Cliff Robertson

When he won his Oscar he commented that he had never even been invited to the ceremonies before because he was never considered important enough.  He never forgot that.. and for good reason.

Cliff Robertson had been ambitious and wanted to act.  I doubt that becoming a star was that important to him or at least I hope he got to that place when he noticed the plum parts going to others.

I thought he was generally a good actor and a few times a very good one.  There were occasions where he deservedly took some bows in his six-decade career.  He made a few good and notable films, he was good in them and a few dozen more, too, but there are those others.  So many of those others.  

The question, of course, is why had it come to working in such a lot of ordinary stuff?  I would see him in some of it and found him wonderful in a role but the movie itself was not so hot.  He would have a triumph here and there and it was right back to work he couldn't have been very happy about.  He even seemed to suffer the old Oscar curse... you know... you win one of them and everyone seems to lose your number afterwards.

There was a blandness about him or at least his characters.  He spoke in a monotone and usually looked a little bit confused or uncomfortable.  More importantly he lacked that certain spark that elevated one to a top screen personality.  He had to have been aware of the star wattage created by Paul Newman, Robert Redford, Steve McQueen, Harrison Ford, Warren Beatty, Burt Lancaster, Clint Eastwood and so many more.  It couldn't have been easy for him.

He wasn't dangerous or exciting, he wasn't particularly funny and he was not a stud muffin who wowed the ladies.  And unfortunately he didn't consistently make fine movies.  He was, however, a highly-trained actor who consistently turned in good work. 

I expect there came a time, just 8-10 movies in, that studio execs and some of the public caught on to something.  What Robertson had to offer, fine as it was, was better suited to playing the best friend, boss or a boring husband the wife is cuckolding.  And bam! he was into secondary leads and character roles. and doing movie upon movie that was beneath his talent.   

Ah, wait a minute I say, to fully appreciate this actor he has to be given full rein to being dangerous.  He does indeed know how to be dangerous... as a villain.  He had a great facility for being a secret (to the audience) bad guy because of his strong good guy demeanor.  If he didn't often surprise me in his early lead good guy roles, he certainly did so as a villain.  These films certainly show the value of playing against type. 

Well, mah gawd, wayr aw mah mannahs?  Here I am having my stream of consciousness about Robertson and you're dying to hear about where he was born and his unsettling childhood.   And you didn't say one word...!  Okay, then, here you go.

He was born in 1923 in La Jolla, California.  Seven years earlier it was the birthplace of another who would grow up to be an actor, Gregory Peck,  

It's been said Robertson's dashing father was the idle heir to a tidy sum of ranching money. It seemed idle only applied to earning money.  It did not apply to spending it.  He tapped the trust fun often.  Shortly after the birth of his son, father insisted upon a move to his home state of Texas and off they went.  When Clifford was one, the parents were divorced.

A year after that his mother died (at 21) and the little boy went to live with her parents in California.  Dad went on to several more marriages and numerous girlfriends.  He rarely saw his son.

While attending college Robertson decided he wanted to become an actor.  I am guessing he liked that actorly thing of being able to jump into the skin of another person.  Before he could act upon his impulses, there was that stint  with the Merchant Marines.

He got to New York City shortly after becoming a civilian again.  He got on early with the prestigious Actors Studio and joined some famous others to become a lifetime member.  He was hired by a small, traveling acting troupe in the Catskills, appearing in Three Men on a Horse.

He was fortunate enough to join a lot of those live TV productions that were jewels in the crown of early television and he worked in other shows as well.

For two years Robertson was in the road company of Mister Roberts.   While Joshua Logan didn't direct the road company, he did the Broadway show and he and Robertson were aware of one another enough that the director hired him to perform on the stage in The Wisteria Trees (1952).  Logan eventually hired Robertson to play the lead, Hal, in Picnic.

When Logan signed on to make the film version of Picnic (1955) at Columbia, he thought of Robertson again but for the secondary male role of Alan Benson, son of the richest man in a lazy Kansas town.  The lead role of Hal would go to a too-old William Holden who, while Benson's pal, snatches his girl Madge (Kim Novak) away from him.  The film was a certifiable hit but Robertson got precious little of the attenti0n beyond who is he?

Autumn Leaves (1956) is arguably his best film.  It is one of those 1950s Joan Crawford flicks she was so famous for.  A flagging career saw her star in properties she would once have never considered.  The films were populated with younger stars, most of whom never stood a chance opposite a scene-hog like Crawford.  But when it's over, it is Robertson's mentally unstable and much younger husband that one remembers.  I thought he was frighteningly convincing.

In 1957 he married bit actress, Cynthia Stone.  She was six months divorced from Jack Lemmon.  Their union would last four years and produce a daughter.

