Another abominably self-indulgent monstrosity from the empress of unabashed kitsch and narcissism. What in the world is "The Nails" thinking when she picks these little projects for herself? And why does she have to direct, act, write, sing, do the costumes, the catering and the gaffing? Does she know any limits? No! Which is why this movie has nothing to do with the original story. Instead, it has everything to do with what Streisand hallucinates she is (young, beautiful, greater than female and male combined, limitless) and what she hallucinates the world is about (glory, triumph and more glory). But who cares. I just hope she can keep me laughing, because these turkeys she bakes are so preposterously hilarious there's nothing to match them in the laughs department.