The Voice of God

[thedrifter]

The Voice of God
By Robert Stacy McCain
Published 4/7/2008 12:07:09 AM

Great roles require great actors, and Charlton Heston played the greatest roles of the 20th century, or any century: Buffalo Bill, Andrew Jackson, Thomas Jefferson, Michelangelo, John the Baptist, Marc Antony. Heston even played God.

It was while shooting The Ten Commandments on location at Mount Sinai that Heston, already cast in the starring role of Moses, talked himself into the biggest part of all. He and legendary director Cecil B. DeMille were having dinner with the abbot of St. Catherine's monastery at the base of the mountain.

"I said, 'You know, Mr. DeMille, it seems to me that if you hear the voice of God, you hear it inside yourself. I'd like very much to do the voice of God in the burning bush,'" Heston later recalled. "And he said, 'Well, Chuck, you've got a pretty good part as it is.' But the abbot, fortunately, was intrigued by that. He said, 'I think that's an interesting idea.' So Mr. DeMille said, 'Well, we'll see about that.'"

So it is that in the 1956 classic, when Moses hears the Almighty, he hears his own voice -- disguised by audio effects and speaking the "thy-thou-thine" language of the King James Bible, but still unmistakably Heston.


HESTON'S VOICE WAS his greatest asset as an actor. He was handsome, but so were many other actors. He had the muscular physique required for such sword-and-sandals epics as Ben Hur, but directors never had a shortage of brawny leading men, and neither Steve Reeves nor Johnny Weismuller ever won Oscars. It was his deep, resonant voice that set Heston apart from the Hollywood herd.

Some might think he was born with the voice that delivered great lines like "Let my people go!" However, his majestic vocal quality was actually the product of training as a stage actor -- from the Winnetka (Ill.) Community Theatre to Broadway -- years before he went into movies, where he first worked with DeMille in 1953's The Greatest Show On Earth.

His stage training gave Heston the gravitas necessary to seem believably natural when speaking the almost comically stilted dialogue required by his many historical roles. (Sample line from The Ten Commandments: "What change is there in me? Egyptian or Hebrew, I am still Moses. These are the same hands, the same arms, the same face that was mine a moment ago.")

Even in schlocky sci-fi films, Heston's voice had the power to turn an otherwise absurd phrase -- "Soylent Green is people!" -- into a memorable line. Roddy McDowell was a fine actor, yet no one ever quotes his dialogue from Planet of the Apes. Instead, they remember Heston: "Take your stinking paws off me, you damned dirty ape!" A silly sentence somehow infused with significance, simply because Heston said it.


AFTER HESTON DIED Saturday at age 84, his friend and National Rifle Association colleague Wayne LaPierre praised the former NRA president as "a man who devoted his life to his profession with grace and dignity."

Dignity was the essence of Heston's onscreen appeal. He was barely 30 when DeMille cast him as Moses, but already possessed the mature dignity needed to play the mighty prophet, and Heston was as believable as the gray-bearded Hebrew lawgiver as he was as the young Egyptian prince.

The theme of human dignity runs like a thread through Heston's career, both on and off the screen. Heston was seemingly typecast as the voice who speaks for the dignity of downtrodden mankind, whether enslaved by Egyptians or Romans, oppressed by apes, or euthanized and ground up for food in Soylent Green.

His consistent concern for human dignity helps explain why Heston, a liberal Democrat in younger years, eventually emerged as one of conservatism's most visible spokesmen. A prominent supporter of Martin Luther King Jr.'s civil rights crusade who joined King for the 1963 March on Washington, a year later Heston joined his Hollywood friend Ronald Reagan in supporting Republican Sen. Barry Goldwater's presidential bid. (As Heston later said, he decided to support Goldwater after seeing a sign with the Arizona senator's slogan, "In your heart, you know he's right," and being struck with the thought, "Son of a *****, he is right.") Like Reagan, Heston became an ex-liberal not because he changed, but because liberalism changed.

Heston's principled consistency was evident in his 1999 speech at Harvard Law School, where he urged students to engage in "massive disobedience" against political correctness. "I learned the awesome power of disobedience from Dr. King ... who learned it from Gandhi, and Thoreau, and Jesus, and every other great man who led those in the right against those with the might," Heston said. "Disobedience is in our DNA."

