Thank You, Alan

I couldn’t believe it when I first saw the news. There’s no way, I thought. To be honest, when I first started this blog, I had in mind to make Snape and Alan the grand finale, the cornerstone of my film and book analyses. Out of all the characters in the Harry Potter series, Snape was the most surprising, the most compelling, the strongest, the most constant. This was all building up to celebrate that unison of character and actor. I guess I can still make this my focus, but now it carries an uneven balance of bitter and sweet that will be significantly less enjoyable for me. I feel like I’m too late, like I waited too long to write about what I felt. Lesson learned, I suppose.

But we all have a limited time here, and Alan Rickman made the most of his. Gifted with a voice that delivers instant gravitas to anything that he said, Alan’s expressions, gestures, and stances made each character that he ever portrayed icons that will live on in film and theatre history.

One blessing that arises out of an early death is the outpouring of testimonials about a person’s lesser-known qualities. I had no idea how much Alan impacted the careers of the young actors he worked with on Harry Potter. Daniel Radcliffe’s story moved me more than any of his other work, to say the least.

So after a week of private anger and grieving for an acting career that, to me, seems cut short, I’m ready to just say thank you.

Thank you for Hans.

Thank you for the Sheriff.

Thank you for your dry sense of humor and glimpses of human frailty in Love Actually. And thank you for Sweeney Todd. That must have been so much fun.

But I want to say thank you most of all for Colonel Brandon and Professor Snape, two characters wrenched in multiple directions, by love and honor and truth.

You embodied these complex men so skillfully, so effortlessly, that I still replay your scenes over and over in my head, years after seeing the movies. A pause in your line, a quirk of your brow, the bow of your head, each guileless and straight to my heart. I attribute my love of writing partially to you, because you made me re-experience the books that I already loved so sharply. Jane Austen and J. K. Rowling are my literary role models, and you executed their visions brilliantly.

So thank you for the nudge. For reminding me that I don’t have all the time in the world, and that if I want to do something that matters, something that will take someone’s breath away, that I should start today.

Rest in peace, Alan.