A tribute to Paul

While many will celebrate Paul Newman, who died of cancer yesterday at the age of 83, for his acting, I have long admired him for his humanitarian achievements and the fact that he and Joanne Woodward, an equally talented actor, remained married for more than 50 years in an industry where most marriages are lucky to last a year. In a Playboy interview he said of his fidelity "I have steak at home; why go out for hamburger." Yes, he was one of the most passionate students of his craft we have ever seen, but he was also a man who opened Hole in the Wall Gang summer camps for children with cancer and other serious illnesses, and used the sale of his salad dressing, popcorn, spaghetti sauce and other food items to donate more than $200 million to charity.

"If Marlon Brando and James Dean defined the defiant American male as a sullen rebel, Paul Newman recreated him as a likable renegade, a strikingly handsome figure of animal high spirits and blue-eyed candor whose magnetism was almost impossible to resist, whether the character was Hud, Cool Hand Luke or Butch Cassidy," Aljean Harmetz wrote in the New York Times.

Writing in the San Francisco Chronicle, Steven Winn said: "In a performance career that spanned more than half a century, Mr. Newman played rogues and rascals that audiences couldn't resist, probed more deeply into roles he played in his 50s and went on to fashion a gallery of aging and emotionally complex characters in his 60s and 70s. Few American actors have made such a deep and sustained imprint."

Robert Redford, who of course starred with Newman in two immensely popular films, "The Sting" and "Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid," said "There is a point where feelings go beyond words. I have lost a real friend. My life -- and this country -- is better for his being in it."

Stephen Hunter of the Washington Post wrote: "Nobody played shrewd better than Paul Newman. He became great playing shrewd."

I didn't care for Newman that much in the first two films in which I saw him, "The Silver Chalice" and "Somebody Up There Likes Me." I don't think anyone, even Newman, liked the former, but the latter is the film many think is the one in which he emerged as a real actor. To me, he chewed the scenery, he seemed to be trying too hard. The part of boxer Rocky Graziano was originally supposed to go to James Dean and I think I would have preferred Dean's more introspective approach to the part. Unfortunately, Dean died before the "Somebody" screenplay was even completed.

It was in Newman's next film, 1961's "The Hustler," in which he stood toe-to-toe with the likes of George C. Scott, Jackie Gleason and Piper Laurie, that convinced me of his talents. The way he slowly revealed the many layers of Fast Eddie Felson was simply mesmerizing.

It's interesting to watch such other great actors who came along after Newman, specifically Robert DeNiro and Al Pacino, struggle to find worthwhile roles later in their careers. Compare that with Newman who, with his last on-screen performance in "Road to Perdition," walked away from the movies his own man on his own terms.

There is a scene in Martin Ritt's "Hud" in which Newman, playing the villainous title character who's so charismatic you have to embrace him, is attempting to seduce the family housekeeper played Patricia Neal. He lies on her bed, buries his nose in a daisy and leers at her "What else are you good at?"

No one ever had to ask Paul Newman that question.