Wednesday, March 23, 2011

Elizabeth Taylor Dies and What A Dame She Was

I was busy writing this morning when out of the blue I hear from Chemgal that Elizabeth Taylor has died from congestive heart failure at the age of 79. I'm really sad about it, mostly because I discovered her great movies during my formative late teens and early twenties. The rent girl in Butterfield 8, the master of campy costume changes in Cleopatra, the sheer genius of a barely hinged woman in Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf. All great roles to which she brought great strength and creativity. It says a lot about an actress's talents when you can't even imagine another person playing the parts they so vigorously mastered. Angelina Jolie playing Cleopatra? I'm not sure I can get excited about that, even with David Fincher directing. They better cast Brad Pitt and get them both naked, am I right?

Regardless, she will be missed for many reasons. When you start out as a child star you either learn to adapt and develop a strong personality or exposure to that world will chew you up and spit you out. Taylor had her excesses to be sure, but she was a gutsy broad, in the best sense of the word. She love freely, married often and never gave a good Gaddamn what any of the tabloids said about it, and for that I salute her. I hope she's in heaven right now whooping it up over an endless bottle of Champagne with Richard and Roddy. Salut!

p.s. I know what you can do with all that joorey that's sitting in your home all lonely and unused. I'll pay for postage.

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