2017 Didge Digest Yearly Yap (Part VI)

Right past the crack of midnight, I wish you welcome! Thanks for coming back once again to see me rip 2017 a new one, and I certainly hope you enjoy your stay!

Last time we took a look into the worlds of music and movies where we damned Despacito to hell, praised flicks like Jumanji and Thor: Ragnarok, and of course crunched numbers and waxed prose on whether 2017 was a successful year for movies or not.

For Part Six, it's time we mourned and reflected on the lives and accomplishments of some of the greats that left us in 2017.

If we thought 2016 was a tough year to stomach, 2017 did its best to punch us there repeatedly.

It reads like quite a venerable list; several names from blessed childhoods, from memories of sport, unforgettable comedians, comic geekdom and more departed for the crossroads, and we must say farewell and Godspeed for the ones who left us.

So get your tissues ready, take pauses between breaths, and join me as we salute our fallen.

For Whom the Death Bell Tolls:
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As another stadium full of souls departed this Earthly plane, a massive comic convention full of fans just disappeared in a puff of smoke, we find ourselves once again ending the year reflecting on death and dying.

A morbid way to nearly finish this recollection, but it stands to reason that it must be done.

Last year proved to be a very difficult sort of year for movie, music, and sports fans; from my list we lost the likes of George Michael, Muhammad Ali, David Bowie, Leonard Cohen, and especially Alan Rickman, amongst a formidable list of names who were beloved across the world.

How on Earth could that be topped? Well, 2017 did its damnedest to try.

Let’s begin with the world of music. Over the last twelve months, 2017 took from us the likes of the irreplaceable Chuck Berry, the undeniable Malcolm Young, the incredible Fats Domino, and the undisputable Chester Bennington.

Chuck Berry, known throughout the music world for classic rock n’ roll hits like Roll Over Beethoven, Johnny B. Goode, No Particular Place to Go, and more, as well as his incredible showmanship and ability to entertain, passed away at age 90 from a reported cardiac arrest.

Though it was expected in a sense, it was still rather stinging to watch a man, who could potentially influence musical genres for centuries with his work, leave us like that.

He was a guy whose aura seemed to make him invincible, seemed to outlive any thought of him actually dying.

I could remember from memory the starting guitar riffs and strains of a number of his songs, not to mention the various covers that were produced in the wake of his successful releases.

And that’s forgetting to mention his various live performances. Whether it was his early beginnings, his prime or even as recently as five years ago, this man could perform dances and moves that’d make any gym buff blush.

Whether it was his famous duck walk or his one-legged hopping across the stage (since paid tribute to by God knows how many artists), he did things no man of any advanced age should do.

Of course however, the 1970s were a time of ego for Berry, as he toured around the country with bands that he thought would know his music no matter where he went.

The quality of his performances dipped and peaked, as touring bands were expected to just keep up; results were brilliant at their best, but downright awful at their worst.

But beyond all that, and I mean literally beyond, a few samples of his work would transcend the stars as they were made Golden Records to travel through interstellar space.

Dubbed the “Voyager Golden Records” they would continue to travel, in hopes of encountering alien life who’d take interest in the culture and life on Earth.

Malcolm Young, the man who formed AC/DC with brother Angus, and gave us classics like Long Way to the Top, Jailbreak, TNT, Highway to Hell and High Voltage (of dozens I might add), passed away at 64 from deteriorating health; dementia, heart problems and more plaguing, and eventually taking, his life.

Over the nearly 45 years this group have saluted those about to rock, they sold a staggering 200 million albums worldwide, with nearly 72 million of them in the United States alone.

Malcolm, as a rhythm guitarist, backing vocalist and songwriter, provided much of the core for that amazing success.

Much like Chuck Berry, I can remember quite a number of their intros and guitar riffs, especially one of my favourites, Long Way to the Top.

But more than that, they had incredible visuals to go with their music; Long Way to the Top was well-remembered for the flatbed truck travelling down Swanston Street in Melbourne, with each band member rocking out and closely followed by the Rats of Tobruk Pipe Band.

It would even be re-enacted nearly 35 years later to protest liquor licensing laws that threatened live music. Same place, same flatbed truck, and ten thousand strong marching down the street.

Bon Scott and Brian Johnston were excellent on vocals, the guitar riffs and sounds were amazing… But without Malcolm and Angus, none of those would’ve been possible.

We also had Fats Domino leave us from natural causes at 89 years of age. The Fat Man was a pianist and singer-songwriter who gave us a swathe of Top 10 hits, not only in one decade but throughout his career.

