What Is Techno Again?

Cheers! Lost is back!

First, one update: In case you haven’t watched the newest episode of House yet or you missed it (although you can watch it for free on the House website now—hurray!), there will be a special, incredibly random new House episode this Sunday after the Superbowl (check your local listings) called “Frozen.”

Now, on to business. This Thursday’s going to be big for two reasons:

Lost. And Smallville.

Let’s start with Lost. Don’t even ask me about any intricate details of what happened on the season finale, because I honestly don’t remember much (seriously, who does when it comes to that show?). Charlie died, Jack finally told Ben up, the Losties called for help from who they thought was an ally (drowning Charlie said no), Mikhail died (again …), there was some mystery dead guy in a casket, and most importantly, and intriguingly, Jack and Kate were featured in a flashforward (the name of the funeral parlor Jack visited was an anagram, but it was obvious anyway) instead of a flashback.

Not Penny’s boat? CRAP.

Pirate guy “dies.”

Whose obituary is it (who’s neither friend nor family)?

One question that’s prying at my mind is: Will there be only flashforwards from now on or will they be reverting to flashbacks? Or both? And apparently … Someone’s supposed to come back from the dead (please let it be Charlie, please let it be Charlie …).

Now, onto Smallville. Kara still has amnesia, as the last we saw of her was at some diner in Detroit. Chloe almost got blown to bits, but a suspiciously stoic Clark saved her, and afterwards she reveals to Jimmy that she is a meteor freak (or meteor-infected, to be politically correct, or whatever). Gabriel learns he’s not Lex’s brother Julian but rather just some experimental clone of his dead brother made to satisfy Lex’s disturbed emotional need for belonging. Lana shows Clark a LuthorCorp employee named Casey Brock who’s repeating a Kryptonian error message similar to when a computer tries but fails to reboot, leading Clark to believe that the BRAIN-InterActive Construct (BRAINIAC) may still be alive and, even worse, is it learning from its mistakes. At the end, those who noticed Clark’s oddly distant behavior smirked at their magnificent powers of observation as our hero’s face distorted into that of none other than Bizarro’s, the phantom that transformed into Clark’s evil opposite back in the season seven premiere. So where’s the real Clark? Trapped in the ice of the Fortress of Solitude. Crap.

That’s just cool, man.

Uhm, really, really cool. It’s ice cold, in fact.

Thursday’s episode is “Persona”. Marc McClure, who played Dave McFly in the Back to the Future series, guest stars as Dax-Ur (I won’t pretend to know who the hell that is, but if someone recognizes a Superman reference, please tell). McClure is the only actor to appear in all the Superman films as well as Supergirl, portraying Jimmy Olsen.

Hmm, I wonder if he and Ashmore will share a scene …

Get ready to reboot, because Brainiac (played by James Marsters, known best as Spike on Buffy) returns tonight on the CW looking … uhm, a bit pale?

Not even dust can stop the Brain-InterActive Construct.

Jahh? Brainiac may be learning from its mistakes, but its intelligence is cleverly disguised by amazingly stupid expressions.

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Okay, several things.

For anyone who didn’t catch (or bother to watch, whichever) Sunday’s Screen Actors Guild (SAG) Awards, Daniel Day-Lewis won outstanding male actor for There Will Be Blood (yeah, I know this is somewhat belated, but I don’t always have time to spare to write these posts when I’d like to). Why do I care? The actor, perhaps feeling a pang of guilt for an opportunity lost forever, dedicated his award to Heath, whom he said was a “unique” actor and personal inspiration to him when it came to acting.

Afterward, Day-Lewis added, “I suppose that’s all I’ve been thinking about for the last few days. I never met him. I thought he was beautiful. I just have a very strong feeling that I would have liked him very much as a man … I admired him very much.”

When I read that quote I felt as though that was the main reason I shared the heartbreak of Ledger’s death. Sure, I was freaking out because I was dreading, like innumerable others, how hard his demise would collide with The Dark Knight. But when I figured out that the movie would probably be relatively unaffected, I realized I still cared. Now, I’m a pretty misanthropic girl, I’ll admit. But one positive thing I do have is a tremendous respect for actors who take their job seriously and do it well. There are various theories out there about what happened to Ledger (you’ve heard mine), but there’s something, for those of us who have learned about the overwhelming dedication he had to his character and essentially TDK, can agree on: He was one hell of a method actor. And Day-Lewis’s words seem to embody my inner feelings for Heath.

