Rod Steiger has passed away...

Harry here... This news really has affected me. I was 18 years old when I met Rod Steiger, I was a regular extra with dialogue on the set of BALLAD OF THE SAD CAFE. I was in the early days of college, barely a year out of high school. I was going to be a lawyer. I was set to spend years and years of dedicated study to law books, until I stumbled into a part in that Edward Albee play based upon that Carson McCullers novel.

I was impressed with the film having Keith Carradine and Vanessa Redgrave in it. They were both wonderful people. However, it was Rod Steiger that awed me. I'd seen Marlon Brando tell Rod that he coulda been a contender, he coulda been somebody. I'd seen Rod's AL CAPONE. His work in THE PAWNBROKER and IN THE HEAT OF THE NIGHT was legendary... truly the work of a genius. Which was acknowledged by Academy Award nominations, with a win for the latter. His Komarovsky in DOCTOR ZHIVAGO is the sort of fearless work that Steiger would do. A character loathsome to all, except himself... but he understands why others could see him that way. Brilliant nuanced work. Once when I was a small child I saw Steiger's performance in Ray Bradbury's THE ILLUSTRATED MAN and promptly went home and broke out a box of 'lick and stick' tattoos, barracaded myself in the bathroom, got naked and used them all. I'd seen 50 films if I'd seen one, by the time I made that movie during that brutally hot summer so long ago.

I'll never forget the first time I met him. We were all dressed in filthy overalls carrying paint bucket lunchpails along that Georgian dirt road back from the mill. It was to be a long shot of all us workers coming into town past the church. I was to be walking right alongside Rod. I was more nervous than I had ever been in my life... It was 104 degrees and around 70% humidity that day... It was absolutely horrible, that summer was pain. The director, Simon Callow, had instructed us to continue walking into town till we passed the camera, and specifically I was to stay beside Steiger the entire way. This thrilled me, because I knew that it meant I'd be in the shot definitely, because I was next to Steiger!

As soon as Rod and I were out of earshot from the director, Rod grabbed my shoulder, looked me dead in the eye and said, "Listen, if your fat ass gets between me and that camera, I'm gonna shove this can so far up that ass you'll be spitting out sardine tins for a week! Understand?!?!" I was shocked. I nodded nervously and he let go of my shoulder and unfixed that amazing stare of his from my eyes. As he turned away... I smiled... I knew at that moment, that he'd just given me a story, a story I could tell for the rest of my life. A confrontation, a moment that would never pass from my memory. On that set he was known as being quite the cantankerous fellow. He didn't agree with the ludicrous heat that pounded Willie Nelson's backlot those weeks. However, if that altercation between the two of us might seem a bit rough of a story upon Rod's character on a day when folks should praise him... I mean the story as a glimpse at how important the unblinking stare of the camera was for this man. That scene was a throwaway by most people's standards. No dialogue, just walking. But that scene... every scene was important to Rod Steiger.

Let me tell you another story. About 3 weeks later, I got to actually deliver a line to Steiger on camera. Rod was playing Reverend Willin and we were in that white steepled church. It was to be a wedding between Keith Carradine's Marvin Macy and Vanessa Redgrave's Miss Amelia. The entire town was gathered in the church, and I was the bellboy, standing at the door of the church having to ring the bell and yell out, "She's Coming, She's coming" when I noticed Miss Amelia was coming up the road to the church to let Rev. Willin know. Now, my character was supposed to be distracted by Steiger's preaching... getting all caught up in it, then suddenly notice that Miss Amelia was nearly there... Watching Rod Steiger deliver a sermon all day long is one of the greatest set moments I've ever had. He spilled so much passion into it. An absolutely fantastic sermon. I'd told everyone about it. After we finished the scene, Rod actually sought me out to tell me I'd done good. He didn't have to do that, but he did. He may have been cantankerous, but he was more than that too.

When I finally saw the finished film, his sermon was cut from the movie... That scene began with my line, toss to Steiger and then we all start singing, "What a friend we have in Jesus!"

These are the memories and experiences more than anything else that solidified my desire to have something, anything to do with film. The passion that Steiger had in his eyes, the emotion of being in a scene with him... of just watching him create moments on film... It made me love movies at an extra level that I hadn't experienced before. I was changed.

YEARS go by. I was in Los Angeles to see an early screening of END OF DAYS at Cameron's LIGHTSTORM screening room. Peter Hyams had sent a driver to pick me up at my hotel, and when I got in the limo (riding in these by yourself is one of the most useless feelings you can ever have) and I instantly struck up a conversation with the driver. He was an older fellow. I asked him how he got into the business. Turns out this fella had served in World War II with Rod Steiger. They'd been in the war from beginning to end together. When Rod first made it in film in the early 1950s, he called up his old war buddy and offered him the gig. That had been 40 years prior, and he was still driving Rod.

I was talking about Rod just a week or so ago. It was a conversation that began out of my mentioning how great he was in POOLHALL JUNKIES, which I'd seen at CineVegas. I had no idea when I was watching it, that it was one of his last films. Rod is one of those actors that simply is unforgettable. Every scene he had in MARS ATTACKS! he stole away from Nicholson.

I'm going to leave you with some of his scenes here... Let's start with ON THE WATERFRONT:

Charley Malloy
Look, kid, I -- how much you weigh, Slick?
When you weighed one hundred and sixty-eight
pounds you were beautiful. You coulda been
another Billy Conn, and that skunk we got you
for a manager, he brought you along too fast.

Terry Malloy
It wasn't him, Charley, it was you. Remember
that night in the Garden you came down to my
dressing room and you said, "Kid, this ain't
your night. We're going for the price on Wilson."
You remember that? "This ain't your night"!
My night! I coulda taken Wilson apart! So what
happens? He gets the title shot outdoors on the
ballpark and what do I get? A one-way ticket to
Palooka-ville! You was my brother, Charley, you
shoulda looked out for me a little bit. You shoulda
taken care of me just a little bit so I wouldn't have
to take them dives for the short-end money.

Charley Malloy
Oh I had some bets down for you. You saw
some money.

Terry Malloy
You don't understand. I coulda had class.
I coulda been a contender. I coulda been
somebody, instead of a bum, which is what
I am, let's face it. It was you, Charley

And I will leave you with two moments from DR ZHIVAGO:

Komarovski
There are two kinds of men and only two. And
that young man is one kind. He is high-minded.
He is pure. He's the kind of man the world
pretends to look up to, and in fact despises. He
is the kind of man who breeds unhappiness,
particularly in women. Do you understand?

Komarovski
I think you do. There's another kind. Not
high-minded, not pure, but alive. Now, that
your tastes at this time should incline towards
the juvenile is understandable; but for you to
marry that boy would be a disaster. Because
there's two kinds of women. There are two
kinds of women and you, as we well know, are
not the first kind. You, my dear, are a slut

Actually... I have to include this one too... This comes from THE HARDER THEY FALL... an absolutely fantastic film, watching Bogart and Steiger go at it... Oh man, brilliant casting... here ya go...

Nick Benko
The people, Eddie, the people! Don't tell me
about the people, Eddie. The people sit in front
of their little TVs with their bellies full of beer
and fall asleep. What do the people know,
Eddie? Don't tell me about the people, Eddie!