Quentin, Brad and Leo apparently got together to share their collective midlife crises for the admiring zombies of la la land. The shallow artificiality and preening self-satisfaction of these worn out hollywood dingbats is both awkward and amusing. This aimless, yammering script is completely devoid of the slightest traces of depth, subtlety or nuance. The direction of course is classic Quentin: bombastic, retro-tacky mcmovie kitsch. Worse yet is the shameless profiteering off a hideous crime committed against a pregnant woman and her friend. Which is why this cinematic version of thrown fecal matter is so appropriately titled. Hollywood is the sewer pipe of idiocy and degeneracy to the world. It is the place where taste, class and artistic integrity go to die. Who better to represent it than Q, Brad and Leo, the triune godhead of hollywood vapidity, sanctimony and self-righteousness.