Thirteen years ago the columnist was aboard a luxury liner with the actor who played Moses and Ben Hur and recalls him as an actor, a father and a political activist

By Alex Ben Block

HOLLYWOOD, CA (Hollywood Today) 4/7/08 – When chance threw this writer together on a cruise celebrating a century of movies, Charlton Heston and I could not have had more divergent political and social views. However, for two weeks in June 1995, we found common ground as we sailed through the Mediterranean Sea on the luxury liner Silver Seas. For a brief period I gained insight into the human side of Heston, an Academy Award winner who was on the trip with his family, including his beloved grandson Jack, for whom he later wrote the 1997 book, “To Be A Man: Letters To My Grandson.”

My impressions from that trip came flooding back after learning that Heston had passed away Saturday night at age 84 following a long bout with Alzheimer’s, cancer and other ailments. He will be frozen in my mind forever as I saw him on that trip. Even in a jogging suit, Heston had been a powerful figure, standing a stately six feet three inches tall, his voice trained in the theater, as well as in movies and on television. Heston was on the cruise with his wife Lydia, whom he had been with since they were both acting students at Northwestern and his daughter in law Marilyn, who I knew from her work as a Hollywood publicist.

Heston of course was already a mythic figure in movie culture. As an actor he had brought to life such nearly mythical figures as Moses, Ben Hur, Michelangelo and Andrew Jackson, among many. He had even taken on the ape masters in Planet of the Apes, twice. His biography is long and his credits impressive, as you can read in his many obits. This column is more of a personal remembrance.

On that sea voyage, Heston’s attention was most often focused on his then three and a half year old grandson Jack and he could not have been more attentive to the cute blonde boy. At lunch one day in the ship’s elegant dining room Jack had managed to spill his entire glass of milk into his grandfather’s lap, but Heston had taken it all with good humor and assured the boy it was no big deal. I couldn’t help but laugh as the man who had once raised his staff on the big screen and parted the red sea to let the Jews escape slavery now dabbed drips of white milk from his jogging suit and chuckled as he reassured the child it was OK.

Heston also interacted warmly with the other noted film personalities on the cruise, which had been organized by Professor Richard Brown, and included the late, great Jerry Orbach, Rita Moreno, Cliff Robertson and Richard Dreyfuss who was on the cruise with his then nine year old son Ben. Dreyfuss, like me, was at the opposite end of the political spectrum from Heston, but the two actors chummed around as if they were old pals. Heston even played games of chess with Dreyfuss’s son.

Even then it was hard to reconcile this gentle giant with the tiny child and the political activist who had evolved from a Hollywood liberal into one of the nation’s most outspoken conservatives. As a young man, Heston had marched for Civil Rights in the South. Later like his pal Ronald Reagan before him, Heston had honed his political skills by serving as president of the Screen Actors Guild from 1965 to 1971. He had in his liberal days been a founder of the American Film Institute and a great supporter of the National Endowment for the Arts. The Academy of Motion Picture Arts & Sciences had given him the Jean Hersholt Humanitarian Award in 1978 for service to the industry.

However, beginning in the 1980s, as his career declined, Heston turned to the political right. Most notably he supported the gun lobby in the 1980s and 1990s. Heston later in life would become President of the National Rifle Association, and make TV ads for the organization he led from 1998 to 2003. In 2000, Heston electrified a NRA rally in Charlotte, North Carolina when he said the presidential race that year was a referendum on gun-control legislation. Heston criticized Al Gore, the Democratic candidate for President, for his stand against liberal rules on gun ownership. Heston held a Revolutionary War rifle, as he once held the staff of Moses, and famously declared: “When the loss of liberty looms as it does now, this is for those who would take it — and especially for you, Mr. Gore — from my — cold — dead — hands!”

Heston had already become a hero to many conservatives when he attended a Time Warner shareholders meeting in 1992 to protest the lyrics of a song by the rapper Ice-T which was told from the viewpoint of a gang banger. Heston read the song’s lyrics in slow, deliberate tones, and helped bring pressure on the company to act against Ice-T, who removed the song from the album.

Heston remained active on the stage, wrote books and lectured across the country even after his movie career as a leading man had faded. He brought that same gravitas to his political activism that had once made him a great screen star, even if he lacked the range and skills to be a really great actor. Heston could fill the screen with an image in his heyday that made him part of the story.

He could not leave that behind when his political days arrived. He was still a bigger than life figure, but for me he remained an enigma. That same voice which could boom out for the right to bear arms even as roving gangs in American cities were killing each other with guns, was also an instrument that could touch your heart. During our 1995 cruise, Heston was interviewed by Professor Brown and also one night did a movie reading of the story of Moses.

He was a complex and powerful personality. In his book “To Be A Man,” Heston shared the distillation of his philosophy, which was very much a traditional approach to what it meant to be part of society and the world. His letters were full of love and encouragement for little Jack, and talked of the need to appreciate family, appreciate one’s heritage and be honest, loyal, a man of integrity and a good friend. However, they were also sprinkled full of needles aimed at his favorite targets, such as gays, feminist, welfare and Hillary Clinton.

A year after that cruise, Heston had hip replacement surgery. Two years after that, he was treated for prostate cancer. In 2000, a story in the National Enquirer revealed that Heston had spent three weeks in rehab for a problem handling alcohol.

One of Heston’s notable final public appearance came when Michael Moore interview the actor and activist for his 2002 Oscar-winning documentary, “Bowling for Columbine.” Moore tried to pin on Heston guilt for being callous toward shooting victims. However, Heston’s response, even though he was already frail, was to take control and put Moore down instead.

Heston’s family over the weekend issued this statement: “Charlton Heston was seen by the world as larger than life. He was known for his chiseled jaw, broad shoulders and resonating voice, and, of course, for the roles he played. Indeed, he committed himself to every role with passion, and pursued every cause with unmatched enthusiasm and integrity.

“We knew him as an adoring husband, a kind and devoted father, and a gentle grandfather, with an infectious sense of humor. He served these far greater roles with tremendous faith, courage and dignity. He loved deeply, and he was deeply loved.

“No one could ask for a fuller life than his. No man could have given more to his family, to his profession, and to his country. In his own words, “I have lived such a wonderful life! I’ve lived enough for two people.”

Heston was indeed a complex man, who lived life on his own terms. He had strong personal beliefs about what it mean to be a man and an American. I didn’t agree with much of his politics but after my brief experience with Heston, I had come away impressed with the man and the gentle, dignified way he dealt with his family and life.

Now his hands are cold and he is dead and others have taken up the causes he championed. We are left with a brilliant legacy on film, a political legacy that came from his heart and memories of a performer and parent who always played at the top of his game, even if he was on the other side of many issues from his friends in Hollywood.

The family requested that, in lieu of flowers, donations be made to the Motion Picture and Television Fund: MPTF; 22212 Ventura Boulevard, Suite 300; Woodland Hills, CA 91364
(www.mptvfund.org).