An artist left us in the summer...for reasons known only to himself. The 19th of August 2012 saw a tragedy unfold that people are still coming to terms with.
The tabloids had their customary field day, with the macabre guessing games, no surprise there. Other people (of which I am one) sat dazed and confused, but everyone struggled to comprehend why a man (blessed with conspicuous success and wealth) should choose to sacrifice it all so publicly.
The Red-Tops painted Anthony David Scott as a "Punters" director, making loud, clanging, populist nonsense for brainless multiplex cattle. To those who would agree with this theory I suggest you need your heads examining. Anyone who thinks what Tony Scott did was slight, or easy, should spend five minutes in the hell that is "A Michael Bay movie" (or with any one of the hundreds of "Bay-Clones" currently stinking up the Blackberry's of today's Hollywood hierarchy) and then revisit "Top Gun", "The Last Boy Scout", "True Romance" or "Crimson Tide"...and bask in the thrall of an artist at the very top of his game.
Living, to some extent, in the shadow of his brother, Ridley, did not seem to faze him. He pursued his own singular vision in everything he did. Creating a style that was endlessly imitated (Michael Bay step forward) but never bettered. Always testing limits, stretching boundaries and innovating technically; while bringing his painterly eye to every frame.
He, and Ridley, are influences on me and inspirations for me...and always will be.
I mourn his loss and, selfishly, the loss of all his future projects: his western (a Wild Bunch remake), his proposed "Warriors" reboot, his take on Mark Millar's "Nemesis" and, I'm sure, his "Top Gun" sequel would have rocked...and reminded the world, if any reminder were needed, of his directorial credentials.
Ridley's son, Jake, talked in a BBC documentary about his father's dark moods, calling them "The Black Dog". Maybe that same "Black Dog" stalked Tony? We don't know...and probably never will.
So, I say goodbye (with my poor contribution above) with awe, humility, respect and love (from one Geordie to another) to an artist whose loss will be felt across the film world for many, many years to come.
Excelsior Out!
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