Heath Ledger

I saw Brokeback Mountain at an industry screening with my sister about a month before it came out. I walked out saying that I didn't care what other movies I saw, Heath Ledger deserved the Best Actor Oscar for the year. As much as I loved Good Night, and Good Luck, I never really revised my opinion. It's a brilliant and sensitive performance.

It felt so good because I remember insisting my sister see A Knight's Tale with me because I was so sure Heath Ledger would be good in it. And she said, "Who?"

Last year, I loved Casanova. I was, and still am, anticipating The Dark Knight more than any other movie this coming summer because Heath Ledger's Joker looks terrifying.

He was found dead, an apparent suicide, two hours ago.

This is hitting me not just because I have a weird synchronicity with actor deaths -- I was looking up films by him on Amazon about ten minutes before his death was reported and it's not the first time something like that's happened with actors or other artists I really like -- but because I'm approaching the twentieth anniversary of my suicide attempt this Thursday.

I've had days where I regret not going through with it. (For those of you who don't know the story, I called a friend of mine to say goodbye, without telling her that's what it was about, and she made me promise to talk to her when she called the next day. I have never before or since gone through a night so difficult. I finally had to leave my apartment so that I wouldn't break my promise.) In balance, I'm glad I'm still here.

And I'm so sorry Mr. Ledger won't be.