It is, of course, just a superstition, yet it seems to work out fairly often. A coincidence is, after all, merely a perceived pattern, and it is a human trait to impose patterns on random things; hence the constellations in the sky.
While I know that there is nothing of substance to the superstition, I nevertheless find myself reflexively looking for the three deaths “in a row” when a famous entertainer dies. They are usually fairly easy to find as there is no precise definition as to who ranks as “enough” of a celebrity to be counted, and there does not seem to be any precise rule as to how many days must elapse between the first death and the third.
Here’s one instance which comes to mind which seems to fit the requirements: David Niven and Raymond Massey died on the same day. Within a day or two Luis Bunuel, one of the great film directors of all time, died.
On the other hand, June Carter Cash died on the same day this year as a prominent actor (just now I’ve forgotten who), and there did not seem to be a third death in rapid succession.
Another instance where the pattern seemed to fail: Dennis James and Charles Fennimann were two of the outstanding TV announcers of all time, and had extraordinarily long and successful careers. They died on the same day, but again, there seemed to be no third.
I hadn’t heard that Cronyn died. He was one of my all-time favorite actors. While a number of his film performances were rather lackluster (for instance, his part as the Egyptian high priest in Cleopatra), he was an actor of extraordinary range and versatility and, on stage, could be positively riveting.
It has been more than 25 years since I saw him and his then-wife Jessica Tandy perform on my campus when I was an undergraduate. It was in a show of their own devising in which they did selections from a great variety of dramas, and I remember it still as one of the most amazing performances I have ever seen.
When I was a boy the lector at my church was a man severely deformed by rheumatoid arthritis; he had a way of walking which resembled the scuttling of a crab. In an instant Cronyn was able to throw himself into the role of Richard III, and it was eerie: he seemed to by copying the posture and gait of that lector precisely. When he and Tandy did a selection from The Lion in Winter, it was the scene where Henry II shouts “I think I’m going to be sick!” He went into a kind of convulsion and turned purple. They did a sketch based on a James Thurber story. Towards the end Tandy said something stupid and Cronyn merely stared at her in confusion for a moment. The way he did it brought the house down.
I think Cronyn would definitely count as famous or prominent enough to figure as one of three along with Peck. Should Brinkley be counted? He was certainly eminent enough, but usually I’ve heard the superstition stated as requiring three people in entertainment. The murky line between broadcast news and entertainment is one which can be argued endlessly, of course.