Stewart Stern, renowned for shaping midcentury screen narratives, collaborated closely with figures who defined Hollywood’s rugged myth. He contributed to scripts for emblematic films like Revolt Without Rebellion and became a trusted confidant of Paul Newman and Joanne Woodward. Stern assisted in shaping Newman’s screen career in pivotal moments, writing the screenplay for Newman’s debut feature Rachel, Rachel and for Summer Wishes, Winter Dreams, which starred Woodward. By the mid-1980s, the bond between Stern and Newman grew so intimate that Newman proposed a method: to assemble a layered portrait through interviews with the actor’s partner, his first wife, their children, the psychiatrist, friends, and colleagues. From those conversations, a multi-voiced, third-person narrative would emerge, and once the material was organized, Newman would dictate his own version in the first person to Stern. This unconventional approach fed into a highly reflective project on a life lived in public light and private struggle.
It is a singular way of thinking about a life in the glare of fame. Newman stood as a towering figure among the rebellious men of 1950s cinema, alongside James Dean and Marlon Brando, each a touchstone of a generation reshaped by scandal, war, and upheaval. A star who never fully sought the spotlight yet continually challenged the myth surrounding fame, Newman pursued an autobiography that could reveal the man behind the legend. He moved through roles and public scrutiny with a mix of candor and reticence, offering glimpses of a temperament that could be both cool and relentlessly curious. The era’s most iconic gentlemen—cool on the surface, restless within—held a life that defied neat conclusions. He spoke of aging not as a decline but as a facet of the craft, promising to resist conventional aging while acknowledging the pressures that came with being the era’s defining figure. The narrative also hints at his inner conflicts and the sensibilities of a man who could be both intensely private and unexpectedly expansive in his self-scrutiny. A candid thread runs through these reflections on desire, identity, and the ways in which public persona and private longing intersect in the life of an enduring star.
All of this unfolds around a project that seemed almost mythical in scale. Over five years of effort, Stern and Newman wrestled with the sheer volume of material. The process was exhausting, and at times it seemed to stall beneath the weight of memories and testimonies. Frustration grew as the project progressed, and by 1998 the actor withdrew from the material, erasing the tapes that contained the interviews he had helped curate. The pair had to reckon with the fragility of memory, the risk of sensationalism, and the challenge of translating a life into a book that could stand as a serious, credible document. Newman passed away in 2008, followed by Stern in 2015. Woodward endured, carrying forward memories that remained both intimate and contested. A turning point arrived when a relative revisited a family archive in 2019 and uncovered more than 15,000 pages of transcripts from those conversations. The discovery set the stage for a new chapter, with Melissa Newman and David Rosenthal shaping the material into a final text two years later. The resulting work contributed to a broader cultural project, providing authoritative memories and a framework for a later series about Hollywood’s last stars, which Ethan Hawke directed for HBO Max and which premiered in late 2023.
In its publication, the book bearing the title The Extraordinary Life of an Extraordinary Man offered a fitting christening for a biography built around a carefully curated life. The work traces a performance history of Newman through a set of monikers that echo the roles he inhabited and the public identity he navigated. In more than a dozen stage, screen, and television projects, characters and personae are threaded with real-life episodes that reveal both ambition and vulnerability. The catalog includes a spectrum of notable works such as marked performances in which the actor embodied a sense of moral conflict, stubborn independence, and a relentless drive that would define his career. The narrative also names specific productions and moments that became touchstones in the mythos of Newman, reinforcing a sense of continuity between the actor’s on-screen personae and the lived experiences that shaped them.
Throughout the oral history, insights from collaborators illuminate the man behind the legend. Eliza Kazan, an influential voice in the artistic community, described Newman as strikingly honest, noting that beneath a guarded exterior lay a pure spirit striving to do right by the work. A fellow director, Richard Brooks who crossed paths with Newman in the mid-1970s, recalled a practical and focused demeanor, tempered by a belief that project outcomes mattered even when the path to success remained uncertain. Conversations with Brooks reveal a pragmatic approach to making cinema that balanced ambition with perceived feasibility, a temperament that helped steer projects through tumultuous periods.
The circle of influence around Newman extended to family perspectives as well. His elder brother, Arthur Newman Jr., spoke of a natural talent for pleasing people and a capability to navigate complex social dynamics. The narrative also delves into the complicity and friction within personal relationships, especially regarding the marriage to Jackie White and the unfolding romance with Joanne Woodward. The memoir quiets sensationalism by presenting these episodes as part of a broader investigation into ethical boundaries and personal responsibility. Newman’s own reflections suggest a life lived with ardent questions about morality and loyalty, framed by a persistent commitment to art and family. Woodward, for her part, portrays those years as a kind of extended script, where life itself felt like a long, improvisatory narrative that demanded courage, honesty, and a willingness to endure public scrutiny.
The most poignant passages of the work address the personal losses that shadowed Newman’s ascent. The death of his first son, Scott, from an overdose at age twenty-eight, looms as a stark counterpoint to the celebrity narrative. Woodward recounts the moment of arrival at the morgue, a scene that crystallized the fragility of life and the limits of control in a world that prizes control and charisma. The memoir treats this tragedy with a reserved, yet undeniable, gravity, offering a window into the emotional costs of fame and the enduring bond of family in the face of irreversible loss.