In the twilight of his existence, at the age of 91, a unique congregation formed for Harry Dean Stanton—a living wake attended by intimate companions like Rebecca De Mornay, Ed Begley Jr., a former L.A.P.D. officer, an enigmatic individual named Mouse, and more. They reminisced about the philosopher poet of character acting, who departed this world leaving behind tales of Hollywood grandeur and an illustrious career punctuated by unforgettable performances.
On September 15, at 91, Harry Dean Stanton's curtain call echoed, leaving behind a tapestry of Hollywood anecdotes and a repertoire of enduring performances. Surprisingly, at the ripe age of 89, Stanton assumed his final leading role, the second since 1984's "Paris, Texas," in "Lucky," set to premiere later. Co-authored by Drago Sumonja and Stanton's longtime confidant Logan Sparks, the film offers a thinly veiled glimpse into Stanton's own life. Much like the man portraying him, Lucky embraces the vices of smoking, the zen of yoga, and an affinity for Bloody Maria. (Think Bloody Mary, but with tequila instead of vodka.) He proudly identifies as an atheist. However, when Lucky suffers a significant fall in his kitchen, possibly due to a stroke (though the film remains ambiguous), he embarks on a contemplation of his mortality.
The film captivates—a deep dive into the existential scrutiny of the Tao of Harry Dean Stanton, who succumbed to pneumonia in early July. While his inner circle was privy to his condition, Stanton deliberately shielded his ailment from the public eye. Perhaps he awaited the eleventh hour, ensuring his closest companions had the final say.
In August, over two nights, Stanton's dearest friends, including Sumonja, Sparks, Rebecca De Mornay, Ed Begley Jr., John Carroll Lynch, a retired L.A.P.D. officer, and the intriguing barfly Mouse, convened in Los Angeles. Their gathering at his favored haunt, Dan Tana's, involved late-night dinners, extensive conversations, and a commendable number of after-hours libations. I traversed from South Carolina, accompanied by Bret Easton Ellis, to partake in the festivities as we, the crew, bid adieu to Dan Tana's on both nights—a fitting tribute.
My acquaintance with Harry Dean dates back to 1982, encountering him on the set of "One from the Heart." Despite the 33-year age gap, he charmed me with a timeless pickup line: "Do you believe in magic?"
Ed Begley Jr. (actor, environmentalist) reminisces about his camaraderie with Harry, forged in 1974, closing down Dan Tana's nightly. Their connection endured through a job in Macon, Georgia, working with Warren Oates on the movie "Cockfighter." After a week, realizing the need to update Tana's about their well-being, Ed vividly recalls the call, Guido's voice exclaiming relief, thinking a lovers' suicide pact had unfolded with the duo mysteriously absent.
