In Memoriam: James Earl Jones (1931-2024), Part 2

 

[This is the second installment in my short series in tribute to James Earl Jones, the renowned actor who died at 93 on Monday, 9 September.  As I explained in my introduction to the first part, posted on Sunday, 22 September, I saw Jones on stage twice, first in 1967 at the Arena Stage in Washington, D.C., in the world première of The Great White Hope, and then in 1987 in Fences on Broadway. 

[By the time I saw him in Fences, I was already prepared for what I saw, but in 1967, when I was 21, I was stunned.  I couldn’t quite believe an actor could embody the kind of work I was seeing.  It was an other-worldly experience, and I never forgot the feeling I had watching Jones on that stage.  I saw quite a few magnificent performances both before and after GWH—and I was an amateur actor, at that time doing college shows—but Jones’s Jack Jefferson always eclipsed them all for me.

[It’s for that reason that I decided to run this two-part memorial post to Jones.  He was one of a kind in a profession I love.]

“FOR JAMES EARL JONES, THE STAGE WAS HOME”
by Elisabeth Vincentelli

[Elisabeth Vincentelli’s review of some of James Earl Jones’s stage roles ran in the print edition of the New York Times on 12 September 2024 (section C, page 3), the day after his obituary was published (see Part 1 of this post, 22 September 2024).  (With the actor’s memorial in the first part of this post is also an article examining some of Jones’s film work.)

[As I explained in my foreword to Part 1, my introduction to the acting of James Earl Jones was from the stage—in the role that started him on his road to recognition and stardom, Jack Jefferson in The Great White Hope in 1967/68.  In that foreword, I wrote about some of my theater experiences in my early years as a theatergoer, both in Washington, D.C., my hometown, and New York City. 

[(Much of this is laid out in more detail in “A Broadway Baby,” published on Rick On Theater on 22 September 2010.  I also put up on the blog a survey of theater offerings from the time when the Nation’s Capital was just emerging as a theater town in its own right, “‘Stages in DC’ (Summer 1985),” 25 December 2011.)

[Of the five plays that Vincentelli revisits below, I’ve only seen two, GWH and August Wilson’s Fences.  As I stated in the earlier post, both performances were electrifying.  In Jones’s Jack Jefferson, I saw an astonishing actor, only 36 or 37 when I first saw him, emerging into the limelight that would envelop him ever after.  His Troy Maxson was the work of an actor of established strength and truthfulness showing us how it’s done.  In the decades since then, I’ve never forgotten those experiences.  They’re why people like me go to the theater!]

With roles in classics, major new works and the experimental.

The world will remember James Earl Jones, who died Monday [9 September] at the age of 93, for his contributions to film, some of which are secure in the pop-culture canon.

New York, however, will remember Jones for his contributions to theater, for which he received three Tony Awards (including one for lifetime achievement in 2017) and, in 2022, a rare distinction: the renaming of a Broadway theater in his honor.

Jones once recalled that when he moved to New York to study acting, in 1957, his father, Robert Earl Jones (himself an actor), took him to live performances. In rapid succession, the young man saw the opera “Tosca,” the ballet “Swan Lake,” the musical “Pal Joey” and the drama “The Crucible.” This wide range may help explain Jones’s own rich, startlingly diverse stage career.

For years, the actor deftly navigated oft-produced classics, head-scratching experimental theater, searching new works by major contemporary playwrights and, later in his career, popular dramas and comedies. Jones made his Broadway debut in the late 1950s but throughout the 1960s and ’70s, he also appeared in smaller venues. In 1961, for example, he was in the Living Theater’s avant-garde, resolutely countercultural production of “The Apple.” In 1965 he won an Obie Award for his performance in Bertolt Brecht’s “Baal” and also appeared in Georg Büchner’s “Danton’s Death” at the Vivian Beaumont Theater. In the 1970s, he was Hickman in “The Iceman Cometh” [1973-74], and in the 1980s he starred in two dramas by the South African playwright Athol Fugard [A Lesson From Aloes, 1980-81; “MASTER HAROLD” . . . and the boys, 1982-83] — all three on Broadway.

Here are five productions that reflect Jones’s astonishing range and his commitment to the theater.

1961
‘The Blacks’

A cast of unknowns that included Jones, Cicely Tyson [1924-2021], Maya Angelou [1928-2014], Roscoe Lee Browne [1922-2007] and Louis Gossett Jr. [1936-2024] appeared in this explosive work by the French writer Jean Genet [(1910-86)]. An experimental take on power and oppression in which some of the Black actors wore white masks, “The Blacks” had its New York premiere in 1961 at St. Mark’s Playhouse in Manhattan’s East Village. In just over a week, Howard Taubman of The New York Times wrote not one but two raves about the production, praising it as “one of the most stimulating evenings Broadway or Off Broadway has to offer” and deeming it an event “on any level that matters.”

[The Blacks: A Clown Show (French: Les Nègres, clownerie; published in 1958, premièred in Paris in 1959) by Jean Genet ran at the St. Mark's Playhouse in Manhattan’s East Village from 4 May 1961 to 27 September 1964 (1408 performances). The New York première was produced by Sidney Bernstein, George P. Edgar, and Andre Gregory, and directed by Gene Frankel from Bernard Frechtman’s translation. The set was designed by Kim E. Swados, the costumes and masks by Patricia Zipprodt, and the lighting by Lee Watson. In addition to the actors named above, the cast included Ethel Ayler, Cynthia Belgrave, Godfrey M. Cambridge, Charles Campbell, Charles Gordone, Helen Martin, Jay J. Riley, and Raymond St. Jacques. The production won three 1961 Obie Awards: a Special Citation for Frechtman for his translation, the Best New Play, and a Distinguished Performance for Cambridge as Diouf.]

1964
‘Othello’

A natural Shakespearean, Jones appeared in several productions at Joseph Papp’s New York Shakespeare Festival [now the Public Theater] and its successor, Shakespeare in the Park. Toward the end of his run there, he gave what The Times described as “one of his finest performances” in “King Lear” in 1973 (which is on YouTube).

But the role that would prove to leave a lasting impression was that of Othello, which he had taken on 10 years earlier. “Mr. Jones commands a full, resonant voice and a supple body, and his jealous rages and frothing frenzy have not only size but also emotional credibility,” The Times wrote in a review in 1964.

When the actor returned to the role of the jealous Moor on Broadway, in 1982, facing Christopher Plummer’s Iago, Frank Rich wrote in these pages that “Mr. Jones’s ease and authority as a military commander seem his by birthright, even as he maintains the uneasy aloofness of an outsider.”

[A correction: Shakespeare in the Park is not the successor to either NYSF or the Public Theater. It’s a free program of the company dating back to the days when it was named the Shakespeare Workshop (1954-1967), presenting its outdoor productions first on a mobile stage then, after its opening in 1962, at the Delacorte Theater in Central Park.
 
[After the Shakespeare Workshop was founded by Joseph Papp (1921-91), the impresario decided the troupe needed a permanent home. He arranged to buy the nearly derelict Astor Library building in what is now NoHo and, after extensive renovations, it opened in 1967 (with Hair) and took the name the Public Theater. The company was rechristened the New York Shakespeare Festival.
 
[Papp died of prostate cancer in 1991 and the company was renamed the Joseph Papp New York Shakespeare Festival/The Public Theater in his honor in 1993. (The building itself became the Joseph Papp Public Theater in 1992.)
 
[The company was known by either name, the New York Shakespeare Festival or the Public Theater, interchangeably until sometime in the second decade of the 21st century when it dropped the NYSF.  Today, it’s called either the Public Theater, or just the Public.  (The company’s home is still known as the Joseph Papp Public Theater.)
 
[The 1973 production of William Shakespeare’s King Lear starring James Earl Jones in the title role was presented at the Delacorte from 26 July to 26 August.  Directed by Edwin Sherin (who had also staged Arena Stage’s GWH, below), its cast, in addition to Jones, included René Auberjonois, George Dzundza, Frankie R. Faison, Raul Julia, Gregory Mosher (who would ultimately become artistic director of Chicago’s Goodman Theatre and then New York City’s Lincoln Center Theater), and Paul Sorvino. Santo Loquasto designed the set, Theoni V. Aldredge designed the costumes, and Martin Aronstein designed the lighting.
 
