Malvincent seems to be the same star he has written for Virginia pilots for nearly 60 years.
He had dinner with Mitzi Gaynor, dated Bob Hope's daughter, and laughed with Andy Griffith. Debbie Reynolds calls him "Virginia" because his southern accent is soft and obvious.
"Mal's Movies" of Naro Expanded Cinema in Norfolk has attracted many movie lovers to listen to him introduce classics and live issues. He is a frequent guest on the WHRV radio show "HearSay" hosted by Cathy Lewis, sharing stories with that rich baritone.
Marr died in the early hours of Sunday, November 28, at the age of 83.
Malvern Fitzhugh Vincent was born on July 9, 1938 in Roanoke Rapids, North Carolina. He likes to watch movies and watch the screen feats of fellow Carolina State Ava Gardner (Ava Gardner).
His family wanted him to be a doctor or a lawyer, but he just wanted to write about Hollywood. He did this until his death. After "retiring" from a pilot in 2014, Marr became a freelancer and is writing a story about Mary Osmond's concert in Norfolk on December 13. He did not finish.
As a critic, Marr is unparalleled. His knowledge is encyclopedic, and he hopes his characters—especially local actors—are real, not tailored. Movie viewers trust his judgment, even if they disagree with him.
For several years, at the Oscars awards ceremony, Mal in "Aviator's Daily Holiday" wears a tuxedo, revealing his best film choices by inserting himself into a scene in the movie. The evening dress function became the favorite of fans of the year-and Mal -.
After working for two years in Burlington, North Carolina, Marr came to Virginia as a pilot in 1965. He was hired as a Portsmouth City reporter and film and drama critic. In a frequently repeated story, he recalled that when a fire broke out in the theater, he submitted two stories-a commentary and a news report about the fire.
Once entertainment becomes his full-time beat, he will devour it. Mal is a smoker and follows the actors during their smoking time and more one-on-one time. He loves dogs (his favorites are his Scots, Duncan, and Megan), and have established relationships with actors such as Renee Zellweger because of their mutual love for pets.
Although his role is too big, Marl is a private person, guarding his life story. His task is to write about other people.
In the spirit of Mal’s famous storytelling, we invite readers, friends and colleagues to send their favorite memories of Mal. We received a series of memories.
We know that Mar will be proud.
Earl Swift, former Virginia pilot journalist and columnist, Afton, Virginia
Mar is not working for money. In the years before paper deposited the income electronically in our bank account, his salary would pile up on his desk without cashing it out. Although he works day and night, he never works overtime. If the news editorial manager does not want to send him to a film festival or studio event, he will pay for it himself.
He will come back with stories-not only the ones he wrote for these pages, but also the stories he shared with the few lucky ones he could hear: advice he gave to one or another celebrity, his sneaky cigarette a genius, The insights he gathered in the company of celebrities.
"I've been to Montreal," he declared when he returned from one of these trips in 2004, "all the children there speak French."
We clung to every word of him. It’s no exaggeration to say: We recorded almost everything that came out of his mouth-years after most of us left the newspaper, we continued to send emails between ourselves, with surprise, admiration, and wildness. pleasure.
For example, the November 2000 statement: "Robert Redford and I-just an elderly beautiful boy, writing another."
Or this, when he finished a story in October 2011, he might have written one of six stories that day: "I sent this review to the world, like a blind child was sent Enter a room full of blades."
Or this challenge from 2002: "How do you know I am not wearing thongs?"
We are very diligent in reporting because I think all of us realize that even though he is the longest-running big name in the newspapers, and as a source of numerous copies every day for more than 50 years, Mal’s greatest story is Mal himself.
He is a character in southern Gothic novels-omniscient, sensual, snobbish, and like gossip. At the same time, his heart is very sweet, considerate, and terribly funny. His desk is a super fund website. There were more ashes and debris in his Cadillac than in the ruins of Pompeii. He sleeps during the day, works at night, and never cooks; he uses the oven in his apartment to store wine.
