7. CAT ON A HOT TIN ROOF (1958)
Newman's first on-screen brush with Tennessee Williams. (Four years later, he'd star in a hysterical version of Sweet Bird of Youth, and in 1987 he directed Joanne Woodward in a movie of The Glass Menagerie.) It suffers from the requirement that the play be bowdlerized for Hollywood: unless you know the original's big revelation about the exact nature of the relationship between Newman's Brick and his faithful football buddy Skip, you could run this movie backwards and forwards and still end up a little hazy on just what it is that's got the rich boy with the hot wife so pouty. But it gives Newman the chance to show off his Actors Studio chops and make with the heavy Broadway dramatics, especially in the famous showdown about "mendacity" with the doomed, cantankerous father figure, Big Daddy (Burl Ives, looking like a redneck cave troll). And seeing the Adonis-like Newman demonstrate his manly self-control by refusing the increasingly desperate advances of an in-her-prime Elizabeth Taylor must have inspired a compelling mixture of bewilderment and admiration in theaters from coast to coast.
6. THE STING (1973)
Shortly after Newman’s death, Larry King replayed a series of recent interviews with the flinty, taciturn actor, who came across as guarded and frankly embarrassed to be the center of attention under the glaring spotlights. The only times the star’s famous blue eyes really lit up with the kind of playful, mischievous glee familiar from so many of his film roles came when he spoke about a prank war between himself and his old running partner, Robert Redford. To say The Sting was only his second best on-screen pairing with Redford is hardly damning the seminal caper flick with faint praise, considering the American Film Institute named their best buddy flick (1969’s Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid) one of the best westerns of all time, and both their paired collaborations racked up a total of 12 Academy Awards between them (with The Sting earning Oscars for Best Picture as well as Best Director for lucky charm helmer George Roy Hill, who would later direct Newman in Slap Shot). When asked why he and Redford never did another film together despite their palpable onscreen chemistry, Newman explained they wanted to, but simply never found a suitable project...understandable, considering the standard they’d set for themselves with films of a quality Hollywood barely even bothers to attempt anymore. Screenwriter David S. Ward’s twisty Depression-era tale of a grifter dream team seeking revenge on the Scottish gangster who killed one of their own makes Ocean’s Eleven (either version) seem like a simple snatch-and-grab job, and Hill’s direction elevates the impressive game of his two leads by surrounding them with a memorable ragtime score, gorgeous production design and an all-star character actor Who’s Who including Robert Shaw, Charles Durning and Eileen Brennan as a formidable floozy whose lived-in chemistry with Newman gives Redford a run for his money.
5. COOL HAND LUKE (1967)
What must have seemed like a stunner back in 1967 – Paul Newman, one of the most beloved actors in America, playing what essentially boiled down to a counterculture icon – has lost a bit of its punch. Stuart Rosenberg’s direction isn’t the most sure-handed in the world, and the screenplay (by Donn Pearce, based on his own novel) lays on the Jesus metaphor a bit thick. But even surrounded by a terrific supporting cast, including George Kennedy and Strother Martin, it’s Newman’s iconic performance that makes the irrepressible, defiant prisoner Luke into perhaps the most famous anti-hero in ‘60s cinema and keeps the movie’s reputation from falling in with a lot of other forgotten rebel-without-a-cause films of the day. Newman’s strength, as in so many of his best-known performances, is that he completely owns the role, in all its contradictions and confusions, and doesn’t slow down for a second. When we’re asked to laugh with him, we can’t help but do so; when we’re asked for feel for his suffering, we do it without a thought. A lot of actors wouldn’t be able to reconcile the swings of the character from grinning smart-ass to inspiring martyr, but Newman throws himself into the part with such conviction that while we may not always believe the script, we always believe him.
Click Here for Part One & Part Three
Contributors: Phil Nugent, Andrew Osborne, Leonard Pierce
