A sore collection of grotesques, Nathanael West’s 1939 novella is brilliantly drawn but hard to like. The movie is basically the same. Gunning for epic status, it looks only at one part of the “apocalypse” in 1930s Hollywood — the freaks on the fringe — and the main character is a jerk to whom life is but a sad boring joke. De-glamorization has to be juxtaposed, and the filmmakers can’t handle the original author’s tone. A miss.
Joe Keaton
Weird tales for the late crowd. And riffs on pop culture.
