I've complained before about (auto)biographies that just use straightforward, boring photos of the authors/subjects on the covers. There's no interest or wit in them. Much better is the sort of cover that plays off some characteristic of the subject, or isolates some aspect of them. Here's a perfect case in point, due out in December.
I like this a lot, though if you didn't know who Feldman was, this might suggest he was a serial killer. The cover also wisely leaves off the fact that the book is introduced by Mike Myers, possibly written in broad faux-Scottish.
(It's odd that this first sees print 30 years after Feldman's death: he died during the filming of Yellowbeard, which at least saved him the pain of seeing the final film. If only I'd been as lucky.)