MAN FOR ALL SEASONS

Unfortunately, the National Enquirer got this one right. I hate to admit it, but I always check the tabloid headlines while waiting in the supermarket checkout line. A couple of weeks ago I saw a blurb on the cover of NE, complete with a hideous picture of Paul Newman, including a caption that he had just weeks to live. I filed it away, not thinking much about it. After all, dire predictions and titillating gossip sell thousands of copies. I remembered that picture this morning when Newman's passing tornadoed its way across the media spectrum. While the entertainment industry often revels in controversial publicity, this particular story prompts only sadness. Paul Newman touched far more people and genres than his acting ability could ever reach. He most definitely qualifies as a man for all seasons.

Movies have always been the great escape. Whatever our disposition, another viewing of a "Casablanca", "Bull Durham", "Sound of Music", or "Fast Times at Ridgemont High" can calm, lighten, or change most dark moods. There remain certain actors and actresses whose talent, demeanor, and script choice always place them in our individual comfort zones. Names like Bogart, Rosalind Russell, James Garner, Michelle Pfeiffer, Jimmy Stewart, and yes, Mr. Newman rise to the top of my appreciation list. But Newman ocupies a separate category. I tried recalling all of his work, but that was futile. From "Somebody Up There Likes Me" through "Road to Perdition", his remarkable career spanned over 50 feature films, nine Academy Award nominations (only one win), and a variety of themes, roles, and performances that any group of five actors could never approach. His versatility bordered on the astounding. He was boxing's Rocky Graziano, a chain gang's Cool Hand Luke Jackson, cocky pool shooter Fast Eddie Felson (twice, over 20 years apart), yellow journalism victim Michael Colin Gallagher, cynical private detective Lew Harper (twice), alcoholic attorney Frank Galvin, con artist supreme Henry Gondorff, witty outlaw Butch Cassidy, immoral ranch hand Hud Bannon, implacable half-breed John Russell, aging gadfly Sully Sullivan, hockey coach Reg Dunlop, and aging Irish gangster John Rooney. Of course that list excludes about 40 other roles worthy of mention. Yet acting brilliance covers only a snippet of his complete life.

Despite consistent placement in the footlights, Newman eluded the glitz and gossip so prevalent throughout his profession. I remember his appearance following his only son Scott's death from a drug overdose. It was brief, poignant, and sincere. But it led to another facet of his life that subsequently emerged, philanthropic activities. Whether it was a drug rehab center, summer camps for sick children (all proceeds from his Newman's Own food products), or bequests to his alma mater, he gave freely of both time and money. The final tally for his generosity numbers in the many millions of dollars.

He had a distinct passion for auto racing as a driver and owner, was happily married to actress Joanne Woodward for some 50 years (three daughters), served with honor during a naval stint in World War II, and was active politically. But enough biography. Paul Newman entertained me.

Although "The Hustler" was released in 1961, I didn't see it until much later. It was during my first year at college. I returned to campus the day after Christmas because of a job commitment. The temperature was 26 degrees below zero when I arrived, with snow knee deep, and icicles on the INSIDE of my dorm windows. I was one of three people in the building (I didn't know the other two). Aside from work, I had nothing to occupy my time except the cold. On my third night back, I walked downtown to catch a movie. "The Hustler" was playing in a double feature at one of the theaters and I decided to see it. I was so stunned by Newman's performance as pool shark Fast Eddie Felson that I watched it four times in two days. His portrayal of the brash, selfish, stick man astonished me. The gritty black and white production introduced me to George C. Scott, Piper Laurie, and the gifted Jackie Gleason as Minnesota Fats. It wasn't pretty, the ending left one hanging, and Felson was hardly a sympathetic character, yet Paul Newman owned that role, not to mention the movie. It was and is the best film he ever made (only my opinion).

Near the end of his career he made another gem, "Nobody's Fool". No awards, not much publicity, and mediocre reviews. Yet it was pure Newman -- independent and in charge as an aging, stubborn small town handyman. The magic remained. I still watch it from time to time. He was the best.

I stopped at Safeway this morning to pick up some milk, and once again turned toward the tabloid rack as I waited my turn. Not much happening this time -- space aliens will be arriving soon, Laura Bush wants a divorce, and Jen still loves Brad. Just another week in gossip central.

Oh, I almost forgot. I bought a jar of Newman's Own marinara sauce too. If I keep eating pasta, another kid might go to camp.

Thanks, Paul.

MM