Hollywood veteran James Marshall, best known for his Emmy-nominated turn in City Lights, is grappling with the deepest anguish a parent can face. His 22-year-old son, Ethan, took his own life last month, leaving a void no award can fill. Now, in a desperate bid to cling to hope, Marshall has launched a $195,000 fundraising campaign to cryogenically preserve Ethan’s body until science may offer a second chance.
“He was my greatest inspiration,” Marshall writes on his GoFundMe page. “I refuse to believe this is the end of his story.” In just three days, supporters have already pledged over $60,000, moved by the actor’s raw plea.
“I lost my best friend.” James Marshall opens up about preserving his son’s body in hopes of future revival. people.com— People (@People) June 10, 2025
The decision ignited a firestorm of emotion. Actress Emma Stone, who costarred with Marshall in The Long Road Home, tweeted her support: “I can’t imagine this pain. Do whatever you must, James.” View tweet.
Cryonics experts caution that preservation is far from a cure. Dr. Laura Kemp of the Cryonics Institute explains, “Current methods halt decay at –196 °C, but revival technology remains purely theoretical.” Still, for families like the Marshalls, it represents a lifeline to a future we can barely imagine.
Ethan battled severe depression, his struggle hidden behind a brilliant smile. Co-star Nina Rivera, who worked alongside Ethan on his only screen role, told People: “He was kind, hilarious, and haunted by shadows none of us saw.”
“He gave laughter to the world, but lost his own fight.” @NinaRivera remembers Ethan. twitter.com— People (@People) June 10, 2025
Beyond personal grief, Marshall’s campaign has stirred debate about the ethics and legality of cryonics. Reddit’s r/cryonics forum has exploded with discussion—some users praising Marshall’s determination, others warning of “post-mortem limbo” and the risk of postponing closure.
“Grief can drive us to magical thinking,” warns Dr. Sara Mitchell of UCLA Health. “Cryopreservation may delay unbearable pain, but it isn’t therapy—it’s a gamble with your emotional well-being.”
Marshall rejects the notion of escapism. In a heartfelt interview with CNN, he said, “Every night I think, if tomorrow brings a cure for him, I want to be ready.” His eyes glistened as he clutched a photograph of Ethan’s graduation—proof of a life brimming with promise.
Political figures have also weighed in. California State Senator Maria Gonzalez introduced a resolution urging transparency in private cryonics facilities, citing Marshall’s campaign as a catalyst for regulatory reforms. “Families deserve clear information before making such irreversible choices,” Gonzalez said during a televised hearing (view transcript).
Meanwhile, Dr. Ira Bloom—one of the nation’s leading cryonics practitioners—defends the process. Speaking to Variety, he noted, “We’ve preserved over 200 individuals. This isn’t fantasy—it’s an investment in the future of medicine.”
@IraBloomCryo on preservation: “Not a death sentence, but a pause button for tomorrow.” Variety— Variety (@Variety) June 10, 2025
Yet critics caution that Marshall’s public plea may overshadow urgent needs in mental-health care. Suicide rates among young adults have surged 15 percent in the past decade, according to a 2024 CDC report.
“Resources are finite,” argues Casey Liu of the nonprofit American Foundation for Suicide Prevention. “Every dollar for long-term hope must be balanced with immediate support for those still struggling.”
Some supporters have bridged both needs, donating part of their contributions to AFSP chapters. One donor wrote on Marshall’s GoFundMe: “We’ll stand by you in freezing time—and warming hearts today.” See donations.
As the campaign races toward its 60-day deadline, the Marshalls plan a private memorial service—and a public exhibition at Alcor Life Extension Foundation in Arizona, where Ethan’s remains would be stored at –196 °C. “If this is his resting place, let it be a beacon of hope,” James said.
Whatever the outcome, James Marshall has transformed his agony into a catalyst for global conversation—about life, love, loss, and the lengths we’ll go to defy finality. In the digital age, his son’s story transcends tragedy, challenging our fears of mortality and daring us to imagine a tomorrow where goodbyes aren’t forever.
