Sydney Pollack: A Tribute

Sydney Pollack (1934-2008)

For the past week I, like many others, have been trying to wrap my head around the fact that Academy Award winning director and gifted character actor Sydney Pollack passed away and somehow try to articulate my feelings on it. In just the past six months alone we’ve seen the passings of Heath Ledger, Brad Renfro, Roy Scheider and Anthony Minghella. That’s just too much. I refrained from commenting on those because I either wasn’t familiar enough with their work or didn’t have enough of a personal connection to it that my thoughts would add up to very much. Sydney Pollack is a different story.

His work has directly informed my perspective and appreciation of film, and those of countless others I’m sure. He directed and appeared in many films I loved as well as co-directed one I'd count among the very best pictures I've ever seen. I had heard rumors that he was ill with stomach cancer for the past several months but pushed it out of my mind, maybe secretly hoping if I ignored the news then it wouldn’t exist. I think this one’s so tough because he was such a life force on screen as an actor, always projecting a certain energy and vitality you didn’t see from many other actors half his age. He was 73 years old but it sure didn't seem like it.

It seems almost disingenuous to examine someone’s body of work and career when they’ve left us because we all know there’s so much more to a person than that and it should really be the last thing on our minds. He has a family that comes first and all of our thoughts should be with them before it’s with any of his cinematic contributions, but as fans, it’s funny sometimes how we feel we know these people through their work. It’s really all we have to go on, but in Sydney Pollack’s case that’s a very good thing because it’s clear he put a whole lot of himself into everything he did. During this past week everyone in the film industry who knew him described him as a class act all the way, which isn’t hard to believe given the warmth he projected in his appearances on screen, his interviews and the intelligent, personal films he directed over the years.

Ironically, just a couple of weeks ago I was trying to catch up on a couple of films I missed from year’s past and one of them was The Interpreter, the 2005 political thriller starring Sean Penn and Nicole Kidman. It would sadly end up being the last big studio picture Pollack directed and everyone (knowing my aversion to political thrillers) told me to stay as far away from it as possible. I didn’t, figuring with Pollack at the helm I had nothing to lose at least checking it out. I was right and ended up liking the film quite a bit. The best way to describe it is “smart” and that adjective could very well be applied to nearly all of his directorial efforts.

It’s a testament to Pollack’s exceptional work throughout his career that some considered it a disappointment, even though it garnered generally favorable notices, did reasonably well at the American box office and fared even better overseas. Looked at in context most filmmakers would be happy to have one film as good as The Interpreter on their resume' so maybe we were spoiled. But there was this feeling that the material was almost too commercial for a filmmaker of his talents, which is interesting when you consider he was primarily known as a big studio director who always worked with huge stars.
What most jumped out at me from that viewing and goes beyond the film itself was a conversation with Pollack on the special features in which he talks honestly and with a refreshing modesty you don’t find among many of today’s filmmakers. He didn’t bull shit and tell us what an enjoyable time he had making the film but instead acknowledged that it’s very hard, draining work and it could almost be considered a miracle if you come out on the other side with a movie that’s decent, much less actually good.

He confessed that there are moments of pure joy when you see an actor or actress really nail a scene but all in all, it’s just really difficult and he said that’s why he didn’t make as many films as some feel he should have. It makes sense then that in the final years of his career he turned to producing films he was passionate about rather than deal with the headaches that come with being a director, even one that great. You have to respect that.

As he went on some more talking about his notorious distaste for the pan-and-scan format that chopped all his films in half for TV viewing I was taken aback at how engaging he was and how he explained everything in a way that even someone who knew nothing about filmmaking would understand. He did it without coming off as condescending (like so many directors do in these interviews) and it as if you had sat down with a friend to discuss movies. He was just very open, matter-of-fact and no-nonsense. I think I would have paid money to see or hear his response to Blockbuster customers who don’t want “ those black bars across the screen” when they watch a movie. That would have been classic.

After starting his career as a theater actor in New York City he moved out to L.A. where he befriended Burt Lancaster who urged him to try directing. After a few projects under his belt, in 1968 he stepped in, uncredited, to complete the Lancaster suburban nightmare The Swimmer after Frank Perry walked off the picture due to creative differences with the allegedly difficult star. I’ve read differing reports of just how much was shot by Pollack but it’s of little relevance. Without him pinch-hitting for Perry who knows if it would have been completed and imagining a cinematic world without The Swimmer is something I’d rather not do. It was a pleasant surprise to read in the many tributes to Pollack this past week that his uncredited work on it started to become credited. You know when something like this appears as just a footnote on your resume' you've had one hell of a career.

