Hollywood was born schizophrenic. For 75 years it has been both a town and a state of mind, an industry and an art form.

Mausoleum air and anguished pauses: If this production were a poem, it would be mostly white space.

[Michael Hastings] has composed a dirge to incompatibility, which, because it raises expectations only to defeat them, leaves a taste of exhumed ashes.

Today is a time of turbulence and stagnation, of threat and promise from a competitor: the magic, omnivorous videocassette recorder (VCR). In other words, it is business as usual.

Hollywood was born schizophrenic. For 75 years it has been both a town and a state of mind, an industry and an art form.

Nothing ages so quickly as yesterday's vision of the future.

It is said that no star is a heroine to her makeup artist.