‘It’s Bad’: Redford Breaks His Silence on Newman’s Death and Missed Opportunities

Robert Redford and Paul Newman were a Hollywood dream team, their partnership in Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid (1969) and The Sting (1973) cementing their place in cinematic history.

But while their on-screen chemistry seemed effortless, their friendship off-camera was even more profound.

For decades, Redford remained tight-lipped about the intricacies of their bond.

But at 89, he finally broke his silence, revealing a mix of admiration, regret, and heartfelt memories about the man who was more than just a co-star.

Born Charles Robert Redford Jr. on August 18, 1936, in Santa Monica, California, Redford grew up in modest circumstances during the Great Depression.

His father, a practical and hardworking man, instilled discipline, while his mother, a freelance illustrator, nurtured his creative side.

This blend of influences shaped Redford into a man who valued both structure and imagination.

Though his childhood was far from glamorous, growing up near Hollywood planted the seeds of his eventual career in film.

Redford’s journey to stardom was anything but smooth.

After a turbulent youth marked by rebellious behavior and heavy drinking, he dropped out of the University of Colorado, deciding to pursue art and acting instead.

His travels in Europe and subsequent enrollment at the American Academy of Dramatic Arts in New York City honed his craft.

By the late 1950s, Redford was making small appearances on television, slowly building his reputation as a serious actor.

His breakout moment came in 1969 with Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, directed by George Roy Hill.

Redford played the reserved yet deadly Sundance Kid opposite Paul Newman’s charismatic Butch Cassidy.

The film’s success catapulted Redford to fame, but it also marked the beginning of a lifelong friendship with Newman.

Their natural chemistry on-screen redefined the buddy film genre, creating a dynamic that felt both modern and authentic.

The two actors complemented each other perfectly: Newman’s charm and quick wit balanced Redford’s quiet intensity.

The pair reunited four years later for The Sting, another George Roy Hill masterpiece.

This time, they portrayed con artists in Depression-era America, delivering a performance that was as stylish as it was entertaining.

The film won seven Academy Awards, including Best Picture, and solidified their status as one of Hollywood’s most bankable duos.

Off-screen, their camaraderie was just as compelling.

Known for their playful banter and practical jokes, Redford and Newman formed a bond built on mutual respect and understanding.

Newman, already an established star when they first met, never overshadowed Redford, who was still finding his footing in Hollywood.

Instead, he offered guidance and encouragement, providing a sense of stability that Redford valued deeply.

Redford, in turn, brought a fresh energy that Newman admired.

Their lack of competitiveness allowed them to thrive both individually and as a team, a rarity in an industry often marked by ego and rivalry.

Despite their undeniable chemistry and the success of their collaborations, Redford and Newman never worked together again after The Sting.

Fans speculated for years about why this was the case, and Redford’s recent revelations shed light on the matter.

“It’s bad because there will never be another chance,” he admitted, expressing regret over the missed opportunities to collaborate further.

The finality of Newman’s passing in 2008 only deepened this sense of loss for Redford, who described Newman as not just a friend, but a brother.

Redford also reflected on the unique qualities that set Newman apart in Hollywood.

In an industry often characterized by ego and competition, Newman’s humility, generosity, and humor stood out.

He treated everyone—from co-stars to crew members—with respect, a trait that left a lasting impression on Redford.

“Paul taught me that success is measured by kindness, integrity, and impact,” Redford shared, emphasizing how Newman’s values shaped his own approach to life and work.

Newman’s legacy extended beyond his acting career.

His philanthropic efforts, particularly through his food company Newman’s Own, which donated all its profits to charity, left a significant mark.

Inspired by Newman’s example, Redford founded the Sundance Institute and Film Festival, creating a platform for independent filmmakers to share their stories.

This commitment to nurturing new talent reflected the lessons he had learned from Newman about using one’s influence for good.

Their friendship wasn’t just about shared successes or mutual admiration; it was also about being there for each other during life’s hardest moments.

When Redford lost his infant son, Scott, to SIDS in 1959, Newman offered quiet support, providing empathy without fanfare.

This kind of loyalty built a trust that lasted decades, making Newman’s death in 2008 an especially profound loss for Redford.

At 89, Redford’s reflections on Newman are tinged with nostalgia and bittersweet regret.

He spoke of their unspoken understanding on set, their shared humor, and the joy of their time together.

But he also lamented the opportunities they missed, the projects that never came to fruition.

“It’s bad because there will never be another chance,” he said, a poignant reminder of the finality of life and the importance of cherishing the moments we have with those we hold dear.

In the end, Redford’s words paint a picture of a friendship that transcended Hollywood.

It was a bond built on trust, respect, and a shared commitment to living with integrity.

As Redford looks back on his life and career, it’s clear that his connection with Newman was one of the most meaningful relationships he ever had.

Their partnership, both on and off-screen, remains a testament to the power of genuine friendship in an industry often defined by superficiality.