Kris Kristofferson was one of a kind. He was a soldier, a scholar, a singer, a songwriter, an actor, and a cultural icon. Many people have been one or two of these things. Kris Kristofferson was the whole package.
Many years ago, I had the pleasure of attending the world premiere of the movie “Bloodworth” in Nashville. Kris starred in the film and was to receive an award after the film’s debut. I was seated one seat away from Nicole Kidman. Keith Urban was to her right, and Kristofferson sat directly across the aisle from me. I was in rarified air.
I had long been a fan of Kristofferson. I thought he was great in “A Star is Born” with Barbara Streisand (In later years, I came to believe that the Kristofferson/Streisand version of “A Star is Born” was better than the Bradley Cooper/Lady Gaga version), and I had long been a fan of the songs he had written, including one of my all-time favorites, “Me and Bobby McGee.” For what it’s worth, I prefer the Gordon Lightfoot version over the one done by Janis Joplin.
Anyway, I was excited to be at the premier of “Bloodworth,” not only to see Kristofferson’s latest film, but to hear the man speak after the debut when he received his award. Kristofferson’s performance as E.F. Bloodworth, a country singer who returns home to a dysfunctional family while battling demons of his own, was dark and gritty, and showcased his immense talent. When the film ended, the MC gave a short introduction for Kris, then called him up to get his award.
I saw Kristofferson struggle to get out of his seat. Finally, someone helped him stand (I’m fairly certain it was W. Earl Brown, the co-writer of Bloodworth and the actor who played Dan on one of my all-time favorite TV shows, “Deadwood.”), and then allowed Kris to lean on him as they walked up to the front of the theater. He gave a short, inarticulate speech, his words badly slurred, and then stumbled back to his seat.
For me, it was a sad affair, seeing someone I had long looked up to being humbled in that way. But the experience also taught me that no matter how talented or accomplished a person might be, they’re still human, and still subject to human foibles and weaknesses. Kristofferson battled alcoholism and drug abuse for many years. In fact, the roles he played in both “A Star is Born” and “Bloodworth” were only slightly fictionalized versions of his own life. He was a mess. But he was an intelligent, flawed, heartbreaking, creative, amazing mess.
RIP, Kris. Your life was an inspiration and a warning.
