My first meeting with Gena Rowlands

by Cláudio Alves

The dedication at the end of Pedro Almodóvar' ALL ABOUT MY MOTHER (1999).

Yesterday, as The Film Experience's first foray into honoring Gena Rowlands drew to a close, I asked the readers: Can you remember how you first encountered her?

It's an interesting query since the introduction to an artist can set so much of one's relationship with them going forward. Personally, it's a matter of fascination because I remember so well when and where I first met the goddess that Cassavetes immortalized in his films. At least, I know the moment I became aware of Rowlands as someone I should pay attention to and treasure. It wasn't through any of her works, not directly. Instead, this brush with my actressexual fate came at the end of a tomato-red melodrama beset by maternal madness and a Spanish twist. Yes, I discovered Gena Rowlands through the dedication at the end of Pedro Almodóvar's All About My Mother...

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Goodbye, Gena Rowlands (1930-2024)

by Cláudio Alves

Gena Rowlands in OPENING NIGHT (1977) John Cassavetes

Two days ago, cinephiles worldwide were met with some sad news, tragic beyond belief. Gena Rowlands died at the age of 94 after a few years battling with dementia, as her son, Nick Cassavetes, had previously revealed to the public. It's a loss that defies comprehension because Rowlands' talent was just the same, a generational marvel whose importance can't be overstated. Cinema, especially independent American film, is what it is today because of her contribution. The same can be said about the art of screen acting, in general. So much so that even those who don't gel with her mercuriality must contend with Rowlands' place in the annals of history. 

Even as I loathe to use the term 'undeniable,' Rowlands is the exception to the rule. Consider her undeniable influence on countless artists. Consider the undeniable mark she left on those who watched her and felt themselves freefalling into the deepest recesses of the human soul, a chasm you love to get lost within…

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Late But Not Forgotten: Shelley Duvall (1949-2024)

by Cláudio Alves

Shelley Duvall behind the scenes of her last film, THE FOREST HILLS (2023).
First of all, preemptive apologies for the solipsism. 

For the past few weeks, I've been struggling with a mounting number of celebrity deaths, each deserving of a tribute. Yet, with every single one comes the need for research, and then, when I think I'll be able to write a good obituary, another loss hits. For a while, I considered doing a giant post, built from essential information on each dear departed artist. It wouldn't be akin to that extensive Donald Sutherland homage - to give an example - but it'd be something. Still, the work dragged on, the pressure mounted, and the delay was reaching absurd proportion. I can only say sorry, dear reader. 

This past Wednesday, as I celebrated my 30th birthday, such affairs still haunted me. And maybe because I was surrounded by friends, basking in sincere affection, perchance a self-pitying reflection or two on the passage of time and getting older, a new approach materialized. Instead of trying to encapsulate a world-class artist's entire history in a write-up, I shall instead ponder what they mean to me personally. Earnestness is the way to go, and hopefully, you'll share what these people mean to you in the comments, too. These pieces will be relatively brief but heartfelt, and they'll start with a star I loved like few others – the inimitable Shelley Duvall…

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Donald Sutherland (1935-2024)

by Cláudio Alves

THE HUNGER GAMES: CATCHING FIRE (2013) Francis Lawrence

Yesterday, Kiefer Sutherland came to social media with a devastating announcement. His father, who he rightfully described as "one of the most important actors in the history of film," had passed away. Donald Sutherland was 88, and he leaves behind an enviable legacy. His career is the stuff of legend, spanning nearly two hundred screen credits over six decades and many a landmark in American cinema. Moreover, his kindness and political activism earned him admiration as a human being, not just an artist.

Speaking only for myself, Donald Sutherland was one of my favorite thespians of the silver screen, a man of varied talents who could as effortlessly embody fatherly warmth as the darkest impulses within us all. His absence is inconceivable, yet one must contend with it. And what better way to do it than to celebrate his well-lived life? Let's start at the beginning…

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Bernard Hill (1944-2024)

by Cláudio Alves

THE LORD OF THE RINGS: THE RETURN OF THE KING (2003) Peter Jackson

Today, sad news comes from England. Actor Bernard Hill has passed away at the age of 79, comforted by his family to the end. 

Among Oscar obsessives, Hill is best known for his appearances in Titanic and the Lord of the Rings trilogy. For James Cameron, he played the stalwart captain of the doomed ship, while Peter Jackson saw him embody Théoden, King of Rohan. Both roles share a touch of quiet authority, power laced with the deep sorrow of someone responsible for countless other lives. Hill's very presence seemed to project these qualities, making him a dream character actor, able to shape a movie's tonalities with little more than a glance, a shift of posture, a sigh. To this day, he's the only actor to star in two of the Academy's all-time champions, pictures with eleven Oscars each…

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