Sam Panopoulos, inventor of the Hawaiian pizza option.

Always dug her in anything I saw her in, though since I've been on a Lynch kick of late, I'd like to recommend her performance in the Hotel Room segment "Tricks " as a stoned prostitute who suddenly realizes what a fucked up psychological maelstrom she has entered with Harry Dean Stanton and Freddie Jones.

I actually had no idea the inventor of Hawaiian pizza was Canadian. Makes sense.

Peter Bondanella, whose book A History of Italian Cinema remains my favourite single-volume survey of the subject at least three decades after I first read it.

Yeah a terrific book I've read a few times and that's really helped guide my exploration of Italian cinema.

Unfortunate, I don't think that was expected. Still waiting for a decent release of A Degree of Murder.

Alexey Batalov, russian actor. Among films - The Cranes Are Flying (1957), The Lady with the Little Dog (1960), Nine Days of One Year (1962), The Flight (1971), Moscow Does Not Believe in Tears (1980).

John G Avildsen

Didn't realize he directed both Rocky and Rocky V. What a combo.

Stephen Furst

Last night I was watching some old Dream On episodes and Stephen Furst had a small role in one. He plays an actor who complains to his agent about being typecast as a pathetic loser. The joke is that he's playing Martin Tupper (the star of Dream On), who's standing next to him during this phone rant about getting pathetic roles.

In the episode, they're making a film about Tupper's ex-wife's super-impressive 2nd husband, Richard. Martin falls for the actress who plays his ex-wife Judith, who then leaves him for the actor playing Richard -- as the same fate happens again to Martin Tupper. David Bowie plays the director of the film, who delights in being cruel. And for this one hour Dream On, they pull out all sorts of stars -- Mimi Rogers, Tom Berenger, a Sly Stallone cameo, Eva Gabor as well, etc. But it was nice to see Furst, who gets to vent a little about the type of schlub roles he usually gets.

Memorist Margaux Fragoso at 38. I wasn't familiar with her sole work, Tiger, Tiger, but based on these reviews, I'm unlikely to change that

Hank Deutschendorf, baby Oscar from Ghostbusters II.

Geri Allen, wonderful jazz pianist and educator. Much of her best playing is actually on other jazz artists' albums, but one excellent exception is The Life of a Song.

Hope Ryden. In 1961, she joined Robert Drew & Associates where she and her colleagues were in the vanguard of cinéma vérité filmmaking.

Today, her best-known work may be something that wasn't even seen for decades. In 1965, she and her production team, including the cinematographer Abbot Mills, immersed themselves in the lives of Richard and Mildred Loving, the Virginia couple who challenged the state’s law against interracial marriage. It became a landmark U.S. Supreme Court case, but unfortunately, broadcasters wouldn't show her footage. Luckily she saved it and nearly 50 years later, it saw the light of day when it was incorporated into Nancy Buirski's documentary on that story. (The same story was later made into a narrative feature by Jeff Nichols.)

He felt like the UK equivalent of Roger Ebert to me, in the sense that he was the weekly pre-internet source of film reviews and news during my filmgoing coming of age in the 90s up to his retirement in 1998 (I also remember that show with fondness for the way it would always show the clips from films in their proper widescreen ratios! That more than anything normalised the idea of films being shown in their correct aspect ratios, I think).

Here's Mr Norman's 'infamous' 1997 Cannes meet up with the Spice Girls to promote their movie! (I think that combined with making Bruce Willis grumpy by refusing to take Armageddon seriously was the early sign of Barry's departure!)

We also shouldn't forget that Barry Norman's father was Leslie Norman, director of the original 1958 version of Dunkirk (i.e. the film that Christopher Nolan's remake has to live up to!) and the great Hammer sci-fi horror X The Unknown (as well as quite a few episodes of The Saint)

Barry Norman was of course very much a national figure in his heyday - in the 1970s particularly, he was the BBC's film equivalent of David Attenborough, much parodied and imitated by impressionists like Mike Yarwood and (later) Rory Bremner, who drew on characteristics like Norman's crow's feet, his thumb gestures and catchphrase "And why not?"

I was never very interested in his reviews of new films and when he wrote about films on TV for Radio Times it always seemed penny-in-the-slot criticism, favouring popular classics. His TV presentation style usually felt curiously stilted to me, as if he was reading a script written with little thought of how it might have sounded when delivered verbally.

For me, his most memorable achievements are the documentary series The Hollywood Greats (1977-79), The British Greats (1980) and Talking Pictures (1988 - unofficially taking over where Brownlow's Hollywood finished with the coming of sound). Although they were often as superficial as his film criticism, they did secure many filmed interviews with key figures of the studio era. For that reason at least, they deserve a repeat.

A nice tribute from Peter Bradshaw. I agree with the assessment but I want to add a couple of things to this section:

I'd argue that UK audiences at the time did need that US box office countdown, especially in pre-internet times where that information was scarce and there was a frisson of excitement in seeing an 'early' trailer for a film that would be arriving in the UK three to six months later. It might not have been of practical use, but it helped to feel more in touch with what was going on at the moment rather than always playing catch up!

Barry Norman didn't really master social media, but he did have a regular job doing a weekly review in the 'old media' - the film section of the BBC's Radio Times television listings magazine. He might not have been the most adventurous type but as times moved on he ended up almost by accident championing 'classic' (i.e. black and white) films in a way that nobody else was in a position to, and giving a push to a curious viewer to look into a screening. Looking back over the last few weeks of articles, he did a piece on a showing of I'm All Right Jack (on that Talking Pictures TV channel) and The Blue Lamp (on TCM). They're not particularly deep, and its true that he never really wrote about any particularly obscure film, but I'd argue that he still performed a much appreciated job of keeping those films alive and talked about in a mainstream publication.

Miriam Marx daughter of Groucho died last week. She was 90. She authored the book "Love, Groucho: Letters From Groucho Marx To His Daughter Miriam."