Hollywood Actors Archives - Page 52 of 128

James Coburn

“”Duffy’ was a particularly tiresome film about two English boys who plan to rob their millionaire father of his fortune. It was all cross and double-cross , set in one of the new Mediterranean fun-spots, Tangier, with every modish device available to it’s creators – pop-art, pop-music,pop-art photography, Susannah York and a new superstar James Coburn. Coburn played a con-man who helps the boys, a carefree, grinning, stubbornly heterosexual, lone Belmondoesque American and the film because it had no higher inspiration, kept him as firmly at the centre as anything that Theda Bara ever made. He was decidedly not tiresome” in David Shipman’s “The Great Movie Stars” (1972).

James Coburn was a terrific character actor in the early 1960’s who suddenly became a star with “Our Man Flint ” in 1966. Before that he had supported Yul Brynner in “The Magnificent Seven” in 1960, James Garner in “The Americanisation of Emily” and Steve McQueen and Garner again in “The Great Escape”. He won an Oscar for his performance in “Afflication”. He died in 2002 at the age of 74.

Veronica Horwell’s “Guardian” obituary:

One scene in John Sturges’s film The Magnificent Seven (1960) plugs directly into the power of its source, The Seven Samurai: the entrance of James Coburn, who has died aged 74, as Britt, “the best with gun and knife”.

He does little, unfolding himself like his own jackknife from post-cattle-drive repose to answer an unsought challenge to a duel, and shouldering his saddle to move on after winning effortlessly. He says less, just “You lost” and “Call it” – Coburn made the word laconic sound gabby. And yet he is the complete American samurai: “Acting,” he said decades later, “comes between the words – ego stops you telling the truth.”

Unsurprisingly, Coburn had seen the original Kurosawa film 15 times while studying acting with Stella Adler in New York. Surprisingly, he got the part he coveted, as the master swordsman, after meeting the already-cast Robert Vaughn in the street not long before shooting began. Coburn was persistent and available, unlike veteran character options.

He had been around the prairie a few times by then. He came from a farm in Laurel, Nebraska, although the family moved to California during the depression. After studying drama at Los Angeles City College, he alternated between advancing on television as far as the leads in such unconventional and shortlived series as Klondike, and Acapulco (both 1960), and supporting in films, debuting in the 1958 Budd Boetticher western, Ride Lonesome.

His faint resemblance to Lee Marvin, in naso-labial fold and stage quality bass-baritone voice, brought work as a lean heavy or young character man, notably in Hell Is For Heroes (1962), The Great Escape and Charade (both 1963), and A High Wind In Jamaica (1965).

In the back-up role as an army scout, in Major Dundee (1965) – the start of his buddy relationship with director Sam Peckinpah – Coburn was the strongest presence in the picture. Film lexicographer David Thomson thought that his humour and easy sexiness dated him, made him seem simian, especially with that toothed smile. But around 1965 he was very hot, starring in the Bond-like films Our Man Flint and In Like Flint.

Coburn was a bridge between cool, in the Sinatra swinger sense, and counter-culture cool in Theodore J Flicker’s prescient satire, The President’s Analyst (1968), which was produced by Coburn’s company and became a critical success, prefiguring the Saturday Night Live comedic sensibility.

He missed out on the neurosis that powered post-Jack Nicholson actors, and on the impassivity of Clint Eastwood-style faces – in fact, he did a western for Sergio Leone, A Fistful Of Dyamite (1972), playing an Irish explosives expert, and laughing zestfully all the way through. He was the right man for Peckinpah, for whom he did the most impressive work of his life as the sheriff in Pat Garrett And Billy The Kid (1973).

Then, on the eastern front, he exhibited that ferocious grin, as the Wehrmacht corporal drawling “I hate all officers” in Cross Of Iron (1977), which he also co-scripted. The following year, Peckinpah trusted him sufficiently to let him direct the second unit on the roadie movie, Convoy.

Coburn made the newer fellers look stiff and naff, but the post-1975 market was massive for naff. He was too late the hero. Most stars did not have to maintain the cash flow that he did, by playing the private detective in a television version of The Dain Curse – a ringer for its author Dashiell Hammett – or striding into the saloon bar in Schlitz Lite commercials.

The critic Pauline Kael once suggested that Coburn looked like the child of the liaison between Lieutenant Pinkerton and Madame Butterfly, and he took Zen Buddhism seriously, moving deep into meditation and oriental art. Japan acknowledged his honorary samurai qualities; he was so approved a masculine presence that he became an icon for its leading cigarette brand, and funded his old age by exporting rare cars there.

At 50, at the beginning of years of rheumatoid arthritic pain – which he overcame, although it crippled him – Coburn settled for occasional cameo roles in the John Huston mode – all big cigar, chuckle and thumbs, always giving the screen a lift, if a mite hammy indoors in a suit (he lopes off with bits of Robert Altman’s The Player, 1992, and the 1994 Mel Gibson vehicle, Maverick). Who he might have been, unfolded in all his angry power, was finally seen in Paul Schrader’s Affliction (1997), where the director wanted him as Nick Nolte’s abusive father because he was “large physically” – 6ft 3in – “and represented another generation of Hollywood manhood. You’re frightened for Nolte!”

“I finally got one right,” said Coburn, collecting his Oscar for best supporting actor in 1999, for the Affliction performance. But the expected offers didn’t come, except to play more nasty bastards. He wasn’t bitter; he was fit and still hoping, right up until he died of a heart attack listening to music at home with his second wife, Paula.

His first marriage, to Beverly Kelly, ended in a spectacularly expensive divorce; they had a son and a daughter.

· James Coburn, actor, born August 31 1928; died November 19 2002

The above “Guardian” obituary can also be accessed also online here.

Patrick Swayze starred in many excellent adventure thrillers such as “Point Break” and “Road House”. He also starred in two of the most popular romantic movies of all time, “Dirty Dancing” in 1987 and “Ghost” in 1990. Sadly he died in 2009 at the age of 57.

Peter Bradshaw’s “Guardian” obituary:

Patrick Swayze, who has died of pancreatic cancer aged 57, was a leading man with rugged, unpretty looks and a lean dancer’s physique, who enjoyed staggering success in Reagan-Bush-era America thanks to two classic movie roles. In Dirty Dancing (1987), he was Johnny Castle, a summer-camp dance teacher from the wrong side of the tracks who falls in love with one of his pupils, Frances “Baby” Houseman, a teenage girl from a posh, uptight family, whose world is rocked by Johnny’s steamy dance moves. At the end of the movie, Johnny strides into the dance hall to find that she has been forced to sit demurely with her parents at a table well away from the action. “Nobody puts Baby in a corner!” he declares, and whisks her centre-stage for some spectacular choreography. The image of the blonde princess emotionally liberated by the bad boy with the heart of gold was adored by movie audiences: it was irresistibly similar to that of Diana, Princess of Wales, dancing with John Travolta at the White House two years before.

Three years later, in Ghost (1990), Swayze was Sam Wheat, a yuppie banker deeply in love with his ceramic-artist fiancee Molly, played by Demi Moore. Sam is killed by a mugger in the movie’s sensational opening scene, but returns as a ghost to watch over the love of his life. It became America’s favourite date movie, with a much-loved, much-parodied scene in which a half-naked Sam embraces Molly from behind as she caresses an oozing brown pot upwards into shape, to the accompaniment of the Righteous Brothers singing Unchained Melody. This film, too, partook a little of the changing zeitgeist: Swayze’s gentle phantom yuppie showed an America interested in a more vulnerable, caring leading man as an antidote to the triumphalist 1980s.

