The Rake

The Edifier Paul Feig

special thanks to Mark’s Club

Having lived in Los Angeles, plugged into the central nervous system of the Hollywood film industry in my capacity as the assistant to Kathryn Bigelow, I can state with absolute certainty that Paul Feig should not exist. Because, so much wanted a man like Paul Feig to exist that we’ve conjured him out of our collective consciousness. However, a quick check with the tailors at Anderson & Sheppard — where Paul is not just one of their most important clients but, to my mind, the most assured modern master of the British drape since Fred Astaire — confirms his actual existence. And we are all of us the better for it. Those of us who have been edified by Feig’s canon — which includes the uproarious , the hilarious and , the stylish and genre-bending , and the old-school shot from the heart that is — owe him hours of that unfailingly soothing medicine called laughter.

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