Amid the recent roiling seas of public murder and on-purpose mayhem came the news that film star Robert Redford had died at 89. As one among millions who enjoyed his movies — whether acting or directing — I have always been especially struck by Redford’s persona … his off-screen character.

Or, more to the point, struck by the contrast between his persona and what we see too much these days on multiple screens.

A caution: Drawing conclusions about actors can be tricky. Their storytelling universe depends on make believe. That reality, however, should neither diminish the message of their films nor paint thespians and the stories they tell with a broad brush, regardless of genre.

Still, exploring Redford’s life, what he valued and with whom he surrounded himself, reveals a fairly clear picture. Of particular interest were the observations of those closest to him both inside and outside the movie business.

What emerged off the screen, without the patina and greasepaint of such legendary characters as Roy Hobbs and Butch Cassidy, the notoriety of Bob Woodward or his many other memorable roles in a lengthy career, was an intelligent, passionate, unassuming and polite grownup.

So the news that he had passed gave me pause for more than the loss of a gifted artist with a long and distinguished body of work. We coulduse more examples of his quiet, powerful persona. In a field where success is often measured by the size and duration of the spotlight, he seemed to neither seek nor relish its glow, which is antithetical to a world where likes, retweets and influencers are commodities by which we calculate importance.   

That said, Redford was no modern Marlboro Man or a fence-riding desperado avoiding the public. He was, after all, an actor, whose work is consumed by the public — making him a public figure. Yet, when he could afford to leave the concrete and cacophony of Hollywood, he made Utah his home, far from the freeways and frenzy of his native Southern California.

Nor was he reclusive … or silent. Instead, in addition to his professional life and his establishing of the Sundance Institute for independent filmmakers, Redford chose social activism, especially environmental causes, issues facing Indigenous people and the plight of the LGBTQ+ community.

Redford led successful campaigns against a power plant in Utah and a six-lane highway that would have spoiled a canyon area near his home. He lobbied Congress to pass the Clean Air Act and the Clean Water Act. At the time of his death, he had been a trustee of the Natural Resources Defense Council for over 50 years.

The upheaval and angst of the last couple weeks are at once disheartening and instructive. We watched as screaming, yelling and blaming have continued apace about everything from secret files to murderous motives to unhinged hatred. We learned that constitutionally protected speech apparently ends before late-night television begins.

Many have gasped when experts — you remember experts, those in a particular field with advanced educations, considerable experience and the respect of their peers — reported that public health decisions were being based on poor science or worse, none. We stared in disbelief as some leaders argued for  governmental stamps of approval on thought and speech.

The result is undeniable. Many of the world’s rounded corners have become sharp, unforgiving to those who bump against them. As we approach 250 years as a nation, nearly six in ten Americans hold pessimistic views of the future, according to data from the Pew Research Center.

When a general unease about tomorrow is afoot, you can never have too many real adults in the room. Redford’s passing means one fewer.

He once said, “… in keeping diversity alive, it will help keep our industry alive. To be able to be part of a freedom of expression that allows us as artists to tell our stories in our own way about the human condition, the complexities of life, the world around us, is a gift, and not one to be taken lightly.”

He spoke those words in 2002, when the Academy of Motion Pictures Arts and Sciences awarded him an Honorary Oscar for prompting and supporting independent filmmaking. Their metaphorical underpinning, however, defies today’s frightening move away from diversified thought and expression and toward some monolithic political viewpoint.

Robert Redford was a movie star. Perhaps his brightest light, however, illuminated and embraced his defense of art, the environment and the freedom to express one’s self and — especially — his character in doing so.

This story was published by Nebraska Examiner, an editorially independent newsroom providing a hard-hitting, daily flow of news. Read the original article: https://nebraskaexaminer.com/2025/09/22/lessons-from-an-off-screen-chara...

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