Paul Newman @ 100: "The Sting"
Saturday, January 25, 2025 at 10:00AM by Lynn Lee
No doubt about it, Paul Newman was at peak stardom when he signed on to The Sting. But he needed a hit: he hadn’t had one since Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, and his intervening films had all underperformed. Fortuitously, he was about to enjoy the biggest blockbuster of his career in the form of a Butch Cassidy reunion with co-star Robert Redford and director George Roy Hill...
It’s no wonder the two films are so closely intertwined in our cultural consciousness, particularly with respect to the Newman-Redford pairing. And yet one of the dirty little not-so-secrets of The Sting is that notwithstanding Newman’s top billing, he’s really a supporting character. Redford is the clear protagonist, seeking to learn the big con and exact revenge for his dead partner. Robert Shaw (who also received lead billing, just behind Newman and Redford) is the formidable antagonist. Newman, on the other hand, is the hero’s new mentor and orchestrator of the big con. As such, save for one glorious sequence – the poker game, which I’ll get to in a moment – he’s more often the man behind the scenes than the star of them. And yet, so potent is his charisma and his chemistry with Redford, he’s also the core of what makes The Sting so much fun.
That’s not to discount Redford or Shaw, or for that matter the rest of the movie’s excellent ensemble or the intricately patterned script, direction, and production and sound design. The Sting is a wonderfully layered study in artifice, a cinematic magic show where very little of what you see and hear – even within the world of the story – turns out to be “real,” yet it’s all so seamlessly constructed you marvel every time at its power to convince. It may be the best movie-as-metaphor-for-moviemaking there is. It’s certainly one of the most entertaining.
And no one gets that “it’s a show, folks” aspect better than Newman as its de facto MC, Henry Gondorff. His first appearance, almost 30 minutes into the film, is as unprepossessing as anyone who looks like Paul Newman could pull off: sleeping off a bender with his beautiful nose squished against the wall. But once roused and lucid, he’s quick to size up the situation and the mettle of Redford’s callow but game Johnny Hooker. (N.B: it may be heresy to say so, but I maintain Redford, then in his mid-30s, was a bit miscast as Hooker, who was originally meant to be much younger and is written as immature and impulsive in a way that doesn’t quite mesh with Redford’s sober, controlled demeanor.) Before we know it, Gondorff’s gotten the nose-tap gang back together, and it’s time for his big moment: a high-stakes poker game with the mark, crime boss Doyle Lonnegan (Shaw).
This is easily my favorite scene in a movie that’s full of great ones. I love everything about it, from the claustrophobic feel of the tiny cabin to the sound of the creaking chairs, clacking chips, and fainter clacking of the train wheels and occasional steam whistles in the background, to Shaw’s gimlet-eyed stare and the priceless expressions of Lonnegan’s henchman in the back (Charles Dierkop, looking like he stepped right out of a Dick Tracy strip). But most of all I love Newman’s deliciously hammy turn as the boorish bookie who barges into the game and immediately lodges himself under Lonnegan’s skin. There are signs going in that Henry’s a tad rusty and maybe even nervous – a botched practice card shuffle with Hooker, the deep breath he takes before entering the room. You wouldn’t know it, though, from the moment he swings the door open and slouches in, bottle of watered-down gin in hand, loudly proclaiming “Sorry, I’m late, guys, I was taking a crap.”
It’s a comically broad (or broadly comical?) performance, but don’t be fooled: it’s also precisely calibrated and laser-focused on an audience of one. Lonnegan is quiet, outwardly polished and respectable, a man who probably fancies himself a gentleman and certainly only plays with gentleman. The fact that Gondorff is so openly trolling him by playing – indeed, overplaying – every possible note antithetical to his concept of gentlemanliness is a feature, not a bug, of the strategy. Lonnegan is someone you don’t mess with, so naturally the best way to throw him off balance is to mess with him and affect complete obliviousness to his displeasure. Which is exactly what Henry does to perfection, whether it’s repeatedly getting Lonnegan’s name wrong, borrowing a tie and wiping his nose with it, or making rude remarks about the other players, before taking his mark to the cleaners. If Lonnegan weren’t already so incensed by Gondorff’s warm-up antics, he might have smelled something fishy about how this drunk clown could so handily best him at his own game. As it is, it’s a joy to watch Newman gleefully prodding and playing off Shaw’s increasingly stony demeanor, rarely losing that million dollar smile through all his affected slovenliness, and the triumphant gleam in those blue peepers as he lays down the winning (cheating) hand.
Following that epic takedown, the film shifts focus back to Redford’s Hooker, with a couple of glimpses of Gondorff mainly playing his fake bookie role and showing concern for Hooker’s safety and mental state. And, of course, the final “sting” and climax, which I won’t spoil for those who haven’t seen the film (N.B. 2: you really should, it’s only been 50 years!). Somehow you don’t really notice Newman’s sparser presence, in part because of the script’s carefully placed reminders that he is running the show and has anticipated basically everything, in part because he made such a strong impression in the first half of the movie. But it may have something to do with why Redford got an Oscar nod for Best Actor and Newman did not, even as the film racked up 10 nominations, going on to win seven. Simply put, there was no way the first-billed Newman was ever going to be submitted for Supporting Actor, even though he would likely have been a strong contender. (Shaw was in a similar boat due to his insistence on above-title billing.)
Still, in the long run I think it was better for Newman’s legacy that he was never considered supporting. To this day, everyone thinks of The Sting as part 2 of the Newman-Redford show, the happier sequel to Butch Cassidy, featuring both stars at their very brightest. In truth, the movie itself was an apropos reflection of where the two actors stood at the time: the older star showing the younger how it’s done and that he’s still got it – not passing the torch, but sharing it. Now, looking back half a century later, it doesn’t matter if Newman’s character wasn’t a lead; he was, just by virtue of his star power and presence. He still had it, and would have it for many years to come.
Paul Newman Centennial Tribute:
Reader Comments (3)
Nice write up Lee.
Can't say I agree,it's one of those films I watched once was entertained but had no desire to go back and revisit unlike Butch and Sundance.
What was the Academy's beef with Robert Shaw in the 70's,three sublime suporting roles in 72's Young Winston,73's The Sting and especially Jaws in 75 and no win let alone a nomination
I mean today those 3 roles English Prime MIinister,Villian in a huge hit and salty sea dog captain who dies would be catnip for voters
I have no problem with Joel Grey's win in 1972 it's one of the best ever in the category but Housseman in 73 and Burns in 75 are real head scratchers,Quint is also iconic.
I would not have given Newman a nomination or Redford his nod should have gone to Gene Hackman in Scarecrow.
I would've nominated Redford once in his career for acting and that's for his 1969 Sundance
Love love LOVE this movie, especially Newman in it. Definitely time for a rewatch. It feels like Zemeckis and (especially) Soderbergh must have studied it, too.
Top 5 Redford performances:
1. The Candidate
2. Three Days of the Condor
3. All the President's Men
4. The Sting
5. (tie) Butch Cassidy & The Sundance Kid / The Way We Were
It's amazingly rewatchable. You're better able to appreciate the setup and how carefully it's all constructed.
Mr Ripley79: Totally agree with you on Shaw.
Frank Zappa: I really see Soderbergh's Ocean's 11 as the spiritual grandkid of The Sting.