Critic’s Appreciation: Gene Hackman, a Tough Guy With Infinite Nuance and Boundless Range

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In Francis Ford Coppola’s 1974 film, The Conversation, there’s an unforgettable scene where Gene Hackman as the solitary spy Harry Caul goes to visit his girlfriend Amy, portrayed tenderly by Teri Garr. It’s on his birthday night and he arrives so late that she had almost given up on him.

She inquires about his age, followed by a playful, somewhat joking series of questions: where he resides, if he lives alone, what his occupation is. These queries, though seemingly casual, show that she is not well-acquainted with the man she’s been seeing for an undetermined period and appears to have feelings for him.

Or simply:

She casually asks about his age, then teasingly inquires about where he lives, if he lives alone, and what he does, revealing her lack of knowledge about this man she has feelings for, whom she’s been seeing for some time but the duration is unclear.

As a fan, I can’t help but resonate with Amy’s eagerness to connect with him, much like how I sense Harry’s discomfort and unease as she delicately probes for information. “I don’t feel like answering any more questions,” he replies, edging towards the apartment door while counting out cash for his rent. In semi-darkness, Hackman stands against the hallway light, when Amy voices, “Harry, I was overjoyed when you arrived tonight. The thought of you opening the door made my toes tap under the blankets. But I think I’ve waited long enough.

momentarily, Harry hesitates to fully shut the door, seeming to ponder his departure. Yet, instead of retreating back to bed with Amy, he opens it again and walks resolutely out into the hallway, leaving the door shut and ending their bond. The poignant sadness of this scene resonates so profoundly due to Hackman’s physical expressions. Although Harry doesn’t utter a word as he departs, the actor’s slightly bent head and the visible weight of sorrow on his shoulders convey that he cherishes Amy, but must keep others at arm’s length.

As a gamer reflecting on the passing of Gene Hackman at 95, I can’t help but marvel at his extraordinary acting abilities that transcended genre boundaries. Unfortunately, he was frequently typecast as a tough guy with a sharp mind, an oversimplification of his talent. However, it’s his iconic roles that will forever be etched in my memory.

Firstly, the unforgettable Popeye Doyle from William Friedkin’s gritty drug-bust thriller, “The French Connection.” His portrayal of the violent, racially insensitive New York narcotics detective was both gripping and haunting. Then there’s Sheriff “Little Bill” Daggett in Clint Eastwood’s revisionist Western, “Unforgiven.” As a sadistic, complex lawman, Hackman delivered a performance that was chilling yet captivating. Both roles earned him well-deserved Academy Awards.

However, despite his stern exterior and the hint of raw power in his towering 6’2″ frame, Hackman was far more complex than just a thinking man’s Charles Bronson or a rougher Steve McQueen. From the outset, as Hackman built a screen presence characterized by steely authority and irreverent wit, he simultaneously started to challenge this image with unconventional decisions.

There’s nothing quite like “Bonnie and Clyde,” directed by Arthur Penn, that catapulted him to fame. In this groundbreaking outlaw drama, he portrayed Buck Barrow, the easygoing ex-con older brother of gang leader Clyde Barrow. Known for his lighthearted humor, Buck often diffused tense situations with his witty jokes. When Buck met his untimely end, it served as a chilling reminder that time was running out for Bonnie and Clyde, steering their destructive path towards its tragic conclusion.

In another role as an ex-convict with a quick temper, Gene Hackman shared the screen with Al Pacino in Jerry Schatzberg’s movie, Scarecrow, where they were drifters traveling from California with a half-baked idea to start a car wash in Pittsburgh. Additionally, in Penn’s intricate neo-noir film, Night Moves, Hackman depicted a former professional football player turned private investigator in Los Angeles, who unwittingly gets involved in a family drama that spirals into increasing complexity and darkness.

Movies that blended genres, including “The French Connection” and “The Conversation,” were strongly associated with the troubled first half of the 1970s – a period marked by growing institutional distrust, political cynicism, culminating in the Watergate scandal. These films solidified Hackman’s reputation as a serious screen actor, yet he consistently resisted being pigeonholed into a specific character mold, even while shaping the image of a new breed of Hollywood antihero.

Or:

Movies that crossed genre boundaries, like “The French Connection” and “The Conversation,” were closely linked to the tumultuous early 1970s, characterized by rising institutional skepticism and political disillusionment, which reached its peak with Watergate. These films cemented Hackman’s status as a heavyweight screen actor, but he refused to be limited by any one character stereotype, even as he was crafting the persona of a new kind of Hollywood antihero.

It’s noteworthy that between Friedkin’s groundbreaking cop thriller and its sequel, Hackman briefly starred in Mel Brooks’ humorous horror parody, “Young Frankenstein”, playing a solitary blind hermit. This character invites the escaped monster into his simple abode for a bowl of soup and some conversation. Upon the creature’s departure, he calls out, “Hold on! Where are you going?” He had been preparing to make espresso for the monster, whom he had accidentally scalded with boiling soup and singed with a candle meant for his cigar.

