At the 2006
Denver Film Festival, it was my privilege to host an onstage Q&A with Scott
Wilson, the exceptionally versatile and talented character actor who passed away Saturday at age 76. And I would like to share my indelible memory of something
that happened that evening.
Wilson was in
Denver to receive a well-deserved lifetime achievement award, and as often
happens when a festival bestows such an honor, our program was preceded by a
montage of clips illustrating the honoree’s performances in notable films. In
Wilson’s case, there were clips from In
the Heat of the Night, In Cold Blood,
The Great Gatsby, The Ninth Configuration — and Monster, the 2003 drama in which
Charlize Theron gave an Oscar-winning performance as serial killer Aileen
Wuornos, and Wilson made every second count during his brief but brilliant turn
as her final victim. (Ironically, Wilson also was on view at the Denver Fest that
year as a “retired” serial killer in the darkly comical slasher-movie burlesque
Behind the Mask: The Rise of Leslie Vernon.)
As the clips
were screened for the audience, Wilson and I stood in the back of the theater,
waiting for our cue to walk to an area in front of the screen and face the
crowd. We had met earlier that day, and enjoyed each other’s company during a
lengthy conversation about his career. (He seemed especially happy, and just a
tad surprised, when I told him how much I loved his performance in Krzysztof
Zanussi’s A Year of the Quiet Sun, a 1984
drama that has never gotten the attention it deserves, even after Roger Ebert aptly
designated it a “Great Movie” in 2003.) And so, as we stood there in the
darkness, it felt only natural to rest our arms on each other’s shoulders, as
new acquaintances preparing for a joint venture.
But when the
clip from Monster began, I couldn’t
help noticing that his arm started to tremble.
At first, I
simply assumed that he was experiencing some pre-performance jitters, or a
touch of stage fright. (You might be surprised to know how many times I have
noticed such nervousness in actors and actresses. Something very similar
happened several years earlier when I greeted Warren Oates before a small press
reception for Stripes in Dallas; when
he spotted me there, just a few hours after I had interviewed him on the
location of a movie he was shooting in Big D, he walked over, greeted me
warmly, and said, “I’m glad to see somebody I know here.” His arm also was
shaking as he placed it on my shoulders.) The longer the scene continued — and
if you’ve ever seen Monster, you know
how excruciating it is — the trembling accelerated, and his breathing sounded
forced. I actually found myself holding Wilson tighter, for fear he might swoon.
Of course,
he didn’t, and probably I was foolish to think that he would. But, then again,
maybe not.
Here’s the
thing: Up to that moment, I had never really considered what it must feel like
to watch yourself on the verge of being killed — and spending your final
moments begging for your life. Yes, of course, it’s acting. But if you’re a truly
great actor — which I think Scott Wilson most certainly was — and you thoroughly
immerse yourself in the character you’re playing, to the point where, however
fleetingly, you actually become that
character, what is it like afterwards when you see yourself die? Especially
when you see that death on a literally larger-than-life screen?
I often say
that, even though a person may die, he or she remains forever immortal on
screen. Scott Wilson had already guaranteed a kind of immortality for himself before
the Denver Festival Q&A. (During which, not incidentally, Wilson was funny
and gracious and forthcoming, and unabashedly grateful for the lifetime achievement
honor.) He went on to attract a new generation of admirers with his portrayal
of Herschel Greene in the popular cable series The Walking Dead — when I called him a few years back while he was
at a fan convention, he sounded very much like a man who had won the lottery while
he described viewer reaction to his character — and he continued to make potent
impacts in TV and film roles large and small. (Most recently, he was
ferociously convincing as a murderously mean SOB opposite Christian Bale and
Wes Studi during a late scene in Hostiles.)
He will long be remembered for the many characters he portrayed.
But I admit: I
will remember him best for the moment we shared at the Denver Film Festival
over a decade ago, and which now I have shared with you.
