M. EMMET WALSH

1935-2024

Blood Simple by the Coen brothers is near-universally viewed as one of the greatest directorial debuts. And there is perhaps no better introduction to a filmmaker’s – or in this case, filmmakers’ – sensibilities than the monologue that opens the movie, in which a narrator lays out the most direct explanation of the Coens’ approach to their fictional universes: ‘The world is full of complainers. And the fact is, nothing comes with a guarantee. Now I don’t care if you’re the Pope of Rome, President of the United States or Man of the Year; something can always go wrong…’

This narration is delivered by one of the best voices ever to grace American cinema, that of beloved character actor M. Emmet Walsh. The late performer – known for his hangdog features and dry voice – had well over 200 credits in film and television across nearly 60 years, though Blood Simple was a rare starring role, winning him the inaugural Independent Spirit Award for Best Male Lead. For many, that private-detective character will be his defining performance: an alchemical combination of his ability to be scary, sleazy, darkly funny, and even a little sweet, sometimes simultaneously.

Two years prior to Blood Simple, Blade Runner saw those skills used to similarly searing effect in a very different neo-noir. Ridley Scott’s sci-fi classic wows you in its opening moments, and only gets better once Walsh enters as LAPD captain Bryant: pulling Harrison Ford’s Deckard out of retirement and intimidating him with a mix of deceptive friendliness and stern menace.

From his first significant bit part in Alice’s Restaurant through to late-career roles in Knives Out and The Righteous Gemstones, Walsh had a natural ability to make one hang on to every word he delivered in his distinctive drawl– even if it was sometimes just for a minute of screentime. At home in any genre, his career encompassed everything from iconic comedies (The Jerk, Raising Arizona, Fletch) and eradefining dramas (Serpico, Reds, Ordinary People) to cult franchises (Critters, Escape from the Planet of the Apes); counter-culture classics (Midnight Cowboy) to straight-to-DVD schlock (The Scorpion King 4). He worked with New Hollywood titans – Peter Bogdanovich, Brian De Palma, Elaine May – and brought gravitas to early works by modern greats (Baz Luhrmann’s Romeo + Juliet, Brad Bird’s The Iron Giant).

Film critic Roger Ebert famously had a Stanton-Walsh rule, where he suggested that no film featuring either Walsh or Harry Dean Stanton in a supporting role can be all bad. While Walsh’s presence alone won’t redeem efforts like Wild Wild West or Free Willy 2 as misunderstood masterpieces, revisiting them guarantees at least one scene where you’ll be absolutely rapt.