Hackman approached his work with an undeniable sincerity, yet he maintained a sense of humor about himself. This is evident in his portrayal of the shady B-movie director with gambling issues, Harry Zimm, in Barry Sonnenfeld’s film “Get Shorty”; his delightfully malevolent (and unparalleled) interpretation of the arch-nemesis Lex Luthor in the Christopher Reeve “Superman” movies; or his role as a politician advocating for family values, Senator Keeley, in “The Birdcage”.

In the climax of their outrageous drag performance, they transformed Hackman into a character resembling a large meringue wig, heavy-duty makeup, and a glitzy wedding mother-of-the-bride gown. This metamorphosis allowed him to slip inconspicuously out of a bustling Miami LGBTQ+ bar surrounded by reporters. Amidst the festivities, the conservative senator, initially resistant, joined in the singing of “We Are Family.” As he voiced his displeasure to his daughter about not being asked to dance, he muttered, “I don’t think anyone wants to dance with me. I guess it’s this dress. I told him white wouldn’t be flattering.

It’s unlikely that any other director aside from Mike Nichols or any other writer except Elaine May could have persuaded Hackman to perform such a scene, which was strikingly out of character with his typical on-screen persona. Previously, Nichols had chosen Hackman to portray the kindly film director who reprimands Meryl Streep’s character, Suzanne Vale, when she’s causing trouble during filming in ‘Postcards From the Edge‘. However, he later demonstrates tender compassion and encouragement at a crucial moment when Suzanne is especially vulnerable.

roles outside of his usual repertoire were unexpected for Hackman, yet they demonstrated his unwillingness to be confined within a specific mold. Typically, film enthusiasts associate Hackman with grittier roles such as the FBI agent pursuing murderous Klansmen in “Mississippi Burning,” the political journalist in Roger Spottiswoode’s suspenseful “Under Fire,” the corrupt Old West mayor in Sam Raimi’s eccentric “The Quick and the Dead,” or the U.S. Navy submarine commander in Tony Scott’s “Crimson Tide.

Instead of choosing the conventional Hackman classics, I’d opt for less common picks if I were planning a double feature as a tribute to one of the greatest actors ever. One would be an entertaining excursion into the realm of big-budget Hollywood movies, filled with stars, while the other is a charming late-career surprise, released mere years before he retired from acting permanently.

Reminiscing about subpar films from our childhood can make us cherish them more. Film enthusiasts who grew up in the ’90s often look back fondly on _Hocus Pocus_, while kids of the ’80s hold a strange affection for John Huston’s version of _Annie_.

Growing up, I had an unshakable fascination with the movie “The Poseidon Adventure”. Even today, whenever I see it pop up on a streaming service, I just can’t resist giving it a watch. Sure, it’s a grandiose action spectacle, more of a manufactured disaster than a carefully crafted one. But for a boy raised in Catholic school, where priests were held in such high regard, the steamy chemistry between Karl Malden’s reverend and Stella Stevens’ worldly-wise ex-prostitute was a tantalizingly taboo attraction.

This man was deeply religious yet also a strong, charismatic leader among a band of survivalists, each loss affecting him profoundly, chipping away at his faith. Watching The Poseidon Adventure for the first time, as an Australian with parents who finally let me watch an “R-rated” movie, was a significant milestone in my cinema experiences, with Hackman playing the role of the captain steering that ship turned on its head.

Another movie is Wes Anderson’s emotional portrayal of a troubled family of geniuses, titled “The Royal Tenenbaums“. During a 10th anniversary screening at the 2011 New York Film Festival, Anderson and key cast members Anjelica Huston, Bill Murray, and Gwyneth Paltrow shared some friendly banter about Hackman’s temperament during filming.

Huston admitted feeling petrified during their initial scene where she had to slap him, and it left an impression on his cheek that made her think he might end up killing her. Murray jokingly commented: “I’d often hear tales like ‘Gene tried to kill me today.’ And I would respond, ‘Kill you? You’re under union protection. He can’t.’

Regardless of the vibe on set, Hackman’s portrayal in this movie is undeniably one of his finest – it’s brilliant, bewildered, and overflowing with affection for his fictional family. As an actor, I found myself effortlessly channeling Anderson’s unique perspective, a comedic nuance that feels like a blend of J.D. Salinger’s subtle wit and the quirky humor found in a classic New Yorker cartoon.

In the climactic scenes, it’s Royal Hackman who steps up as a true hero, rescuing his grandchildren from a perilous car crash, with their father under the influence of mescaline behind the wheel. The vivid picture of this far-from-perfect patriarch clinging to the side of a garbage truck, cheering alongside his son and grandsons, will forever be etched in my mind whenever I recall Hackman.

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2025-02-28 04:25