Christopher Nolan, the director of TDK, put it even better with his own beautiful tribute to Heath:

One night, as I’m standing on LaSalle Street in Chicago, trying to line up a shot for “The Dark Knight,” a production assistant skateboards into my line of sight. Silently, I curse the moment that Heath first skated onto our set in full character makeup. I’d fretted about the reaction of Batman fans to a skateboarding Joker, but the actual result was a proliferation of skateboards among the younger crew members. If you’d asked those kids why they had chosen to bring their boards to work, they would have answered honestly that they didn’t know. That’s real charisma—as invisible and natural as gravity. That’s what Heath had.

Heath was bursting with creativity. It was in his every gesture. He once told me that he liked to wait between jobs until he was creatively hungry. Until he needed it again. He brought that attitude to our set every day. There aren’t many actors who can make you feel ashamed of how often you complain about doing the best job in the world. Heath was one of them.

One time he and another actor were shooting a complex scene. We had two days to shoot it, and at the end of the first day, they’d really found something and Heath was worried that he might not have it if we stopped. He wanted to carry on and finish. It’s tough to ask the crew to work late when we all know there’s plenty of time to finish the next day. But everyone seemed to understand that Heath had something special and that we had to capture it before it disappeared. Months later, I learned that as Heath left the set that night, he quietly thanked each crew member for working late. Quietly. Not trying to make a point, just grateful for the chance to create that they’d given him.

Those nights on the streets of Chicago were filled with stunts. These can be boring times for an actor, but Heath was fascinated, eagerly accepting our invitation to ride in the camera car as we chased vehicles through movie traffic—not just for the thrill ride, but to be a part of it. Of everything. He’d brought his laptop along in the car, and we had a high-speed screening of two of his works-in-progress: short films he’d made that were exciting and haunting. Their exuberance made me feel jaded and leaden. I’ve never felt as old as I did watching Heath explore his talents. That night I made him an offer—knowing he wouldn’t take me up on it—that he should feel free to come by the set when he had a night off so he could see what we were up to.

When you get into the edit suite after shooting a movie, you feel a responsibility to an actor who has trusted you, and Heath gave us everything. As we started my cut, I would wonder about each take we chose, each trim we made. I would visualize the screening where we’d have to show him the finished film—sitting three or four rows behind him, watching the movements of his head for clues to what he was thinking about what we’d done with all that he’d given us. Now that screening will never be real. I see him every day in my edit suite. I study his face, his voice. And I miss him terribly.

Back on LaSalle Street, I turn to my assistant director and I tell him to clear the skateboarding kid out of my line of sight when I realize—it’s Heath, woolly hat pulled low over his eyes, here on his night off to take me up on my offer. I can’t help but smile.

On a much lighter note, House returns tonight on FOX. Here are some pictures of the upcoming episode, “It’s a Wonderful Lie.” Thanks to John for teaching me how to take screenshots (sorry about the semi-crappy quality—I’m still getting the hang of it).

“Lies are like children: Hard work but they’re worth it because the future depends on them.”

I think that X-mas tree in the background is undeniable proof that the writers’ strike has caused some tv shows to be magically transported back in time.

House likes presents, too.

“Candy canes? Are you mocking me?” Again?!

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Well, this is just eerie:

Jack Nicholson Said He ‘Warned’ Heath Ledger

Jack Nicholson didn’t seem too distraught over Ledger’s death, to say the least, as he turned the news into a smug joke (see the complete video here). Nicholson was strangely vague when he scoffed matter-of-factly, with unconvincing pity (à la le sigh), “I warned him,” followed by annoying British reporter laughter that seemed to scream something about Nicholson’s attitude (and, of course, reporter morals).

Reporters = evil spawn

Later Nicholson elaborated that he warned Ledger about Ambien, one of the six prescription medications for insomnia and anxiety that were apparently found in his apartment. While Nicholson’s explanation for his earlier words makes sense, I find the whole Ledger-Nicholson situation a little hard to swallow. Maybe it’s just my misanthropic side, but something smells of jealousy and a villainous sense of justice: Apparently Nicholson had said before that he was “furious” he wasn’t offered the part (or at least consulted). Excuse them, Jack, if they wanted to do a reinvention of the Joker instead of going with the same old, overused formula of parlor tricks and puns. Besides, you’re like, seventy-years-old. You might have dropped dead during the filming of The Dark Knight. Meh, Nicholson always seemed like an ass to me, anyway.

