What a goatfuck, I said.

Denied access to the man himself, he interviews legions of Nicholson's friends, acquaintances and family members; analyzes his movies; and pieces together a detailed, heavily endnoted narrative about the man he calls the Gatsby of Mulholland Drive.

In the street the rattle of carriages could still be heard, women's voices calling farewells and invitations to future dinners and danceables.

His appearance was greeted with an outcry of jeering.