Jon Voight’s Thespian Skills Lift Him Above Lunatic Politics

By ROB PATTERSON

It’s certainly been interesting to meet many stars and celebrities over my nearly half a century as an entertainment journalist. Especially when my enjoyable experience with them rubs up uncomfortably with our vastly different beliefs and politics.

This contrast is greatest with Jon Voight. His almost paranoid far-right-wing bloviating is so intense and out on the lunatic fringe that it raises doubts about his grasp of reason and reality. At the time I write this, his once highly-estranged daughter Angelina Jolie has ended their rapprochement by cutting off communication with him. His talk of indoctrination and conspiracies and fealty to the madman Trump, and of late, support of Israel’s vicious Palestinian policies, offer ample reason to thoroughly dismiss the man.

But in some ways I simply cannot do that.

First, there’s the Jon Voight I met in the early 1980s and interviewed for a feature profile for United Feature Syndicate. I no longer have the recording, but our hour together is etched into my memory. As he opened the door to his suite at the Sherry Netherland Hotel on Manhattan’s Fifth Avenue, he was welcoming and warm, engaging me in a deep and satisfyingly intense way that goes above and beyond any of the many hundreds of talks I’ve had with actors and musical stars.

Our talk about whatever eminently forgettable film he was supposed to be touting was quickly touched on and tossed aside as we began an hour of passionate discourse on topics that mattered to us deeply. At the time he was reading the Niko Kazantzakis novel “The Last Temptation of Christ,” and insisted that I read it. It took me a few years, but I made sure that I did so because of him. And am grateful for that. I left our interview vibrantly energized and inspired, feeling a bit of a natural high from how fervently we connected.

I am not alone in my good feeling about the man. My friend Bob Hill, brother of pioneering female film producer and screenwriter Debra Hill, would run into her neighbor Voight when taking his sister’s dog for a walk. Like me, he found him indelibly warm, engaging and irresistibly likable.

The other reason I can’t fully write off Voight is the sheer magnitude of his thespian talents. Films like “Midnight Cowboy” and the Vietnam War protest tale “Coming Home” – yes, Voight once leaned left – are enough citation alone to underscore his greatness (he won a Best Actor Oscar for his work in the latter). But his acting is a gift that has richly blossomed and deepened over time into a stunningly delectable vintage dramatic wine.

The biggest reason why I kept watching the series “Ray Donovan” after it jumped the shark by moving to New York was to marvel and even swoon at his magnificent performance as bent family patriarch Mickey Donovan. Voight so fully inhabited the character with life, personality and a pulsing blood flow that when he was in a scene it crackled with magic. It felt like every cell of his being was not just inhabited but possessed by the role. His delivery of every line, expressions, gestures, posture and manner of walking all simmered with the soul of the character. I came away from watching him in the series convinced that Voight’s skills soar to the most celestial levels of acting artistry.

Yet his politics make me want to vomit. Almost invariably, my personal distaste for the foul character and beliefs with creatives tend to sour me on their art. But not with Voight. Yeah, one can insist on separating the person from the art. I usually can’t do that. But Voight’s thespian skills are so stunning and brilliant I simply cannot deny them.

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Rob Patterson is a music and entertainment writer in Austin, Texas. Email robpatterson054@gmail.com.

From The Progressive Populist, November 1, 2024


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