NOT LIVE FROM THE RED CARPET: The UK Premiere of W.

Broadcasting not at all live from the Red Carpet in The London's West End of London, we bring you speculative coverage of the star studded UK premiere of Oliver Stone's Political Hot Potato™, W. (As we are blogging about this in real time from a location nowhere near the premiere, we apologise in advance is the verb tense becomes slightly complex and multilayered towards the end of this (p)review.)

The star studded UK premiere of Oliver Stone's Astonishing Political Megadrama™ W. looks set to have been a stellar affair filled with starry studs of astrological proportions, and will have been no doubt be a galactically significant event in the minds of the sad bastards who gathered around the slightly damp off-red carpet in The London's World Famous Leicester Square (next to the Angus Bar and Grill).

Celebrity stalkers will have been out in force, jostling for space alongside paparazzos, "street performers" and the enthusiastic homeless, as they watch the hot celebrity stars arrive, studded and ready for action.

"Who the hell are you?" they'll no doubt have been shouting as Josh Brolin (son of the much famouser actor James Brolin and stepson to Barbara Streisand, which is pretty weird, no matter how you look at it) arrives.

"Where's the moustache?" they'll be have been are being shouting, as they realise that Josh Brolin's moustache - which made such a hairy splash in No Country for Old Men, American Gangster and The Valley of Elah - will have are not being attending this studded, starred and stud starred affair.

"Get off the carpet, y'fat bastard!" the crowds will no doubt have are been screaming as Oliver Stone pours out of the rented limo under the bright lights and grey drizzly skies of That London, with an apologetic "I just made it up as I went along" shrug.

"We love you, Lisa Bonet!" they'll chant as Thandie Newton runs under cover of many, many umbrellas for the nearest entrance, for fear of drowning under any larger than average droplets, only to slip down a drain en route, such is her startling thinness and delicate nature as an actress.

"Give me some change or I'll take off my pants!" Gary the Homeless was will have possibly may have been and still could possibly be shouting throughout.

In all, it will have been a studded starry gathering of studly stars, overshadowed only slightly by the current economic crisis, the war in Iraq and Afghanistan, global warming and the truly pathetic state of television today (all of which, let's face it, are totally George W Bush's fault).

The film itself will include stunning star studded turns of actorly impressionism, so much so that many in the audience will scream like small children as their feeble brains try to understand how Oliver Stone managed to get cameras into the freaking White House to film all those scenes, man. And when it's all over, they will have been are filing/filed out of the cinema in Leicester Square in London's Magnificent Leicester Square, next to the Leicester Square Tube station and Angus Bar and Grill, in stunned, studded, shocked and starry silence. And it will are might have maybe been good.

Shatner Rating: Denny Crane
Worth a listen? Sure why not? At least it'll make Obama's win all the more sweet...