# review of cronenberg's maps to the stars
> storm the reality studio and retake the universe
> ~ william s. burroughs
scenario: in which it's possible to judge when someone's been fully accepted into hollywood's cold plastic undead heart when they release a movie that's supposedly critical of it yet - which is in fact merely another celebratory paean to its nakedly vile all consuming evil greatness - a self evident / congratulatory wasteland devoid of everything but anti-life
summary: david cronenberg's maps to the stars reads like a thankfully lost episode of melrose place casually penned by brat easton ellis on ir way to a psychic l.a therapist while high on xanax suppositories; when at the office the therapist continues to nod and pretend to listen to ir inane spiel while skim-watching mulholland drive on ir tablet itself idly dreaming of the wild palms swaying outside
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julianne moore: plays a slightly more desperate clone of same character they did in the (incredible) safe (1995) by todd haynes. when ir oh-so inevitable / risible death (how can you tell? -rob) comes at the gloved hands of wasikowska's character agata you realize this could have been the first scene of the movie and nobody would have minded / equally cared
robert pattinson and olivia williams: are wasted and provide little but useless set decoration
john cusack: simply plays a (truly rough looking) new age version of john cusack with permanent eyeliner - yet paradoxically ey fits right in
mia wasikowska: allegedly the warm little centre around which this bland fiasco revolves does a little with the middling material ey's given - but is really just a blank slate macguffin
evan bird: awesome as a kickable little brat oozing privilege - doing the best onscreen justin bieber impression since the original(tm)
everyone else: just exists - tediously listlessly as though (ironically) in a state of permanent pharmaceutical disassociation
if only maps to the stars had a cool soundtrack by eg. elliot goldenthal and kronos quartet to bolster its consistently flagging narrative
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"it was like a dream.." - good grief
further analyzing maps to the stars
the greatest failure of maps to the stars is (unlike mulholland drive) to provide a feel of the hollywooden. one suggestion is to cut up this movie and show only those scenes without people; intersperse with single frames of the character's reaction shots
also take that poem / mantra / propaganda screed recited by agatha and realize that while it's the key to the whole movie it's also only ±42% as meaningful as your supposed to imagine it is
// republic of bob