This is one of the last photos of actor Heath Ledger.
The 28 year-old actor was found dead by a housekeeper at his apartment in SoHo, New York last week.
At the scene of death, six prescription drugs were found, including Ambien, Valium, anti-depressant Zoloft, Xanax, Zoplicone and Donormyl.
Inevitably, rumours have circulated that the death was suicide, driven by an infatuation with the death of folk singer Nick Drake and endorsed by circumstantial odds and sods. The Times reports that
In the disturbing video for the song Black Eyed Dog, named after Sir Winston Churchill’s “black dog” phrase for depression, Ledger used a hand-held camera to film himself slowly drowning in a bath.
Ledger's family and friends have denied suicide and a roll-call of depression-deniers have stepped forward, including an Australian artist, quoted in the Sunday Times newspaper as saying
He was very easy and professional to work with. He was not drinking, nor was he interested in drugs. He spoke very positively about his future and future plans. I believe his passing was an accident.
Without a definitive cause of death, it isn't surprising that people reach for their own conclusions. But is something going on beyond idle speculation?
Eight years ago, I made a documentary film that investigated the death of INXS-singer Michael Hutchence for Channel 4 Television in the U.K.
While the Coronor of New South Wales judged that the cause of Hutchence's death was suicide, there was significant and substantial evidence in the testimony he received to suggest accidental death.
As a result, Hutchence's immediate family urged that the artist was depressed and took his own life; while his lover Paula Yates and his brother argued that he died messing up on auto-erotic asphyxiation.
With Ledger, as with Hutchence, there seems to be a need for a conclusive narrative of death.
Some seem to want tragic lonely depression; others accidental mishap.
In life, we seem to be happy to understand human action in terms of needs and aspirations.
But in the case of death - and death in inconclusive circumstances in particular - we seem to want a larger, more epic narrative.
Why?
