Actor Tony Curtis Dies At Los Vegas Area Home

HENDERSON, Nev. – Tony Curtis shaped himself from a 1950s movie heartthrob
into a respected actor, showing a determined streak that served him well in
such films as "Sweet Smell of Success," "The Defiant Ones" and "Some Like It
Hot."

The Oscar-nominated actor died Wednesday evening of cardiac arrest at home
in the Las Vegas-area city of Henderson, Clark County Coroner Mike Murphy
said Thursday. He was 85.

"He died peacefully here, surrounded by those who love him and have been
caring for him," his wife, Jill Curtis, told The Associated Press outside
their home. "All Tony ever wanted to be was a movie star. He didn't want to
be the most dramatic actor. He wanted to be a movie star, ever since he was
a little kid."

Curtis began acting in frivolous movies that exploited his handsome physique
and appealing personality then steadily moved to more substantial roles,
starting in 1957 in the harrowing show business tale, "Sweet Smell of
Success."

In 1958, "The Defiant Ones" brought him an Academy Award nomination as best
actor for his portrayal of a white racist who escaped from prison handcuffed
to a black man played by Sidney Poitier.

The following year, Curtis donned women's clothing and sparred with Marilyn
Monroe in one of the most acclaimed film comedies ever, Billy Wilder's "Some
Like It Hot."

"He was a fine actor ... I shall miss him," said British actor Roger Moore,
who starred alongside Curtis in TV's "The Persuaders."

"He was great fun to work with, a great sense of humor and wonderful ad
libs," Moore told Sky News. "We had the best of times."

Curtis' first wife was actress Janet Leigh of "Psycho" fame; actress Jamie
Lee Curtis is their daughter.

"My father leaves behind a legacy of great performances in movies and in his
paintings and assemblages," Jamie Lee Curtis said in a statement. "He leaves
behind children and their families who loved him and respected him and a
wife and in-laws who were devoted to him. He also leaves behind fans all
over the world."

Curtis struggled against drug and alcohol abuse as starring roles became
fewer then bounced back in film and television as a character actor.

His brash optimism returned, and he allowed his once-shiny black hair to
turn silver.

Again he came back after even those opportunities began to wane, reinventing
himself as a writer and painter whose canvasses sold for as much as $20,000.

"I'm not ready to settle down like an elderly Jewish gentleman, sitting on a
bench and leaning on a cane," he said at 60. "I've got a helluva lot of
living to do."

Actress and activist Marlo Thomas said she was saddened that Curtis' death
so closely followed the Sept. 22 death in Berkeley, Calif., of Eddie Fisher,
a superstar singer of the 1950s.

"Tony Curtis and Eddie Fisher in the same week. It's very sad," said Thomas,
who starred in the late-1960s sitcom "That Girl" and won Emmy, Golden Globe,
Grammy and Peabody awards.

"He was funny, so very funny, very talented and a great spirit," Thomas said
of Curtis. "I found him to be a darling guy."

Curtis perfected his craft in forgettable films such as "Francis," "I Was a
Shoplifter," "No Room for the Groom" and "Son of Ali Baba."

He first attracted critical notice as Sidney Falco, a press agent seeking
favor with a sadistic columnist, played by Burt Lancaster, in the 1957
classic "Sweet Smell of Success."

In her book "Kiss Kiss Bang Bang," film critic Pauline Kael wrote that in
the film, "Curtis grew up into an actor and gave the best performance of his
career."

Other prestigious films followed: Stanley Kubrick's "Spartacus," "The
Vikings," "Kings Go Forth," "Operation Petticoat" and "Some Like It Hot." He
also found time to do a voice acting gig as his prehistoric lookalike, Stony
Curtis, in an episode of "The Flintstones."

"The Defiant Ones" remained his only Oscar-nominated role.

"I think it has nothing to do with good performances or bad performances,"
he told The Washington Post in 2002. "After the number of movies I made
where I thought there should be some acknowledgment, there was nothing from
the Academy.

"My happiness and privilege is that my audience around the world is
supportive of me, so I don't need the Academy."

In 2000, an American Film Institute survey of the funniest films in history
ranked "Some Like It Hot" at No. 1. Curtis — famously imitating Cary
Grant's accent — and Jack Lemmon play jazz musicians who dress up as women
to escape retribution after witnessing a gangland massacre.

Monroe was their co-star, and Curtis and Lemmon were repeatedly kept waiting
as Monroe lingered in her dressing room out of fear and insecurity. Curtis
fumed over her unprofessionalism.

When someone once remarked that it must be thrilling to kiss Monroe in the
film's love scenes, the actor snapped, "It's like kissing Hitler." In later
years, his opinion of Monroe softened, and in interviews he praised her
unique talent.

