Tributes to TONY SEINIGER, TONY STELLA, and MARCIA LUCAS

May has been a heartbreaking month for cinema lovers, as we lost three extraordinary individuals whose work helped shape, define, and elevate the golden age of modern movie-making. Whether slicing film stock to find the human heart of a massive space opera, creating the psychological blueprint for classic marketing campaigns, or revitalizing the lost art of the illustrated poster in the 21st century, these three creators left an indelible mark on how we look at the movies.

Tony Seiniger (1938–2026)

It was just a few months ago (and feels like only yesterday) that I interviewed Tony for the Amsel documentary. I had been in contact with him for some time, and while I had preferred to film the interview personally, our conflicting schedules and the prohibitive travel costs made face-to-face filming infeasible. So when I proposed the remote interview option to Tony, he kindly agreed – and thank God.

Often called the "Godfather of Movie Advertising," graphic designer and marketer Tony Seiniger passed away on May 11 at the age of 87. If you fell in love with a movie in the 1970s, 80s, or 90s, chances are it was because of a conceptual seed planted by Seiniger Advertising. Perhaps his most legendary work came when he adapted Roger Kastel’s book-cover painting for Steven Spielberg's Jaws (1975), creating a terrifyingly simple piece of key art that became a cultural phenomenon.

Seiniger was famous for collaborating with and championing legendary illustrators like Drew Struzan and Dan Goozee. His agency masterminded the campaigns for One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, The Rocky Horror Picture Show, The Breakfast Club, Ferris Bueller's Day Off, Field of Dreams, and Total Recall. In 1998, he rightfully received the Key Art Awards Lifetime Achievement Award. He also worked with Richard Amsel on the poster for Robert Benton’s delightful crime caper, The Late Show.

My sincere condolences go out to Tony’s family and friends, and particularly his son, Thomas, who is a notable designer himself.

However brief my interaction was with the man, I’ll always be grateful for it.

Tony Stella (1981–2026)

Tony Stella, a prolific illustrator and poster artist, passed away May 1^st at the young age of 45.

News of his passing especially hurt, as not only was he so young, but he and I had been in contact through social media for a while, and he was a big supporter of my Amsel project.

If you’re not familiar with Stella’s name, you’ve certainly seen his work. He was the new rising star in poster illustration, and his creative output the last few years alone was absolutely staggering.

Working with striking ink washes, watercolors, acrylics, oils, and bold brushwork, Stella’s art felt deeply alive, capturing the textured, analog spirit of the 1970s masters. He was intensely obsessed with cinema, and that obsession translated into stunning official and alternative poster designs for Criterion collection releases, Janus Films, and contemporary filmmakers.

Stella’s particular magic was that his work, while evocative of poster art from the past, was made in a style very much his own. And as greatly as he admired them, Stella was no Drew Struzan or Richard Amsel clone – a fact that some actually took issue with when Stella’s final poster design for Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny was released in 2023. Many fans apparently wanted more of the same, while Stella’s art went in a very different direction.

I publicly defended Stella’s work, which initiated a friendly, ongoing correspondence between us. I often told him of my great admiration (and, admittedly, intense jealousy) of his art and creative output.

“How the fuck do you do that much, that fast, and that well?” I asked him. I explained that I had virtually given up on my own art a long time ago, feeling increasingly inadequate and insecure in the face of crippling artist’s block and health issues. (Diabetes puts frequent strain on my eyes, and now causes my left hand to shake.)

To this, Stella was compassionate and encouraging. All artists, even the best, have their own insecurities, he said. And though Indy V brought his work to the global stage, the experience, he found, was rather soul-crushing and bittersweet. That kind of personal candor meant a lot to me.

With the news of Stella’s death, I was rather shocked to realize I didn’t even know what the man looked like. Photos of him online proved elusive. It even took me a few weeks before I could confirm his exact age, or find substantiated details of his death. (Stella reportedly died in his sleep from a stroke.)

Like Richard Amsel before him, Tony Stella was an artist we lost far too young, and too soon. And, like Amsel, perhaps it was by his own design that he remains something of an enigma – wanting his art to speak for itself.

And what art! Stella cultivated a massive online community of fellow film lovers, constantly sharing his appreciation for classic poster history. His untimely passing leaves a massive void in the illustration world, but he proved to a new generation that movie art is a profound extension of the filmmaking itself. I shall miss him, and will forever regret that we never had the opportunity to meet in person.

Marcia Lucas (1945–2026)

Oscar-winning film editor Marcia Lucas passed away on May 27 at the age of 80 after a courageous battle with metastatic cancer. While history books often focus heavily on her ex-husband George Lucas, the global filmmaking community knows that Marcia was the secret weapon who gave the original Star Wars trilogy its rhythm, pacing, and soul.

Marcia was an absolute trailblazer for women in film during the "New Hollywood" boom of the 1970s. She possessed a rare emotional intelligence that allowed her to look at a chaotic mountain of raw footage and instantly find the dramatic truth of a scene. Nowhere was this more evident than in the climactic Death Star trench run in Star Wars (1977)—a sequence she meticulously pieced together out of fragments to construct world-class cinematic tension, earning her the Academy Award for Best Film Editing.

Her masterful filmography extends far beyond a galaxy far, far away. She edited Martin Scorsese’s Alice Doesn’t Live Here Anymore and served as a supervising editor on Taxi Driver and New York, New York, as well as contributing to American Graffiti and, of course, Steven Spielberg's Raiders of the Lost Ark. (Trivia: It was Marcia Lucas’ feedback to an early cut of Raiders that prompted the filmmakers to add a much-needed epilogue showing that Marion and Indy would continue their relationship.)

Film is an inherently collaborative medium. While directors and actors often command the spotlight, it is the editors, designers, and illustrators who capture our imaginations before we walk into the theater and stay with us long after the credits roll.

Tony Seiniger, Tony Stella, and Marcia Lucas each helped build the mythologies we carry with us. They will be deeply missed, but every time we watch a perfectly paced climax or marvel at a beautiful piece of movie art, their spirits live on.