The Horse's Head

#360) Atlantic City (1980)

OR “Deal or No Deal”

Directed by Louis Malle

Written by John Guare. Based on the novel “The Neighbor” by Laird Koenig.

Class of 2003

The Plot: The lives of two neighbors in a dilapidated Atlantic City apartment unexpectedly intersect in this acclaimed crime drama. Aspiring casino dealer Sally Matthews (Susan Sarandon) is blindsided when her estranged husband Dave (Robert Joy) and his pregnant girlfriend/Sally’s sister Chrissie (Hollis McLaren) arrive unannounced. A chance run-in with Sally’s neighbor – washed up gangster Lou (Burt Lancaster)– leads to Lou assisting Dave in a business transaction involving stolen cocaine. As this unfolds, so does an unexpected bond between Lou and Sally. But the pull of Atlantic City’s corrupt underbelly may be too strong for these two.

Why It Matters: The NFR praises Lancaster’s “masterful performance”, Guare’s “taut script”, and Malle’s “European sensibilities”, whatever that means.

But Does It Really?: This is a tough one. On the one hand, I’m a sucker for a well-acted character study, and “Atlantic City” still delivers on that front almost 40 years later. On the other hand, you don’t hear “Atlantic City” mentioned often among the great films. Throw in another nationality dispute (see “Other notes”) and I have to question the film’s NFR inclusion. Still, I liked this film quite a bit, which is definitely a point in its favor. A slight pass/“minor classic” designation for “Atlantic City”.

Everybody Gets One: Legendary French director Louis Malle had been making movies for 20 years when he made his first American film, 1978’s “Pretty Baby”. When he was approached by International Cinema Corp. to direct a script based on a novel by Laird Koenig, Malle hired playwright John Guare to do a rewrite. Guare (best known today for “Six Degrees of Separation”) opted to write an original story also set in Atlantic City and, at Malle’s request, featured a prominent role for Malle’s then-girlfriend Susan Sarandon.

Wow, That’s Dated: “Atlantic City” is a very specific moment in the history of the Monopoly City. The hottest tourist spot on the East Coast during Prohibition, “The World’s Famous Playground” fell on hard times after WWII, and by the early ‘70s, many of the city’s hotels were either converted to apartments or demolished entirely. In a last-ditch effort to bring back tourism, New Jersey voted to legalize casino gambling in Atlantic City in 1976. The demolition happening throughout the film is real, and many of those sites are now the home of casinos and luxury hotels.

Seriously, Oscars?: After a successful run in Canada and France in 1980, “Atlantic City” saw its American release in 1981. While not a box-office success, the film was nominated in the Oscars’ “Big Five” categories. “Atlantic City” was the only Best Picture nominee to go home empty handed, losing to favored films “Chariots of Fire”, “Reds”, and “On Golden Pond”. “Atlantic City” did, however, sweep Canada’s Genie Awards.

Other notes

• Another nationality dispute! “Atlantic City” is primarily a co-production between Canada and France, but one of the Canadian studios that financed the film was Famous Players Limited, a division of Paramount Pictures, who distributed the film in the United States. It’s a real stretch by NFR standards, but it helps that the film was shot in America and features two American leads.
• That opening shot definitely gets your attention. Susan Sarandon has stated that for years fans would send her lemons, jokingly wishing they had filmed the scene with $100 bills instead.
• Shoutout to Lucy the Elephant.
• I’m sure Susan Sarandon relished the opportunity to play something that wasn’t “Rocky Horror Picture Show”. Sally gets to be dimensional and flawed, still a rarity for female leads.
• Also dated: Susan Sarandon’s mammoth cassette player (on loan from Joe Gideon, I presume).
• Surprisingly for a movie written by a playwright, there’s a restraint on spoken dialogue in this movie. There’s still some clunky exposition near the beginning, but most of the characterizations happen through actions and facial expressions.
• The film has not one, but two Canadian acting legends. Kate Reid was a mainstay of Canada’s theater scene, and got the role of Grace after Ginger Rogers soundly turned it down. Al Waxman (Alfie), best known as Lt. Bert Samuels on “Cagney & Lacey”, was a respected actor and humanitarian in his native Canada. He even has a statue in Toronto!
• The $4000 Dave says he can get for the cocaine would be $14,000 in today’s money.
• Is automated parking still a thing?
• Special Guest Star Robert Goulet! I’m sure Goulet was fully aware of the ironic counterpoint his appearance is meant to provide. I wonder how John Guare feels about being able to connect Goulet to Burt Lancaster with only one movie.

• Oh the irony of Wallace Shawn playing a waiter in a Louis Malle film.

• You can’t imagine anyone other than Burt Lancaster playing Lou. His studio system acting style plays nicely into a character that is stuck in the past.
• And then we get to the scene where Lou tells Sally about his voyeurism and she finds it romantic. Good luck getting that in a movie today.

