GENE WILDER, RIP
I was glad to see that people of all ages were so dismayed about the loss of wonderful Gene Wilder a few days ago. I know that Mr. X and I have loved him from Day 1 (and I really do mean Day 1—more on that in a minute,) but I rarely ever heard anyone else, outside of show biz pals, mention him. But then when he died earlier this week, people kept calling me about it, bawling their eyes out. They were all distraught, even though not one of them knew him personally.
And surprisingly, (because Gene was so my kind of person,) neither did I. I usually don’t write tributes to people I’ve never even met, but I had to make this one exception because, well—it’s Gene Wilder!
Strangely enough, I was actually at Gene’s house once, when he was not. He and I had a mutual very dear pal, British screenwriter Clive Exton, when I was a young actress. I loved hanging-out with older peeps in the biz, from whom I was smart enough to realize I could learn sooo much. Clive invited me to Gene’s house for a lazy poolside afternoon, and, of course, I jumped at the chance. I loved to spend time with Clive, anyway, but I was thrilled at the prospect of also meeting the amazing Gene Wilder. When I got there, I was disappointed to learn that Gene was out of town, and had just given Clive his house for the week-end. But I tried to use my Pure Imagination (get it?) to feel his presence there.
The weird thing is that, when I was a young teen, I did not fully “get” Gene Wilder. He definitely made me laugh, but he was just weird. I had never seen an actor like that. But I came to realize that that’s exactly what made him so special.
Gene Wilder as Willy Wonka. That iconic film should have never been re-made.
Now, here’s what I meant about “Day 1” in the beginning of this column. I came out to Los Angeles from Brooklyn when I was a teen-ager. I met Mr. X on one of my first nights here, and went out with him for the first time a couple of nights later. I had never before met anyone who loved movies, especially old ones, as much as I did. (And still do.)
On our first date, we went to a couple of special little movie houses, (which I perceived as mysterious and romantic—actually, still do!,) and saw two films. The second was the ’40s classic, Meet John Doe, but the very first film we saw together was Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. Mr. X had seen it before, but I, (I’m ashamed to say,) had not even heard of it! Watching Mr. X adore every little nuance of Gene Wilder’s performance made me love them both even more! (Yes, I was in love with Mr. X from the moment I laid eyes on him. But that’s a story for another day. Several other days, really.)
Gene Wilder and Zero Mostel in The Producers.
As if all that fun was not enough, we went back to his brand new apartment, that he had just moved into that day, and watched—what else?–The Producers—on TV! Seeing it through his eyes made me appreciate Gene Wilder even more than I already did at that point.
For those of you who have the time during this holiday week-end, I heartily suggest at least one day of Gene Wilder movie viewing. That’s probably the tribute the genius actor would love most.
RIP, Gene Wilder.
Gene and Karen Wilder.
I have to add one big note here: While it may be romantic to think that Gene will be re-united in the afterlife with his third wife, Gilda Radnor, I wish that every idiot would stop saying that—he leaves behind a devoted widow of twenty-five years! Her name is Karen Boyer, and, from what I’ve read, she seems like a very kind ,caring person. It must be hard enough to lose the love of your life, but to keep hearing that people are happy that he’ll “finally be” with a former spouse, (to whom he was married for a mere five years,) must make it that much worse. So, please have at least a modicum of compassion for this woman, and stop bringing-up Gilda. Karen took care of Gene for all these years, and especially the last three, when none of us even knew what they were going through. Gene died holding her hand. Period. Please let both of them have some peace.
