I knew little about the film and was honestly a little disappointed, and a little angry by the end. I did my first play in middle school in 1960, went into college theatre teaching, especially theatre and social justice, and have never been fond of theatre/film being about itself. So many films in the 30's about "the theatah", as if that's the only thing writers and directors understood. Which is probably right. I'm still unhappy with Chorus Line. But this one. If we're looking for new directions from the 1960's, Quentin, how about going to the six months from September 1964 to February 1965 and stop that friggin' war? That truly mattered and we're still suffering from it. Indeed, if you're going to make a film about "the end of the great era of films" (Quentin's determination, of course), why not make it about "the beginning of a great era of film" and black people finally getting some screen time in the early 70's -- Shaft, Super Fly, Lady Sings the Blues. And flashback to the magnificent Raisin in the Sun in 1961. Could Quentin's memory film have been any whiter? I'm very white but have earned black blood in my veins. So, too much white privileged navel gazing for me. Others may have a different experience. Which is probably the case.