A few words about Gene Hackman
The 95-year-old actor was found dead in his home on Thursday along with his wife and dog.
An island full of actors have said during their career that they’re stepping away or taking a break from their career. They announce it online, informing the masses that it’s time to stop or do something else. Gene Hackman didn’t have to do any of that. He just left the business all together and remarkably stayed gone.
Hackman and his wife Betsy Arakawa, along with their dog, were found dead in their New Mexico home on Thursday. No foul play was suspected and there’s an investigation ongoing, but the reality is that one of the best actors ever is gone. After those seemingly common paparazzi shots of Hackman out and about getting a cup of coffee or simply moving around, the great one decided this rock wasn’t fit enough.
While many will tear apart clues to find answers about their demise, I’ll celebrate the actor who gave us Jimmy Doyle, Little Bill, and a Royal Tenenbaum. Hackman was the crooked suit in No Way out and Absolute Power, the man who saved a woman on a train in Narrow Margin. He coached Keanu Reeves back to football greatness in the underrated The Replacements. He was the almighty Lex Luthor before Jesse Eisenberg and Nicholas Hoult could walk.
Hackman’s last movie was the dreadful Ray Romano 2004 comedy, Welcome to Mooseport. Making it must have been so bad that upon finishing his scenes, it was “welcome to retirement” for the actor who first appeared uncredited as a cop in a 1961 film called Mad Dog Coll.
He was as versatile as the day is long, something fans forgot about before they saw him dance in drag in The Birdcage. Hackman was the Blind Man in Young Frankenstein, drawing infinite laughs by trying to light Peter Boyle’s thumb on fire. The greatest secret actors ever tried to pull was convincing their audience that drama didn’t include a direct street connection to comedy.
Man, he was good in the dramas, though. That’s where he made his gold. Many forget him and Dustin Hoffman going mano a mano in Runaway Jury a short while before retiring. He was a Postcard from the Edge who saw Mississippi Burning and alerted The Firm. Hackman was in over 100 movies or television shows. He never had to turn around and head back to TV after his last role on the small screen in 1968.
A traditionalist who favored the biggest screen and stage, Hackman was the guy who spun David Mamet’s dialogue better than most in Heist as a thief trying to overcome multiple conspiracies. Watching him, Danny DeVito, Delroy Lindo, Sam Rockwell, and Ricky Jay slice it up in that film is still a signature experience.
No other role made more of a dent than Norman Dale. Believe me when I tell you that I was never a big basketball fan. The game is admirable and has plenty of stars and pulled me in with the Michael Jordan era, but it’s not something I ever got close enough to in order to feel an impact. I felt all of that watching Hoosiers, and it was due to Hackman.
Playing a coach in Indiana desperately trying to pull a winning team together for a small, hopeful town, the actor didn’t overdo the role or try to out-Pacino a speech during the climax. With a tightly wound paper in his hand and a look in his eye that meant it, Hackman delivered the role of a lifetime for any basketball aficionado out there. Try and keep a dry eye when you hear Dale tell the team right at the end, “I love you guys.”
I would be remiss to not mention his incredible work in Tony Scott’s Enemy of the State as Brill, the man who kept Will Smith alive. Don’t forget about Harry Zim in the great Get Shorty, which I just viewed. You’ll feel a combination of contempt and sorrow for Harry as he tries to drink a brunch beverage through a straw with a neck brace on.
Funny, serious, sad, or action pushed, Hackman could do it. He may be gone, but his work remains for us to sift through, discover, and celebrate. It’s a tragedy that he, his wife of nearly 34 years (Betsy was 63 years old), and dog are gone. The reasons will come to light, and they’ll be boring and sad all at once.
Gene Hackman’s career wasn’t sad at all. It was stellar with an extra layer of class for telling the world he was leaving the game and actually staying gone. Some have enough of the golden pie and wish to leave some for others. Some just have enough and decide to see what else life has in store for them. Rest in peace, Gene. You did it all and then some, and knew when to get out.