After these movies, Swayze never quite progressed to the A-list, though he did well as the charismatic surfer-dude in Kathryn Bigelow’s 1991 action-thriller Point Break, opposite Keanu Reeves. A workmanlike career unfolded, without letting Swayze’s personality cohere into a clear star-identity. Nevertheless, he reportedly turned down an offer of $7m to appear in a Dirty Dancing sequel and, when criticised for his choice of film roles, said that he was “fed up with that Hollywood blockbuster mentality”.

Typecasting, and a battle with alcoholism, hampered any rise to the top. He was the decent American expatriate in Calcutta in Roland Joffé’s City of Joy (1992), and the wacky drag artist in Beeban Kidron’s To Wong Foo, Thanks for Everything! Julie Newmar (1995). As an ex-con, Jack Crews, in Black Dog (1998), he had to drive a truck full of illicit weapons across country.

It wasn’t until his scene-stealing turn in Richard Kelly’s cult-classic psychological nightmare Donnie Darko (2001), in which he played the sinister motivational speaker Jim Cunningham, that Swayze’s career found a new act. His looks were now those of a character actor, and a new generation of moviegoers responded to his muscular presence and direct address to the camera.

Swayze was born in Houston, Texas. His mother, Patsy, was a choreographer with the Houston Jazz and Ballet Company, and she drove Patrick hard as a boy towards a career in dance – and specifically in ballet, not an easy choice for a young Texan male. Swayze became a sports star in high school and got an athletics scholarship to Houston’s San Jacinto College.

After graduating, he moved to New York City, where he became the principal dancer at the Eliot Feld ballet company, but recurrent injuries compelled a strategic move into the theatre. On Broadway, he tore up the stage as Danny Zuko in Grease, which attracted the notice of Hollywood, so he moved to Los Angeles.

His big break came courtesy of Francis Ford Coppola, who allowed Swayze to develop his greaser persona in the teen drama The Outsiders (1983), the movie that also launched Tom Cruise and Rob Lowe. His breakthrough in Dirty Dancing played perfectly to Swayze’s strengths: dancing, masculinity, sweaty sensuality. It became one of the first films to find a vast audience in the booming new home-video market. After Ghost, People magazine voted him one of the “sexiest people alive”.

After that, things took a turn for the worse. His personal life was troubled: deeply affected by his father’s death from a heart attack and his sister’s suicide in 1994, Swayze repeatedly relapsed into alcoholism. He broke both legs in a horse-riding stunt in 1996 filming the HBO movie Letters from a Killer, which caused career stagnation and depression. There was further controversy when Swayze made an emergency landing in Arizona in 2000 in his twin-engine Cessna, and appeared to attempt to remove a stash of beer and wine from the plane.

After his comeback in Donnie Darko, Swayze presented a calmer, more relaxed face to the world. His likeable, easygoing personality struck a chord with London stage audiences when he played Nathan Detroit in the West End revival of Guys and Dolls in 2006. He also played opposite Kristin Scott Thomas and Rowan Atkinson in the British comedy Keeping Mum (2005).

In 2008, soon after he had filmed a pilot for a television show, The Beast, in which he was to star as an FBI agent, Swayze was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. He underwent chemotherapy and drug treatment while shooting the subsequent series, which was shown on US television earlier this year. His last film was Powder Blue (2009).

He is survived by his wife, the actor and dancer Lisa Niemi, his childhood sweetheart from Houston, whom he married in 1975. He described her as “the smartest chick I’d ever met” and cited her as the inspiration for the song She’s Like the Wind, which he co-wrote and which featured on the Dirty Dancing soundtrack.

• Patrick Wayne Swayze, dancer, actor and singer, born 18 August 1952; died 14 September 2009

The above “Guardian” obituary can also be accessed online here.

Candice Bergen was born in 1946 in Beverly Hills, California. She is the daughter of Frances Bergen and Edgar Bergen. She first came to fame as ‘Libby’ in “The Group” in 1966. Her movies include “The Sand Pebbles” opposite Steve McQueen, “Carnal Knowledge” opposite Jack Nicholson and “Starting Over” with Burt Reynolds. She also starred in the long running TV series “Murphy Brown” and “Boston Legal”.

Gary Brumburgh’s entry:

One cool, eternally classy lady, Candice Bergen was elegantly poised for trendy “ice princess” stardom when she first arrived on the screen, but she gradually reshaped that débutante image both on- and off-camera. A staunch, outspoken feminist with a decisive edge, she went on to take a sizable portion of these contradicting qualities to film and, most particularly, to late 1980s television. The daughter of famed ventriloquist Edgar Bergen and former actress and “Chesterfield Girl” Frances Bergen, the Beverly Hills born-and-bred Candice was surrounding by Hollywood glitter and glamor from day one. At the age of 6, she made her radio debut on her father’s show. Of extreme privilege, she attended Westlake School for Girls in Los Angeles, the Cathedral School in Washington, D.C., and then went abroad to the Montesano (finishing) School in Switzerland.

Although she began taking art history and creative drawing at the University of Pennsylvania, she did not graduate due to less-than-stellar grades. In between studies, she also worked as a Ford model in order to buy cameras for her new passion–photography. Her Grace Kelly-like glacial beauty deemed her an ideal candidate for Ivy League patrician roles, and Candice made an auspicious film debut while still a college student portraying the Vassar-styled lesbian member of Sidney Lumet‘s The Group (1966) in an ensemble that included other lovely up-and-comers including Joan Hackett, Jessica Walter and Joanna Pettet. Although that film was a box-office flop, Candice’s second film in 1966, The Sand Pebbles (1966), was a critical and commercial hit and was nominated for several Academy Awards, including Best Picture. Film offers started coming her way, both here and especially abroad (spurred on by her love for travel).

Other than her top-notch roles as the co-ed who comes between Jack Nicholson and Art Garfunkel in Carnal Knowledge (1971) and her prim American lady kidnapped by Moroccan sheik Sean Connery in The Wind and the Lion (1975), her performances were deemed a bit too aloof to really stand out among the crowd. During this time, she found a passionate second career as a photographer and photojournalist. A number of her works went on to appear in an assortment of magazines including Life, Playboy and Esquire. Most of Candice’s other late 1960s and 1970s films were either unmemorable or dismissed altogether, including the bizarre futuristic comedy The Day the Fish Came Out(1967); the forgotten mystery The Magus (1968); the epic-sized bomb The Adventurers(1970); the campus comedy Getting Straight (1970); the disturbingly violent Soldier Blue(1970); Lina Wertmüller‘s long-winded and notoriously long-titled Italian drama A Night Full of Rain (1978); and the soapy, inferior sequel to Love Story (1970), Oliver’s Story(1978).

However, things picked up toward the end of the decade when the seemingly humorless Candice took a swipe at comedy. She made history as the first female guest host of Saturday Night Live and then showed an equally amusing side of her in the dramedyStarting Over (1979) as Burt Reynolds tone-deaf ex-wife, enjoying a Best Supporting Actress Oscar nomination in the process. She and Jacqueline Bisset also worked well as a team in George Cukor‘s Rich and Famous (1981), in which her mother Frances Bergencould be glimpsed in a Malibu party scene. Candice also made her Broadway debut in 1985 replacing Sigourney Weaver in David Rabe‘s black comedy Hurlyburly (1998). In 1980, Candice married Louis Malle, the older (by 14 years) French director. They had one child, a daughter named Chloe, in 1985. In the late 1980s, Candice hit a new career plateau on comedy television as the spiky title role on Murphy Brown (1988), giving great gripe as the cynical and competitive anchor/reporter of a television magazine show.

