FilmFemme

With the passing of 83 year old movie legend Paul Newman yesterday at his home in Westport, Connecticut, plenty will be said about his storied career, long and successful marriage, foray into charitable salad dressings and pasta sauces, irreverent and self-deprecating humor, piercing blue eyes and iconic roles like Butch Cassidy and Cool Hand Luke.  I’m not an obituary writer and won’t rehash all of that.

But when I heard the news, besides the tinge of grief and “Oh, no ” that always comes when someone that you have identified with or admired dies, I felt a sense of indignation.  Besides all of the greatness that will be exalted for the next week or so, with pointless interviews and maybe a marathon of his movies on TCM, Paul Newman, to me, always represented an unerring bastion of class.  Behind his mischievous and sexy grin, you never suspected anything sinister.  He was wholesome, devoted, honest, funny, charming and talented.  And I’m left wondering — who is taking his place?  Is there anyone left in Hollywood without sordid pasts to hide, paralyzing insecurities, a complete lack of restraint or impulse control?  Who sees their work as an actor as a job – a good job – but not a right, not a means to fame and fortune and a golden ticket to bypass shame or decency?  With these celebrated stars dying, to whom are they leaving their legacy?

The “giants” of today’s Hollywood are people that mean box-office.  Obnoxious starlets like Scarlett Johannsen and their male counterparts like Shia LeBeouf.  The slightly older stars like Leonardo DiCaprio, Russell Crowe, proclaimed class acts like Kate Winslet or Charlize Theron are still susceptible to being perturbed by their fame.  Surely it’s true that they are subjected to more scrutiny than Newman ever was, but I don’t know — isn’t there some way for them to maintain sophistication?  Mystery?  Charm?

Maybe the state of the movie business is even to blame.  With so much dreck, it’s probably difficult to be excited about your job all of the time.  To not just see it as an empty paycheck.  It makes me almost nauseous to think that Renee Zellweger has the same number of Oscars as Paul Newman (1).

This is making me depressed.  I’m going to watch a (good) movie.

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