He never chased fame. He built something harder. For nearly seventy years, John Cunningham stood at the center of American theater and film, and most people never knew his name.

But the people who mattered did. Directors. Co-stars. Students. Neighbors. The ones who watched him work, night after night, until the very la…

He spent a lifetime proving that greatness doesn’t always stand in the spotlight. From My Fair Lady to Company, Titanic, and Six Degrees of Separation, Cunningham became the actor other actors trusted: prepared, precise, and endlessly curious.

On film, he gave emotional weight to fathers and authority figures in Dead Poets Society, Mystic Pizza, and beyond, grounding even the smallest roles with lived-in truth.

Away from the cameras, he poured that same care into his community, co-founding a playwrights series that funneled money and attention into arts education. Friends recall a man who treated every job as a privilege and every colleague as an equal. Holding his hand as he died was Carolyn, his wife of nearly seventy years. In the end, John Cunningham left what he valued most: a body of work built on discipline, generosity, and a quiet, enduring grace.