The last few days have been mostly miserable in world and entertainment news, and you know I generally don’t focus on miserable things on this blog. There’s plenty of that to be found elsewhere, in the views of people smarter and stupider than I am.
But like a lot of people, occasionally I feel personally affected by a celebrity death, and I was saddened to wake up today and read that actor James Garner has died at age eighty-six. I think more than any other actor, he shaped my idea of what a leading man should be, and I know for sure that carried over into the kind of men I like to write, especially as romantic leads.
It begins, as so many stories do, with “I blame my mother.” I was a wee thing, and maybe it was a day that my mother had to take me to a doctor or something, and felt like we needed a treat, so she and I went to a matinee. In later years, we’d laugh together at the education I got when we watched The Americanization of Emily. I’ve never seen the movie again as an adult, but I vaguely remember lots of bedroom scenes in James Garner’s portrayal of a cowardly and reluctant war hero who wants to win the heart of Emily (played by Julie Andrews).
“It was Mary Poppins and Maverick!” my mother would always say in her own defense.
Whatever else impressionable me might have taken from that day, the movie began my lifelong adoration of James Garner. Though I had to see most of his early television work in syndication, including “Maverick,” I was an avid “Rockford Files” fan. But any time I saw his name on the credits of any TV show or movie, I knew I was in good hands–and that his leading ladies would be, too. What a list that includes, along with Andrews: Audrey Hepburn, Doris Day, Shirley MacLaine, Sally Field, Lauren Bacall, Gena Rowlands, Angie Dickinson, Elke Summer, Ellen Burstyn, Suzanne Pleshette, Natalie Wood, Lee Remick, Eva Marie Saint, Jodie Foster, Sandra Bullock. Whether he played romantic lead, friend, or father, he could blend tender, rugged, wry, and strong like nobody else. Along with his emotional range, he was as unafraid to play physical humor as to do his own stunts (a tendency that caused him a lot of injuries and physical pain).
He brought the same wry humor and daring to his screen interactions with his male costars, and unlike a lot of them, his movie masculinity didn’t translate to stories of bad behavior in his personal life. As both performer and person, he always appeared to be a gentleman. A leading man indeed. Rest in peace, James Garner.
This caricature was drawn by artist Pete Emslie on Garner’s birthday this year. You can see Emslie’s other birthday tributes to Garner on his blog.
I don’t think I can name a girl of a certain age who wasn’t a little bit in love with James Garner … Oh, Rockford!
I watched the scene today when he kisses Sally Field in Murphy’s Romance for the first time. She’s always said it was the best onscreen kiss she ever got.
I am a longtime James Garner fan. Many Saturdays I spent at The Grove Theater in Garden Grove, CA. watching him on the big screen – back when the big screen was really big, every movie was a double feature, and the cost for a day’s entertainment was fifty cents (plus whatever candy we smuggled in). Mom used to drop us off at noon and come back for us at six – wonderful childhood memories filled with fun and no fear anywhere in the parking lot.
I remember him from one of my favorite WW II movies, “The Great Escape.” He was the guy who could rustle up or scrounge almost whatever was needed for the escape effort. I too saw “The Americanization of Emily,” but the bedroom scenes went right over my nine/ten-year-old head. I will always remember him as the unwilling “first man on the beach” who just had to be, according to his commanding officer, an American sailor.
One of his less heralded roles is one of my favorites in “Support Your Local Sheriff.” It had a great cast with Walter Brennan, Harry Morgan, Joan Hackett, Jack Elam, and a very young Bruce Dern, who played Walter Brennan’s criminal son, who was being held by Garner in newly-built local jail that had yet to install the bars. Garner just drizzled red paint on the floor and told Dern, “That was the last guy who tried to escape.” It is still a great comedy, at least to me. (The sequel, “Support Your Local Gunfighter” was a bit pale in comparison).
I fudged my age and sneaked in to see him play Phillip Marlowe in “Marlowe” rated “M” (for mature) and saw my first big screen bare bosoms (there were pasties involved) when I was thirteen. I took Lynn to see “Murphy’s Romance” and remember the ending where Sally Field invites him stay for dinner. “I’ll stay for dinner, but only if I’m still here for breakfast.” SF, “How do you like your eggs?” And you’ve got to mention “Space Cowboys,” if for no other reason than the cast of the four greats: Garner, Eastwood, Sutherland, and Tommy Lee.
My Dad actually met him a couple of times when Dad was running a Cadillac/
Oldsmobile dealership in Laguna Beach, CA. Dad said he was kind, down-to-earth, and “just a nice guy.”
Raise a glass to Rockford, Rocky, and Becker. Jim, you will be missed, but never forgotten as we will always have the films. Also, I love the caricature. Nice touch, nicely done.
That scene from Support Your Local Sheriff is a classic! So many good movies and good memories. I haven’t seen Marlowe which means it’s going on the list.
I love it when you share your memories. Thank you.
Garner was a natural, who couldn’t star in anything you wouldn’t like. I actually bought the first season of Rockford Files from Amazon today. So he would help the RPM pups, too. OK, so they don’t make TV shows like that anymore.
RPM thanks you! I’m sure James Garner would like knowing that. I think I’m going to have to rewatch all of “Maverick” and “The Rockford Files,” too. Maybe my winter watching this year…
why do seemingly all writers, reviewers routinely fail to mention “Nichols,” one of jim’s best roles? and, of course, my own acting was, as always, superb. plus, having a young margot kidder around made life on the set interesting, and provided a name to canine companions for many years to come.
I totally missed “Nichols.” I blame boys.
YOU, however, will always be synonymous with “Love, American Style.” Ah, 1970s TV–truer than the red, white, and blue.