INTERVIEW: Heath Ledger
August 7, 2008With the beleaguered The Dark Knight finally here, your friendly neighbourhood Void caught up with recently deceased Joker Heath Ledger, in the back parlour of medium Mrs Edwina Chisel, of East Neuk, Fife.
Void: So Heath, how’s tricks?
Heath Ledger: I’ve been better.
Void: How long do you think we’ve got here? Mrs Chisel looks a bit shaky to me. I’m afraid she’s going to have a heart attack or something.
HL: Yeah, it’s not the best line. I reckon we’ve got about 20 minutes.
Void: Better get cracking then. So was it intimidating stepping into Jack Nicholson’s shoes for The Dark Knight?
HL: Well Jack’s amazing obviously, and he’s a great friend and mentor, and I think in any other role it would’ve been a problem. But given that The Joker is the single most overrated performance of Jack’s career, I didn’t really feel I had much to live up to. I mean, as long as I actually had good make-up and wardrobe, and did more than jump around shrieking like a fool, I figured I was pretty safe. Plus, The Joker is very thin, and Jack is very fat, so I had that physical advantage already. Even Cesar Romero was a better Joker than Jack, and Romero wouldn’t even shave off his moustache – he just made them paint it white!
Void: You’re being tipped for a posthumous Oscar – what do you think your chances are?
HL: Oh, pretty strong, I guess. The Academy is nothing if not sentimental.
Void: Your passing met with a lot of hyperbole about how you were one of the strongest young actors of your generation. Were you really that good?
HL: Well, I had my moments, I guess. But no, I don’t think I was really all that remarkable. I did some stuff that was pretty terrible, and I did some stuff that I was pretty terrible in. Now that I’m dead people seem to like to gloss over things like The Sin Eater. I don’t think I really nailed Dylan in my bit of I’m Not There. The Patriot’s a piece of shit, and I’m awful in Ned Kelly. That was just a classic example of an actor being bloody precious and stretching a point. That being an Australian film about an Australian hero, with hindsight I don’t think anyone would have really minded if I’d kept my Australian accent. But I had to be clever-clever and go for Irish, which has defeated better actors than me. So I’m just labouring with this awful brogue the whole time, and it’s a deathly dull film anyway. It’s a bit embarrassing frankly.
Void: Are you even that good in Brokeback Mountain? There are still people who have no idea what a single line of your dialogue was, least of all the last one.
HL: It’s a fair point.
Void: What about A Knight’s Tale?
HL: Meh.
Void: How do you feel about the way you checked out?
HL: Well, an accidental overdose is a bit feeble, I guess. But it puts me in the pantheon with Nick Drake, which isn’t so bad. Not quite as rock and roll or dramatic as Bon or River or Kurt, but at least I didn’t jump in a river for no reason or hang myself while masturbating. There are worse ways I could’ve gone, frankly! Maybe a bit more mystery might have been good. eep the conspiracy theorists busy. Keep my name out there for a few more years. Or being randomly murdered is always exciting. Dimebag Darrel and Jill Dando have really bonded over that up here. You should see them – they’re the oddest couple.
Void: How badly do you think you screwed Terry Gilliam’s Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus?
HL: Heh. Well it wouldn’t do for a Gilliam film to not be horribly compromised in some way. The last film he made that came out exactly how he wanted was Tideland, and that was bloody dreadful, so I think I may have actually done him a favour. He seems to triumph in adversity.
Void: And finally, it’d be remiss of us not to ask you where you are and what it’s like.
HL: Well I’m under a contract not to reveal that, fairly obviously, so I can’t tell you too much. But it’s not too bad. Lot of familiar faces. I’ve got a good poker game going with Brandon Lee and Vic Morrow. Things could be worse.
Void: Really not too sure about that, Heath, but thanks for your time. And thank you Mrs Chisel.
Mrs Chisel?
Shit.
