She began as a fearless young actress in New York’s Off-Broadway underground, chasing art instead of safety, trading comfort for raw, electric possibility. She moved through Andy Warhol’s Factory, lived on the fringes, then burst into the mainstream with a role that earned her an Oscar nomination and a Golden Globe. In Anna, she poured her whole life into the screen—its loneliness, its hunger, its bruised hope.
Across six decades and more than 200 roles, she became the kind of face audiences recognized instantly, even if they couldn’t always place her name. Yet in the end, it wasn’t applause but medical bills and frailty that surrounded her. Friends turned to crowdfunding to keep her cared for. She slipped away at 84, in Palm Springs, leaving behind a body of work that outshines the quiet, painful way she left this world.