Heston knew his voice could have a powerful effect. He famously shocked Time-Warner board members when he showed up for a stockholders meeting in Beverly Hills and read aloud the violent, vulgar lyrics of gangsta rapper Ice-T, whose records the company had released.

The lyrics included the rapper's fantasies about sodomizing Al Gore's nieces, and as Heston said, his performance "left the room in echoing silence." Heston had spoken. Ice-T's contract was soon terminated. (Informed later that the rapper had threatened to kill him, Heston replied, "Let him try.")


HESTON'S VOICE WAS as impressive when speaking spontaneously as when reading from a script. At a dinner in the early 1990s hosted by The American Spectator -- Heston was a supporter of the magazine for many years -- the actor stood up and gave a ten-minute impromptu speech on the great issues of the day. He spoke with "great moral urgency and utter eloquence," remembered editorial director Wlady Pleszczynski.

Heston's moral urgency was seldom greater than when speaking in defense of the Second Amendment. The NRA added millions of new members during Heston's tenure as president, and he brought them to their feet to applaud what became one of his most famous lines.

It was just an old bumper-sticker slogan, familiar to everyone in the gun-rights movement, but somehow it had a magic effect when Heston said it. Standing at the lectern, he held a musket over his head and, in his famous rumbling baritone, Heston declared that if anyone wanted to take his guns, his answer could be summed up in five words: "From my cold, dead hands."

His hands are cold now. His voice is silent. He will be missed. Requiescat in pace.

Ellie

[thedrifter]

Charlton Heston Made History
by Doug Patton (more by this author)
Posted 04/08/2008 ET


“Some people make headlines while others make history.” -- Philip Elmer-DeWitt
American Writer and Editor

There are few of the old stars left in Hollywood, men who loved their country enough to show her the respect, service and loyalty she deserves. Charlton Heston was one of those stars.

Heston joined the military during World War II. After his discharge from the U.S. Army Air Corps, he went on to become one of the most famous actors of his generation.

Hollywood director Cecil B. DeMille is said to have been struck by the muscular, 6-foot-3-inch Heston’s likeness to Michelangelo’s famous statue of Moses. Heston’s portrayal of the Old Testament prophet in DeMille’s 1956 biblical epic, “The Ten Commandments,” etched his image upon the American consciousness.

A few years later, Heston starred in “Ben-Hur,” a movie that stood for a generation as the most honored film in Hollywood history, receiving eleven Academy Awards, including best picture and best actor (Heston).

Both these movies dealt with great themes that stirred moviegoers to consider the nobility of their spiritual legacy. These two films stand as a testament, not only to the contribution of a great actor in a golden age of filmmaking, but also to the willingness of Hollywood to inspire us and to reinforce our faith, rather than degrade us and make us ashamed of our Judeo-Christian heritage, as does so much of today’s Hollywood fare.

Charlton Heston remains the enduring face of both these films, as well as many others, such as “The Agony and the Ecstasy,” a 1965 telling of the story of Michelangelo painting the Sistine Chapel ceiling for Pope Julius II.

But Heston was much more than just a handsome face or even a great actor. He was an activist. Long before he became known for his passionate leadership of the National Rifle Association, and long before it was fashionable in Hollywood, he joined the cause of desegregation. When an Oklahoma movie theater refused to allow blacks to attend the premier his 1961 film, “El Cid,” Heston joined the picket line outside the theater. Heston also accompanied the Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr., at the 1963 Washington, D.C., civil rights march.

Back in 1960, Heston had been a supporter of John F. Kennedy for president; but by 1980, he had switched his party affiliation from Democrat to Republican and became an ardent supporter of his old Hollywood friend, Ronald Reagan. A consistent foe of racial discrimination, Heston spoke out against affirmative action. He even resigned from the Actors Equity Association because of the union’s refusal to allow a white actor to play a Eurasian role in the stage version of “Miss Saigon.” Heston called the action “obscenely racist.”

And in an era when most of Hollywood was refusing to criticize violence and obscenity in “the arts,” Heston rebuked Time Warner at a stockholders meeting for releasing a violent rap album featuring the song “Cop Killer.”

