Hallstrom has spent far too long in the doldrums of airy prestige pictures, and his last effort to be whimsical, 2005's Casanova, was a bit of a mess. But here he strikes the right balance between humor and introspection, delving into Irving's simultaneous narcissism and self-loathing while keeping the absurdity of the situation constantly apparent. He's helped by Gere's enthusiastic performance, and solid supporting turns from Molina and Harden, Davis and Julie Delpy as the women in Irving's life.
There's a bit of overreaching for political relevance and some dodgy magic realism toward the end, but as an exploration of another way that Hughes inspired (or enabled) a peculiarly American mania, the film rarely misses its mark.