R.I.P. Russell Zisky
R.I.P. Dr. Egon Spengler
I heard that Harold Ramis passed early this morning when a friend texted me. I found out about Philip Seymour Hoffman and James Gandolfini the same way. There’s something comforting about having a friend break news like that to you – kind of like one family member calling you to tell you that another family member has passed. The text came while I was sleeping and I saw it when I first woke. I did what I did the other times – I tried to go back to sleep hoping I would wake up a couple of hours later and it would have been a bad dream. Surely Harold Ramis couldn’t really be dead, right?
I’ve been dwelling on his death for a few hours now, reading various obituaries and tweets from people who knew him, worked with him, respected and loved him. Most deaths are sad but some just hit harder than others. This one hit hard for me. Harold Ramis was a writer who inspired me from a very young age. I can see a lot of Harold Ramis in my writing and I can feel a lot of Harold Ramis in my timing. I never had the pleasure of meeting him or expressing my admiration for him, but I always assumed he’d be a kind, thoughtful and appreciative man. That’s the way I’ll remember him in my head.
As a director, very few have done as much with so few films. Ramis gave us universally regarded comedic masterpieces like Caddyshack, National Lampoon’s Vacation, Groundhog Day and Analyze This. He also gave us underrated classics like Stuart Saves His Family and The Ice Harvest. But, as a writer – damn. What a resume: National Lampoon’s Animal House, Meatballs, Stripes, Ghostbusters, Back to School. Harold Ramis was the 1980’s. Maybe that’s what his death is hitting me so hard. The 1980’s are the decade I most identify with; I can trace my fondest childhood memories back to the 1980’s and the movies that made them so memorable. It’s like losing yet another part of my childhood.
As a performer, Ramis appeared from time to time. What always struck me about Harold Ramis, the actor, was the constant joy he seemed to have for his craft. Take any Ramis performance, whether it’s Egon Spengler in Ghostbusters or Seth Rogen’s dad in Knocked Up – the smile that man had on screen was something truly special. Harold Ramis loved what he did, he respected and appreciated his privilege of being able to do it and he shared that joy and gift throughout the world, many times over. I wonder if he knew how much he gave the world and if he knew how beloved he was? I sure hope so.
For me, his best film will always be Stuart Saves His Family. What a brilliant film. Based on a Saturday Night Live sketch, it could have been a disaster. Instead, it still stands the tests of time, for me, as the greatest thing to ever come out of that show. It’s so funny and sweet and filled with heart and real emotions. It’s got so much truth and warmth to it. That’s Harold Ramis. In all of his best works, he was able to inject so much natural humanity and simple wisdoms. He knew how to be funny; but, more importantly, he knew when to be serious. So much of his work reflected that. It’s funny because I was thinking a few days ago – “When’s Harold Ramis going to put out another film?” I rushed to his IMDB page and was disappointed to find he didn’t have anything down the pipe.
I didn’t know he had been sick. If I had, I don’t know that this would hurt any less. We’ll never get to see a new Ghostbusters film because the heart and soul of that franchise is now gone. We’ll never get to see that smirk on one of his characters in a film again. Luckily, we’re left with an incredible comedic legacy that will stand the tests of time. I miss you, Harold Ramis. I am happy because you were so joyous and filled the world with so much entertainment; I am sad because the world just got a little less wonderful.
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