I’m part of a generation that grew up appreciating Robert Redford, who passed away this morning at the age of 89, primarily through the lens of their parents. Specifically, in my case, through my mom, who I can remember renting The Sting for me and my sister when we were children, certainly too young to appreciate Redford’s cultural impact on a generation of moviegoers, but not too young to understand his movie star magnetism. That’s something that defies age.
Over the years, as my movie education expanded and deepened, I began to see Redford in a series of different lights. At times, he was the consummate leading man. At others he exemplified a particular type of American authenticity and charm. As he aged, he grew into roles where he played learned experts, passing on knowledge (and movie star bona fides) to new generations of actors. Perhaps most importantly, he was an evangelist for movies, the founder of the Sundance Film Festival, and spent much of his later life promoting and elevating independent film in one way or another.
He was also, of course, an important part of the watch community and over the years has been responsible for more watch spotting Instagram posts, articles, and podcasts, than perhaps any other celebrity. His Red Sub, to us, became an extension of Redford’s persona. It was as much a part of his image as the red jacket worn by James Dean in Rebel Without a Cause, or Audrey Hepburn’s pearls in Breakfast at Tiffany’s.
The difference with Redford and his Submariner is that it was his Submariner. It wasn’t part of a costume. And that made Redford particularly special to those of us who meet in the middle of the Watch Enthusiast/Cinephile Venn Diagram. There are so many instances of movie stars wearing watches that have been picked for them, or worn as part of a contractual obligation, that we naturally revel in the idea that someone of Redford’s stature is just wearing his Rolex casually both on screen and in real life.
Robert Redford, in a lot of ways, was the best possible ambassador for watches to the general public because of the effortlessly cool and nonchalant way he presented them. He was the antithesis of the modern watch celebrity influencer, because he wasn’t an influencer at all. He was just a guy with great taste. None of us can imagine Redford sitting for a YouTube clip where he shops for a watch collection under an arbitrary dollar amount, because the idea is preposterous. And yet somehow, simply through decades in the public eye and an uncanny ability to connect with his audience through his art, he’s influenced, in the truest sense of the word, untold numbers of watch lovers.
The key watch in Redford’s film output is of course the “red” Sub that he wore so prominently in All the President’s Men. Last year, Danny Milton and I spent a very enjoyable hour discussing the film, Redford, and his watch, for an episode of Time on Screen, and I’d encourage anyone with even a passing interest to give that episode a listen. I don’t know a bigger Redford fan than Danny, and he has accumulated knowledge of this particular watch that is of real value to the watch community. It was worn not just in All the President’s Men, but can also be seen in The Candidate and The Electric Horseman, three classics of 1970s American cinema (to varying degrees) that helped cement Redford as an icon to movie fans, and his Submariner as an icon to the small sliver of watch lovers among them who can’t help but notice the details.
Zach Kazan
2025-09-16 20:00:00