The third age of Shatner

Another series of Boston Legal has drawn to a close, on New Zealand TV screens, but William Shatner is far from finished, writes Ted Anthony, of AP.

The SUV pulls to an abrupt stop on Ventura Boulevard.

In the middle of the westbound lane is a man in a loud shirt, his body coiled with energy, darting across traffic toward a strip mall.

It's lunchtime. Good sushi is across the street.

And a guy like William Shatner is not about to be stopped by something as mundane as traffic.

Why did William Shatner cross the road? Why has he ever? To see what's out there.

To find out stuff and inhale the universe in his singular Shatnerian way.

It's the story of his life - and the lives of the characters he has breathed, spoken and shouted into existence over a 50-year performing career.

It's the story of Boston Legal bombast Denny Crane, racing to experience all life's pleasures before Alzheimer's drags him toward darkness.

It's the story of James T. Kirk, the wise and womanising starship captain who led a crew of 23rd-century explorers across interstellar backroads.

And it's the story of Shatner himself - a man governed by his passions and interests, a man who crosses new roads every day, gleefully ignoring those who dismiss him and conquering frontiers he never dreamed possible.

A cultural phenomenon who, despite tales of his galactic ego, seems strikingly down-to-earth as he shapes and basks in the third golden age of his career.

"I'm trying to fill the cracks in the bricks that have been written. I'm the mortar," he says.

"That's what an actor should be doing."

Yes, he's been pilloried over the years - perhaps justifiably here and there - for his roundhouse method-actor style, for his primal, all-encompassing Shatnerness.

But being snide about William Shatner is so 1997.

He is 77 now, post-post-ironic, doing precisely what he wants to - and, finally, no longer terrified about making a living.

"Live life like you're gonna die, because you're gonna," he sang a few years ago.

After the brutally honest 2004 album Has Been with Ben Folds, after the Emmy in 2004 and the second Emmy in 2005 and the new autobiography, if you're still stuck parodying Shatner's staccato delivery and making toupée cracks, the joke, friend, is on you.

"Lemurs," William Shatner is explaining through mouthfuls of sushi, "are primitive animals of many varieties."

You name the subject, he's fascinated.

Global warming. Asian soap operas. The sentience of fish. Afghan politics. The turkeys he deep fries in a "multimedia show" every Thanksgiving. And his timeless loves - his wife Elizabeth, his three daughters and his racehorses.

To sit and talk with Shatner over a meal is its own multimedia show.

You start by marvelling about the familiar voice you're hearing.

By and by, you begin paying attention to what he's saying, which is a theme park of topics.

This is a guy who, in his new autobiography Up Till Now, rhapsodises about a petrol station where he found "the finest tyre air I've ever encountered".

He has a conversational style - a cognitive style, even - of starting slowly, navigating his way into a topic and, in the course of a single sentence, transforming from cool introspection to full-on oratory.

This much-scorned, snowballing delivery is the product of a man thinking something through and finding conviction along the way.

With Captain Kirk, it went like this: "Risk - risk is our business. That's what this starship is all about. That's why we're a-board her!"

With Shatner, it goes like this: "We can't wait for something dire to happen before this democracy decides to gird up and fight global warming. We're on . . . a collision course . . . with history!" (This is followed quickly by, "Shall we order something else?")

Shatner has always favoured unusual paths. You don't make an entire horror movie in Esperanto (Incubus, 1964) otherwise.

You don't open an equestrian camp to help disabled Israeli and Arab children get along.

And you certainly don't serenade George Lucas by dancing with stormtroopers while singing a personalised version of My Way.

Let's even put this on the table: William Shatner is vulnerable.

Stop smirking. Do you have the guts to get out there and whisper gently to the public about the night you found your wife dead in your swimming pool?

Do you possess the chops to portray a lawyer who's slowly losing his mind?

Would you record a dramatic reading of Exodus backed by the Arkansas Symphony Orchestra while knowing you'll be heckled by guys who, 40 years later, are still maligning your version of Mr Tambourine Man?

With these choices, Shatner has carved himself a unique place.

Hate him or love him, rarely has an entertainer straddled giggles and glory so adeptly.

And rarely does a performer have three distinct careers, each building on the last: Shatner No 1: I'm a Very Serious Actor.