Cliff
Robertson has made more than 60 movies over a span of 50
years. He has won lasting recognition and numerous
awards, including the coveted "Oscar" for his role in
Charly. His filmography is fascinating not only because
it reveals the milestones of an important actor's
on-going career but particularly because he has made a
specialty of difficult roles. His characters are
ofttimes challenging and his interpretation has plumbed
the depths of their emotions. His men struggle with what
it is to be a man, a father, a leader, a pawn.
Over the years, these portrayals have documented
changing attitudes of the 20th and early 21st century.
When being mentally retarded was still a joking matter,
Cliff not only played such a character in the TV
adaptation of “Flowers for Algenon" but also bought the
movie rights so that he could reprise the role of Charly
on the big screen. When seeking psychological help was a
stigma rather than a credential, Cliff took on roles
ranging from a paranoid young man in Autumn Leaves, to
the grief-stricken widower of Obsession, to the true
story of astronaut Buzz Aldrin’s despair, told in Return
to Earth. His heroic roles are many times of compromised
characters, like JW Coop who is just getting out of jail
when the movie starts, or the protagonist of The Pilot
who drinks on the job.

In psychological drama there is usually more than one
character who is intellectually, ethically, or
psychologically damaged. Cliff's choices of roles
reflect on the stories as a whole. Racism, corruption,
the struggle with big business, big money, or big
politics -- all get tackled in their time, as does the
folly of political correctness. The fate of the little
guy, whether it's the African American rodeo rider in JW
Coop or the Latino house painter in Race—all get
encompassed. Actors take scripts that appeal to them,
and characters that they can live with—not just their
own. It is significant also to look at the roles of
women in his movies. From the 1950s to the present,
through women's lib to City Hall, Cliff's women, whether
bright or bitter, are reflected with true empathy in his
various performances.
The plight of the underdog, the depressed, and even the
mentally handicapped have provided his work with a
profound resonance of his time, just as the dare-devil
flyer reflects what this very private "extrovert" cares
to share of his personal life. |