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JACK PALANCE, BELINDA EMMETT
Actor Jack Palance has died at 87.
UPDATE. Australian actress Belinda Emmett has died at just 32 after being diagnosed with cancer eight years ago.
God speed, Mr. Palance. The last of the Real Men in Hollywood. We will miss you!
Posted by Sharon Ferguson on 2006 11 10 at 10:48 PM • permalink#4: Haven’t seen that, will have to check it out. I’ve seen Palance in a stack of films, mostly giving either good performances in third-rate movies (eg. Cyborg 2) or hilariously over-the-top efforts in films that shouldn’t be taken seriously (eg. Tango And Cash, Alone In The Dark). Condolences to his family and friends.
Palance also made the best version of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde I’ve seen on film. The transformation from meek doctor to monster was made with a minimum of makeup and special effects, and an enormous amount of acting skill. Well worth checking out if you haven’t seen it yet. He will be missed.
Posted by Urbs in Horto on 2006 11 10 at 11:54 PM • permalinkJack Palance was one of my favorites. I remember him from my early teens. Shane was the first movie in which I saw him. He did a couple of wonderful Film Nior, as well, most notably Sudden Fear, with Joan Crawford, for which he was nominated for an Academy Award.
On of his most memorable performances, however, was in Rod Serling’s Requiem for a Heavyweight, wherein Palance got to showcase not only his dramatic acting ability as something other than a villain, but his boxing prowess as well. Palance had been a professional boxer before he went into the service during WWII. See it, if you ever get the chance.
He received severe injuries to his face, giving him his distinctive look, when he had to jump from a burning plane during training in the desert.
A dry wind rattled the windows of the saloon, and a triumphant gambler rattled the silver dollars on the table, as he slammed down his hand.
“Four aces!” His deep, rolling, yet somehow hollow laughter rumbled like a sack of potatoes upended in a wooden bin. An arrogant smile split his gaunt face as he reached out to corral the pot. He halted part way through stacking his winnings and listened.
The measured stride of boots on the plank sidewalk could be heard approaching the door of the saloon, accompanied by the jingling sound of silver rowls. A man pushed open the swing doors and walked to the bar.
He was of medium height, with broad shoulders and narrow hips, and he was wearing a thin coat of trail dust over his wide-brimmed hat and faded blue cavalry shirt. The barkeep, a short, bald-headed fellow with a walrus mustache, smiled at the man and poured him a shot of whiskey.
Big John said, “Deal me out, boys”. He pushed his chair back and slowly walked over to stand beside the stranger.
Big John was a tall, slender man with a cadaverous face, and he sneered down at the newcomer with pure malice.
“So, stranger, tell me. What’s the capital of Bolivia?”
The stranger sipped his whiskey in silence, staring into the huge mirror behind the bar.
“What’s the square root of 289?”
The stranger didn’t turn his head; he just took another sip of whiskey.
“Who wrote Barnaby Rudge?”
The stranger said nothing.
Big John let out a raucous laugh. “Haw, haw! Don’t worry your brain over it, Mister. I figured from the fact that you used to be in the army that you were too stupid to know the answers!”
The stranger turned slowly to face Big John, and leaned on the bar.
“Well, Stretch, the capital of Bolivia is La Paz, the square root of 289 is 17, and Charles Dickens wrote Barnaby Rudge . Now I’ve got a question for you: what’s the difference between a real cowboy and a fake one?”
Big John, taken aback by the stranger’s intelligence and cool demeanor, asked in a surly voice, “What’s the difference?”
“With a real cowboy, the shit’s on the outside of his boots.” The stranger knocked back the rest of his whiskey and started to push by Big John, when he halted suddenly, reached up to Big John’s Stetson, and plucked an ace of spades out of his hatband.“That’s some magic hat you got there, Stretch.” He tossed the ace on the bar and strode out into the cool desert night.
Big John stood stock still for a moment, staring at his feet, encased in a spotless new pair of python skin boots ordered all the way from Boston. The blood rose in his face, and his hand almost involuntarily reached up to undo the thong over the hammer of his revolver, and remove it from the holster.
A shot rang out, and Big John’s gun flew out of his hand. He turned savagely to face the man who had done it. He growled at him through clenched teeth. “Why’d you do that, Curly?”
