It's of its time, and I don't know if it ever rises above that status. As I watched, I couldn't help but think of One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, another book adapted into a film that seems to reflect the worldview of the sixties counterculture. In both stories, the central figures of rebellion are cyphers to a degree, and that's what makes Newman's performance so remarkable; based on the dialogue and action, it's hard to imagine much of the details in his work appearing on the page.

He fills Luke with everything, and yet with not much at all; in his obituary for Newman, Roger Ebert pulls the perfect line from Cool Hand Luke, spoken by Dragline (George Kennedy) in reference to Newman's character: "You wild, beautiful thing. You crazy handful of nothin'." Newman's Luke truly is a "crazy handful of nothin'," in the sense that we never really get much beyond his veneer of rebellion and attitude. Luke's response to that comment, "Sometimes, nothing can be a really cool hand," speaks volumes too; there's something unmistakably cool about Luke, and Newman himself.

But it's hard to imagine exactly what Luke's rebelling against, not that he needs a reason. Maybe his quest for a reason is what does him in; there's a scene near the film's end set in an abandoned church, where Luke pleads with God to somehow, someway, justify the directions his life has taken: "You made me like I am. Now just where am I supposed to fit in?" Luke never really finds out, and neither do we.

Sometimes, nothing is a pretty cool hand. At the right moment, a blank canvas can be potent art by itself; devoid of image and meaning, it's not just what it is, but whatever you want it to be. That's Cool Hand Luke, for better or worse, and for creating that blank canvas, Newman will justly be remembered for many years to come.