The Last of a Great Thespian

and unrepentant drunk. Yes, this was the last screen incarnation of Skelton Knaggs, he of the rancid face and even more rancoid liver. He did not live to see the release of this semi-uproarious Fritz Lang bashswackler. He did not even utter a single word. Suffice to say, the cinema sucked him dry and left him on the far beach head of oblivion there to become even more obscure in the fading twilight of no known stardom. Such is the case with those the camera makes even uglier. In his short time, some of us loved him and alas as of the release of this, we saw him no more.

Let it be unsaid: insignificance is the locus of true increpation.