With Henry Fonda, in The Return of Frank James, Fritz Lang, 1940.
I got a friendly e‑mail this morning from a reader wondering why I hadn’t posted anything in response to his passing a few days back. While I sincerely doubt that this was the intended effect, the missive threw me into a paroxysm of anxiety and self-loathing and just plain feeling-of-uselessness, combined with a “what the hell do you want from me?” resentment that’s still, frankly, playing havoc with my day. Still; Cooper is gone. One reason I did not immediately respond to his death possibly has to do with the quality of his screen presence: ready, reliable, full of good humor and an uncloying earnestness. Stuff that’s actually quite rare but that, when embodied by someone such as Cooper…well, he made you believe that his qualities were in fact common. In a sense he flattered us. We take in that good feeling without necessarily taking full account of the individual who gave it to us. In other words, as rare as Jackie Cooper was, he had the gift of making us take him for granted. He had a long and distinguished and incredibly honorable career, both in Hollywood and the U.S. military, and quietly kept his own counsel in his later years, during which he withdrew from show business and its blandishments. Every time we see him in a film, whether it be “Pups Is Pups” or The Champ or Treasure Island or one of the Salkind Superman pictures, it will be as though he never left.
Having just watched THE RETURN OF FRANK JAMES for the first time this week (before Cooper’s death), I was taken with how much I liked Cooper in it. Offhand I don’t think I’ve seen anything with him in a long time, and when I do think of his work the Superman movies immediately spring to mind, as well the Our Gang comedies. Maybe THE CHAMP. I think you’re spot on, though. His everydayness sometimes made him invisible… which is my problem as a viewer, not his as an actor.
Mr. Kenny, if I may be so bold, it may be that you are so well-followed that your omissions are regarded as items. That seems to me to be the simplest truth, and I don’t know if I, myself, would take it as cause for self-loathing, but that’s your choice.
Mr. Cooper is not as well known as, say, Mr. Lancaster, Mr. Bogart, or Mr. Olivier, but he has that Oscar record. If the earliest Academy Awards annals (1927−1934) were crowded with boys who received Best Actor nominations at ages 7–13 I doubt Mr. Cooper’s record would render such a worthy obit. However, besides playing Perry White I would cite his directing career, which exceeds 30 years – hell, I respect anyone’s efforts that exceed 30 years. (I don’t think Bin Laden hated America as long as that; nor Hitler, the Jews.)
But once again – and, repeating the qualification that, hey, I don’t get cc’d on your personal shit – I have to say that I envy any writer who is reprimanded for missing a noteworthy death.
I missed the In Memoriam for Charles Jarrot a few weeks ago with the sexy screencaps of Susan Sarandon in her drenched nightgown from THE OTHER SIDE OF MIDNIGHT.
Having finally seen SKIPPY just two weeks ago (and liking it a lot), Cooper had been on my mind of late. The odd thing about many folks’ experience of his career is that we mostly know him from his childhood and his middle age. Between 1933’s THE BOWERY (when he was about 11) and a 1972 COLUMBO episode (when he was about 50), the only Cooper film I saw was WHITE BANNERS, in which he was about 16. I did catch most of his 1964 TWILIGHT ZONE episode a few weeks ago, but I have no mental image of Cooper in his 20s and 30s. But I love the way that the distinctive pout of his mouth survived till the end. You could always see the shadow of little Jackie there.
Yes, true, days are ended for low quality link. Your post info.I appreciate what Google are doing now. If Google searcher find what they looking for that will make better internet world.
You (and the Siren as well, if I may say so) are not the death-notices page of the local gazette; a memorial may come in a few days or not at all. But someone wanting to read your thoughts is no bad thing, as long as s/he understands it can’t and won’t happen every time.
Anyway, this was beautiful, and probably exactly what your correspondent craved; simple, dignified, and with a reference to an excellent, lesser-known movie absent from most obituaries.
blogs.indiewire.com/leonardmaltin/archives/remembering_jackie_cooper/
Nice tribute from “Our Gang” expert Leonard Maltin here.
Those early-’30s two-reelers were among the first movies that mattered to me (especially “Teacher’s Pet” and “School’s Out”). I’ll miss him.
William Dieterle’s SYNCOPATION has turned up on TCM a few times. It has its virtues, notably Cooper’s young man with the horn. (And Connee Boswell.)