The three-time Oscar winner’s disheveled appearance comes after multiple reports suggested the star’s pals were concerned he would die alone, in a similar manner to his former next door neighbor and fellow screen legend Marlon Brando.
Nicholson, 85, is arguably La La Land’s most famous bachelor. He was married for four years prior to making it in Hollywood. His most famous romance with Angelica Houston ended nearly 25 years ago.
The Shining star was last seen in October 2021 alongside his doppelganger son, Ray, sitting courtside watching his beloved LA Lakers. Ray, 31, is one of the few people that Nicholson keeps in contact with, according to reports.
On Thursday, Nicholson was pictured enjoying the fresh air overlooking Franklin Canyon Reservoir. He wore a loose-fitting pale orange shirt and baggy sweatpants as he leaned up against a balcony railing on the crisp morning outing.
Jack Nicholson has been seen for the first time in 18 months, hanging out on the balcony of his Mullholland Drive compound in Beverly Hills The 85-year-old wore a loose fitting pale orange shirt and baggy sweatpants as he leaned up against a balcony railing on the crisp morning outing
Nicholson’s appearance comes months after multiple reports suggested The Shining star has become a recluse Nicholson took turns sitting and standing while enjoying the Los Angeles morning. In video exclusively obtained by DailyMail.com, birds could be heard chirping while he tapped on the balcony railings.
At one point, the One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest star keenly observed a helicopter flying overhead.
He’s made it clear his home is his castle. But people just wish he’d come out of the house and pop up to tell them how — or at least reassure folks he’s OK,’ an unnamed friend told Radar Online in January.
‘Jack’s in touch with certain relatives — especially Ray, his protégé, who he’s so proud of — but his socializing days are long gone,’ they added. His last on-screen appearance came in 2010’s little known How Do You Know, starring alongside Owen Wilson and Reese Witherspoon.
The New Jersey-native has dodged rumors for years that he’s retired from acting as he is battling dementia and is unable to remember his lines.
In January, his unnamed friend told Radar that while Nicholson was in good shape physically, ‘his mind is gone.’
At one point, the One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest keenly observed a helicopter flying overhead
In video exclusively obtained by DailyMail.com, birds could be heard chirping as Nicholson tapped on his balcony railings
The New Jersey-native has dodged rumors for years that he retired from acting as he is battling dementia and was unable to remember his lines
In January, his unnamed friend told Radar Online that while Nicholson was in good shape physically, ‘his mind is gone’
Shortly after those reports emerged, former Fox News host Bill O’Reilly said during an episode of his No Spin News broadcast that reports that Nicholson’s mental health had diminished were ‘bull.’
I visited Jack Nicholson a few months ago. I had a long conversation with him and he follows the No Spin News very closely and had all kinds of intelligent questions for me,’ O’Reilly said.
‘I have been friends with him for decades. He is 85, okay? But he is more intellectually nimble than the president of the United States,’ the former Inside Edition host continued.’ Despite his confirmed bachelor status, Nicholson has fathered six children by five different women.
Nicholson has been criticized for never acknowledging his paternity of his alleged daughter Tessa Gourin, who was born out of his brief affair with waitress Jeanine Gourin.
Nicholson’s compound on Mulholland Drive. The actor started buying the land around the home in the 1970s
Nicholson pictured in October 2019 with the NBA’s 75th anniversary basketball at the Staples Center
In February, Tessa, an aspiring actress, published an essay in Newsweek titled ‘I’m Jack Nicholson’s Daughter – I Wish People Could Call Me a Nepo Baby.’
‘Having grown up without my father, I’ve sat on the sidelines and watched in frustration as other celebrity children have seamlessly secured roles or been signed to huge agencies,’ she wrote. ‘More recently, I have grown even more frustrated at what I think is a missed opportunity for these so-called “nepo babies” to own their position and embrace it instead of complaining about it,’ Tessa continued. For nearly four decades, Jack believed that his mom was his sibling, until 1974, when Time magazine uncovered the truth and told him about its findings. While speaking to Patrick McGilligan for his biography, entitled Jack’s Life, the Shining star called it ‘the most f**ked thing he had ever heard.’ He also said the discovery was ‘dramatic’, but added that it ‘wasn’t’ something he’d ‘call traumatizing.’
The actor later told Rolling Stone, when asked about the shock revelation: ‘I was very impressed by their ability to keep the secret, if nothing else. It’s done great things for me.’
My Landlord Kicked Us Out for a Week So His Brother Could Stay In the House We Rent
When Nancy’s landlord demanded she and her three daughters vacate their rental home for a week, she thought life couldn’t get worse. But a surprise meeting with the landlord’s brother revealed a shocking betrayal.
