Porno with pizazz

Let's face it - everyone who was in the packed theatre last night in West Hollywood where I caught Paul Shrader's latest delightful descent into dementia (and aren't they all delightful, in his hands) was there for one reason and one reason only: to experience the sheer voyeuristic thrill of watching a one-time famous television star systematically self-destruct in a bleary haze of sordid sexual depravity. It was fun, huh? You gotta admit it - Greg Kinnear as infantile, attention-crazed, porn freak drummer extraordinaire Bob Crane was adorable, wasn't he? The most endearing pervert depicted in film possibly ever, and Willem Dafoe was his perfect counterpart - the ultimate scuzball, gleefully wallowing in sleazebucket slime (with his vtr equipment dangling profusely). Yes, I liked the film, and yes, I think they should all get Oscar nominations. Hail to the Colonel.