Thankfully, I missed last week's Academy Award Crapstravaganza, however, I did check out the "In Memorium" tribute online.
And as I watched the final few seconds, of Paul Newman in all his glory, I realized that his death has had an effect on me far greater than I could have ever imagined.
Now, lord knows, as far as politics goes, I couldn't be more opposed to his beliefs...He was a bleeding heart liberal of the best/worst order. He did great works for people in need, and that is wonderful, but aside from that, he just didn't do it for me.
But as an actor, well, as an actor he was the best. Like Eastwood and McQueen, he was the kind of actor every guy could look at and admire, without feeling like he had to check is Manly Man Card at the door. Unlike George Clooney, Matt Damon, or Sean Penn, when you watched Newman you didn't say, "He may be good, but he's annoying. I'd kick his ass at the drop of a hat if I had the chance."
In addition, unlike other actors whom I also admire, whenever I come across one of his films on TV (Butch Cassidy and Slapshot come to mind as they have been on recently) I feel sad. I miss him. Watching him in these films, and knowing he is no longer with us, makes me uneasy.
Maybe it's that a guy like Newman was always supposed to be around, that he always seemed strong an fit and full of life. Maybe I will feel the same way when Clint shuffles off his mortal coil.
Could be...But I'm not sure it really matters why.
I'm sure that these feelings too shall eventually pass, but for now, I watch those films with a mix of joy and sorrow.