It’s a curious thing, how some performances seem to arrive fully formed, demanding your attention not through histrionics, but through a kind of lived-in authenticity. Watching Paul Newman disappear into the swaggering, folksy, yet deeply complicated Louisiana Governor Earl K. Long in Blaze (1989) feels like witnessing precisely that kind of alchemy. Here was a screen legend, decades into an unparalleled career, tackling a role far removed from the cool anti-heroes that defined his earlier image, and doing so with a gusto that felt both surprising and utterly captivating. It makes you ponder: what drives an actor already at the summit to take such a fascinating detour?
Southern Discomfort and Unexpected Sparks
Set against the humid, politically charged backdrop of late 1950s Louisiana, Blaze recounts the scandalous-for-its-time affair between the powerful, eccentric Governor Long and the eponymous Blaze Starr, a famed burlesque dancer with aspirations beyond the stage lights. Director Ron Shelton, hot off the success of Bull Durham (1988), shifts his focus from the baseball diamond to the equally competitive, often absurd arena of Southern politics. Shelton, who also penned the screenplay adapting Starr's own memoir, brings a similar eye for capturing the nuances of a specific world – its language, its codes, its inherent contradictions. The film doesn't shy away from the performative nature of power, showing Long as a masterful manipulator of crowds, a populist who could charm and connive in equal measure, often within the same breath.
Newman Letting Loose
The absolute anchor of Blaze is Newman. By 1989, he was long past needing to prove anything, yet his portrayal of Earl Long is a masterclass in character immersion. Forget the steely blue eyes (though they're still there); Newman adopts a shuffling gait, a drawling cadence, and a volatile energy that swings between shrewd political operator and unpredictable rogue. There are moments of genuine vulnerability beneath the bluster, particularly as Long grapples with political enemies, bouts of instability (delicately handled by the film), and his undeniable affection for Blaze. It’s reported that Newman dove deep into researching Long, aiming to capture the man's spirit without resorting to mere imitation. It’s a performance that crackles with life, reminding us of Newman’s incredible range even late in his career. He rightly earned a Golden Globe nomination for this transformation, portraying a man both brilliant and buffoonish, a walking paradox.
The Firecracker and the Governor
Holding her own against such a screen titan is Lolita Davidovich in her breakout role as Blaze Starr. Finding the right actress was apparently a significant challenge – names like Debra Winger and Melanie Griffith were floated – but Davidovich proved an inspired choice. She imbues Blaze with a captivating blend of wide-eyed ambition, street-smart savvy, and a core of unexpected tenderness. It would have been easy for Blaze to become a caricature, the stereotypical stripper with a heart of gold, but Davidovich gives her layers. We see her navigating the treacherous waters of Long's world, asserting her own desires, and genuinely falling for the flawed but magnetic governor. Davidovich reportedly spent considerable time with the real Blaze Starr, soaking up her mannerisms and stories, which undoubtedly contributed to the role’s authenticity. Their chemistry feels genuine, an unlikely pairing that somehow makes perfect sense within the film's heightened reality.
Weaving Fact and Feeling
As with many biographical films, Blaze takes liberties, smoothing edges and perhaps romanticizing the central relationship more than historical accounts might warrant. Earl Long was a complex, controversial figure, and the film leans more towards his roguish charm than the potentially darker aspects of his political maneuvering or personal struggles. But Ron Shelton isn't aiming for a dry historical document. He's telling a story about connection, ambition, and defying expectations, set within a specific, richly textured time and place. Filming on location in Louisiana certainly helps; you can almost feel the humidity and the weight of history hanging in the air. Shelton, adapting Blaze Starr's own 1974 memoir (Blaze Starr: My Life as Told to Huey Perry), clearly found resonance in this tale of outsiders finding common ground. The film cost around $19 million to make and earned roughly the same back domestically – perhaps not the smash hit some expected, but a solid entry in the genre of mature, character-driven dramas that the late 80s still offered. The original tagline, "The Governor and the Stripper. The Love Story That Rocked the South," certainly captures the film's central hook.
Worth Tracking Down on Tape?
Blaze might not be the first Paul Newman film that springs to mind, nor perhaps the most famous Ron Shelton movie, but it possesses a unique charm and two powerhouse performances that make it more than worthwhile. It’s a character study wrapped in a political drama, delivered with a distinctly Southern flavour. Seeing Newman fully inhabit such a colourful, contradictory figure is a joy, and Davidovich’s luminous performance announced a significant talent. Does it fully grapple with the complexities of Earl Long's legacy? Perhaps not entirely. But as a story about an improbable, passionate connection between two people navigating a world determined to keep them apart, it resonates. It’s the kind of film that felt substantial renting from the 'New Releases' wall back in the day – a grown-up story with compelling leads and a tangible sense of place.
Rating: 7.5/10
This rating reflects the undeniable strength of the lead performances, particularly Newman's transformative work, and Shelton's confident direction in capturing the specific milieu. While it occasionally sands down the rougher edges of history for narrative flow, the core relationship and the exploration of public versus private lives remain compelling. It stands as a strong example of late 80s adult drama and a showcase for its stars.
What lingers most is the sheer force of personality emanating from the screen – Newman's playful, dangerous energy as Long, and Davidovich's captivating emergence as Blaze. It's a potent reminder of how charisma, both on screen and in life, can be a powerful, unpredictable force.