Some upsetting new evidence has emerged in the Heath Ledger case: Along with the prescription drugs that were found in the apartment, police also recovered "a rolled up $20 bill with narcotic residue on it," and "several drug packets containing an unknown substance." This was all apparently listed in the original police report, and sent to their labs for testing. [wcbstv.com]
Let's just get on with this. A round-up of where we are so far with yesterday's shocking death of Heath Ledger at age 28:
· An autopsy has proven inconclusive, and will take another 10 to 14 days before toxicology and histology reports tell us what caused his death. [CNN]
· Heath had pneumonia. [TMZ]
· Kim Ledger, Heath's father, made a statement to the press, confirming the "untimely and accidental passing of our dearly loved son, brother and doting father of Matilda." [skynews.com.au]
So how's The Dark Knight for goodbyes? Give us anything—Brokeback Mountain's heartache, Candy's cautionary tale of—gulp—heroin addiction, even Casanova (OK, not Casanova)—but not the The Dark Knight. Not that disfigured creep in the trenchcoat. Heath's last words to us can't be a menacingly growled, "It's all...part of the plan." His last note, not "Why so serious?" scrawled across a theatrical one-sheet in fingerpainted blood. Warner Bros. has issued this statement in response to his death:
"Honey, you won't believe the dream I just had." Sadly, this news is no dream: Suzanne Pleshette, besting even Brenda Vaccaro for the title of TV's Most Beloved Hoarse-Voiced Female, has died after a long battle with lung cancer. Of course, we'll always associate her with Emily Hartley, the better-half of The Bob Newhart Show, but check out how hot she was back in the day! [USA Today, IMDB]
E! News watchers over the weekend were likely stunned and saddened to learn of Brad Redfro's untimely death: While host Giuliana Rancic deserves credit for giving the tragedy the solemnity it deserved, we can't help but feel their moving tribute to the talented young actor might have been slightly compromised by their inability to get his fucking name right.
Brad Renfro, a child and then young-adult actor with a deceptively huge talent, died yesterday from as-yet-undetermined causes. Renfro's last big public splash came under perhaps the worst circumstances imaginable: Two days before Christmas 2005, the LAT ran a full-color photo of the unrecognizable former heartthrob in handcuffs, balding, chubby, and clearly in distress after being picked up downtown in an undercover drug sting meanspiritedly dubbed "Cancel Christmas." Renfro's drug use and run-ins with the law were no secret until that point—he was famously charged with Grand Theft 45-Foot Yacht in 2000—but the Skid Row arrest was definitely a turning point, the heartbreaking image inextricably linked with the actor from there on. Determined to turn himself around, he entered a live-in rehab facility in April of 2006, saying at the time that he was "tired of paying the consequences," and that he felt "blessed that I'm going through this now, rather than later. I'm still a kid. I'm 23."
Thought Monday's round-up was smothered in weak sauce? Just wait until you see today's!
