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The “shameless” but “happy” lies on which Kurt Vonnegut based a whole religion in Cat’s Cradle also aptly describe Hollywood’s averted-gaze take on its own hideous behavior. Perhaps this explains why New Suit—ostensibly yet another satire of Hollywood mores—is as gentle a fable as “The Emperor’s New Clothes,” the one upon which it’s based. Frustrated at the rampant one-upmanship lying he finds in Tinseltown, likable young screenwriter Kevin (Jordan Bridges) makes up a supposedly brilliant script—which at one point is tabbed “T3 for kids”—and its fake writer. Soon, the entire town is convulsed over the script and the imaginary genius—to the point of boasting that they’ve met him or dated him. Even Kevin’s girlfriend, Marianne (Marisa Coughlan), uses his “contact” to advance her career, and as Kevin belatedly tries to rein in the joke by telling the truth, he gets labeled a liar. One might think that French director François Velle would take an even more cynical view of these American shenanigans, but although Velle manages to sidestep a too-happy ending, New Suit offers more shrug than bite, content to ride shotgun through a world where executives get away with misquoting Sun Tzu or saying “It’s all about Gstaad” to slatheringly officious underlings just waiting for their turn. More whimsical than The Player but without the brutality of Swimming With Sharks, New Suit still offers a fun, schadenfreude-fueled ride, especially when a foaming, tyrannical producer (Dan Hedaya) and a Jeffrey Katzenberg-esque, feng shui-obsessed studio chief (Paul McCrane) both get and don’t get theirs. Suit, which presents its unattractive attractive people in gorgeously glowing sunset tones, was shot (and is being screened) in a high-definition digital video that’s barely distinguishable from film—whose death may come sooner than expected. Betcha Hollywood’s suits won’t behave any better after the transition. —Dave Nuttycombe