Paul Newman (57 page)

“TW
Interviews Paul Newman.”
This Week
, April 13, 1969

Thomas, Bob. “Paul Newman: His Life Story.”
Good Housekeeping
, May 1979

Tyler, Ralph. “A New Newman.”
On Cable
, April 1983

Wilson, Earl. “Paul Newman: Beer, Popcorn and Perception.”
Los Angeles Mirror News
, May 9, 1959

Wilson, Jane. “Paul Newman: ‘What if My Eyes Turn Brown?’”
Saturday Evening Post
, February 24, 1968

Woodward, Joanne. Oral History. Oral History Research Office, Columbia University, June 1959

Zeithin, Arnold. “Clevelander Paul Newman Revels in His Return to the Broadway Stage.”
Cleveland Plain Dealer
, April 13, 1959

I never spoke with Paul Newman.

I wanted to; I tried.

I first got the idea to write this biography in late 2005 and was given a green light from Harmony Books the following spring. Not long after that I contacted Warren Cowan, who was still representing the Newmans in a public-relations capacity from his Los Angeles office. I introduced myself, told him what my project was about, and forwarded him a copy of the book proposal that I’d written for Harmony, describing my attitude toward Newman and his life. Warren thanked me for contacting him and being open about my project, and he informed me that he was “99 percent certain” that the Newmans would not be interested in participating. In fact, he asked his assistant to read the following statement to me, a bit of boilerplate the Newmans had prepared to deal with requests of the sort I was making:

As a matter of course, I called Cowan again about three weeks later and was told the Newmans were, in fact, not interested in assisting my book project. And then, just to be sure, I called back one last time, in about July 2007; once again I was told the door to Newman was closed. And then I began to hear that he was ill, and I determined to respect his privacy.

By that time I had done a lot of research: talking to colleagues, acquaintances, collaborators; sorting through previously published biographies of Newman and people he had known or worked with; reading histories of his hometown, his colleges, the Actors Studio, the Hollywood system; gathering and absorbing literally thousands of articles, interviews, archived papers, transcripts, letters, memos, and legal documents; watching films and TV shows and listening to audio recordings. I traveled to New York and Los Angeles and Cleveland and Gambier, Ohio, and added even more material about his days and deeds to my file cabinets, of which three full drawers were eventually filled with Newmaniana.

I kept up the hope that I would someday be able to speak with the man himself—if only to nail down some wobbly details that continually beguiled me. But I always suspected I’d never have the chance. So I did the next best thing: I assembled a massive interview with Newman out of the things he had told other interviewers. Starting with his family origins, continuing through his childhood and schooling, tracing his acting career from the start to the end, and touching on his marriages, his children, his homes, his habits, his racing career, his businesses, his politics, his philanthropy, and his health: his life, in his words, in chronological order, with the added benefit that he was often talking about things quite soon after experiencing or doing them. It was, in effect, the sort of soup-to-nuts interview that an authorized biographer might have gotten out of him: nearly forty thousand words’ worth. True, I was relying on the work of previous writers—and on their accuracy, their ears, their instincts, and their interests—but barring access to the man himself, it seemed the next best thing.

Throughout the writing of this book, I used that massive collection of Newman’s raw words as a road map and a tuning fork. I came to hear in those words his voice, as it were, quite vividly: repetitions, variations,
inflections, confessions, lapses, elisions, evasions, favorite words, favorite stories. I developed a sense for when he was being open and when he was just doing the work of being interviewed. It wasn’t the same as actually asking him questions, but it gave me a real feel for him.

I also spoke with about fifty people who knew Newman, if only briefly. Of course, without the blessing of the Newmans, there were many folks who weren’t willing to talk to even the most respectful and best-intentioned author. For example, through mutual acquaintances I was granted an introduction to Stewart Stern, Newman’s best man at his wedding to Joanne and a lifelong friend. He promptly and graciously told me that he wouldn’t dream of participating in a project that his old friend hadn’t authorized; but he pointed me toward some valuable resources, and I thank him for that.

Other friends and associates of Newman’s were willing to talk to me only if they weren’t cited or acknowledged, and I hereby thank them by respecting their wishes for anonymity. Among the interviewees and sources whom I’m free to name, I am obliged to Bob Ames, Nancy Bacon, Peggy Behrens, Pete Belov, Robert Benton, John Cohan, Brad Coley, John Considine, Jonathan Demme, Bill Demora, Todd Field, Barbara Fyfe, Jack Garfein, Joel Grey, Todd Haynes, Sally Kirkland, Hugh Leslie, Ted Mahar, John Malkovich, Peter McAlevey, Karin McPhail, Don Mitchell, Don Peasley, Arthur Penn, Richard Russo, Ron Shelton, Bill Tammeus, and Ted Walch.

