Make Love the Bruce Campbell Way

Let’s get this out of the way: Bruce Campbell’s narration is *the* reason to listen to this. He doesn’t just read his memoir—he *embodies* it, slipping between deadpan delivery and manic energy like a seasoned pro (which, of course, he is). The production leans hard into its radio-play conceit, with Campbell’s actor friends voicing everyone from his long-suffering agent to a smug Steven Spielberg. (The bit where Ted Raimi, as the agent, tries to spin *Bubba Ho-Tep* as a career move is comedy gold.) The sound design—complete with fake phone rings and dramatic stings—adds a layer of polish that keeps the gag from feeling gimmicky. That said, the book’s structure can feel uneven. Campbell’s tangents about on-set disasters (like the *Spider-Man* cameo that nearly broke him) are uproarious, but the deeper reflections on fame and aging sometimes get lost in the shuffle. And while the meta humor lands more often than not, a few jokes—like the recurring bit about his ‘method acting’—wear thin by hour five. Still, the pacing is brisk, the insights are sharp (his take on why B-movies matter is surprisingly poignant), and the sheer *joy* of the performance makes it easy to overlook the rough edges. If you love Campbell’s brand of smirky, self-aware charm, this is six hours of pure, unfiltered fun. If you don’t? Well, you’ll at least appreciate the audacity of turning a memoir into a full-cast farce.