Newman's own, and everyone's Newman

By Steven Zeitchik

Paul Newman was a great actor and perhaps as great a man in his private and philanthropic life, which gives obit writers plenty of juicy material but tends to make reading too many of them sound repetitive.

Several of the obits did distinguish themselves, however. Writing in THR, Gregg Kilday and Duane Byrge tell not just of his career and philanthropy but self-deprecating humor on same, noting his quip that his salad dressing often outearns his movies.

The National Post of Canada had a brilliant recollection of how he was mystified by the moviemaking process -- and why he liked car racing for the straightforwardness of the result. "As Newman confessed, he was still baffled by 'what films end up decent' and which don't.

And a appreciation in Sports illustrated, of all places, noted the futility of the effort of, well, trying to appreciate him. "Paul Newman lived long enough, and lived well enough, to confuse anybody who'd try for a final summation," Richard Hoffer wrote.

We watched parts of two of his movies over the weekend, "The Hustler" and "Nobody's Fool" just to remind ourselves of the scope and longevity of his career. We were reminded not just of the obvious virtues in his role but of the often contradictory ones: the brooding cool but likable accesibility, the beaten-down victim and the capable alpha male, the quicksilver charm and the uneasy crotchetiness.

He wasn't playing for and against type; there was no type, just the putty-like shaping of talent to fit script and drama. Scorsese issued a statement that noted "the emotional complexity Newman could conjure up and transmit through his acting in so many movies...his consummate sense of craft, so consummate that you didn't see any sense of effort up there on the screen." In that sense, at least, Newman can be summed up.