Is this a comment on the nature of film itself -- simply a series of flickering images that masquerades as a real-time re-presentation of reality? Furthermore, it is the masquerading of the Sunset Strip as the stuff of Hollywood dreams, when in fact the street is rather drab. This calls to mind Billy Wilder's masterpiece Sunset Blvd. (1951): the delusion/illusion of Hollywood, the everyday experiences of those that live there, how dreams are destroyed daily on the Strip, and all of this presented in a neo-Expressionist noir format -- an uneasy combination of Truth and Fiction.
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