It'd be so easy to build a case against Shrink. It's glossy. It's maudlin. It's an L.A. movie about L.A. celebrities and how unhappy they are. It can't find the bottom of the cheese barrel and its deus ex machina will insult your intelligence. Most infuriatingly, it totally works. Kevin Spacey stars as a puffy, scruffy psychologist to the stars who is mired in depression and addiction. (Pot is his primary crutch.) The final 10 minutes are unaccountably cheerful and redemptive, but the preceding 100 are a darkly comical meditation on pain, betrayal, and why it's easier to pass out than to fall asleep. Spacey, as always, is a gloriously understated marvel. (See Movie Times: thestranger.com/film.)