"Your girl is lovely, Hubbell." —Katie Morosky, The Way We Were
The first Robert Redford movie I remember seeing was Out of Africa in 1985. I was 22. His earlier work was for adults, and I ... wasn't one. (Side note: That was my first Meryl Streep movie, too.)
He was already almost 50 at that point, but he was one of those men who aged well. I mean, really well.
Still, I'll be honest, he wasn't on my list.* This was the era of Tom Cruise and Rob Lowe, who were far more age-appropriate for my list.
*Friends, "The One with Frank Jr.," which included Ross's "freebie" list of five celebrities he's allowed to sleep with
Vic was a fan of Redford's movies. Three of his favorites were Three Days of the Condor, Jeremiah Johnson and The Natural. So it wasn't a hard sell to get him to go to a movie with Redford in it. We saw virtually every Robert Redford movie from Out of Africa to The Old Man & the Gun.
I loved Redford's body of work when he was in his 50s and 60s. I loved the fun he had in movies like Legal Eagles and Sneakers, I loved the beauty of the movies he directed, such as A River Runs Through It and The Horse Whisperer, and I loved how he could go from Spy Game to Charlotte's Web to Lions for Lambs to All Is Lost, a movie in which he is the only character and has virtually no dialogue.
But in 2004, a DVD of The Way We Were landed at my Blockbuster. I'd seen the episode of Sex and the City where Carrie and Mr. Big have their Katie and Hubbell moment, but I'd never seen the actual movie. Vic did not love The Way We Were. He didn't like movies where romantic couples bicker all the time. But he didn't argue when I selected The Way We Were for my movie choice that week. Because: Vic.
Of course, I loved the movie. It made me laugh and also cry (always a plus), and the ending, although sad, was perfect.
This was also the movie that landed Robert Redford on my laminated list. (I was not going to take a chance of seeing him at Central Perk with a laminated list that did not have his name on it, like Ross and Isabella Rossellini. Alas, I never did get to meet him in person, but he'll never be taken off my laminated list.)
To be a fan of Robert Redford is to have to decide what you love about him. Is he just a sex symbol? Just a movie star but not a real actor? A flawed or brilliant director? An activist? A patron of independent film?
But I don't have to decide. He was all of those things to me.
Sexy as hell, for sure. Even in his later years. He chose not to alter his appearance with plastic surgery and said he didn't think much about his looks. (He didn't judge others—he just said it wasn't for him. "I am what I am," he said.) He was philosophical about aging, saying things like "You carry your life with you" and "I never did look back." He just wanted to make the most of what he'd been given and keep moving forward. Like I said. Sexy as hell.
Both a movie star and a real actor. The kind of guy who made movies just for the money so that he could make films that meant something to him or donate to his causes (more on that below). Was he the same kind of character in most of his movies? Maybe. But so what? If you enjoy the film, what difference does it make? Unfortunately, his "beach-god looks," as The Washington Post called them in its obituary (that's a gift link you should be able to click on and read without a subscription) and his "same kind of character" vibe probably didn't do him any favors on the award circuit. Nominated for only one Academy Award in the acting category, as Johnny Hooker in The Sting, he lost out to Jack Lemmon in Save the Tiger. (No shade on Jack Lemmon—that guy should have one 100 Oscars.) But the Sundance Kid? Jeremiah Johnson? Bob Woodward? Henry Brubaker? Roy Hobbs? Tom Booker? General Irwin? Stephen Malley? Our Man? Not even ONE. MORE. NOMINATION. for acting? That's a real shame. Put someone else in any of those roles and see what you think. If Robert Redford made the role his, he's an actor.
A flawed and a brilliant director. He was praised more for his directing, although he directed only 10 films. His first outing gave him his only Oscar (not counting the honorary one he received in 2020): as the director of Ordinary People. He made a beautiful and poignant study of grief and turned a beloved sitcom star (Mary Tyler Moore) into one of the most hated characters in cinema. His work on Quiz Show received high critical praise and garnered him a second Oscar nomination for directing. Scarlett Johansson recently told Stephen Colbert that Redford's patient, warm, generous directing on The Horse Whisperer, where he would talk to her about her character's journey before each scene, taught her about the craft of acting and inspired her to become a director. Brad Pitt agreed. "Redford made us better," he said in an interview. His direction "elevated us," and "he was the real star of the film" (A River Runs Through It, which Redford directed and provided the narration for). But critics were mixed about The Legend of Bagger Vance, which took a hit for the trope of "the magical Negro," a black character who solves a white character's problems but gets no real character development of his own, and Lions for Lambs, which one critic said "never fully [drew] the audience into the discussion. I enjoyed all of his directorial outings, with my high bar of "I left the theater and felt my ticket was worth the price."
An activist. Redford was an ardent naturalist and environmentalist. He used his stunning good looks (how many ways can you say how handsome the man was?) and his movie star status to help finance the causes he was passionate about. But he didn't just talk the talk—he walked the walk. He served as a trustee for the Natural Resources Defense Council and advocated for the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge, and his Redford Center is dedicated to environmental filmmaking and storytelling. He was awarded the 2016 Presidential Medal of Freedom for his lifetime of art and activism that, as President Barack Obama said, continued "to shape our nation's cultural heritage, inspiring millions to laugh, cry, think, and change."
A patron of independent film. This is perhaps Redford's most enduring legacy. His Sundance Institute was a space for independent voices when Hollywood was churning out blockbuster after blockbuster. I mean, sure, Hollywood is still churning out blockbuster after blockbuster, some of which Redford appeared in, but Sundance gave independent filmmakers such as Ava DuVernay, Stephen Soderbergh, Paul Thomas Anderson and even Quentin Tarantino a much-needed boost. Sundance also provided a space for underrepresented communities, including indigenous artists. Redford promoted artistic diversity and was dedicated to real, sustained change. Although Sundance has become something more commercial than Redford intended, its legacy is rich.
But honestly, if the only thing you could say about Robert Redford was that he made fun, interesting, amusing, thought-provoking, beautiful movies, that would be enough. At least it was for me.
Like Roy Hobbs in The Natural, Redford just might have been "the best there ever was."
No comments:
Post a Comment