Until the last 40 minutes of Avatar, there's never been a James Cameron aerial battle, all swooping and banking and pew-pew in grand Lucasian style circa 1977. And then he does it, and it is fucking glorious to behold.
It's a depressing notion for aspiring actors that they'll likely not make it in Hollywood. It's an even more depressing notion that a scream has a longer list of acting credits than they ever will.
Mental illness is one of those issues that not even smart people have a good grasp of. So we probably shouldn't be surprised that Hollywood's treatment of it is about as informed and respectful as showing up drunk to a stranger's funeral and crapping in the casket.