Mixing traditional rhythm and blues with saxophone, bass, piano, electric guitar and drums, he would go on to sell over 65 million records, and have several certified Gold Records within that lot.

Impressive on its own, but mix that with Domino’s anxiety, shyness and humility, and it becomes a great deal more inspirational.

The amount of fight he had to conquer mental demons like those is something I wish I could have, and hope can be built up in future.

Over the course of his career, he would become one of the first musicians to be inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, entered various Hall of Fames over 30 years, would receive the National Medal of Arts and Grammy Lifetime Achievement Award, and more.

There was even the time he was caught up in Hurricane Katrina’s destructive force, and somehow survived.

But apart from all that, the man and his music would become such an influence that he is considered a factor of breaking down racial segregation in the United States, since black and white youths would come together in appreciation of his music.

While not a sole contributor to that obviously, there’s no denying such an influence on society.

Lastly, there was Chester Bennington, a man who sang of his demons for decades before they finally claimed him in July last year. And my God, did he have a select list to choose from…

Sexual abuse, an ugly divorce, serious drug and alcohol abuse, physical bullying… And all before he turned seventeen.

However, he would work through the immense struggle to be signed up with the future members of Linkin’ Park, and together with Mike Shinoda and company, would go on to become the best-selling band of the 2000s, sell over 68 million records worldwide and win two Grammys for their work.

I didn’t listen to much Linkin’ Park growing up, but even I experienced my share as they played a bunch of songs on various music shows and whatnot. One Step Closer and In The End were songs I was familiar with to a degree, but that would discount dozens of other hits including Numb, Bleed It Out, New Divide and more.

To the world of movies and TV, and perhaps one of the biggest deaths felt in 2017 was that of Adam West, claimed by leukaemia at the age of 88.

The original ‘60s Batman and a damn fine voice artist in his own right as he portrayed himself as Mayor West in Family Guy, he over a sixty-three year career would do almost everything under the sun.

While we remember him for Batman and Mayor West, he would also perform in over two dozen movies and dozens more TV shows to varying degrees.

Guest-starring in several of the sitcoms we’ve come to know and love, he ensured that no-one would forget him any time soon. I certainly didn’t, and make no mistake, his prime came well before I could even be aware of such a thing.

I guess the Heavens would eventually use The Bat-Signal to call West to action, and dutiful as always, he answered.

The world got quite a lot sadder with the passing of Jerry Lewis, a comedic kingpin and movie star in his own right, who died from cardiovascular disease at the age of 91.

A superstar of slapstick comedy, one of few men honoured with two stars on the Hollywood Walk of Fame, and host & emcee of The Jerry Lewis MDA Labor Day Telethon for five decades, the man carved out one hell of a legacy.

Tributes and spoofs abound, from TV shows to cartoons to movies, have come to surface thanks to his incredible work; several episodes of Animaniacs, Hanna-Barbera cartoons and more that have put his routines and comedic lack of indoor voice to great use.

In addition to the tonnes of individual achievements and countless people he inspired, his Labor Day Telethon, from inception to his finish in 2009, would raise a ridiculous $2.45 billion for the Muscular Dystrophy Association.

Call it what you will, but that’s a generosity that probably hasn’t been matched before, and never will since.

Two forefathers of the horror genre in Tobe Hooper and George Romero would also leave us in 2017; the former who gave us Poltergeist and The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, and the latter being the Father of the Zombie Film with classics like the “of the Dead” series.

For better or worse, Romero’s work with bringing imagined zombie apocalypses to life on film set in motion an incredible set of events; great use of effects for the time, twists and turns that scared audiences senseless, and quality directing that would set in stone what was expected of a quality zombie film.

While today we have zombies that are more cliché than threat (unless done really well) the man they call the Godfather of the Dead knew the best ways to use these creatures, and made them into the terrifying monstrosities we know and love today.

Tobe Hooper, meanwhile, gave us two films that have stood the test of time since, The Texas Chainsaw Massacre and Poltergeist. Massacre would become the “Paranormal Activity” of its generation, grossing over $30 million from a tiny budget of $300 thousand, a 100-fold return.

Directing, producing, writing and providing the music for the film, Hooper created a film that is still seen as influential on the horror genre, over 40 years since initial release.

Poltergeist, meanwhile, would become one of the top-ten highest grossing films of its year, and chances are, would’ve handily won its three Oscar nominations were it not for E.T., another massively popular film of the time.

Still, it would’ve been hard to forget the effects of Carol Anne being sucked into that hellish dimension, the effects of one horrible hallucination and much more. 35 years ago, and I don’t think anyone could forget anything like that any time soon.

