David Canary of 'All My Children'

David Canary, seen here in 2003, died Nov. 16 in Wilton, Conn. The Emmy-winning actor was 77. Credit: AP / Louis Lanzano
David Canary has died, according to reports late Tuesday. Per the press in his hometown in Connecticut, he died Nov. 16 at the age of 77, with natural causes cited.
The name may not immediately stir memories among average TV viewers -- soap fans, forget about it -- but the face absolutely does. A classic face, his was. Angular frame, wide smile, sloping jaw, mantle of dazzling white hair, and one of the best-known noses in all of television, possibly reshaped way back in the day when he played football.
Canary was also one of the truly iconic actors of the soap world, and became an icon at a time when soaps were a fundamental part of American life and culture, far from the diminished role they now assume.
He won five Emmys, played two characters -- simultaneously -- and was a core cast member on "All My Children," one of Agnes Nixon's later creations that was a sensation on ABC for decades before cancellation a few years ago.
Canary retired in 2010, but was associated with the show for much of its run. Of course, Canary's career long predated this. "Bonanza" fans will remember him as Candy, and going back further still, "Peyton Place" fans may distantly recall a dashing young doctor who cared for Mia Farrow's character, Allison Mackenzie. They never spoke to one another -- she was in a coma the whole time he was on the show.
According to some press clip I just came across, David Dortort -- the legendary creator of "Bonanza" who died a few years ago -- said he cast Canary because he was the sort of actor who comes onscreen and suddenly focuses the attention of everyone around him, and not just those sitting in front of the TV set. I checked out Candy Canaday's first scene on "Bonanza" -- an episode entitled "Sense of Duty," which aired Sept. 24, 1967 -- where he wanders into a camp in the middle of the night, demands (pleasantly) a can of peaches, and proceeds to ingratiate himself with the Cartwrights. In just under two minutes, an entire character was born: raffish, clever, manipulative, enigmatic, possibly dangerous, definitely interesting. He was someone you wanted to get to know better, and viewers would, for years to come. Dortort, as usual, was right.
Canary was a fine actor, and a good stage one too (much of his career was spent on the stage, in fact), but it was TV where this particular talent excelled. Initially, he was ubiquitous on TV, but ubiquity never lead to stardom and instead to typecasting. He was the "heavy" who came to town, and who left horizontally. His first screen role on "Hombre," also starring Paul Newman, affixed that bad guy label which never entirely faded.
Soured on Hollywood, he returned to New York and regional theater. But Canary also wanted a steady paycheck. New York was the soap capital of the world, and had been for years, dating back to radio, while Agnes Nixon and Irna Phillips were its commanding creative forces. Nixon's touch was almost infallible: That steamy melodramatic mix of family intrigue, self-destruction, of fortunes made and of fortunes lost, of generational squabbles that lasted generations -- quite literally on TV, as it would turn out.
To "All My Children" she added social relevance -- storylines about Vietnam, racism, abortion.
Canary would not join until 1984 -- the show had launched in 1970 -- and the producers had a little surprise in store for him. He would play not one character, but two. To make this more interesting, they would both be on the screen at the same time in some scenes.
Adam Chandler was the classic Canary heavy: The patriarch with the ruthless streak who bedded many women, fathered many children. (Kelly Ripa played one of them.) Stuart was his exact opposite: the Mr. Rogers of "AMC," a kindly, sweater-wearing, slightly dim-bulbed good guy who couldn't tell a lie if you threatened to break his arms. Lies came as naturally as breathing to his twin brother.
Canary is now gone, and with him, one of TV's classic characters -- two of them, in fact. The soap world dims, ever so perceptibly, yet again.
Most Popular
Top Stories



