Tuesday, January 13, 2009

Editorial: Another Candle in the Wind, Gone at the Top of His Game.

On Sunday night, Heath Ledger won the Golden Globe for Best Supporting Actor for his unforgettable role as the Joker in "The Dark Knight." He received the night's first standing ovation, and the film's director Christopher Nolan, accepted the posthumous award on Ledger's behalf.

When Ledger died last January from an accidental overdose on medication, I was unusually shaken by it. Perhaps it was his youth, or more likely my anticipation in seeing the most anticipated film of the year in my eyes, "The Dark Knight." Earlier that December, I went to see "I Am Legend" in IMAX just to get a glimpse of the first 6 minutes of "The Dark Knight" which was being promoted with it. You only saw Ledger for all of 10 or 20 seconds, but the anticipation was boiling over nearly 7 months before the film was due in theaters that July.

I don't recall how I got the news; I remember being at work, scouring CNN's website for information, at first thinking it was a hoax for whatever reason. I think my brother was the first person I told about it, as I knew his anticipation for Ledger's upcoming film was as heightened as mine. I got home in a daze, and watched various news networks for several hours, the most stunning sight was seeing the medical staffers take his body out of his apartment building where people had already flocked to. I can't compare it to the assassination of John Lennon in 1980, but seeing the images over the years of fans flocked outside of his home in the Dakota Building also in New York City, came to mind.

The last time I remember being this moved or stirred by the passing of a celebrity was when I was around my 14th birthday in 1997, when I heard in the car on the radio that Chris Farley had died of a heroin overdose, also ironically in New York. I remember it somewhat vividly now, it was Christmastime, it was on z-100 (back when I still listened to that station) and Adam Sandler's "Hanukkah Song" had just played. It felt like a cold dose of reality, or queasy feeling, not so much a punch to the stomach, but a feeling of unease, that these people I idolized on the silver screen were just as fragile as you or me.

Last January, I was revisited by this feeling, having been a fan of Ledger's work in "The Patriot," "Brokeback Mountain," and remembering the first film I ever saw him in, "10 Things I Hate About You." Here was our generation's James Dean, a tremendous talent, who we would never see come to his fullest potential, a sad casualty to the perils of celebrity and a life cut short.
Then, I saw "The Dark Knight" in IMAX on opening night, actually at the 3AM show with my brother since the midnight shows were long sold out. The crowd was buzzing, and one would have thought it was an 8PM showing, giving no hint other than checking your watch for the time that you could be labeled certifiably insane for seeing a film during the middle of the week 3 hours before the sun was due to come up.

I remember the feeling of the film, that opening sequence, the crowd cheering at the first glimpse of the Joker. Ledger became this character, as I had no recollection or memory of his death for the entire 2 and a half hours of the film. The sign of a brilliant actor, a performer who comes along only a few times in each generation that really changes the way you look at films; someone who raises the bar so high that you don't know if there's anywhere for it to go but down from that moment forward. I'm sure the colossal IMAX screen added to this effect, but I believe it would have been the same feeling regardless. An exhilarating witness of a great story onscreen, portrayed by an actor at his best, helping to redefine the comic book film genre. It started with the first film, "Batman Begins," but major awards buzz already surrounded the film, guiding this ship of a genre down a completely different path.

Then, as some of the crowd lingered during the credits, as my brother and I almost always do whenever we see films together, the first return to reality came with the dedication to Ledger and the stunt man who died during filming. The ride home and next few days were filled with excitement, remorse for what could have been, more excitement, and wondering if a film could get any better than that. We went into the theater in the dead of night, and emerged after 6 AM with the sun up, a surreal experience, fitting for this epic motion picture event. The daze of fatigue and deep thought, and disorientation engulfed us.

I returned to the theater 2 more times to see "The Dark Knight," once the next day, the official opening Friday, and again a few weeks later, to see it again on IMAX. Each time, for those 2 and a half hours, I was removed from the sad reality outside the theater doors, that Heath Ledger's swan song was playing out right before our eyes in that dark theater. But that's what great actors and great films do; they take you away from the world outside for a few hours, away from worries of families, economic crisis, relationships, education, work, and whatever else sits in the back of your mind on a daily basis. Heath Ledger accomplished this in his films, most notably "The Dark Knight," but now, part of the realities of the world outside the cinema, was that he was no longer here.

I came back to these memories today, when reading a post on slashfilm.com recalling this same sentiment, that compiled a list of the greatest final performances by actors prior their deaths, some timely, some untimely. Ledger made this list along with other cinema legends including John Wayne, Greta Garbo, James Dean, and Henry Fonda, and rightfully so. This sad tribute during awards season will hopefully continue with the Oscars, which he most certainly should be at least nominated for in the coming months.

Ledger has one more film yet to be released, "The Imaginarium of Dr. Parnassus," directed by Terry Gilliam, whom he also worked with on "The Brothers Grimm" a few years back. Ledger's work was not finished on that film as he was still working on it at the time of his death, leaving "The Dark Knight" as his last complete film. The fantasy based story left his character the openness to be portrayed in different forms by different people. Therefore, his part has since been taken over by Johnny Depp, Jude Law, and Collin Farrell, all of whom are donating their wages to start a trust fund for the young daughter Ledger left behind.