Gary Cooper, the Unforgotten Hero

Gary Cooper became “Coop” again on Wednesday night.

A documentary that his beautiful daughter, Maria Cooper Janis, was determined to see made premiered before a black-tie, part-industry, part-social crowd at UCLA’s Royce Hall as a fund-raiser for the university’s Center for the Performing Arts.

The result was one of those rare, nostalgic, made-in-Hollywood evenings that brought out the late actor’s pals and co-stars--from Tony Martin to Cesar Romero, Jane Wyatt to Lloyd Bridges--and floods of memories. “Everyone called him Coop,” smiled Bridges. “Coop was a great guy,” said Romero. “They should have a few more like him in this business.”

Coop’s former publicist, Warren Cowan, was there too, reeling off stories about his client, who died in 1961.

Even Clint Eastwood, who tends to be anti-social, accommodated the prescreening media blitz--and seemed to enjoy it. Eastwood, who is considered to be sole heir to Coop’s unassuming style and power, narrated the film, “Gary Cooper: American Life, American Legend,” written and directed by Time magazine film critic Richard Schickel and produced by Turner Broadcasting Network. (No air date was announced.)

But, nope, Eastwood said he didn’t see the resemblance. “There have been people who have seen an analogous factor there. But I’m not objective. I don’t see what it is.” Long pause here. “Other than I’m tall in the saddle and I’m quiet at times.” A slow grin. “I never modeled myself after him. But I liked his work.”

Maria Cooper Janis, who with her husband, Byron, came from New York for the event, initiated the project and served as the film’s consultant because, she said, she wanted to expose a young generation of filmgoers to the scope of her father’s career.

Although Janis allowed that her father wasn’t much for publicity, she thinks he would have approved. “I think he would have been happy with this film we made. He was extremely private, but he could talk a lot if he wanted to. The ‘yup’ and ‘nope’ tag,” she added, “was greatly exaggerated.”

Janis also acted as honorary chair of the evening, while Ginny Mancini, Leah Superstein and Suzanne W. Zada were dinner co-chairs. The $120,000 raised will go toward meeting the Center for Performing Arts’ National Endowment for the Arts challenge grant; the goal is $2.25 million. UCLA Chancellor Charles Young said $1.5 million had already been raised.

The UCLA Concert Choir started the evening off with the theme from “High Noon,” perhaps Cooper’s most memorable film and for which he received his second best actor Oscar in 1952. The first was for his role in “Sergeant York” (1942). Cooper made 95 movies in 35 years and was not only considered one of Hollywood’s greatest stars, but also invoked a whole style of acting. (The documentary includes an emotional acceptance speech made by Jimmy Stewart at the Academy Awards ceremony held in April, 1961. He accepted a Special Academy Award for Cooper, his close friend, who was suffering from incurable cancer and died one month later.)

“That steadfast, marvelous, hero Coop,” announced Charlton Heston, who served as master of ceremonies. “I’d admired him all my life as a kid going to the movies.”

Rod Steiger, who worked with Cooper in “The Court-Martial of Billy Mitchell” (1955), defined the Cooper mystique as “a man who has a maternal quality women love and is a sexual dynamo.” Said Schickel: “It’s doing an awful lot and making it look as if it’s just behavior. You wouldn’t want to see Cooper do Hamlet, but he was extraordinary at making artifice look normal and natural.”

“He’d plant his two feet in the ground and tell the truth,” said actor Ed Begley Jr., who watched Gary Cooper movies on television. “You don’t see a lot of that, before or after.”

Indeed, as the evening proved, you don’t see a lot of personalities like Cooper. Heston recalled the days when Cooper held court at William Randolph Hearst soirees. And rare footage of home movies included in the documentary highlighted Cooper’s friendships with Picasso and Hemingway, moments on the Sun Valley ski slopes with his society wife, Veronica Balfe; even the love affair with Patricia Neal that shook up his life. “Coop was no angel,” suggested his buddy, Romero. “Heros are human beings like everyone else,” said Byron Janis.

Some of Cooper’s fans complained that some of the film clips appeared colorized. Coop didn’t need it, they said. He had a color of his own.