January 22nd, 2008

by Christian De Matteo

Tonight, on my way to a meeting in Manhattan, I received a phone call from my father telling me that, only 20 or so blocks South of me, Heath Ledger had been found dead.

My initial thought was this:  When do we find out this is not true?

I am truly, deeply saddened about this.  As a fan of film, as I know all of you reading this are, and I mean as a major fan of film, it is hard not to love those actors who give us what we want when we go to the movies.  To help take us away, to sweep us up in a purely fictional performance that none-the-less, for the two hours you watch - and sometimes even for days later - feels like the only reality that matters.  Not every actor has this ability to put so much heart and soul into a performance that you grieve for their characters like family, celebrate their characters like your own best friends and walk away feeling enriched, deeper emotionally and thoroughly satisfied.

Heath Ledger had this ability.  He had charisma, loads of it, and when he was the reluctant bad boy in 10 Things I Hate About You, you rooted for him, laughed with him and wanted him to get the girl.  Not in the usual romantic comedy way, but in the way you would for a friend.  In A Knight's Tale he was the epitome of cool and every joust seemed to matter, even if you were watching what was really just a silly, fun fiction.  He brought that to the table.

But it wasn't until Monster's Ball, to this day one of my favorite films, that I truly, truly saw what he could be.  Correction:  What he was.  What he was was an actor, through and through.  A man completely dedicated to his art who brought sometimes more of himself then he could bear to a part so we, movie fans, could be there with him, in a new reality, if only for a few hours.  In Monster's Ball, as Billy Bob Thornton's son he was a magnet.  When he was on the screen, you couldn't help but stare at him, and when he completed his characters arc in the film - oh, and what  a scene - you, like his father, were utterly shell-shocked.  Monster's Ball depends entirely on feeling and understanding a father's deepest possible pain.  Heath made that possible.

And now, I sit here, writing about him in the past tense.  I am truly saddened.  I didn't know him, as such, but I knew him, knew him the way he wanted us to, knew what he wanted to give us, and I accepted it gladly, because when he was doing his thing he was real.  The idea of a gay cowboy movie bothered me, not because I'm a homophobe - I'm not - but because it seemed like an odd genre to do that in.  And yet, when sitting in the theater and watching him run out and practically attack Jake Gyllenhal's character in sheer, Romeo and Juliet glee after having not seen him in too long, I felt it.  He left nothing out.

And perhaps he should have left out just a little.  In an interview with the New York Times recently he told the interviewer he'd been having a hard time sleeping while playing the sociopath Joker for The Dark Knight.  That the performance would haunt him every night, scare him to have to delve into that part of the human psyche.  Not his exact words, mind you, but the gist.  He wasn't comfortable in the id-filled existence of the Joker, but he left nothing out, and went all the way.

As a fan of film I am overwhelmingly depressed.  This was a man who gave everything to his art so his art would excel completely, so we movie fans would have what we came for.  When I heard he'd been cast as the Joker I certainly thought it was an odd choice, but immediately looked forward to it.  Heath could do it.  I knew that.  I'm sure I will be proven right.  But maybe now I wish he hadn't.  Maybe after doing Candy, playing the Joker was too much in a row, too much against his real personality, the stellar father he was reported to be, the man who rarely if ever got into the tabloids for crazy, senseless behavior.  He was a professional, and all indications were that he was also a good man.

And so, what a loss.  A loss to art and a loss to humanity.  Perhaps we will never see his final performance, the excellent sounding Terry Gilliam film he'd been working on.  But we will have the Joker, a part he believed so important he may have sacrificed himself to.  But what else could we have gotten after that?  What would his career have looked like twenty years from now.  What sky-high possibilities lay in his future, what ground-breaking performances... we'll never know.

Here at HUGEReviews, we are all saddened.  We send our dearest wishes and prayers to his parents and siblings.  To his daughter.  To Michelle Williams.  And to ourselves, film fans, art fans, who today lost a 28 year old who dared to give his all to the art.  You will be remembered with deepest fondness and appreciation, Mr. Ledger, and we will treasure all the work you did give us.

The Dark Knight will now be a somber affair, but we will not let that affect us.  We will go and enjoy the film in the way you wanted, your performance in the way you wanted.  And if Heaven is perfection beyond our understanding, I'm sure we'll see you work again.

Thank you.

"The future was a thing that gleamed, the present was so very very good..."
Heath Ledger's "Dan" in the film Candy.