Here's a poster that never fails to give me a chuckle as I pass it on the way to my local train station.
It's the perfect illustration of the law that the self-regard of any film increases in direct inverse proportion to its ability to justify it. In other words: those with the silliest voices shout the loudest. (This is know as Herzlinger's Law, named after Ivan Herzlinger, whose seminal study Techniques By Which Modern Hollywood Prats About is available in ten volumes from the University of Frankfurt Press; come after 10.30 and ask for Steve.)
With Herzlinger's law fresh in your minds, look again at this poster.
Look at the two men. Look at Leo, kitted out for action with sunglasses and a light dusting of what in his more fanciful moments he presumably takes for facial hair. Best of all, gaze in awe at that blurred left hand - he's so fast no camera can do him justice!
Look at him pointing his toy gun. If he was holding a feather duster he wouldn't look sillier. He might even look less silly.
And does anyone seriously think that either of this pair has earned the right to use their surname only? That anyone - even the guy's biggest fan - has ever once in their lives referred to Russell Crowe as 'Crowe' in any context other than that of a paragraph in which his full name has been mentioned once already?
When did you hear someone excitedly announce that there was a new Crowe movie coming out?
Send Junior to your parents, honey, Crowe's got a new one playing downtown.
Gable, yes. Karloff, yes. Dietrich, yes. Bogart, yes. Ruggles, yes. Even Brando, yes. But Crowe?