This musing is not about an experience on set, or even, for that matter, about acting. It is meant as a reflection on something perhaps more meaningful to all of us who love movies. I trust it will be of interest to readers of Einsiders.

     Everybody has a favourite movie star. It may be the one who most impressed us when we were most impressionable-as children. Or maybe it’s someone we are more recently acquainted with-a bold, new talent who makes us laugh, cry or think.

     Movie stars, and movies for that matter, are an important part of our lives. We cannot avoid movies. In fact, most of us embrace them and carry on a life-long love affair with films and film stars.

     That is why we feel a certain personal connection with the men and women who appear 20-feet high onscreen at the local theatre. They are the stars who have affected us, entertained us and, over time, come to occupy a significant part of our lives.

     That is also why the death of a particularly beloved movie star creates in us a deep sense of personal loss. It is as if a good friend has left us. Irrational as this may be, (for we rarely get to actually meet these people) I’m sure every film lover has felt such loss. Consider the flowing tributes when James Stewart died. It was like losing a beloved grandfather.

     Dudley Moore’s recent death saddened me. I was never a huge fan of his, but I always appreciated his gifts. He could, on occasion, really make me laugh.

     Dudley Moore died of a terrible malady called Progressive Supranuclear Palsy, a degenerative neurological disease similar to Parkinson’s Disease.

     I was able to envisage this vibrant, colourful man experiencing the deterioration and loss of his brain functions, the inability to control his gaze, the atrophying of his muscles, the inability to walk, the difficulty and eventual inability to swallow, the dementia, the slowed speech, the reduced expression and eventual ‘masking’ of the face. These are all symptoms of PSP.

     The reason I understand this debilitating process so well is that my mother-in-law died of the same disease 14 months before Dudley Moore’s death. They both lived approximately the same amount of time from diagnosis to death. My mother-in-law lived with the frustration of doctors not knowing a great deal about her disease but with the great assurance of her faith, a devoted and care-giving husband and a family that loved her. Surrounded by family when she died, her passing was truly a profound and beautiful moment as she slipped into peace and the presence of God.

     When I think about Dudley Moore I think of his fame and his great ability to make us laugh. I also think about his several broken marriages and apparent unhappiness and poor self-image. I sometimes wonder if his passing was as peaceful as my mother-in-law’s, or if caregivers who loved him surrounded him. Because of these circumstances, I feel almost a greater sadness for his suffering than that of my mother-in-law.

     There is common ground between Dudley Moore, the world-famous movie star, and my mother-in-law, who, though loved and adored by all who knew her, would be considered an ‘unknown’ in the eyes of the world.

     There is the common ground found in their shared disease. More importantly, there is the common ground of their shared humanity. That is what strikes me as important.

     It’s important because it reminds us that we are all equal. Equal in terms of basic human worth. Equal in terms of our frailties, flaws and needs. Despite their lives of immense privilege (and perhaps even greater ego), movie stars are people, like you and I, no matter how much importance we, or they, may project onto them.

     It is tempting to fall into the trap of believing the delusion that movie stars lead lives more meaningful and productive than our own. This delusion is a matter of perspective, encouraged by the way movies sometimes distort our perspective of life.

     Disease and death remind us of the essential humanity that binds us all. Such a reminder is imperative in a world which places performers on pedestals and devalues self by exploiting the all-too-human tendency to want what we do not have.

     I am compelled to share these observations because I believe it is imperative that we reclaim perspective in our lives. We will undoubtedly continue to enjoy and appreciate films and film artists who thrill and move us with their work. What we must guard against is our tendency to revere. Film is not the only source of information in our lives. Film stars are not the answer to the spiritual void many people feel in their search for Truth. Film-though it can be much, much more-is entertainment. Film stars are people who entertain. It is folly to live our lives envious of enormous wealth and success, to want an illusionary lifestyle over reality and to project an exemplary value on another human being simply because of their perceived enjoyment of these possessions.

     And so I would suggest this reminder that we are all ‘a part of the main’ (to quote John Donne) is relevant to the pages of an entertainment journal devoted to film. In an age where film is frequently dominated by special effects and alien life forms, it is the common denominator of our shared humanity that really lies at the heart of the film going experience. Strip away the trappings and exoticism of STAR WARS and you will still find individuals dreaming, living and loving.

     It is humanity that makes film significant. It is the human experience, captured artistically and universally, that makes a great film.

     That which is depicted on film never dies. This is the great achievement and the great deception of cinematic art. As the part of our humanity that struggles to define our mortality finds passing satisfaction in the preservation of self on film, it must never find fulfillment. The depiction of reality is not reality. Our desire for immortality cannot be quenched through celluloid.

     Film may help us find Truth, but it can never be a substitute for it.

     Dudley Moore’s passing is a reminder of his, and our own, mortality. His suffering is our suffering. His performances on film, captured forever, are a gift from an outstanding artist to an appreciative audience. We are thankful for this gift. But we are more thankful that he lived and loved.

     It is entirely possible that Dudley Moore’s greatest achievement was drawing attention to the horrible disease that consumed him. Because of his high profile, more research is being done to find the cause and a cure for Progressive Supranuclear Palsy.

     In the end, that is a legacy greater than any film.

Jon Ted Wynne