If he had ditched his bow ties and gone back to Hoboken in 1944, after screaming Bobby Soxers mobbed him in Times Square, he’d still be a legend. But Sinatra became so much more than that scrawny crooner.
An actor of surprising grace and range, he was compellingly watchable whether playing a raffish sport in Guys and Dolls or a doomed GI in From Here To Eternity. And the singer? Such relaxed perfection, the golden voice becoming more affecting and approachable as it weathered. He made dopey songs sound droll, strident ones stirring, good ones great, and great ones immortal.
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