Bob Hoskins

(Bob Hoskins : October 26, 1942 – April 29, 2014)

In many ways the passing of actors feels like the passing of friends, and be that a byproduct of media voyeurism or the nature of familiarity, the pangs of loss resonate in their wake. To call it grief would be an insult to those who knew the man behind the curtain, the genuinely bereaved, but the feeling of mourning can and will heavily hang in the hearts of many who did not, myself included. It is the nature of cinema that we hold characters and indeed actors too, close to our hearts, and while much can be attributed to writing, the face behind it, the voice and manner remain like a companion, guiding you onward. Few actors can promise to leave such a mark, and for most while their merits can be listed and their praises sung, their lamentation of loss remains academic and without the feelings or heart behind it. Bob Hoskins was not one of those actors, and any words that can be said of the man will be filled, I assure you with deepest sorrow.

Gruff often to the point of intimidation, Hoskins had the rare and masterful ability to humanize in sheer expression and tone. With an intimidating natural stance and gravelly voice, portraying care and warmth would seem to most a natural juxtaposition, but it seemed natural when applied to the man. From the bumbling but good hearted Smee from Hook to the charming Lou from Mermaids, there was a natural charisma to Hoskins that remained unique but ever warm. Perhaps an inner air of confidence coupled with the depth of his expression. I would of course be remiss if I didn't mention his performance as Eddie Valiant in Who Framed Roger Rabbit. Tough but seasoned with personal loss, his portrayal was impressive in it's own right, made more so by the ground breaking techniques and his ability to respond to them.

I know little of the man on a personal level, and the things I do have been garnered through interviews. A man of strong ideals and good will, that same warmth came easily to see, and reportedly was much a part of his character. I would like to believe so. What I do know is that the world is a sadder and colder place in his absence. I invite you all to take an hour or two to look over or discover for the first time, that warmth and kind candor that I for one will sorely miss from here onward.

Mickey Rooney

(Mickey Rooney : September 23, 1920 – April 6, 2014)

It's very easy to be, or to be perceived as insincere when it comes to memorial messages. We've all seen a thousand posts written to mark the passing of one man or another, and usually it's the same unenthused drivel that begins with a summation of accomplishments followed by a brief slathering of sentiment. I am passionate about films and movies and when an actor I've come to appreciate or recognize dies it strikes a general resonance with me. Mickey Rooney was one such actor. There are in turn actors who I shall not write of in passing, actors of either little talent, insignificance or who generally irritate me, and have no place in memorial upon this blog. This is my blog, and all posts within hold significance to me or my views. It would be fraudulent to write anything else.

Mickey Rooney's accomplishments are many, and yet for most, unknown to the general public. He was a legend of the silver screen and has performed within films too numerous to count. I'm sad to say I haven't seen the bulk of his work, and while there are several films I shall endeavor to watch, the majority shall likely go unseen. As such, I'm not prepared to write of his past achievements and accolades, which can be found with a lazy scroll through the general sources of wikipedia and IMDB, instead I'm going to write specifically of films I have seen and of my appreciation to a man who represents a voice of my childhood.

During his twilight years, Rooney lent his voice to animated productions whilst stepping away from the limelight. Whether this was by choice or a forced move of industrial ageism I can't be sure, but it is in this happy medium I recognize the man. With work portrayed in The Journey Back To Oz, Pete's Dragon, The Care Bears Movie and others, I can happily say these are films I watched with adoration, however schmaltzy they might be by my cynical standards of today. Animation in those years held a quality unmatched and unrivaled by today's standards, an opinion I hold firmly from my devout love in years past, and while many of you will be familiar with his portrayal of Flip in Little Nemo : Adventures In Slumberland, I myself find the most familiarity from his performance as Tod in the Fox And The Hound. Disney during their classic and renaissance periods set ablaze long standing passions in film that remain to this day, and that film is a part of that. In that there is enough I feel to justify sentiment. So, as I've rambled to this point, I would like to take the opportunity to thank Mickey Rooney for the memories, and hopefully inspire a few of you to look back at the films and people who helped to make your own childhoods special.