Midway through Jay Kelly , George Clooney stares into the mirror of a train bathroom and repeats his own name. Occasionally, he swaps in “Robert De Niro” or “Cary Grant.” It’s absurd and intimate at once: an actor performing self-recognition like it’s a lost art. But in truth, Hollywood has been doing this number for a century. Every few decades, the industry catches its reflection and decides to make it art.

In 1932, What Price Hollywood? introduced the original toxic fairytale: a waitress becomes a star, her mentor collapses, and everyone calls it destiny. Two years later, A Star Is Born sealed the formula. Success became sacrament, ruin became side effect. It was Hollywood warning us about itself with the subtlety of a Cartier ad: “Fame might destroy you, but look how divin

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