Good thing, Jack, acting lets you disregard your own personality.

On another note, Why So Serious? has added a subtle tribute to Heath on its viral website.

1979-2008

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Actor Heath Ledger Is Found Dead

Holy crap indeed.

Okay, on a shock level, this ranks up there with Steve Irwin’s very ironic death. Perhaps it even trumps Death-by-Sting-Ray. Not only am I saddened because today, January 22nd, 2008, we’ve lost a respectable actor, but because of the upcoming Batman movie, The Dark Knight.

Now, to all you Batman/comic book/Heath Ledger (aka That Other Brokeback Mountain Guy)/Christian Bale fans, while there is no official word on how Ledger’s death will affect the movie, the film is apparently in post-production, meaning that there’s a good chance it’ll emerge unscathed. However, this is not so for Ledger’s most recent reported role in The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus.

That other Brokeback Mountain guy.

Not even a week ago it occurred to me that the next Batman movie was probably more than well on its way. So I looked it up on IMDB and watched the trailer. I didn’t even know it was Ledger playing the Joker until I looked at the cast listing. At first I didn’t like the idea, but then it grew on me. He might actually do a good job. After reading up on some of the movie’s news, it sounded like Ledger’s commitment to the reinvention of the role would make it more than worthwhile to see.

And then, today, when I found out he’d suddenly died, it was more than creepy. I had just talked about this guy with incredulity and then appreciation and anticipation. I was looking forward to seeing the movie—and the consequential response to his portrayal. That is, knowing he’d be alive to receive the feedback.

I also started thinking: If it was suicide (not the official cause of death, but come on, there were pills “strewn all over”), maybe his dedication to the role of the Joker pushed him off the edge:

He is here in London filming the latest episode of the “Batman” franchise, “The Dark Knight.” (Mr. Bale, as it happens, plays Batman; Mr. Ledger plays the Joker.) It is a physically and mentally draining role — his Joker is a “psychopathic, mass-murdering, schizophrenic clown with zero empathy” he said cheerfully — and, as often happens when he throws himself into a part, he is not sleeping much.

“Last week I probably slept an average of two hours a night,” he said. “I couldn’t stop thinking. My body was exhausted, and my mind was still going.” One night he took an Ambien, which failed to work. He took a second one and fell into a stupor, only to wake up an hour later, his mind still racing.

Even as he spoke, Mr. Ledger was hard-pressed to keep still. He got up and poured more coffee. He stepped outside into the courtyard and smoked a cigarette. He shook his hair out from under its hood, put a rubber band around it, took out the rubber band, put on a hat, took off the hat, put the hood back up. He went outside and had another cigarette. Polite and charming, he nonetheless gave off the sense that the last thing he wanted to do was delve deep into himself for public consumption. “It can be a little distressing to have to overintellectualize yourself,” is how he put it, a little apologetically.

Conducting a tour of the house, which he is renting for a few months, he made wry remarks about the art. One painting depicts a crowd of creatures who appear to be in hell, but who seem determined to extract as much sexual pleasure as they can from their eternity of free time; Mr. Ledger has turned another one around and hung it upside down, to no apparent ill advantage.

An open bag with clothes spilling out lay on the floor of the master bedroom. “I’m kind of addicted to moving,” Mr. Ledger said, perhaps on account of having had to shuttle back and forth after his parents’ divorce, when he was 11. He carries his interests around with him, and his kitchen table was awash in objects: a chess set, assorted books, various empty glasses, items of clothing. Here too was his Joker diary, which he began compiling four months before filming began. It is filled with images and thoughts helpful to the Joker back story, like a list of things the Joker would find funny. (AIDS is one of them.) Mr. Ledger seemed almost embarrassed that the book had been spotted, as if he had been caught trying to get extra credit in school.

“He’s very disciplined and takes it very seriously,” said Marc Forster, who directed Mr. Ledger in “Monster’s Ball,” in which he played a troubled prison guard. Mr. Ledger came to the part at the last minute, but caught on quickly. “Heath at the time was something like 22, and I thought: ‘He’s incredible. He’s so smart and so intuitive and so observant, and he really understood the part and the character.’”

Either way, I’m not laughing.

Because he just died, that’s why.

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