Divagando: Paul Newman

“Eu imagino como será meu epitáfio: ‘aqui jaz Paul Newman,
que morreu fracassado porque seus olhos ficaram castanhos’”

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Paul Newman morreu ontem, aos 83 anos, de câncer de pulmão, ainda com os famosos olhos azuis e longe de ser um fracassado. A morte de um dos grandes atores da história não poderia passar em branco aqui no E DIGO MAIS. Mas como eu não sei escrever obituários, segue um trecho do belo texto de Aljean Harmetz:

“If Marlon Brando and James Dean defined the defiant American male as a sullen rebel, Paul Newman recreated him as a likable renegade, a strikingly handsome figure of animal high spirits and blue-eyed candor whose magnetism was almost impossible to resist, whether the character was Hud, Cool Hand Luke or Butch Cassidy. He acted in more than 65 movies over more than 50 years, drawing on a physical grace, unassuming intelligence and good humor that made it all seem effortless. Yet he was also an ambitious, intellectual actor and a passionate student of his craft, and he achieved what most of his peers find impossible: remaining a major star into a craggy, charismatic old age even as he redefined himself as more than Hollywood star.”

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Também gostei deste outro texto, escrito pela Manohla Dargis, que deve compartilhar a minha idéia de que o Paul Newman foi o ator mais bonito de todos os tempos (que eu me lembre, pelo menos):

“Mr. Newman, who died at his home in Westport, Conn. on Friday, never seemed to resent his good looks, as some men do; instead, he shrugged them off without letting them go. He learned to use that flawless face, so we could see the complexities underneath. And later, when age had extracted its price, he learned to use time too, showing us how beauty could be beaten down and nearly used up. Early in his career, Mr. Newman was often mistaken for Brando, so much so that he took to signing the other man’s name when asked for his autograph. Both studied at the Actors Studio and jumped to Hollywood, but there’s not much else to connect them beyond our demand for the Next Big Thing. The resemblance seems hard to grasp now, given their trajectories and how differently the two register onscreen: Brando sizzles, while Mr. Newman is as cool as dry ice. And unlike Brando, who at his death was often unkindly remembered for his baroque excesses on and off the screen, Mr. Newman seemed immune, bulletproof. (An exception: his support for Eugene McCarthy, which landed him on Nixon’s enemies list.) He had a talent for evasion. The movies are not kind to older actors and yet Mr. Newman walked away from this merciless business seemingly unscathed. Decency seems to have come easily to Mr. Newman himself, as evidenced by his philanthropic endeavors and political commitments, which never devolved into theater or self-promotion. It was easy to take his intelligence for granted as well as his talent, which surprised and survived even the occasional misstep. At the end of The Drowning Pool’ a woman wistfully tells Mr. Newman, I wish you’d stay a while. I know how she feels.”

A Manohla ainda fez uma narração para belas fotos do Paul Newman em um slideshow muito legal, que eu recomendo a todos. E como eu não tenho nem o conhecimento dela e nem a tecnologia do NYT, faço a minha homenagem via YouTube mesmo: