We lost Dolly Parton, Tim Curry, and Optimus Prime all in the same damn week.
Dolly died after what her family describes as “a brief battle with cancer,” and Tim had lived for 14 years with the physically devastating effects of a stroke, while never losing his trademark charm and flair. Actor Peter Cullen, who voiced heroic Autobot leader Optimus Prime, died at his home on Wednesday.
I first discovered Tim as my childhood hero Captain Hook in 1990’s Peter Pan & The Pirates cartoon. His Hook is why I will respond to any self-evident statement with “an acute observation … though a trifle obvious.” (Watch below.)
The same year, Tim terrified me (and a generation of children) as the nameless entity in the TV miniseries adaptation of Stephen King’s It. He presents as a slightly seedy but otherwise normal clown you might see at a children’s birthday party, yet with a mere word or glimmer in his eyes, he transforms into a living nightmare. “Kiss me, fat boy!”
Of course, 1990 was also when I first saw The Rocky Horror Picture Show, which was finally released on VHS for its 15th anniversary. Tim’s Dr. Frank-N-Furter — the sel-identified “sweet transvestite” mad scientist — is an other-worldly creation who commands the screen. He would find it impossible to fully shed the mad doctor’s platform heels though he fully embraced the film’s legacy and its fans.
Tim originated the part of Mozart in the 1980 Broadway stage production of Amadeus. He wasn’t considered for the lead in the 1984 film adaptation because director Miloš Forman wanted an American cast. He did let Curry screen test for the part of Salieri, which won F. Murray Abraham an Oscar.
Tim’s film career would have similar near misses. He was fantastic in 1982’s Annie, which otherwise received mixed reviews. Clue (1985) boasts arguably his second best performance on screen, but it was a box office bomb — only later achieving a second life as a cult classic. (And just how many actors could have played both Frank-N-Furter and Wadsworth the butler?) Tim would later deliver a series of scene-stealing performances in 1990s films, including The Hunt for Red October, Oscar, Home Alone 2, National Lampoon’s Loaded Weapon 1, Three Musketeers, The Shadow, Congo, and Muppet Treasure Island. Throughout his career, Tim was a gift whenever he showed up on stage or screen.
Although fellow Boomers, Dolly’s career and impact were very different from Tim’s. People on my social media feed mourning Tim’s passing also share many of my cultish interests. They’re Rocky Horror people or Clue people or Spamalot people. But what’s astonishing about the reaction to Dolly’s death is how uniform it’s been — regardless of race, religion, social class, people genuinely loved Dolly. I haven’t seen anything like this since Fred Rogers died.
Like Tim, though, Dolly gained fame through a larger-than-life character who dressed flamboyantly. But while the flashy outfits, oversized platinum blonde curls, and healthy figure are what caught audiences’ attention, Dolly maintained it with her stellar song craft.
Born in a one-room cabin in rural Tennessee, without running water or electricity, Dolly was a musical prodigy. She wrote her first song when she was six, started performing on TV by 10, and made her first recording at the age of 11.
Over the next six decades, she released more than 60 albums. She was an instant success on the country music charts, and a decade after her first album, Hello, I’m Dolly, she hit the pop mainstream with the platinum selling, Here You Come Again. She sold more than 100 million records worldwide.
Dolly also accomplished what — and I say this with love — artists such as Prince and Madonna never managed to pull off, an impressive movie career. Her first film was the box office smash 9 to 5 in 1980. She’s a revelation as Doralee Rhodes, a role Megan Hilton would bring to exquisite life on stage. Dolly came up with the title track’s distinctive rhythm by running her acrylic fingernails back and forth against one another. The song “9 to 5” became a working class anthem, and it’s also damn funky.
Dolly followed up 9 to 5 with 1982’s The Best Little Whorehouse In Texas, which I think played in South Carolina movie theaters billed as either “Best Little” or “Texas.” Colin Higgins directed Dolly in both films, but he would later die from AIDS in 1988 at the age of 47.
Steel Magnolias, featuring a young Julia Roberts, was another big hit for Dolly, who played beauty salon owner Truvy Jones. However, I have a personal affection for Dolly’s 1986 TV movie, A Smoky Mountain Christmas, which made my holiday that year. Here she is — in full seasonal attire — promoting the movie on The Tonight Show Starring Johnny Carson. (Watch below.)
Dolly’s songs championed the average American, but not with “America First” bravado but with inspiring vulnerability. “Jolene” is a desperate woman’s appeal to her spouse’s mistress. Then there is the heartbreaking “I Will Always Love You,” where she offers to stand aside for the love of her life: “If I should stay, I would only be in your way. So I’ll go, but I know. I’ll think of you every step of the way.”
Not long after Dolly released “I Will Always Love You,” Elvis Presley wanted to cover the song. There was one big catch, though: Elvis wanted half the publishing rights. The 28-year-old Dolly turned down a fortune in 1974. She might’ve written “Jolene” and “I Will Always Love You” but she was nothing like the narrators in those songs. She always knew her worth. This would pay off when Whitney Houston covered “I Will Always Love You” for 1992’s The Bodyguard. Whitney’s version was a massive hit, selling more than 24 million copies worldwide and earning Dolly more than $10 million in royalties. (Teenage SER didn’t think the song’s lyrics fit the actual plot of the film, but what did I know?)