• Once again, I found myself not taking a lot of notes, mainly because I was just enjoying the movie. Also this movie is just subtle enough I thought I’d miss something.
• “I don’t believe in gravity.” Let me guess: Chrissie doesn’t vaccinate her kid.
• And yet, despite the gloomy situation the characters find themselves in, and the overarching theme of corruption, the film manages to end on an optimistic note. It’s the “flower growing in a parking lot” metaphor from “The Office” on full display.

Legacy

• Everyone’s career benefited from “Atlantic City” and its post-Oscar bump. Louis Malle’s next movie was his iconic “My Dinner with Andre”, Burt Lancaster reinvented himself as a character actor (see “Field of Dreams”), and Susan Sarandon has been a Hollywood mainstay/political activist ever since.

• As for Atlantic City itself, the gambling revitalization helped the city immensely, with the ‘80s being another boom period for the town. While still popular, Atlantic City just isn’t what it used to be. I blame a certain President of the United States who shall remain nameless.

Further Viewing: “Boardwalk Empire” was a fictionalization of Atlantic City’s heyday, with Steve Buscemi’s Nucky Thompson being a stand-in for the real Nucky Johnson. This is the Atlantic City Lou is referring to when he says, “it used to be beautiful, what with the rackets, whoring, guns…”

#359) La Perla [The Pearl] (1947)

OR “South of Eden”

Directed by Emilio Fernández

Written by John Steinbeck & Emilio Fernández and Jack Wagner. Based on the novella by Steinbeck.

Class of 2002

NOTE: “La Perla” was filmed simultaneously in both English and Spanish. For this post I watched the Spanish version (mainly because I didn’t realize there was an English version).

The Plot: Quino (Pedro Armendáriz) lives in poverty in the La Paz, Mexico of the 1940s with his wife Juana (Maria Elena Marqués) and their infant son Juanito. Their luck changes when Quino finds an oyster on the ocean floor that contains a large pearl. The town celebrates Quino’s newfound fortune, and Quino dreams of a better life for his son. But when an influential dealer (Fernando Wagner) attempts to buy the pearl from Quino, the greed that comes from fast money appears, and Quino puts his family and himself in danger in this modern day parable.

Why It Matters: The NFR calls the film “a landmark among English-language films released for Hispanic audiences in the United States.”

But Does It Really?: I knew nothing about “La Perla” prior to this viewing, and given its obvious Mexican pedigree I was skeptical about its inclusion in a registry of American films. Further research shows this film to be a joint production between American studio RKO and Mexico’s Águila Films, so “La Perla” is, in fact, eligible. As for the film itself, “La Perla” is a well-made, straightforward adaptation of the novella. Not a classic, but not a relic of its time either. Thanks to its American financing, “La Perla” gets a pass for its then uncommon practice of international studios co-producing a movie, which helps “La Perla” stand out from so many of the other movies on this list.

Everybody Gets One: Practically everyone involved in this film is from Mexico’s Golden Age of Cinema, in which Mexico focused on producing commercial films while the rest of the world was making WWII propaganda. Director Emilio Fernández and cinematographer Gabriel Figueroa were both primarily responsible for some of the era’s most iconic films. Much of the same team that made “La Perla” had worked together on Fernández’s previous films “Wild Flower” and “María Candelaria”, both considered landmarks of early Mexican cinema.

Seriously, Oscars?: No Oscar love for “La Perla” (RKO’s big contender that year was “I Remember Mama”), but Gabriel Figueroa did win the Golden Globe for Cinematography. In addition, “La Perla” swept the Mexican Academy’s Ariel Awards, winning five, including Best Picture.

Other notes

• Was mine the only high school where “The Pearl” wasn’t required reading? Everything I’ve read about “The Pearl” mentions its status as a high school English mainstay. My Steinbeck required reading was “Of Mice and Men”, which I may or may not have read…
• The story of how the novella “The Pearl” came to be is connected to the film. Steinbeck originally started writing the story as a screenplay, but converted it into a short story for “Woman’s Home Companion” in 1945. RKO optioned the film rights, and Steinbeck wrote the screenplay, while simultaneously expanding the story into a novella. The novella and film came out within months of each other.
• The most amazing thing about the two versions of “La Perla” is that it’s the same cast for both the Spanish and English versions. These actors performed all of their scenes twice! It’s hard enough to carry a movie, but Pedro Armendáriz and Maria Elena Marqués successfully do so in two different languages!
• While we’re on the subject, both versions of “La Perla” are nearly identical, but the English version is about eight minutes shorter than the Spanish version. This is due to the removal of certain sequences that were too risqué for the American censors. Stick with the Spanish version.
• I believe the film’s opening sequence is just south of the “Mildred Pierce” credits.
• So healthcare in 1940s Mexico is not too different from healthcare in modern day America. Got it.
• The underwater sequence has some lovely tension to it, and Quino has the most impressive breath support in film history.

