Steve McQueen - King of Cool

Iconic is a word that gets thrown around much too easily these days. It's simpler to say what is not an icon. For instance, a Kardashian isn't an icon, American Idol, ah, no, Donald Trump? God, no. Are you catching my drift yet?

An amalgamation of sons of liberty and rebellion 

So, what is iconic? Steve McQueen. How can something that can't replicated or duplicated be an icon? That's precisely it. It's unspoken. It doesn't require an explanation. It just is, but not in an existential sort of way.

When trying to figure out what it is that made Steve McQueen the epitome of cool, it's important to resist the urge to reduce the elements down in academic or didactic terms. Either you get him or you don't. Easy.

Triumph bike, Barbour jacket - two Brit products equal a right

My intro to Steve McQueen came early in life as he was my mom's favorite actor. By osmosis, I loved him, too, though it took me until I was older to understand what the attraction was exactly. It was easier, though, to love him since I was dragged along to almost every movie he ever made. 


McQueen was of an era when men didn't emote or show deep personal feelings. He was a movie star who spanned the period  of film between the romantic leading men and Method actors. 

Husqvarna

Acting-wise, he was more of a Gary Cooper than a Marlon Brando. Other actors have tried to emulate him, like Kevin Costner in The Bodyguard. The prototype for the movie had been around Hollywood for a long time and the part had been written with McQueen in mind. Costner tried desperately to channel him in the role. 

In a Cobra lent to him by none other than Carroll Shelby

The Great Escape was thrilling to watch because of the action scenes and frankly, McQueen. The camera loved him; he had a magnetism that was undeniable - you couldn't NOT watch him. 

Part of the appeal was it seemed like he didn't care whether you watched him or not. He could take ya or leave ya. If you were a woman, you wanted him to take you and if you were a guy, you just wanted to be in his orbit. 

Bullit, 1969

Men like Steve didn't need a woman to be his muse. Personal freedom was the only template he needed for his life. Cold beer, a pack of Camel cigarettes and a gang of blue-collar buddies were his primary needs. 

He always looked good, never more so than in Bullitt while in his black turtleneck sweater and trench coat. It was filmed in San Francisco where my mom and dad were from so there always a connection to the city when I watch the movie. Same with Clint Eastwood and his Dirty Harry movies.

Thomas Crown Affair, 1968

He was devastatingly handsome and suave in The Thomas Crown Affair. Wearing Persol sunglasses with a three piece suit, cut in a Prince of Wales tweed and looking like it had been custom tailored on Saville Row. Whoa. 

But, really, I liked him dirty and honest, like in Sand Pebbles. Even mucked up, he still has a presence and military bearing which he came by honestly having served in the U.S. Marine Corp.

The older I become the more I get the reasons why my mom liked Steve. My dad and he shared a similar emotional resume and enjoyed similar pursuits to blow off steam. 

Dad served in the Marines as a fighter pilot, liked fast cars and motorcycles and was emotionally reserved around women yet came to life in the company of his buddies. 

Raised Catholic like McQueen, spending the rest of their lives trying to shed themselves of the demons one incurs during a lifetime. 

The only thing that ended up taming Steve was the lung cancer (asbestosis mesathelioma) caused most likely by the asbestos he incurred during his time in the military while abating asbestos from ships and buildings back in the day before they issued you protective equipment from such toxins. 

One woman who tried to tame Steve was Ali MacGraw. A bit iconic herself, she came to the movie, The Getaway, vis a vis her producer husband, Robert Evans. Steve was not too thrilled to be playing alongside the wooden ice queen from Love Story. Apparently, things changed.

 Filmed in San Marcos, Texas, the chemistry between the two stars proved undeniable and MacGraw soon left Bob Evans, who was otherwise busy producing The Godfather. They esconced themselves in his Trancas (Malibu) Beach home and her career soon evaporated. 


Long before ever visiting there, one of my favorite movie scenes was the two of them jumping fully clothed into the San Marcos Springs. 

She did get mentioned in the Rolling Stones song, Star Star from the Goat's Head Soup album released in 1973 with the infamous lyrics...

"...Yeah, Ali MacGraw got mad with you

For givin' head to Steve McQueen"

Not exactly a tribute, right?

The Getaway 1972

Poor Ali. She wouldn't be the first woman, nor the last, to fall in love with an emotionally dysfunctional hot looking guy, thinking she'd live happily ever after. She was a big girl though and had to have known what she was getting herself into even if her autobiography says otherwise. 

In trying to sum Steve up, I guess you could add that an element of being iconic is living your life the way you want to live it. It doesn't always endear you to those who love you, but it is authentic and not manufactured. 

Steve made life look effortless and he lived it with gusto. He was like a volcano, rock hard and cool on the outside, swirling magna hot on the inside. Perfect? No. Iconic? Yes.

Note: Had a lot of pics up and then found some cooler ones ones  http://theselvedgeyard.wordpress.com