Cogito Ergo Sum

by Cinda in Minneapolis

Homicide shocks, whether the murdered person was well known to the world or a vagrant. One human has stolen the life of another. Murder mysteries have fascinated me since I was a child, whether reading them or watching them on TV or in movies. I love shows about forensics and police procedure and true crime. You’d think maybe I wouldn’t be shocked anymore. But sometimes the news of a homicide has the power not only to shock but to stop time.

So it was for me with the news of Rob Reiner’s death, and his wife’s, by homicide, recently. I stared at the words on my screen, thinking that they could not be true. There must be a mistake. If anyone could live forever, it would be Carl Reiner’s kid, who played Michael “Meathead” Stivic, Gloria’s liberal husband, on All in the Family. Rob Reiner was the perfect Meathead to Carroll O’Connor’s perfect Archie Bunker on that TV sitcom that broke rules and forced America to take a hard look at herself and how Americans related to and treated each other.

While Rob Reiner continued working as an actor through 2025, his work as a director impressed me even more. I remember when This Is Spinal Tap (1984) came out and caused a great stir because Reiner had directed it. Who thought of him as a director back then? He certainly knew comedy, comedic timing, and walking that razor’s edge between comedy and drama. Movie‐goers appreciated Reiner’s attention and his care.

When I think of director Rob Reiner, I think of A Few Good Men (1992). I loved that movie, the only movie starring Tom Cruise (not a fan) that I’ve seen more than once. By 1992, Reiner had directed six feature‐length movies including Stand by Me, The Princess Bride, Misery, and When Harry Met Sally. The guy knew what he was doing. And he was lucky enough to get Aaron Sorkin’s screenplay adaptation of the play Sorkin wrote. It was Sorkin’s first screenplay and his first collaboration with Reiner. And wow. The writing crackled clear and smart. Jack Nicholson’s Col. Nathan Jessep personified arrogance, a smarmy domineering character. Reiner’s deft direction brought out a much different side of Tom Cruise, I think. Reiner wielded gentle control over his actors and set, and it showed in how the big stars performed for him.

This courtroom thriller confronts personal responsibility and accountability, morality and ethics, and the Marine Corps’ Code of Conduct. It would be especially relevant today. It asks the question of a Marine: when given a direct order that you know is illegal, what do you do? The way Sorkin threads the clues of this murder mystery through the fabric of Marine life at Guantanamo Bay, Cuba, builds up the suspense until it looks like the prosecutors won’t be able to prove their case. What happens next in the movie made me gasp the first time I saw it. And that was Reiner: focused on the people in the story, their unpredictability and their weaknesses, what made them tick, and how susceptible power is to hubris. And finally, a moment of comprehension and redemption.

I don’t remember when I first saw When Harry Met Sally (1989) but I know it wasn’t when it first came out in theaters. I remember laughing a lot when I watched it, something I rarely do with rom‐coms. But then, this movie wasn’t your usual rom‐com thanks to writer Nora Ephron who could make a telephone directory fun and witty. This movie is particularly famous for a deli scene in which Sally fakes an orgasm (I know, in a deli?!). I’ve wondered for a long time why the movie’s premise would cause such a stir—because someone finally put it in a movie? Because someone said it out loud? I don’t know. I’ve thought that I’d want to marry my best man friend if I ever got married. But apparently there are people who thought that sex would ruin a good friendship between a man and a woman. All I remember about the ending was that it was a Hollywood cheesy happy one. It was the only part I didn’t really enjoy.

Good luck finding director Reiner’s movies to stream at a reasonable price right now. Of course, the streaming services are taking financial advantage of the Reiners’ tragedy. I wonder what Rob Reiner would think about that? He knew the entertainment business—maybe he wouldn’t be surprised.

When I think of Rob Reiner’s legacy, I think of his humanity, and the impression, true or not, that he liked people and found them endlessly fascinating. What made Meathead and Archie Bunker’s prickly relationship so powerful was that these two characters were real. Reiner’s talent was to be able to bring out the humanity in the characters he played as an actor and the characters he directed as a director. Above all, he respected people with all their differences of culture, intelligence, and opinions. I think he wanted to understand as a seeker of spirit and knowledge, as a friend of mine would say.

Which makes his and his wife’s murders that much more unfathomable. As I write this, his son, Nick, is awaiting arraignment on first degree murder charges. While the media speculates and repeats itself ad nauseum because there is nothing new to report, my screenwriter self thinks about Rob Reiner, director, and wonders how he’d approach the story of a well‐loved and well‐respected couple who strive to contribute the best of themselves to the world, and their mentally unstable, struggling son—would he do the son’s point of view or the couple’s? What do they each want in this story? What do they each do to get it? What obstacles stand in their way? Are they each successful in getting what they want or not? What is the story? How would he want it to end? How would he bring out the humanity in this tragedy?

What’s your favorite Rob Reiner‐directed movie?