Of All the Things We’re Infinitely Grateful for About Him, This is the Most Transformative One Department:
He was the first man we’d ever seen cry.
Now that might not seem too all-fired significant in the era when The Duke was the reel epitome of what masculinity was supposed to be, but watching Mr. Newman that Sunday afternoon in the theatre catching up with this film at least five or six years after its original release was a revelation.
The anguish and pain and confusion and regret and imploded integrity, the frustrated affection and the loss of illusion compounded with a blind bravery not to accept any kind of mendacity in his life in any form (from family or lover) were traits we were only beginning to recognize (and encounter as life advanced).
What this performance personified was an artist committing to the only transcendent quality that makes creativity worthwhile: excavating the TRUTH at any and all costs so we can see ourselves for what we are, what we aren’t, what we so often fall woefully short of and what we can ascend to with a wonderful clarity of compassion, empathy and heart.
He showed us that vulnerability is a virtue, that it takes more muscle and strength to be sensitive and handsomely attractive in your essence as opposed to simply strutting around baring buffed-up chests (and daring to make the insulting claim that’s somehow “admiring the male form”).
Occasionally, we kinda regret we passed up the opportunity to go up to him that day adjacent Studio 54. What we wished we could’ve said was simply this:
“Thank you, Mr. Newman : for showing us how honorable it is to be a truly Human Being” …
: for showing us how honorable it is to be a truly Human Being” … 
