Michael Sauter
February 15, 2000 AT 05:00 AM EST

Albert Brooks’ latest underappreciated gem, The Muse, is at once a subtly snide Hollywood satire, a painfully funny midlife-crisis comedy, and a showcase for Sharon Stone’s sillier side. Playing a muse who deigns to help a screenwriter (Brooks) who’s lost his ”edge,” Stone flits around in foofy loungewear, treating her client like a personal servant; she even complains she can’t sleep because ”the walls are too bright.” As diva routines go, it’s as light as a marabou feather.

Reel Goodies ”I just don’t see you going back to the water anytime soon,” the muse tells a humble James Cameron, who has come seeking her approval for a ”Titanic” sequel. The Last Detail Paramount Pictures, where Brooks had a deal, passed on this project. Guess which big, bad studio dumps the scriptwriter in this film?

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