With a superlative supporting cast around her, the CBS sitcom went the distance (ten seasons) and earned Candice a whopping five Emmy Awards and two Golden Globe Awards. Television movie roles also came her way as a result with colorful roles ranging from the evil Arthurian temptress “Morgan Le Fey” to an elite, high-classed madam — all many moons away from her initial white-gloved debutantes of the late 1960s. Malle’s illness and subsequent death from cancer in 1995 resulted in Candice maintaining a very low profile for quite some time. Since then, however, she has returned with a renewed vigor (or should I say vinegar) on television, with many of her characters enjoyable extensions of her “Murphy Brown” curmudgeon. After years of working exclusively in television, she returned to the big screen, playing a former beauty queen who attempts to foil Sandra Bullock in Miss Congeniality (2000), and Reese Witherspoon‘s pretentious would-be mother-in-law in Sweet Home Alabama (2002).

She has continued chomping at the comedy bit, appearing in The In-Laws (2003), The Women (2008), and Bride Wars (2009). In 2005, she joined the cast of Boston Legal(2004) playing a brash, no-nonsense lawyer while trading barbs with a much less seriousWilliam Shatner. She played this role for five seasons, receiving nominations for two Emmys, a Golden Globe Award and a Screen Actors Guild Award. Since 2000, she has been married to her second husband, Marshall Rose, who is a Manhattan real estate developer.

– IMDb Mini Biography By: Gary Brumburgh / gr-home@pacbell.ne

Robert Conrad has had a very successful career on television in such series as “The Wild Wild West” and “Baa Baa Black sheep”. His occasional films include “Pal;m Springs Weekend” in 1963.

TCM overview:

A ruggedly handsome leading man for over three decades on American television, Robert Conrad first gained audiences’ attention as detective Tom Lopaka on the light-hearted crime series “Hawaiian Eye” (ABC, 1959-1963). But his true breakout series came as the 19th-century secret agent James T. West in the tongue-in-cheek Western adventure “The Wild, Wild West” (CBS, 1965-69). The series helped to establish Conrad as an actor who enjoyed doing his own stunts – occasionally to his own physical detriment. In the 1970s, Conrad starred as real-life World War II flying ace Gregory “Pappy” Boyington on the action-comedy series “Baa Baa Black Sheep” (NBC, 1976-78), which he helped to rescue from oblivion by directly lobbying TV station managers after the network canceled the series. He broke out of the tough guy mold on several occasions, most notably in the epic miniseries “Centennial” (1979) and in the title role of the TV-movie “Will: The Autobiography of G. Gordon Liddy” (1981), but audiences preferred him in the masculine vein of his previous screen incarnations. He enjoyed greater small-screen success as the pitchman for Everyready batteries – where he virtually challenged the viewer to knock the battery off his shoulder – than in any series or TV-movie. Still remarkably fit in his fifth and sixth decades, he continued to star as hard-nosed types in TV-movies and short-lived television shows throughout the 1990s before largely retiring at the turn of the millennium, leaving behind a legacy of tough guy roles fans could never forget.

Born Conrad Robert Falk in Chicago, IL on March 1, 1935, Conrad was the son of publicist Jacqueline Hubbard, who noticed that even at an early age, her son showed an interest in performing. A star athlete in high school, he also worked as a singer in Chicago nightclubs, but was forced to turn to drearier work as a milk truck driver and dock worker after eloping with his first wife, Joan Kenlay, at the age of 17 in 1952. After convincing himself that he was just as capable of becoming a star as any of the leading men on television, he got his first entry into the business through another struggling actor, Nick Adams, who, beginning in 1957, helped him earn an agent through small roles. Conrad – who had changed his name by flipping his first and middle names – toiled for the next few years in largely unheralded bit parts before getting a contract with Warner Bros. There, he found more substantial parts in TV series before landing his first lead as half-Hawaiian detective Tom Lopaka on “Hawaiian Eye.” Despite the show’s popularity and his newfound star status, the job paid poorly and Conrad was forced to continue logging hours in unremarkable projects to make ends meet.

When “Eye” ended its network run in 1963, he attempted to strike out on his own as a film star, but only found work in low-budget projects like “Young Dillinger” (1965), with Nick Adams in the lead and Conrad as “Pretty Boy” Floyd. He also tried to re-launch his singing career with a tour of Australia and Mexico, but the launch of “The Wild, Wild West” in 1965 proved to be the shot in the arm that Conrad’s career needed. Created by Michael Garrison, who had originally optioned Ian Fleming’s “Casino Royale” as a feature film, the TV series was initially an action-packed but mostly serious Western adventure about two Secret Service agents who carried out clandestine missions for President Ulysses S. Grant. Conrad was James West, who provided the fists and the romance, while Emmy nominee Ross Martin was Artemus Gordon, a master of disguise. As the show grew in popularity, it took on a more tongue-in-cheek tone – perhaps to match the increasingly outrageous adventures of James Bond on the big screen – with Conrad facing threats from robots, earthquake machines, and arch-villains like the diminutive Dr. Loveless (Michael Dunn). Conrad could also be counted upon to engage in one or more knock-down, drag-out brawls with evildoers per episode, as well as any manner of stunts, all of which he performed himself with a team of stuntmen. This dedication to the show occasionally resulted in injury for Conrad, including a 12-foot fall from a balcony that resulted in a concussion.

While enjoying the popularity of “West,” Conrad also directed and wrote a Western, “The Bandits” (1967), which marked the film debut of actor Jan-Michael Vincent. Thought not a success, the film launched his career as the occasional director of his own television efforts. After “West” was cancelled in 1969, Conrad struggled to find a worthwhile follow-up on television. Jack Webb’s “The D.A.” (NBC, 1971-72) cast him in a documentary-style procedural about the trials of a deputy district attorney, while “The Adventures of Nick Carter” (1972) was a failed pilot that attempted to exploit his “Wild, Wild West” fan base by casting him as the famed hero of 19th century pulp detective fiction. Conrad later replaced Roy Scheider as the spymaster hero of “Assignment Vienna” (ABC, 1972-73), a drama shot on location in Europe. None of these efforts could attract a substantial audience, however, and Conrad’s attempts to generate a film career met with equal indifference. “Murph the Surf” (1975), based on the real-life exploits of jewel thief Jack Roland Murphy, enjoyed a small cult following, but for the most part, Conrad was finding more employment as pitchman for Everyready batteries. The brawny spots also made him the object of spoofs by Johnny Carson and other TV comics, which Conrad took in stride with considerable good humor.

