Marlon Brando
One of my all-time favorite words is "honesty." And we must all agree that is one word being bandied about quite a lot lately, though not always in the most particular of ways.
But when it comes to the truth, both onscreen and off, all roads actually lead to Marlon Brando, that most deceptively sly of men ¡AND thespian¡ who passed away in Los Angeles on Thursday at the age of 80.
He lived a rich, full, and you bet, honest life. Now, to look back on his career in brief would be but an exercise in drifting across the obvious, so let me assume we already are more than well aware of the string of motion pictures, both classic and not-so, through which Mr. Brando brought not only his ever-increasing presence, but studied sense of straight-down-to-the-Earth drama. Why, during even a comparative bit part such as that of the much larger than life Colonel Kurtz in Coppola's "Apocalypse Now," he could transform a mere walk-on to that of an absolute scene-stealer (not to mention utterly riveting analogy for the entire realm of military quagmire in general). And then there was his deliciously pan-sexual tour-de-farce in 1973s "Last Tango In Paris," which, among several other things, made an indelible impression on curiously hormone-driven teens the world over (as I personally can attest!)
Yet, I prefer to remember Marlon Brando not for any of the above, nor even for "A Streetcar Named Desire" or that most presciently rock 'n' roll of roles in "The Wild One." No, truth be honestly told, I find myself ¡ today especially ¡ rewinding in my mind's eye the man's 1,994 appearance on none other than "Larry King Live."
Ostensibly opening his home for the CNN cameras to promote his typically baffling Random House autobiography "Songs My Mother Taught Me," it indeed took but a few minutes for Brando to tip the entire proceedings happily upon their edge, feeding organic cookies into his hapless host's mouth whilst planting both of his gigantic bare feet right there on the tabletop, not inches from the bewildered eyes of countless millions of unsuspecting television viewers around the globe.
Oh yes! And he also commanded his dog to leap straight into Larry's lap at one strategic point, before eventually fading out altogether on a rousing chorus of riotously ad-libbed King/Brando show-tunes.
Now THAT's Entertainment! Not to mention honesty. Something we're all just a bit short on these days, I'd say, especially now that one of the most alarmingly honest human beings you or I will ever encounter has retired to that great big talk show set in the sky.
Farewell, sir. You were an original. You will be missed.