For such a role, he has a secret. None of us saw that apartment. His romantic life is a mystery. Does he have a group of friends outside the newspaper? If so, we did not meet them. In fact, is he wearing thongs? We can only guess.
However, his other quality is obvious: he is probably the most humble and self-conscious person I have ever met. As he talked endlessly in the story, he inevitably missed something. Take facts as an example. punctuation. verb.
He has adapted to these mistakes. In November 2000, he warned the world: "I think I'm going to make a mistake." A few months later, he admitted that sometimes when writing, he would look down at the keyboard and think: "Look at those hands and type. What are they typing?"
He is equally straightforward about his literary style. "Readers like clichés," he told us. "They make them feel comfortable. It's best to add clichés here and there. They are like plateaus of comfort."
We love his teaching like this. We like his wit, sense of humor and daily performance (because, in fact, he admires the audience like any Hollywood star he writes). We like that he recognizes his limitations. We like to work in newspapers with the last uncomfortable person who is good at books in an industry that was once flooded with them. We like that he loves what he does so much that he will do it for free.
Among his followers, I think I am particularly lucky: I have been able to sit next to him for five years. They are one of the happiest people in the newspaper industry.
Alli Pereira, Director of Public Relations, Virginia Arts Festival, Virginia Beach
Mal is a walking Hollywood yearbook. Our call always lasts no less than two hours. We would talk about what he was doing for five minutes, and the rest of the time he would tell me stories about himself, the actors or actresses he interviewed, some funny facts about them, and his travel story back to New York. The good old days.
One of my favorite stories he told me recently was about a friend’s youngest son, because I just had my own son. He proposed to take care of this little boy one day, what did he decide to do? Of course, take him to the movies! "Big mistake" is his next sentence. The movie began, and suddenly he saw a shadow running back and forth in front of the screen. He looked down and saw that the boy was gone. He realized that the boy had escaped from under the chair, climbed to the front, and was now running a few laps in the theater. Mal had to chase the boy.
Imagine seeing Mar chasing a child in that theater! I laughed and laughed and laughed. Of course, once Mal makes you laugh on the phone, it will only encourage him to continue telling the story.
He recently kept in touch with me about many events at the Virginia Arts Festival, and every time I answered him, he would cry and say, "Hello, Mama Ali!" Like many people in and out of our community, I will miss him very much.
Robert Morast, former Virginia pilot feature editor, now transformation and technology editor of the San Francisco Chronicle
Mal was tall and swayed as he walked, as if his feet were made of broken glass. His voice is an elegant southerner. The elegant voice evokes the charm of Lawrence Olivier. The clear voice reminds anyone who hears it that Hollywood is not friendly to southerners' stereotypes. Ava Gardner (Ava Gardner) has no bigger fan. Mar admired her because she was a native of North Carolina, she entered Hollywood and exited in her own way.
Everyone who spends time with Mar has a story about him. They are usually very good because Mar is funny. In a world where too many people are willing to fit into, Marr is a different person. He stayed up all night and most of the time. Although he hasn't seen a doctor for 30 years, and sometimes he only lives on bell pepper cheese and biscuits, somehow he still remains healthy. When I was his editor in the 2010s, he was amazed by his way of life. It's as if he cracked the code of how to live like a teenager in adulthood.
Everyone who spends time with Mar has a story about him. They are usually very good because Mar is funny. In a world where too many people are willing to fit into, Marr is a different person.
As we remember, these details will drive much of the conversation. We will talk about his phone, which may span the length of "Lawrence of Arabia". Or how he started smoking until he reached adulthood, because he needed something to help him stay up late so that he could review TV shows. There are endless stories of his interactions with celebrities.
The more I think about Marr, these stories often surface first. It's not just because of the star association. As a writer, he is very outspoken about his role as a critic. But his greatest contribution is as a reporter who can spend time with Hollywood stars. I mean, really, spend time with them, not just a quick interview in a room with more celebrity handlers than anyone else.
Through his charisma and tenacity, Marr successfully integrated himself into the lives of some of the best people in Hollywood, bridging the strange gap from the early golden age to contemporary stars like Kevin Hart.