Two folks I spoke with were especially helpful in supplying me with information and images: Sue Bronson and Kurt Wanieck. I was given valuable materials (or told how to get them) by Rosemary Acena, Roger Friedman, and Jon Ward. And I was led to specific interview sources by Laura Bobovski, Charlie Haddad, Gabriel Mendoza, Marc Mohan, Russ Smith, Janet Wainwright, and Mark Wigginton.

I’m especially grateful to Clint O’Connor of the
Cleveland Plain Dealer
for help in researching Newman’s early years—and particularly for connecting me to childhood acquaintances of Newman’s who still call northeastern Ohio their home. I’d also like to thank a few friends who passed along ideas, materials, tips on sources, or generally helpful vibes, including Doug Holm, Ray Pride, David Row, Mike Russell, Tom Sutpen, Willy Vlautin, and Jeffrey Wells.

I worked on this book using a number of archives and libraries, including the Multnomah County Library (especially its interlibrary loan service and the quiet rooms at its Hillsdale branch), the Margaret Herrick Library of the Motion Picture Academy of Arts and Sciences, the UCLA Film and Television Archive, the Humanities and Social Sciences Library of the New York Public Library, the Billy Rose Theater Division of the New York Public Library for the Performing Arts, the Oral History Research Office of Columbia University, the Cleveland Public Library, the Special Collections Department of the Cleveland State University Library, the Reference Department of the Western Reserve Historical Society, and the Special Collections and Archives Department of Kenyon College’s Library and Information Services. I used any number of online archives, including
Ancestry.com
, the Encyclopedia of Cleveland History,
Genealogy.com
, Google News, the Internet Movie Database, Lexis-Nexis, Rootsweb, and Wikipedia.

In Portland I was able to use three resources of the sort that make it the best city I can imagine in which to be a working writer: Powell’s Books, which is bigger than a lot of libraries—and has better hours; Movie Madness, which had virtually every film Newman made on its shelves, along with some real rarities; and ActivSpace, where I was able to work cozily away in just about the perfect writer’s garret.

Also in Portland I got access to some resources through my work at the
Oregonian
, and I have a great many people to thank there. The management of the newspaper were generous in allowing me to arrange my schedule to work on the book; I thank Fred Stickel, Sandra Rowe, Peter Bahtia, and Tom Whitehouse for their support. My editors were, as ever, exemplary: I thank Shawn Vitt, Grant Butler, and Jolene Krawczak for their unflagging patience and collegiality. And I haven’t anything near the means to thank Barry Johnson for his peerless editorship, his long-lasting friendship, and especially his careful reading of the first third of the manuscript of this book—and his subsequent assurance that I would not be out of my mind to continue writing it.

As good a friend is Richard Pine, an exemplary sounding board, head shrinker, and businessman—just the qualities you want in an agent; thanks, too, to his colleagues at Inkwell Management.

I didn’t know John Glusman when he commissioned the book from
me, and he was patient, keen-eyed, and sure as an editor; I’m lucky to have gotten to work with him. Thanks as well to Anne Berry, Kate Kennedy, and the many other people at Harmony whom I’ve gotten to know only in the final weeks of my work, especially copy editor Janet Biehl, a great eye. I feel in very good hands.

My chief thanks go to my family. The kids—Vince, Anthony, and Paula—have always been cheerful and inspiring despite the mania that settles on their dad when he gets to work. And their mother, Mary Bartholemy, has demonstrated the most remarkable strength, loyalty, insight, patience, and care. I can’t begin to compensate her for all she’s done for me, taught me, and shared with me. All I can say is that without her I couldn’t have created a page of this.

Copyright © 2009 by Shawn Levy

All rights reserved. Published in the United States by Harmony Books, an imprint of the Crown Publishing Group, a division of Random House, Inc., New York.
www.crownpublishing.com

H
ARMONY
B
OOKS
is a registered trademark and the Harmony Books colophon is a trademark of Random House, Inc.

Title page photo credit: © Bettmann/Corbis Part title photo credits: Parts One and Three are courtesy of Photofest; Part Two is courtesy of Special Collections, Cleveland State University Library; Parts Four, Five, and Six are from the author’s collection.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Levy, Shawn.

Paul Newman: a life/Shawn Levy.

p. cm.

1. Newman, Paul, 1925–2008. 2. Motion picture actors and actresses—United States—Biography. I. Title.
PN2287.N44L48 2009
791.4302′8092—dc22

[B]     2009011220

eISBN: 978-0-307-46253-4

v3.0