In 2002, Curtis toured in "Some Like It Hot" — a revised and retitled
version of the 1972 Broadway musical "Sugar," which was based on the film.
In the touring show, the actor graduated to the role of Osgood Fielding III,
the part played in the movie by Joe E. Brown.

After his star faded in the late 1960s, Curtis shifted to lesser roles. With
jobs harder to find, he fell into drug and alcohol addiction.

"From 22 to about 37, I was lucky," Curtis told Interview magazine in the
1980s. "But by the middle '60s, I wasn't getting the kind of parts I wanted,
and it kind of soured me. ... But I had to go through the drug inundation
before I was able to come to grips with it and realize that it had nothing
to do with me, that people weren't picking on me."

He recovered in the early '80s after a 30-day treatment at the Betty Ford
Center.

"Mine was a textbook case," he said in a 1985 interview. "My life had become
unmanageable because of booze and dope. Work became a strain and a struggle.
Because I didn't want to face the challenge, I simply made myself
unavailable."

One role during that era of struggle did bring him an Emmy nomination: his
portrayal of David O. Selznick in the TV movie "The Scarlett O'Hara War," in
1980.

He remained vigorous following heart bypass surgery in 1994, although his
health had declined in recent years.

"Definitely, I still watch his movies," said Roxanne Shannon, a neighbor of
Curtis in the suburban golf course development about 11 miles southeast of
the Las Vegas Strip. "What a handsome man, oh my God, and a great actor."

Jill Curtis, his sixth wife, said Curtis had been hospitalized several times
in recent weeks for treatment of chronic obstructive pulmonary disease and
lung problems she blamed on smoking 30 years ago. She said he recently
returned home, where died in his sleep.

"His heart survived things that Tony would always say would kill an ordinary
man," she said. "This time, his heart was ready to go and ready to be at
peace."

Curtis took a fatherly pride in daughter Jamie's success. They were
estranged for a long period, then reconciled. "I understand him better now,"
she said, "perhaps not as a father but as a man."

He also had five other children. Daughters Kelly, also with Leigh, and
Allegra, with second wife Christine Kaufmann, also became actresses. His
other wives were Leslie Allen, Andrea Savio, Lisa Deutsch and Jill
VandenBerg, whom he married in 1998.

Jill Curtis, 40, operates Shiloh Horse Rescue, a nonprofit refuge for abused
and neglected horses. She said she planned to make arrangements for a public
memorial.

Tony Curtis married Janet Leigh in 1951, when they were both rising young
stars. They divorced in 1963.

"Tony and I had a wonderful time together; it was an exciting, glamorous
period in Hollywood," Leigh, who died in 2004, once said. "A lot of great
things happened, most of all, two beautiful children."

Curtis was born Bernard Schwartz in the Bronx in 1925, the son of Hungarian
Jews who had emigrated to the United States after World War I. His father,
Manny Schwartz, had yearned to be an actor, but work was hard to find with
his heavy accent. He settled for tailoring jobs, moving the family
repeatedly as he sought work.

"I was always the new kid on the block, so I got beat up by the other kids,"
Curtis recalled in 1959. "I had to figure a way to avoid getting my nose
broken. So I became the crazy new kid on the block."

His sidewalk histrionics helped avoid beatings and led to acting in plays at
a settlement house. He also grew to love movies. "My whole culture as a boy
was movies," he said. "For 11 cents, you could sit in the front row of a
theater for 10 hours, which I did constantly."

After serving in the Pacific during World War II and being wounded at Guam,
he returned to New York and studied acting under the G.I. Bill. He appeared
in summer stock theater and on the Borscht Circuit in the Catskills. Then an
agent lined up an audition with a Universal-International talent scout. In
1948, at 23, he signed a seven-year contract with the studio, starting at
$100 a week.

Bernie Schwartz sounded too Jewish for a movie actor, so the studio gave him
a new name: Anthony Curtis, taken from his favorite novel, "Anthony
Adverse," and the Anglicized name of a favorite uncle. After his eighth
film, he became Tony Curtis.

The studio helped smooth the rough edges off the ambitious young actor. The
last to go was his street-tinged Bronx accent, which had become a Hollywood
joke.

Curtis pursued another career as an artist, creating Matisse-like still
lifes with astonishing speed. "I'm a recovering alcoholic," he said in 1990
as he concluded a painting in 40 minutes in the garden of the Bel-Air Hotel.
"Painting has given me such a great pleasure in life, helped me to recover."

He also turned to writing, producing a 1977 novel, "Kid Cody and Julie
Sparrow." In 1993, he wrote "Tony Curtis: The Autobiography."