As a college student hoping for a career in the "glamorous world of magazine publishing" back in the '80s, I was captivated by Jay McInerney's 1984 novel Bright Lights, Big City, which depicts that world but tears away most of the glamour. Still, it made New York seem tremendously exciting.

The 1988 cinematic version doesn't quite measure up. McInerney may have aspired to be the F. Scott Fitzgerald of his time, the movie suffers from the same fate as the Robert Redford version of The Great Gatsby: miscasting.

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