Going to work, tonight. I really DO feel better, just still full of snot and crap and the usual anxiety that comes when I have to call off.
Loaded, 'Pray for the Wildcats', onto a zip and watched it on the Gigantic TeeVee Thing, early this morning - STILL, I love this character. From an online review:
"Shatner labors in vain to resonate as a somnambulistic, aging square named Warren Summerfield. Oddly, Shatner's Eldon Tyrell glasses and proto-Eighties clothing could be interpreted as a bold fashion statement ten years ahead of his time, but his boss feels otherwise: "Oh by the way, Warren, you really ought to get rid of those suits. Those little narrow lapels went out with the gray flannels. You gotta get with it, know what I mean?"
The poignancy conveyed by Shatner as a man whose dignity is slowly being stripped away from his soul is riveting, and can be understood by anyone who had to sit through an episode of "Tek War." Lorraine Gary (Mrs. Jaws-5-Sheinberg) portrays the insecure, status-climbing, addicted-to-remodeling wife. Strangely, the granite blocks of stone in the couple's upscale house convey more emotive ability than these two thespians. As cold-fish Warren, Shatner limps through both his withered American Dream and his limburger dialogue with a hang-dog obsequiance."
WELL, RIGHT. "Hang-dog obsequiance" is what he is SUPPOSED to be portraying. Duh. "Somnambulistic, aging square" is what he FINDS himself to be, is forced to SEE himself as, in comparison...However, I disagree with the whole, 'cold fish' thing - Warren has had his passion TAKEN from him. By life. By the immense grand-piano-on-his-back of responsibility; O, I know it well. By his own ambition - which has failed him, in the end. He's had enough of bowing and scraping, and, has tried in vain to get a handle on it and find SOME SORT of release (with Angie Dickinson) and, has admitted to himself that even THAT was wrong, and, well...I don't want to give it away.
"But not before some heavy existentialism delivered in vintage Shatner-speak, nuggets of fool's gold like: "Acid? I almost tried that once." And "Myself? What does that mean? There is no 'myself'. I'm an actor. A man of a thousand faces...I'm not MYSELF anymore. There's...NOTHING in -- the mirror..."
HAY. I *loved* this speech. The, 'Myself' speech. His delivery is so eerily natural, it gives one pause. I'd wager that, at one time, this advertising executive had a whole literal TRUNK of unfinished novels.
So, yeah. SEE it. :)
P.S. He does not, 'labor in vain to resonate', either. He certainly resonated with ME. A lot.
DEVO. ON COLBERT. I DAMN NEAR DIED OF JOY.
LIVE THE DREAM, STEPHEN!