Other than temporarily fearing I was going blind, I really enjoyed watching Hud again

"Damn! Is that a jellyfish out there?"
I can laugh at this now -- well, maybe grin nervously -- but it was quite a shock for me Saturday night when, right in the middle of watching Hud on my big-screen TV, I began to see what resembled a huge black jellyfish traipsing down a back road in the Texas Panhandle. (As I gawked at the black-and-white image, I couldn't help thinking: "Wait! Did I put some '50s sci-fi movie into the DVD player by accident?") I rubbed my eyes, then ran to the restroom and splashed water into them -- but when I came back, the jellyfish was still there, hovering above Paul Newman and Brandon De Wilde in a small-town bar. In fact, the jellyfish didn't disappear entirely for about 15 minutes. And even after it departed, I would occasionally see black flecks -- shaped a bit like feathers -- floating around my line of vision, suggesting that some large vulture might be molting somewhere above Melvyn Douglas' head.

The feathers made a few unwelcome reappearances throughout Sunday -- even while I worked on a couple of assignment for Cowboys & Indians, The Premiere Magazine of the West -- greatly amping my already considerable paranoia about my eyesight. (I've always been afraid of losing my vision -- and not just because, hey, there isn't much of a market for blind film critics.) So as soon as I could land an appointment today with my optometrist -- the lovely and talented Sheryl Pickering, O.D. -- I high-tailed it over to her office, where my eyeballs underwent a thorough going over, complete with ultrasound scanning.

So far, it looks like the problem isn't anything as serious as macular degeneration -- thank you, Jesus! -- but rather "floaters" caused by some deterioration of vitreous fluid. (This, I was told, is "part of the natural aging process," and I can't begin to tell you how happy I was to hear that.) Mind you, this can be a serious condition if it turns out that I have some kind of tear in my retina. But Dr. Pickering didn't see any sign of that -- and, trust me, she and her assistants looked, quite diligently, all the while demonstrating amazing patience while dealing with a crybaby wuss of a patient.

 I'm set to go back for another check-up next month, by which time I may have grown accustomed to what I've been warned might be sporadic re-sightings of the floaters. (Nothing for the past few hours -- keeping my fingers crossed.) Right now, though, my dilated pupils have returned to normal size, I'm feeling much calmer -- or, to be more precise, considerably less hysterical -- and I'm ready to resume my normal workload tomorrow. (Even my cats appear to be in a better mood than they seemed this morning -- perhaps they'd heard me mumbling something to my son about my possible need for a seeing-eye dog.) Indeed, I'm functioning well enough to give my Art of Filmmaking students at Houston Community College their mid-term tonight after showing them a documentary about the making of Casablanca.

But if I suddenly see a huge black jellyfish hanging with Humphrey Bogart...

No kidding: Sundance almost didn't happen for Robert Redford

To celebrate the 40th anniversary of the premiere of Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid -- gosh, has it really been around that long? -- Sean P. Means of The Salt Lake City Tribune tracked down Robert Redford for a rare interview. According to Means, "the seemingly predestined path from The Sundance Kid to everything that now bears the Sundance name -- the ski resort, the institute, the film festival, the cable channel and the catalog store -- was a combination of luck, timing and happenstance." That's because, as Redford admits, he wasn't the first choice for the role that has become so closely associated with his life and work: "I was sent up to read for Butch Cassidy, because that was the more obvious role -- you know, more lively and more comic, more energetic and youthful, because I was about 13 years younger than Paul [Newman]. The original title of [William] Goldman's screenplay was The Sundance Kid and Butch Cassidy, because Paul was going to play the Sundance Kid." But a funny thing happened on the way to production...