Conrad finally struck paydirt in 1976 with “Baa Baa Black Sheep,” a World War II series about a group of misfit fliers battling the Japanese in the South Pacific. Buoyed by impressive footage of real aerial dogfights from the Department of Defense, the series found favor with male audiences. For his work, Conrad won a People’s Choice Award for Favorite Male Actor as well as received a Golden Globe nomination for his performance. The accolades were not enough to extend the show’s lifespan beyond its debut season, however and NBC pulled the plug on the show at the end of the 1976-77 season. Conrad was unwilling to let the series die without a fight so he attended a meeting of NBC affiliates and made direct appeals to station managers in an attempt to drum up support for the show. The grass roots effort paid off with a revival in 1977 under a new title, “Black Sheep Squadron,” which ran for another season before once again taking the plunge in 1978. Conrad would direct numerous episodes during the show’s network run, and cast his daughter, aspiring actress Nancy Conrad, in a semi-regular role as a military nurse.

During his run on “Black Sheep,” Conrad was also a regular presence on “Battle of the Network Stars” (ABC, 1976-1986), a regular series of TV specials which pitted the stars of each network’s programs against each other in often silly Olympic-style competitions. Conrad captained the NBC team six times between 1976 and 1980, and was the focus of an embarrassing incident that saw him pitching a public fit over his team’s loss to ABC in the 1976 special. He challenged ABC captain Gabe Kaplan to a face-off that would decide the winner of the event, but was defeated by the star of “Welcome Back, Kotter” (ABC, 1975-79) in a foot race. In 1979, Conrad returned to series work in another spy series, “A Man Called Sloane” (NBC, 1979-1980). It failed to find its niche with viewers, but Conrad rebounded with an impressive turn in the ambitious 26-hour miniseries “Centennial,” based on the novel by James Michener. Robert Blake and Charles Bronson were originally considered for the key role of the French Canadian Pasquinel, but Conrad eventually inherited the role, which was among the meatiest parts of his career. An opportunistic trapper and panhandler with two families – one white; one Native American – he pays for his gold lust with his life, but not before fathering two sons who become leaders of the Indian tribes whose competition for land with white settlers comprises much of the miniseries. The role allowed Conrad to show his depth as an actor – something that few of his previous efforts had done.

Conrad got a second chance at exploring a complicated character when he took on infamous Watergate conspirator G. Gordon Liddy in “Will: The Autobiography of G. Gordon Liddy” for television in 1982. An avowed admirer of Liddy, who served as technical advisor on the project, Conrad threw himself into the part, winning some hard-fought critical respect for his performance. For a brief period in the early 1980s, Conrad appeared to be pursuing opportunities in comedy – he hosted “Saturday Night Live” (NBC, 1975- ) and appeared in the dark political satire “Wrong is Right” (1982) for director Richard Brooks. But his action hero past was never far behind him, thanks to the success of the reunion TV-movies “The Wild Wild West Revisited” (1979) and “More Wild Wild West” (1980), so he settled once again into regular rotation as tough cops and detectives in unmemorable TV-movies.

Conrad returned to series work on three separate occasions during the 1980s and into the following decade. The first was “High Mountain Rangers” (CBS, 1988), with Conrad and his real-life sons Shane and Christian as members of an elite emergency rescue team. Daughter Joan also served as executive producer on the show, which lasted just three months. Remarkably, the show spawned a spin-off, “Jesse Hawkes” (CBS, 1989), which only aired six times before its cancellation. “High Sierra Search and Rescue” (Hallmark, 1995), with Conrad’s second wife, LaVelda Fann, among its cast, also enjoyed an equally brief run. The following year, Conrad made his first appearance in a major theatrical release in over a decade with a brief appearance in the Arnold Schwarzenegger comedy “Jingle All the Way” (1996). His dry sense of humor was put to excellent use when he attended the 1997 Golden Raspberry Awards – which celebrated the worst in film entertainment – to accept all three of the trophies awarded to the big-screen adaptation of “The Wild, Wild West” (1997). Conrad had been a vocal opponent of the film version, which cast Will Smith in the role of James West.

After the new millennium, Conrad slowly limited his on-screen appearances to narration jobs for various documentary series and contributing to the DVD releases of “Wild, Wild West.” He settled in California’s High Sierras with his family and gave the impression that he had retired from the entertainment business. He re-surfaced in 2003 after being involved in a car accident that left him and the passenger of the other car in serious condition. Conrad was later found to have a high blood alcohol level at the time of the accident, and was given six months of house arrest and a lengthy probation. Despite rumors that he had suffered permanent injuries as a result of the accident, Conrad went public in 2005 with a bid to run for president of the Screen Actors Guild. He had been an active member during the 1980s, when both he and Charlton Heston formed a conservative unit that helped to unseat the more liberal Edward Asner from the presidency. Conrad’s campaign ended in September of 2005 when he was defeated by Alan Rosenberg.

The above TCM overview can also be accessed online here.

“When Richard Widmark deserted villainy the screen lost one of its best villains. He was never so entertaining as a hero. As a hero, to be blunt, he is second-rate – oh, likeable, full of integrity, conscientious and all of that, but when he is tough and cocky it is a long way after Cagney. When he is jaded, he is way behind Bogart and he has hardly a hint of the bravura that made Errol Flynn so attractive to women. Nor – though he is probably a better actor – does he fill the screen quite so well as Burt or Kirk or Chuck. He is, in a word, self-effacing. His interviews made it clear that this is a man who loves his craft rather than the aura of being a big film star. He was not content to play psychopathic killers throughout his career” – David Shipman in “The Great Movie Stars – The International Years” (1972)

Richard Widmark was one superb actor. He played heroes but he was equally brilliant as villians such as Tommy Udo the giggling psychopath in “Kiss of Death” in 1948 and then in 1951 as the racist thug giving Sidney Poitier a hard time in “No Way Out”. His major movies include “Down To Sea In Ships”, “Yellow Sky”, “The Last Wagon”, “Judgement At Nuremberg” and “Madigan”. He died at the age of 93 in 2008.

Ronald Bergan’s obituary of Richard Widmark in “The Guardian”

You’re Nick Bianco, aren’t you? You’re a big man. I’m Tommy Udo. Imagine me on this cheap rap – big man like me, picked up just for shoving a guy’s ears off his head. Traffic ticket stuff.” These were the first words uttered on screen by Richard Widmark, who has died aged 93. It was one of the most striking debuts in Hollywood history.

The film was Henry Hathaway’s Kiss of Death (1947), and the nominal stars were Victor Mature and Brian Donlevy. But it was Widmark, in a relatively small part, whom everyone remembered. No matter how far he moved away from Tommy Udo in his long career, even when he played noble characters, that giggling psychopath was always just beneath the surface.

Widmark was born in the farming community of Sunrise, Minnesota, where his Swedish-born father ran the general store. His original ambition was to become a lawyer, so he enrolled at Lake Forest College in Chicago. It was there that he became involved in the dramatic society.

After graduating in 1936, he remained at the college as an instructor in speech and drama. In 1937, while he and a friend were touring Europe on bicycles, they shot a short 8mm documentary about Hitler Youth camps. He then moved to New York, where he worked on radio and landed a few Broadway roles, the best of which were directed by Elia Kazan. It was through Kazan’s influence that Widmark was auditioned by 20th Century Fox and put under contract, and immediately cast in Kiss of Death, for which he was nominated for an Oscar.

Critic James Agee described the character of Tommy Udo thus: “A rather frail fellow with maniacal eyes who uses a sinister kind of falsetto baby talk laced with tittering laughs. It is clear that murder is one of the kindest things he is capable of.” Certainly, Udo seems to delight in pushing an elderly wheelchair-bound woman down a flight of stairs. Of the spine-chilling snigger, Widmark explained that it derived from his nervousness at his first screen role, and “I’ve always had a goofy laugh.”

