Misty Green

The title character has already been through a rise and fall before we even meet Misty Green, a portrait of a fictional actress that illustrates the cruelties of the Hollywood system on its working-class talent.

That’s not exactly new territory, but this showbiz satire from director Chris Rock is consistently compelling and moderately provocative in examining how wide-eyed idealism often leads to disappointment and eventually to desperation in an industry obsessed with age and appearance.

The story opens with a wonderfully tense sequence inside of an upscale apartment, where Misty (Rosalind Eleazar) is awakened by an apoplectic Celine (Amy Landecker), whose late husband owned the unit where Misty has been effectively squatting— and also happened to be one of Misty’s boyfriends.

At first, Celine demands Misty evacuate immediately until she notices her Emmy award on the shelf. So she extends the deadline to a week.

From there, Misty is sent into scramble mode and we learn the background details of her troubled life and career — for which she cynically blames the world but probably should be blaming herself, first and foremost. A possible victim of past trauma, her drug habit is enabled by a sleazy producer (Adam Driver).

Meanwhile, she’s burning bridges with all of the people who could help her career and rehabilitate her image, if that’s what she even wants, from her messy best friend (Anna Kendrick) to a struggling filmmaker (Rock) to her beleaguered agent (Topher Grace).

Then there’s her dangerously bipolar brother (Daniel Kaluuya), who re-enters Misty’s life at the wrong time and wreaks havoc just as she finds a possible path to redemption.

The film spotlights a ferocious breakthrough performance by Eleazar (Rose of Nevada), who generates hard-earned sympathy while balancing Misty’s self-destructive behavior and reckless impulses with the insecurities she tries to conceal.

Rock’s perceptive screenplay doesn’t pass judgment or make excuses. However, it endures some awkward tonal shifts along the way, and some of the plot mechanics feel contrived or heavy-handed.

There are countless Misty Greens out there — drug-addled trainwrecks who have been spit out by a ruthless Hollywood system where the barriers are unfairly exacerbated for women and minorities. Biracial women, in particular, start with two strikes.

Although the film drills that point home without much subtlety, Misty Green is incisive and powerful, even for those on the outside.

Rated R, 103 minutes.