It may be the first movie that mirrors, in its very syntax, the ''snap crackle and pop'' narcotic superficiality of the E! channel. I mean that as a compliment.

Every so often, a movie comes along that is so bad, so unfunny, so incredibly awful that it redefines how you think about film. Stardom is just such a movie.

What makes it interesting is the story that the viewer must put together, of a model who lives her entire life -- or at least what we see of it -- in front of the camera.

In Arcand's skilled hands, this sassy assembly comes together to be a comedy, a satire and a character study that's somehow not a bit condescending.

A naughtily funny, skin-deep satire.

In his observant, swiftly paced Stardom, Arcand does it all with relentless wit, high style, and a suggestion of tragedy.

Denys Arcand has satiric fun with the media's way of taking celebrity culture at face value and nothing but. Eventually, though, the film becomes what it's ridiculing.

For all the film's cleverness -- and it's often very clever -- it's as thin as its heroine.

This film has so many good ideas, it tends to seem better after you've left the theater. But the mock TV stuff is just too faux to be funny.

A glitzy and shallow satire about shallow people.

Takes us down a familiar path without discovering anything new along the way.

With Woody Allen's "Celebrity," Altman's "Prêt-à-Porter" and MTV's "House of Style" predating it by half a decade, this is kind of like clubbing harp seals in a meat locker.

What keeps Stardom watchable is Arcand's droll humor.

Through a messy series of news reports, interviews, talk shows, and behind-the-scenes footage, Arcand creates a cinema vérité spoof that's not nearly as penetrating or enjoyable as he thinks.