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…
Whether in John Cassavetes' seminal work or some modest TV movie, to watch her is to crash and ascend at the same time. It's revelation and vivisection made one, chaos and discipline, the visceral and the beyond expressed through gesture, voice, through living for a gaze to which one cannot lie. She could touch her audience like few ever did, and it's hard to imagine anyone being indifferent to what Rowlands brought to the silver screen. Hate or love her, the actress' very presence in front of the camera demands a reaction, like an antidote to passive watching in all its forms. She walks into a scene and you feel a zap of electricity.
In the coming days, multiple Team Experience members will pay tribute to Gena Rowlands. There is no strict model to these honors, for they come inspired by a surge of grief and the rush of heartbreak that has befallen us. For now, I leave you with a few assorted statements.
FAERIE TALE THEATRE: RAPUNZEL (1983) Gilbert Cates
From Mark Brinkerhoff:
Gena Rowlands, a life—and career—lived decidedly well as it was blessedly long. She made an immediate, lasting impression on me at a very young age (via Faerie Tale Theatre, as the Witch in Rapunzel) but, of course, only enriched my appreciation of great acting through seminal performances in A Woman Under the Influence (1974) and Opening Night (1977). What a generational talent! I'm just sad her obits couldn't lead with "Oscar-winner Gena Rowlands…"
GLORIA (1980) John Cassavetes
From Juan Carlos Ojano:
After watching A Woman Under the Influence for the first time, all I was able to write was "Gena Rowlands in [this] is THE pinnacle of (film) acting". After hearing the news of her passing, I put the film again on right away... and I still stand by that. Between this and Gloria, she has shown the vast expanse of the possibilities of what acting could do. The voice, body language, gestures, facial expressions, all of it. And the vulnerable humanity that she is able to mine from the rawness and honesty that she puts on the screen. She reminds us that acting isn't just an artistic exercise, but more importantly, an empathetic human experience. She's a miracle incarnate. I can't wait to live the rest of my life as I dig into more of her work, especially as an aspiring actor myself. We are lucky to have her brilliance be captured on film to learn from, relish, and celebrate for the rest of film history.
ANOTHER WOMAN (1988) Woody Allen
From Nick Taylor:
I am not sure when I first heard of Gena Rowlands, or which of her films I watched first. My introduction to her was some combination of A Woman Under the Influence, Opening Night, and Another Woman, all in the span of a few months, and that crash course painted a profoundly clear portrait of her talents to someone who'd barely started thinking critically about what good acting is or how it looks in tones as different as what Cassavetes and Allen ask of her in those projects. Getting better acquainted with her in her other films with her husband, hanging with Peter Falk on Columbo, and the late-career popcorn fun of Skeleton Key, all of it has made me even more appreciative of her. The base level talent, the individual achievements, it's all honest and painful and miraculous to witness.
The other thing that stands out most to me about Rowlands is how clearly she changed what screen acting could be. There's such a profound ancestry with Bette Davis and Kim Stanley, for one, but look at how many artists model her as an inspiration, either in specific performances or throughout their careers. Sure, any film embracing Cassavetes-style realism and improv almost automatically means we're gonna see someone try and achieve her inimitable synthesis of operatic intensity scaled to human-level gestures and insights. But how about performances as different as Tilda Swinton in Julia, Cate Blanchett in Tár and Blue Jasmine, Carrie Coon in The Nest, Robert Pattinson in Good Time . . . . I could do this literally all day. She's an icon. What would we have been without her?
But, of course, the mourning doesn't stop at film critics and cinephiles. Here's a sampling of reactions from Rowlands' acting colleagues.
From Martha Plimpton comes a paean to a favorite actress and astonishing woman:
;)
From Josh Brolin, a tribute to one who inspired him:
;)
From Molly Ringwald, a love letter to her first movie mom:
;)
From Susan Sarandon, a reminiscence about Tempest:
;)
From Michelle Pfeiffer, a goodbye to the GOAT:
;)
What about you, dear reader? What does Gena Rowlands mean to you? And can you remember how you first encountered her on-screen?