Talking Paul Newman

The picture quality is pretty dodgy – it was recorded with a Coolpix digital camera by a dear friend and colleague seated in the front row – but I hope you enjoy at least listening to this Paul Newman tribute that Robert Denerstein and I presented on Sunday at the Starz Denver Film Festival. It’s just a couple of white guys sitting around talking, but we appreciated the opportunity to pay homage to the late, great actor, filmmaker and humanitarian. (I’m a little jealous of Denerstein, who has this ingratiating yet authoritative, NPR-ready speaking voice going for him. I, on the other hand, occasionally sound as though I’m still struggling to reach puberty.) There probably are better ways to have done this, but since I am the world’s most maladroit technophobe, even when armed with Windows Movie Maker, I wound up having to post it in seven segments on You Tube. But don’t let that scare you off – none of the segments is longer than 10 minutes, and most are appreciably shorter than that. Here's Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six and Part Seven. Enjoy.

Do you Hulu?

Hulu.com, an online video site launched less than a year ago, continues to attract an ever-increasing audience with its ever-expanding library of movies and TV shows. Indeed, according to one report, Hulu was the 6th most watched video site on the entire Internet in September, clocking in more than 142 million streams -- ahead of ESPN (128 million streams), CNN (118 million streams) and MTV Networks (97 million streams). How does Hulu do it? In part, by offering totally free streams of great films like Nobody's Fool, Robert Benton's exceptional 1994 comedy-drama starring the late, great Paul Newman.

Remembering Paul Newman

The folks at the Denver Film Festival have graciously invited me to take part in their Nov. 22-23 tribute to the late, great Paul Newman. So I'll be introducing special screenings of The Hustler (7 pm Nov. 22), Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid (3:45 pm Nov. 23) and Nobody's Fool (6:30 pm Nov. 23) -- and discussing Newman's extraordinary life and work with film critic Robert Denerstein (while, of course, taking questions from the audience) during a 2 pm Nov. 23 program titled "Paul Newman: The Last Movie Star." Be there, or be square.

Redford remembers Newman

"I first met Paul Newman in 1968, when George Roy Hill, the director of Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, introduced us in New York City. When the studio didn't want me for the film — it wanted somebody as well known as Paul — he stood up for me. I don't know how many people would have done that; they would have listened to their agents or the studio powers." More from Robert Redford here.

Paul Newman 2006

Here is an article I wrote for the December 2006 issue of Cowboys & Indians magazine, with input from, among other luminaries, Oscar-winner Robert Benton.

Remembering Paul Newman

Back somewhere in 1975, just before Paul Newman started filming The Drowning Pool in and around my hometown of New Orleans, he joined a few of his co-stars (including his wife, Joanne Woodward), for a small press reception in a secure meeting room at the city’s main airport. (Looking back, I have to wonder if this little get-together occurred just a few minutes after Newman and company first arrived in The Big Easy.) Newman seemed amiable – perhaps because, judging from his long pauses and languid movements, he’d prepared for the reception by having a beer or two, or five or six – and more than a little mischievous. He sat on a chair near where Woodward was seated, facing me while she chatted with another journalist. And every so often while we talked, he’d turn around, make sure she wasn’t looking at him, and… and… well, reach out to grab her ass.

Newman never quite made full contact, however. Each time his fingers were in seriously close proximity to her derrière, Woodward somehow sensed it. And each time, she would briefly turn around and shoot him a look that read “Don’t you dare!” He would smile sheepishly, place his hand back in his lap, and wait for her to turn back to her interviewer. And then he would again begin the process of reaching slowly, slowly, ever so slowly…

I know I should have found this behavior boorish, or unprofessional, or whatever. But, truth to tell, I found myself richly amused, and hard-pressed to suppress a hearty laugh. (I thought: What the hell, if I had to choose between talking to me and grabbing Joanne Woodward’s ass, I know what I’d pick.) The interview, such as it was, didn’t last very long: After about 15 minutes, someone came by, beer in hand, to lure Newman over to another corner of the room – not incidentally, far away from Woodward – for a brief Q&A with another journalist. I got to ask a few more questions during our next encounter 14 years later. But I kinda-sorta think he had a lot more fun during this first meeting. Hey, I know I did.

R.I.P.: Paul Newman (1925-2008)

If you’re going to introduce a younger movie buff to the unique charisma of the extraordinary Paul Newman – well, where do you begin? After all, you’re talking about a superstar who was active on screen over six decades. Here are some suggested movies to use while tutoring the uninitiated.

