Top six actors Lee Van Clee hated the most. Lee Van Clee was born Clarence Leroy Van Clee Jr. on January 9th, 1925 in Somerville, New Jersey. He was the son of a working-class family with Dutch ancestry. His early life gave little hint of the cinematic legacy he would one day leave behind. After graduating from high school, he served with valor in the US Navy during World War II, participating in missions aboard a mind sweeper in the Pacific theater.
His military service instilled in him a disciplined bearing that later translated powerfully onto the screen. After the war, Van Clee returned home and worked various civilian jobs, including as an accountant and painter. However, his path took a decisive turn when he was cast in a local play where his intense stage presence caught the attention of Hollywood scouts.
His screen debut came in 1952 with High Noon, where he played a silent, villainous gunslinger. Though it was a minor role with no dialogue, his striking appearance left a lasting impression. With sharp cheekbones, a hawk-like nose, and an intense gaze, Van Clee didn’t look like the conventional Hollywood star.
But that uniqueness became his greatest strength. Throughout the 1950s and early 1960s, he was often cast as a supporting villain in countless westerns and crime dramas. His characters were typically henchmen, outlaws, or icy assassins. And while he rarely had top billing during this era, his performances were always memorable.
Films like Kansas City Confidential, 1952, The Big Combo, 1955, and The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance, 1962, showcased his ability to command the screen even with minimal dialogue. Unfortunately, a near fatal car accident in 1958 left him with a damaged knee. And for a time, it seemed his acting career might be over.
However, the 1960s brought a miraculous second act to Van Clee’s career, one that would make him a cinematic legend. Italian director Sergio Leone cast him in the now iconic Spaghetti Western for a few dollars more, 1965, opposite Clint Eastwood. Van Clee played Colonel Douglas Mortimer, a steely, dignified bounty hunter seeking revenge.
His performance stunned aud.i.ences and critics alike, revealing a charisma and complexity that had gone largely untapped in his earlier roles. This marked the beginning of his rise as a leading man, a rarity for actors who had long been relegated to villainous roles. He reprised his on-screen chemistry with Eastwood in The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly, 1966, where he portrayed Angel Eyes, the cold-hearted, calculating bad character in Leon’s iconic triad.
The film was a massive success and secured Van Cleiff’s international stardom. Unlike many actors who might have faded with the fading popularity of westerns, Van Clee embraced the spaghetti western genre fully, going on to star in a string of European westerns throughout the 1960s and 1970s. These included Sabata 1969, Death Rides a horse 1967, The Big Gundown 1966, and Day of Anger 1967.
Each role further cemented his reputation as a master of stoic intensity and moral ambiguity. His on-screen persona was defined by quiet authority. He spoke softly but carried an everpresent air of danger. Unlike other western stars who relied on brash heroism, Van Clee’s characters were often thoughtful, calculating, and driven by personal codes of justice.
even if they walked morally gray paths. He became a symbol of the anti-hero archetype that came to define the modern western. Viewers respected him not just for his performances but for the way he seemed to inhabit his roles with quiet authenticity shaped by personal hardship and experience.
In the 1980s, Van Clee expanded his range with roles in television and action adventure films. He starred in the cult classic Escape from New York, 1981, as the authoritarian police commissioner Hul and took on the lead role in the NBC series The Master, 1984, where he played a retired ninja master. Though these later projects had varying degrees of success, they illustrated his ability to evolve with changing trends in the entertainment industry.
Lee Van Clee’s personal life was marked by a series of significant relationships, each of which unfolded during distinct chapters of his journey through Hollywood and beyond. His first marriage was to Paty Ruth Kale in 1943, a union that began during the turbulent years of World War II. At the time, Van Clee was still early in his acting career, having recently transitioned from his service in the United States Navy into the world of stage and film.
Paty Ruth, who became his steadfast companion during these formative years, stood by him as he began to carve out a name for himself in the industry. Together, they raised a family, welcoming three children, two daughters, and a son into their lives. The responsibilities of fatherhood and the demands of a blossoming acting career placed significant pressure on Van Clee, who often found himself torn between the rigors of film sets and the needs of his young family.
Despite their shared history and the years they spent together, the couple eventually found their relationship strained by the difficulties that can arise from life in the public eye. In 1958, after 15 years of marriage, Lee and Paty divorced, marking the end of his first and longest lasting marital relationship. Two years later in 1960, Van Clee remarried, this time to Joan Marjgery Drain.
