No.418

THE LAST MOVIE STAR:

Where have all the movie stars gone? Seems like only yesterday we were spoilt for choice with a plethora of craggy-faced, chain-smoking, balding, alcoholic nut-bags who could churn out sensational performances in even the schlockiest of Euro-sleaze. 

Over the last few decades, these majestic beasts have been replaced by a charm-free mixture of weaselly-faced boys, muscular freakshows and men named Chris who all look the same, all earning outrageous bundles of cash for simply strutting around greenscreens and delivering naff quips. 

Luckily, this well-dressed protagonist is here to fill the charisma vacuum. Alright, he may be on his fifth marriage and his drunk and disorderly convictions may make him a regular fixture in the tabloids, but at least he’s given us some stellar performances in such esteemed films as The Gunman Shoots Thrice (directed by Italian crap merchant Enzo Castalari), Death’s Icy Slap (directed by pornographer Brad Beckett, in a middling bid for mainstream recognition) and Garçons Innocents et Sorcières Dégoûtantes (directed by arthouse darling Monsieur V). 

What do you mean you’ve never heard of them?