In the Hollywood tradition of stringent typecasting, Widmark reprised this sadistic character, with slight variations, in his next three movies, all released in 1948. In Street With No Name, he played a crooked fight promoter, wrapped up in a scarf and using inhalers, terrified of catching a cold, who wishes to run his gang “along scientific lines”. In one scene, later toned down to get past the censor, he beats up his wife (Barbara Lawrence), whom he suspects of having tipped off the police.

In Road House, he was a psychotic ex-serviceman pushed over the edge by sexual jealousy, and in the William Wellman western Yellow Sky he was the nastiest of the bank robbers opposing reformed outlaw Gregory Peck.

The last of his fanatical chortling villains was in Joseph Mankiewicz’s No Way Out (1950), in which he played a hospitalised racist hoodlum under the care of a black doctor (Sidney Poitier). So convincing was Widmark that a great deal of Poitier’s anger was genuine. In fact, the two actors became firm friends and appeared together again in two films, The Long Ships (1964) and The Bedford Incident (1965).

From the early 1950s, Widmark edged his way into more sympathetic roles, gradually entering the pantheon of Hollywood heroes. During the transitionary period, he gave one of his best performances in Jules Dassin’s Night and the City (1950), shot over 60 straight nights on location in London. As a small-time crook with ambitions to be a wrestling promoter, he is forced on the run by a racketeer before being killed and tossed into the Thames.

In the same year, Widmark crossed sides in Kazan’s Panic in the Streets, playing a doctor in the New Orleans public health service who hunts a gang of petty criminals carrying pneumonic plague. This time, he himself was upstaged by the villain (Jack Palance, in his screen debut).

More good guys followed in war movies – Halls of Montezuma (1950), The Frogmen (1951) and Destination Gobi (1953) – and westerns Red Skies of Montana (1952), Broken Lance and Garden of Evil (both (1954) in which Widmark turned the steely-eyed, gaunt, albino-like figure of his psychopath characters into a straightforward, blue-eyed, muscular blond. But his white rat persona surfaced from time to time, giggle and all. In Sam Fuller’s Pickup on South Street (1953), he played a seedy pickpocket who inadvertently “lifts” some top secret microfilm, which he is prepared to sell to the “commies”. Widmark brilliantly presents the moral ambiguity of the man, finally turning against the spies out of revenge, not patriotism.

He was the heavy, challenging Robert Taylor in The Law and Jack Wade (1958), and Mr Ratchett, the millionaire victim in Murder on the Orient Express (1974), so detestable that almost every passenger on the train has a motive to kill him.

On the whole, however, Widmark played mainly hardbitten heroes, especially in a number of westerns, such as John Ford’s leisurely Two Rode Together (1961), in which he partnered James Stewart; Alvarez Kelly (1966), as William Holden’s antagonist; and The Way West (1967), billed third after Kirk Douglas and Robert Mitchum. “I love westerns,” Widmark commented. “I love the outdoors, I love horses. That’s why I raise them.”

Apart from his film work, he made a fortune investing in land and owned a couple of ranches for himself. He married former actor and screenwriter Jean Hazelwood in 1942, and claimed never to have even flirted with another woman. “After I was married I thought, ‘well, that’s it’. I never thought beyond that. I happen to like my wife a lot.”

Politically, Widmark was a liberal, poles apart from John Wayne, who directed him in The Alamo (1960). Wayne wanted him to play Colonel William Travis, but Widmark insisted on playing Jim Bowie. “You’re not big enough,” Wayne told him. “I’ll be big enough,” Widmark replied. And he was.

The following year, he was the belligerent prosecutor in Judgment at Nuremberg, curiously less sympathetic than Maximilian Schell’s defence attorney. In 1968, he took the title role in Don Siegel’s Madigan as a tough New York detective. Although he is killed at the climax, the character was resurrected for six TV movies in the early 1970s. Widmark played Sergeant Dan Madigan as a cold loner, speaking in metallic tones.

From the 1980s, his light hair turned silver, he made fewer appearances, but whenever he gave an interview, the character of Tommy Udo always came up, even though he had created that monster almost half a century earlier.

Jean died in 1997, but he is survived by his second wife, Susan Blanchard, whom he married in 1999, and his daughter Anne from his first marriage.

· Richard Widmark, actor, born December 26 1914; died March 24 2008

“The Guardian” obituary can also be accessed on-line here.

Movie poster advertises the Italian release of ‘No Way Out,’ directed by Joseph Mankewicz, starring Sidney Poitier, Richard Widmark, and Linda Darnell (20th Century Fox), 1950. (Photo by John D Kisch/Separate Cinema Archive/Getty Images)

Coleen Gray was born in Nebraska in 1922. Se made some terrific movies in the 1940’s including “Nightmare Alley”, “Red River”, “Kiss of Death”and “The Killing. She died in 2015.

Ronald Bergan’s “Guardian” obituary:

The 2001 book Dark City Dames: The Wicked Women of Film Noir contained interviews with six female stars of the genre who were at their peak in the 1940s and 50s. One surprising inclusion was Coleen Gray, who has died aged 92. Surprising because she was seldom cast as a femme fatale in the classic film noirs in which she appeared.

In fact, Gray, with her pretty features, slightly pointed nose and wide eyes, was often the only ethical or innocent element in the dark, doom-laden crime dramas. In Kiss of Death (1947), she is the understanding girlfriend of an ex-con (Victor Mature), helping him to make a new life. In Nightmare Alley (1947), she is the steadfast wife and partner of Stan (Tyrone Power) in a carnival mind-reading act, whose big scene comes when she warns him not to “go against God”.

As the head nurse in the hospital in The Sleeping City (1950), she gains sympathy despite her involvement in illegal drugs and murder, and in Kansas City Confidential (1952), she is a corrupt cop’s law-student daughter, who brings romance into the life of a man (John Payne) unjustly accused of a robbery. Most famously, however, in Stanley Kubrick’s The Killing (1956), she’s the faithful girlfriend of a criminal (Sterling Hayden), who waited five years for him to be released from prison, and who gets drawn reluctantly into a heist.

Gray was born Doris Jensen in Staplehurst, Nebraska, of strict Lutheran Danish parents, Arthur and Anna, and moved with her family to a farm in Minnesota as a child. Later, she studied drama at Hamline University in Minnesota, graduating with a bachelor of arts degree, before moving to California. While appearing at a theatre in Los Angeles, she was discovered by a talent scout for 20th Century-Fox, who signed her to a seven-year deal at $150 a week in 1944. She then changed her name to Coleen Gray, sometimes billed as Colleen.

Gray’s first screen role, a short but significant one, was in Red River, shot in 1946, but only released by United Artists in 1948 after she had already become known for Kiss of Death and Nightmare Alley at Fox. In the lyrical Howard Hawks western, Gray imbues her one scene, in which John Wayne bids her farewell before heading west, with great force and tenderness. “I want to go with you,” she says. “I’m strong. I can stand anything you can.” “It’s too much for a woman,” he replies. “Too much for a woman? Put your arms around me, Tom. Hold me. Feel me in your arms. Do I feel weak, Tom? I don’t, do I?” Gray is memorably last seen isolated in long shot as the wagon train pulls out.

