I don't usually get text messages from Bernadette after she's already left for work. On the odd occasion I do it'll be a message about taking something out for dinner or something about the washing. On January 22nd 2008 I got a text at about seven am from my wife that simply said, Heath Ledger has died.
I didn't believe her at all, but sure enough the news was right. Heath Ledger had died. I also didn't believe her this morning when I received a text that James Gandolfini had died. It wasn't possible. He was just in Zero Dark Thirty and Killing Me Softly. He was just about to start another HBO series. It just wasn't possible.
But sure enough, this wasn't a Jeff Goldblum falling off a cliff in New Zealand. This genuinely has happened. The great James Gandolfini has died.
I know he will be remembered as Tony Soprano more than any other character that he has ever played, but for me the role I will remember James Gandolfini for will be as Michael in the perfect God of Carnage.
In 2011 Bernadette and I headed to America for the first time and along our journey we went and saw God of Carnage at the Ahmanson Theatre in LA*. The cast consisted of Marcia Gay Harden, Jeff Daniels, Hope Davis, and of course, James Gandolfini. We sat a few rows from the front, close enough to feel the spit come from Gandolfini in a later scene.
The perfect comedy was impeccably performed with timing that comes from seasoned professionals. Besides Jeff Daniels, I wouldn't have picked any of the other three actors to be great comedians, but that's exactly what they were that night. For me though, seeing one of my favourite actors in the flesh, doing his best work, was thrilling.
At the end of the play, Gandolfini bowed alongside his cast members, and it felt like being in the presence of an acting giant - both physically and emotionally. He had displayed such a great range as Michael that it was hard to not be moved - the quiet lows to the roaring highs.
Sure, James Gandolfini portrayed the same level of rage to quiet as Tony Soprano, but there was something that was shared with the audience that night - and I'm sure on other nights as well - that showed that Gandolfini was more than just a great actor, he was a real person as well. I know that sounds stupid and quite pathetic, but it's very easy to forget that these actors that entertain us are actually people, that Maggie Smith is an actual person, that Ian McKellen is an actual person, that James Gandolfini was an actual person.
I'm saddened that I won't be able to look forward to more great performances by James Gandolfini. His perfect performances - amongst others - ranging from the subtle but effective voice work as Carol in Where the Wild Things Are, to the gay killer Leroy in The Mexican, will always exist, but the fact that there won't be any more is an awful thing to consider.
James Gandolfini will be sorely missed.
1961-2013.
*Two LA Times articles about God of Carnage in LA. Here and here.
Rambling nonsense about films, music, games, books and sometimes it's just rambling nonsense.
2 comments:
This is the first "I'm sad to hear XXXX has died" blog I have ever read and enjoyed. You're not simply disappointed that your favourite "character" or person you know nothing about has died, you actually took time to recognise him as a nromal person who did great stuff you enjoyed. Does that make sense?
That was a great read Andy. The post also highlighted one of my many flaws - enthusiasm in sharing death notices. I blame Mark and his game of death predictions.
I was pleased to note that you focused on the great performance we witnessed from God of Carnage, that was the first thought that came to my mind when I heard the news.
While I can acknowledge and to some degree appreciate his fine work in The Sopranos, it is not a show I have ever enjoyed watching. I remember how uneasy I was when you attempted to make me watch it from season 1, I think we gave up after season 2?
The reason being Tony Soprano as a character and James Gandolfini's appearance remind me so much of my own father, it is difficult to watch. Whether it was the physicality, the italian accent/traditions and attitudes or the unholy mix of sheer brutality and undeniable charisma, it all hit to close to home for me.
The fact that my father also died suddenly at 55 of a massive heart attack, found by his young son, similar to what has been reported about Gandolfini's last moments, makes me feel even more uneasy.
It might sound strange but in his passing, as he did on screen, Gandolfini has me thinking about a person, I don't always want to remember, yet won't easily forget. So for that and the one amazing night in los Angeles, I am thankful. R.I.P
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