Broadway to Oscorp: Jack Betts, Spider-Man’s Henry Balkan, Dies at 96

If there’s one thing you need to know, Jack Betts chalked up a long Hollywood career and then quietly tapped out at 96. The Miami-born actor best known for telling Norman Osborn “You’re out, Norman” in Spider-Man died in his sleep last Thursday at his home in Los Osos, California, nephew Dean Sullivan confirmed to The Hollywood Reporter. Betts never made a fuss about health issues, so his passing feels like a final curtain call on a journey that began under the bright lights of Broadway.
Back when everyone else was figuring out brunch, Betts was studying theater at the University of Miami and snagged a role in the 1953 Broadway adaptation of Shakespeare’s Richard III alongside José Ferrer. A three-year scholarship to The Actors Studio followed, where he honed his craft before landing his first film credit in 1959’s cult noir The Bloody Brood. From there, he pivoted seamlessly between stage and screen, proving there was no niche he couldn’t inhabit.
The ’70s brought bigger projects, including a turn in The Assassination of Trotsky (1972), where he shared the frame with an international ensemble. By the mid-’90s, Betts was hopping into blockbuster franchises—Batman Forever (1995) and Batman & Robin (1997) both feature him rocking character roles that showcased his knack for memorable one-liners. But it was 2002’s Spider-Man that cemented his status: as Henry Balkan, he ushered Willem Dafoe’s Green Goblin–alter ego out of Oscorp only moments before meeting a grisly fate in Times Square.
Small screen aficionados also caught Betts popping up on iconic TV shows. He guested on Friends, lent his talent to my Name Is Earl and Monk, and even shared laughs with Everybody Loves Raymond co-star Doris Roberts—so much so that they were roommates and event buddies until Roberts’s passing in 2016. Their off-screen camaraderie remains one of Hollywood’s most unexpectedly sweet duos.
Survived by nieces Lynne and Gail, sister Joan and nephew Dean, Betts leaves behind a résumé that reads like a film buff’s cheat sheet. No grand social-media announcement greeted his exit—just quiet respect from peers who appreciated a performer who never chased the next big trend, preferring instead to let his roles speak for themselves.
If this classic actor’s legacy tells us anything, it’s that longevity in Hollywood is less about flash and more about quietly nailing your lines. Anyway, that’s the scoop. Carry on scrolling.
Sources: Celebrity Storm and The Hollywood Reporter, TMZ RSS
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