When Audrey Hepburn asked to be escorted out of the media quarrel, he shook hands with her. They formed an indissoluble bond on the topic of dogs. When Shelley Winters came to her house with a bucket of ice cream (which, by the way, she requested), he accused him of trying to make her fat. When Marr pretended to understand the engineering of car engines, Steve McQueen softened by his side. After sneaking into Joan Crawford's funeral, he sat in the family area and was mistaken for her separated son. John Wayne expressed condolences for the loss of his family.
Mal wearing these celebrity encounters is like war fur, which is a life trophy that turns his obsession with movies into a career. He often shared them, such as telling Barbra Streisand that he could find the antique chair she was looking for, or how Andy Griffith would call Mal from the "Manteo Way" to discuss his latest movie reviews.
These stories are interesting, and his talent as a storyteller only makes them better. But this is not real magic. The magic is how he used these stories to bring us into Hollywood, making us feel one step closer to this magical realm, where the movies made by beautiful people let us temporarily escape from reality. This has great value. Mal understands this. He knows the power of movies in our lives. These stories about his "conflict with XX" are an escapist extension that the best movies can provide.
It's as if he cracked the code of how to live like a teenager in adulthood.
Marr once told me about his career: "Nothing to say. I go to the movies." This is one of the few times he underestimates an opinion or a story. He didn't just go to the movies-he also pulled us all into the movies. The mention of Jack Nicholson quickly reminded people that the actor spent a few days in Norfolk while filming "The Final Details." The conversation about Eartha Kitt keeps reminding people that behind her unique accent is a southern girl who grew up in South Carolina. Marr found connections with Virginia and other places as a reminder that we all have the ability to escape—whether it's spending a few hours in the theater or spending a lifetime in the pursuit of our dreams.
Mal was called a lot of things in his days, not all of them were free. But there is one word that is not used enough, and that is "caring." He cared for the people around him with a detached spirit of dedication. He cares about those who read his work or listen to him on the radio. A simple assumption is that he needs those audiences, which makes sense, because someone who has no ears to listen to his gossiping storytellers. But Mar really wanted people to feel the magic that the movie had ignited on him. He wants to let the world get lost in the miracle of the movie and its many stars.
One of the few celebrities in Hollywood in the past, he most treasured is Ava Gardner (Ava Gardner). Ever since I heard about Mal’s death, I’ve been thinking about how appropriate it is for her to welcome him to the other side. I hope it happened. If so, you know that he is already telling others his latest story.
I hope I can listen to it again.
Dave Addis, former Virginia pilot columnist and guest writer, Charleston, South Carolina
Mal Vincent and I had a 25-year debate on the merits of the movie Deer Hunter. He hates it. Growing up in a dying steel town I portrayed in the movie-including a wedding in Ukraine-I think this is great. I gave him a merciless tit-for-tat, and we smiled without giving an inch for 25 years.
RIP, my friend... and "Deer Hunter" is great. (Lightning from the sky may strike me at any time, because Mar has the upper hand now.)
Diane Tennant, former Virginia pilot writer, Milwaukee
Mal's desk used to be next to my specialty department. Because he works all night, he is ending his "day" when I start my work. He would come and stand by my desk and tell me all kinds of stories about celebrities, dogs, his youth, his newspaper career, his premiere trips to Hollywood, New York, and London. Interrupted by his humorous point of view or rudeness.
When he talked, when I took up the pen to write something on the notepad, he was always confused. When the featured department plays "Mal Trivia" during the annual holiday dinner, there are always interesting lines or some strange messages that come in handy.
He would say: "What are you writing?" I would read it to him, and Mal always said that I should write his celebrity story instead of his own quote, because celebrities are more interesting. I beg to differ.
Maria Carrillo, former editor-in-chief of The Virginia Pilot; currently senior associate editor of the Tampa Bay Times in St. Petersburg, Florida
When I came to Virginia Pilot in 1998, I was in my 30s, and my two new reporters were, well, old guys. One is a TV critic, she seems to be grumpy about having to work for such a young woman.
