Mia opens her letters with wry humor. Gray notes each for clues of insanity. He is not dealing well with fame, haunted (in his head at least) by incessant fans and media, as well as the memories of the normal life he threw away in order to get famous. Along the way to Gray’s eventual unraveling, Writer-director Adam Goldberg sprinkles some well-timed, insidery observations on entertainment-industry life, from working relationships to the gulf that separates the known from the anonymous, even when they are having a conversation.

But as Gray unravels, so does the plot. The downfall of “I Love Your Work” and so many movies like it is that it’s unsatisfied with modest observations. Each new scene grows more over-filmed and reference-heavy, and you can tell Goldberg is trying to build toward universal ends through highly dramatic means. Gray, forced through some kind of mental wormhole by his own hallucinations, begins to stalk a casual fan (Joshua Jackson), whose girlfriend (Marisa Coughlan) reminds him of one he left behind (Christina Ricci). It’s not long before we’ve left behind everything that was interesting about the movie and are fed up with “Your Work” and its humdrum conclusions. *