[The NYSF’s mounting of Shakespeare’s Othello opened at the Delacorte on 8 July 1964 and closed on 8 August. It was staged by Gladys Vaughan, with a set design by Ming Cho Lee, costume designs by Theoni V. Aldredge, and lighting designs by Martin Aronstein.  Alongside Jones as the Moor, the cast included Julienne Marie (whom Jones would marry four years later) as Desdemona, Mitchell Ryan as Iago, Sada Thompson as Emilia, Joan DeWeese as Bianca, Herbert Nelson as Brabantio, John Rayner as Cassio, and James Antonio as Roderigo.
 
[Jones’s performance of the Moor in 1955 was for the Ramsdell Theatre, a community theater in Manistee, Michigan. He was a member of the Manistee Summer Theatre Company and this was his initial appearance in the role.
 
[The 1982 Othello on Broadway (see Part 1) had started in Stratford, Connecticut, at the American Shakespeare Theatre in August-September 1981. The Broadway remount won the 1982 Tony for Best Revival and Plummer won the 1982 Drama Desk Award for Outstanding Actor in a Play.]
 
1968
‘The Great White Hope’

In 1967, Jones portrayed a heavyweight boxing champion inspired by the real-life Jack Johnson [1878-1946] in “The Great White Hope,” a new play at Arena Stage in Washington, D.C., by Howard Sackler [see Part 1 for the record of GWH, both at Arena and on Broadway]. The role proved to be a turning point in his career: The epic drama transferred to Broadway in 1968, and Jones became the first African-American to win the Tony Award for best actor in a play. He reprised the part in Martin Ritt’s film adaptation in 1970, earning an Academy Award nomination. Tellingly, Jones followed that breakthrough with a daring show on Broadway: Lorraine Hansberry’s [1930-65] anti-colonialist play “Les Blancs” — ironically, an answer of sorts to Genet’s “The Blacks,” in which Jones had so memorably appeared less than a decade earlier.

[The film adaptation of GWH was produced by Lawrence Turman for Twentieth Century Fox and Lawrence Turman Films. After filming in October 1969-February 1970, the movie premièred in New York City on 11 October 1970, it was released nationally in the U.S. on 19 October. Howard Sackler wrote the screen adaptation of his own play, and, working with director Martin Ritt were John DeCuir for the production design and Irene Sharaff for the costume design. Jones and Jane Alexander reprised their roles; the production also starred Chester Morris (Pop Weaver), Hal Holbrook (Al Cameron), Beah Richards (Mama Tiny), and Moses Gunn (Scipio), among other A-list actors. Both Jones and Alexander were 1971 nominees for Oscars for Best Actor and Actress in a Leading Role; Jones was a 1971 nominee for a Golden Globe for Best Actor in a Motion Picture – Drama and he won the award for Most Promising Newcomer – Male, while Alexander was nominated as Most Promising Newcomer – Female.

[Les Blancs (French for ‘The whites’) premièred at Broadway’s Longacre Theatre from 15 November-19 December 1970 (30 previews, 40 regular performances). Directed by John Berry, the scenic design was by Peter Larkin, the costume design was by Jane Greenwood, the lighting design was by Neil Peter Jampolis, and the sound design was by Jack Shearing. In addition to Jones, who played Tshembe Matoseh, the cast included Cameron Mitchell as Charlie Morris, Earle Hyman (later famous as Russell Huxtable on The Cosby Show) as Abioseh Matoseh, and Harold Scott as Eric. (Scott, 1935-2006, later became a director of note, staging Phillip Hayes Dean’s Paul Robeson [see below] with Avery Brooks on Broadway in 1988 and again in 1995. He directed Brooks again as Othello opposite Andre Braugher’s Iago in Washington, D.C., in 1990; see “Some Out-Of-Town Plays from the Archive: Othello,” 22 December 2020.) Les Blancs garnered two 1971 Tony nominations: Best Featured Actress in a Play for Lili Darvas as Marie Nielson and Best Costume Design for Jane Greenwood; it also won a 1971 Drama Desk Award for Outstanding Performance for Jones. The play was Lorraine Hansberry’s last, completed almost six years after her death by her ex-husband, Robert Nemiroff, from notes and revisions she made on her deathbed. Hansberry had seen The Blacks Off-Broadway and reviewed it in the Village Voice (“Genet, Mailer, & the New Paternalism,” 1 June 1961); she reportedly began writing Les Blancs immediately.]

1987
‘Fences’

Jones’s first Broadway gig was as the understudy to Lloyd Richards [1919-2006] in the short-lived play “The Egghead,” in 1957. Richards then became a respected, successful director, and it’s in that capacity that he worked with Jones again, directing him in such shows as the two-hander “Paul Robeson,” Fugard’s “A Lesson From Aloes” and, most notably, the Broadway premiere of August Wilson’s “Fences,” in 1987. Jones won his second Tony for his performance as the volatile garbage collector Troy Maxson. You might think this triumph would have made the actor even more in demand onstage, but his film career took priority and he did not return to Broadway until 2005 in “On Golden Pond” (for which he was, once again, nominated for a Tony).

[The details of the Broadway première of Fences is in my introduction to Part 1.

[The Egghead by Molly Kazan (née: Molly Day Thatcher, 1906-63; first wife of director Elia Kazan, 1909-2003) ran at the Ethel Barrymore Theatre on Broadway from 9-26 October 1957 (21 performances). It was directed by Canadian-born actor, director, and producer (and husband and often acting partner of esteemed actress Jessica Tandy) Hume Cronyn (1911-2003), with scenic design by Richard Sylbert and costume design by Anna Hill Johnstone. Aside from Richards as Perry Hall, the cast included Karl Malden (1912-2009) as Hank Parson and Phyllis Love (1925-2011) as Sally Parson.

[Paul Robeson, a monodrama by Phillip Hayes Dean (1931-2014), opened on Broadway at the Lunt-Fontanne Theatre on 19 January 1978, after a circuitous tour of the U.S. (under the direction of Charles Nelson Reilly, 1931-2007) and moved to the Booth, where it closed on 30 April after 3 previews and 77 regular performances. Before reaching New York City, Richards took over the direction; the sets were designed by H. R. Poindexter, the costumes by Noel Taylor, and the lighting by Ian Calderon. Jones was nominated for a 1978 Drama Desk Award as Outstanding Actor in a Play. This is the same play which, as I mention above, was revived with Avery Brooks in 1988 and 1995 with Hal Scott at the helm. Its 1977 tour and ’78 Broadway mounting were received with great controversy by prominent African Americans—including Robeson’s son—who disagreed with Dean’s depiction of Robeson (see Bruce Weber, “Phillip Hayes Dean, the Playwright of Divisive ‘Paul Robeson,’ Dies at 83,” New York Times 23 Apr. 2014: B11). It was Dean’s last play (though it was revived again Off-Broadway in 2014, opening a few days before his death).

[A Lesson From Aloes by South African playwright Athol Fugard ran at Broadway’s Playhouse Theatre from 17 November 1980 to 8 February 1981 (14 previews and 96 regular performances) after having its U.S. première at the Yale Repertory Theatre in New Haven, Connecticut.  (Aloes premiered at the Market Theatre in Johannesburg, South Aftica, in 1978.) Fugard directed his own script with scenery designed by Michael H. Yeargan, costumed designed by Susan Hilferty, and lighting designed by William Armstrong. The cast, continuing from Yale Rep, was Jones as Steve Daniels, Maria Tucci as Gladys Bezuidenhout, and Harris Yulin as Piet Bezuidenhout. The production received a single 1981 Tony Award nomination, for Best Play. 

[On Golden Pond by Ernest Thompson, in a Broadway revival of the 1978 play produced by Jeffrey Finn and directed by Leonard Foglia, opened on 7 April 2005 at the Cort Theatre (as of 12 September 2022, renamed the James Earl Jones Theatre), where it ran for 93 performances, closing on 26 June. (The limited run, which was originally scheduled to end on 5 September, was shortened by Jones’s inability to return to the production after contracting pneumonia.) The revival, which premiered at Washington, D.C.’s Kennedy Center (28 September-17 October 2004), followed by an engagement at the DuPont Theatre in Wilmington, Delaware (22-31 October 2004), was directed by Leonard Foglia with a set by Ray Klausen, costumes by Jane Greenwood, lights by Brian Nason, and original music and sound by Dan Moses Schreier. The cast included Jones as Norman Thayer, Jr.; Leslie Uggams as Ethel Thayer; Linda Powell as Chelsea Thayer Wayne; Peter Francis James as Bill Ray; Alexander Mitchell as Billy Ray; and Craig Bockhorn as Charlie Martin. The production was nominated for two 2005 Tonys: Best Revival of a Play and Best Actor in a Play for Jones.]