The other is a film critic, he couldn't be more charming. When Mal gave me his first story, he explained that it was too long. But don't worry, he lengthened his voice, his accent has been with me until today. "I wrote it. You edit," he said, allowing me to do whatever I think is best.
Mal is not an editor's dream. He has been writing too long. He said that he didn't have time to write short essays because he had too many works. He didn't pay attention to details, and even misspelled the names of celebrities he had written time and time again. He inserted winding passages and quotes. But he believes that his editor will solve all this, like a star who relies on her to direct.
In the office, he never gets tired of it. He will tell the story of his film adventures growing up in rural North Carolina and the stories of the generations of reporters who have worked with him.
We still laugh at his wit and his words.
I can't imagine a world without Malvincent.
Mark Mobley, former Virginia pilot writer, Athens, Georgia
A few years ago, around 2016 or 2017, I watched a classic Turner movie at my home in Wilmington, Delaware. It is a supplement. It is a short promotional film about the intermediary promotion of film studios in the 1970s. I don't know, "Logan's Run"?
In my memory, people smoked, drank, talked and ate, and once—oh my god—as important as life, Malvincent walked over and got close to the camera, somehow he didn't seem to notice the camera.
I haven't seen him in 30 years, and I haven't seen him since. However, I know Mar. Not very good, but is there anyone besides his closest person?
We started working together in 1987 until I left the newspaper in 1996. He occasionally appears in employee meetings, but I most likely meet him late at night or early in the morning. I will submit an overnight review of the Virginia Symphony Orchestra or the Virginia Opera, and then pass it when Marr comes in to write three or four film reviews and one or two interviews with movie stars. Me: 1. Mal: At least 4, about 6.
He is a geyser-like story fountain.
He is weird. There is an unconfirmed story. One day someone from the finance department came down and asked where Mal's desk was. I think it is as easy to find as the desk where I know him-full of newspapers and news kits. The financial officer asked to open the desk. There are dozens of unpaid salaries.
He is unreliable. He once submitted a comment or story about Frank Oz's film "The Indian in the Closet", calling it the "Indian in the Closet". He handed in a story about Oliver Stone and called the director Oliver North. Although I made serious mistakes myself, it still made me crazy, young and inflexible.
but. but. He is a geyser-like story fountain.
He is one of the last dying breeds: local film and cultural critics. For decades, Hampton Roads has been looking for Mal when deciding how to spend their hard-earned money on weekends. They know what he likes and what he doesn't like, and can concentrate on reading accordingly.
I must admit a serious mistake: For many years, Earl Swift and I have been talking about making a documentary about Marr, but never did it. Now the main topic has passed.
But he still lives in the decades of his writing, in the memories of those who have read his work, listened to his radio, and visited him at The Naro. He wrote about the stars—and he himself was an unlikely, unfathomable, but impossible to dim person.
"Goodbye!" This is how Malvincent says "goodbye" to you. Whether it's face-to-face, on the phone, or his podcast-short and pertinent. When it comes to his story, he is a Jedi master storyteller. What a fascinating life this man has lived for 83 years. More than half of his career has spent him fighting Betty Davis, meeting the Queen of England, hearing a secret from Gene Wilder, dressed as a circus clown, barefoot with Judy Dench Together, the wife was accused of stealing Shirley McLean's dog, and even gave Sir Lawrence Olivier instructions on how to express the "southern accent". He was always surprised how many people recognized him from the sound they heard on the radio. He likes this, saying that he hopes they will not be too disappointed by his "terrible beauty". Although he doesn't like taking pictures, when he does, he must take pictures of relaxed and happy scenes.
When I was producing radio and TV shows at WHRO Public Media, I started working with Mal. I was asked to make his weekly podcast, "This Week in Mal's World", which is a catchy name he came up with.
In order to make his "star encounter" more attractive, I was a little nervous. Well, it might be nervous. What can I add to his story and insights? Marl is essentially a critic, and he prefers the word to "critic". There is a big difference, and his audience knows this. So, I think he will criticize me for confusing his own creation. How can I pull it down? What do we have in common when we work together? It's simple, really: we all like movies and talk about them. This is how we got together, and it developed into a beautiful friendship.
