Fool’s Paradise

The primary running joke throughout Fool’s Paradise is while its central character cannot speak, those around him can never shut up.

That’s the type of surface-level insight that make this over-the-top skewering of fame and the Hollywood system more exhausting than endearing.

This ambitious if wildly uneven directorial debut and passion project for actor Charlie Day (“It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia”) is a screwball satire about celebrity arrogance, impulsive yes men, and desperate hangers-on that essentially views Tinseltown mayhem and the fickle nature of fame through the equivalent of a throwback silent-film star.

Day plays the unnamed protagonist, a simple-minded mute whose mysterious condition leaves doctors baffled. During a transfer between institutions, he’s swooped up on the street by the producer (Ray Liotta) of a Billy the Kid biopic because he’s a doppelganger for the troubled star.

He winds up on a backlot, filming scenes later that same day, with nobody seeming to care that he can’t recite lines. As a method actor (Adrien Brody) takes him under his wing, another co-star (Kate Beckinsale) seduces him and introduces him to the lifestyle.

“I don’t know why I subject myself to these parties,” she laments. “They’re filled with sycophants and philistines.”

Amid this whirlwind, he’s mistakenly saddled with the name Latte Pronto, gains a desperate publicist sidekick (Ken Jeong) and an agent (Edie Falco), skyrockets to star status he never sought, and endures a public scandal and inevitable downfall.

Some of the insider gags and rapid-fire one-liners are amusing enough, as are Day’s playful slapstick bits in the classic vein of Chaplin or Keaton.

Unfortunately, the film squanders an impressive roster of cameos including Jason Bateman, John Malkovich, Common, and Jason Sudeikis. The cast seems to have more fun with the heightened eccentricities and self-referential material than moviegoers will.

The energetic film stumbles when it tries to be a more heartfelt valentine to cinematic imaginations and showbiz dreams. Because the characters are so abrasive and obnoxious — which might be appropriate — our simple hero becomes the only sympathetic figure by default.

Taking shots at broad targets from familiar angles, the film’s elaborate one-joke premise runs out of steam well before the credits roll. Even if its audacity is admirable, Fool’s Paradise feels too detached from reality — even by Hollywood standards — to make a deeper impact.

Rated R, 97 minutes.