Maps To The Stars

MapstotheStarsposterBB.5

(out of 5)


In David Cronenberg’s Hollywood, incest is not just a way of doing business but a reality at home as well.  A child star () with a drug problem, a therapist () who physically shakes insecurities out of his celeb clients, an emotionally unstable actress () who is trying to reclaim her abusive childhood through remaking her mother’s film, and a burn victim () who shows up with mysterious intentions form the nexus of the ugly situations that follow.  Bird is about to make a sequel to the hit that made him the Haley Joel Osment of Bruce Wagner’s fictional universe, angry about an even younger co-star threatening his career and giving him the kind of insecurities you’d more likely expect in an older actor.  That older actor could be Moore, who in trying to land the lead in a movie that was initially her idea is haunted by the spectre of her dead mother () who reinforces her self-doubt.  Wasikowska shows up out of nowhere and becomes Moore’s assistant, romances a limo driver and aspiring actor () and steps gingerly around the family she left behind in tragedy years earlier, while  is a standout as the stage mother to a volatile prodigy who is completely blind to her own ambition and what destruction it wreaks.  Wagner’s narrative is deliciously acerbic and, in describing the movie business as an animal devouring its own tale, manages moments of incredibly ripe humour.  The various element don’t combine well, however: Bird’s frustration is never convincing and the magic realist moments of dead figures tormenting the living are played without any of the humour reserved for the bitter take on Hollywood fluffheads, and as such are the weakest points of the film.  For a movie with so much plot there’s very little drama actually happening, Cronenberg’s continuing brand of cerebral filmmaking ill-suited to a story that deserves a little more emotional oomph to it, and a lack of connection between characters the result of people behind the camera who have no sympathy or interest in their inner lives.  In short, it doesn’t have the perfectly calibrated wit of The Player or the starry-eyed melancholy of Mulholland Drive, because Altman and Lynch are willing to admit that they are unwisely biting the hand that feeds them and just can’t stop themselves.  The acting is great, though, and the blanched-out cinematography belies the usual idea of glamorous Hollywood by displaying Tinseltown as a collection of bland sidewalks and soulless mansions.


Prospero Pictures, Sentient Entertainment, SBS Productions, Integral Film

Canada/USA/Germany/France, 2014

Directed by 

Screenplay by 

Cinematography by 

Produced by , ,

Music by

Production Design by

Costume Design by

Film Editing by

Cannes Film Festival 2014

Golden Globe Awards 2014

Toronto International Film Festival 2014


MapsToTheStars

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