifiable information. Patrick mostly moved out of the spotlight. However, O’Meara does a fantastic job of offering some theories. She bridges as many gaps as she can, going so far as tracking down and interviewing Patrick’s niece, which offers a trove of previously unpublished knowledge. Still, with so little previous focus on Patrick’s life, there are moments when the narrative feels thin.

But honestly?

That doesn’t matter.

O’Meara’s devotion to Patrick is palpable. Anyone who gets a tattoo of their research subject on their arm might be ‘too close’ to the topic. In this case, that totally works. With all of the gaps in Patrick’s life, she needed someone with an overabundance of love to dig deep and find what answers are available. The result is probably the most complete biographical portrait of Patrick that will ever be available. It’s uplifting to realize that this book represents Patrick finally getting a glimmer of the praise and recognition she deserved in life.

Beyond discussing researching Patrick’s life and career, O'Meara writes extensively about women in the film industry and her own experiences. These sections are particularly effective when juxtaposed against the ‘old’ Hollywood system. Time might have progressed, but many of the attitudes and actions have not.

It’s what makes this book so fascinating and frustrating. The same scrutiny and issues Patrick dealt with in the 1950s are still occurring today. Fortunately, there are individuals like O’Meara working now, highlighting injustices and showcasing credit when it’s due.