You...will...be.
Name Assessment
We've wanted to audit William Shatner for a while, but here's the problem: which William Shatner? Shatner, the early charmer with a talent for frantic paranoia, as evidenced by his sweaty, twitchy star turn in the famous 1963 Twilight Zone episode, "Nightmare at 20,000 Feet"? Or Breakout Shatner, the dashing J. Tiberius Kirk, captain of the starship Enterprise? Or Late-Kirk Shatner, with his smirk, his corset, his boner, his wandering eye?
Or how about Kitsch Shatner, when he gamely slid across car hoods as T.J. Hooker, with Adrian Zmed and Heather Locklear in tow? Or Shatner Redux, in the early, good Star Trek movies, screaming skyward, shaking his fists, the corset only slightly more generous, the toupee only slightly askew, giving us the most immortal of immortal quotes: "Khaaaaaaaan!"
Or Ironic Shatner, spoofing himself in Airplane II? Or Literary Shatner, cashing in with a series of TekWar books? Or Wink-Wink Shatner, crooning in Priceline commercials? Or how about the early, earnest Singing Shatner, be-bopping through Tambourine Man? Or the latter, I-get-it-now Shatner, duetting with Ben Folds? Or Buoyant Shatner, now appearing on Boston Legal? Now winning an Emmy! Now winning a Golden Globe!
So many Shatners. So much Shatner. So much Shatner love.
Most stars are lucky to have a three-phase career: young heartthrob; blowsy superstar; Austin Powers cameo. Or some careers play out this way: heartthrob; handshakes; U.S. President.
By that yardstick, Shatner's had ten careers. He's had twenty. He's had entire careers before breakfast. You could tell your life story twice in the time it would take him to tell the story about that one time he pantsed DeForrest Kelley. Shatner has conquered. He was cool, then he was nerd-cool, then he was kitsch, then he was kitsch-cool, then he was knowing-wink cool, then just plain cool again, and now he's something better than cool. He made himself a punchline with such debonair cunning that -- guess what? -- the man is not a punchline anymore.
When the world zigs, he zags. When the world zags, he zigs. When the world zigs back, he records an album with Ben Folds. When the world chuckles, he pantses the world.
Some celebrities think they've got this whole image thing figured out, they can have fun with it, and they can make it their bitch. Sure, we like John Malkovich, and, sure, we thought it was cool and funny when he starred in Being John Malkovich. But for William Shatner, every day is Being William Shatner. Some celebrities get it, but Shatner so thoroughly gets it that "it" no longer exists. He's consumed "it." He's crawled up inside celebrity and made it explode, the way that Neo finally crawls into Agent Smith and makes him explode. (Uh, sorry -- Matrix spoiler, for all you Amish out there.)
As a result, Shatner is so damned awesome, so abundantly unexpected, so fucking necessary, he's practically Biblical. It would be an insult to Shatner to compare him to some other celebrity and suggest they are equivalents. There's only one other celebrity who comes to mind as being even one iota as cool as Shatner, in the way that Shatner is cool, and that's Leslie Nielsen. And the only way that Leslie Nielsen could ever be even remotely as cool as Shatner is if he'd spent the first half of his career flying around the cosmos banging space broads on Styrofoam rocks.
By the way, Shatner and Nielsen are both Canadian.
Damn, Shatner, you're making our teeth ache, you suave bastard.