8419/21338 = 0.39455431624332177
The news of the murder of Rob Reiner weighed increasingly heavily on me all day. I don't think I really took it in straight away: I was upset of course, but it was senseless and surreal and hard to process. As the hours passed I accepted it was real and got sadder and angrier.
Reiner was the director and one of the stars of my favourite film, This Is Spinal Tap, but also of course an incredible body of work as a director, actor, activist and even podcaster. I had, of course been lucky enough to interview him in November 2023. It was one of those pinch me moments that my podcast had led to this. His people had approached me as he wanted to promote his podcast that claimed to have solved the mystery once and for all and of course I was very keen to remotely meet one of my comedy heroes.
I didn't know how willing Reiner would be to discuss issues beyond the podcast he as promoting, but he was pretty open to questions on his career and got on with me well enough to give me the news that Spinal Tap 2 was about to start production. I hoped he'd offer me a part, but he didn't take the hint and chose instead to give a part or my arch enemy Chris Addison. Oh Rob!
So it's not like I knew him, but I'd been gifted an hour of his time and I'd liked him and he had tolerated me.
Of course the circumstances of his death are so shocking and horrific, not only the manner, but the person who it seems likely murdered him and his wife Michele.
It's heartbreaking in every way and the murderer is clearly a troubled individual. I fucking hate him though. I may be way off the mark but it reminded me of John Lennon's murder. A failed individual killing someone with talent and potential. Of course there are whole other levels to this, but I made the mistake of watching an interview with Reiner and the accused and it was hard to escape the conclusion that someone with talent and love was trying all they could to help someone who was not talented and ungrateful.
I was angry with him, but also with myself for my morbid curiosity. I should not have gone there.
The only positive thing you can do on such a horrible day (and weekend and month and year and decade) is to celebrate the life and the talent and the Reiners achieved so much. Michele was an accomplished photography and apparently took the photo on the cover of Trump's Art of the Deal (which makes his disgusting comments today all the more unpleasant) and Rob did so much for comedy that it's impossible to do more than pick out a couple of personal favourites.
Of course loads more amazing facts came out during the day, including the fact that Reiner had helped save Seinfeld from cancellation.
There are some comedy heroes that I never got to personally thank, but I am glad I got to tell Reiner how much he meant to me and point out how underrated he was (even though he was highly rated) as a director. That run of early films is truly remarkable.
This evening my daughter referred to me as a testicle Cyclops. Which is a better bollock joke than I've come up with in the last five years of making them. Even on the worst days there are still laughs to be had.
