The news of director Sydney Pollack’s death on Monday was a surprise to those of us who did not know he had been diagnosed with cancer only nine months ago. I always enjoyed Pollack’s work, which was often insightful and always entertaining. Some critics disliked his star-driven approach to filmmaking, feeling he could somehow do better, but I think he was a traditionalist and not an art-house director, and for me that was never a problem.

I also enjoyed the fact that so many of his films were built around the plight of a single individual, often at peril and facing tough odds, a predicament that made it easy for me and other film fans to relate to his characters and stories.

Pollack was topical, political, often socially relevant, and although he worked more as a producer in recent years, he leaves behind many fine and memorable films. Some of my favorites include his uncredited work on 1968’s “The Swimmer,” a brilliant existential piece starring Burt Lancaster; “They Shoot Horses, Don’t They,” a groundbreaking film exploring some of the darker corners of the Great Depression; “The Yakuza,” a little-known Robert Mitchum vehicle about the Japanese mafia; “Three Days of the Condor,” a political thriller involving secret government agendas, and a film more relevant today than ever; “Jeremiah Johnson,” perhaps the quintessential loner film; and “Havana,” an underrated update of “Casablanca” set during the fall of Cuba’s Batista.

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