In Memoriam: Heath Ledger

It's really only the people who have known me well for the last 2 or more years that can really understand how impossible this is for me to write successfully. Everything I've felt regarding Heath Ledger and what he's done for me with his work has been impossible to explain. At least, impossible to explain succinctly. So in the matter fitting post-Brokeback Mountain discussion, this will not be short.

To say I am still in a state of shock doesn't quite begin to express it. To say that I still can't really believe it's true would be an understatement. It feels as though time has stopped; nothing else is happening and no one else exists while my brain is trying to process — not only the event — but how to express how it makes me feel. Things like this don't happen. Young, successful artists don't just drop dead this way. NOT at the height of their career. Or, at least, none have for a while.

I am sitting in silence, in a class about Chicano Theatre, waiting to explode in a mountain of grief for Heath, his daughter, and the world who has lost — potentially — the greatest young Method actor since Marlon Brando. But an explosion doesn't come. The shock is too much. And waiting for the explosion that I know will be a doozy is more frightening than I can say.

Heath Andrew Ledger was born April 4, 1979 in Perth, Australia. His acting career was rather short-lived, breaking out as a star in America in 1999's 10 Things I Hate About You, which has resonated as one of the defining teen comedies of this generation. Everything that followed, though sometimes fluffy (A Knight's Tale) and poorly received (The Four Feathers, The Brothers Grimm), led Heath down a path to an array of vastly different and strikingly emotional roles in some really quality films. The Patriot, Monster's Ball, Lords of Dogtown, Brokeback Mountain, I'm Not There, and, soon, The Dark Knight. These are the roles he'll be remembered for.

That was the obligatory "in the career of..." portion of this post. I certainly couldn't leave out a few basic facts. On to my personal thoughts...

I "met" Heath Ledger in January of 2006. Met certainly isn't the right word, because I didn't introduce myself and there wasn't much talking going on. But I met him, as much as a fan amid an ocean of other fans can meet someone, getting his autograph, taking pictures (see left, with Michelle Williams), and telling him how much his performance had moved me.

The Santa Barbara International Film Festival honored Heath with Breakthrough Performance of the Year at the Lobero Theatre. And I was there, with my dear friend Jessie, to see it. (To read extensively about the event and see all the pictures, go to my old blog here.) It meant something to me, more than I can express. It meant something because Heath Ledger, as Ennis Del Mar in Brokeback Mountain, meant something to me beyond what words can describe.

After seeing Brokeback Mountain during its limited release in LA on December 7, 2005, the molecular makeup of my very being shifted and morphed. I had trouble explaining it then; I have trouble explaining it now. Heath created a character so sad, so lost, so genuine that he entered into my soul and took root there. That is not an attempt at poetry; that is exactly what happened.

His pain and the subtlety of his expression established Heath, in my eyes, as the next Marlon Brando: pained, emotional, struggling, but capable of tapping into a part of the human expression that is beyond most people's reach. When he lost the Best Actor Academy Award to Philip Seymour Hoffman, I felt as though I was the only person who knew it had been a mistake. What Heath had created was so unique, so fragile and so relatable on the most devastating scale that it is undoubtedly one of the greatest original performances in the last 20 years. That is no small task.

I knew then — I felt then — that although he had been brutally snubbed by the Academy, his time would come. He would make another mark on film that defied anything that came before it. He'd done it with Brokeback, he would do it again. I need not even express how terrible the reality of this truly is. It's possible, and likely, that Heath's performance as The Joker in The Dark Knight will be so breath-taking, so original, so mind-blowing that the Academy may recognize it despite his death. That is, of course, not important in the long-run. But in my mind, were he still alive, he would be headed to the Oscars with that performance anyway.

It is early yet. People are still finding out. I think the shock will grow. Hollywood and the world it touches will know and understand what has been lost here. I don't know what happened to Heath. I don't know how sad his life may have been — how anxious or alone or depressed he may have felt. He couldn't hold still, that I knew from seeing him be interviewed live. Sleeping pills, at this time, seem to be the likely culprit, and we'll know more as the days, weeks, months pass.

Is he destined to become this century's James Dean — lost and gone before reaching his full potential? Perhaps. Perhaps not. To me, this echoes River Phoenix (one of the acting loves of my life), who grew and grew, so close to proving a skill beyond any other actor of his time.

Either way, Heath Ledger will be remembered. He may have been young. He may have started as a teen heartthrob. But his performances are nothing to scoff at. Before the age of 29, Heath managed to create several career defining performances, Ennis Del Mar and, likely, The Joker being above and beyond the rest.

To Heath Ledger: You've grabbed and moved my soul in a way that it never will be again. You've shown me what an actor is capable of. You've illustrated the beauty of subtlety, the strength and impact of emotions. You've shown how dedication and creativity could resonate. I'll always wonder what you could have become, and how the world of film will be at a loss without you there.

love, support, and devotion always,
Stacy

(My heart goes out to Matilda Rose, Michelle Williams and all of Heath's family, friends, and fans. Best wishes and deepest condolences to all. God bless.)

Ishmael — Daniel Quinn

The plot is simple: Teacher seeks man. Man finds teacher. Teacher turns out to be a century-old gorilla (Ishmael), who can not only talk, but has deep and powerful insight into Man's destruction of the world and how change is possible.

To pinpoint each aspect of this book that gave me chills or (as Oprah would say) made my brain go "Aha!" or made me cry or anything else that is usually tied to revelation would be impossible. Quinn tells this story in the simplest fashion: a conversation between the two parties. Yet not for a moment is it boring. On the contrary, not only is the dialogue stirring and, oftentimes, quite humorous, the ideas that are presented literally have the power to change the thought-process of the reader's mind.

Our unknown narrator (we'll call him Daniel, as I assume the author sees himself in the protagonist's role) is quite skeptical, yet eager to learn from Ishmael. Though I did not feel as cynical about what was being said by our Teacher, I was oftentimes just as confused. Ishmael is brilliant in that the questions he asks really get you thinking; you have no choice but to play along... and usually, Daniel's confusion helps make Ishmael all the more inciteful — all the more capable of laying out the History of Man in such a way that turns the tables on our own popular, mythological conception of our "place" on Earth.

The progression of knowledge is slow and steady. It builds, and it does so beautifully. Starting with the story of 'civilized' man (whom Ishmael calls "the Takers"), he leads Daniel through "Mother Culture's" teachings that have led man to believe he was meant to rule the Earth. He attempts to illustrate how things came to be this way. And, later, by incorporating the beliefs of "the Leavers" who have learned to live in unison with the world, all that we have been taught to believe is turned upside down.

It may sound overwhelming, and I won't lie: It is. But it is not hard to understand. The ideas presented will seem familiar. You might say to yourself, "I know this already!" (as Daniel often does), but Ishmael forces us to see these well-known assumptions through an entirely different lens; there is no denying that what he says has the power to change the world.

This is revolutionary writing, and nothing I can say here will make that any clearer. This is a story that EVERYONE should read. This is a book I want to send to Oprah and she should have on her Book Club. This is a book that, were the entire world to read it, you would see positive change overnight. This book is not about writing style, it is not about plot, and it isn't even about character. It is about ideas, and ideas that have resonating power behind them. Not everyone will agree with everything that Quinn asserts here. But it will open people's eyes to a World and system of living that — though foreign and difficult, perhaps — is not entirely out of reach.

****½/*****