Heston’s five-year tenure as president of the National Rifle Association, from 1998 to 2003, gave the organization visibility it had never had before. Perhaps the most memorable moment of his presidency came at the 2000 NRA convention. The group was strongly opposing the presidential candidacy of then Vice President Al Gore, who favored restrictive gun control. At the convention, Heston was presented with a hand-made Brooks flintlock rifle. To the delight of the crowd, Heston held the weapon over his head and declared, “From my cold, dead hands, Mr. Gore!”

In 2003, diagnosed with Alzheimer ’s disease, Heston stepped down as NRA president. In a stunning example of the lack of class displayed by today’s Hollywood nitwits, actor George Clooney joked about Heston’s affliction, saying that Heston deserved whatever was said about him for his involvement with the NRA. Heston, always the gentleman, said he felt sorry for Clooney, since he had as much chance of developing Alzheimer’s as anyone else.

Charlton Heston was a culture warrior. He was unapologetically pro-life, pro-family and pro-American. He once characterized political correctness as “tyranny with manners.”

When this great man died last Saturday with his beloved wife of 64 years at his side, he was 84 years old.

Thank you, Charlton Heston, for making history, not just headlines. May you rest in peace.

Ellie

[thedrifter]

Charlton Heston, Hollywood Rebel
by Mac Johnson (more by this author)
Posted 04/08/2008 ET



Charlton Heston has died. I did not know him; and so I will not endeavor to write an obituary of the private man, other than to acknowledge that those who knew him personally will feel his loss greatest. My sympathy is offered to them during the painful transition that always follows a death.

No, the obituary I want to write is that for the public man, who (in the strange but real way that is inherent in being a modern celebrity) became a part of the lives of millions who never met him.

There are actors who are chameleons, who blend so seamlessly into the role they play that you cannot even recognize them at first, and this is a wonderful talent. There are also actors who bring a powerful continuity to their roles, inserting key elements of their own personality into each character in a way that, paradoxically, increases the authenticity of the role. This too is a wonderful talent, and Charlton Heston was most definitely of this latter school of acting.

Any movie he appeared in became a “Charlton Heston movie.” He had a presence and a confidence that overwhelmed circumstances. Who else could offer up a powerful, moving and memorable performance in a movie in which he battled men riding horses in really bad monkey suits? That’s talent. And his same core-character was just as believable and moving when battling Romans or cowboys or meeting God and Jesus face to face.

Charlton Heston was simply cool. The source of that cool was his obvious confidence. The guy knew who he was. He was Charlton Heston -- even when he was Moses or Ben-Hur or a lost astronaut.

What he did with that confidence in the later years of his life, when most of us would be doing good just to check the mailbox regularly, was one of the most amazing things about him. He took his celebrity and presence and went into the political arena, fighting for the gun rights of millions of Americans who didn’t have his access to media and power. Heston served as president of the National Rifle Association from 1998 to 2003.

Step back and consider what an act of real rebellion this was. It wasn’t the plastic rebellion against traditional America that is so common and predictable in Hollywood. He could have had that safe and conformist claim to being a rebel just for the asking. Instead, Mr. Heston stood up and defended what he had been raised to believe in.

Traditional American government is about keeping power distributed in a way that supports freedom and protects against authoritarianism, including paternalistic authoritarianism. Property rights, voting rights, freedom of religion, freedom of speech, and legal rights are all protected by law so as to keep a great deal of real power in the hands of individuals. This is what makes us free, to the extent that we still are.

Charlton Heston, like the founding fathers that encoded our political culture in the Constitution, understood that the distribution of power has to extend to that most direct and compelling form of power: the power of arms. Free men have a right to legitimate uses of violence -- and they have a right to the means to commit violence when necessary.

Think of the confidence it took for Heston to withstand the pressure of his peers later in life. When he stood up on a national stage as a celebrity, he could have urged us to save the whales or the ozone or Tibet or some other well-worn and unquestioned leftist cliché. Instead, he lifted a patriot’s muzzleloader above his head and declared as a free man, with all the world watching, that government could take his gun only when they pried it “from my cold dead hands.”

In Hollywood, it’s not rebellion to get stoned and drive your car into a pole anymore. It’s not rebellion to trash your own culture or bemoan the constraints of tradition. It’s rebellion to not do these things. When Heston stood up on that stage that day, he was a true rebel. James Dean could have taken notes.

Even after his death, his powerful hands continue to grasp defiantly, through the rich legacy he has left us all.

Charlton Heston was 84.

