I first saw Kris Kristofferson in the Barbra Streisand remake of A Star is Born. I can’t say that as a child I fell in love with the guy. But over time, as I grew up, I began to appreciate him for everything he offered us – as an actor, as an artist, as a man.
Martin Scorsese has been in the habit of sending out statements each time one of his good friends passes on. Here is his tribute:
Ah, back when movies were good, when characters didn’t have to pass character tests or push an ideology upon viewers. They could just be real.
Roseanne Cash left an Instagram post with photos of herself with Kristofferson, writing:
Here was a man. A man I knew most of my life. A piece of my heart and family history. I expected he’d leave the planet fairly soon but it doesn’t change the magnitude of the loss. And yet we will always have him— his enormous legacy, his resonant spirit, the lasting power of his authenticity, his staggering gifts as a poet— in word, on screen, in his being. For the last several decades, there was no Kris without Lisa and her beauty and steadfastness is a constant inspiration. I send you all my love, Lisa. Travel safe, dear brother. I will always love you.
The tributes have been pouring in all over social media. I think he broke the mold. There can be many imitators, but there will never be another one like him, with his wide spectrum of talents.
Here he is singing with Russell Crowe:
If you grew up with this you were never going to get there with Bradley Cooper’s version, no offense. It was an honorable try but…come on.
The gift of Kris Kristofferson was how his songs made so many other people really famous and he seemed fine with that. For example, there will never be a better version than Me and Bobby McGee than the one by Janis Joplin:
Humble, brilliant, gorgeous. How does it even happen like that? Well, it did. It happened. Rest in Peace Oh Great One.
88 years and gone too soon.