I felt compelled to put work on hold long enough to blog a few things.
One of the less pleasant aspects of adulthood is experiencing the pain of watching our elders pass on, like Frodo and Samwise witnessing the Passing of the Elves. And when it’s someone we don’t really know, only revered or worshipped, that emotional distance provides the luxury of being possessive.
When Jim Henson died, for example, I was talking with some fellow fans who talked about him as if he were a close friend. But they’d never spoken to him, never written to him.
“Oh, Jim meant so much to me.”
“Wait,” I’d often say. “Did you know him?”
“No, but I feel so close to him.”
This happened a lot. The chills got colder each time.
I bring all that up to acknowledge that certain degree of presumption, delineating for future reference the distinction between claiming an idol for yourself and paying one’s respects. I want to do the latter, you see.
First, the less obvious. Actor Glenn Ford died yesterday, remembered by family, friends, and hundreds of characters that he gently made his own. He made a few cinematic forays into urban dread in things like The Blackboard Jungle. And thanks to his performance as Clark Kent’s dad in the 1978 Superman, I can’t help but feel his passing.
On August 25, screenwriter Joseph Stefano also died. He’s going to be most likely remembered for scaring oodles of people in two really cool ways. He wrote the screenplay that Alfred Hitchcock used to make Robert Bloch‘s novel Psycho into a silver screen masterwork. It was Stefano’s idea to follow Marion Crane from her day job to her nighttime stopover at the Bates Motel, only to make a fatal appointment with Mrs Bates in the shower. God, I remember the first time I saw that scene. I was ten. I was frozen in place. And I wanted to run.
Joseph Stefano was also a co-creator and major contributor to “The Outer Limits,” the original TV series in 1963. My understanding of the behind-the-scenes business is vague, but I gather that he gradually became frustrated with the direction of the series, especially in its second year which is when he left it. But in his wake, the original show had a uniquely dark, almost Gothic take on science fiction. Among my favorite episodes is one of his stories, “Nightmare.”
I stake no claims and make no demands, save one — that they are worth remembering. It’s sad to see them go, but they left us with some cool memories.