2012
‘Gore Vidal’s The Best Man’

It’s hard to pick one out of the six Broadway shows that Jones, in what might be deemed his patriarch years, appeared in between 2005 and 2015. All of them were revivals of crowd-pleasing plays and in all of them he gave strong performances. Let’s single out, then, the one that earned Jones his fourth trip to the Tonys: his turn as a former president of the United States in the political satire “Gore Vidal’s The Best Man.” The production received mixed reviews, but The Times [Charles Isherwood, “Mr. Chairman, the Great State of Nostalgia . . .,” 2 Apr. 2012: C1] praised him for digging “into his role with a relish you can surely sense from the back row of the balcony.”

Other roles in that busy decade include the loyal chauffeur of “Driving Miss Daisy” opposite Vanessa Redgrave (2010), and a beloved eccentric grandfather in the George S. Kaufman [1889-1961] and Moss Hart [1904-61] comedy “You Can’t Take It With You” (2014).

In a fortuitous move, the strands of Jones’s theatrical career came together in what turned out to be his final appearance at a New York theater: He appeared in a revival of the two-hander “The Gin Game” with Cicely Tyson — his castmate from “The Blacks,” back in 1961 [see above].

[There is a report on The Best Man by Kirk Woodward on Rick On Theater; see Rick On Theater: 'Best Man', 19 July 2012.

[The 2012 revival of the political drama was produced with the extended title with Vidal’s acquiescence. Michael Riedel of the New York Post reported on a meeting of Jeffrey Richards, wannabee producer of The Best Man, and the would-be director, Michael Wilson, with Vidal (1925-2012) and his partner, Howard Austen, at which permission to produce was granted.

At the time, there was a Taye Diggs movie called “The Best Man” [1999; directed by Malcolm D. Lee for Universal Pictures]. Richards asked if he could change the title to “Gore Vidal’s The Best Man” to avoid confusion.

“I thought you’d never ask,” Vidal said (“To the Gore of the matter,” 3 Aug. 2012, To the Gore of the matter (nypost.com)).

[The revival opened on 1 April 2012 (four months before the playwright’s death on 31 July) at the Gerald Schoenfeld Theatre and closed on 9 September after 31 previews and 185 regular performances. Wilson directed with scenery designed by Derek McLane, costumes designed by Ann Roth, lighting designed by Kenneth Posner, sound designed by John Gromada, and projections designed by Peter Nigrini. The cast included Jones as Former President Arthur "Artie" Hockstader; Angela Lansbury as Mrs. Sue-Ellen Gamadge, Chairman of the Women's Division; John Larroquette as Secretary William Russell; and Eric McCormack as Senator Joseph Cantwell, among not a few A-list names. The production was nominated for two 2012 Tonys: Best Revival of a Play and Best Performance by an Actor in a Leading Role in a Play for Jones; it was nominated for three 2012 Drama Desk Awards: Outstanding Revival of a Play, Outstanding Featured Actress in a Play for Lansbury, and Outstanding Sound Design in a Play for Gromada, winning the last one.

[The 2010 revival of Driving Miss Daisy by Alfred Uhry played at the John Golden Theatre on Broadway from 25 October 2010 to 9 April 2011 (20 previews and 180 regular performances). The director was David Esbjornson, the scenic designer was John Lee Beatty, the costume designer was Jane Greenwood, the lighting designer was Peter Kaczorowski, the sound designer was Christopher Cronin, and the projection designer was Wendall K. Harrington. Jones played Hoke Colburn, Vanessa Redgrave played Daisy Werthan, and Boyd Gaines played Boolie Werthan. The production got only one 2011 nomination, the Tony for Best Performance by an Actress in a Leading Role in a Play for Redgrave.

[The revival in 2014 of You Can’t Take It With You by George S. Kaufman and Moss Hart was at the Longacre Theatre from 28 September 2014 to 22 February 2015, staged by Scott Ellis. The scenery was designed by David Rockwell, the costumes by Jane Greenwood, the lighting by Donald Holder, and the sound by Jon Weston. The cast included Jones as Grandpa Vanderhof, Kristine Nielsen as Penny, Mark Linn-Baker as Paul Sycamore, Patrick Kerr as Mr. DePinna, Annaleigh Ashford as Essie, and Will Brill as Ed. Ashford won both the 2015 Tony for Best Performance by an Actress in a Featured Role in a Play and the 2015 Drama Desk Award for Outstanding Featured Actress in a Play. The production was nominated for four other Tony Awards: Best Revival of a Play, Best Direction of a Play (Ellis), Best Scenic Design of a Play (Rockwell), and Best Costume Design of a Play (Greenwood); Julie Halston was also nominated for the Drama Desk Award for Outstanding Featured Actress in a Play for her portrayal of Gay Wellington.

[D. L. Coburn’s 1976 tragicomedy The Gin Game was revived for a limited run at the John Golden Theatre from 14 October 2015 to 10 January 2016. The two-hander was staged by Leonard Foglia (who had previously directed Jones in On Golden Pond; see above), and Riccardo Hernández designed the set and costumes, Jules Fisher and Peggy Eisenhauer designed the lights, and David Van Tieghem designed the sound. On stage were Jones as Weller Martin and Cicely Tyson as Fonsia Dorsey.

[Aside from the ones named here, the sixth late Broadway outing to which Vincentelli refers was Tennessee Williams’s [1911-83] Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, which had a limited engagement from 6 March to 22 June 2008 (27 previews and 125 regular performances) at the Broadhurst Theatre. Directed by Debbie Allen, the scenic design was by Ray Klausen, the costume design by Jane Greenwood, the lighting design by William H. Grant III, and the sound design by John Shivers. Jones played Big Daddy, with Phylicia Rashad as Big Mama, Terrence Howard as Brick, and Anika Noni Rose as Maggie. No awards were made for the Broadway revival of Cat, but Jones traveled to London with the production in 2009 and the show won the 2010 Laurence Olivier Award for Best Revival of a Play.]

[Elisabeth Vincentelli is a New York-based arts and culture journalist and a regular contributor to the New York Times’ Arts section.  She served as the chief drama reviewer for the New York Post from 2009 until 2016, succeeding Clive Barnes.]

*  *  *  *
“JAMES EARL JONES, DISTINGUISHED ACTOR
AND VOICE OF DARTH VADER, DIES AT 93”
by Adam B. Vary and Carmel Dagan 

[I’m posting a second obituary of James Earl Jones here because I thought it was worth seeing what an entertainment-industry periodical had to say of the actor.  This notice was published on Variety’s website on 9 September 2024 (James Earl Jones Dead: Darth Vader Voice, Lion King Star Was 93 (variety.com)).

[The Broadway League, the committee of theater owners, announced that it would dim the lights of Broadway marquees to honor the legacy of James Earl Jones on Thursday, 26 September, at 6:45 p.m.  The lights of Broadway’s 41 theaters will darken for one minute.  (Dimming the lights of Broadway theater marquees to honor people who have made significant contributions to the theater world is a tradition that began in the 1950s. The lights are dimmed for one minute at curtain time on a show night; most shows on the 26th will start at 7 p.m.)]

James Earl Jones, the prolific film, TV and theater actor whose resonant, unmistakable baritone was most widely known as the voice of “Star Wars” villain Darth Vader, died Monday morning at his home in Dutchess County, N.Y., his rep confirmed to Variety. He was 93.

After overcoming a profound stutter as a child, Jones established himself as one of the pioneering Black actors of his generation, amassing a bountiful and versatile career spanning over 60 years, from his debut on Broadway in 1958 at the Cort Theatre — renamed the James Earl Jones Theatre in 2022 — to his most recent performance in 2021’s “Coming 2 America.” For that film, Jones reprised his role as King Jaffe Joffer from the 1988 Eddie Murphy comedy “Coming to America” — one of several roles, along with Darth Vader, that Jones revisited, including the voice of King Mufasa in Disney’s animated feature “The Lion King” in 1994, the 1998 direct-to-video sequel and the 2019 remake, and CIA deputy director Vice Admiral James Greer in three Jack Ryan movies [based on Tom Clancy novels], 1990’s “The Hunt for Red October,” 1992’s “Patriot Games” and 1994’s “Clear and Present Danger.”

