The Queen Is Dead, Long Live the Queen

How many performers get a standing ovation five weeks after they're put in the ground? A precious few -- maybe at the Oscars now and then.

Precious is definitely one word for the late Pamela Gordon, whose towering legacy on the local stage scene was honored with this week with a moving 90-minute memorial tribute at Evidence Room, one of the 66-year-old actress' theatre homes. Other words would include "mysterious, wickedly funny, and graceful" (playwright Kelly Stuart), "a gift to writers" (playwright Jennifer Maisel), "innately lively" (playwright Dennis Miles), "so frail, delicate, and beautiful -- and then she spoke" (filmmaker Jacques Thelemaque). Afterwards, I spoke to Shannon Holt, who called Pamela "the queen of the tribe" of L.A. theatre makers.

In attendance were such luminaries as Megan Mullally, Leslie Hope, Dan Butler, and David Schweizer. Highlights included actress Ames Ingham's teary tribute to her "theatre mother and sister"; a reading by Robert Fieldsteel from a wacky 20-year-old play script that writer/director John Cassavetes had tailored to Pamela's talents, opposite his wife, Gena Rowlands; and a closing tribute of clips from Pamela's wide range of on-camera work. This visual record is not all that remains of Pamela's indomitable, questing spirit. Critic Steven Leigh Morris -- who called one turn of hers "a cross between a phantom and an elf" -- aptly reminded us that there are "performances of Pamela that will live on in the minds of anyone who saw her." Or heard that dusky, husky voice, or that cackling guffaw.

If you listen, you can still hear its echo bouncing around the stages of L.A.