Insanity gets you money to spend on even more insanity. This appears to be the equation that reflects the nature of the beast residing under the infamous Hollywood sign. It is also the equation that ensures a steady flow of that fascinating product you cannot get enough from. We shouldn't question it too often. Let it run this town in doing what it has done best for the last eighty years or so. And if do you question it, do the only sensible thing possible: make tremendous fun of it. Robert Altman did just that in "The Player"; the same goes for Arthur Hiller in "Burn Hollywood Burn: an Alan Smithee Film". While the former was another multiplot, multicharacter masterpiece that indeed did show the very nature of the beast and the latter too much incrowd tongue-in-cheek to be appreciated by the average viewer, with "The Muse" Albert Brooks managed to deliver a relatively small but hilarious film that looks at, frowns upon, wonders at and then declares terminally insane the world these characters inhabit. Playing a screenwriter who comes to a point in his career where he has lost his "edge" and stumbles upon a rather miraculous woman claiming to be a genuine muse, he basically does the thing Ben Stiller is now making buckets of money out of, playing a no-nonsense, do-goody schmuck who does not understand a bit of, but has no choice but to ride the lightning of circumstance. What I found was depicted rather well was the credibility of this insane world: an actual muse straight down from the Greek gods providing inspiration to the deprived (but rather wealthy) who, although demanding outrageous conditions, is revered by the elite of the Hollywood industry, because she, well, inspires. You think I'm kidding? Had the makers of "Blair Witch Project" decided they should make a mockumentary on this, I would have bet good money people all over this town would be begging their agent to get her number. The cast of this movie clearly had a great time doing this one. Apart from the numerous cameos of rather famous directors and actors, I reckon it must indeed have been fun for these people to have a go at their "workplace". As previously stated, Brooks is great and there's rather funny supporting roles for Jeff Bridges and Andy MacDowell. What is not supported as always is Sharon Stone's chest, who actually does a great job as the very out-there muse and, although non-nude throughout the movie (welllllll, almost) still doesn't need a bra (or silicones). This is not a brilliant movie, it's not even great, it certainly isn't anything like The Player, but put down a couple of bucks in your videostore and what you'll get is just a plain hilarious comedy, sharp and witty, courtesy of Brooks delivering his own script under his own direction. And if you are wondering about the title of this little review, look out for the party scene shot in Hollywood's most famous restaurant "Spago's", during which Brooks' character is trying to explain to someone what it is he does for a living. Promise me that in the unlikely event you totally hate this movie, you will wait for this sequence. It had me rolling off my couch with laughter. The stuff of legend. Or rather, that's what I would have said had I lived under the Hollywood sign.
