Michael J. Fox, Lucky Man: A Memoir Review: What do you think of when you hear the name Michael J. Fox? Do you remember the charismatic young and rather diminutive lead in Back to The Future? Or the smart and funny comedian of Spin City? Or rather do you picture the Michael J. Fox of September 1998 as he announced to the worlds media that he had the degenerative neurological disease Parkinsons

Me? Well I will confess to having been horrified to witness Fox stutter and twitch his way through that announcement and felt the stinging irony of the ever-youthful looking actor being the victim of the relatively rare "young on-set" version of this debilitating disease.

I do remember thinking that we wouldn't be seeing him in the public eye again...


Yet here we are, with his new paperback autobiography, "Lucky Man" having hit the bookstands some four years later. I had some deep reservations which primarily centred on the idea that it would probably be "schmaltzy". You know, overly sentimental, emotional, cute and generally over-sweetened to be the point of nausea. I knew it was not ghost-written and unusually this worried me in itself - call me a snob but I have little faith in ANY American sit-com star being a good writer: especially one who calls his autobiography "Lucky Man".

I bought it anyway on a whim

Lucky Man is a basically chronological depiction of a fascinating and packed life which can be divided into three main categories:

- The Canadian childhood
- The move to New York to follow the dream of acting, and Fox's final acceptance and success in the worlds of both television and film
- The revelation that he has Parkinsons, a secret that he managed to hide in his work for an amazing seven years, and finally his public announcement, his brain surgery and his subsequent work in spreading public awareness of the disease.

The early years are surprisingly engaging but the real interest begins as Fox looks back at his Hollywood days of hard working and harder drinking with absolute distain, and describes the first tiny cue of what was ahead: it was his restless little finger.

He is candid in his descriptions of first meetings with doctors and neurologists who he could only regard as maniacs when they tell him the truth that he could not face, right through to the trust and absolute faith he has in them ultimately as he lies (necessarily) conscious through his brain surgery.

The reader learns about the effects of L-Dopa and other treatments as Fox masterfully manipulates the drugs so that he can appear calm and untwitching in public and in front of the cameras in an incredible seven years of continued acting, as the symptoms slowly get more and more extreme, and of course, harder to hide.

There isn't any "schmaltz". If anything, much of the book is painfully insightful into the frustrations of this disease, into relationships with medics and relationships with drugs.

Fox is self-deprecating and frustrated by his own emotional response to Parkinsons and his inability to confront it head on or learn to accept it sooner. This is one of the things that make his account so attractive: his gratitude to his psychoanalyst, to his wife, to his son to just about anybody except himself seems credible and charming.

There is however one big hole in Lucky Man and I blame Michael J. Fox for it not one jot. When he describes his wife's reaction and support from the moment he tells her of his diagnosis right through to after his announcement she is simply angelic. She is wonderful, marvellous one might even said saintly.

Whilst it is more than possible for Fox to analyse his own limitations and weaknesses how could he equally do this to his wife and feel happy publishing it for all to read? Of course he couldn't, and he doesn't: so she stays the one-dimensional angelic creature that is all it is possible to paint her. I found this something of a shame but equally saw it as entirely unavoidable.

So our journey takes us to his famous announcement where Fox was to be completely overwhelmed by the interest his story received around the world and the positive manner in which young on-set Parkinsons was considered. Fox had been understandably anxious that he would be received as a freak and outcast, or worse would be the recipient of too much pity and be deeply patronised. This was a defining moment for Fox as he was handled with respect by the media and as he was finally able to embrace the disease that had so much become part of who he is.

Post his announcement Fox has become an important mouthpiece for Parkinsons and young on-set Parkinsons in particular. He has made new friends in a community that he previously didn't even know existed and has importantly used his celebrity, albeit with some reservations, to gain significant funds for research into the disease. These are his proclaimed reasons for calling this memoir "Lucky Man" and I genuinely believe that is how he felt when he mustered the energy of will to pen this work.


Well my verdict overall is a resounding GOOD FOR HIM. It's well written, insightful and honest, which in turn makes it an interesting, charming and actually rather informative read: and you know what else it's not even remotely "schmaltzy."

This paperback version of the autobiography is in all the bookshops at the moment - you'd be hard pressed to miss it. One of the reasons it is flying off the shelves is the interest created by the readings that Michael J Fox did himself for Radio 4.

Published by Ebury Press, the cover price is £6.99 although I bought it from Waterstones a couple of weeks ago with £1 off. If you want to search for a bargain on the internet I'm sure you could do even better: use the ISBN number 0091885671.