Woody's rewrite of La Dolce Vita landed with a loud critical thud, and Kenneth Branagh's Woody Allen impression in the lead met with a stunned response. It would have worked better if Ken had the charm to account for the stars receiving him so readily into their entourages, and Melanie Griffiths relaxing him so libidinously, but it's time for a rethink. Celebrity was ahead of its time.
Branagh is a travel writer who splits with his wife Judy Davis and decides to be a screenwriter. He funds himself by freelancing for celebrity mags, which brings him into contact with A-listers, like fashion model Charlize Theron and hell raising actor Leonardo DiCaprio and their periphery of sycophants, publicists, and gofers.
Davis quits being a teacher of medieval fiction to present daytime tv, interviewing B list makeweights like gossip columnists and politicians. While not a profound piece of work, Celebrity does generate enough zeitgeist to work as a final cry for help from a society obsessed with the trivial.
These characters are no more degenerate than the intellectuals of Woody's early period, but they don't aspire to anything more cultural than a rung on the celebrity ladder. They assume fame frees them from personal responsibility. The script is sharp, the many celebrity cameos give the film an attractive gloss and the ending is a doozy.