Obituaries for Two One-of-a-Kinds
Chief Marie Smith Jones, the last native speaker of Eyak, died today. What I liked best about her obituary is that it is fully aware of the sadness that comes with losing a language that a people once shared, but it is determined to pay homage to a "fiercely, fiercely, fiercely independent" woman. With little word choices and phrases, the personal force of the Chief leaks through. Unlike a lot of obituaries, this one has undertones. I think it's fair to say I might have liked the Chief a good deal.
When I first saw Heath Ledger, I paused. I watched him. And in a short period of time (during which he did Roar, A Knight's Tale, and The Patriot), I became convinced that I was watching someone special. I tried to tell someone yesterday that Heath had "it," that indefinable something that Hollywood claims to want, because it makes movies more interesting to watch. He also had talent that leaked through even in such a quirky piece as A Knight's Tale. It wasn't just that he could hold a lead character. There were hidden qualities in him, in his acting, waiting to come out. So I watched for his name and when he won acclaim, I was glad. I looked forward to seeing him again, and again and again - but I thought it would be in new films, in new TMZ paparazzi footage outside restaurants, in new award shows. I had no idea that I would be left to vainly seek him through film so soon, left to cover the same ground aimlessly. I'm glad that his image was captured at all - a hundred years ago, his talent could not have been saved in film - but it's been changed for me. There will be a sense of sadness and regret, no matter how small, even at his happiest roles, and I'll always wonder what he might have been if he hadn't been found dead at 28. Like Brandon Lee all over again, and I still sigh about him when I think of him.
When I first saw Heath Ledger, I paused. I watched him. And in a short period of time (during which he did Roar, A Knight's Tale, and The Patriot), I became convinced that I was watching someone special. I tried to tell someone yesterday that Heath had "it," that indefinable something that Hollywood claims to want, because it makes movies more interesting to watch. He also had talent that leaked through even in such a quirky piece as A Knight's Tale. It wasn't just that he could hold a lead character. There were hidden qualities in him, in his acting, waiting to come out. So I watched for his name and when he won acclaim, I was glad. I looked forward to seeing him again, and again and again - but I thought it would be in new films, in new TMZ paparazzi footage outside restaurants, in new award shows. I had no idea that I would be left to vainly seek him through film so soon, left to cover the same ground aimlessly. I'm glad that his image was captured at all - a hundred years ago, his talent could not have been saved in film - but it's been changed for me. There will be a sense of sadness and regret, no matter how small, even at his happiest roles, and I'll always wonder what he might have been if he hadn't been found dead at 28. Like Brandon Lee all over again, and I still sigh about him when I think of him.