So, Heath Ledger died. The news came to me via text message: “RIP
Heath Ledger!” My first assumption was, “He must have signed on for
some really awful movie, like Snakes on a Plane 2: Oh No They
Didn’t, and that text message means ‘RIP his career.'” Obviously,
right? But later, another text: “How could Ledge be deceased when
Bonaduce is roaming around town with steroids for blood?” Holy shit.
It’s true. (Also, good point.)
Then there was the tabloid frenzy—the photos of his body being
wheeled out of the apartment—and the wild speculation, and the
misdirected gay bashing (“Well, he found out how to quit you!”).
The whole thing was so jarring—and surprisingly
heartbreaking—because, not only was Ledger not on anyone’s
list of celebrities-we-expect-to-die-young (Winehouse!), he was barely
even in the public consciousness for anything outside his career.
Barring the occasional “Stars: They’re Just Like Us!” item (they
wear floppy hats while pushing strollers around Brooklyn!), we
didn’t gossip about him, we didn’t obsess over him, we didn’t rip him
to shreds in the press. He was nothing to us but a really, really great
actor.
The next day, while talking with an acquaintance, I mentioned my
original “career suicide” hypothesis. She smiled and did one of
those fake coughs (by the way, that joke is more deceased
than Ledger) that sounded like “BROKEBACK MOUNTAIN!”
Now, perhaps my acquaintance, who is very sweet, has some sincere
stylistic criticisms of Brokeback Mountain. But for the rest of
you Brokeback Mountain jokers past, present, and future…
REALLY? Have any of you ever SEEN Brokeback Mountain? Are you
telling me that you watched it and didn’t have your heart
shattered into several hundred jagged pieces, because all you could
think about was “Eew”? Or maybe it caused you to feel some actual
human compassion for some gross gay dudes, and that freaked you out
because you thought maybe it made YOU a little bit gay, and maybe the
next obligatory step involved six pomegranate razzle-tinis and
your butt?
As a lady who spends most of her time watching bad actors in bad
movies, good actors acting badly in bad movies, and nonactors acting
desperate on reality TV, it’s such a relief and a revelation when an
actor is good at his job. Heath Ledger was stunning in Brokeback
Mountain. In 10 Things I Hate About You he made us fall in
love with him despite the world’s most terrible hair, and even A Knight’s Tale was totally good. By all accounts,
this was a wonderful guy with a lot of potential and a little baby
girl, and now he and his beautiful face are dead. And that’s sad.