[The 1958 show Vary and Dagan refer to as Jones’s Broadway début at what was then the Cort Theatre was Sunrise at Campobello by Dore Schary (1905-80). In truth, the actor’s first job on Broadway was in Molly Kazan’s The Egghead in 1957 at the Barrymore (see above). He was the understudy for Lloyd Richards.]

Among his more than 80 film credits, Jones’ other notable movies include as a B-52 bombardier in Stanley Kubrick’s 1964 Cold War satire “Dr. Strangelove” (his feature film debut), as the first Black president of the United States in 1972’s “The Man,” as the fearsome villain in 1982’s “Conan the Barbarian,” as a reclusive author in 1989’s “Field of Dreams,” as a blind former baseball star in 1993’s “The Sandlot,” and as a minister living in apartheid South Africa in 1995’s “Cry, the Beloved Country.” [Several of the films listed here are discussed briefly in Noel Murray’s article in Part 1 of this Rick On Theater series.]

Jones was nominated for four Tony Awards, and won two, in 1969 for playing boxer Jack Johnson in “The Great White Hope” (which he reprised on film in 1970, receiving his only Oscar nomination), and in 1987 for originating the role of Troy Maxson in August Wilson’s Pulitzer Prize-winning drama “Fences.” [Both these plays are covered above in Elisabeth Vincentelli’s article and Noel Murray discusses the film adaptation of GWH in Part 1.] He was nominated for eight primetime Emmy awards, winning twice in 1991, for supporting actor in the miniseries “Heat Wave,” about the 1965 Watts riots, and for lead actor in the drama series “Gabriel’s Fire,” about a wrongfully imprisoned ex-cop who becomes a private detective. It was the first time an actor won two Emmys in the same year.

[Heat Wave was a TV movie (not a miniseries) which aired on TNT (Turner Network Television) on 13 August 1990. Gabriel’s Fire was a TV series that ran for one season from 12 September 1990 to 6 June 1991 (22 episodes) on ABC. Jones won the Primetime Emmys for Heat Wave as Outstanding Supporting Actor in a Miniseries or a Special and for Gabriel’s Fire as Outstanding Lead Actor in a Drama Series. His 1971 Oscar nomination for GWH was as Best Actor in a Leading Role; both his Tonys were for Best Actor in Play. (His two Tony nominations were as Best Actor in a Play in On Golden Pond in 2005 and as Best Performance by an Actor in a Leading Role in a Play in 2012 for Gore Vidal’s The Best Man.)]

Jones earned a Kennedy Center Honor in 2002, the Screen Actors Guild Life Achievement award in 2009, an honorary Oscar in 2011 and a lifetime achievement Tony Award in 2017. His Grammy award in 1977 for spoken word album makes Jones only one a handful of actors to receive an EGOT.

[EGOT is the acronym for winning an Emmy, a Grammy, an Oscar, and a Tony. Some in show business and the entertainment press believe that an honorary award isn’t enough for EGOT status. There is a continuing debate over whether honorary or noncompetitive awards count toward an EGOT. Only 21 people have won all four awards competitively; 6 people have won an EGOT with honorary or special awards. (Only one person, playwright and musical-theater songwriter Robert Lopez, 49, has won an EGOT twice.)]

Jones’ looming yet ultimately affable presence and rich speaking voice made him a natural for Shakespeare, and he played some of the great roles, such as Macbeth and Othello, for Joseph Papp’s American Shakespeare Festival. Jones narrated several documentaries, from 1972’s “Malcom X” to the 2007 Disneynature doc “Earth,” and, famously, he intoned the tagline “This is CNN” for the cable news channel.

[Jones played Macbeth (1966) and Othello (1964) for Joseph Papp’s Shakespeare Workshop (1954-67; renamed New York Shakespeare Festival in 1967 when it opened the Public Theater with Hair).  There was an American Shakespeare Theatre in Stratford, Connecticut (1955-82), unconnected with Papp, for which Jones also played Othello (1981; transferred to Broadway, 1982; see above and Part 1), but not Macbeth. He was the “Voice of CNN” starting in 1990, the 10th anniversary of the all-news network, and his rendition of the tagline is still in use—and is likely to be well into the future, according to the network.]

His television credits, which number over 70, including many movies and miniseries such as “Roots” [Roots: The Next Generations, 1979; not the original Roots of 1977] and “The Atlanta Child Murders” [1985], recurring roles on “L.A. Law” [1988, 1989] “Homicide: Life on the Street” [1997] and “Everwood” [2003, 2004], and guest roles on shows like “The Simpsons” [1990, 1994, 1998], “Picket Fences” [1994], “Law & Order” [1993], “Frasier” [1997] and “House” [2009].  

As for his most famous role, Jones was paid $7,000 to lend his voice to Darth Vader in 1977’s “Star Wars: A New Hope” [see Part 1], but he declined screen credit for that film and its sequel, 1980’s “The Empire Strikes Back,” out of deference to the actor who played the role on screen, David Prowse [1935-2020]. By 1983’s “Return of the Jedi,” however, Jones had become fully synonymous with one of the most memorable and terrifying villains in cinema history, and received credit for his work. He returned to Vader’s voice again for 2005’s “Episode III — Revenge of the Sith” and 2016’s “Rogue One: A Star Wars Story,” but for the 2022 Disney+ series “Obi-Wan Kenobi,” Jones instead authorized Lucasfilm to use archival recordings and AI technology to recreate Vader’s voice.

When asked in 2014 by the New York Times about how he’d kept his career alive for so long, Jones’ response evoked the kind of plainspoken humility that he had so often brought to his performances as well.

“The secret is never forgetting that you’re a journeyman actor and that nothing is your final thing, nothing is your greatest thing, nothing is your worst thing,” Jones said. “I still consider myself a novice” [Dave Itzkoff, “‘I Don't Hear the Voice You Hear,’” New York Times Magazine 19 Jan. 2014: 12].

James Earl Jones was born in 1931 on a farm in in Arkabutla, Miss. His father, Robert Earl Jones, left home soon after to pursue his own acting career (the two more-or-less reconciled when the younger Jones was in his 20s, and they even performed together). When Jones was 5, he moved with his maternal grandparents to Michigan. The shock of the relocation induced a stammer so severe that he often could communicate only in writing. It wasn’t until high school when he started to overcome his stutter, when his English teacher, upon learning that Jones composed poetry, encouraged him to read his writing aloud in class.

As an undergraduate student at the University of Michigan, Jones initially set out to study medicine, but wound up more interested in drama. His first stage role was a small part in the 1957 Off Broadway production “Wedding in Japan.” He took side jobs to supplement occasional theater work in Broadway’s “Sunrise at Campobello” [1958], “The Cool World” [1960] and “The Pretender” [Off-Broadway, 1960] He also appeared in summer stock.

[Jones matriculated at the University of Michigan in 1949, but he joined the army in 1953 before graduating. After a two-year stint in the service, he returned to UM in 1955, finished his degree, and was awarded a BA from Michigan’s Department of Music, Theater, and Drama.

[He worked at the Ramsdell Theatre in Manistee, Michigan, a community theater in the town in which he grew up. In 1953, he was a stage carpenter, and between 1955 and 1957, he acted and was a stage manager. In his first acting season at the Ramsdell, he gave his first portrayal of Othello. (Jones had also acted at UM, so Wedding in Japan, a drama of interracial romance by Ted Pollack, was perhaps his first professional stage role.)

[Wedding, a drama of interracial romance by Ted (Theodore) Pollack, opened, in a revised version from productions in 1949 and 1952, on 11 March 1957 at the Greystone Theatre. The production was the inaugural offering of the new space that had been converted from a ballroom in the Greystone Hotel on Manhattan’s Upper West Side at West 91st Street and Broadway. (I was unable to determine the closing date, but the reviews were generally dismissive.) Jones had a small role as an American GI in post-World War II Japan, and he understudied Ivan Dixon (1931-2008), one of the show’s leads. The production was directed by Leo Nemetz, who was also a producer, with Stanley Greene.]

In 1960, Jones joined Papp’s New York Shakespeare Festival [known then as the Shakespeare Workshop]. The following year he made his first serious impact in a landmark Off Broadway production of Jean Genet’s “The Blacks” [see above] as the protagonist Deodatus. Afterwards, for Papp, he played Oberon in “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” [1961; Delacorte Theater] the first of many heralded Shakespearean turns. His masterful 1964 performance as Othello for Papp [see above] was moved Off Broadway, where the production ran for almost a year.

