My dad’s taste in movies doesn’t take long to describe. If Clint Eastwood or John Wayne were atop a horse, my dad was all in. If they weren’t, he might watch a cop or war movie (it helped if Clint or John were in it). He also had an abiding affection for Ralph Macchio’s Karate Kid movies, even if Macchio’s anti-aging “condition” made it hard for him to keep their order straight. Otherwise, my dad, a farm boy and a marine, couldn’t be bothered by whatever his son was watching on the television.
My dad wasn’t blessed with good health, despite his strapping stature. Ed Toll was the very definition of “country strong,” standing six feet two and weighing 250 pounds. He had hands like a pair of catcher’s mitts, and once, in a fit of pique, I saw him destroy a solid wood workbench with his bare hands. But my dad was also prone to blood clots. One caused a heart attack, and it slowly killed him over twenty-four years. He was also exposed to Agent Orange in Vietnam, which weakened his heart further. To top it off, he had a very bad back that necessitated a difficult surgery, requiring six metal plates to be inserted between his vertebrae so he could walk again.
At this point, you might be wondering what any of this has to do with James Van Der Beek? I’m getting there.
The year my dad had that back surgery, Dawson’s Creek had been canceled for fifteen years. If I were to invent a show my dad would have no interest in, the trials and travails of four East Coast teens growing into adulthood in a coastal Massachusetts town would probably be it. So, imagine my surprise when I came to visit my dad each night of the three-day recovery, and he was in bed, watching a Dawson’s Creek marathon. I actually wondered if he was okay. I even asked the nurse if his pain meds might be making him loopy. “Maybe a little,” she said.
I myself had never watched a single second of it before then. Still, there was something comforting about sitting next to my dad’s bedside watching an earnest melodrama about young people trying to sort through their lives without the use of a horse or a gun, and without kicking anybody.
When Dawson’s Creek first aired in 1998, it was so popular that it practically kept the fledgling WB network afloat all by itself. By the time the series ended in 2003, the show had made stars of its four leads: Michelle Williams, Katie Holmes, Joshua Jackson, and James Van Der Beek. The last of that foursome got the first taste of success outside of Dawson’s Creek, playing a high school quarterback in Texas with gridiron dreams in 1999’s Varsity Blues. While the film now looks like a poor man’s Friday Night Lights, there was no question that Van Der Beek looked every bit the star. It didn’t hurt that the film was a hit, too.
Despite getting that first career bounce from Dawson’s Creek, each of his co-stars would go on to greater success than Van Der Beek. Holmes had notable roles in the Oscar-nominated Pieces of April, Wonder Boys with Michael Douglas and Robert Downey Jr., The Gift with Cate Blanchett, and the first film in the Dark Knight trilogy, Batman Begins. Jackson found consistent work on television in Fringe, The Affair, When They See Us, and Dr. Death. Most impressive of all, Williams has become one of the most feted actors of her generation, having received five Oscar nominations and four Emmy nods (winning for Fosse/Verdon).
Unfortunately for Van Der Beek, his strong work as a drug dealer in the Bret Easton Ellis adaptation The Rules of Attraction was overlooked. Other big screen projects with Van Der Beek in primary roles (Texas Rangers, Standing Still, and The Plague) made even less of an impression. The issue for Van Der Beek wasn’t one of talent, commitment, or, certainly not, good looks; it was largely one of luck–his wasn’t great. There were exceptions, though. Van Der Beek twice played versions of himself to wry effect: on film in Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back, and especially in the all too short-lived Krysten Ritter-led sitcom, Don’t Trust the B—— in Apartment 23. Van Der Beek earned many a laugh by sending up his Dawson’s Creek Persona, by playing an overly horny actor named, well, James Van Der Beek. Sadly, the show was canceled in 2013 after just two seasons, and Van Der Beek never got the chance to blaze his comic chops to such good effect again. Over the remaining twelve years of his career, his best role was a five-episode arc on the Emmy-winning Ryan Murphy show Pose in 2018.
In the last two years, Van Der Beek made news due to receiving the tragic diagnosis of colorectal cancer. At one point, Van Der Beek had a net worth of at least four million dollars, but the American health care system ate away at his fortune as the cancer was eating away at his body. Just last year, the actor was forced to sell off memorabilia from his two most significant projects (Dawson’s Creek and Varsity Blues) to pay for his treatment.
Van Der Beek’s struggles with the American healthcare system bring me back to my dad. Under the crushing weight of medical bills, my dad, who was a solid middle-class earner, never knew a day of his life over his last forty years on earth without the mental and financial burden of healthcare-related debt. No one should have to live like that. Not a construction worker, nor a once high-flying actor.
I thought about that yesterday when I learned of Van Der Beek’s death. Those few hours over those three days when my dad and I watched James Van Der Beek at the peak of his fame on a hospital television set have often served as a bittersweet and amusing memory. I never would have guessed that, less than a decade later, I would find another connection between my dad and Van Der Beek. This connection isn’t bittersweet at all. It is bitter only.
James Van Der Beek died on February 11, 2026. He was 48 years old. His friends have created a GoFundMe for his wife and children.
