“He was a good man/And now he’s gone.” - M. Ward

There isn’t another American actor of his generation who was as successful, both artistically and commercially, as Paul Newman. Look at a list of his performances. Not many stinkers, and Newman somehow managed to stand out even in those that were, on the whole, less than good.

He was politically active and philanthropic in an era when it was hardly an astute career move to be so. (Newman campaigned for Eugene McCarthy to win the Democratic presidential nomination in 1968 and landed himself on Nixon’s list of enemies.) Unlike too many celebrities today, he demonstrated no interest in how his association with various causes reflected brightly back upon him. It was never a question of self-promotion or public righteousness. He was just going about his private life, making the choices that were important to him. Through his food condiment and sauce empire he helped raise $300 million for childrens’ charities.

Although Newman was consistently able to transcend his good looks, and play types across the spectrum, there was a particular persona he excelled at. Manohla Dargis, writing an appreciation in the New York Times, called it “the guy on the hustle who seems to have nothing much left but keeps his motor running, just in case.” Which seems like a profoundly American type of man, one that resonates with the often sad contradictions of its modern life.

At Friday’s U.S. presidential debate, Obama talked about restoring America’s reputation around the world, referring to a time when the idea (if not always the reality) of the country instilled hope and promise. In Paul Newman, the international movie star and the private man—self-effacing, intelligent, socially engaged, loyal—there was hardly a better projection of America abroad.