It's hard to imagine a world without Robert Redford in it.
When I heard he had passed away at 89, I felt a lump in my throat.
Redford wasn't just a movie star — he was the kind of figure who made you believe in cinema, in storytelling, and even in America itself.
All-American golden boy
To me, Redford was always more than just the charming guy with golden hair on screen. He was incredibly good-looking, maybe the last real matinee idol, but underneath that, he had a quiet strength and a searching soul.
In every part he played, whether as the Sundance Kid or Bob Woodward in All the President's Men, he seemed to hold up a mirror to our country. He made us think about who we are, and sometimes who we were scared to admit we had become.
Redford was the all-American golden boy with messy hair and a bright smile, but what made him unforgettable was that he never just settled for being a heartthrob. From Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid to The Old Man & the Gun, he stood at the crossroads of entertainment and cultural change, turning popular movies into reflections of America's worries and dreams.
Even though he never won an acting Oscar, the Academy recognized Robert Redford's amazing career with a lifetime achievement award in 2002.
Redford was drawn to roles that were different, showing his deep love for independent films. But he often felt that his good looks worked against him instead of helping him.
“The idea that you're not really an actor, you're just someone who looks good. That was always tough for me,” he said.
“I always took pride in whatever character I was playing; I would become that character.
But maybe what really made him different was the life he led outside of movies. The superstar who didn't want fame didn't hide away in Hollywood's sparkle; he created something greater than himself.
Redford understood that Hollywood wasn't truly about art, but he wouldn't accept the harsh truth of the business. Through Sundance, he supported independent voices that might have stayed silent, changing the industry and making sure that films remained connected to honesty and creativity.
In many respects, Redford wasn't fond of his hometown, Los Angeles, especially Hollywood. His favorite spot was Mount Timpanogos in Utah, which first enchanted him when he was a student driving back from the University of Colorado. It was also in Utah, among the mountains he cherished, that he took his last breath.
He advocated for the environment long before it became trendy, standing up for the land and natural areas that were just as important to his identity as the movies he made.
“Because of my beliefs, I was burned in effigy, and there were threats to my life. It wasn't fair to my family,” he once shared.
How he handled personal loss
Behind the famous smile, Redford's life was filled with significant personal loss — his mother, who left us too early; his baby son, who was lost to SIDS; and his adult son Jamie, who succumbed to cancer. I think it was these tragedies that added depth to his work. The man who resembled a golden god truly understood heartbreak, which made him relatable.
As a director, Redford also found great success. His first film, Ordinary People, explored deep themes of grief, guilt, and family conflict – revealing to audiences the raw and honest side of loss that Hollywood rarely showed back then.
When a reporter once asked him what message he wanted his movie to convey to young people, he answered:
“I don't want it to say anything to young people. I want it to say something to grownups, if it says anything. I want it to say, ‘Listen to young people.'”
In losing Robert Redford, we lose not just a star, but a guiding light in an industry often ruled by ego.
Now, as we bid farewell, I remember Redford not just as a screen legend but as someone who taught us how to endure pain with dignity.
He inspired us to dream, he encouraged us to think, and he gave us reasons to believe in stories.
Hollywood will never have another like him.
