Elizabeth Taylor

Anyone who knows me, knows that I was raised on classic movies. Turner Classic Movies, to this very day remains a staple in my house. So it's not unusual for me to be familiar with actors like Paul Newman, Montgomery Clift, Gene Kelly,  Spencer Tracy or Cary Grant. Even when I go through my list of favorite actresses, I cite women like Katherine Hepburn, Grace Kelly, Audrey Hepburn, Ingrid Bergman and Joan Crawford. On the very top of that list stands a woman that can only be regarded as the last, great movie actress — Dame Elizabeth Taylor.

There are plenty of news articles today that describe the great life of Dame Elizabeth, so I won't do that here. Instead, I want to talk about what the great Elizabeth means to me as a young person familiar with her films. You see Ms. Taylor came of age during the Golden Age of Hollywood. The best time (and often times worse for actors under the studio system) to be a fan of film. Sequels were rare and originality reigned as king. It was a time when you could lose yourself in a film, where often times realism clashed with idealism.

One of my favorite films of Ms. Taylor's during this time period is "Cat on a Hot Tin Roof". It's based on the Tennessee Williams novel and because of modesty codes during the time, much of Williams' subject matter was skirted around, but Taylor and Newman give a commanding performance. Much of the film takes place in one room (a bedroom), where Taylor's Maggie demands to be loved by her husband. She's both sultry, passionate, eager, desperate, exhausted, sympathetic and pathetic in these attempts. Who today could pull off such a multi-layered performance?



Then there's "Who's Afraid of Virgina Woolf?" A role Ms. Taylor played opposite her then husband Richard Burton. She put on weight just to appear 20 years older for the film. Ms. Taylor captured the audience with her antics as a sad and insane wife. It won her an Oscar.



Even one of her largest (and not so commercially successful at the time) films "Cleopatra" shows the power of Ms. Taylor. It turned her into the highest paid actress ever. Historians say that the real Cleopatra wasn't physically attractive, that her power came from her position. There's no denying the beauty of the violet-eyed Ms. Taylor, but she never alone relied on her looks. Her presence in that film dominates over both Rex Harrison's Julius Caesar and Burton's Marc Anthony. She makes both men appear as puppets to her whim.

I can't name another actress today that resembles both the celebrity and acting magnitude Ms. Taylor embodied. I doubt there will ever be another Elizabeth Taylor.