Jones’ first big break into cinema came by way of Papp’s production of “The Merchant of Venice,” in which Jones played the Prince of Morocco to George C. Scott’s Shylock [1962; Delacorte Theater]. When Stanley Kubrick came to see Scott, whom he was considering for one of the leads in “Dr. Strangelove” [1964; see Part 1], the film director was so impressed that he cast Jones in the film, too. In 1966, Jones had the title role in “Macbeth” at the New York Shakespeare Festival, again to great acclaim. He also booked a recurring role on “As the World Turns” in 1966, marking the first time a Black actor had a continuing role on a daytime soap opera

Still, he was almost one of Broadway’s best-kept secrets until 1968 with his performance in Howard Sackler’s “The Great White Hope” [see above] as Jack Johnson, the first Black man to win the world heavyweight boxing championship. The Tony, the acclaim and its timing in the late ’60s propelled Jones into the spotlight at a time when it was difficult for Black actors to secure quality roles. The actor, however, has said that the accolades he received for for [sic] both the play and its film adaptation did not do that much for his career.

It wasn’t until 1977, when Jones’ voice terrified audiences for the first time as Darth Vader, that things truly began to shift for him. That same year, Jones also appeared in ABC’s “Roots” playing the author Alex Haley, whose genealogical novel of the same title inspired the groundbreaking miniseries. He never quite became an outright star in the classic sense of the word, but the back-to-back successes that year did ultimately make Jones a household name, whose presence connoted a stature and gravitas to projects that might otherwise be lacking.

[As I noted earlier, this is an error. Jones wasn’t in the 1977 Roots miniseries; his character, Alex Haley, didn’t appear in that program. Jones portrayed Haley in Roots: The Next Generations, the 1979 sequel.]

Theatre is where Jones most frequently was a box office draw in his own right — and well into his 80s. He returned to Broadway in 2005 for a production of “On Golden Pond” opposite Leslie Uggams, drawing another Tony nomination. In 2008, he played Big Daddy in a production of Tennessee Williams’ “Cat on a Hot Tin Roof” that featured an all-Black cast including Terrence Howard, Anika Noni Rose and Phylicia Rashad. [These plays are covered above, in Elisabeth Vincentelli’s article, as is the show in the paragraph below.]

Two years later, he returned to Broadway in a revival of “Driving Miss Daisy” opposite Vanessa Redgrave; the production’s move to London in 2011 meant he had to miss the Honorary Oscars ceremony in Los Angeles. Instead, Sir Ben Kingsley surprised Jones with his statuette in person after he’d concluded a matinee performance of the show.

Jones was first married to actress-singer Julienne Marie. His second wife of 34 years, actress Cecilia Hart, died in 2016. He is survived by his son, Flynn Earl Jones. [Jones met both his wives when they played Desdemona to his Othello, one in 1964 and the other in 1981.]

[Adam B. Vary is a senior entertainment writer covering the business of genre storytelling and fandom across movies, television, and streaming platforms.  He joined Variety in 2019, after seven years at BuzzFeed News and six years at Entertainment Weekly.

[Carmel Dagan, a news editor at Variety, went to Harvard and worked for the entertainment industry bible Variety for 16 years, and during the last five he wrote more than 300 advanced obituaries, a number of which were published on Variety.com. Dagan also writes current obituaries.]

*  *  *  *
“JONES SET AN EXAMPLE FOR ACTORS”
by Jonathan Abrams 

[Two days after James Earl Jones’s obituary appeared in the New York Times, Jonathan Abrams published a column reporting on how Jones’s art and work had left an impression on some of his professional colleagues.  The article, which ran in the print edition on 13 September 2024, section C, page 3, focuses on Wendell Pierce, who was most recently seen on Broadway in Arthur Miller’s Death of a Salesman at the Hudson Theatre (9 October 2022-15 January 2023), and Courtney B. Vance, who played Troy Maxson’s son Corey in Fences opposite Jones in 1987-88.]

Courtney B. Vance and Wendell Pierce discuss one of their heroes.

James Earl Jones had already made a lifetime impression on Wendell Pierce by the time Pierce patiently waited in a receiving line to meet Jones after his opening night performance of August Wilson’s [1945-2005] “Fences” nearly 40 years ago [26 March 1987].

Years earlier, Jones had mesmerized Pierce in the 1970 film “The Great White Hope,” embodying integrity, creativity and dignity in the role of the boxer Jack Jefferson. The performance inspired a teenage Pierce [b. 1963] as he began his studies at the New Orleans Center for Creative Arts. That, he decided, was the type of actor he yearned to be.

Pierce told Jones of his impact. “Are you an actor?” Pierce recalled Jones asking in his barreling baritone of a voice. Delighted to learn that he was, Jones discussed how he enjoyed the night, but was glad it was over. There was shared energy between the actors and audience except the hole where the critics sat stoic and unmoved. They wouldn’t be there after opening night.

“Now that it’s over, there won’t be that hole there,” Jones said. “People can just respond to the play. That’s the great thing about doing theater. It’s that energy between the audience and the performance. Don’t you find that?”

It’s a moment Pierce cherishes after carving his own impactful career by starring in television shows like “The Wire” [2002-2008, HBO] and “Treme” [2010-2013, HBO] and on Broadway in “Death of a Salesman.”

“I knew I was part of a collective whole of the people who had seen it that would have this unique, seminal experience that would be something that you had to be there to see,” Pierce said. “And I feel privileged that I was a part of that very few, especially in theater performances with Mr. Jones, that got to see it.”

Art reflects society’s values, hopes and dreams, he said. An actor’s mission is to project those onto a communal setting. No one did it better than Jones, who died at 93 on Monday [9 September 2024].

“The more specific you are and the more authentic and truthful you are, like he was, the more universal it becomes,” Pierce said. “That’s why people identify with his famous performances, because we all were touched by it because he was so truthful, so authentic that it spoke to all of us.”

Jones’s voice is instantly recognizable for his work in the original “Star Wars” trilogy, “The Lion King” and “The Simpsons.” His face is known for classics like “Coming to America,” “The Sandlot” and “Field of Dreams.” However, it may have been Broadway where Jones’s presence resonated so personally and profoundly not just with the audience, but with a young crop of Black actors who cherished seeing male actors of color in leading roles.

“He’s my hero,” Denzel Washington [b. 1954] told Variety. “My college theater career started because of ‘The Emperor Jones’ and ‘Othello’ with James Earl Jones.”

[It’s unlikely that Washington saw Jones’s 1964 portrayal of Othello at Central Park’s Delacorte Theater, but he might have seen the 1982 Broadway mounting or even the 1981 version in Connecticut. Eugene O’Neill’s The Emperor Jones is another matter, however. There is a 1971 recording from Caedmon of Jones in a reading of the play, but I can’t find a record that it was derived from a staged version. Jones did perform the title role on the stage, but it was in 1964 (when Washington would only have been 9), and it was at the Boston Arts Festival. I haven’t been able to find a record of any other performance of James Earl Jones playing Brutus Jones that Washington’s likely to have seen.]

“I wasn’t going to be as big as him,” Washington added. “I wanted to sound like him. He was everything to me as a budding actor. He was who I wanted to be.”

Courtney B. Vance [b. 1960] described acting alongside Jones in “Fences” as “the seminal event of my life.” High expectations existed around a play that showcased a Black playwright (Wilson), Black director (Lloyd Richards) and Black lead actor (Jones). Vance often sensed a power struggle, but for the most part, he was just trying to find his footing.

In the play, Vance played Cory, the son of the protagonist, Jones’s Troy Maxson. Vance was 25 [actually, 27] years old at the time, planting the seeds for his own long career, which includes Emmy and Tony wins. Everyone else in the cast knew one another. Vance originally felt isolated.

“They all knew him,” Vance said. “He was Jimmy and James Earl Jones. I didn’t know what to call him, and of course, in the play, he demanded that his son — ‘You put a sir on that when you speak to me. Yes sir.’ So, he was sir to me and that’s what I called him.”

Vance was referencing a memorable scene in which his character asked his father if he liked him. Jones, as Maxson, forcefully responded that he provided for him and that should suffice.

“It’s so timeless,” Vance said. “It’s the struggle between fathers and sons.”

Jones and Vance giggled through rehearsing the scene for the first couple of weeks. “It was too deep for us, I guess,” Vance said. Finally, Richards requested they go deeper.

“Jimmy had a sinus thing, so the snot would just roll on out of his nose and he would just let it hang there with the snot just bouncing in the air and you didn’t know whether to look at him or the snot or to the ground,” Vance said. “It was very otherworldly.”

