“Well, I had a wonderful career.”
- Robert Duvall
Things seem to come in bunches, don't they? I've lost three important people in my life recently, all in their nineties. They were the the kind of people who, without their presence in my life, I would not be me. Now, there's the passing of another nonagenarian important to me, Robert Duvall.
Of course, unlike the other three, I did not know Robert Duvall, although I did share a ride on a tiny plane with him once. I loved him because he was so magnificent at what he did, acting. If you love movies, I'll bet you loved him too. Can you name a film that wasn't elevated by his presence?
His name belongs right there among the greatest male actors America has ever produced, Brando, Nicholson, Pacino, Newman, Hoffman, De Niro…Duvall. Think of the iconic roles he has inhabited:
Tom Hagen: The Godfather and The Godfather II
Lt. Col. Bill Kilgore: Apocalypse Now
Max Sledge: Tender Mercies
Bull Meechum: The Great Santini
Sonny Dewey: The Apostle
Gus McCrae: Lonesome Dove
Major Frank Burns: MASH (The Movie)
Frank Hackett: Network
Felix Bush: Get Low
Boo Radley: To Kill a Mockingbird
Lucky Ned Pepper: True Grit (Original)
And on and on. He won a Best Actor Oscar for his role in Tender Mercies. He received six other Oscar nominations for various roles. He came from an era when actors had dignity, did their jobs and kept their mouths shut regarding things they were ignorant about (with one or two exceptions). I appreciated that.
My friend Cliff, one of those three important people who passed recently, I've spoken of before. Cliff was a lifelong musician who came of age musically in the “Beatnik” era. He had all kinds of expressions indicative of that culture. With Cliff, you were always, “Man.” “Hey, man, how's it goin?'” Everything was “Cool” with Cliff, “That's cool, man.” Money of any kind was always “Bread" as in, “I wasn't makin' much bread, man," or “I didn't have to give much bread for it, man.”
When someone died, and I mean anyone, no matter how distant or close, in Cliff's vernacular, they “gave up.” I remember him telling me a story once and he said with total sincerity, “It was about the time my mother gave up, man.”
So, in memory of Cliff, I will say, man, let us mourn February 15, 2026, the day that Robert Duvall gave up.