Now probably is not the time to discuss her inability to parlay her initial burst of fame into a sustained film career. In all fairness, it must be acknowledged that when she actually had worthy material with which to work -- The Burning Bed, Extremities -- she acquitted herself respectably. Still, I think it’s safe to say that, for most of her life, she was famous primarily for being famous, and that she didn’t give her greatest, bravest and most affecting performance – as herself – until her sad but inspiring final act.
Thursday, June 25, 2009
R.I.P.: Farrah Fawcett (1947-2009)
My condolences to the family and friends of Farrah Fawcett, who lost her long battle to cancer today. I know the obits will emphasize her heyday as a ‘70s sex symbol – thanks to the indelible impact of Charlie’s Angels, from which she alighted after only a single full season, and a revealing poster that graced the bedroom walls of hormonally inflamed teen boys everywhere – but I have much fonder memories of her sporadic appearances as the elusive object of David Janssen’s bemused desire in Harry O (1974-76), a cult-fave TV series (and, trust me, I'm a proud member of that cult) that is long overdue for an authorized DVD reissue.
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