Rest in Heath

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The media circus that passes for journalism these days had a whopper of a story this week. The death of a famous, handsome and successful young Hollywood actor whose female conquests (Heather Graham, Naomi Watts, Lindsay Lohan, Mary Kate Olsen, Helena Christensen among them) probably outnumbered his movie roles. The fact that Heath Ledger was just 28 and rumored to have been a drug addict only adds fuel to all the sound and the fury.

For those of you who don’t know, I freelance (and have freelanced) often for several of the weekly rags that you read at the nail salon, pick up at the airport or crib from a friend’s bathroom. The success of these magazines almost guarantees that if you’re a freelance writer, you’ll be working for them at some point. It’s simple supply and demand—these are about the only print publications who’ve actually been profitable in the past five years or so and they hire freelancers on a regular basis.

So Heath was a huge story, one I’ve had to write about every day, and all I can say is that it’s incredibly sad and tragic, not least because he was so young and has left behind a two-year-old daughter. Today, his family left messages for their son and brother in the death notices section of the West Australian paper. They’re heartbreaking to read. You realize the magnitude of his family’s loss and grief, the gaping hole that death leaves behind.

I was listening to the radio the other day and yet again, they brought up the Carla Bruni-Nicolas Sarkozy affair. This time, they were discussing whether or not it was appropriate to be discussing it (leave it to the French to get all existential about tabloid culture). But it brings up the point: What is appropriate in this day and age of non-stop celebrity coverage? Like the non-existent tree that no one hears fall in the forest, would Britney Spears be such an utter trainwreck if we weren’t around to witness and watch and devour and delight in all her misfortunes, from custody battles to clothing choices?

Death, which is supposedly the great equalizer, apparently isn’t when it comes to celebrity (hence, Marilyn Monroe, Elvis Presley and Princess Di).

And now, Heath. It’s unfortunate that his sudden passing is only going to be used as a vehicle to sell more magazines, rope in a bigger TV audience, get more page views, make more money. I’m holding myself just as accountable, both for my part-time job and this blog (maybe those French radio guys were onto something…)

Even Perez Hilton, he of the starlet crotch shots and snarky Photoshop wand, has refused to show any paparazzi photos of Heath, his family or his funeral. If Perez can do it, surely CNN can? (CNN.com has a bunch of readers, what they call “I-Reporters”, who’ve written in with their fleeting encounters with Heath, i.e. in a pre-natal class or at a fast food counter.)

I think like birth, death should be a pure and simple thing, attended to by only those closest to the person—family, or friends who are practically family. Judging by the way this week’s going, it doesn’t look like Heath Ledger (or his grieving family) will get that. How sad for them, but mostly, how sad for the rest of us.

Have we really all come to this?

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Filed under Celebrity, Culture, Life, Paris & France

Tags: actor, birth, Britney Spears, Carla Bruni, celebrities, circus, CNN, crotch shots, death, drugs, Elvis Presley, existentialism, freelancers, Heath Ledger, Heather Graham, Helena Christensen, Hollywood, journalism, Lindsay Lohan, magazines, Marilyn Monroe, Mary Kate Olsen, media, Naomi Watts, Nicolas Sarkozy, People, Perez Hilton, Photoshop, Princess Diana, starlets, tabloids