This was supposed to be a blog entry about the Oscar nominations (and specifically how I was surprised to see Juno honored so prominently, how I wished that my film class wasn’t over so that we could discuss the Oscar nominations in light of our studies this semester, and how over the course of teaching this film class I’ve actually found myself looking forward to the awards). I even have a draft of this saved from earlier in the week.
Then, a masseuse found Heath Ledger dead in New York.
So once again, I regret that my half year film class is over, because I’d like to pose the a question I’ve been pondering myself.
Let me explain my thought process first. As a society (specifically, those with critical inclinations), we praise those who put every ounce of their being into their art. Sure, art (and I use this in the broadest sense - painting, music, written word, performance, etc) resonates with us so profoundly because it lets us see how someone else interprets the world. Toni Morrison calls this the “missionary quality” of art - that art is the medium by which artists communicate their personal thoughts, beliefs, and views of their world.
This becomes problematic when the art reflects a tortured view of the world. We’ve romanticized the tortured artist who leaves a body of work that offers a glimpse into the inner struggles. However, do we ignore these messages until the artist passes, choosing to actively acknowledge those artists that embrace the “human spirit” rather than those that portray the world as a dark, disturbed place?
As for Heath Ledger, there’s far too many questions left unanswered - was his death a suicide? Were there other signs of illness? All of this went through my mind this morning as I read a description that said how Ledger immersed himself in his role as the Joker in the upcoming Batman film The Dark Night. The article suggests that Ledger slept two hours a night during filming due to the mental stress his role created.
At this point, it’s too soon to tell, but it seemed like Ledger’s turn as the Joker would become his signature role. However, who knows if this role played a part in his demise. Perhaps by connecting with the dark parts of his own soul (”method acting,” as my students know), Ledger opened up old wounds that he couldn’t heal.
Like I said, this is all speculation. However, it has raised the question of whether total immersion in a role, in particular a role as dark as this one, can be a healthy thing. If not, then what part do directors and producers play in ensuring that actors’ on-screen darkness stays on the screen and out of their personal lives?