Our house isn’t much, but it’s ours. The floors creak with every step, and the paint in the kitchen is peeling so badly that I’ve started calling it “abstract art.”
An old house | Source: Pexels
Still, it’s home. My daughters, Lily, Emma, and Sophie, make it feel that way, with their laughter and the little things they do that remind me why I push so hard.
Money was always on my mind. My job as a waitress barely covered our rent and bills. There was no cushion, no backup plan. If something went wrong, I didn’t know what we’d do.
The phone rang the next day while I was hanging out laundry to dry.
A woman hanging laundry | Source: Pexels
“Hello?” I answered, tucking the phone between my ear and shoulder.
“Nancy, it’s Peterson.”
His voice made my stomach tighten. “Oh, hi, Mr. Peterson. Is everything okay?”
“I need you out of the house for a week,” he said, as casually as if he were asking me to water his plants.
A woman talking on her phone | Source: Pexels
“What?” I froze, a pair of Sophie’s socks still in my hands.
“My brother’s coming to town, and he needs a place to stay. I told him he could use your house.”
I thought I must’ve misheard him. “Wait—this is my home. We have a lease!”
“Don’t start with that lease nonsense,” he snapped. “Remember when you were late on rent last month? I could’ve kicked you out then, but I didn’t. You owe me.”
An angry man talking on his phone | Source: Freepik
I gripped the phone tighter. “I was late by one day,” I said, my voice shaking. “My daughter was sick. I explained that to you—”
“Doesn’t matter,” he interrupted. “You’ve got till Friday to get out. Be gone, or maybe you won’t come back at all.”
“Mr. Peterson, please,” I said, trying to keep the desperation out of my voice. “I don’t have anywhere else to go.”
An expressive woman talking | Source: Pexels
“Not my problem,” he said coldly, and then the line went dead.
I sat on the couch, staring at the phone in my hand. My heart pounded in my ears, and I felt like I couldn’t breathe.
“Mama, what’s wrong?” Lily, my oldest, asked from the doorway, her eyes filled with concern.
I forced a smile. “Nothing, sweetheart. Go play with your sisters.”
A woman talking to her daughter | Source: Pexels
But it wasn’t nothing. I had no savings, no family nearby, and no way to fight back. If I stood up to Peterson, he’d find an excuse to evict us for good.
By Thursday night, I’d packed what little we could carry into a few bags. The girls were full of questions, but I didn’t know how to explain what was happening.
“We’re going on an adventure,” I told them, trying to sound cheerful.
A woman packing together with her daughter | Source: Pexels
“Is it far?” Sophie asked, clutching Mr. Floppy to her chest.
“Not too far,” I said, avoiding her gaze.
The hostel was worse than I expected. The room was tiny, barely big enough for the four of us, and the walls were so thin we could hear every cough, every creak, every loud voice from the other side.
A woman in a hostel | Source: Freepik
“Mama, it’s noisy,” Emma said, pressing her hands over her ears.
“I know, sweetie,” I said softly, stroking her hair.
Lily tried to distract her sisters by playing I Spy, but it didn’t work for long. Sophie’s little face crumpled, and tears started streaming down her cheeks.
“Where’s Mr. Floppy?” she cried, her voice breaking.
A crying child | Source: Pexels
My stomach sank. In the rush to leave, I’d forgotten her bunny.
“He’s still at home,” I said, my throat tightening.
“I can’t sleep without him!” Sophie sobbed, clutching my arm.
I wrapped her in my arms and held her close, whispering that it would be okay. But I knew it wasn’t okay.
A woman hugging her crying child | Source: Freepik
That night, as Sophie cried herself to sleep, I stared at the cracked ceiling, feeling completely helpless.
By the fourth night, Sophie’s crying hadn’t stopped. Every sob felt like a knife to my heart.
“Please, Mama,” she whispered, her voice raw. “I want Mr. Floppy.”
I held her tightly, rocking her back and forth.
A crying girl | Source: Pexels
I couldn’t take it anymore.
“I’ll get him,” I whispered, more to myself than to her.
I didn’t know how, but I had to try.
I parked down the street, my heart pounding as I stared at the house. What if they didn’t let me in? What if Mr. Peterson was there? But Sophie’s tear-streaked face wouldn’t leave my mind.
A thoughtful woman in front of her house | Source: Midjourney
I took a deep breath and walked up to the door, Sophie’s desperate “please” echoing in my ears. My knuckles rapped against the wood, and I held my breath.
