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Burt Reynolds

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Still, when Reynolds eventually received an Oscar nomination for the film — his first ever — he was overwhelmed by the warm reactions of his peers and those critics who'd never been particularly kind to him. It was as if the industry that had been kicking him for the past decade was welcoming him back as an elder statesman. The last of the old-time Hollywood pros. ''It turns out I had some closet fans,'' he says, still surprised. ''My career has been like a heart-attack victim's. I was down at the bottom of the cellar and came back to the top. Now, with The Longest Yard, this picture's like the Deliverance of this period of my life. I'll either come out of it looking like the old man of the century, or I'll come out of it with a pop.''

As Reynolds says this, a smile spreads across his face. It's as if he's outlived his enemies and now gets to write the history books. He raises an orange slice to his lips and leans back in his chair. Because after more than 75 films, he's a man who senses that things are finally going his way again. That he's taken whatever hits the business can dish out, gotten back up, bad knee and all, and kept running toward something only he can see — and see clear as daylight.

Getting up to leave, I ask Reynolds if he's ever thought of retiring. He pauses for a moment. ''Yeah, I'm going to retire hopefully like Cary Grant did,'' he says. Working. ''I'll be on stage telling a story, everyone's going to applaud and laugh, and then I'll drop like a rock.''

Originally posted Apr 25, 2005 Published in issue #817-818 Apr 29, 2005 Order article reprints
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