“The Muse.” Directed by Albert Brooks. Written by Brooks and Monica Johnson. Running time: 97 minutes. Rating: PG-13.

Just a month after Steve Martin and Eddie Murphy skewered Hollywood in “Bowfinger,” Albert Brooks throws his poison pen into the ring with “The Muse,” a biting, edgy comedy from the writer and director of “Defending Your Life” and “Mother,” which follows a down-on-his-words Hollywood screenwriter (Brooks) and the materialistic muse (Sharon Stone) who’s been hired to get his edge back.

Typical of Brooks, his latest packs a cynical punch. “The Muse” is an insider’s study in how to write sharp dialogue that hits way below the belt. (Sample line: “Daddy, what’s a humanitarian?” “It’s someone who’s never won the Oscar, dear.”)

But what’s missing here is focus. The film starts well, but eventually gets lost in its own flamboyance. Perhaps Brooks was having so much fun directing Stone and parading out Martin Scorsese, Rob Reiner and James Cameron in witty cameos, that he forgot his film was supposed to have a point: What does the muse mean to the person seeking inspiration?

It may surprise some that Sam Raimi’s baseball movie, “For Love of the Game,” answers that question better.

Grade: B-

“Blue Streak.” Directed by Les Mayfield. Written by Michael Berry, John Blumenthal and Steve Carpenter. Running time: 93 minutes. Rating: PG-13.

It’s difficult to say which event is worse — the coma Martin Lawrence slipped into after collapsing in Los Angeles while jogging in 100-degree heat, or the release of his latest film, “Blue Streak,” which collapses on screen after turning blue from a formula seen too many times before in better films (“48HRS.,” “Lethal Weapon,” “Beverly Hills Cop”).

The film, which took three screenwriters to shackle, features Lawrence as Miles Logan, a burglar who bumbles a diamond heist, spends two years in prison because of it, and then, when released, goes back to reclaim the $17 million diamond he hid in a building’s air duct.

The problem? That building has since become a police precinct, which immediately puts “Blue Streak” on a red-hot course of predictability: Martin will eventually pose as a police detective to get that diamond back. No surprise there, but what truly harms the film is director Les Mayfield’s decision to pair Martin with the dull and expressionless Luke Wilson. These two just aren’t interesting.

The film isn’t as bad as the recent “Chill Factor,” another buddy movie that posed as an action-comedy, but it’s far worse than anything Eddie Murphy did in “48HRS.” and “Beverly Hills Cop.” The difference? Murphy has the gift of talent, Martin the lesser gift of mimicry. Talent can spark even the worst films; mimicry, when overdone, can only sink them further.

Such is the case with “Blue Streak,” a cop-out of a film that takes down audiences with Martin’s unrelenting impersonation of Eddie Murphy. Grade: D

Christopher Smith is the Bangor Daily News Film Critic. His reviews appear each Monday and Thursday in the NEWS, each Tuesday and Thursday on WLBZ’s “News Center 5:30 Today” and “News Center Tonight,” and each Saturday and Sunday on WCSH’s statewide “Morning Report.”