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Joan entered his life at a time when his acting career was in a state of flux. He had experienced both highs and lows in Hollywood and was still recovering from a serious car accident in the late 1950s that nearly derailed his future in film. Joan provided a sense of emotional support and companionship as he worked to regain his footing in the industry.
This marriage lasted for 14 years and spanned a critical period during which Van Clee experienced a major career resurgence, particularly in Europe, where he found international fame starring in iconic spaghetti westerns such as For a Few Dollars More and The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly. Joan remained by his side as he achieved a level of stardom he had never previously known.
Yet like his first marriage, this relationship too would eventually end in divorce in 1974. The reasons behind their separation remain largely private, but it is likely that the ongoing pressures of fame, frequent travel, and the intensity of life in the entertainment industry played a role. In 1976, Lee Van Clee entered into his third and final marriage, this time to Barbara Havalone.
By this point, Van Clee had firmly established himself as a global star, particularly beloved in Europe for his commanding on-screen presence and unique features that made him a memorable and often intimidating figure in Western cinema. Barbara became not only his spouse, but also a constant and stabilizing presence during the later years of his life and career.
She stood by him during his final years of film work and supported him through various health challenges, including chronic issues stemming from his earlier car accident and lifelong smoking habit. Their marriage endured until his d.e.a.t.h in 1989, making Barbara the widow of a man whose legacy continues to live on through his legendary performances.
Her loyalty and devotion were evident in her continued efforts to honor his memory following his passing. And she is often remembered fondly by fans as the woman who was there for Van Clee when the final curtain fell on a remarkable life and career. Lee Van Clee, the steely gunslinger with the unmistakable presence, earned his reputation as one of Hollywood’s most unforgettable tough guys.
While he worked with some of the greatest stars in cinema, not all of those collaborations were friendly. Known for his blunt nature and non-nonsense professionalism, Van Clee didn’t suffer fools or egos lightly. Behind the scenes, he reportedly clashed with several fellow actors due to personality conflicts, artistic disagreements, or pure disdain.
Here are six actors Lee Van Clee is said to have despised the most. Lee Van Clee’s relationship with John Wayne was complicated to say the least. On the surface, both were towering icons of the western genre. But underneath that cinematic common ground lay deep differences in personality, politics, and professional respect.
While Wayne represented the all-American, flagwaving, studio-backed cowboy ideal, Van Clee carved out his image through grittier European-made spaghetti westerns that reveled in moral ambiguity and cinematic realism. Van Clee was a craftsman, a man who built his career from the bottom up, starting with uncredited roles and bit parts as villains.
He resented how Wayne, backed by powerhouses like John Ford, dominated the genre with a sense of entitlement. According to crew members on overlapping studio lots, Van Clee found Wayne pompous and dismissive, especially when the Duke reportedly referred to European westerns as cheap cowboy flicks. Van Clee, whose fame exploded in Sergio Leone’s For Dollars More and The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly, saw that as a personal slight.
Though they never co-starred, there were rumblings that Van Clee turned down a minor role in a John Wayne film simply because he didn’t want to be second fiddle to a studio puppet. In private, he referred to Wayne as Hollywood’s mascot and avoided any interaction with him on red carpets or press tours.
The rivalry, though never overtly publicized, was well known among Western insiders. Two, Charles Bronson. The battle of the brooding alphas. Charles Bronson and Lee Van Clee were often considered cut from a similar cloth, rugged, laconic, and intense screen presences who could carry a film with a single scowl. But Van Clee reportedly bristled at the constant comparisons and harbored an underlying animosity toward Bronson, particularly in the 1970s when both were at the height of their European fame.
The tipping point may have come when Bronson secured the lead role in Once Upon a Time in the West, a Sergio Leone epic that Van Clee had expressed interest in. While Leon had previously favored Van Clee, he chose Bronson instead for the lead. Van Clee allegedly took this as a professional betrayal and questioned Leon’s loyalty.
In later interviews, Van Clee subtly jabbed at Bronson’s wooden acting and once quipped that a block of granite could show more emotion. On set, when the two briefly crossed paths during overlapping productions in Spain, tension was said to be so thick that producers deliberately staggered their shooting schedules.
Despite both actors being stoic professionals, Van Clee considered Bronson’s meteoric rise an example of Hollywood rewarding style over substance which Van Clee trained in theater and method acting found insulting. Three, Clint Eastwood from protege to pariah. Perhaps the most surprising inclusion on this list is Clint Eastwood, the man who helped elevate Lee Van Clee to international fame.
