I don’t know exactly what I think about these homages to Alf commissioned by Vanity Fair. It feels like the wrong sort of fun, but fun nonetheless.
And on the subject of dancing on Hitchcock’s grave, this elongated ad for Freixenet in Spain starts off very funny but ends with Marty crapping all over Hitch’s reputation, all the while spraying twice the amount of effluent on himself. Not the most eloquent of analogies but it seems apt. Tut tut. Does Marty really need the moolah?