Paul Newman (1925 - 2008)

I'm not one for sentimentality over such things as the death of an actor, but I feel somewhat compelled to comment on the passing of Paul Newman, who died on Friday at the age of 83.

When my mum left my dad we went to live with my maternal grandparents and stayed there for about five years. I've never been great at sleeping and I would resist bedtime with every bone in my small body when I was a child; my family's answer to this was to strike a bargain with me, I was allowed to stay up late at the weekends, as late as I wanted, providing I was a good girl during the week and went to bed without any tantrums. Yes I was a spoilt brat, but I knew when I had it good and I entered into the agreement with alacrity, because I loved the weekends. I especially loved Friday and Saturday nights because even at that young age I was a budding film buff and on Friday nights the BBC showed old black and white horror films and on Saturday nights they ran old classics.

One of the highlights of my week (and I had many, mine was a very happy, contented childhood) was to have my bath on a Friday or Saturday night, get into my PJ's and then go downstairs to the living room where my grandparents sat up late. While my grandfather snored in his chair I would cuddle up to my grandmother, also dressed in her night clothes and faintly smelling of freesia scented talcum powder and settle down to watch whatever the BBC had to offer us. Every weekend we would have our quality time together, sharing a love of old films and a bag of marshmallows or a bar of dark chocolate. While we watched my grandmother would tell me about the actors, little bits of information and gossip she'd gathered and treasured over the years, waiting for the appreciative audience that she would one day find in her little granddaughter. I loved it, it was bliss, life just didn't get any better than Friday and Saturday nights as far as I was concerned.

One of the first films that I remember watching with my grandmother was Cat on a Hot Tin Roof.

I think I can only have been 6 or 7 but I remember it vividly, it simply blew me away. It was one of the first films I bought for myself when I started earning my own money and I still love it and watch it regularly. I've come to appreciate it more over the years; as a child I didn't understand the adult themes of mendacity and sexual tension, all I understood and loved was the glamour of it. I was held spellbound, not by the cleverly crafted script or plot line (I'd come to love those much later), but by the smouldering, elegant beauty of Elizabeth Taylor and Paul Newman's sheer brooding maleness. I had never seen a man as physically perfect, even to my young, innocent eyes as he was. Thinking about it, I still haven't. When Elizabeth Taylor gazes at him with hungry, longing I'm right there with her, because for all his weaknesses and fallibility (and possible latent homosexuality - toned down in the film, much to the disgust of Tennessee Williams apparently) he is still the perfect man. That film, and Paul Newman's image in it, made a huge impression on me that has stayed with me through the years, and for that reason I have a fondness by association for Elizabeth Taylor and, to a much greater extent, Paul Newman.

Greater, simply because I have never since watched a film with Paul Newman in that I didn't think him awesome in. He has remained consistently good and compelling to watch, frankly he should be forever revered as an actor just for his portrayal in Cool Hand Luke alone, never mind his other classics such as The Hustler, Butch Cassidy & The Sundance Kid, Hud and The Sting.

He was a fine actor, no doubt about it, but there was so much more to him.

As great as his dramatic achievements were, what he SHOULD be acknowledged and accredited for is his philanthropy. This man had a heart. A lot of people know that he had his own brand of food products ... but how many of them know that ALL proceeds after taxes were donated to charity, resulting in literally hundreds of millions of dollars being raised? He had a hands-on approach to getting involved with his various causes that has rarely been seen in others, who it could be cynically suggested only see charity functions as another photo-opportunity. When asked about his generosity he is quoted as saying 'I wanted to acknowledge luck; the chance and benevolence of it in my life, and the brutality of it in the lives of others, who might not be allowed the good fortune of a lifetime to correct it.'

Paul Newman seemed to conduct his life and his business with a quiet dignity that did him great credit and endeared him to the general public. Those icy blue eyes held a wealth of warmth and his goodness shone through. Women wanted to love him, men wanted to to be him (and probably go for a pint with him), he was that kind of guy, universally loved for being a beautiful person, inside and out.

Rest in peace, Mr Newman.