Passages
We seem to have been on a run of celebrity deaths. Today had the news about the passing of Donald Moffat, a deft character actor who was especially good at arrogant, snobby types. He was the president in “Clear and Present Danger,” Ford Frick in “61*,” Lyndon Johnson in “The Right Stuff.” I especially liked his work in “Class Action,” where he went head to head against Gene Hackman in legal wrangling,
Just before that we lost Penny Marshall, a funny actress in “Laverne & Shirley,” an able director for “A League of Their Own,” the delightful “Big,” “Renaissance Man” (worth seeing for the “Henry V” monologue, and the Christmas perennial “The Preacher’s Wife.” And it was a grin when she popped up at the end of “Get Shorty” as the director of its concluding movie.
There was Ricky Jay, full of off-camera skills but a steady screen player who was a go-to for the formidable writer-directors David Mamet and Paul Thomas Anderson. There were people who guided my career, such as writer William Goldman, who not only gave us “The Princess Bride” but with John Gregory Dunne ranks among my favorite writers about the movie business. Bernardo Bertolucci and Nicolas Roeg were directors who made me see movies differently, and made me love such difficult works as Roeg’s “The Man Who Fell to Earth.” I know there are problems, serious problems, with “Last Tango in Paris” but it and Brando were overpowering back in the day.
And some folks I crossed paths with. I remember seeing Roy Clark at an autograph signing; he did not do interviews at the event but I was able to hang around and watch him connect with fans — especially the ones talking with him about guitars. I had a phone interview with Sondra Locke for “The Gauntlet,” though I don’t remember much of it all these years later, and with Stan Lee for a TV project, and he was cocky and funny in that way that Stan was known for. Don Webster and I had some good chats, including a long one about “Upbeat,” the landmark TV-music show he hosted.
And Nikki.
This is the one I keep coming back to. I did not know Nikki Delamotte well, but we would run into each other times, such as when Mo Rocca came to town for his Cooking Channel series. I admired her drive and her writing, and hoped at one time she would come to the Beacon Journal. While that did not happen, she offered up engaging ideas and stories for the Plain Dealer, and looked to be someone destined for a long, successful career.
Only she was murdered, shot by an uncle she had tried to reconnect with. She was 30. She did not have a chance to scale the heights reached by others I have mentioned. She was denied, so unfairly, and we were denied the pleasures that would have come from seeing more of her work and her success. Of all the goodbyes mentioned here, this is the one I hate the most.
Just before that we lost Penny Marshall, a funny actress in “Laverne & Shirley,” an able director for “A League of Their Own,” the delightful “Big,” “Renaissance Man” (worth seeing for the “Henry V” monologue, and the Christmas perennial “The Preacher’s Wife.” And it was a grin when she popped up at the end of “Get Shorty” as the director of its concluding movie.
There was Ricky Jay, full of off-camera skills but a steady screen player who was a go-to for the formidable writer-directors David Mamet and Paul Thomas Anderson. There were people who guided my career, such as writer William Goldman, who not only gave us “The Princess Bride” but with John Gregory Dunne ranks among my favorite writers about the movie business. Bernardo Bertolucci and Nicolas Roeg were directors who made me see movies differently, and made me love such difficult works as Roeg’s “The Man Who Fell to Earth.” I know there are problems, serious problems, with “Last Tango in Paris” but it and Brando were overpowering back in the day.
And some folks I crossed paths with. I remember seeing Roy Clark at an autograph signing; he did not do interviews at the event but I was able to hang around and watch him connect with fans — especially the ones talking with him about guitars. I had a phone interview with Sondra Locke for “The Gauntlet,” though I don’t remember much of it all these years later, and with Stan Lee for a TV project, and he was cocky and funny in that way that Stan was known for. Don Webster and I had some good chats, including a long one about “Upbeat,” the landmark TV-music show he hosted.
And Nikki.
This is the one I keep coming back to. I did not know Nikki Delamotte well, but we would run into each other times, such as when Mo Rocca came to town for his Cooking Channel series. I admired her drive and her writing, and hoped at one time she would come to the Beacon Journal. While that did not happen, she offered up engaging ideas and stories for the Plain Dealer, and looked to be someone destined for a long, successful career.
Only she was murdered, shot by an uncle she had tried to reconnect with. She was 30. She did not have a chance to scale the heights reached by others I have mentioned. She was denied, so unfairly, and we were denied the pleasures that would have come from seeing more of her work and her success. Of all the goodbyes mentioned here, this is the one I hate the most.
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