For more than fifty years, Paul Newman reigned as Hollywood royalty. With his piercing blue eyes, effortless charm, and a reputation for professionalism and philanthropy, Newman became an icon both on and off the screen. His Newman’s Own brand has donated more than $570 million to charity, and his legacy as an actor, director, and humanitarian remains untarnished.

But behind that cool exterior and diplomatic public image, Newman was a man of deep convictions—and, as recently uncovered interviews and testimonies reveal, a man who kept score. In his later years, the beloved star compiled a list that shocked even those closest to him: a private accounting of the seven actors he simply couldn’t stand working with.

For years, this “blacklist” remained a closely guarded secret, known only to his inner circle. Now, with new details surfacing from friends, family, and Hollywood insiders, we finally know the truth behind Paul Newman’s most surprising professional grudges—and what they reveal about the standards, values, and pressures of Hollywood’s golden age.

Why Did Newman Keep a “Blacklist”? The Values Behind the Grudge

Paul Newman’s reputation for kindness and professionalism was legendary. He was the actor who remembered crew members’ names, the philanthropist who gave away his fortune, and the colleague who rarely spoke ill of anyone publicly. So what drove this famously diplomatic man to harbor such strong feelings about some of Hollywood’s biggest stars?

According to his daughter Melissa Newman and longtime friend and director Martin Ritt, Newman’s grievances weren’t about petty jealousy or Hollywood gossip. They were rooted in his core values: preparation, professionalism, respect for the craft, and a sense of responsibility that came with fame. “Dad believed you owed your best to everyone who paid to see you, to the crews who worked long hours to make you look good, and to the craft itself,” Melissa explained in a 2018 interview. “When people treated acting like it was just about fame or money, it really bothered him.”

As Newman battled cancer in the early 2000s, those close to him say he became more reflective and candid about his career’s disappointments and difficult relationships. The list was a private reckoning—a way to acknowledge the conflicts that shaped his experience in Hollywood.

The Seven Actors Who Tested Newman’s Legendary Patience

Let’s count down the names, from surprising irritations to the one actor who drove Newman to his breaking point.

7. Tom Cruise: The Color of Money, The Clash of Generations

The seventh spot on Newman’s list is perhaps the most unexpected: Tom Cruise, his co-star in Martin Scorsese’s The Color of Money (1986). The film finally earned Newman his long-overdue Oscar, but working with Cruise proved exhausting.

“Paul found Tom’s intensity exhausting,” revealed producer Richard Zanuck. “Here was this young kid bouncing off the walls, treating Paul like he was some kind of acting god. Paul just wanted to do the work, not deal with hero worship and over-the-top enthusiasm.”

Cruise’s relentless self-promotion during the press tour irked Newman, who preferred to let his work speak for itself. Martin Scorsese recalled, “Paul came to me after one junket and said, ‘If that kid says how much he learned from me one more time while interrupting me to talk about his workout routine, I might throw him out a window.’” Newman’s only public comment: “He’s a very dedicated young man with abundant energy. Sometimes abundant energy can be abundant.”

6. Charlton Heston: Politics Over Performance

Newman never worked directly with Charlton Heston, but the legendary star of Ben-Hur and The Ten Commandments represented everything Newman disliked about Hollywood politics. As Newman became increasingly vocal about his liberal views, Heston moved in the opposite direction, eventually becoming president of the NRA and a standard-bearer for conservative Hollywood.

“Paul couldn’t reconcile the Moses he saw on screen with the man who gave those speeches for the NRA,” explained Newman’s widow, Joanne Woodward. Their political clash came to a head during the 1966 campaign season, when both men supported opposing candidates. Newman, campaigning for anti-Vietnam War candidate Eugene McCarthy, reportedly refused to acknowledge Heston at a restaurant where they were both dining.

Newman’s comment in a 1978 interview: “Some people confuse having played great men with being great men. I find that problematic.” The remark was widely understood to be aimed at Heston.

5. Frank Sinatra: Unprofessionalism and Disrespect

The chairman of the board himself, Frank Sinatra, lands at number five. Though they only worked together briefly on the disaster film When Time Ran Out (1980), the experience left a lasting negative impression.

“Sinatra would show up, barely look at the script, do one or two takes, and then just leave,” said director James Goldstone. Newman, who prepared meticulously, saw this as disrespectful to the craft. Co-star William Holden recalled a heated exchange after Sinatra arrived late, holding up production for nearly three hours. Newman told Sinatra his behavior was disrespectful to everyone waiting. Sinatra didn’t take it well, and the two barely spoke for the rest of the shoot.

Newman’s later comment: “Some people think talent excuses behavior. I’ve never subscribed to that view.” When asked directly about Sinatra in 1994, Newman replied, “Frank has a lovely singing voice.”

4. Marlon Brando: Wasted Genius

Perhaps the most surprising name is Marlon Brando, widely considered one of the greatest actors of all time. Newman and Brando never appeared together on screen, but they competed for many of the same roles. Early in his career, Newman was often considered “the next Brando”—a comparison that irritated both men.

Newman’s issue with Brando went beyond rivalry. According to Robert Redford, Newman was profoundly disappointed by Brando’s later years. “Paul told me once that watching Brando in his later years was like watching someone burn a Picasso for heat. He thought Marlon had been given this incredible gift and just squandered it.”

