Paul Newman passed away today at the age of 83, and I have to admit I'm actually sad about it. I only recently started delving into Newman's films, having watched Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, Hud, The Verdict, The Sting, and Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid within the past year, and it's quite easy to fall in love with him, while watching his filmography. There's of course the obvious beauty, the piercing blue eyes, the sly grin and the slender, in-shape body, which was often on display, but there's also the tenderness he brought into the roles of his flawed male characters. He was part of the group of method actors who came out of the fifties, along with Marlon Brando, James Dean, and Montgomery Clift, and these actors explored roles that allowed them to express a fragility and an inner turmoil. Most leading men weren't given this opportunity, as they were seen as protagonists meant to further the plot and act as the hero, which is probably the reason why I don't have as much of a connection to film actors as I do to actresses. Because they weren't meant to be the heroes of their stories, actresses were given roles that served as the emotional core of their films; they were to react emotionally to the events that took place. The method actors were allowed to do the same in their roles, and its why I have such an adoration for them. Going back to Paul Newman, my favorite performance of his is probably Hud, with Cat on a Hot Tin Roof of The Verdict being second, though there are still a number of films of his I have to see, including The Hustler, Cool Hand Luke, Absence of Malice, and his Oscar role in The Color of Money. It's hard to believe it took until 1986 for the Academy to finally honor Newman with an Oscar, after several previous nominations. My heart goes out to his widow Joanne Woodward, a great actress in her own, and the rest of his family. He will surely be missed but his performances will live on forever.
Saturday, September 27, 2008
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment