The icon Paul Newman called a terrible co-star: “He lacked screen generosity”
Paul Newman had a tortured relationship with Hollywood. He wrestled with self-doubt, despaired at the constant attention he got from strangers everywhere he went, and avoided interviews wherever possible. For the most part, however, he got along with his fellow actors, forming friendships with everyone from Robert Redford to comedian Jackie Gleason, and becoming a mentor to Tom Cruise.
However, there was one legendary co-star who got on his bad side right away. In 1958, Newman starred opposite Orson Welles in the Southern melodrama The Long, Hot Summer. Based on several stories by famed author William Faulkner, it starred Newman as a drifter who gets caught up in the tangled drama of a wealthy Mississippi family. Welles played the patriarch who tries to coerce his daughter (played by Newman’s wife Joanne Woodward) to marry his new protege. Behind the scenes, Newman was none too impressed with Welles’ behaviour.
“He was pretty standoffish and he seemed to feel uneasy around Actors Studio people,” Newman said in his memoir, The Extraordinary Life of an Ordinary Man. He was referencing the acting school that was known for turning out method actors like Marlon Brando, James Dean, and, later, Robert De Niro and Al Pacino. Both Newman and Woodward were products of the studio, as was their co-star Anthony Franciosa, who played Welles’ son in the film.
This uneasiness makes sense, given the generational divide. But considering that Welles had to forge his way through Hollywood’s stuffy studio systems to get movies like Citizen Kane and The Magnificent Ambersons made, you might think that he’d appreciate a new generation of filmmakers who were coming in to shake things up. As one of Hollywood’s greatest enfants terribles, he should have recognised kindred spirits when he saw them. According to Newman, however, it wasn’t just the usual friction between generations; Welles had a touch of the Norma Desmond about him.
“Orson couldn’t understand screen generosity, where one actor allows another player in his scene to deservedly get the best camera shots,” Newman wrote, recalling that Welles would intentionally drag out his own dialogue in a scene in order to ensure he’d have more screen time than his co-star. On one occasion, Welles took director Martin Ritt aside to tell him that Newman was hogging the spotlight.
After the film was released, Ritt became known as “the man who tamed Orson Welles.” Newman might not have enjoyed being part of the taming process, but The Long, Hot Summer did help secure his reputation as a worthy challenger to Brando for roles. He received the strongest reviews of his career to date for the movie, though it has since been eclipsed by Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, which came out five months later and featured a similar tone and character.
Ironically, Welles’ over-the-top acting only serves to underscore Newman’s tightly-coiled performance. While the older actor chews the scenery, his co-star simmers and seethes to what is ultimately a much more interesting display of talent. Perhaps Welles’ aloofness and selfishness had more to do with insecurity than disdain.