Ellie

[thedrifter]

Charlton Heston: Manly, Commanding and Irony-Free
By JOE MORGENSTERN
April 8, 2008; Page D8

If you call up the specifics of Charlton Heston's career on the Internet Movie Database, you'll find 126 entries under the category of "Actor." Those feature films and TV shows define, by their very number as well as their variety, the notion of a working actor. Heston was more than that, of course. He became a Hollywood star in the most classic sense of the term, though, by all accounts, he retained a working actor's courtesy and respect for his craft. Scroll down on his IMDb page and you'll find another striking statistic: 153 entries under the category of "Self" -- personal appearances over almost six decades as talk-show guest, host, mystery guest, honoree and the like. He always played a version of himself in the way that movie stars do -- his Self being manly, commanding, irony-free (at least in his roles) and always solid, if sometimes bordering on stolid. Yet he managed to lend that Self to a remarkable mix of memorable films.

My most recent encounter with one of them came in the course of reviewing last year's "I Am Legend," an apocalyptic thriller adapted from the same sci-fi novel as Heston's 1971 "The Omega Man." In the latest iteration, the hero, who has reason to think he's the last man on Earth, is played by Will Smith, a movie star very much in the modern, self-ironic mode. Mr. Smith provides, as stars do, the human center for a production that's full of elaborate special effects. It was all the more fascinating, then, to go back to the comparatively modest apocalypse of "The Omega Man" and see Charlton Heston facing down, stern-faced and single-handed, the chaos of a failed society.

What he did in that film may not have constituted great acting, but he created a great presence, a one-man surrogate for the beleaguered forces of civilization. (It's also fascinating, in the context of the conservative politics he came to embrace, to note the complexity and generosity of the scene in which his character, Robert Neville, watches the film "Woodstock" in an empty theater. Neville not only mouths but embraces, with touching fondness, the words of a hippie who says, "If you have to be afraid to smile at someone, if you have to be afraid to walk down the street, what kind of world is that?")

Heston's most formidable portrait of a beleaguered American -- the polar opposite of "The Ugly American" -- was the astronaut, George Taylor, who finds himself on a planet in the future that's run by apes. I first saw "Planet of the Apes" at the old 20th Century-Fox screening room on West 56th Street in New York, where I sat in a state of happy astonishment as the now-classic sci-fi fable played out.

But I sat quietly. Down in front, maybe in the very first row, Pauline Kael watched, her chin in her hands, and kept chortling loudly with delight. A week later, in The New Yorker, she published the definitive review of that movie, and the definitive description of Heston's special essence. "With his perfect, lean-hipped, powerful body," she wrote, "Heston is a godlike hero; built for strength, he's an archetype of what makes Americans win. He doesn't play a nice guy; he's harsh and hostile, self-centered and hot-tempered. Yet we don't hate him because he's so magnetically strong; he represents American power -- and he has the profile of an eagle."

Power, yes, though not only American; close your eyes, think of Charlton Heston, and you're likely to see him as the prophet Moses -- talk about commanding! -- in Cecil B. DeMille's 1956 biblical epic "The Ten Commandments." ("I can part the Red Sea, but I can't part with you, which is why I'm not excluding you from this stage of my life," he said movingly in a 2002 taped announcement after being diagnosed with the symptoms of Alzheimer's disease.) Or as the title character in "Ben-Hur," whipping those white horses through one of the greatest action sequences in movie history.

He won an Oscar for that performance, but it's reductive to remember him only as a pillar of strength in old-fashioned epics. He made some uncommonly interesting movies, and he made them work with the resonance of his voice -- a baritone whose richness was matched among Hollywood stars only by Gregory Peck's -- and the reliable power of his presence: as Vargas, the Mexican cop caught up in the nightmare world of Orson Welles's 1958 classic "Touch of Evil"; as the obsessive cavalry officer in Sam Peckinpah's failed but nonetheless intriguing "Major Dundee"; and, inevitably, if not deliciously, as the detective who, in "Soylent Green," discovers that there are things worse than a dog-eat-dog world. Charlton Heston rose to the top of a dog-eat-dog industry by the simple, honorable expedient of being, and remaining, his own man.

Mr. Morgenstern is the Journal's film critic.

Write to Joe Morgenstern at joe.morgenstern@wsj.com

Ellie