Dolly used the money from the “I Will Always Love You” cover to invest in a Nashville strip mall in a Black community. “This is the house that Whitney built,” she said.
Dolly was a visionary businesswoman. Her theme park, Dollywood, has created 23,000 jobs in rural Sevier County with a direct economic impact of almost $2 billion.
“When I first had the big idea to start Dollywood, my accountants and lawyers all thought I was making a big mistake,” Parton said in an interview with Forbes. “I was found out to be right, and they were found out to be gone.” Dolly was always more than her stage and screen persona, but she was also never less than the Dolly her fans loved.
Dolly was a tremendous public servant, who believed she had an obligation to share her wealth and success with those less fortunate. Dolly Parton’s Imagination Library was a free-book-gifting program for pre-school-aged children across the country. She had a personal commitment to childhood literacy. She said, “My daddy was the smartest man I have ever known, but I knew his inability to read probably kept him from seeing all of his dreams come true. Inspiring kids to love to read became my mission.”
Dolly also helped give us Buffy the Vampire Slayer and the Covid vaccine.
Dolly was famous for almost the entirety of my life. Other artists might’ve shared her humble beginnings but she maintained a sense of normality and accessibility that eventually escape longtime celebrities. She always felt like that girl from rural Tennessee.
Existing in a world without Dolly Parton feels impossible to comprehend right now, but as I grow older, I realize that it was a privilege to have grown up in a world with her. It’s a gift I’ll cherish.
A twisted and unhappy person online posted in response to Dolly’s death: “If everyone likes you that means you never took any controversial stands.” This is probably how he rationalizes his own toxic behavior. No one likes him because he’s so brilliant and willing to make bold stands. However, Dolly is an example of how you can be bold artistically and personally, while still remaining kind. This is her true legacy and wise people will learn from it.
I was just about to schedule this piece for publication when I learned that Peter Cullen had also died. Cullen’s bad ass baritone made him a perfect fit for such villains as the Red Skull (Spider-Man and His Amazing Friends), KARR (KITT’s “evil twin” so to speak on Knight Rider), and the sinister Venger from the Dungeons and Dragons cartoon. However, he is best known for that model of heroism Optimus Prime, the leader of the Autobots from the 1980s Transformers cartoon. Inspired by advice from his own childhood hero — his brother, Cullen’s Optimus was commanding yet gentle, powerful but wise above all. When Optimus was killed off in the 1986 Transformers movie, kids were traumatized because he was far more to them than just a giant robot. For many kids less fortunate than myself, he was the protective, reliable father figure they never had.
When a live-action Transformers movie was made in 2007, fans who’d grown up with the cartoon made it clear that there could be only one Optimus Prime. Cullen voiced the character in seven films over 16 years, ending his impressive career as a blockbuster movie star.
August ends in a few days, but my special summer subscription sale is still in effect — 40 percent off the usual annual paid subscriber rate. That’s just $30 a year. Thanks to all who have upgraded to paid subscriber status recently.
This week, I wrote about those bizarre no-shoe shoes from Chanel that actor Margaret Qualley wore to a movie premiere.
I questioned Hakeem Jeffries’s political instincts and ability to “meet the moment.”
Know-nothing nepotism prevails in my home state, as Lindsey Graham’s younger sister Darline Graham wins the Republican Senate primary. This is South Carolina, so Graham could basically stop campaigning tomorrow and still win the general election.
Author Evan Barker joined me to discuss some challenges facing the Democratic Party. Part Two runs next week.
That’s it for this week. See you on Monday.
Beautiful tribute to all three! The Rocky Horror Picture Show saved my life as a nerdy, socially awkward teenager in the 1980s; I spent every weekend of the last two years of high school at my local theater's midnight showing of it. I'm still friends with a lot of my fellow misfits who also went every weekend, almost 40 years later. And I really think his performance affected a lot of people, even boring cisgender straight people like me. I remember the entire theater, including a lot of my very straight, very HUH HUH I'M TOUGH guy friends, enthusiastically shouting:
Audience: "Who's Tim Curry?"
Columbia, on screen: "MY GOD!"
Audience: "HE'S MY GOD TOO"
I grew up in a very conservative area, but, when I and my Rocky Horror friends had a reunion, about 15 years ago, it was surprising to see how many of them had grown up into liberal, kind, open-minded adults. I will never be convinced that hundreds of hours we spent with that movie didn't have an influence. The best kind of propaganda. :)
I was unaware Peter Cullen was the voice of Venger! Being a girl in the 1980s, Transformers never really caught me, but I LOVED the Dungeons & Dragons series.
And thank you, Dolly, for writing one of the very best songs ever penned about capitalism. A rich man's game, indeed.
I loved both Tim Curry and Dolly Parton and their iconic personas, and I was lucky enough to see both of them in concert. Dolly came to my home state in the 2010s, and her performance was magnificent! Curry sang rock-and-roll at a bar in my college town in the late 1970s, and I bought a ticket solely because his portrayal in "Rocky Horror Picture Show" had electrified me as a young, rural student who had never encountered any drag queens (or sexually open) characters in real life or film up to that point. In fact, I left the theater with work colleagues, after midnight and discovered my beat-up car had been broken into - window smashed - and my bag of restaurant work clothes were stolen (there was nothing else to be had). And, yet, my memories of that "Rocky Horror" night remain among my fondest -- all because of Tim Curry.