Jones made his Broadway debut in the 1950s, receiving three Tony Awards (one for lifetime achievement) over the decades while playing a range of rich roles like Maxson, or Jefferson in the 1967 play “The Great White Hope,” written by Howard Sackler, that was adapted into the movie Pierce loved.

In the years before Pierce met Jones at “Fences,” he had arrived in New York to study at Juilliard, “lost, uncomfortable, a little nervous about stepping into this new chapter of my life with studying theater,” he said.

In 1982, he watched Jones perform in “Othello” at the Winter Garden Theater.

“It gave me focus and it made me come to understand that I was in the right place at the right time and doing the work that I needed to do, because I saw what I possibly could become embodied in this man playing the Moor,” Pierce said. “That’s how you know that something is authentic, the lasting impact that it has on the people that receive it.”

Vance said he had made plans to visit Jones later this month. “The world shifted on me,” Vance said. “I’ll have to see him in my dreams.”

[Jonathan Abrams writes about the intersections of sports and culture and the changing cultural scenes in the South.

[American Theatre, the quarterly magazine of the Theatre Communications Group, has just released an online tribute to James Earl Jones by his co-star in the Broadway revival of Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, Phylicia Rashad.  I have decided to add a third part to the memorial series to repost that essay, which I will accompany by three additional articles I think are interesting.  Part 3 will be posted on Saturday, 28 September 2024.]

"Cillian Murphy said yes to ‘Oppenheimer’ before reading one of Christopher Nolan’s red scripts"

by Scott Pelley, Aliza Chasan, Nicole Young, and Kristin Steve

[On 18 February 2024, Irish actor Cillian (pronounced KILL-ee-ən) Murphy (b. 1976) was interviewed on the CBS News magazine show 60 Minutes by correspondent Scott Pelley.  Murphy’s been nominated for a 2024 Best Actor Academy Award (winners to be revealed on 10 March); he’s already won the Golden Globe, BAFTA, and Screen Actors Guild Awards.

[Here’s IMDb’s biography of Murphy, who got his start as an actor on stage in Enda Walsh’s Disco Pigs by the Corcadorca Theatre Company in Cork, Republic of Ireland, premièring on 26 September 1996 (I’ve changed the names of plays and movies, and other titles to roman type for easier recognition):

Striking Irish actor Cillian Murphy was born in Douglas [County Cork], the oldest child of Brendan Murphy, who works for the Irish Department of Education, and a mother who is a teacher of French. He has three younger siblings. Murphy was educated at Presentation Brothers College, Cork. He went on to study law at University College Cork, but dropped out after about a year. During this time, Murphy also pursued an interest in music, playing guitar in various bands. Upon leaving University, Murphy joined the Corcadorca Theater Company in Cork, and played the lead role in Disco Pigs, amongst other plays.

Various film roles followed, including a film adaptation of Disco Pigs (2001). However, his big film break came when he was cast in Danny Boyle’s 28 Days Later (2002), which became a surprise international hit. This performance earned him nominations for Best Newcomer at the Empire Awards and Breakthrough Male Performance at the MTV Movie Awards.

Murphy went on to supporting roles in high-profile films such as Cold Mountain (2003) and Girl with a Pearl Earring (2003), and then was cast in two villain roles: Dr. Jonathan Crane, aka The Scarecrow, in Batman Begins (2005) and Jackson Rippner in Red Eye (2005). Although slight in nature for a villain, Murphy’s piercing blue eyes helped to create creepy performances and critics began to take notice. Manhola Dargis of the New York Times cited Murphy as a “picture-perfect villain”, while David Denby of The New Yorker noted he was both “seductive” and “sinister”.

Later that year, Murphy starred as Patrick “Kitten” Braden, an Irish transgender woman in search of her mother in Neil Jordan’s Breakfast on Pluto (2005), a film adaptation of the Pat McCabe novel. Although the film was not a box office success, Murphy was nominated for a Golden Globe for Best Actor in a Comedy or Musical and he won Best Actor for the Irish Film and Television Academy Awards.

The following year, Murphy starred in Ken Loach’s The Wind that Shakes the Barley (2006). The film was the most successful independent Irish film and won the Palm[e] [d]’Or at the 2006 Cannes Film Festival. Murphy continued to take roles in a number of independent films, and also reprised his role as the Scarecrow in Christopher Nolan’s The Dark Knight (2008). Nolan is known for working with actors in multiple films, and cast Murphy in Inception (2010) as Robert Fischer, the young heir of the multi-billion dollar empire, who was the target of DiCaprio’s dream team. His most well-known work is starring as Thomas Shelby in the British TV show Peaky Blinders beginning in 2013.

Murphy continues to appear in high-profile films such as In Time (2011), Red Lights (2012), and The Dark Knight Rises (2012), the final film in Nolan’s Batman trilogy.

Murphy is married [since 2004] to Yvonne McGuinness, an artist. The couple have two sons, Malachy and Aran.

[Much of what Murphy said about acting was interesting to me, even if I didn’t agree with it all, so I decided to repost the write-up of the interview by Pelley and his producing team (Cillian Murphy said yes to "Oppenheimer" before reading one of Christopher Nolan's red scripts - CBS News; a video of the interview is included).]

Cillian Murphy jumped to act in “Oppenheimer,” even before reading writer and director Christopher Nolan’s script.

The decision paid off. Murphy won a Golden Globe for the role and he’s nominated for an Oscar for the first time in his decades-long career. There have been six Nolan films for Murphy.

“It’s always paid off for me, you know, in every film that I worked with him on,” Murphy said.

Working on “Oppenheimer”

Murphy did eventually read the script from Nolan, printed on red paper so that it couldn’t be photocopied.

“I did genuinely think it’s one of the greatest screenplays I’d ever read,” he said.

Murphy views it as a miracle when films, including “Oppenheimer,” get made.

“And then if it’s any way good, that’s a miracle. And then if it connects with audiences, that’s a miracle,” he said. “So it’s a miracle, upon miracle, upon miracle to have a film like ‘Oppenheimer.’ It really is.”

That miracle came after months of hard work. Murphy lost 28 pounds so that his silhouette would match that of physicist J. Robert Oppenheimer, often credited as the father of the atomic bomb. For six months, Murphy read and listened to Oppenheimer’s lectures. He performed for his dog Scout as he walked on the beach.

“I remember at one point, I said to Chris — ‘Chris, there appears to be, he appears to speak Dutch here. And I think he’s giving a lecture in Dutch here. What are we gonna do about that?’ And Chris said, ‘You mean what are you going to do about that,’” Murphy said.

Murphy said he put all he learned in the back of his mind and acted on instinct.

“I think instinct is your most powerful tool that you have as an actor. Nothing must be predetermined,” he said. “So therefore you mustn’t have a plan about how you’re gonna play stuff. And I love that. It’s like being buffeted by the wind and being buffeted by emotion.”

Emily Blunt, who played Oppenheimer’s tortured wife, describes being in a scene with Murphy as a “very visceral” experience. She doesn’t know of many people who can do what he does. 

“If you’re as agile as someone like Cillian, and as vulnerable, and as clever, you can play it all,” she said. 

Playing it all 

While “Oppenheimer” may be the role that made Murphy a household name, he’s been acting for decades, starting in his hometown of Cork, Ireland. Murphy and his brother had a band in high school and performing led him to an acting class and then his first play [presented by the Corcadorca Theatre Company] in the Triskel Arts Centre, which housed a small stage with 100 seats.

He was 20 in 1996 when he acted in his first play, “Disco Pigs.”

“I was very comfortable on stage in front of an audience from when I was little. I never had any nerves doing that,” Murphy said. “It felt natural, you know? And thrilling.”

Some of his earliest audiences were “drunk guys out of their mind bashing up against” a fire escape door. It used to energize him.

“So I remember learning about, like, taking whatever you have — sort of responding to whatever the energy is in the room and using it,” he said.

Today, the former stage is undergoing a transformation so it can be used by aspiring actors. Murphy, who hadn’t been back to the space since 1996, visited it with 60 Minutes correspondent Scott Pelley.

Since that first play, there have been a dozen others and 40 movies. Murphy’s breakout role as a leading man came with 2013’s “Peaky Blinders” [TV series, 2013-22]. In the series, Murphy plays Thomas Shelby, who survives World War I and goes on to lead a family of gangsters.