When I first heard about Mal, I was a teenager who loved movies. I eagerly read his comments to see if this movie is worth my time or money. I often agreed with him until one day I, an avid Star Trek fan, read his comment on "Star Trek V: The Last Frontier". He tore it to pieces, and my love of hiking! How could he say that to my beloved crew member? But, as I found out that weekend, he was right. This is a disappointment. Now, fast forward 30 years, and Mal is sitting in front of me, and I'm making his podcast. unbelievable. I shared that memory with him, and he just replied: "I told you!" We have "worked" on the podcast together for nearly three years. It is really an honor to hear his story and share my story every week. I will edit his work to about five minutes, which is a major task, because our meetings usually last several hours. He told me that he liked my practice of "adding" to his story with music and film dialogue. We have become an award-winning team.
Although Mal loves other people, he is a private person. In the course of our friendship, I will see him soften and trust me. I also like his non-Hollywood stories very much: his life as a little boy who grew up in North Carolina, he took adventures and travels with his sister when he was young, his views on life and the people around him. Mar became my grandfather, something I have never had since they both died before I was born.
When I went to visit him at his house, I was amazed by the large collection of his signatures. We spent several hours looking at these precious possessions, painting the walls of his living room from top to bottom. Everyone from Charlton Heston and Tom Hanks to Meryl Streep and Judy Foster. Most of them are personalized, thanks to his interview and laughter.
Mal's other little-known award-winning achievement: he is the voice of WHRO's "Owl Ollie". Ollie is an animated character created for the WHRO Kids program promotion. Mal loves it! I am honored to be able to present Ollie the award in person, and I watched him carefully place it next to the precious signature on the shelf in the living room. I know he is very proud.
After I left WHRO and his podcast retired, we stayed close and talked often or had dinner together. As a side job, I will also host a screening in the local movie theater, and he will be there, whether censored or not. He knew I would reserve a seat for him, and even now, I will still.
Mal loves his puppy. His last Wallace passed away a few days before Marr's birthday. He was frustrated and was always thinking about finding a new companion. I spent that birthday with him. We spent a nice day together, enjoying food and talking at his favorite restaurant Mary's Kitchen in Virginia Beach. Last week we planned to have dinner together at Mod Olive in Suffolk; he always wanted to try it. I know he will love all the styles and souvenirs from the 1960s in the restaurant.
One thing Mal likes is quoting movie quotes in conversations and often ask me which movie it comes from. So for you, Mar, I have this parting-your film expert May West once said, "You only live once, but if you do it right, one time is enough." Well, my Friends, you did all this, and more. You are a giant, a legend, an idol, an original, but the most important thing for me is a gift. I learned a lot from you, Mal. I learned that great wisdom can be found in laughter and memories. When telling a personal story, you taught me, please remember that the most important role is you, the writer. Keep your interest, your audience will listen. I will maintain your legacy by continuing to share your stories and sharing my own stories in the way you taught me.
Mar, this time is your affectionate "Goodbye!" It's really your last time-it stings. Take a good rest, my friend, and enjoy those star-studded conversations again and again in Golden Hollywood Paradise.
Cynthia Carter West, Marketing Consultant, Suffolk
The arts and entertainment communities have lost our biggest fans, most ardent supporters, best advocates and friends.
On most opening nights of Broadway shows, or Virginia Arts Festival performances, you can count on Marr to appear in the audience.
I remember there were many occasions like this. Just before the opening, the question in the hall was, "Is Mal there?" And, just in time, he would rush there, and then "The performance can begin."
All art organizations can count on Mal to write preview stories and provide fair and honest reviews.
I am very fortunate to have a wonderful friendship with Mal. I will miss our conversation, his sense of humor and his story.
Mal is one of them. He loves his family, his friends and his career. Now the show must continue without him.
Rob Cross, Artistic Director, Norfolk Virginia Arts Festival
I have always been amazed by the breadth and depth of Marl's passion for art. Although movies, theater and Broadway are his favorites, he also knows classical music, opera and dance.
