'This was a man'
By
Lubna Abdel-Aziz
There are a few names that are inseparably and exclusively associated with honour and dignity. Such a name is that of Gregory Peck. His splendid demeanour, his rare and exquisite tenderness, and his unmistakable sense of righteousness has procured his name a special place in the human psyche. Since his first appearance in Days of Glory and Keys of the Kingdom, 1943, the world took notice of this high- mettled knight in shining armour. Before long it would pay homage to this chivalrous youth with the dark dreamy eyes, who could always be trusted to do the right thing. In private life he was no less honourable or high-principled. He was the incarnation of the decent man, untouched by secret, rumour, or scandal; no skeletons in or out of his closet.
As the news of his death was announced, a deep silence fell over Hollywood at the passing of one of its rare citizens, perhaps the last authentic article of pure gold in their otherwise tinsel town. Age had endowed this lanky Irish Catholic lad with a rich silver mane that framed that once boyish face, now covered with the happy folds and wrinkles of a life well lived. Yet his great style, his grace, his easy manner, and his deep penetrating voice that resonated with virtue and wisdom remained unchanged. Resisting tempting offers, he refused to sign long-term contracts with any major studios, appearing in one hit after another, as he wisely and carefully chose his own scripts.
The 1940s were good years for young Gregory. He quickly established himself as the epitome of the perfect movie star, and the perfect gentleman. Fortune smiled on him as he sailed from one success to the next with skilled directors and superb leading ladies. After his touching performance as father Francis Chisolm in Keys of The Kingdom and his noble Paul Scott in The Valley Of Decision with Greer Garson, he starred opposite Ingrid Bergman in Hitchcock's brilliant Psycho-drama Spellbound, 1945, one of the first films to probe into the new strange world of psychiatry and psychoanalysis. As amnesia victim, John Ballantine lives under the illusion that he killed the head of a psychiatry clinic Dr Edwardes. He is nursed back to health by Dr Constance Peterson with the help of her professor, played so convincingly by Michael Chekov (the Russian playwright's nephew) in an Oscar nominated performance. Throughout the film, the viewer was convinced that Ballantine was incapable of any act that was ignoble, or unethical. Every role of Peck's seemed to carry a silent, yet articulate cry for human compassion. Elia Kazan's Gentleman's Agreement, 1947, was a clear definition of the philosophy of the human rights' champion, fighting bigotry and bias, that lurked beneath the cool liberal exterior of American life. Even in feisty roles such as wild and reckless Lewt in King Vidor's Duel In the Sun, 1946, or the brutally bitter captain Ahab in Herman Melville's masterpiece Moby Dick, 1956, there was an underlying justification for his madness. Then there is his unforgettable encounter with the inimitable Audrey Hepburn in William Wyler's Roman Holiday, 1953. A delightful raconteur in true Irish fashion, Peck tells of how he watched her work, and was seduced as was everyone else on the set, by her gamine looks and elfish style. He called the film's PR representative and inquired about billing. His answer was the usual with Peck's name above the title, and at the end of the credits "introducing Audrey Hepburn". "No no no, I want that changed," Peck insisted, "she is to have equal billing otherwise people will think I am the idiot." Hepburn won the Oscar that year as the disguised princess exploring Rome, and Peck was the first to know it. They remained friends until her death in 1993.
Gregory Peck (1916-2003)
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Although nominated five times by the Academy, Peck would not receive his Oscar until 1962 for his portrayal of attorney Atticus Finch in Harper Lee's Pulitzer Prize- winning novel To kill a Mocking Bird directed by Robert Mulligan. A quiet widower, he is appointed to defend a black man played by Brock Peters, falsely accused of raping a white girl in a segregated US southern town of the early 20th century. Atticus is determined to defend a black man despite threats to his family, in a town that is determined not to believe "in the guiltlessness of an accused Negro". Finch explains to his young daughter Scout: "You never know someone until you step inside their skin and walk a little." It seems to be Peck's own cry for equality and justice for all. Brock Peters remained a friend to Gregory Peck and delivered his eulogy at the memorial service held last Monday, led by Cardinal Richard Mahoney at the Cathedral of our Lady of the Angels in Los Angeles.
Alistair McLean's film version of his book The Guns Of Navarone (1961) directed by J Lee Thompson, remains Peck's greatest hit. A man's picture by real men has Peck leading a team of Allied commandos, Anthony Quinn, Anthony Quayle, David Niven, Stanley Baker, and James Darren, on a death-defying mission to destroy the German guns located in a fortress across the Aegean sea. Indeed it is one of the highest grossing pictures in film history.
Peck continued to star in memorable movies through the 1960s and 1970s, and although his input diminished in recent decades, he was always seeking a project or working on one. Peck last appeared in 1993 in Martin Scorsese's remake of Cape Fear in which he made a brief appearance. The original version starring Peck and Robert Mitchum, 1962, was far more gripping and far less gruesome, which proves once again that classics should remain untouched, unless they can be greatly improved upon.
Born Eldred Gregory Peck, 5 April 1916 in La Jolla, California, he hated his first name, and after graduating from UC Berkeley, he moved to New York dropped his first name and pursued a career in theatre. Five years later he triumphantly returned to California as Gregory Peck, one of Hollywood's most promising new stars.
He constructed for himself a shield, avoiding the contamination and corruption rampant in the film capital. Yet he was very much part of the Holywood scene, and one of its most prominent and beloved personalities. He served as president of the Academy of Motion Pictures, and was active in many charities, and civil causes.
It was in Rome, that I met Mr Peck while touring as a teenager. I asked for an autographed picture, and requested that he address it to Auntie Loulou. Mr Peck gave me a scrutinising stare and asked "Don't you mean Little Lulu?" (a famous cartoon character). I explained about my Children's Corner on Cairo Radio. He signed my picture, shook my hand, and wished me luck.
He received many honours from around the world, and days prior to his passing, the American Film Institute named him: "The screen's greatest hero for his role as Atticus Finch in To Kill A Mocking Bird". He portrayed Atticus with an incredible degree of human dignity, which illuminated the depth of a nation's soul and awakened its conscience.
Not only the film world, but indeed the world at large shall miss this unique individual, a simple man of unassumed decency, of undying courage, and unflinching integrity. There came a decent man amongst us once, his name was Gregory Peck. We lean on the wit and wisdom of the Bard to bid adieu to "the noblest Roman of them all" -- as Mark Anthony declared, on mourning the death of Brutus:
His life was gentle, and the elements
So mix'd in him that nature might stand up,
And say to all the world, 'This Was A Man!'
William Shakespeare