Brando’s notorious lack of preparation and reliance on cue cards infuriated Newman, who believed great talent came with great responsibility. Eva Marie Saint, who worked with Newman, said, “When he heard stories about Brando showing up unprepared, it offended his sense of professionalism.” Newman’s final word: “Great talent comes with great responsibility. Not everyone understands that.”

3. Steve McQueen: Ego Over Collaboration

Steve McQueen, the “King of Cool,” was often mentioned alongside Newman as a defining star of the 1960s and ‘70s. Their only collaboration, The Towering Inferno (1974), confirmed Newman’s misgivings.

McQueen demanded absolute parity with Newman: same pay, same number of lines, even the same number of stairs to climb in the burning building. He insisted his name appear no lower than Newman’s in the credits, resulting in the unusual billing arrangement.

Director John Guillermin recalled, “Paul found it exhausting. They were playing heroes who put aside ego to save lives, and off camera, Steve was counting lines.” Newman’s oblique comment: “Some actors see every film as a competition. I always saw it as a collaboration. Those two approaches don’t mix well.”

Faye Dunaway, who worked with both men, said, “Paul approached acting as a craft to be perfected. Steve approached it as a battlefield to be conquered. They were oil and water from the start.”

2. John Wayne: Political and Artistic Divide

John Wayne, the embodiment of American masculinity, was Newman’s polar opposite in both politics and acting style. Newman, a liberal Democrat, stood in direct opposition to Wayne’s conservative views, especially during the Vietnam War.

“Paul considered Wayne’s Green Berets film military propaganda,” said filmmaker Arthur Penn. “He thought it was irresponsible to glorify a war that was killing so many young Americans. Meanwhile, Wayne was calling anti-war activists like Paul unpatriotic.”

Newman also criticized Wayne’s limited range as an actor. “I admire his success, but John Wayne plays John Wayne in every movie. I’ve always tried to play someone different each time,” Newman told critic Rex Reed.

When Wayne won the Oscar for True Grit in 1970, friends said Newman was gracious publicly but privately frustrated. After Wayne’s death, Newman softened his stance: “We disagreed on practically everything, but you can’t deny he was an American institution. Sometimes institutions make you uncomfortable. That doesn’t make them less significant.”

1. Robert Redford: The Most Aggravating—And Most Successful—Screen Partner

The biggest shock of all: Robert Redford, Newman’s longtime friend and collaborator in Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid and The Sting, was Newman’s number one source of professional irritation.

The issue? Redford’s notorious tardiness and casual scheduling. “Paul was military in his punctuality,” explained director George Roy Hill. “He’d be on set prepared, ready to go at the crack of dawn. Then we’d all wait and wait and wait for Redford to show up. It drove Paul nuts, but he tried not to show it.”

Sydney Pollack, who directed Redford multiple times, confirmed, “Bob has a different relationship with time than the rest of us. He doesn’t mean any disrespect. He just exists in his own temporal universe.”

On The Sting, crew members gifted Newman a clock with all numbers replaced by Redford’s name—meaning it was always “Redford o’clock.” Despite this, Redford’s performances were consistently excellent. As Newman reportedly complained, “The worst thing about this kid is that he can show up three hours late and still be better in one take than most actors are after a week of rehearsal. It’s infuriating.”

Redford himself acknowledged the tension in 2015: “Paul and I were opposite in many ways. He was organized. I was chaotic. But maybe that’s why it worked. We got under each other’s skin, but we also brought out the best in each other.”

Newman summed up their relationship at an AFI tribute: “Working with Robert Redford taught me patience. I had none before. I needed all of it with him.”

What the List Reveals About Newman—and Hollywood

Paul Newman’s secret list isn’t just juicy Hollywood gossip—it’s a window into the values that shaped his career. According to friends and family, the list was never about petty grievances. It reflected his deeply held beliefs about professionalism, preparation, and respect for the craft.

Director Stuart Rosenberg, who worked with Newman on Cool Hand Luke, explained, “He might have had strong opinions, but he always separated the personal from the professional. On set, the work came first.”

Jessica Tandy, Newman’s co-star in Nobody’s Fool, said, “Paul had strong likes and dislikes, but you’d never know which was which when he was working. He gave everyone the same respect and attention.”

Even those who made the list respected Newman’s standards. Redford, informed of his number one position, reportedly laughed: “I’m honored to have been important enough to irritate him that much. Paul never suffered fools, and the fact that he still worked with me despite how crazy I drove him, well, that’s the best review I could get.”

Conclusion: Newman’s Legacy—Principle Over Popularity

The revelation of Paul Newman’s secret blacklist has sparked debate among fans and film historians. Should private opinions be shared after a star’s death? Does the list tarnish his legacy or deepen our understanding of his character?

Martin Scorsese reflected, “Every great artist has standards, lines they won’t cross, behaviors they won’t accept. Paul’s list isn’t gossip. It’s a document of his values. He cared deeply about the craft of acting and the responsibilities that came with it. The fact that he held even the biggest stars to those standards says everything about who he was.”

In the end, Newman’s list reveals a man of principle who valued professionalism, preparation, and purpose. He held himself—and others—to the highest standards, not out of arrogance, but out of respect for the craft he loved. Even Hollywood legends have their breaking points. And perhaps that’s what makes Paul Newman’s story—and his secret blacklist—so compelling.