Screen Legend Terence Stamp, Superman's Unforgettable Zod, Dies at 87

Olivia Bennett, 8/18/2025Hollywood mourns the loss of Terence Stamp, 87, a versatile actor known for roles ranging from Superman's General Zod to a groundbreaking drag queen in "The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert." His legacy as a boundary-breaking artist continues to inspire future generations.

Those eyes. That voice. That undeniable presence that commanded attention whether he was terrorizing Metropolis or strutting through the Australian outback in heels. Stamp's family confirmed his passing to Reuters, noting that his extraordinary legacy would "continue to touch and inspire" future generations.

From the moment he burst onto screens in 1962's "Billy Budd" (snagging both Oscar and Golden Globe nominations, darling), Stamp refused to be boxed in by Hollywood's typical character pigeonholes. That debut — playing a stammering sailor with an innocence that broke hearts — showed just a glimpse of what this East End boy could do.

But oh, how the tables turned when he donned General Zod's black leather in 1978's "Superman." That deliciously wicked performance ("Kneel before Zod!") nearly typecast him as cinema's go-to villain. Lesser actors might have embraced the easy path. Not our Terence.

Instead, at 56 — when most actors are settling into comfortable character roles — Stamp pulled off perhaps his most audacious transformation. Trading military boots for sequined heels, he emerged as Bernadette, the transgender showgirl in "The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert." The performance wasn't just brave for 1994; it was revolutionary.

His "Priscilla" co-star Guy Pearce captured the magic perfectly in his tribute: "Farewell dear Tel. You were a true inspiration, both in & out of heels. We'll always have Kings Canyon, Kings road & F'ing ABBA." (Honestly, has there ever been a more fabulous farewell?)

The journey from London's working-class East End to global stardom reads like something from a vintage Hollywood script. The son of a tugboat crewman, young Terence started as an electrician in West End theaters — perhaps the perfect vantage point to study the craft he'd later master. A scholarship to Webber Douglas Academy changed everything, landing him in a social circle with future legends Michael Caine and Peter O'Toole.

Through six decades, Stamp worked with cinema's finest — Olivier, Fellini, Soderbergh — bringing that trademark intensity to every role. Whether crafting art house masterpieces with Pasolini or playing in the "Star Wars" sandbox, he approached each character with the same psychological depth and commitment.

"From 'Billy Budd' to 'The Limey,' no actor could ask for more," he mused while filming with Soderbergh in '99. How perfectly Stamp-like to downplay a career that spanned from classic cinema to modern blockbusters, from villains to heroes, from machismo to magnificent drag.

As Hollywood processes this loss, Stamp's legacy feels more vital than ever — a reminder that true artists don't just cross boundaries, they demolish them with style. Darlings, they simply don't make them like Terence anymore.

Hollywood's luminaries are mourning the loss of one of their most dazzling stars. Terence Stamp — that mesmerizing British actor with the piercing blue eyes who could transform from Superman's most formidable foe to a sequin-clad drag queen — took his final bow Sunday morning at 87.Those eyes. That voice. That undeniable presence that commanded attention whether he was terrorizing Metropolis or strutting through the Australian outback in heels. Stamp's family confirmed his passing to Reuters, noting that his extraordinary legacy would "continue to touch and inspire" future generations.From the moment he burst onto screens in 1962's "Billy Budd" (snagging both Oscar and Golden Globe nominations, darling), Stamp refused to be boxed in by Hollywood's typical character pigeonholes. That debut — playing a stammering sailor with an innocence that broke hearts — showed just a glimpse of what this East End boy could do.But oh, how the tables turned when he donned General Zod's black leather in 1978's "Superman." That deliciously wicked performance ("Kneel before Zod!") nearly typecast him as cinema's go-to villain. Lesser actors might have embraced the easy path. Not our Terence.Instead, at 56 — when most actors are settling into comfortable character roles — Stamp pulled off perhaps his most audacious transformation. Trading military boots for sequined heels, he emerged as Bernadette, the transgender showgirl in "The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert." The performance wasn't just brave for 1994; it was revolutionary.His "Priscilla" co-star Guy Pearce captured the magic perfectly in his tribute: "Farewell dear Tel. You were a true inspiration, both in & out of heels. We'll always have Kings Canyon, Kings road & F'ing ABBA." (Honestly, has there ever been a more fabulous farewell?)The journey from London's working-class East End to global stardom reads like something from a vintage Hollywood script. The son of a tugboat crewman, young Terence started as an electrician in West End theaters — perhaps the perfect vantage point to study the craft he'd later master. A scholarship to Webber Douglas Academy changed everything, landing him in a social circle with future legends Michael Caine and Peter O'Toole.Through six decades, Stamp worked with cinema's finest — Olivier, Fellini, Soderbergh — bringing that trademark intensity to every role. Whether crafting art house masterpieces with Pasolini or playing in the "Star Wars" sandbox, he approached each character with the same psychological depth and commitment."From 'Billy Budd' to 'The Limey,' no actor could ask for more," he mused while filming with Soderbergh in '99. How perfectly Stamp-like to downplay a career that spanned from classic cinema to modern blockbusters, from villains to heroes, from machismo to magnificent drag.As Hollywood processes this loss, Stamp's legacy feels more vital than ever — a reminder that true artists don't just cross boundaries, they demolish them with style. Darlings, they simply don't make them like Terence anymore.