OBITUARY: Jason David Frank (1973–2022)
TL;DR: If you are in crisis, call the U.S. National Suicide Prevention Lifeline, a free, 24-hour hotline, at 1.800.273.8255. If your issue is an emergency, call 911 or go to your nearest emergency room. Outside of the U.S., please call your nearest hospital for local resources, or check this resource guide.
I honestly don’t know what to say, but I’m gonna say something anyway —
Jason David Frank was an amazing martial artist, who many of us know as the American version of the Green Power Ranger from the 1993 Saban TV show “Mighty Morphin’ Power Rangers”. He played Tommy Oliver, a guy that beat the Power Rangers by himself as a bad guy, then became their leader as a good guy. This character continued to show up in the Power Rangers universe as an elder mentor to future Rangers, even going so far as to become an archaeologist to stay close to any Ranger artifacts.
Mr. Frank’s off-screen persona was supposedly great, as anyone who’s met him can say they gave him respect and he gave it back (with few exceptions). He was even able to parley his popularity into MORE Ranger-themed productions, namely the Power Rangers x Street Fighter mobile where he teamed up with Ryu and Chun-Li and made them Power Rangers. Despite this amazing behavior, it was his on-screen persona as Tommy Oliver that really left a mark.
When Jason David Frank played Tommy as a bad guy, kids were stressed out that so much power could be in one person. Playing outside as Power Rangers in the park or in the yard, you had 2 choices: be Red Ranger because he’s the leader…OR be Green Ranger and be the guy who’s better than the actual leader. Stuff got real confusing when he became the Red Ranger…or maybe not at all. That said, Mr. Frank’s death by suicide at the age of 49 truly gave me pause because it reminded me of other deaths — namely Chester Beddington of Linkin Park and George “Superman” Reeves. All three men had rabid fans whose lives were changed by their performances, and no one could take that away from them, but as I write about them I believe they yearned to grow beyond what fame brought them.
George Reeves played the role of DC Comics flagship super-hero Superman for American children on television in the 1950s. When the show was over he couldn’t find the work or roles he wanted. Typecast as Superman, he was so depressed about it he committed suicide at a party held in his own house (or so the rumors claim) in 1969.
Chester Bennington had a wife and family, some measure of success, and lots of money from his albums and performances with Linkin Park. Despite these facts, HE WAS STILL DEPRESSED and took his own life. The diagnosis was a clinical one, long-standing before he became famous. This does not lessen the hurt left behind by his passing or the idea that he would want more out of life than screaming into a microphone about his feelings and not getting any resolution or closure.
If I apply this same ideas to Mr. Frank, that would mean he was probably depressed and…
- every time he was on stage doing his “SIC-AYAAA”s during his kata, he kept this inside.
- every smiling pic he took with a fan or autograph he gave, he kept this inside.
- every production was a distraction that kept him so busy he could not feel his own feelings.
…and we never had an inkling. By that token alone, he should have made a fantastic actor. Worst of all: we never got to see him in any other acting roles. We all knew him as Tommy, and maybe he couldn’t deal with being everyone’s childhood hero. But many of us only used our child’s eye when looking at this particular actor: He was our Superman.
But what if Jason David Frank wanted to be more — something different? To be an actor that reached beyond the tokusatsu and sentai genres? Mr. Frank never got to be a politician like Arnold Schwartzenegger, a scientist like Dolph Lungdren, a romantic lead like Wesley Snipes, or a charismatic movie star like Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson. The sad part is nobody was looking at him to reach those heights for any number of reasons. I believe this may have led to Mr. Frank’s tragic decision.
I have to say it: we have to let people grow. Give them a chance, even when they would be a bad option. Allow them the chance to fail, so they can learn to do better or do something else. If we don’t to that, it can lead to unintended consequences. The world’s graveyards are littered with people who wanted to do more but others — including themselves — blocked their path. So I say to anyone reading this: provided no one gets hurt, let that person who wants to try have their shot in an audition — do not pigeonhole them. Follow these rules and you might just have the next phenomenon or prodigy on your hands, or you could have a powerful villain turn into a good guy. Even better: the person will be in charge of their own destiny, which is a far better better gift than a Dragon Flute.
RIP Jason David Frank; may you become what you always wanted to be, wherever you are.
