Reed Henry

Born in 1938, Henry Reed is an American film critic, journalist, actor, and media personality who has significantly impacted cultural commentary. After his education at Louisiana State University, he relocated to New York City in the early 1960s. His career began with writing about popular culture, art, and celebrities for various publications. Reed became a recognizable public figure through television appearances and acting roles in the 1970s and 1980s. He is particularly noted for his long-standing "Talk of the Town" column in The New York Observer, characterized by a blunt and contrarian viewpoint. Despite facing criticism for factual errors and disparaging remarks, Reed has authored eight books and maintained a prominent presence in media.

Henry Reed was born on October 2, 1938, in Fort Worth, Texas. His upbringing involved frequent moves across the American South due to his father's profession as an oil company supervisor. Reed's family background included connections to historical figures, with his mother's relatives reportedly linked to the Dalton Gang and his grandfather having been held by Jesse James. He pursued journalism, earning his degree from Louisiana State University in 1960. During his university years, Reed honed his writing skills by contributing film and play reviews to both the campus newspaper, The Daily Reveille, and the local Baton Rouge publication, The Morning Advocate.

Following his graduation, Reed moved to New York City with aspirations of an acting career, but instead found work in publicity for 20th Century Fox. He later transitioned into journalism, contributing to a wide array of publications including Vogue, GQ, The New York Times, and Women's Wear Daily, before establishing himself as a film critic. For thirteen years, he served as an arts critic for the New York Daily News, and for five years as the film critic for the New York Post. Reed's critical tenure also included roles as a juror at the Berlin and Venice International Film Festivals. His writing for The New York Observer, particularly his "Talk of the Town" column, is known for its direct style and often provocative opinions, which have sometimes drawn controversy and accusations of factual inaccuracies or personal attacks.

Henry Reed is the author of eight books, including titles such as "Do You Sleep in the Nude?", "Conversations in the Raw", "People Are Crazy Here", and "Valentines & Vitriol." Throughout his career, Reed has cultivated a public persona marked by his outspokenness and willingness to challenge conventional views, which has led to both admiration and criticism. His commentary has occasionally sparked public debate, as seen in his reviews of figures like Frank Sinatra and Marlee Matlin, and his remarks on films and actors have sometimes been met with strong reactions from the public and fellow critics. He is a member of both the New York Film Critics Circle and New York Film Critics Online.

“My mother came from a family of 10 in Oklahoma, her second cousins were the Dalton Gang. And when my grandfather was a little boy, he was rocked by Jesse James on his knee.”

“My job there was to write those puffy things about Elvis Presley and—you know—Fabian, and tell everybody how great they were when I wouldn't be caught dead seeing their movies myself.”

“Cleopatra came along and rocked the company financially. We were saving on rubber bands and paying Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton to float down the Nile while everybody back at Fox was taking salary cuts, and I was the first one to go—the little guy at the $75 salary, the most dispensable item in the company. I was fired.”

“a Woolworth rhinestone”

“his public image is uglier than a first-degree burn, his appearance is sloppier than Porky Pig; his manners are more appalling than a subway sandhog's and his ego bigger than the Sahara (the desert, not the hotel in Las Vegas, although either comparison applies). All of which might be tolerable if he could still sing. But the saddest part of all is the hardest part to face about this once-great idol now living on former glory: the grim truth is that Frank Sinatra has had it. His voice has been manhandled beyond recognition, bringing with its parched croak only a painful memory of burned-out yesterdays.”