This past weekend felt exceptionally violent. First, a horrific mass shooting at Brown University in Rhode Island. Then another, even worse mass shooting during a Hanukah celebration at Bondi Beach, in Australia. Closer to home, my wife and I were returning from an evening holiday stroll at downtown Disney in Anaheim Saturday night, when we passed a grisly, fatal motorcycle accident on the freeway, which, as a motorcycle crash survivor, left me in a borderline PTSD state. Sunday evening, as we settled in to watch the new Benoit Blanc movie on Netflix (“Wake Up, Dead Man”), my wife got a news alert on her Apple Watch; actor/filmmaker Rob Reiner and his wife of 36 years, Michele, had been stabbed to death in their Los Angeles home.

This was too much. The final minutes of the movie washed over me like so much noise, as I listened in a stupor. Afterward, I was texting friends and family about the Reiners, as information was still sketchy regarding the circumstances. We wondered, given the Bondi beach shooting, if this was antisemitic violence, or even an attack from diehard MAGAs, given that Reiner was a longtime advocate for progressive causes. Then came the news that the person of interest was the Reiners’ own son, Nick, who had a history of drug abuse and mental illness. Don’t ask me how or why, but learning the identity of the person behind this hideous slaughter somehow brought a strange sense of relief–knowing he couldn’t harm anyone else while in custody. As monstrous as this act was, it was over. Now, the numbness and grief could settle in.

Rob Reiner’s Career Highlights

“All in the Family” was a seminal TV show of my wonder years, as it was also one of the rare TV shows that my entire family enjoyed together; from my European-born father down to my sisters and I. Reiner would play Michael ‘Meathead’ Stivic, the progressive, often annoying son-in-law to working class, right-wing bigot Archie Bunker–a prickly character made oddly sympathetic at times, largely due to actor Carroll O’Connor (1924-2001), whose performance allowed Archie to show glimmers of decency, which betrayed his irritable demeanor. I still enjoy occasional immersions into the series via reruns and DVDs. Though over a half-century old, “All in the Family” remains more timely than ever, given the current highly polarized political climate in the United States.

Another movie I discovered via a laserdisc rental in the 1980s, “This is Spinal Tap” (1984) marked Rob Reiner’s feature film directorial debut. The movie features Reiner as fictional documentary filmmaker Marti DiBergi, who’s tasked with following the tour of a fictional, semi washed-up British metal band called “Spinal Tap.” The movie helped pioneer the ‘mockumentary’ subgenre. While not a huge hit in initial release, “This is Spinal Tap” quickly became a cult favorite, and its all-American cast (Michael Shearer, Christopher Guest, Michael McKean) do a bloody good job as Brits (at least to my North American ears). A sequel came out this year called “Spinal Tap II: The End Continues,” which follows the geriatric rockers during another ‘final’ tour. I’ve yet to see this one, but as a fan of the original, I plan to, as soon as my current numbness wears off a bit.

One of my favorites in his prestigious film canon, Rob Reiner’s “Stand By Me” (1986) was the most uncannily accurate boyhood coming-of-age movie I’ve seen in my lifetime. Growing up as a kid in the 1970s and 1980s, I had a few boyhood school friends just like the ones in the film. The tremendously talented cast went on to varying levels of fame, though River Phoenix would tragically die of a drug overdose on Halloween night, back in 1993. That young actor’s too-early demise would echo that of his ill-fated character ‘Chris’ in the film, who’s killed later on in adulthood while breaking up a knife fight. That character twist lands even harder now than it did then.

Reiner’s “The Princess Bride” (1987) was one of those movies I’d watched fleetingly on a laserdisc rental sometime in the late 1980s, and I didn’t quite understand why everyone I knew seemed to quote it verbatim. Watching it again with fresh eyes in this century (and with our friend’s 11-year old son visiting), I finally got the movie’s gestalt, and became a diehard fan as well. Reiner’s longtime friend/partner-in-comedy Billy Crystal would play a memorable supporting role as elderly wizard “Miracle Max.” Crystal would headline Reiner’s next film…

In 1989, Reiner directed “When Harry Met Sally”; the most Woody Allen comedy never made, but with softer, more audience-friendly edges. Meg Ryan is pertness incarnate as Sally, while Reiner’s friend Billy Crystal (hot off of “Saturday Night Live”), plays cynical Harry, who doesn’t believe platonic friendships between men and women are possible. Both are proven right and wrong, as their decades-long friendship slowly morphs into love. I still remember seeing this one with my dad and a buddy of mine–three guys at a rom-com (which sounds like the title of another rom-com). Personally, I enjoyed the movie very much, even now, as a happily married man who still enjoys lifelong platonic friendships with women. It is possible, folks…

I have a complicated history with Rob Reiner’s “Misery,” a movie my sister and I saw theatrically while celebrating our day-apart birthdays in 1990. Over dinner, she encouraged me to read the Stephen King novel, which I somehow avoided doing, despite my enjoyment of King’s “Pet Sematary” and “Christine.” Four years later, I was hospitalized following a catastrophic motorcycle accident, and during my long recovery, I was itching for something to read… so my diabolically-humorous sister dropped off a hardback of “Misery,” which I related to more and more with each page. Reiner’s adaptation of the book is as good as it gets, and he really nails the characters of burnt-out romance author Paul Sheldon and his psychotically devoted fan, Nurse Annie Wilkes. Both characters are perfectly realized in actors James Caan (“The Godfather”) and Kathy Bates (“Titanic”). Bates was a relative unknown at the time, and she’d go on to win the Oscar for her performance in that film at the 1991 Academy Awards show.

Looking back at Rob Reiner’s colorful acting and filmmaking career, his senseless, violent death–along with that of his wife Michele–leaves a near-bottomless pit of loss in the cold light of morning. While I never met Rob Reiner personally, his performances and filmmaking influenced so much of my younger years that he’ll remain a vital piece of my generation’s pop art tapestry. And I’m sure his comedic and artistic gifts will be revisited by many generations to come.

Thanks Rob, for so expertly exercising our emotions with your talents. You will be deeply missed.

Rob Reiner, March 6, 1947 – December 14, 2025