But Murphy's latest movie, Bowfinger, isn't really an Eddie Murphy movie. He may have a starring role, but Bowfinger is a Steve Martin movie in the lovable tradition of L.A. Story, Martin's sweet-natured, surreal satire on California life. Even so, Murphy's talents get a chance to shine, and the tone of the film isn't all that different from his other recent ventures.

The left coast hasn't gotten any more logical since 1991, when Martin wrote himself the part of a weatherman who tapes his forecasts in advance and talks to electronic highway-advisory signs. In his return to La-La Land, he plays a would-be producer named Bowfinger who's going to make an action movie starring actor Kit Ramsey (Murphy), whether Ramsey knows it or not. Murphy plays a dual role, as Ramsey and his errand-boy double, and delivers a perfect spoof of his own stardom.

The usual Hollywood satire is bitter at its core, portraying stars, producers, and studio execs as venal (or at best, stupid) slimeballs out to stomp on artists' tender dreams--think The Player or The Big Picture. But what gives Bowfinger its surprising appeal is Martin's conviction that the system is full of naive, trusting people who just want to make magic up there on the screen. Bowfinger, his accountant-slash-screenwriter, his corn-fed female lead, and his crew of Mexican illegals dream of entertaining the world with their tale of waterborne aliens, Chubby Rain. Even Ramsey, a million-megawatt action star with all the trimmings, doesn't come across as a money-loving jerk. As his counselors at Mind Head (a Scientology-like group) remind him, he's only trying to "keep it together" in the face of paranoia and delusion. The only villain in the piece is Terence Stamp as a Mind Head leader with a celebrity meal ticket.