Lots of fun stuff in this flick: Paul Rudd's goofiness, Tracey Ullman's cruel torturing of the lovely, yet aging, Michelle Pfeiffer, Saoirse Ronan's pre-Oscar adorableness, Jon Lovitz in a pair of short shorts that should be burned so that he can never wear them again, and, as usual, Heckerling's dead-on skewering of Hollywood's sham-glam lifestyle.
There are no implausible low-brow gags and none of the characters waste any time on the screen. A lot happens in this tight little film and at the end of it, you feel like you've been told a complete, entertaining story, which is a pretty rare thing to see in today's cinemas.
Speaking of which, this movie got shafted. Straight-up. If it had been given a decent post-production life, release, and advertising campaign, it could've put some serious booties in the theater seats and people wouldn't have felt like throwing popcorn and pickles at the screen halfway through it.
This is one of those movies that, unlike most studio-driven, profit-turning garbage pile films today that are filled with hack dialogue and desperate marketing tactics, makes use of a talented cast & crew with the purpose of making a statement (or several, in this case) about the modern world. And you get to laugh plenty before the credits roll.