Hollywood has been making movies about movies almost as long as they’ve been making movies. But what’s the appeal of a movie about a movie? Assuming there is one; according to Box Office Mojo, a movie about a movie hasn’t grossed significantly over $100 million in twenty years, and that one had the obvious advantage of offering a glimpse into the marriage of a cartoon bombshell and a rabbit.

But what is it that makes the legitimately great Hollywood movies––the Sunset Boulevards, the Bad and the Beautifuls, the Players –– legitimately great? Maybe at some point, they were able to convincingly offer the illusion that one had been temporarily invited into an inner sanctum, seen the secret lives of stars, given a lesson in how the sausage is made, but today it’s hard to imagine anyone really believing that a given film has the power to blow the lid off the dream factory. The great Hollywood movies do traffic in the illusion of taking the viewer “inside,” but by layering irony, melodrama, and critique, they never fully strip Hollywood of its inherent mystery, which verges on mysticism. Hollywood plays itself best when reinforcing the tenants of its own myth, particularly those involving stars. At the end of a serious film about the movies, even a bone-dry satire like The Player, we’re supposed to walk away remaining a bit mystified as to the way that world works, as if it’s beyond and above both the constraints and the moral codes of “real life.” Old Hollywood reinforced its structuring lies by making movies which pushed the tacit understanding that us mere mortals would be out of our league if ever asked to operate under Hollywood’s dark laws.

What Just Happened? doesn’t feel like a serious film, but that’s not necessarily a reason to not recommend it. The reason to not recommend it is that it has no concept of that sense of mystery, and without it, it feels like there’s nothing at stake. And also, its best joke is the suggestion that Bruce Willis might be concerned with his own artistic integrity. …Read more