The door opened, and a man I’d never seen before stood there. He was tall, with a kind face and sharp green eyes.
“Can I help you?” he asked, looking puzzled.
A man in front of his house | Source: Midjourney
“Hi,” I stammered. “I—I’m sorry to bother you, but I’m the tenant here. My daughter left her stuffed bunny inside, and I was hoping I could grab it.”
He blinked at me. “Wait. You live here?”
“Yes,” I said, feeling a lump form in my throat. “But Mr. Peterson told us we had to leave for a week because you were staying here.”
A sad woman in the doorway | Source: Pexels
His brows furrowed. “What? My brother said the place was empty and ready for me to move in for a bit.”
I couldn’t stop the words from spilling out. “It’s not empty. This is my home. My kids and I are crammed into a hostel across town. My youngest can’t sleep because she doesn’t have her bunny.”
A sad young woman talking to a man | Source: Midjourney
His face darkened, and for a second, I thought he was angry at me. Instead, he muttered, “That son of a…” He stopped himself, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.
“I’m so sorry,” he said, his voice softer now. “I had no idea. Come in, and we’ll find the bunny.”
A serious young man opening his door | Source: Midjourney
He stepped aside, and I hesitated before walking in. The familiar smell of home hit me, and my eyes burned with tears I refused to let fall. Jack—he introduced himself as Jack—helped me search Sophie’s room, which looked untouched.
“Here he is,” Jack said, pulling Mr. Floppy from under the bed.
A pink stuffed bunny under a bed | Source: Midjourney
I held the bunny close, imagining Sophie’s joy. “Thank you,” I said, my voice trembling.
“Tell me everything,” Jack said, sitting on the edge of Sophie’s bed. “What exactly did my brother say to you?”
I hesitated but told him everything: the call, the threats, the hostel. He listened quietly, his jaw tightening with every word.
A couple talking | Source: Midjourney
When I finished, he stood and pulled out his phone. “This isn’t right,” he said.
“Wait—what are you doing?”
“Fixing this,” he said, dialing.
The conversation that followed was heated, though I could only hear his side.
A serious man on his phone | Source: Pexels
“You kicked a single mom and her kids out of their home? For me?” Jack’s voice was sharp. “No, you’re not getting away with this. Fix it now, or I will.”
He hung up and turned to me. “Pack your things at the hostel. You’re coming back tonight.”
I blinked, not sure I’d heard him right. “What about you?”
“I’ll find somewhere else to stay,” he said firmly. “I can’t stay here after what my brother pulled. And he’ll cover your rent for the next six months.”
A smiling man talking to a woman | Source: Midjourney
That evening, Jack helped us move back in. Sophie lit up when she saw Mr. Floppy, her little arms clutching the bunny like a treasure.
“Thank you,” I told Jack as we unpacked. “You didn’t have to do all this.”
“I couldn’t let you stay there another night,” he said simply.
A young child holding her toy | Source: Midjourney
Over the next few weeks, Jack kept showing up. He fixed the leaky faucet in the kitchen. One night, he brought over groceries.
“You didn’t have to do this,” I said, feeling overwhelmed.
“It’s nothing,” he said with a shrug. “I like helping.”
A man with groceries | Source: Pexels
The girls adored him. Lily asked for his advice on her science project. Emma roped him into board games. Even Sophie warmed up to him, offering Mr. Floppy a “hug” for Jack to join their tea party.
I started to see more of the man behind the kind gestures. He was funny, patient, and genuinely cared about my kids. Eventually, our dinners together blossomed into a romance.
A couple on a date night | Source: Pexels
One evening several months later, as we sat on the porch after the girls had gone to bed, Jack spoke quietly.
“I’ve been thinking,” he said, looking out into the yard.
“About what?”
“I don’t want you and the girls to ever feel like this again. No one should be scared of losing their home overnight.”
A young man talking to his girlfriend | Source: Midjourney
His words hung in the air.
“I want to help you find something permanent,” he continued. “Will you marry me?”
I was stunned. “Jack… I don’t know what to say. Yes!”
A marriage proposal | Source: Pexels
A month later, we moved into a beautiful little house Jack found for us. Lily had her own room. Emma painted hers pink. Sophie ran to hers, holding Mr. Floppy like a shield.
As I tucked Sophie in that night, she whispered, “Mama, I love our new home.”
“So do I, baby,” I said, kissing her forehead.
A woman tucking her daughter in | Source: Midjourney
Jack stayed for dinner that night, helping me set the table. As the girls chattered, I looked at him and knew: he wasn’t just our hero. He was family.
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
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