In his recent review of Young Adult, J.R. Jones noted “the movie suffers from the sort of self-pitying fog that can envelop a writer when he dives into his own malaise.” This fog is nothing new, of course: Henry Jaglom’s been lost in it for decades. But that’s not say there’s no great art on the theme of a writer’s malaise, as evidenced by Samuel Taylor Coleridge’s “Letter to Sara Hutchinson,” Philip Roth’s Zuckerman books, or this lesser-known Satyajit Ray feature about a disaffected screenwriter.