Heath Ledger's death has left me unsettled.
I was at work today, talking to a co-worker about Bran Renfro. She didn't hear that he died last week until yesterday. I was reading an article online about how he has a son living in Japan. As soon as our conversation ended, literally, I got an email from a friend saying that Heath Ledger died. My immediate reaction was "no way." I thought perhaps my friend was looking at the same picture of Brad Renfro that I was and mistook him for Heath Ledger. I wrote her and attempted to corrected her. Curiosity piqued, I Googled Heath. Nothing popped up at the top. Then I clicked the news tab and was presented with a long list of links saying "Actor Heath Ledger, dead at 28."
I couldn't believe it was true.
I loved him in "The Patriot" and his performance in "Monster's Ball," however brief, makes me cry every time. I wasn't thrilled with Brokeback Mountain - I wanted so much more from the movie, and I also thought Jake Gyllenhaal's accent wasn't that great. I did see Heath in "I'm Not There" and I enjoyed it. Though, sitting here thinking about it, I think he was a great actor (it's funny to write "was") - what I am experiencing is not a fan girl reaction, because he wasn't someone who was ever really in my mind. But when I read the news, I just couldn't believe it.
I immediately IMed everyone who was online on my buddy list practically. Why was it so hard for me to wrap my head around the fact that some guy died? I mean, yes, he was an actor, but he was a human like you and me. I thought about it for an hour, until personal problems of my own began to dominate my thoughts.
When I made it home in the evening and turned on the news, his death was the top story, after the storm we're experiencing. I felt sad again. Sad for him, sad for his daughter - who is now without a father, sad for Michelle Williams, Heath's family, and anyone else who was close to him. Maybe part of the surprise is because he wasn't out, going crazy, in and out of court, or beating people up. I'm sure no one really saw this coming for this guy at this point in his life.
No one really knows yet what exactly happened. The autopsy hasn't happened yet. Could have been suicide. Could have been an 'accidental overdose.' I heard Harvey Levin of TMZ say he had pneumonia at the time of death. Regardless of the outcome, it just made me get to thinking about the lives we live behind closed doors. To the world, he seemed fine. But if it was suicide or drug addiction, clearly he wasn't fine. Did anyone have the slightest idea? I could spend my nights drinking away the hours, ruining my liver, and not a soul would know. I could be shooting heroin, eating sticks of butter, running in circles while naked. I could have a live in lover, a stipper pole in the center of the room...or anything. And no one would know - even the people who know me best. Who we are when we are alone could be drastically different from who we are when we are around others.
I still can't put my finger on why this particular death has been bothering me so. But clearly it's bothered me enough to write a long post about it.
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