SUPREME POSTSCRIPT: The mourning after
Another week, another unexpected celebrity death.
On the surface, Anton Yelchin appears to be the latest to fall victim to the infamous 27 Club curse. The term 27 Club was created in the 1970s after four of the biggest musicians of the day — Brian Jones from the Rolling Stones, Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin and The Doors’ Jim Morrison — all passed away independently of one another and at the same age between 1969 and 1971.
But while the likes of Amy Winehouse and Kurt Cobain joined this list by losing their lives to the effects of drugs, alcohol or suicide, the Russian-born American actor never made it to his 28th birthday due to a freak accident. No matter how many somber conversations one has with near-strangers by the office coffee machine about this supposed string of rotten luck, it will still be true that all the famous people who kicked the bucket at that age are only linked by coincidence. Nothing more.
So Tragic That It’s Comical
That Yelchin died of blunt force asphyxia at his home in Los Angeles — his Jeep Grand Cherokee rolled down a steep driveway and pinned him against a brick postbox pillar and a security fence, crushing his lungs — is possibly more grim than perishing from an overdose. It’s so unbelievably tragic that it’s unintentionally comical. The movie franchise Final Destination springs to mind.
In February, four members of the upcoming British band Viola Beach and their tour manager died after their car smashed through two sets of road barriers and shot off the edge of a bridge near Stockholm, plunging into a canal 80 feet below. The musicians, ranging in age from 19 to 27, were driving from a festival in Sweden to a gig in England; they were scheduled to make their American debut at SXSW last March. Like Yelchin, the driver of the ill-fated vehicle had no traces of alcohol or drugs in his system. Again, it was an accident.
Loss Of Potential
In the age of social media, mourning the death of a famous individual seems to follow a pattern of shock, grief, reminiscence and backlash. I’m not one to police others’ online passion — or digital histrionics. But it just seems a lot less indulgent to focus on the person who passed instead of making the loss about ourselves and adding nothing to the collective mourn except the sound of our own voices.
Yes, you loved Anton Yelchin as Pavel Chekov in the Star Trek movies. Or you related to him so much in Charlie Bartlett. Or you felt for his character in Like Crazy and Fierce People. Though it’s annoying to be told how you should or should not feel when this type of tragedy arises, you also must understand that a celebrity’s death is not just about you. It’s about something greater: lost talent, unfulfilled potential, missed opportunities.
When Heath Ledger was found dead in a Manhattan apartment in 2008, countless articles lamented the loss of his potential future performances, citing the promise the Australian actor showed in projects such as Brokeback Mountain, I’m Not There and The Dark Knight.
At the time of his death, Yelchin, much like Ledger, had only begun to garner attention for his serious acting ability. An obituary published in The Guardian pointed out his decision to restrict himself mostly to “pictures that would increase his range rather than his box-office standing,” adding that the late 27-year-old — born to figure skaters who had been stars of the Leningrad Ice Ballet — “displayed subtlety, versatility and intelligence across the spectrum of genres covered in his prolific film career.”
Turning Sorrow Into Cash
Perhaps the most vexing part of mourning a celebrity death in the digital age is that certain organizations blatantly seek to profit from a star’s early (or not-so-early) end. Moments after David Bowie and Prince died, companies all over the world went to work crafting visual testimonials to display their sadness — and their logos.
Part of the tacky attempts to attach to the trending Twitter hysteria were brands with zero connections to the iconic celebrities, such as Makers Mark bourbon and Prince, and Crocs and David Bowie. It’s one thing to pay tribute, but our collective sorrow does not need commemoration akin to “This eulogy is brought to you by…”
When it comes to actors who leave behind upcoming releases, it’s most likely that film studios will milk a star’s death for all the publicity they can get. I can already feel that mainstream entertainment media is focused on turning my sorrow into cash, way before Yelchin appears posthumously in Star Trek Beyond, the intimate romance Porto and the sci-fi drama Rememory.
Tasteless as that may be, it’s the macabre reality of celebrity death today.
