No, Not An Edwards Sex Tape. Please, No.
Oh, happy friggin' day. A John Edwards sex tape.
"Please god make it stop" comes to mind. But I have a proposal to save us from the horror.
In GRIZZLY MAN, rather than make us, or Timothy Treadwell's ex-girlfriend, listen to the audiotape of Treadwell's death, Herzog listens to it himself on headphones, then tells her to not listen to it and to burn it, and we never hear it because Herzog has class and actual compassion, as long as your name isn't Kinski.
So I say that's the answer: we should make Werner Herzog watch it, and then come out and tell us to bury it in deepest manure and napalm it.
Labels: eww, MAKE IT STOP