Lilo & Stitch’s ‘Big Hawaiian Dude’ David H.K. Bell Dies at 57
As if Hollywood needed more reminders that life is fleeting, David H. K. Bell decided to depart at the premiere of his own parties. His family announced that the beloved actor from the 2025 live-action Lilo & Stitch passed away at 57. If Tinseltown had a frequent-flyer program for untimely exits, he’d be at gold status by now.
Jalene Bell, his sibling turned eulogist, took to social media with both sympathy and shameless hashtagging. She praised David as the dad she never had and the uncle who could out-giggle a meme. Somewhere, a motivational speaker asks, “Is your loss this photogenic?”
David earned cult status as Big Hawaiian Dude, the guy whose shaved ice took a dramatic nosedive into the sand. He also popped up on Magnum P.I. and Hawaii Five-0 like a seasoned guest star who knew how to play nice. Meanwhile, palm trees across Oahu are reportedly filing bereavement leave.
His sister revealed David’s side hustle touring with his dog Brutus as Kona Brew ambassador—proof that even grief can be merchandised. He loved swapping voice-over tips and free coffee samples more than most people love breathing. If charity began at home, his dog’s Instagram probably sponsored gigs by now.
In a move that screams “hallmark moment,” he bought front-row Kapolei screening tickets for the whole clan just two weeks before his final bow. Family lore says he planned the night meticulously, unlike anyone else in his chaotic tribe. Surprise: “planning ahead” wasn’t a genetic trait.
On opening night, fans in head-to-toe L&S gear turned the theater lobby into a cosplay sweat lodge. T-shirts, onesies and masks flew off shelves faster than you can say “experiment 626.” Spoiler alert: popcorn sales skyrocketed while dignity took a rain check.
Jalene remembered their last hangout on a couch, swapping genealogy fodder over seltzers—because nothing says “farewell” like tracing your family’s most questionable decisions. He even called up ancestors who apparently were as restless as he was. Genealogy: where you find out your great-grandpa was a bigger hot mess.
Survivors include aunt Gerry and sisters Kehau Bell and Lara Leimana, now custodians of his legacy and his mysteriously vanishing surfboard wax. They’re reportedly sorting through photo albums and secondhand jokes. At least someone gets the good couch cushions.
Hollywood outlets are lining up tribute reels scored by sobbing ukuleles. The local Kapolei cinema might screen his shaved-ice fiasco on loop—because grief doubles as budget entertainment. Tickets sold separately, tears on the house.
His obituary reads like a coconut-flavored sitcom: short, sweet and sticky with irony. It’s not every day your last scene involves dropping a dessert, but then again, life loves a punchline. Cue the invisible laugh track.
From TV cameo to brief big-screen cameo, David’s career arc rivaled a modern art exhibit: confusing, fleeting, and oddly satisfying. His ‘Big Hawaiian Dude’ will forever live on in beach-side blooper reels and grieving fan forums. Rest easy knowing we’ll never forget that face-plant.
So here we are, applauding a life that blended shave-ice, genealogy, dog photo-ops and a side of slapstick. It’s the sort of combo platter only fate could overcook. Pour one out for the Big Hawaiian Dude, and let’s pretend we learned something today.
Sources: Celebrity Storm and E! Online, Family social media statement
Attribution: Creative Commons Licensed