Gray was almost as effective in leading roles in several lesser westerns, mostly as a good but spunky girl keeping the hero on the right path, among them Mature in Fury at Furnace Creek (1948), Stephen McNally in Apache Drums (1951) and Hayden in Arrow in the Dust (1954). An exception was Tennessee’s Partner (1955) in which she’s a gold digger who tries to trap a cowboy (Ronald Reagan) into marriage for his money.

Among her rare comedies was Riding High (1950), Frank Capra’s remake of his own Broadway Bill (1934) in which she co-starred with Bing Crosby. Although neither matched the stars of the original (Myrna Loy and Warner Baxter), Crosby as a racehorse owner and Gray as the vivacious sister of his snobbish fiancee made a likeable team, and got to share a couple of lively musical numbers.

Parallel to her film career, Gray was a regular on television, particularly as a guest star on western series such as Maverick, Have Gun – Will Travel, Rawhide, The Virginian and Bonanza. Her work on television became more and more dominant through the 60s and 70s after the movies tailed off.

But before her virtual retirement from features, Gray took the title role in The Leech Woman (1960), a more nuanced proto-feminist film than the cheesy title suggests. Gray, as a neglected aging wife of a scientist, goes to darkest Africa where she discovers an elixir of youth, which entails killing men for their hormones. In the process, she gets her revenge on her despicable husband, who loved her only as long as she was young and beautiful. She continues to live off the lives of men in order to retain her beauty, before shrivelling and turning into dust. In transforming herself from a despairing frumpish alcoholic to a predatory young woman, Gray is superb.

Gray’s third husband, the biblical scholar Joseph “Fritz” Zeiser, died in 2012. She is survived by a daughter, Susan, from her first marriage, to the producer/directorRod Amateau, which ended in divorce; and a son, Bruce, from her second, to William Clymer Bidlack, an aviation executive, who died in 1978.

• Coleen Gray (Doris Jensen), actor, born 23 October 1922; died 3 August 2015

The above “Guardian” obituary can also be accessed online here

Jude Law was born in 1972 in London. His first major break in film was in “The Talented Mr Ripley” in 1999. Other movies since include “Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil”, “Cold Mountain” and “Sherlock Holmes”.

TCM overview:

Plagued with being called a heartthrob and a Golden Boy, British actor Jude Law managed to develop into a respected actor known for tackling challenging and often flawed characters. Though he struggled a bit early in his career to make a name for himself, Law finally burst onto the scene full force with his Oscar-nominated performance in “The Talented Mr. Ripley” (1999). From there, he was suddenly everywhere onscreen, playing a Russian sniper battling a Nazi sharpshooter during the Battle of Stalingrad in “Enemy at the Gates” (2001), a scarred assassin fond of photography in “Road to Perdition” (2002), and a Confederate soldier presumed dead and struggling to make in home in “Cold Mountain” (2003). Though he was often the subject of tabloid fodder due his trouble-plagued relationship with starlet Sienna Miller, Law oscillated between small indies like “I [Heart] Huckabees” (2004) and “Breaking & Entering” (2006) and large-scale studio movies like “The Aviator” (2004) and “Sherlock Holmes” (2009). .

Born on Dec. 29, 1972 in Lewisham, England, a borough in southwestern London, Law was the son of schoolteachers who encouraged their son to act at an early age. When he was 12 years old, Law began performing with the National Youth Music Theatre. A leading role in “Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat” led to his TV debut in a musical based on Beatrix Potter’s “The Tailor of Gloucester” (1990). That same year, Law dropped out of school for the British soap, “Families.” Fourteen months after his debut, Law left the series and returned to the stage, touring Italy as Freddie in “Pygmalion” and making a splash in London in “The Fastest Clock in the Universe.” In 1994, Law made an impression on theatergoers in both London and New York as a young man coping with his suffocating parents in “Les Parents Terrible,” particularly for an extended bathing scene in the second act which required complete nudity. Making enough of an impression, he was the only member of the English production invited to reprise his role on Broadway and was honored with a Tony Award nomination for his effort.

Law’s first film role – he played a passive car stealing street kid in “Shopping” (1994) – did little to propel him into the consciousness of American audiences. This set an unfortunate pattern for his early film career throughout much of the 1990s, during which he delivered strong turns in under-performing features. Often touted as the “next big thing,” Law would find himself quickly relegated to the “Who’s he?” list after a string of disappointing films. In 1997 alone, he offered three diverse portraits: the spoiled Lord Alfred Douglas in the well-intentioned biopic “Wilde,” an alcoholic paraplegic in “Gattaca,” and a bisexual hustler who ends up a murder victim in the based-on-fact “Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil.” In each case, the actor brought energy and charisma to the screen, yet each film failed to find much audience support. His losing streak continued with the barely released “Music From Another Room” (1998) with Jude starring as an artist who reconnects with a girl at whose he birth he assisted, and “The Wisdom of Crocodiles” (1998) as a vampire-like predator. While many believed that David Cronenberg’s sci-fi thriller “eXistenZ” (1999) might finally catapult Law onto the A-list, it proved too esoteric for mainstream audiences.

Law finally caught a break when Anthony Minghella tapped him to play the decadent playboy Dickie Greenleaf who becomes an object of envy to Matt Damon’s “The Talented Mr. Ripley.” Law was perfectly cast, shading the character with – as Janet Maslin wrote in her New York Times review – “the manic, teasing powers of manipulation that make him ardently courted by every man or woman he knows. During the first half of the film, Dickie is pure eros and adrenaline, a combination not many actors could handle with this much aplomb.” With talk of an Oscar nomination – which he later received – Law finally seemed truly on the verge of fulfilling the predictions of his becoming a movie star, though he would take his time getting there, cultivating pet projects before stepping up the pace of his soon-to- skyrocket film career. Prior to the release of “Ripley,” he returned to the London stage and earned strong notices in “‘Tis Pity She’s a Whore,” as well as making his directorial debut with a segment of the omnibus TV-movie “Tube Tales” (1999). Along with his wife Sadie Frost, whom he had met on the set of “Shopping,” and best mates Johnny Lee Miller, Ewan McGregor and Sean Pertwee, Law formed the production company Natural Nylon, with a slate of films in various stages of development.

As predicted, Hollywood came looking for him again in 2001 to take on the leading role in “Enemy at the Gates.” His enigmatic performance soon led to an inspired turn as a gigolo robot in Spielberg’s highly anticipated “A.I.” From there, Law would soon become a highly-coveted talent among Hollywood royalty. In 2002, he had a supporting role as a murderous photographer opposite Tom Hanks in “Road to Perdition,” before coming into his own as a leading man in 2003 when he took over a role initially for Tom Cruise opposite Nicole Kidman and Renee Zellweger in director Anthony Minghella’s “Cold Mountain” an adaptation of Charles Frazer’s best-selling Civil War melodrama. Playing Confederate Army deserter Inman, who flees his unit to return to his beloved Ada (Kidman) at Cold Mountain and faces incredible hardship on his long, harrowing journey back, Law was an utterly believable and compelling screen presence. The actor’s work was rewarded with a spate of critical recognition, including an Academy Award nomination as Best Actor. Of course, his was also subject to some of the prices of fame, which included intense media scrutiny of the gradual, messy breakup of his marriage to Frost.

