George Brendan Armitage
Obituary

George Armitage lived the California dream and conjured Hollywood magic. Born in Hartford, Connecticut, he spent his early years far from the golden shores of the West Coast, knowing California only through sun-drenched postcards, with vivid greens and blues stretching beneath a sunlit sky. But in the summer of 1956, after a weeklong journey west with Buddy Holly, the Big Bopper, and Ritchie Valens crackling through the radio and his older brother Jed beside him, his family’s '54 DeSoto turned west onto Santa Monica Boulevard. At that moment, George saw the Pacific Ocean for the first time.

The country had unfolded mile by mile, but as the salt air filled his lungs and the sun warmed his skin, he knew, this wasn’t just a new place, it was a new life. Paradise was no longer a piece of cardstock. The dream was here. The dream was now. He was home.

He inherited his gift for storytelling from his mother, Hildred, a sharp-witted Irish writer whose humor could keep you laughing long after the punchline. That gift carried him to UCLA, where he majored in political science before immersing himself in film school.

It was under the golden sun of ’57 that he met Sharon, the love of his life. She was born and raised by the ocean, the very embodiment of the California dream. By ’62 they started to build a life filled with adventure, creativity, and love. And when they welcomed their son, Brent, the dream expanded, what began as a black-and-white talkie with mono sound transformed into a sweeping 70-millimeter epic in full Technicolor and Dolby surround.

After film school, Hollywood called, and George answered. When a friend asked how he’d break into the industry, he joked he’d knock on the mailroom door at Fox, and as fate would have it, they welcomed him in.

That first morning on the lot, he knew it was something special. He was in the mailroom, but like no great sports movie is really about sports, the mailroom wasn’t just about delivering mail. It was an all-day pass, an E-ticket to go anywhere, see anything, and say hello to anybody. The backlots were alive, a world in motion, and they became his playground.

Within eighteen months, he was no longer delivering scripts, he was helping make them, working as an associate producer on Peyton Place, the number-one show on television, under the guidance of producer Everett Chambers. But TV was just a stepping stone. His heart was in the movies.

Writing was the key. He filled legal pads and clacked away at a Royal typewriter, crafting stories that captured the essence of an era. He watched everything and he never stopped learning. He believed you learned more from a bad movie than a good one.

His first feature, Gas-s-s-s, caught the attention of Roger Corman and set the course for the rest of his career. In the summer of ’70, Corman was heading to Ireland to direct Von Richthofen and Brown and offered George a role in the film while he worked on his script. It was fortuitous for many reasons, chief among them, meeting the film’s publicist, Jonathan Demme. The two hit it off instantly, sparking a lifelong friendship filled with creativity, irreverence, and over 50 years of laughter.

Corman’s films, as George once described them, were like "little 45 RPM rock ’n’ roll movies," bursting with youthful energy and rebellion. That same energy defined his career. From the renegade spirit of ‘70s Hollywood to the cult classics and genre-defining films that followed, George’s career spanned decades of storytelling, always pushing boundaries and leaving his unmistakable mark on the silver screen.

From Private Duty Nurses to Miami Blues, from Vigilante Force to Grosse Pointe Blank, George brought his sharp wit, distinct style, and unmistakable cool to every project. He collaborated with icons such as Pam Grier, Kris Kristofferson, Bernadette Peters, Alec Baldwin, Gary Goetzman, John Cusack, Owen Wilson, Minnie Driver, Dan Aykroyd, Alan Arkin, and Morgan Freeman, to name just a few, always elevating the work with his singular vision. His talents earned him a pair of Emmy nominations and one win, a testament to the lasting impact of his storytelling.

Through it all, he remained an avid surfer, riding waves as effortlessly as he navigated Hollywood. From outsider to local, he embraced the unpredictability of both the ocean and the industry. He loved the Red Sox the way he loved movies, with unwavering devotion, through every high and low. But above all, he loved his family fiercely. He never lost his sharp wit, his generous spirit, or his deep passion for storytelling, qualities that will live on in the stories he told and the lives he touched.

George Armitage passed away on February 15, 2025, surrounded by his beloved family. He is survived by his wife of 63 years, Sharon; his son, writer, producer Brent Armitage; his daughter-in-law, Rhonda Sena, Ph.D; and grandchildren, Caroline Armitage and Nick Armitage.

He lived a life of stories. Did he leave a few good projects on the table? Maybe. Maybe not, but that was his way. Nothing’s funny for 130 pages. And he was always confident about when to walk away.

He would have laughed at the idea of directing his own story, but if he had, it would have been filled with heart, humor, and an undeniable sense of adventure. He would’ve asked, “What’s the poster?” The answer is clear as a bright California day: He was the poster. Thank you for all the love, adventure and happiness you’ve brought to so many. May the sweet ride of eternal happiness never end. Rave On!!

He was a longtime member of the WGA, DGA and the Academy.