Robert Guillaume, who most of us would know as Rafiki from The Lion King series, would also sadly pass away at 89 years of age, after a battle with prostate cancer.

A man who made a mandrill an incredibly wise, fatherly figure to Simba, and beloved friend and minister to Mufasa (well, as far as Pride Rock animals go), Robert would also have lauded roles as the butler in Soap and its spin-off Benson, both sitcoms that parodied the concept of soap operas.

And in a rare first, he would become the first African-American to portray the lead role in Phantom of the Opera.

For me personally, he spoke words that still resonate with me twenty years after he said them. That I know of, he didn’t really have a lot of lines in the Lion Kings that he appeared in, but quality over quantity shone through as he made each of his spoken lines and actions MATTER.

But I guess, to use Rafiki’s own words to sum up… “My work here, is done.”

In addition, we had other esteemed names leave us;

Sir Roger Moore, of James Bond and UNICEF ambassadorial fame, ‘had his six’ when liver and lung cancer claimed his life at 89.

With films like Live and Let Die, Golden Gun, Moonraker and A View to a Kill within his extraordinary resume, a Commander of the British Empire designation for charity work, and a Hollywood Walk of Fame star, he became 007, and left as a GOAT.

Frank Vincent, known for his tough-guy roles in Martin Scorsese films like Goodfellas, Casino and Raging Bull, and even dabble with classic video game voiceovers such as in GTA III and San Andreas, would leave as a Don of Mafia roles when a heart attack claimed his life.

Monty Hall, long-time presenter of Let’s Make A Deal, lender of name to a famous probability problem, and philanthropist who raised nearly a BILLION dollars for charity, got zonked out of life’s game as heart failure claimed him at the stunning age of 96.

What made LMAD stand out was the audience costumes, a rarity now and certainly an implausible idea back then, which would work incredibly well.

Last but not least, Miguel Ferrer, who voiced the fearsome Hun overlord Shan Yu and even dabbled in superhero films (Iron Man series), action cop series (NCIS: LA) and Twin Peaks, would sadly lose his life from throat cancer at the relatively young age of 61.

I’d most remember him as Shan Yu, the vicious, commanding presence who spoke little, but made each word, and each order, count.

As a completely stark contrast to the happy-go-lucky, dim-witted soldiers of Captain Shang’s regiment, he was every bit the believable threat that could only be bested by Mulan’s guile, bravery and complete disregard for law even in the face of death.

“How many men does it take to send a message?” “One.”

And Ferrer sure as hell did so.
 
To sports now, and sadly we had our share of permanent knockouts, heavenly cross-overs and Loser Leaves Life matches, if we consider pro wrestling a sport that is.

Far as I’m concerned, given the real risk of injury and death, the competitive aspect and other factors, it certainly is even if the results are pre-determined.

We first say goodbye to Connie “The Hawk” Hawkins, who died at the age of 75 after amassing defining performances in the ABA, ABL and NBA in spite of being caught up in a points-shaving scandal and expelled and blackballed as a result.

This was unfair, as NCAA rules of the time prevented him from even participating in the first place.

In spite of his very rough start in his basketball career, he still pushed on to become one of the undeniable greats of the game, defining resilience and persistence with every day he played.

Jake LaMotta, who we briefly mentioned before, would also lose by permanent knockout due to pneumonia complications at the age of 95.

Known for his diamond chin that took as well as he gave, for developing what most boxers today call a swarmer or slugger style, and for his amazing 83 win, 19 loss record over nearly 15 years of fights, he was widely considered one of the best middleweight boxers to ever lace up the gloves.

He was also well known for his very turbulent life outside of the ring; in addition to owning bars, performing stand-up comedy, serving on a chain gang and even acting or having a cameo in films, he had also been married seven times, had admitted to several horrible crimes such as rape, spousal assault and manslaughter, and appeared as subjects in several documentaries and stage productions.

End of the day, he fought against life’s games like he fought his bouts; aggressively, viciously and taking everything on the chin. Perhaps as a person he won’t be too fondly remembered, for various reasons, but as a boxer, there’s no denying his legacy in the sport.

In the colourful world of pro wrestling, we lost several top-tier names of both wrestlers and managers alike. Bobby Heenan, best known as “The Brain” during his tenure, and best known for being considered the top professional manager of all time, would sadly pass away from organ failure, via remissive throat cancer, at the age of 72.

A sharp quick wit, an ability to draw vicious negative reactions and his incredible commentary work with Gorilla Monsoon made him grow into an integral, crucial feature of the 80s wrestling boom, as he managed ginormous heels like King Kong Bundy and Andre the Giant at WrestleManias II and III respectively.

