The first time I saw him on the big screen was in Two Hands back in 1999 (just before the release of 10 Things I Hate About You in the States). I was in Sydney, Australia at the time, his native country, and it was hard to deny the wattage this kid we came to know as Heath Ledger exuded even then.

The first time I saw him in person was January of 2004, again in Sydney. My girlfriend and I were checking out Cold Mountain shortly after its release and, before the movie started, I noticed a murmur spreading amongst the audience, around me where I sat in the second row. I assumed somebody of some notoriety was in the theater with us, but paid it no mind and, a few minutes later, got up to use the restroom. In this restroom was a poster for Ledger’s latest movie, The Order, but I thought nothing of it (nobody did; the movie was terrible). On the way back to my seat, I passed by the front row where my eyes wandered to a pair of very sexy legs propped up on the half-wall there; they, I quickly realized, belonged to none other than Naomi Watts. Let me say this: the woman is beyond beautiful. This is what makes it all the more astonishing that I don’t remember Watts so much that day in Sydney. I remember her then-boyfriend Ledger, who was sitting next to her, a hipster’s fisherman-style cap pulled low over his brow. In person, Ledger had even more wattage than he did on screen. I couldn’t look away. For the rest of Cold Mountain, I didn’t watch Nicole Kidman on screen or Watts one row in front of me. I watched Heath Ledger shift nervously, simper, and grin boyishly, and it was glorious.

Over the next several years, I had a couple other run-ins with the actor. Twice more I sat behind him in auditoriums where his social anxiety was always evident. He was not terribly comfortable in public places, as near as I could tell, or at least not with being Heath Ledger The Actor in public places. Behind closed doors, perhaps he handled his celebrity better.

Later, I was supposed to interview Ledger for his eventually Oscar-nominated performance in Brokeback Mountain, but got Jake Gyllenhaal instead. On a couple of occasions, I also got to listen to acquaintance Ben Harper, a good friend of Ledger’s, sing Ledger’s praises as a human being. Harper loved Ledger so much that he wrote “Happy Ever After in Your Eyes” from his album Both Sides of the Gun as a lullaby for Ledger’s daughter, Matilda (I wonder if Harper can still perform the song after what’s happened).

Every almost-encounter I had with Ledger made me want to meet him even more. But it never happened.

That’s because on January 22nd this year, Ledger died of an accidental overdose. He was only 28 years old.

This week, he stars as the Joker in The Dark Knight -– a movie that what will be considered by most to be his final role and perhaps his finest performance (even though he’ll appear briefly in next year’s The Imaginarium of Dr. Parnassus). More than just “stars as the Joker,” Ledger is the one-and-only star of The Dark Knight, not Christian Bale. You can’t look away from the guy when he’s in front of you, just like that day in a Sydney theater in 2004. Instead of mourn him a minute longer, buy a ticket to The Dark Knight and celebrate his talent and, more importantly, his life and accomplishments. By grace, by happenstance, or by dedication to his craft, he deserves cinema’s eternal affection.

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