Curly – a grizzled old rancher with a face like a chunk of granite, but with twinkling eyes and a crooked smile – said in a soft, raspy voice, that was, nonetheless, strong enough to carry across the room, “Don’t get all riled up, Big John. Believe it – or not - you ought to thank me for saving your life.”
“What do you mean?”, he asked, as he wrapped his bandana around his bleeding hand.
The barkeep ambled over to Big John, and said in a low voice, “Good, Lord, Big John! Don’t you know who that man at the bar was? That was the Paco Kid!”
The color drained from Big John’s face, and sweat broke out on his brow. “Give me a whiskey”, he ordered hoarsely. “And - thanks, Curly.”
Sad news about Belinda Emmett. May she rest in peace.
I saw Palance interviewed once (vis-a-vis City Slickers I think) and the journalist prefaced his opening question by saying “[Billy Crystal, I think] told us that Jack Pa-LANCE is one of the all-time…” The hard man interrupted him: “No he didn’t”. Uh-oh. “Oh yes,” insisted the journalist, “he said that Jack Pa-LANCE was…” Again: “No he didn’t. Billy Crystal didn’t say that.” And he was deadly serious. Old Jack looked just plain scary and the reporter very nervous. Finally, the frightening old coot explained: “Billy Crystal didn’t say that of Jack Pa-LANCE. He knows my name is Jack PALance.”
Man, he wasn’t to be trifled with.
My condolences to Belinda’s family—I never saw her perform, but I understand the loss of a loved one.
Jack Palance will be missed. I enjoyed all of his movies, and though I never saw the interview C.L. mentions in #15, I totally believe it! Jack was that sort of man.
Posted by The_Real_JeffS on 2006 11 11 at 01:45 AM • permalinkSympathies to Belinda’s family and her beloved Rove. I really thought she had beaten it, what with her spirit and determination. Sometimes life just doesn’t follow the script you want.
As for Jack Palance, I remember seeing him way back when in that obscure fantasy movie Hawk - he made a great villian and will be missed.
RIP Jack Palance. Loved him in Shane and Sudden Fear. I always have the most admiration for actors like him who seemed to stay above the Hollywood fray. His comment about directors is hilarious.
Sympathies also to the family of Belinda Emmett.
Posted by Polish Frizzle on 2006 11 11 at 02:19 AM • permalinkI’ll always remember his performance in Godard’s Contempt: he had no difficulty giving a new wave highbrow exactly the performance he wanted. I’ll also remember his snarling aside after being introduced by Billy Crystal at the Oscars: “Billy Crystal? Huh, I crap bigger than that!” And the years of fun watching him ham it up on Ripley’s Believe it or not!”
I will have to agree with that comment about Requiem for a Heavyweight. I have seen 2 versions of it - one with Anthony Quinn and Ed Wynn and the other with Jack Palance and Jackie Gleason. Either one is a winner. Jack Palance was absolutely unbelievably good in the role. He was like Pres Bush - very much misunderstood for far too much of his career.
He epitomized the truth of the line from Sunset Boulevard about how he stayed big, the movies got small.
#16: Thank you, lad!
The final stand-off between Alan Ladd and Jack Palance in Shane is one of the best scenes in the Western film genre. I also recall him as being particularly scary as the very persistent hitman in Second Chance, starring one of my all-time favorites, Robert Mitchum, and the gorgeous Linda Darnell. A fine, fine actor.
Believe it or not, but Jack Palance is (was) my wife’s cousin (many times removed). They are both descended from a stock of Spanish/Portuguese Jews who settled in England many centuries ago. He was born Palache (other family members del Canho and Mossafia, which was my wife’s great-grandmothers surname).
MAY HIS DEAR SOUL REST IN PEACE.
Posted by rampisadmukerjee on 2006 11 11 at 05:42 PM • permalink#27 Nothing to correct - Spanish Jews were expelled 5 centuries ago, and spread out all over Europe, mainly via Holland and England. Nearly a third of Ukranians (up to WWII) were Jewish.
Palance had a lot of family in South Africa, who came from Lithuania.
Posted by rampisadmukerjee on 2006 11 13 at 05:40 AM • permalink
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Think he’ll do push-ups at the Pearly Gates like he did at the Oscars?