War stories were never my favorite genre but I liked one of Robertson's well enough, The Naked and the Dead (1958). It was written by Norman Mailer, directed by Raoul Walsh and costarring Aldo Ray but it was not successful.  I thought it was picked on for being a watered-down, conventional retelling of Mailer's blistering novel about antagonism among soldiers on a Pacific outpost. 

If he wanted to be taken seriously why would he play The Big Kahuna, king of the beach bums, in teenage surfing silliness like Gidget (1959)?  Didn't he know everyone was there for Sandra Dee and James Darren?  

He took up flying with a vengeance.  He did his best thinking when he was piloting one of his planes and he would own many over the years, several of them vintage.  Truth be told, he would probably rather be known as an aviator over an actor.

He plays a criminal who wants to go straight in Underworld U.S.A. (1961) but the mob has other plans for him.  It is an early, gritty, B offering from Sam Fuller who knew his way around stories like this. 

The Interns (1962) features a large cast of actors who were new-ish and popular in this hospital drama.  It is routine stuff but, like Gidget, very popular (warranting a sequel).  Robertson was billed under Michael Callan.  Michael Callan!!!  Tell you what... we won't even discuss his role as a minister opposite Debbie Reynolds in My Six Loves (1963).

His name became famous when it was reported that President Kennedy called him personally to ask him to play the younger JFK in the big screen version of his war memoir P.T. 109 (1963).  (Never mind that Warren Beatty was called first... and declined.)  An actor couldn't ask for better free press but he could have asked for a more successful movie.  It did poor business not only upon its initial release but also its re-release after Kennedy's death.

Apparently it did, however, secure him a role as Jane Fonda's lothario brother in Sunday in New York (1963).  He is given some very funny lines... in fact, it was great fun seeing him let loose for a change.  Fonda is visiting Robertson when she happens to meet and fall for Rod Taylor while nursing the end of her former relationship with Robert Culp.  Rom-com all the way with three engaging leads.

The Best Man (1964) is arguably the best role Robertson ever had.  Hmmm, I think I said the same thing about Autumn Leaves.  Well, they gotta share because the role here as Henry Fonda's more ruthless opponent in a presidential race comes in a very good film.  Fonda is a man of principle and Robertson is not.  Their scenes together are brilliantly executed and written bitingly by Gore Vidal.

Sparring with Henry Fonda

Once again what does he do?  After getting good notices, some of the best of his career, he makes Love Has Many Faces (1965), a slushy Lana Turner opus about horny, middle-aged people making fools of themselves on the Mexican Riviera.  La Lana had a tough decision... stick with her whiny, lapdog husband (our boy) on the yacht or go have a romp with a heavily-tanned Hugh O'Brian in his tight speedos.  You know, Lana liked to romp.

Robertson and Merrill

Robertson wed socialite-actress Dina Merrill in 1966.  Her parents were cereal heiress Marjorie Merriweather Post and financial wizard E. F. Hutton.  It would be his second, final and longest marriage.  Another daughter would be born.  One rarely heard of Robertson if he weren't making a film but now there he was in the society pages of newspapers and on the news attending some function that all the local socialites were attending.   

The Honey Pot (1967) is the story of a wealthy eccentric (Rex Harrison) who, inspired by his favorite play, Volpone, devises a plan to invite three of his former mistresses (Susan Hayward, Capucine and Edie Adams) to his villa and prank them into thinking he's dying.  He hires a gigolo/actor (Robertson) to help him with his schemes while pretending to be the man's secretary.  Unfortunately for all, the joke turns into murder... or is that murders?

It had some fun moments.  Perhaps it was my being so mesmerized seeing Hayward and Capucine (two of my favorite actresses) in the same movie, not to mention the same scene that caused the movie to not always make sense to me.  It took a couple of viewings to see it was obviously poorly edited.  Despite Joseph Mankiewicz's savvy direction and Maggie Smith's presence as Hayward's secretary, it didn't all come together.  Despite the lofty cast, third-billed Robertson probably has the most screen time and he makes the most of it.

He had a good role in The Devil's Brigade (1968) opposite his Picnic buddy William Holden but the war film was little more than mediocre.

He had starring roles in TV adaptations of The Hustler and The Days of Wine and Roses only to see the movie versions go to other actors who would be Oscar-nominated for their work.  In 1961 when he appeared on the tube in The Two Worlds of Charly Gordon, he was so impressed with the part that he bought the screen rights for himself.

It took Robertson seven years to get the financial backing for Charly (1968).  It is the story of a mentally retarded man (there he goes again) who becomes a genius after an operation and has his life lifted as a result only to suffer a regression and return to his former self.

It would have been a good role for any actor and it certainly was for Robertson.  He shamelessly campaigned for an Oscar, something Hollywood generally dislikes but it must have worked because he won the golden prize.  Afterwards many Hollywoodites claimed he won for promotion rather than performance.  Sometimes he appears on lists of actors who should not have won an Oscar for a particular role.  I'm always surprised to see his name included.