Law’s next big-screen entry was the retro-yet-original action-adventure “Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow” (2004) opposite Gwyneth Paltrow and Angelina Jolie, in which he played the titular character, a daring aviator in an Art Deco New York, battling giant robots and searching for missing scientists. “Sky Captain” was the first in a succession of Law-headlined films that were released in late 2004: He next appeared in the ensemble of writer-director David O. Russell’s “existential comedy” “I [Heart] Huckabees” as Jason Schwartzman’s rival, an executive climbing the corporate ladder at retail superstore Huckabees, whose seemingly perfect life is explored by a pair of existential detectives. Law had nearly dropped out of the film in favor of a Christopher Nolan project until Russell reportedly ran into Nolan at a Hollywood party, yanked him into a headlock and demanded he release Law. To the surprise of none, the following day the actor called to discuss his “Huckabees” role with no mention of the incident. Law then took on the titular caddish rogue with a comeuppance coming (originally played by Michael Caine) in a remake of the 1960s British comedy, “Alfie.”

He next appeared in the Mike Nichols-directed drama “Closer” opposite Julia Roberts, Natalie Portman and Clive Owen as a pair of couples whose relationships become messily intertwined; the performance was Law’s best of the busy year. The actor also gave his all when he had a cameo as the suave but debauched Hollywood superstar Errol Flynn in Martin Scorsese’s Howard Hughes biopic “The Aviator.” He closed the year as the voice of the title role in the children’s fantasy “Lemony Snicket’s Unfortunate Series of Events.” At the 2005 Oscar ceremony, Law’s now notable ubiquitous visage was notoriously skewered by host Chris Rock, who wondered who Law was to get so many roles, prompting über-serious Sean Penn, who was filming “All the King’s Men” with the actor, to defend Law’s talent from the stage. Later that year more unwanted publicity ensued when Law released a statement apologizing to his then-fiancée Miller for having an affair with his children’s nanny three months into their seven-month engagement. Not surprisingly, the British and American tabloids had a field day. The couple attempted to reconcile, but ultimately called it quits.

In “All the King’s Men” (2006), Steven Zaillian’s botched rehash of Robert Penn Warren’s Pulitzer Prize-winning novel, Law joined a promising cast that included Penn, Kate Winslet, Anthony Hopkins, Patricia Clarkson and James Gandolfini. Unfortunately, talent could not make up for bad production all around, as the respected original film turned out to be a laughing stock of a remake that was plagued by bad Southern accents, weak acting and a poorly-conceived script. Law next starred in a more palpable film, “The Holiday” (2006), a romantic comedy centered on two women – one British (Kate Winslet) and the other American (Cameron Diaz) – whose torn love lives prompt them to cross the ocean and switches houses for the Christmas holiday. Meanwhile, Law collaborated again with director Anthony Minghella for “Breaking and Entering” (2006), playing a partner at a thriving architecture firm who embarks on a quest of self-discovery and ultimately redemption when he hunts for the burglar who twice broke into his office and stole all his company’s high-tech equipment.

In another remake, “Sleuth” (2007), a play by Anthony Shaffer turned into a 1972 film starring Michael Caine and Laurence Olivier, Law played Milo Tindle (Caine’s character in the original film version), a hairdresser being set up by Andrew Wyke, an older, but wealthy society man (Caine assuming the Olivier role) determined to exact revenge on Tindle for stealing his wife. Following a turn as a celebrity supermodel in Sally Potter’s ensemble media satire “Rage” (2009), Law joined Johnny Depp and Colin Farrell in portraying a transformed version of Heath Ledger’s character in “The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus” (2009), following the overdose death of the actor in 2008. Returning to blockbuster filmmaking, he portrayed Dr. Watson to Robert Downey, Jr.’s titular “Sherlock Holmes” (2009), a rousing action movie that was a global hit at the box office. Meanwhile, Law rekindled his relationship with Miller despite fathering a child after his brief dalliance with model Samantha Burke in 2009, though the couple again split two years later. After starring with Forest Whitaker in the sci-fi thriller “Repo Men” (2010), Law was a messianic conspiracy theorist in Steven Soderbergh’s thriller “Contagion” (2011), which focused on the death and destruction caused by a rapidly spreading virus.

Reprising his role as Dr. Watson, Law starred with Downey, Jr., in the commercially successfully, but critically derided sequel “Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows” (2011). Working with Martin Scorsese in the Oscar-nominated “Hugo” (2011), he was the deceased father of the titular Hugo Cabret (Asa Butterfield), a young boy living in the walls of Paris’ famed Gare Montparnasse railway station. After co-starring with Ben Foster, Rachel Weisz and Anthony Hopkins in the foreign-made drama “360” (2012), Law had a leading role as Alexei Karenina to Keira Knightley’s titular “Anna Karenina” (2012), Joe Wright’s Academy Award-nominated adaptation of Leo Tolstoy’s literary masterpiece. From there, he voiced Pitch Black the Boogeyman in the animated “Rise of the Guardians” (2012), and made some news for dropping out of filming the indie film “Jane Got a Gun” in 2013, the day after director Lynne Ramsay exited the film. Law had signed on to the project exclusively to work with Ramsay.

Scott Glenn was born in Pittsburgh in 1941. His films include “Nashville” in 1975, “Personal Best” in 1982, “The Right Stuff” and “Silence of the Lambs”.

TCM overview:

An intense and highly respected performer who excelled in a variety character roles, Scott Glenn struggled for nearly a decade before breaking through as the main antagonist in the box office hit, “Urban Cowboy” (1980). Prior to that, Glenn first became a known commodity with a standout turn in Robert Altman’s large ensemble classic “Nashville” (1975), but in the ensuing decade he catapulted to fame as an Olympic track coach in “Personal Best” (1982), astronaut Alan Shepard in “The Right Stuff” (1983), and one of four accused outlaws out for revenge in “Silverado” (1985). After playing a submarine commander who joins “The Hunt for Red October” (1990), he was the head of the FBI’s Behavioral Science Unit in the Oscar-winning thriller “The Silence of the Lambs” (1991). Glenn kept busy with appearance in a variety of low-profile features before turning up with character parts as a murderous Secret Service agent in “Absolute Power” (1997), a cop-turned-drug dealer who meets a grizzly fate in “Training Day” (2001), and the Director of the CIA in both “The Bourne Ultimatum” (2007) and “The Bourne Legacy” (2012). Though he never quite became a leading man, Glenn was a vibrant character actor who routinely surprised with the depth of his performances.

Born on Jan. 26, 1941, Glenn was raised in Pittsburgh, PA, by his father, Theodore, a business executive, and his mother, Elizabeth, a homemaker. As a child, Glenn routinely battled illness and was bedridden for a full year with scarlet fever. During that time, a legend that poet Lord Byron was in the family ancestry kept Glenn’s imagination active with dreams of becoming a poet himself, and he wrote as much as his illness would allow. His long recovery marked the beginning of an intense and lifelong passion for physical fitness and adventurous sports, though his literary leanings remained closest to his heart. After graduating high school in Pittsburgh, Glenn attended the College of William and Mary, where he earned a journalism degree. But his professional plans were put on hold because of a three-year stint in the marines, during which he served in Southeast Asia. Following his discharge from the military, Glenn worked as a crime reporter for a short time at the Kenosha Evening News in Kenosha, WI, before being offered a newspaper job in the Virgin Islands.

