Heath Ledger 1979-2008

I woke up this morning to talk with a friend about a big project I’m going to be contributing to, when my dad tells me the news.

Heath Ledger died.

For someone normally full of grandiose terms I’m at a loss.  I’ve always thought that Heath Ledger was to be one of the great talents of our time, an actor whose work would be revered long after his death, which I’m sure will still be true.  To die at such a young age, with such a career, such a talent, and such possibilities in front of you, is beyond tragic.

It would seem, perhaps, that his final role will be that of The Joker, in The Dark Knight.  I knew from the start he’d be perfect for the role, but the role is not perfect for his last.  Great actors are supposed to have their grand final shows, defining points in cinema that close the cover on massive tomes of accomplishment.  Like so many artists lost before their time, River Phoenix, Jeff Buckley, and so on, all I can feel is an emptiness in the future.  A void where this man wins oscars, moves audiences to tears, transforms into every shape and flavor of man before our eyes.  Perhaps I’m making too much of it, but the world has lost a talent today.

No, a talent was stolen from the world today.

Stolen.   And there’s no way we can steal it back.

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