Sure, other filmmakers had teased the notion: Quentin Tarantino had me considering (for the first and only time) what Madonna meant by "Like a Virgin" in the opening scene of Reservoir Dogs, and the all-talk windup to Pumpkin and Honey Bunny's diner stick-up was every bit as edifying as the robbery itself. Kevin Smith built Clerks around nothing but convenience-store conversation (from debating Death Star safety measures to retelling sexual shenanigans), and Richard Linklater raised sidewalk philosophy to something of an art form in Slacker. But I had never seen a movie in which one man could capture my interest for 80 minutes doing nothing but talking.

Watching Spalding Gray felt a little like being inside Woody Allen's head, without the tinny high-pitched voice and creepy girl-chasing antics. Here was an astonishingly intelligent man turning himself inside out, putting both his intellect and his obsessions on the line for all to see. Gray's Anatomy is certainly not Gray's only great monologue -- in it, he relives just how far he went in order to overcome an obscure eye condition -- but it's the perfect starting point for anyone curious to discover this lost talent.

Sitting at a table armed with nothing but a cup of water, Gray talks. And talks. And as he does, the backgrounds change and Steven Soderbergh's camera moves (yes, Gray's monologues have been caught on film by such acclaimed directors as Soderbergh, Nick Broomfield and Jonathan Demme), but everything seems to play out entirely in your imagination, sparked by his unique gift for detail and timing. Spalding Gray was one of a kind. Now that he's gone, I realize how fortunate we are that he shared his personality and experiences with us in Gray's Anatomy, Swimming to Cambodia and Monster in a Box.

[as featured on Moviefone.com]