John Wayne built a great career in films by portraying the strong, unpretentious hero who faced danger unflinchingly, matching a homespun philosophy with tried virtues, the quintessential man’s man. His success against the bad guys probably reassured his fans that all would be well in the end. Personally I admire the actor who seems to immerse himself so completely in his role that we fail to recognise him. A friend of mine, J. T. Walsh, made something of a name for himself on stage and on screen, and he had this self-effacing talent. He was an American who was educated in Ireland, and it was during that time I came to know him.
We think of Film Stars as celebrities obsessed with attracting attention, but Walsh made the impression of being a quiet and unpretentious person. The first part of his professional career was on the American stage where he was the sort of solid, reliable performer who did not rely on his appearance to get ahead. He was forty when he entered films and quickly established himself as one of the finest character actors in the business. While he appeared in over fifty films I missed most of his appearances, sometimes because I did not know he was appearing in that film, and sometimes, even when I saw him, I did not recognise him. It was when he played a particularly unpleasant top sergeant in Good Morning, Vietnam, and then, only after I saw his name among the credits, that I finally recognised his capacity to efface himself while bringing a character to life on screen. In fact he was extraordinarily adept at playing understatedly nasty types.
Most poignantly, I was aware of his skill when viewing his final film, Breakdown. He had died of a heart attack in 1998 at the age of fifty-four before that film was released. In Breakdown he played a conman who arranges that a car will break down so that as a ‘helpful stranger’ he can come to their assistance and later rob them. In the ‘helpful’ side of his role he was his own kind self, but in the malevolent side he was someone quite different.
The man Saul who persecuted Christians lost himself in St. Paul, so much so that he could even advise his converts ‘to be imitators of him as he was of Christ’. For him that was what it meant to be a Christian, an imitator of Christ. Like J. T. Walsh he identified completely with his role, but in his case it was with Christ, and it was not for the length of a film but for life. He could say with all sincerity, ‘for me to live is Christ’ (Phil.1:21).
John Looby, S.J.
Editor