In Memorium, 2016

By Wolfen Moondaughter
February 6, 2017

In 2016, the Grim Reaper of celebrities seemed especially busy. Here at Tart, we did cover some of the losses that were of significant impact for many of us -- David Bowie, Alan Rickman, Prince, Gene Wilder, and Carrie Fisher. Now that the year has ended, we Tarts decided to say a few words about other lives that had touched ours before also moving on last year.

Wolfen Moondaughter, Asst. Reviews Editrix and Co-Art Director

Richard Adams. Watership Down was one of the most influential stories (both the novel and the movie, the latter of which I experienced first) of my youth. Every holiday, I watch the "Frith's Eve" two-part episode from the television series -- it's basically one of the only two Solstice specials I've ever heard of. His book Traveller, about the Civil War through the eyes of General Robert E. Lee's horse, left quite an impact on me too. And then there's Plague Dogs, both a book and an animated film, a dark tale about two dogs used as lab rats. I hope Adams got to see a bit of the upcoming Netflix animated series for Watership Down -- and that it does his work justice.

Kenny Baker. Aside from Luke (and, later, Rey and BB8), Artoo was my favourite Star Wars character, and Baker's manipulation if Artoo's body language played a big part in making Artoo the spunky little droid we all rooted for, even without speaking the language of the viewer. I also remember Baker from the imaginative romp Time Bandits.

Charmiane Carr. She played Liesel in The Sound of Music, an annual treat when I was growing up.

William Christopher. M*A*S*H was one of those shows that was always on while I was growing up, and while I don't have a lot of love for some edicts in Father Mulcahy's religion, Christopher's portrayal of the character set an example of kindness for anyone to live by.

Ron Glass. Part of the cult classic sci-fi western Firefly.

John Glenn. Being the first man to orbit the Earth, he was a big part of humanity's first steps into space, past the bubble of existence we call Earth and into the rest of the universe.

Florence Henderson. As Carol Brady, she helped raise a generation, myself included -- and I also appreciated her naughty streak, as evinced by her guest appearances on Whose Line is it Anyway.

Garry Marshall. I adored Happy Days and Mork and Mindy growing up, learned to appreciate Laverne and Shirley when I was older, and I quite enjoyed his film Pretty Woman. One of my mother's favourite memories of my great-grandmother was seeing that film with her, and hearing her laugh during it -- I wish I could have been there too.

George Michael. In Wham! and after, the man definitely has a great many songs on the soundtrack of my youth, my faves being the bouncy "Wake Me Up!" and "Faith", rousing "Freedom", pleading "Father Figure" and "One More Try", and sultry "I Want Your Sex"; I have his Greatest Hits collection.

Prince. (I know, he was covered, but I didn't manage to participate.) I like a fair few of his songs, but "Batdance" was the one I really couldn't get enough of, especially as a music video!

Debbie Reynolds. Sorry to say, I have yet to see Singin' in the Rain (a point I hope to rectify), but I loved her as the sassy grandmother of the Halloweentown movies!

Doris Roberts. She was the mother you loved to hate on Everybody Loves Raymond , and she played the role magnificently -- even managing to make her sympathetic when it counted.

Alan Thicke. Growing Pains was another one of those shows that was always on, and an example of a loving father is precious.

Anton Yelchin. He was fun as Chekov in "Nu Trek", yes, but more than that, I recommend you see Charlie Bartlett, Fright Night (it's kinda bad, and gory, but it picks up about halfway in), and especially Odd Thomas.

Katherine Keller, Culture Vultures Editrix

What an almighty horrible year 2016 was.

Florence King. Though I had very different politics from her, I always enjoyed the caustic wit of this writer and curmudgeoness, because she "did not suffer fools" and "enjoyed seeing fools suffer." A pity it is she did not live long enough to mock the reign of Cheeto Jesus.

Natalie Babbit. To this day, Tuck Everlasting remains one of the most unsettling novels I have ever read.

Richard Adams. Speaking of writers who had a huge impact on my youth, Watership Down was, next to The Hobbit, one of the earliest fantasy novels I read. As a child I loved the animated version (which I saw prior to reading the book) in large part because it is faithful, does not talk down to young people, and also because it was treated by its creators (and the studio) as a serious work of art. Years later, I read Shardik and Maia, and while both are excellent works, Watership Down is Adams' enduring masterpiece.

Marni Nixon. The soundtrack to My Fair Lady was in heavy rotation in my house as a child, and it's utterly disgusting the way that Hollywood studio politics denied her credit (and royalties) because they wanted to preserve the illusion that various starring actresses were actually singing these songs. Nixon had an utterly delightful voice, and it's a shame that she didn't start getting the respect due her until decades after she sang her most famous works.

Morley Safer. Every Sunday growing up we watched 60 Minutes. While I like and respect the current crop of journalists, it's just not the same without Ed Bradley, Andy Rooney, and now, Morley Safer.

Leonard Cohen. I was lucky enough to see Cohen perform at Caesars' Palace in 2009, and oh, what an evening! I know that most people were waiting for Hallelujah or Blue Raincoat, but Who By Fire and If It Be Your Will are the songs I most remember. His songs are the most beautiful fusion of poetry and music, and we were lucky to have such a genius amongst us.

Prince. My memories of 1984 are firmly intertwined with the smash hit soundtrack to Purple Rain. I remember watching his 1991 MTV Music Awards performance of Gett Off and gasping in shock several times. Hell, just about every obit and tribute essay out there mentions that performance because it was just THAT damn mind-blowing and still is, 25+ years later. I loved that, like David Bowie, he constantly re-invented himself and explored new ideas. While I wasn't as into his later music, because I feel that it declined after he was snared by the Jehovah's Witnesses (a borderline cult if you ask me), I am sorry that he suffered so much from debilitating pain and that an attempt to control it cost him his life.

George Michael. What an unhappy Christmas 2016 gave all of us. Wham! was the music of my tween years; I remember saving to buy their first album on cassette tape. By the time that Michael was re-launching his career with songs like "I Want Your Sex", "Faith", and "Freedom! '90" my musical tastes had changed, but yeah, I remember a lot of time spent dancing them, and the way that the videos for them were in heavy rotation on MTV. When he got busted for "a lewd act" by an undercover cop in the men's bathroom in the late 1990s, I remember thinking, "They still do that? Really? 1950s much? Don't the cops have anything else to do?" The feeling of damnit! when I learned he'd died was softened a bit by discovering how very generous and humble he was when it came to his works of charity, but frankly, 53 years was not enough. Fuck you 2016.

Writing this has gotten me a bit maudlin and angry. If you feel that way, then turn up the volume and shake what your momma gave you!