Who isn’t jarred and saddened by the idea of suicide (I am anyway), and doubly so by the idea of a possible joint suicide between an older husband and younger wife, and even more so when you throw the couple’s dog into the equation?

The first impulse is to avoid dwelling on this or that death and instead celebrate the glow of life…in particular the admirable, fascinating, glorious life of the departed.

So let’s do that — Gene Hackman was absolutely among the greatest actors of the 20th Century, and this is what needs focusing upon and will be focused upon today, tomorrow and for a long time to come.

And yet this is the apparent truth of it: Sometime yesterday the 95 year-old Hackman, presumably dealing with diminished terms of life and apparently as an act of decisive agency and dignity, decided to go to sleep of his own volition, and his 63 year-old pianist wife, Betsy Arakawa, decided to take the journey with him.

And somehow or in some way their dog also died, the thinking presumably being that love and devotion are more important than the mere fact of aliveness. The dog would have been devastated to have been left alone so Gene and Betsy took him/her along.

A few details are known at this stage, but here’s hoping the final moments were gentle or peaceful or something in that vein.

N.Y. Times: “Before entering the [Hackman] home, the sheriff’s department received confirmation from the fire department and the gas company that it was safe to enter. ‘We’re not going to guess this was an accident or natural causes,” a spokesperson said. ‘It wasn’t typical.’ A previous statement sent out early Thursday by the sheriff’s office said that foul play was not suspected.”

AP: “Hackman, 95, Betsy Arakawa, 63, and their dog were all dead when deputies entered their home to check on their welfare around 1:45 p.m. Wednesday, Santa Fe County Sheriff’s Office spokesperson Denise Avila said.”

There will be no end to the negativity if the Academy Award telecast producers fail to insert Hackman into the death reel, and I mean at the very end of it.

“Stoplight with Hackman,” posted on 1.28.21: Sometime in the summer or early fall of ’94 (can’t remember which) I visited the Culver Studios set of Crimson Tide. Producer Jerry Bruckheimer had invited me. I hung around in a low-key way for two or three hours. No chit-chats with “talent” or anyone except Jerry — basically an opportunity to see the nuclear submarine set, which was built to tilt and lean and shake around. I watched Tony Scott guide Gene Hackman through a confrontation scene over and over. I was maybe 100 feet away.

When you first arrive on a big movie set there’s nothing more exciting. And then you hang around for a while, doing nothing but watching and maybe shooting the shit with whomever and taking notes and sipping soft drinks and nibbling bagels, and you’re eventually bored stiff.

Eventually it was time to leave. I took a last look at the set, thanked Jerry, shook hands and briskly walked off the sound stage and back to my black 240SX Nissan. I eased out of the parking lot and drove north on Ince Blvd. I stopped at a red light at the corner of Ince and Culver Blvd.

Just to my left was a large black limo, idling like me. I looked over and damned if it wasn’t Hackman in the back seat, just sitting there, three or four feet away.

“And so what?” you might ask. I’d just been watching him play the tough submarine captain, saying the same lines over and over. But I was nonetheless fascinated by my close-up view of the guy, and immediately I was telling myself “Jesus, don’t look…don’t be an asshole! They can feel it when fans are staring at them, even if it’s through glass.”

So I snuck a quick peek and turned away. And then another quickie. And then another. Not once did Hackman look in my direction. Maybe he knew I was sneaking peeks but decided not to confront me because I had the decency not to stare. I know that if I’d quickly turned and found him staring right at me it would have been mortifying. Thank God he didn’t.

Several months later I schmoozed with the whole Crimson Tide crew (Hackman, Denzel, Scott, Don and Jerry) at a Marina del Rey junket. A lot of fun, lots of food…a splendid time was had by all.

I remember asking Denzel about the Silver Surfer scene and asking if he had a preference for the Jack Kirby or Moebius version, or whether it had been discussed between takes or whatever. He looked at me, smirked, shook his head and opened his hands, palms up. He was basically saying “I didn’t ask, and I didn’t care.”

Posted on 10.30.23: We all recall last summer’s French Connection deleted-footage brouhaha, which involved the deletion of nine seconds of footage from a police-precinct scene featuring Gene Hackkman and Roy Scheider.

It was presumably deleted because Hackman’s detective character, Popeye Doyle, blurts out the N-word.

Perhaps some Woke Central pearl-clutcher complained and director William Friedkin acquiesced for some reason. I only know that on Friday, 6.9, HE commenter “The Multiplex” reported that “in Disney’s DCP asset list the currently-streaming [censored] version of The French Connection is listed as ‘2021 William Friedkin v2.’” He also sent visual proof of this.

The absence of the footage first became apparent during a 5.12.23 screening of The French Connection at Santa Monica’s Aero theatre. It was soon after apparent that the edited version was streaming on all the major services, including Criterion, iTunes, Apple, MAX, Amazon and (I think) Netflix. Nobody could get a statement from the ailing 87-year-old Freidkin. He died a couple of months later — 8.7.23. It was thereafter presumed that the mystery of the nonsensical edit would never be solved, and that the censored version would continue to be streamed on all the platforms.

Not true, as it turns out.

Earlier this evening “bentrane” reported that he recently watched The French Connection on MAX, and that the missing N-word scene has been restored. I immediately went to my Sony 65-incher and watched the scene in question on MAX. “Bentrane” is correct — the nine-second N-word excerpt is back, baby! The uncensored version is also showing on Apple TV — great. The film isn’t streaming on Netflix or Criterion as we speak, but the censored version is still streaming on Amazon.

Apparently Disney, which licenses and provides The French Connection to the streamers, dumped the censored version, possibly or presumably because of all the negative press. Maybe Disney felt free to switch it out after Friedkin’s passing. Maybe a Friedkin rep stepped in after he died and asked that the original version be restored. Who knows? No one said jack last May and June, and apparently no one has announced anything about the original version being back in action.

Below are clips of the raw version vs. the edited version.