HUD (1963) – As an anti-heroic heel in Martin Ritt’s anti-Western, Newman is a smolderingly sexy hunk who defies his tradition-bound father (Melvyn Douglas) and disillusions his admiring nephew (Brandon de Wilde) while selfishly looking out for No. 1.

HARPER (1966) -- Newman's self-assured star power has seldom been showcased as effectively as it is in this slick private-eye drama based on Ross Macdonald's The Moving Target. As Lew Harper (the detective known as Lew Archer in Macdonald's great series of crime novels), Newman cracks wise and dodges bullets with all the cynical élan of a classic movie shamus. (A somewhat lesser sequel, 1976’s The Downing Pool, is not without its charms.)

COOL HAND LUKE (1967) -- This is the one that solidified Newman's status as a pop-culture icon of the 1960s. As a rebellious chain-gang prisoner who destroys himself while becoming a legend in the eyes of other inmates (including Dennis Hopper, Harry Dean Stanton and Oscar-winner George Kennedy), he combines anarchy, nobility and plain old cussedness in just the right measures. Little wonder that a frustrated warden (the late, great Strother Martin) complains: ''What we got here is failure to communicate!”

BUTCH CASSIDY AND THE SUNDANCE KID (1969) -- Newman and Robert Redford make the best pair of big-screen buddies since Clark Gable and Spencer Tracy in this tongue-in-cheeky Western written by William Goldman (who also scripted Harper) and directed by George Roy Hill (who would later guide Newman and Redford through the stylish con-artistry of The Sting).

SLAP SHOT (1977) – Rude and crude with apologies to no one, George Roy Hill’s profanely funny comedy about the misadventures of a third-rate, bush-league hockey team remains a much-quoted favorite of sports-talk radio hosts everywhere. Look beyond the surface hilarity, however, and you’ll better appreciate Newman’s risky and frisky performance as a middle-aged player-coach whose desperation mounts as he become increasingly aware that he won’t have much left when he hangs up his skates.

THE VERDICT (1982) -- Sidney Lumet directed, and David Mamet wrote, this brooding courtroom drama about a malpractice case that brings out the best in an unlikely hero. Newman's masterful portrayal of a boozy, burnt-out lawyer who gets a shot at redemption ranks with his finest work as an actor.

BLAZE (1989) -- Written and directed by Ron Shelton, who also gave us the equally robust Bull Durham, Blaze is a riotously funny and rigorously earthy romantic comedy about life, love and the pursuit of political mandates. Newman gives a big, boldly flamboyant performance as Earl K. Long, the three-term Louisiana governor who infamously romanced Blaze Starr (Lolita Davidovich), a spectacularly endowed Bourbon Street stripper known affectionately as ''Miss Spontaneous Combustion.''

NOBODY’S FOOL (1995) – Everyone has a favorite Paul Newman performance. But if you’re going to choose his very best performance, you’ll be hard-pressed to name one better than his Oscar-nominated turn in this quietly superb comedy-drama from writer-director Robert Benton (Places in the Heart). Based on the well-received novel by Richard Russo, Nobody's Fool is the story of Sully (Newman), an aimless and amiably impoverished construction worker with a banged-up knee, a who-cares attitude and a scolding landlady named Miss Beryl (Jessica Tandy). At age 60, however, Sully finds himself, much to his amazement, on the verge of finally becoming a responsible adult. Like just about everything else in his life, it just happens, without warning, and Sully has to deal with it.

Fading star

The ongoing media coverage -- some of it highly speculative, all of it unspeakably sad -- of Paul Newman's battle with cancer reminds me of a line from Edward Albee's play All Over. Early in the drama, as hordes of journalists maintain an attentive vigil off-stage, an intimate of a fatally ill notable remarks: "That’s the final test of fame, isn’t it, the degree of it: Which is newsworthy, the act of dying itself, or merely the death?" To put it another way: When you're admired, the press covers your death. But when you're beloved, the press covers your dying.

And so, alas, the death watch continues...

Does this mean that 'Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid' sequel is finally, totally a definite no-go?

Paul Newman says he's too old to act anymore. Damn.