“You’re a smart man, Mr. Gallagher. I’m pretty smart myself.” – Wilford Brimley to Paul Newman in the movie Absence of Malice.
Most of us, if we admit it, grow up idolizing someone on movie or TV screens. Some of us could probably ‘fess up to having acting idols in our adult years.
As a kid, I came up in the times of Roy Rogers, Gene Autry, William “Hopalong Cassidy” Boyd and Lash LaRue (he of the whip instead of gun [ha!]). And, Smiley “Frog” Burnette, he of the bug eyes of, er, uh, well, a frog, probably a politically incorrect handle and reference today. However, Burnette was known as Frog in most of the westerns he played in with Gene Autry.
With the advent of television, adulthood and serious dramas debuted. One of the few that attracted me was “Our House,” starring Wilford Brimley, Deidre Hall and Shannon Doherty.
Brimley was the sometimes gruff (isn’t he always), widower father-in-law, Hall was his widowed daughter-in-law and Doherty was Hall’s daughter and Brimley’s granddaughter.
Hall (grrr! woof, woof!) came to “Our House” from a successful career in soap operas. If I remember correctly, she returned to that after the run on the show with Brimley and Doherty, a child star who went on to do more TV and movies.
Hall’s soap credits came from “Days of Our Lives” and “The Guiding Light,” both of which my late mother was a devoted fan.
Brimley’s introduction to me came in “Absence of Malice,” where he had what I considered a show-stealing, five-or-so-minute appearance near the end of the movie.
Some setting of the stage is necessary to understand how memorable my introduction to this fine actor occurred.
Matinee-idol (snarl! snap! jealousy!) Newman’s role in “Absence” was that of an honest liquor warehouse owner who is put under extreme scrutiny by a despicably aggressive Justice Department lawyer, Elliot Rosen, played by Bob Balabem.
Sally Field, one of my favorite actors, played an inquisitive and aggressive newspaper reporter. She’s tipped off by Rosen/Balabem that Justice is investigating a Mafia hit of a labor organizer and infers that Newman is responsible. Rosen’s shady goal is to use Field to pressure Newman so the miscreant prosecutor can ride the headlines into bigger things.
Field’s reporting inadvertently leads to the suicide of Newman’s childhood friend and prompts him to consider a lawsuit although he knows the deck is stacked against him because of his father was a Mafia boss. So, Newman sets a trap for Field and she falls for it and, of course, for him. Dang it, don’t they always.
Of course, prosecutor Rosen, with visions of headlines and promotion dancing in his head, jumps on the case without doing due diligence and is ensnared in Newman’s trap for all feds and for Field.
The movie ends with a couple of excellent scenes. One is Field taking leave and hinting to Newman with those big magic eyes of hers that she’d like to see him again under better circumstances.
The other scene is Brimley’s stealing the show with his dressing down of his overly ambitious underling prosecutor.
“Elliot, what’d you figure you’d do after government service?” Brimley asks.
Rosen feigns shocked innocence and says, “I’m not quitting.”
Brimley says calmly. “You ain’t no Presidential appointee, Elliott. One that hired you is me. You got 30 days.”
There was at least a smattering of applause after that remark.
With hindsight, you figure how could the movie miss: Newman, Field and Brimley.
It was my introduction, as I said, to Brimley and made a fan of me. I’ve dreamed of being the hero prosecutor and a doting grandfather.
Oh, well, .500’s not a bad batting average.
Willis Webb is a retired community newspaper editor-publisher of more than 50 years experience.
wwebb@att.net