· Jay-Z is retiring again—from his position as the president of Def Jam records. We totally foresaw this earth-shattering development when he tellingly rapped, "I hydroplane into fame/Come'n down with the Dow Jones/When the clouds come we gone" on "Umbrella." [Variety]
· "Classic" acts dominated 2007's concert business, with half of the top 20 tours having started their careers in the '70s. We set this news to the comforting strains of The Eagles' "Long Road Out Of Eden," evocatively covered in proto-spiritual sand dune imagery and available at a Wal-Mart near you. [Variety]
Former pin-up girl, Chairman of the Board-squeeze, and B-movie star of Guns Don't Argue and The Monster of Piedras Blancas Jeanne Carmen died of lymphoma Thursday at the age of 77. Her groundbreaking efforts in the busty blonde arts paved the way for our current generation of panty-allergic starlets. [Yahoo]
Oh, sadness: Jazz legend (and, like us, a Montreal boy) Oscar Peterson, widely considered to be one of the greatest pianists of all time, has passed away. We think Diana Krall did a great job of giving Oscar his due, even if she was shilling for Lexus at the time. And we've also thrown in a 1958 performance of "A Gal in Calico." Rest in peace, to the cat from Little Burgundy. [Reuters, YouTube, YouTube]
John Berg, a character actor you may recognize (we didn't) from shows like House M.D., NCIS, and Monk, has been found dead at his home in Van Nuys, from what authorities are saying was self-administered carbon monoxide poisoning. "'Life was treating him well,' said Liz Hanley, Berg's agent. Along with acting, Berg maintained a political blog in which he wrote that he was 'passionate about acting, and even more passionate about leaving the country and the world better' than he found it." Can we just skip ahead to summer now? [AP, IMDB]
Adieu to Dick "Please Don't Squeeze the Charmin" Wilson, dead at age 91. Writes the AP: "Wilson made more than 500 commercials as Mr. George Whipple, a man consumed with keeping bubbly housewives from fondling toilet paper. The punch line of most spots was that Whipple himself was a closeted Charmin-squeezer." Is it just us, or does that make the campaign sound like a series of subversive, 30-second porns secretly geared towards scat-fetishists? [AP]
Dr. Jan Adams, currently standing in the crosshairs of a TMZ firing squad (there's been five more posts since our morning round-up, including accusations of impregnating one patient and leaving a sponge in another), delivered this statement to Entertainment Tonight: "I want to first express my deepest condolences to the West family at a very difficult time. As a medical doctor practicing in this field, I hold sacred the bond of confidentiality that exists between the patient and doctor. Out of respect of the West family, and the absence of verifiable information, any comment without having first discussing that information with the family would be unprofessional." An Oprah spokesperson, meanwhile, told Extra that the talk show host who once featured Adams as a guest "DID NOT RECOMMEND DR. ADAMS TO DONDA WEST." [etonline.com, extratv.com]
We now have a name and a face to attach to the surgeon who performed the tummy tuck and breast reduction that would lead to Donda West's death: It was Beverly Hills cosmetic surgeon Dr. Jan Adams, whose website says, "My work has never simply been about giving someone a new look. It's about providing an individual with a new path to self-discovery and self-esteem." Apparently it's also about getting as much TV coverage as possible, as he's made "countless appearances" on "Oprah and Entertainment Tonight, CNN, E!, NBC, ABC and the Discovery Networks," in addition to being one of the four panelists on The Other Half, aka Dick Clark's The View with Prostates. TMZ has been all over this guy today, turning up a long list of DUIs, malpractice suits, claims of botched boob jobs and that he lied about his credentials, and license suspension proceedings. They also report that Donda's surgery lasted 8 hours, or twice as long as usual for her procedure.
The tragic death Saturday night of Dr. Donda West from what appears to have been complications following plastic surgery has done nothing for our already dour moods around Defamer HQ. Moms, after all, are supposed to make grilled cheeses on rainy days and be our dates for our first Best Screenplay nominations—not die senselessly from elective cosmetic procedures. A round-up of what we know so far:
George Osmond, father of Donny, Marie, Liesl, Friedrick, Louisa, Kurt, Marta, and Gretl, has sadly passed away this morning at the age of 90. The family's official website doesn't yet have anything posted, but if you have even a passing interest in Mormon psychedelia, we highly recommend a visit anyway. [Fox News, osmond.com]
We must now relay sad news, as crooner and showbiz veteran Robert Goulet has passed away today at the age of 73 while awaiting a lung transplant at Cedars Sinai. We know we recently highlighted his short-lived sitcom achievements, but for a more fitting tribute, we guide you to this medley of the buttery baritone's considerable vocal talents, as well as to his more recent self-parodying work in the memorable Super Bowl spot above. Sadly, it will no longer take just the "natural energy of Emerald nuts" to keep a mischief-making office-gremlin Goulet away.
Last surviving Rat Packer Joey Bishop, and Deborah Kerr, From Here to Eternity's sand-resistant love interest, have both passed on, at ages 89 and 86 respectively. We'd roll out our Rule of Threes shtick, but Teresa Brewer, a 1950s singer we've never heard of, has died too, meaning Mickey Rooney, Andy Dick, and the rest of the death pool favorites can sleep a little easier tonight. [sun-herald.com]
