When a theatre closes for a day of rest or a play ends its run, it’s said to “go dark.” When a friend dies, your heart goes dark. With grief.
The world lost a grand and shimmering star of an actor today. Christopher Plummer. He graced the stage and the screen with his transformations into the characters he fleshed from script to performance with compassion, depth, insight, impishness, humanity, kindness, wisdom, awareness, and that quality of being unforgettable …a quality that he infused into every role, every syllable, every glance or glare; every grimace or grin.
We became friends thirty years ago at a charity fundraiser that was holidaying with Christmas trees.
What do you first notice when you meet a legend? With Chris, it was his crinkle-eyed smile and the ease with which he generated warmth. Sincere warmth. We spent time together in front of an audience. And time together away from spotlights. Just talking. He spoke of his birth-town Toronto and growing up in Quebec. There was royalty coursing in his veins. There was an egalitarian spirit glowing in his countenance, in his humanity. Stories. Reminiscences. Plays. Poems. All uttered with gentle or wry humor and keenness that was as much a part of his conversation as it was a part of his stardom.
He knew everyONE. He performed everyTHING. And he delighted in his memorable spin on the planet. That orbit touched audiences. And it touched my life with his friendship. Christopher Plummer was part of the world’s good. Now he is part of history.
Talent? Boundless. Gravitas? Abundant. Wit? Paralyzing with laughter. Friendship? Present and cherished. Christopher Plummer left today. And those who saw him and those who knew him have gone dark.
R