I will miss picking up the phone and telling him about the Harlem Dance Theatre coming to town and how he will share his story about interviewing Arthur Mitchell or let him know that we are planning our Igor Stravinsky’s 100th anniversary celebration and his story about the first time he saw Stravinsky’s behavior.
Hampton Road will miss this giant of art journalism and his true art friend.
Bob McCabe, former Virginia pilot writer and copy editor, Chesapeake
For several years, in the late 1980s and early 1990s, I was the copy editor of The Pilot and worked with Mal.
This is what I remember:
His time is strange. I usually leave the building sometime between 12:30 and 1:00 in the morning, and he often arrives.
When I had to copy and edit his movie reviews, I gradually compared this experience to unraveling a pot of spaghetti.
His writing is like anyone I have never met or seen since. When I had to copy and edit his movie reviews, I gradually compared this experience to unraveling a pot of spaghetti. His works are usually intricately intertwined with loose ends, overhanging modifiers, and lack of initial references, so that they are almost works of art in themselves. We are also afraid-and like-editing his stuff.
He is very kind and gentle to everyone. I will never forget his voice. Like Guy Friedel and George Tucker, he is one of the most extraordinary people I have encountered in more than 30 years of newspaper work.
Teresa Annas, former Virginia aviator art writer, Norfolk
In the late 1980s, I chose to work with Mal for many nights, often until the early hours of the morning. During the day, the room can be very noisy. Overnight, the writer can think-until Marr has finished his second story or comment and is ready to take a break.
He might start to say: "Have I told you to take his private car with Alfred Hitchcock..."
In the retelling, he will quickly accumulate momentum, with sparkling eyes and a smile on his face, relive his celebrity moments, which will always trigger another memory, another memory with no end in sight. Indeed, considering the timing, he squandered his amazing story on me.
You might say, "I have 10 minutes left in this part, and then we can do it", but he won't hear you. The only way to break his spell is to announce to go to the bathroom to rest. He followed me more than once, stopped outside the door, sometimes waiting for me to reappear! Thankfully, he found an audience who admired his classic film series in The Naro.
Mal and I spent the last late night at The Pilot in November 2014. When the midnight deadline approached, we were still sorting out newspaper clippings and souvenirs, ending our work.
Although newspaper obituaries are full of famous people from all over the world, for those who know and love Mal Vincent, for Norfolk, no greater star has disappeared.
The Naro Expanded Cinema is crowded with audiences of many generations. They are eager to enter the great classics of American cinema and listen to Mal's sweet, silky southern voice telling the old movie stars he knows. What will it be like in summer? and ... make friends? Surprisingly, he is attractive to people of all generations and makes watching movies such a warm and exhilarating event, as an alternative to multiplexed with violent or superficial summer blockbusters. A choice. His contribution to the charm and generosity of the film culture of Hampton Roads is immeasurable, although I would love to see the city one day put a star on the "Hollywood Walk of Fame" outside the Narrow Theatre.
Personally, when I directed the ODU-Norfolk Film Festival many years ago, I worked hard to lobby our VIP guests to award the annual Malvincent Award. Our first show was the actress Ellen Burstyn, who packed the Attucks Theater on the closing night and was a fan of Mal. Alas, the red tape of bureaucracy prevented it, but I still insist on this idea because he is always so kind and gentleman. Once at the Jewish Film Festival featuring "Goodbye, Columbus"-one of my father Arnold Schulman's films-Mar gave up the spotlight and asked me to say a few words about my father and the film after the screening. . I remember his commanding and gentle voice instructing the crowded audience to continue the discussion. No one left, but I was so sad that he had already left.
Want to share your memories of Mar? Visit our Facebook page and leave a comment.
Graveside Service: December 6th at 1:00 PM, Cedarwood Cemetery, 1100 W. 4th St., Roanoke Rapids, North Carolina
Memorial service: 10 am on December 11th, Naro Expanded Cinema, 1507 Colley Ave., Norfolk
Former Virginia pilot writer Fred Kirsch contributed to this report.