“I like to be challenged. And I, and when I read something, I want to go, ‘I don’t really know how I can do that,” Murphy said.

Murphy came into his own during his 10 years acting in “Peaky Blinders.” Early in his career, he heard from “one of the Sydneys,” either Lumet or Pollack — he’s not sure — that it takes 30 years to make an actor.

“It’s not just technique and experience and all that, it’s maturing as a human being and trying to grapple with life and figure it out, and all of that stuff. So by the time you’ve been doing it for 30 years, you have all of that banked, hopefully,” Murphy said. “And eventually, then I think you’ll get to a point where you might be an OK actor.”

What’s next for Murphy 

Murphy’s newest movie is “Small Things Like These,” which premiered Thursday at the Berlin International Film Festival. He plays Bill Furlong, tormented by injustice that he sees on his route delivering coal. His wife fears his empathy will upend their lives. 

Murphy is joined in the critically acclaimed movie by Eileen Walsh, who’s known Murphy longer than any other actor, having acted with him in “Disco Pigs.” Walsh has seen how much Murphy will put into his roles.

“From the very beginning, our warm-ups for ‘Disco Pigs’ involved us punching each other quite hard,” she said. 

Regardless of how far Murphy’s pushing has taken him, he still sees himself as an actor, not a movie star.

“Oh, OK, am I? I think you can be both. You know, I’ve never understood that term, really, ‘movie star,’” he said. “I’ve always just felt like I’m an actor. That’s, I think, a term for other people, rather than for me.”

*  *  *  *
“DISCO PIGS”
by Matt Wolf 

[Since this post is about acting as much as it’s about Cillian Murphy and Oppenheimer, I thought it would be interesting to see a review of Murphy’s début performance in Disco Pigs on stage.  Below is the notice published in Variety on 21 September 1997 of the London première of the play (Bush Theatre, 3-27 September 1997), after its début in Cork and its performances at the Edinburgh Festival (Disco Pigs (variety.com)).]

Language can be both the blessing and the blight of the Irish theater, and in the case of "Disco Pigs," it falls somewhere in between. Written in an invented patois that suggests high-adrenaline baby talk filtered through Ireland's thick Cork accent, Enda Walsh's play marks an impressive linguistic feat that nonetheless reaps diminishing returns. Whereas the novel speech in a play like "The Skriker" [1994 play by Caryl Churchill] induces a real rush, the grunts of "Disco Pigs" wear out their not always intelligible welcome: For a 70-minute piece, it's a fairly long sit. The play was a hit at the recent Edinburgh Festival [7-30 August 1997], and one can see why, since it possesses the virtues on which that festival thrives: youth, energy and speed. But seen in London amid a season that has hosted a virtual flood of Irish drama, the play looks like a belated addition to the New Brutalism in vogue at the moment.

[Brutalism (more commonly an architectural style) in literature and drama is characterized by raw, unadorned, and often unsettling or violent themes and imagery.  It may be a tactic to reflect the harsh realities of the world, such as poverty, violence, and social injustice as a way to give voice to the marginalized and oppressed.  It can be seen as a way to challenge societal norms and conventions or to explore the darker aspects of human nature, such as violence, addiction, and mental illness.  “New Brutalism” in literature and drama arose around the 1980s.  Some examples of New Brutalist plays are: One Flea Spare (1995) by Naomi Wallace, Shopping and Fucking (1996) by Mark Ravenhill, and Bloody Sunday (2005) by Richard Norton-Taylor.]

Runt (Eileen Walsh) and Pig (Cillian Murphy) — teenagers both — lead abusive, anti-social lives, yearning for sex and chips and booze (not always in that order) and ready to fly into a tantrum (and worse) when plans go awry. The two define one another’s existence and speak of themselves as a Celtic Bonnie and Clyde, weaned on “Baywatch” and “Never Can Say Goodbye” and yearning for the true release that their dreary circumstances won’t allow.

On a set by Aedin Cosgrove that suggests a low-rent arena of sorts (two red metal chairs are the only props), gawky Runt plays realist to the feisty, mercurial Pig.

Director Pat Kiernan rightly treats the piece as an in-your-face mood swing shifting between ferocity and elegy, and he exhibits a real find in Eileen Walsh’s (no relation to the playwright) awkward, cropped-haired Runt. As the most pugnacious of soulmates, Murphy has the less engaging role, though it’s a tribute to both actors that their body language tells its own compelling story long after the author’s own talking-in-tongues has begun to pall.

*  *  *  *
“‘OPPENHEIMER’: CHRISTOPHER NOLAN’S STARRY 
BIOPIC IS BIG, LOUD, AND A MUST-SEE”
by David Fear 

[On the other hand . . . .

[Scott Pelley’s interview is about Oppenheimer, so here’s a review of the film.  It’s David Fear’s column from Rolling Stone on 19 June 2023 ('Oppenheimer' Review: Christopher Nolan Epic Falls Short of Greatness (rollingstone.com))—just one of dozens that covered this Oscar-nominated hit of the past season.

[Oppenheimer is Christopher Nolan’s biographical thriller film that chronicles the career of theoretical physicist J. Robert Oppenheimer (1904-67), focusing on his direction of the Manhattan Project during World War II, which developed the atom bomb.  Nolan wrote, directed, and co-produced the film for Universal Pictures, Atlas Entertainment, and Syncopy.  The studios released the movie on 13 July 2023 in the United Kingdom and 17 July in the United States.

[Oppenheimer is the fifth highest-grossing movie worldwide that runs three hours or longer, after Avengers: Endgame (2019), Avatar: The Way of Water (2022), Titanic (1997), and The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King (2003).  It’s Nolan’s highest-grossing non-Batman film, and his third highest-grossing overall, after The Dark Knight (2008) and The Dark Knight Rises (2012). 

[In September 2023, Oppenheimer became the highest-grossing biographical film of all time, surpassing Bohemian Rhapsody (2018).  It is the second-highest-grossing R-rated film of all time, behind Joker (2019) and the highest-grossing World War II-related film, surpassing Dunkirk (2017), also a Nolan film.

[Wikipedia reports that the film received critical acclaim, primarily for its direction, cast performances (particularly from Murphy, Blunt, and Downey), and visuals; it was frequently ranked as one of Nolan's best films.  On Rotten Tomatoes, 93% of 496 critics' reviews are positive, with an average rating of 8.6/10.  Metacritic assigned the film a score of 90 out of 100.

[Oppenheimer, also according to Wikipedia, was praised by other filmmakers as well.  Oliver Stone deemed the film “a classic, which I never believed could be made in this climate.”  Paul Schrader called Oppenheimer, “the best, most important film of this century,” while Denis Villeneuve called it “a masterpiece.”

[The film has received 13 nominations (including Murphy’s Best Actor nod) for the 96th Academy Awards to become Nolan’s most Oscar-nominated film, surpassing the eight nominations achieved by The Dark Knight (2008), Inception (2010), and Dunkirk (2017).]

Inception filmmaker’s extensive, exhaustive portrait of the “father of the atomic bomb” is both thrilling and wonky, brilliant and overstuffed, too much and not enough

In the beginning, there were simply explosions. Smaller bangs — the big one would come much later, in the New Mexico desert. But for J. Robert Oppenheimer, the quantum physicist who would guide the greatest scientific minds of his generation toward creating a doomsday device, it was all just a constant collision and coming apart of matter in his head. Put the man in a lab, and he’s hopeless. Let him roam in the world of theories, and Oppenheimer could hear what a mentor dubbed “the music of science.” Those symphonies gave him visions of black holes, collapsing stars, developing nebulae, gaseous eruptions, particles moving at the speed of light, molecules spinning, atoms splitting. He sees these things, and then we see these things, rendered in 70mm IMAX. Any filmmaker can create a cinematic universe. (Many have. Too many, some might say.) Very few can show you how a genius perceives the building blocks of our universe, right before that same person imagines something that threatens our existence in it.

This is what Christopher Nolan does in Oppenheimer, a biopic on the “father of the atomic bomb,” and in terms of getting you into the mindset of its subject, these bursts of abstract imagery are a brilliant move on his part. It’s not the only ace the writer-director has up his well-tailored sleeve, mind you — there are somewhere between four to five timelines bumping against each other at any given moment, it’s shot in both saturated color and stark black & white, its sound design equally prizes dead silence and deafening booms, and the cast is comprised of seemingly every third actor with a SAG card. Not to mention a depth-charge performance by Cillian Murphy as the Man Who Would Be Destroyer of Worlds, one that allows the tiniest surface ripples to communicate the agony and the ecstasy of changing the world.