Though he accepted the job offer, Glenn decided to finish a play he had been writing before he began work. Since he was struggling with creating dialogue, a friend suggested that acting classes might help him with the problem. Two weeks in, Glenn realized that he was born to act and he continued studying with renowned actor William Hickey, before training with the legendary Lee Strasberg at the Actor’s Studio while working as a laborer and bouncer. Within a year, he was onstage in off-Broadway productions at La Mama and The Public theaters, and by 1969 he was receiving regular paychecks for a recurring role on the daytime soap “The Edge of Night” (CBS/ABC, 1956-1984). In 1970 he was cast in his first feature, playing opposite Barbara Hershey in “The Baby Maker,” which led to a decision to move to Los Angeles in pursuit of more film work. But for the next several years, Glenn struggled to find his footing, landing roles in low budget biker films like “Angels Hard as They Come” (1971) and horror flicks like “The Gargoyles” (1972) and “Hex” (1973).

Frustrated by the lack of quality work, Glenn finally began to break out when director Robert Altman cast him in his landmark film, “Nashville” (1975), in which he played a Vietnam war veteran who has arrived in the capital of country-western music to see popular singer Barbara Jean (Ronee Blakley) perform while seemingly harboring ulterior motives. With a large ensemble cast that included Lily Tomlin, Ned Beatty, Shelley Duvall, Jeff Goldblum, Barbara Harris and Keith Carradine, “Nashville” helped open doors for Glenn and he was next seen briefly in Francis Ford Coppola’s “Apocalypse Now” (1979), as an army colonel who was sent to exterminate the mad Colonel Walter Kurtz (Marlon Brando), only to be seduced into joining his private army. But after co-starring in the Western “She Came to the Valley” (1979), Glenn was so disillusioned by Hollywood that he moved to Ketchum, ID, where he worked as a bartender and mountain ranger for two years, though he did stay in fighting shape on stage in Seattle. Following this brief interlude, Glenn was lured back into showbiz by playing an ex-convict and arch-rival of John Travolta’s Bud Davis in the hit “Urban Cowboy” (1980).

With his career finally kicked into high gear in his early forties, Glenn began to enjoy steady and varied work on the big screen, playing Mariel Hemingway’s track coach in “Personal Best” (1982) and the first man in space, Alan Shepard, in “The Right Stuff” (1983), an epic docudrama about the birth of America’s space program. After starring opposite Sissy Spacek and Mel Gibson in the family drama, “The River” (1985), he joined Kevin Kline, Kevin Costner and Danny Glover for Lawrence Kasdan’s revisionist Western, “Silverado” (1985), where the four played a group of disparate outlaws going up against a crooked sheriff (Brian Dennehy). Glenn went on to play notorious mob hit man Verne Miller in “Gangland: The Verne Miller Story” (1987), before co-starring with Willem Dafoe and Gregory Hines in the action thriller “Off Limits” (1988). Meanwhile, his reputation continued to grow in the following decade with a turn as a submarine commander in the Tom Clancy-based thriller “The Hunt for Red October” (1990) and stoic F.B.I. agent Jack Crawford, who helps a young recruit (Jodie Foster) track down a serial killer (Ted Levine) with the help of Hannibal Lecter (Anthony Hopkins) in the Oscar-winning Best Picture, “The Silence of the Lambs” (1991).

Glenn continued his box office hot streak by playing the arsonist firefighter in “Backdraft” (1991), for which the middle-aged actor also contributed his own stunt work, and reunited with “Nashville” director Robert Altman for a memorable cameo opposite Lily Tomlin in “The Player” (1992). Following a series of forgettable thrillers – “Slaughter of the Innocents” (1993), “Extreme Justice” (1993) and “Night of the Running Man” (1995) – Glenn scored with his portrayal of an investigative reporter in “Courage Under Fire” (1996), a political drama about the investigation of a friendly fire incident starring Meg Ryan and Denzel Washington. He went on to play a Secret Service agent embroiled in scandal after taking part in the shooting death of the president’s (Gene Hackman) mistress in “Absolute Power” (1997), which starred Clint Eastwood as a master jewel thief who bears silent witness to the crime. Branching out into indie dramas, Glenn had a small role as a priest in Sofia Coppola’s film debut “The Virgin Suicides” (1999), and went on to further acclaim for his acting – and stunt work – in the Mt. Everest action thriller, “Vertical Limit” (2000), starring Bill Paxton and Chris O’Donnell.

Slipping comfortably into character parts, Glenn shined as a former cop-turned-drug dealer in “Training Day” (2001) and was an eccentric fisherman who owns a local Newfoundland newspaper in “The Shipping News” (2001), starring Kevin Spacey and Julianne Moore. He turned to television in the early part of the new century, starring as a cotton farmer in “A Painted House” (CBS, 2003) and an FBI agent brought in to organize the new government bureaucracy of “Homeland Security” (NBC, 2004). Glenn next played Admiral Jack McCain in “Faith of My Fathers” (A&E, 2005), and returned to indie filmmaking with a starring turn opposite Brendan Fraser in the crime thriller “Journey to the End of the Night” (2006). After supporting Hilary Swank in “Freedom Writers” (2007), he was the director of the CIA in “The Bourne Ultimatum” (2007) and portrayed U.S. Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld in Oliver Stone’s satirical biography, “W.” (2008). Sticking with real-life personages, Glenn portrayed businessman and thoroughbred horse owner Christopher Chenery in “Secretariat” (2010), before being seen as the Wise Man in the action-fantasy “Sucker Punch” (2011) and reprising his CIA director role for “The Bourne Legacy” (2012).

The above TCM overview can also be accessed online here.

Eva Gabor was born in 1919 in Budapest, Hungary. She was the younger sister of Zsa Zsa Gabor. She is best remembered for her role as ‘Lisa Douglas’ wife of Eddie Albert in the popular television series “Green Acres”. The series ran from 1965 until 1971. Her films include “Don’t Go Near the Water”, “My Man Godfrey” and “Gigi”. She died in 1995.

TCM overview:

The youngest of the Gabor sisters, Eva came first to the United States in the thirties, establishing a fluffy career in films and later on Broadway. Fluffy best delineates the difference between the two sisters. Despite her jump on Zsa Zsa, her publicity was based more on mere sophistication, continental understanding and sweetness; she lacked the tartness and bite of Zsa Zsa. In the 1950’s, when publicity aspired to its peak for cynicism and zaniness, Zsa Zsa was destined to be the public favorite, just as she was Mama Jolie’s favorite at home.

But Eva paved the way, especially in early television’s live dramatic series that came out of New York (“GE Theater”, “Philco Playhouse”, “Climax”, etc.) and later guesting enough in the 1960s to keep herself moderately known. As Zsa Zsa’s career outstripped itself in the 60s on “Hollywood Squares”, Eva received a plum series opportunity on the inane, but popular, “Green Acres”. As Lisa Douglas, Manhattan socialite turned farmer’s wife (“I gad allergic smalling hay”) she was the Desi/Ricky figure opposite Eddie Albert’s supposed Lucy, drifting through chicken coops and hogpens in her eternal maribou negligees, blank but childlike, trusting and sweet. Middle America tuned in for a surprising five years and 170 episodes.

Her charm remained intact guesting on such happening series as “The Love Boat” and “Fantasy Island” and showing up to chat amicably on Merv Griffin and Mike Douglas, the former of which was engaged to her in some press agent’s dream. She smiled glamorously from the covers of her wig catalog, bewigged in the usual lookalike Gabor style, causing more confusion about who’s-who than ever.

The above TCM overview can also be accessed online here.