Famous people die every year. Each winter, the scroll of names and faces at the Academy Awards reminds us of that. Sometimes it's a short list. Other times it isn't. This year's might be too long to bear. But I always find it fascinating to watch the montage that the Academy puts together and see what mark they have decided these people have left on the industry. It can be a single role or one iconic shot. The lucky ones get a few more with mentioning.
Don La Fontaine didn't have a role that will make it onto an AFI list some day. His name will never be put up next to Spencer Tracey, Katherine Hepburn, Jack Nicholson, or Robert de Niro. But he was able to leave a legacy like few in Hollywood ever get the chance to. His legendary voice has created the gold standard for how a movie trailer should make you feel, and his famous phrase "In a world…" will live on forever as part of our cultural lexicon, nestled beside "Bond, James Bond" and "Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn." and "Th-th-th-th-that's all folks!"
All the big names and pretty faces make it tough to remember sometimes that there are people behind the camera, too. They aren't generally the types that seek recognition, and I'm sure that if Don was still with us, our Lifetime Achievement Award would be going to somebody else this year. But he has certainly earned whatever small acknowledgment we can give here at the Mutant Reviewers from Hell. Thank you for everything you gave us, Don. Every trip to the movies is now a little less exciting, and I can only hope that in a world without Don La Fontaine, the previews will still be worth watching.
Just as difficult it would be to highlight any one specific voiceover by Don La Fontaine most worthy of being called the 'best ever,' it would be difficult to explain how much of an influence his distinctive voice has had on our enjoyment of films as well as pop culture itself. How much of our subconscious cinematic anticipation depends upon the dulcet tones of LaFontaine describing the action and drama soon to be viewable at our local theaters? It's fascinating to read the information available about his life and work, and see how imperative he became to the Hollywood machine because of the quirk of his arguably perfect voice and personal touches of his own, such as his signature "In a world where . . ." introduction for voiceover descriptions. So many of us almost certainly didn't notice his influence, for his voice always being there to the point of being an institution. All of us will notice his absence, for the nagging feeling we'll have in years to come when movie trailers just don't sound "right" anymore. Don LaFontaine: we salute you!
In a world without voiceover... in a land without rich, baritone narration... in such a place, we are all just a little bit poorer. Don La Fontaine belonged to that special subset of celebrities whose defining attribute or one particular role have come to outstrip their actual names. I'm not ashamed to admit that prior to Mr. La Fontaine's death, I could have told you the name of the Micro Machines guy before I would have recognized his. But not knowing someone's name doesn't equate to not respecting their work, and in Don's case, I don't think a single person who's seen a movie preview has failed to be impressed.
Whether it was a conscious "Wow, this guy is almost making me interested in this crappy-looking movie!" or a subconscious acknowledgement that yep, this preview just sounds right, every one of us has recognized and respected Don's work over the years.
But there are times when that's just not enough, when people deserve to have their names shouted from the rooftops. It's unfortunate that far too often this only occurs posthumously, and that such is the case with Don La Fontaine. But at the same time, the legacy he left behind will outlive not just him, but the movie stars whose names come more readily to our lips, but whose roles will be forgotten long before Don's magnificent voice ever will be. Twenty years from now, most of us will have difficulty remembering the name of the kid from The Sixth Sense, or Billy Ray Cyrus' daughter, or anyone from The Hills. But I'll bet even money we'll be able to instantly call Don's voice back into our heads, just as deep and warm and mellifluous as ever. That's a kind of fame you can't buy, and more than that, it's the kind of accomplishment that stands the test of time. So farewell, Don... your spirit may be gone to a better place, but your voice will echo through the ages.