Ahhhhh son of a bitch. Paul Newman is dead. Of cancer no less.
One of the last remaining vestiges of Hollywood's Golden Era. He hailed from a time when the blockbuster had, thankfully, yet to be perfected, films were about educating and enlightening the audience and gritty character roles were more valuable then running around with a gun in your hand and your shirt torn off.
What always appealed to me about Newman is that despite his pretty boy looks he wasn't afraid to get his hands dirty to take on a role. He wasn't the world's greatest actor, but he was a very honest one. He was very much a working, blue collar type of performer.
I hope that in the weeks ahead that some of the specialty channels get their think on and feature some of his better films, (I've been wanting to watch Butch Cassisdy and the Sundance Kid again for awhile now).
So long Paul. You will be missed.
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