(On Cable TV, January 2021) As someone who will systematically watch any movie about movies, it stands to reason that I would eventually make my way to Maps to the Stars, a Hollywood melodrama that, at least at first, appears to be about the dark underbelly of Hollywood. Director David Cronenberg, in the middle of his realistic period, turns his attention to the twisted tale of a burn victim, a screwed-up child actor, a driver, an actress chasing her dead mother, and an abusive help-help guru… plus the ghosts. So many ghosts: roughly a third of the cast is undead, popping up at various times to discuss matters with the living protagonists. It’s weird all right, but in a restrained way that owes more to incoherent melodrama than to fantastic cinema. While Cronenberg can here benefit from a striking cast (including what is, in retrospect, one of the first movies to show that Robert Pattinson would have a better career than being pigeonholed as a teen heartthrob) and a rich subject matter to treat with his usual cynicism, Maps to the Stars ends up being a substantial disappointment. Despite a wild story that eventually ends up in depraved incestuous abusive territory, my own biggest letdown was realizing how little of the story actually had anything to do with Hollywood or the movie industry: with very little retooling, the story could end up being about tech billionaires, oil magnates or Manhattan financiers without losing much of its third act. It’s about the problems of the rich and screwed up, and Hollywood is more an enabler than the main topic of discussion. Even in leaving that aside, Maps to the Stars does suffers from a lack of tonal unity and narrative coherence: the story flutters from one thing to another in a way that has more to do with TV series plotting than a sustained film. Despite the increasing sex and violence, it doesn’t build to a big satisfying narrative finale—although those who had “sex scene between Pattinson and Julianne Moore” on their movie-watching bingo card should be happy. Mia Wasikowska is curiously underutilized despite a potentially rich role, and the use of fantastic plot devices really doesn’t end up meaning much. I still like some of it—it’s rare for a film to commit so fully to tragic melodrama—, but this is really far from being the best movie possible with those elements. In other words—quirky, intriguing but neither successful nor satisfying. I’ve seen worse this week, but there’s a frustrating amount of unrealized potential in Maps to the Stars.