Hey, am I crazy or has Alec Baldwin been the most consistently entertaining enterainer of autumn 2006? I mean, he’s always been an interesting presence. He survived his encounter with leading-man syndrome, even weathered his brush with superherodom, and finally jettisoned his vanity and fully embraced his inner heavy. He grew up and out, and turned into the fascinating monster you see in The Departed and 30 Rock (pictured). Guy doesn’t even have to raise his voice anymore. It’s all a low roll of thunder. He’s like some outer-borough Black Irish hybrid of Robert Mitchum and John Huston.
(I haven’t seen Running With Scissors or early screenings of The Good Shepherd, but I’m betting The Greatest of Baldwins acquits himself admirably. Also: What gives, YouTubers? No Baldwin clips from The Cooler, his near-Oscar moment? The ‘Tube ain’t dead yet, folks: Infringe like the wind, while you still can!)
I guess what I’m saying is: I’d like Alec Baldwin to come to my house and tell me I’m not man enough to sell real estate. With this in mind, Alec Baldwin, I have left my keys under your mat. Yes, your mat, Alec Baldwin. Not mine. This is the highest honor I can bestow without additional funding.