Roy Scheider, R.I.P.

I saw Naked Lunch before Jaws and The French Connection, so my first acquaintance with Roy Scheider found him wearing a fuck-awful tan suit and crunching on dialogue like Kellogs cornflakes. A terrific Dr. Benway, in other words. When I finally saw All That Jazz a few months ago, I was shocked by how compelling and, well, sexy Scheider was in this otherwise drippy example of mythologizing; wearing skintight black jeans and shirt, cropped hair, and a beatnik goatee, he was a grinning satyr in search of a film with his buoyance. I said elsewhere today that Scheider had an odd, perfect talent for committing to a project yet looking preoccupied, like his mind was home in his study, reading What Maisie Knew. His work in "SeaQuest" certainly confirmed this.