Their work together in for a few dollars more and the good, the bad, and the ugly was legendary. But behind the scenes, their relationship was far more fraught than it appeared on screen. Initially, Van Clee admired Eastwood’s calm demeanor and ambition. But as Eastwood’s fame exploded in the 1970s, Van Clee felt discarded.
He believed Eastwood had used their collaborations as a stepping stone and then turned his back on the actors and directors who had helped him rise. Eastwood’s transition from actor to director further widened the gap, especially when he didn’t cast Van Clee in later westerns like High Plains Drifter or Pale Rider. roles Van Clee thought were tailor made for him.
Rumors suggest that Van Clee even reached out to Eastwood’s production company for potential collaborations in the early8s but was politely ignored. In interviews, Van Clee was diplomatic but firm. Clint’s gone Hollywood. He once said he’s traded in dust and grit for cameras and cocktails. Though Eastwood never responded publicly, industry insiders confirmed the coldness between the two legends was real. Four. Telly Savalis.
The eccentric showman versus the stoic gunslinger Telly Savales. Best known for his role as Kjak crossed paths with Van Clee during the 1970s when both were frequent presences in European crime and action films. Savales, with his flamboyant personality and ego-driven approach to fame, reportedly rubbed Van Clee the wrong way.
Van Clee was a non-nonsense professional who valued discipline and subtlety, whereas Savales enjoyed the limelight, often dominating sets with his charisma and unpredictable behavior. During a brief overlapping production in Italy, allegedly on adjacent sets, Van Clee was said to have walked off after hearing Savalas mock his acting style as stonefaced squinting.
Their personalities were simply oil and water. Savalas was the loud, cigar- chomping scene stealer, while Van Clee embod.i.ed a quiet, controlled menace. Rumors persisted that Van Clee refused any future offers that would pair them together, citing creative incompatibility, his diplomatic way of saying, “I can’t stand that guy.” Five.
Yul Briner, the ego with a cowboy hat. Yul Briner, famous for The Magnificent Seven, was another figure Van Clee held in contempt. While both actors had roots in westerns, Van Clee viewed Briner as too theatrical and too concerned with his carefully curated image. Their differences were aesthetic and philosophical.
Briner was smooth, mannered, and often aloof, while Van Clee was raw, grounded, and intense. Their paths crossed at several European film festivals and award shows. And though cordial in public, Van Clee reportedly found Briner arrogant and dismissive. A famous behind-the-scenes story involves Briner allegedly turning down a co-starring role with Van Clee because he didn’t want to share the screen with a second string gunslinger.
Van Clee never forgave that comment and often cited Briner as an example of Hollywood elitism. When asked in a European interview in 1985 about actors he respected, Van Clee notably omitted Briner from a list that included Henry Fonda, Franco Nero, and even Charles Bronson. That omission spoke volumes. Six. James Coburn. A clash of cool.
James Coburn, known for his smooth charisma and effortlessly cool demeanor, may seem like an unlikely target of Van Clee’s eye. However, the friction reportedly stemmed from Coburn’s casual attitude toward acting and his tendency to overshadow others with laid-back charm. Van Clee, who had to fight tooth and nail for recognition in Hollywood, felt that Coburn had sauntered into stardom, coasting on charm rather than craft.
A particularly sour incident allegedly occurred when both actors were considered for the same lead role in a European western. The part went to Coburn, prompting Van Clee to accuse the producers of choosing swagger over substance. The bitterness grew when Van Clee heard Coburn joke in an interview that Lee always looks like someone stole his horse.
Although the comment was likely meant in jest, Van Clee, ever the serious, prideful craftsman, took it as an insult. While they were never overtly hostile in public, Van Clee reportedly warned younger actors not to model yourself after Coburn unless you want to sleepwalk through your career. Though Lee Van Clee was a consumate professional on set, his strong sense of artistic integrity and disdain for arrogance, favoritism, and studio politics led him to harbor grudges against some of the biggest names in Hollywood.
Whether it was ideological differences with John Wayne, personal betrayal from Clint Eastwood, or personality clashes with Savalis and Briner, Van Cleiff’s list of Hollywood foes reflects not pettiness, but a deep commitment to the craft and a refusal to play the fame game.
In the dusty corners of cinematic history, these rivalries add yet another layer to the mystique of the man who was above all the bad and proudly so. Despite suffering from heart disease from the 1970s and having a pacemaker installed in the 1980s, Van Clee continued to work in films until his d.e.a.t.h on December 16th, 1989. He collapsed from a heart attack in his home in Oxnard, California.
Throat cancer was listed as a secondary cause of
