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In 1939, right before World War 2 transformed the movie industry and the world, Hollywood produced the most copious output of outstanding films in a single year, titles that endure to this day.

The first time I remember seeing Anthony Quinn onscreen was in 1961’s “The Guns of Navarone.” This World War 2 adventure film remains a personal favorite, and though it features solid performances from Gregory Peck and David Niven, it was Quinn who stood out for me.

In this relatively enlightened age, it’s horrifying to consider how gay people were treated by society just half a century ago. Back then, being closeted was not an option but a necessity. As the 1960s dawned, homosexuality was still deemed an illness and a crime across the globe. Those caught and convicted often went to prison, and then were ostracized, their lives ruined.

Reading about Jane Fonda, you quickly recognize that there’s enough incident and achievement in her 78 years to fill three lives. She was in fact famous for three things: acting, activism, and launching the fitness craze that’s helped countless baby boomers stay fit and healthy into their senior years.

He was not the most exciting, dynamic star of his day. He had a casual air, a matter-of-fact delivery, and looked like a Regular Joe: tall, nice looking, but hardly sexy. He never took an acting lesson, and was never nominated for an Oscar.

Growing up in the early ‘60s, I had a huge crush on Donna Reed. I know I wasn’t alone. In those pre-feminist days, she seemed to my young, impressionable eyes like the perfect wife and mother. Yes, she was beautiful, but there was much more to her than that. She projected an inner calm and wisdom. You sensed strength and principle beyond her dazzling smile. She was no pushover. You loved her, but you also respected her. You didn’t mess with Donna Reed.

If the stunningly talented, charismatic Barbara Stanwyck was hurt by not having picked up that coveted statuette over the course of four Best Actress nominations, she never showed it. And she wouldn’t have. She was too tough and too proud for that. And yes, I mean that as a compliment.

I vividly recall seeing Robert Redford on the streets of New York City at the height of his stardom in the early seventies, moving quickly but unfettered by security. I called to him once from across the street (what did I have to lose?). He looked over, waved at me and said: “Hello!” My week was made.

While her eighty-first birthday gives us ample reason to pay tribute to the ever-fabulous Julie Andrews, it’s fitting to celebrate her any old time. Consider first the joy and wonder she brought to millions of viewers, young and old, in her portrayals of Mary Poppins and Maria Von Trapp.