The days of stars gone by: remembering Lauren Bacall

[dropcap]W[/dropcap]e were all dumbstruck and heartbroken when we learned of the loss of Robin Williams on 11th August 2014. The comedy colossus, who had brought laughter and joy to ourselves, our parents, and those younger than us, tragically succumbed to his bitter struggle with mental illness. As Williams’s close friend Billy Crystal said in his speech at the Emmys on the 25th August, “It is very hard to talk about him in the past because he was so present in all our lives. For almost 40 years he was the brightest star in the comedy galaxy”.

It was only recently that Lauren Bacall, eminent actress and singer of the Golden Age of cinema, also died at the age of 89. The Golden Globe and Tony Award winning screen siren, honoured with an Academy Honorary Award and a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame, was nothing short of a legend. She began her career as a model and soon rose to fame onstage and onscreen, starring alongside Marilyn Monroe, Gregory Peck, Betty Grable and Humphrey Bogart, to whom she was married for over a decade. She was a defining figure on Hollywood’s film noir scene as well as on Broadway.

Unfortunately, the vast majority of people remain unaware of her passing. The ill-fated confluence of hers and Williams’s passing bears a striking resemblance to that of Farrah Fawcett, known primarily for her leading role in the original Charlie’s Angels TV series, whose passing on June 25th 2009 was greatly overshadowed by Michael Jackson’s shocking demise on the very same day. Whereas Jackson’s death resulted in his circus-like apotheosis across the media, Fawcett’s eulogies were demoted to thin grey columns on the lesser pages of the papers. Is it solely because Jackson’s and Williams’s deaths were more controversial, or is it also because we honestly don’t care about the stars of days gone by?

We all know the famous image of Monroe standing over the air vent, holding down that iconic white dress, but how many of us know it’s a scene from The Seven Year Itch? How many of us acknowledges Charlie Chaplin as a comedy legend, yet have actually wept with both laughter and sadness watching The Great Dictator? Does more of a quarter of us know any Audrey Hepburn films other than Breakfast at Tiffany’s or Roman Holiday, not to mention her awe-inspiring life off-screen?

In November 2013, the eponymous host of America’s Jimmy Kimmel Live interviewed passers-by in West Hollywood in a piece about how they felt regarding the recent passing of legendary actress Eliza Deuchain. Never heard of her? That’s because she doesn’t exist. He had made her up. But upon being questioned, people said with great sorrow and sentimentality, “it’s always sad when one of the greats leaves us”; “her acting was real”; “you will always be missed”; “you were an amazing classical beauty”.

One man even said how she inspired him to come out as gay.

Albeit a fun skit on a chat show, upon examination it proves to have been a somewhat revealing social experiment. It shows us that it’s not the individual actor or actress we care about, it’s the idea of them which we love. Maybe because it’s cool to like it? Or maybe it genuinely is because we are tired of today’s clichéd, formulaic, CGI-saturated blockbusters. But if that’s so, then why aren’t we actually watching in awe the likes of Ingrid Bergman, Cary Grant, Marlene Dietrich and James Stewart?

It’s not a crime to dislike or not particularly care for cinema’s grandiose and sparkling yet bygone and antiquated era. Each to their own. But if we are to subsume ourselves in nostalgic reverence of the past, then let it be for honest reasons.

There were films of all statures and qualities – from mediocre to astounding – back then equally as
there are today. But in the grand scope of cinema, Lauren Bacall stands on a podium of legends. Her ability to captivate her trademark sultry, feline mystique yet also embody such illuminating vivacity makes her truly unique.

Just because her death was not at a young age, nor embroiled in controversy, that does not mean she should slip unnoticed by generations old and young.
In fact, heartfelt recognition of a peaceful passing such as hers would indicate true artistic appreciation of the days gone by, whereby we don’t need to prop ourselves up on shock factor crutches to enable us to mourn.

It is thus with dear respect and admiration that I mark the death of a true legend; and, to quote Madonna’s Vogue: “They had style, they had grace, Rita Hayworth gave good face. Lauren, Katherine, Lana too; Bette Davis, we love you”.