But those interspersed shots of cosmic debris and microscopic detonations, some of which abruptly interrupt exchanges and others that smoothly transition viewers from one scene to the next, are perfect examples of how to let you experience someone like Oppenheimer’s perspective by showing, rather than telling. And it sometimes feels like those two camps — the cinematic and the chatty-to-a-fault — are fighting it out on Nolan’s massive canvas in a way that resembles nuclear fission minus the energy release.

Taking its cues from the exhaustive, Pulitzer-winning book American Prometheus by Kai Bird and Martin J. Sherwin [2006; Vintage Books; 721 pages], Oppenheimer seeks to cram as much of the man’s life, his work, his elevation to national hero, his eventual persecution, and his personal demons into three hours. Just for good measure, Nolan throws in not one but two competing courtroom dramas as well. There’s a roll-the-dice sensation throughout: Scenes of people sitting in rooms talking can seem thrilling or plodding, clarify historical conflicts and complicated concepts or confuse the hell out of you. Set pieces feel sweeping one second, and like they’re sucking the oxygen out of the room the next. Then, suddenly, the movie cuts to a huge close-up of Murphy, his eyes suggesting a man wrestling for his soul, and you’re transfixed. As with so much of Nolan’s work, you can feel a truly great film peeking out in fits and spurts within a longer, slightly uneven one.

It’s a tough thing to admit, given that Nolan is one of Hollywood’s few name-above-the-title auteurs left standing. He can still get an original mega-budgeted film greenlit, and has taken on the mantle of keeping alive not just film as a medium but film as a physical means of storytelling. His work is intellectual yet visceral, philosophical yet pulse-pounding; he’s always managed to smuggle big ideas into multiplexes via blockbuster templates, even in genres he hasn’t completely terraformed. Like its better half in the joint entity now known as “Barbenheimer,” Oppenheimer isn’t afraid to talk up to an audience (although in Barbie‘s case, the degree of difficulty in doing that via a decades-old brand of dolls feels damn near revolutionary). And along with that shiny happy toy story, Nolan’s biography of a key figure of the 20th century has been burdened with the responsibility of saving motion pictures from financial instability and existential free fall. Heavy are the heads that wear the crown, etc.

So let us now praise movies about famous men, and the famous men who make them. Oppenheimer is most assuredly a Christopher Nolan film, complete with the blessings and the curses of what that phrase entails. The good stuff first: There are a handful of sequences that remind you why this 52-year-old director is considered a godhead by film geeks, genre freaks, and armchair arthouse-cinema scholars alike. When Nolan is on, he is on, as evidenced by the early scenes of Oppenheimer and his military liaison, General Leslie Groves (Matt Damon, all mustache and bluster), assembling the eggheads. Their plan is to turn the small New Mexico burg of Los Alamos into a self-sufficient, family-friendly town for a group of scientists and a top-secret think tank for a weapon of mass destruction. The military need the end result of the Manhattan Project to win WWII, preferably before the Germans develop their own version of “the gadget.” Oppenheimer, both compelled by and wary of the opportunity, wants them to maintain the “moral advantage” after the world sees what this thing can do.

Concentrating on the mounting pressure to deliver, the miniature steps forward with each behind-the-scenes breakthrough, and the accountability factor causing friction between the project leader and his patrons, Oppenheimer becomes its own ticking time bomb. All the while, fractures are happening within the team, and the precariousness of the situation, along with Oppenheimer’s willingness to go through with opening this Pandora’s Box, brings things to a tipping point. These scenes remind you of how Nolan understands the use of sound and vision as a means of emotional engagement (helped in no small part by his regular cinematographer Hoyte van Hoytema and composer Ludwig Göransson‘s score); how his ability to fold complex ideas into presentations of human behavior, and vice versa, comes through in his writing; how the timing of a cut and the framing of an image can transform a moment from grandiose or mundane to sublime. The gent is a genuine filmmaker. He’s a big-screen artist, the bigger the screens the better.

And these sequences, in particular, reinforce the notion of Nolan as a great director of actors, even if the performances overall are across the board in terms of screen time and effectiveness. Not just Murphy, who’s worked with The Dark Knight director before and delivers an Oppenheimer that goes far beyond the there-goeth-the-great-man clichés associated with many biopics. There’s Damon, whose repartee with Murphy approaches screwball levels. There’s Robert Downey Jr. as Lewis Strauss, the chairman of the Atomic Energy Commission who turns a perceived slight into a postwar vendetta against Oppenheimer. (It’s not an exaggeration to say that Downey does some of the best work of his long career here.) There’s Gary Oldman as President Harry S. Truman, who turns a single scene in the Oval Office into a damning portrait of the POTUS as a complete bastard.

There’s Florence Pugh, and Emily Blunt, and Benny Safdie, Josh Hartnett, Rami Malek, Kenneth Branagh, Casey Affleck, Jason Clarke, Matthew Modine, Olivia Thirlby, Dane DeHaan, Alden Ehrenreich… it’s actually quicker to list who’s not in Oppenheimer. Nolan has said he wanted to cast recognizable faces so that audiences could keep track of who’s who easier, but he also gives them opportunities to flex, whether it’s for a minute or the majority of the running time. And given that there are so many scenes of people conversing, reading, lecturing, interrogating, handwringing and musing over the morality of mass destruction, they have to keep things afloat as much as their ringmaster.

Oppenheimer peaks with the Trinity test, a roughly 10-minute sequence that follows the lead-up to the detonation of the first atomic bomb, its blast, and the sense of shock and awe that greets this game-changing “gadget.” Soon after, we see Oppenheimer addressing his fellow scientists about their victory, and he’s greeted with visions of blinding lights, burnt corpses, and empty bleachers. It’s a climactic gut punch… and there’s still another hour or so to go. Which leads us to the less-than-stellar aspects of Nolan’s A-list A-bomb-creator’s origin story. Threaded in between the race against time to craft this killing machine prototype are recreations of a 1954 tribunal over renewing Oppenheimer’s security clearance, in light of the Soviets now having their own nuclear weapons, and a 1959 congressional hearing on Strauss’s bid to join President Eisenhower’s cabinet. It’s here that we get flashback glimpses of the physicist’s career before Los Alamos, his tenure at UC Berkeley, his marriage to Blunt’s Kitty Oppenheimer, his attempt to reconcile what he’s unleashed on the world and what turns out to be a contentious relationship with Strauss.

It’s also where the movie starts to waver in terms of storytelling, cutting back and forth to create a tapestry of the 20th century that’s meant to enrich the scenes of science being used and abused in the name of warfare (Nolan’s politics are a moving target in this film, as they are in much of his work, though it’s safe to say he’s solidly anti-nukes here). They end up drawing both the focus and the momentum away from the movie, even if they do flesh some aspects out and give Downey a primo showcase. You suddenly become more aware of Nolan’s tendency to favor giant compositions and conceptual overreaches over connecting narrative dots in certain places, which has been a longstanding criticism. There are some questionable bits of business that play out as well. It’s one thing to let Pugh’s Jean Tatlock, whose Communist affiliation would still haunt J. Robert decades after their torrid affair ended, to be the one who hands him the Sanskrit poem that would be his response to Trinity: “Now I am become Death, destroyer of worlds.” It’s another to have her do it while she’s writing topless on top of him, which is… a choice. And the less said about her and Murphy getting hot and heavy during an interrogation-session hallucination, the better — we can now say that sex scenes are not Nolan’s forte.

As those two trials intertwine and paint a picture of Oppenheimer as both McCarthy-era martyr and, ultimately, the victor over Strauss’s smear campaign during the movie’s last act, there’s a slight sensation of listening to wind blowing through torn sails. In attempting to get a 360-degree picture of his subject’s life and times on as big a scale as possible, it feels as if Nolan occasionally loses sight of the big picture as a whole. Oppenheimer is one of those shoot-for-the-moon projects that feels thrilling and wonky, brilliant and overstuffed, too much and yet not enough. It’s also a movie that brings to mind the difficult era-spanning epics of yesteryear, from Reds to The Right Stuff, and is a movie made by adults for adults yet done with the sweep and majesty we now associate with movies made for kids and teens. Nolan has made what can sometimes feel like a maddeningly elusive attempt to make a grand statement about then and now, only to continually drown himself out in the technical equivalent of the Zimmer Honk. He’s also given us one of the only movies of the summer that you really have to see.