February
28, 2025
In
Memoriam
We
were told it would be a big star, and it was. When I first saw Gene Hackman,
adorned in jeans, a white t-shirt, and an open button-down long-sleeve shirt,
he was flanked by two equally casually-dressed adult men, one of either side.
It created the dual picture of a man slightly wary of the public, but open
enough to walk around campus in full view of potentially screaming invasive
fans. He was in town filming Loose
Cannons, a buddy picture with Dan
Akroyd about a tough-as-nails police officer working with a partner with multiple
personalities. It would not be one of his most successful films. As a working
actor, he made a number of questionable films, but his presence elevated even
the poorest of them, single-handedly elevating them from atrocious to strangely
watchable. (See The Replacements for
an example of this.) It’s an impressive feat that only a handful of actors can
achieve.
Later,
at a school-wide assembly, he would answer numerous questions from students on
such topics as his views on acting to his role in Superman, and he regaled us
with stories about his decision to become an actor and his college roommates,
Robert Duvall and Dustin Hoffman. He had the room in the palm of his hand, yet
his demeanor remained informal, that of a regular guy who just happened to be a
member of an extraordinary profession. At the end of the period, he walked off
to thunderous applause from a thoroughly star-struck audience.
If
that had been it, it would have been understandable. It was after all his
fiftieth birthday. And yet, after lunch, there he was, sitting in my acting
class and offering aspiring actors tips on their monologues and two-person
scenes. One of these interactions in particular has stayed with me all these
years. My classmate Maggie had been working on a monologue in which a woman
describes her experience at an unsuccessful job interview. The monologue is
clever, and every time I’d seen it performed, it had been greeted with laughter
and performed as if the speaker were doing stand-up. Mr. Hackman had a
different view. After Maggie completed her performance, Mr. Hackman asked her a
series of questions, the most intriguing of which was If this happened to you, would you think it was funny? Maggie had
to admit she wouldn’t. Only someone without a care in the world would joke
about not getting a job, and Maggie’s character was not such a character. Maggie
was then asked to perform the monologue again, this time reflecting the fact
that the woman’s disappointment in both her actions and their aftermath. The
change was astonishing. The message was clear. Be real.
Herb
Cain, the legendary columnist for the San Francisco Chronicle, would later
write that while it had been Gene Hackman’s birthday, it was really the students
that had received the gift. When news of Mr. Hackman’s death broke, it was this
event that I remembered first. I imagine that is true for all of us fortunate
enough to be in the classroom that day. He will indeed be missed.
A Good Place to
Start:
The French
Connection (1971)
The Conversation (1974)
Hoosiers (1986)
Unforgiven (1992)
Crimson Tide (1994)
Get Shorty (1995)
Gene Hackman
January
30, 1930 - February 26, 2025
The Conversation (1974)
Hoosiers (1986)
Unforgiven (1992)
Crimson Tide (1994)
Get Shorty (1995)
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