I know what you’re thinking. Dany, you read another comedian memoir? Yeah, I did.

This time around it was Penny Marshall’s My Mother Was Nuts which opens with the fun story of the modern-era (now deceased) Ms. Marshall’s house being broken into by two young kids dressed as ninjas with samurai swords.

A promising opening.

It definitely grabs your attention. And unlike Wishful Drinking by Carrie Fisher which I read earlier this year, Penny Marshall has a lot to say about her friendship with Carrie Fisher. Carrie must have forgot to mention that while married to Paul Simon she accidentally set up her best, oftentimes oblivious, friend with Art Garfunkel who then went on to keep unwittingly inviting the famously toxic duo to the same places.

That seems to be my overall review of Ms. Marshall. She seems to stumble into being funny.

The book loses some traction midway when Ms. Marshall just begins recounting the details of her career. There’s some interesting facts about Hollywood history, particularly around her directing Big and A League of Their Own, but these are just interesting facts. It becomes almost a list of accomplishments, like she needs to make sure that you know why you’re here. I found the really interesting and insightful parts of the memoir to be just that–when she remembers to talk about herself.

There is a sense that fame and success changed Ms. Marshall, but not in the way it changes anyone else. Instead of becoming big headed or indifferent, she becomes a series of sighs. A long, unending line of ‘and, well, then this happened. What are you gonna do?’