He was just warming up because only a year later he would release another groundbreaking film that would mine similar themes of despair, They Shoot Horses, Don’t They? Arguably his greatest achievement, the film adapted from Horace McCoy’s 1935 novel about a sadistic Depression-era dance marathon, earned Pollack his first Oscar nomination for Best Director. You hear the expression often that certain films are “ahead of their time” but in this case it’s actually true. Despite its Depression-era setting the premise can almost be viewed as a bizarre predictor of the proliferation of reality television and entertainment exploitation as we headed into the next century. It plays just as well now as it did then, if not much better and used some very innovative techniques for its time (such as flash-forwards) that are still commonplace today. I’ve lost count of many times I’ve seen it and it just seems to gets better with each viewing.
Pollack would go on to direct many more acclaimed Oscar nominated and/or widely acclaimed films such as Jeremiah Johnson, Three Days of the Condor, Tootsie (probably his most popular picture) and Out of Africa (for which he won the Best Director Oscar) He worked with the biggest stars imaginable such as Paul Newman, Dustin Hoffman, Meryl Streep, Harrison Ford, Faye Dunaway, Tom Cruise and most famously Robert Redford (7 times). Pollack wasn’t particularly known for being a visual director and he’s even stated such in interviews but few were better “actor’s directors,” likely because he was such a great actor himself. As crazy as it may seem I think I actually preferred him as an actor, which is saying a lot considering his amazing accomplishments behind the camera.

Talking to other film fans since his passing it’s amazing how many have said that Sydney Pollack looked like or reminded them of someone they knew. Whether it was their next-door neighbor, their physician or that one uncle at family reunions who you’re actually happy to see. He just had this very welcoming familiar presence onscreen and a charisma that was hard to come by. You knew, no matter how small the part, when Pollack was playing it, he’d elevate it into something more. Whether it was his hilarious supporting turn as Dustin Hoffman's agent in Tootsie or his dark dramatic work as millionaire Victor Ziegler in Stanley Kubrick’s criminally underrated final film Eyes Wide Shut, he brought the goods. In a notorious story, Pollack reluctantly agreed to do that film as a favor to his good friend Kubrick who promised he’d be done in a week. Of course one week turned into three months as Kubrick did 50,000 takes of the pool table scene.

Even if the film Pollack was appearing in wasn’t very good you almost felt like breathing a sigh of relief when you saw him because you knew at least the picture would have one thing going for it. To an extent he was typecast playing wealthy, but fair men in positions of power and privilege, but it was only because directors knew no one could do it better. He would often act as the moral center and lone voice of reason for characters in situations way over their heads and help ground the narrative in reality with his compassionate performances. Whenever we needed to take a breather and assess the damage he seemed to be there with plain, forthright straight talk we couldn't get from any other character in the film.

At one point he was offered the role of porn director Jack Horner in Paul Thomas Anderson’s masterpiece Boogie Nights but turned it down with his family in mind out of concern about the subject matter (a decision he said he later regretted after seeing the film). Burt Reynolds went on to score an Academy Award nomination for the role and did an amazing job, but I honestly think Pollack would have been a better fit for the part.

Don’t get me wrong Reynolds was great but he always seemed like an actor who had to work very hard to convey any kind of warmth or protectiveness onscreen, which is what that role primarily called for. He pulled it off exceptionally well but something tells me that would have been effortless for Pollack. It was his specialty. Combine that with his actual experience as a film director and you have one of Hollywood’s greatest casting “what ifs.” It would have been fascinating to see what he could have done with that part.
One of his most memorable acting roles and greatest performances came in last year’s Best Picture nominee, Michael Clayton, and besides being the quintessential Pollack part, he also co-produced the film. Over the span of his career he produced over 40 other films, most recently the HBO movie Recount, which he was scheduled to direct at one point but had to bow out due to his declining health. I haven’t seen it but from what I heard, it was a good film that would have been even better had Pollack filmed it. Ironically enough, his producing partner was the late Anthony Mingella, which makes a lot of sense since both directors had a gift for being able to make big commercially friendly pictures without ever sacrificing the emotional immediacy of the story. You could see where they’d have similar sensibilities when it comes to film and would work well together.

In a fitting way, Michael Clayton really felt like the kind of movie Pollack would direct himself in the ‘70’s, the kind of smart, character driven thrillers they don’t make nearly enough of anymore. He’ll be remembered going out with his acting work in that rather than his supporting role in the recent romantic comedy Made of Honor (although, joking aside, I’m willing to bet he did exceptional work in that too).

Sydney Pollack was the rare filmmaker who was successfully able to straddle the line between art and entertainment and was a consistent, commanding onscreen presence through the years that we often took for granted. There’s good reason to be sad about this but it’s also an opportunity to celebrate his work and the lasting cinematic legacy he’s left us. He’ll be missed. R.I.P. Sydney.