I got a letter earlier today from a friend about the passing of veteran character actor Dabbs Greer, and I’ve received several in the last day and a half about beloved comic character actor Tom Poston’s death as well. Right now is the first moment I’ve had to sit down to write about either of them. And as I’ve observed in the past, I don’t like writing obituaries, so it wasn’t the thing I wanted to sit down to do. But there was a word in that e-mail today that struck me. He said it would be wrong to let Dabbs go “unsung.”
And it struck me that I shouldn’t dwell on the unpleasant task of writing an obituary. Instead, I should view it as an opportunity each time to sing someone’s praises. There’s something infinitely more palatable about that idea, something that is totally disconnected from the almost perfunctory business of running obituaries. Anyone can run a piece where you list a few of someone’s accomplishments, a bit of biographical info, and a sincere-but-standard closing line about friends and family. And that certainly seems to be fine. Acceptable.
But the reason we should mention these people here and take a moment to reflect on what they contributed, on all the moments they are part of that we share as collective movie fans, is to celebrate the mark they made on pop culture, on us as viewers, or even in some cases, on us as friends. It ain’t cool that these artists have passed, of course. But ain’t it cool that they contributed in the first place, and that those contributions still exist? Actors may pass away, but their images linger, as do their effect.
Dabbs Greer made a huge impression on me as a kid when I watched LITTLE HOUSE ON THE PRAIRIE. He was Reverend Alden on that series, and he made a strong impression on me in the role. Tonight, I'm going to throw on a ROCKFORD FILES episode that he did, because I love that show, and it always seemed to make good use of the guest stars. I'm betting he plays an old friend of Rocky's. I'd lay money on it, sight unseen.
Director Frank Darabont worked with Greer on THE GREEN MILE, where he played the older version of Tom Hanks. It may well be the best performance in a film that is pretty rich with great performances. Here’s what Frank had to say about Greer today:
"We must not let Dabbs Greer's passing go unmentioned and unnoticed. He is one of the true heroes of the things we love, and shame on us if we allow him to be unsung.
I'd been a fan of his since the age of five when I first saw "IT, THE TERROR FROM BEYOND SPACE" on local L.A. television. He was the standout in the cast, and the only one I remembered decades later as an adult. The man has over 250 credits on IMDB, including two episodes each of THE TWILIGHT ZONE and OUTER LIMITS. He was a stalwart character actor who never stopped working, a ubiquitous face and presence who always delighted the audience even if they didn't know his name. I was truly privileged to work with him on THE GREEN MILE, in which he played the older Tom Hanks character to perfection. He was a gracious gentleman and a total pro. The things I remember most: his elegance, his gentleness, and the absolute joy that acting still gave him even after all the years he'd been at it. I shall miss him very much.
You must run an acknowledgement of this wonderful man."
Likewise, we should mention that Tom Poston was beloved in the industry and by audiences. He had a pretty durable, steady career, winning an Emmy in the ‘50s for his work on THE STEVE ALLEN SHOW, and then nominated for three more Emmys in the ‘80s for his work on NEWHART. He was a regular on MORK & MINDY, and much of the best stuff on the show came from how well he played with Robin Williams, who was obviously out of his motherlovin’ mind while that show was on the air. A lesser actor wouldn’t have survived that.
Poston was one of those guys who never broke a sweat. He did far more TV than film, but if you’re going to try to see one movie of his, try to find COLD TURKEY, a Norman Lear comedy from 1971. It’s a pretty sharp and angry comedy about a tobacco company that stages a publicity stunt. They offer to pay a small town $25,000,000 if they will stop smoking for a full month. And then, the eyes of the world upon them, the tobacco company does everything they can to get those people to start smoking again. Bob and Ray, Dick Van Dyke, Bob Newhart and Jean “Edith Bunker” Stapleton all showed up, along with Poston, and it’s a great example of all of those people at their best. Poston’s town drunk is a cliché, but not the way he plays it. He made everything he did his own.
Watch something they did today. Play nice in talkback. Sing their praises a little.
Drew McWeeny, Los Angeles
Drew McWeeny, Los Angeles