In 1969 during the civil war conflict in Nigeria, he flew food and medical supplies into the region as did others who flew private aircraft.  He did the same for Ethiopia in 1978 when that country experienced famine.

In 1971 he passed up a chance to play Dirty Harry (ooops) and a year later said nobody made more mediocre films than I did.  And so many more to come...

The likely reason he passed on Harry is because he was about to direct his first film, J. W. Coop (1971). which he would also write, produce and take the title role.  It would take up a lot of his time but he was excited about the directing gig.  It would turn out to be only one of two movie directorial assignments.

Coop is a rodeo rider rehabilitated after after years in prison.  It is a B effort but a good one and Robertson fills the role well.  Unfortunately it failed at the box office despite getting excellent reviews and Robertson was bitterly disappointed.

The Great Northfield Minnesota Raid (1972) is based on an actual bank robbery involving the James boys and the Younger brothers.  Robertson plays Cole Younger but he was overshadowed by a crazed Robert Duvall as Jesse James.  Good flick.

He certainly attained high visibility with Three Days of the Condor (1975) a chase thriller starring Robert Redford and Faye Dunaway.  I super loved this one and Robertson is cagey and suspicious... a yummy role for him.

With Redford

Brian De Palma's Obsession (1976) concerns a wealthy New Orleans businessman who becomes fixated on a young woman who resembles his wife.  Costar Geneviève Bujold commented that the actor was obsessed alright... with checking himself out in the mirror.  De Palma didn't like working with Robertson at all.

It was but a year later that.. and I loathe being indelicate...  the excrement hit the whirring appliance.  It started off innocently enough for the actor.  He discovered his signature had been forged on a $10,000 check made payable to him for work he never performed.  It was discovered that David Begelman, head of Columbia Pictures, had forged the signature.  Robertson had options on how he could have handled it and his decision was to report it.  In doing so, a major Hollywood scandal came unraveled.

Robertson was asked to not speak of the affair but both he and Merrill spoke to the press numerous times and it enraged Hollywood and he was effectively blacklisted for some four or so years.  Begelman was charged with embezzlement, was fired and did time.  After a bankruptcy in 1995, he committed suicide.

Robertson's shunning for those four years, of course, never really stopped.  While he always had television and the stage to fall back on, something he'd always done throughout the years anyway, Hollywood never again truly embraced him.

In 1978 he went into production in Massachusetts with his second directorial assignment, Morning, Winter and Night,-- but after a week all was shut down for lack of funds.  

He tried the directorial route again in 1980 with The Pilot.  He was particularly gratified, of course, that it had to do with flying.  He gave himself the title role of a pilot with a big passenger airline, currently a candidate for Best Pilot of the Year, as he battles alcoholism and is outed by a coworker.  It didn't find its audience as I see it and too bad.

It had some insightful things to say about alcoholism and was lauded for it.  Perhaps Robertson knew something about the disease.  He hired Gordon MacRae (in his final film) and Dana Andrews, two known to struggle with drink, to perhaps bring some clarity to the project.

Star 80 (1983) creeped me out so much that I still try to get it out of my mind.  I do recall Robertson nailed it as Hugh Hefner.

Robertson and Merrill divorced in 1989.  It seemed like the perfect marriage to me and I was surprised at the announcement.  Apparently he was not easy to get along with, especially in the later years.  He was a Democrat and she a Republican... perhaps that became an issue as time went on.  Or maybe it was something else.

Without her he slipped back into relative anonymity.  He worked often in television, including a season on Falcon Crest.  His movies were more infrequent and a lot were misses.  One that did catch my attention was Wild Hearts Can't Be Broken (1991), a sweet indie in which he supported Gabrielle Anwar and Michael Schoeffling.  She plays a wannabe daredevil at a carnival, a woman who rides horses off high dives.

On September 11, 2001 Robertson was flying his Beechcraft Baron above the World Trade Center, climbing through 7,500 feet when the first Boeing 767 struck.  He was instructed by air traffic control to immediately land at the nearest airport.

Robertson drew the curtain on his movie career in 2007 after he played Ben Parker, the hero's uncle, in Spider-Man III.  He'd played the same role in Spider-Man I and II in 2002 and 2004.

He died in 2011, one day after his 88th birthday, of natural causes on Long Island.

His website says that a biography is planned for him.  I would certainly read it, especially in the hope that some of his secrets would be revealed.  I am suspicious of some aspects of his life.  Some whose careers suffered would allow their personal lives to open up in the hope that more familiarity would cause people to know and like them better and want to work with them..  But not Robertson.  I'm not speaking so much post-scandal but before.  He always kept a close watch on personal things.  I wonder why.

Next posting:

A musical from the forties