Ivan Koloff, one of the men to slay the unconquerable Bruno Sammartino and end his massive eight year long reign as world champion, would also lose his battle with life as liver cancer claimed him at 74 years of age.

Back in the late 60s and early 70s, Sammartino was by far and wide THE one to beat; the man who would eventually sell out Madison Square Garden over 150 times in a stunning career. But with a single knee drop and 3-count in 1971, the whole world fell silent, as Koloff claimed the win. The place nearly RIOTED as a result of the shock victory.

He would spend over 30 years in the wrestling business, before becoming a minister and speaking openly and candidly about becoming a born-again Christian and his struggles with alcohol and drugs.

Writing books, touring the world and even being involved in a lawsuit against WWE, the premier wrestling company (like it or not), he would finally bow out merely a year and a half later, after a life well lived.

Next was George Steele, known around pro wrestling circles as The Animal, and noted for frequently biting down and snacking on numerous turnbuckle pads over the years. At the age of 79, he would munch his last stuffing before kidney failure claimed his life.

For over twenty years he would grace, or rather scare, pro wrestling circles as his green tongue, wild man persona, crazy antics and nonsensical words grabbed the attention of audiences far and wide. Once done, he would become a teacher, author and sometime actor, portraying Tor Johnson in Tim Burton’s comedy-drama film Ed Wood.

In addition, we would lose Jimmy “Superfly” Snuka, best known for his death-defying splash off a steel cage back in the 80s, against Don Muraco, which inspired countless others to pursue the sport, his various feuds against top villains like Roddy Piper, The Undertaker and The Million Dollar Man, and his occasional appearances in the modern-day WWE.

Sadly, we can’t ignore his rather tense past as he was eventually charged and later acquitted (due to mental health issues) of the 1983 murder of then-girlfriend Nancy Argentino.

With his health declining every day, he would eventually succumb to terminal illnesses at the age of 73.

And finally, in various other categories, we had the passing of Playboy Founder and media pioneer Hugh Hefner, and legendary comedian, actor and sometime voice actor Don Rickles.

Hefner, who advocated for sexual liberation and freedom of expression with Playboy’s publication, would take on a major risk by mortgaging his house, generating bank loans of $600 and raising at least $8,000 from investors in the early 50s (back when you could pay next to nothing for goods and services), and hit major success in the end of 1953, selling well past 50,000 copies.

From there, Playboy took off, breeding the concept of ‘centrefolds’ and beautiful women in scanty clothing way back when conservative eras wouldn’t dare allowing such a thing.

Though not without his share of controversies, and some might say questionable choice of charities, the man was and forever will remain a media and culture pioneer.

He would lose his life at 91 due to a quadruple whammy of causes; cardiac arrest, respiratory failure, sepsis and an E. coli infection.

Meanwhile, Don Rickles, after decades of angering and entertaining us with vicious, well-regarded insult comedy, for his popular guest appearances on TV talk shows, his occasional dabbling with acting (including as Billy Sherbet in Casino, a real great film) and of course, who could forget his role as Mr. Potato Head in the Toy Story series?

Known for heaping vicious lashings on audiences, celebrities and even mob figures alike, no man or woman was safe from his roastings.

Though he died from kidney failure at the grand age of 90, widely regarded as one of the best insult comedians ever, it could’ve been very different had it been for one fateful night in 1972.

Following a performance at the Copacabana that year, he befriended “Crazy” Joe Gallo, who took his merciless ribbings in good humour and invited him to Umberto’s Clam House after his show.

Finding an excuse and declining, Rickles had no idea of knowing that that night, a gunfight would erupt killing his new friend.

Had he gone, there likely wouldn’t have been a Billy Sherbet, Mr. Potato Head, or even decades more of venom-laced insults. Sometimes, saying no can save lives, starting with your own.

And so they were among the leaving legends, the heavens-bound Hall of Famers, the dearly departed that once graced us with their presence. We will never forget them, as their achievements, their legacies, their accolades transcend anything that most of us would ever be capable of. Vale and rest in peace to all those names mentioned, and may their contributions to society never be forgotten.

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Phew, after some 3,500 words of sombre reflection, we finally proceed with the ten-gong salute for all those who left us, and wish their families, friends and fans condolences for such tremendous losses.

Tune in for Part Seven, where I plunge through the murky depths of politics, as any reflective pundit would, with views on Donald Trump’s current year-long tenure as President, Malcolm Turnbull’s run as Prime Minister of Australia, and various state candidacies both at home and the US, maybe with sprinklings of other nations thrown in for good measure.

Your iron-willed patience and steel resolve is most appreciated, and I do hope you can stick around for the next one! Peace!