The Muse

Steven Phillips is a Hollywood screenwriter who has a three picture deal with Paramount. Steven’s smarmy producer looks over his newest script and proceeds to tell the writer that he has "lost his edge." The producer then negates the remainder of the contract. That’s Hollywood, the premise of The Muse, comic genius Albert Brooks’ newest movie.

What is Steven (Brooks) to do? After all, he has a family to support.

In desperation, he turns to Jack (Jeff Bridges), another screenwriter, for advice. Jack says his best ideas have come from a Muse. Steven begs for her identity.

Reluctantly, Jack arranges for a meeting between Steven and his Muse, who is named Sarah (Sharon Stone). She agrees to help Steven with his writer’s block, but it’s going to cost him. Starting with a $1,700 per night suite at the Four Seasons, a stretch limo, and gifts from Tiffany’s, Sarah is proving to be an expensive Muse.

Is the writer wasting his time and money? Humorous cameo appearances by Rob Reiner, Martin Scorsese, and James Cameron, who all visit the Muse for inspiration, suggest not.

Sarah ends up moving into the family home, much to the chagrin of Steven’s wife, Laura (Andie MacDowell). Those two eventually hit it off, however, with Sarah encouraging Laura to merchandise her home-baked cookies. Steven, the guy footing the bill for the Muse’s mounting expenses and serving as her personal errand boy, has yet to receive his inspiration.

Like Bowfinger, The Muse pokes fun at all the obnoxious pretentiousness of Hollywood with the subtlety of a well placed artillery round. There are lots of laughs throughout, although Albert Brooks has been better in other films.

On Friday Tinseltown ran The Muse in its smallest theater. The audience, which I conservatively estimate to be the 35+ crowd, were packed in seats like sardines. When I returned to see another movie on Saturday, the ticket vendor told me the film had been moved to the third largest theater. And why not? The Muse delivers the goods.