Dear God.
I just got an email that has to be the most ironic thing I've ever seen.
Seriously. This is beyond irony. Irony looks at this email and says, "Dude, you win."
A little background:
A few months ago, an anonymous reader thoughtfully signed me up for the William Shatner DVD Club newsletter. Now, if this club were simply a place to purchase William Shatner movies, it would be magic enough. But there's more. Much more.
In addition to hawking Criterion editions of The Wrath of Khan, Mr. Shatner also reviews new films from time to time. And really, who better?
Who better to comment on subtle nuance and character development, shading and dimensionalization? No one, that's who. And certainly not that hack Nimoy.
Yes, William Shatner is the new James Lipton. But with a less obvious hairpiece.
So I think you can imagine my delight when I opened up my email this evening and saw the subject of his most recent review. Click on the thumbnail on the left to see a larger image.
Fantastic, don't you think? This may be the most tasteful thing he could review, with the possible exception of that indy classic, "My Wife Nerine Drowned in The Pool and I Don't Seem All That Bent Out Of Shape About It."
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