A modern Bullshit classic. Jim Carrey plays a caricature of his own enlightened persona while discussing his possession by Andy Kaufman, and by extension, Andy's alternate personalities, during the creation of Man on the Moon; a film which, in and of itself, was supposed to simply be, on the outset, a re-creation! Instead, it became an embodiment, an aggressive spectral death-joke, and a cry for help. There are layers upon layers upon layers to this self-destructive peep-show, one of which is how Kaufman's real-life family members found solace in Andy's "reappearance" within Carrey's body. Haunting, despicable, and truthful beyond the countless fractured mirrors of illusion that are propped up to further jumble one man's history into another. And Carrey's present-day narration regarding the whole scenario, a man eternally tied to character (and now, a complete lack of it, replaced by spiritual existentialist melancholy), provides the final kicker: it's all a show, even this one. Embrace it.