• Shoutout to Gabriel Figueroa; he deserves every award he got for this movie’s cinematography. There’s not a lot of story to film, but Figueroa manages to convey a lot of character in his compositions.
• The film’s extended dance number, which has little if anything to do with the plot, was my first clue that the source material may have been a short story.
• In addition to the aforementioned storytelling in camera, there’s also a lovely restraint on dialogue in this movie. Characters speak when they have to, but a lot is conveyed non-verbally. I’m sure that saved the studios a fortune in retakes for the alternate language version.
• The Dealer’s offer of 900 pesos for the pearl would have been the equivalent to 50 cents in 1947 US money. I know The Dealer is trying to downplay the pearl’s value, but it really takes the sting out of this whole thing.
• If the actor playing Godfather looks familiar, he’s Alfonso Bedoya, best known for uttering the immortal line: “I don’t have to show you any stinkin’ badges!”
• Well that ending is a real downer. But then again, I should have seen that coming from Steinbeck. Surely there are other ways Quino could have learned that lesson.
• Because of this film’s co-production status, does that mean “Roma” will be eligible for NFR consideration in 2028? I don’t mind waiting to find out; I’m still scarred from the childbirth scene.

Legacy

• Emilio Fernández directed a handful of Mexican-American collaborations throughout the next decade, including 1950’s “The Torch”. His directing career waned in the ‘50s, but he continued acting for the next decade, including in fellow NFR entry “The Wild Bunch”.

• Like Hollywood, Mexican cinema faced stiff competition from television, and started to decline in popularity. Coupled with ongoing union disputes and the death of legendary actor Pedro Infante, the late ‘50s marked the end of Mexican Cinema’s Golden Age.
• John Steinbeck has had two other films based on his work make the NFR: “East of Eden” and, of course, “The Grapes of Wrath”.

#358) The House in the Middle (1954)

Produced by The National Clean Up – Paint Up – Fix Up Bureau with the cooperation of The Federal Civil Defense Administration

Class of 2001

The Plot: Nothing says a 1950s short like Atomic Age paranoia, and “The House in the Middle” is no exception. Brought to you by the National Clean Up – Paint Up – Fix Up Bureau (the NCUPUFUB for short) and the Federal Civil Defense Administration (FCDA), the house in question is one of three standing as part of a nuclear bomb test in Yucca Flat, Nevada. Footage from the Upshot-Knothole Encore of 1953 shows that the houses on either side – untidy and deteriorating – immediately catch fire following a nuclear explosion, while the house in the middle – well-kept with a fresh coat of paint – survives. What can we as terrified Americans do? Why, keep our neighborhoods clean and our houses painted, of course! What an agenda!

Why It Matters: The NFR calls the film a “curiosity of the Cold War era” and then discusses the conspicuous participation of the National Paint, Varnish and Lacquer Association (NPVLA) in the making of this film. There’s also an essay by Kelly Chisholm, possibly the only Library of Congress employee with a degree in Chemistry.

But Does It Really?: America’s Atomic period needs to be preserved (and more importantly, remembered for fear of repeating), and “The House in the Middle” is a natural choice to represent the era. My one question: How did this make the NFR before the definitive Cold War short, “Duck and Cover”?

Somebody Gets One: This is another NFR film with no official credits, other than the organizations responsible for it. I just want to know who the narrator is. Did he work for the FCDA? And why is he so condescending towards my housekeeping skills? How’s your sterile SRO looking, buddy?

Wow, That’s Dated: Once more for the people in the back: this movie suggests that we will survive the next atomic bomb if we clean our yards and paint our walls. There is something simultaneously wholesome and terrifying about that message.

Seriously, Oscars?: Unsurprisingly, there was no Oscar love for “The House in the Middle”. For the record: 1954’s Best Documentary Short winner was “Thursday’s Children”, a Richard Burton-narrated film that taught the basics of lip reading.

Other notes

• After WWII, America lost interest in its civil defense programs because, ya know, we won. This attitude continued until 1949 when the Soviet Union had their first atomic bomb detonation, and then all of a sudden President Truman felt the need to create the Federal Civil Defense Administration. One of the FCDA’s main objectives: all the propaganda all the time! One of their first films was the aforementioned “Duck and Cover”. At least that one had a catchy jingle.
• I cannot find any information about the National Clean Up – Paint Up – Fix Up Bureau, other than its connection to this film. It’s almost like the NCUPUFUB was concocted by the FCDA to help the National Paint, Varnish and Lacquer Association sell paint! Follow the money!
• Interestingly enough, this is a revised version of a 1953 television short also called “The House in the Middle”. As best I can tell the 1953 version is shorter, in black-and-white, and, according to Kelly Chisholm, “disconcertingly straightforward”. The 1954 revision was co-sponsored by the NCUPUFUB, and is one of the rare propaganda shorts of the era in color.
• Once again, I do not care for this narrator’s holier-than-thou attitude regarding the condition of these houses. If only they were made of glass so he would think twice before throwing stones.
• There are a few instant replays of the blasts using “stop-motion”. Don’t they mean “slow-motion”?
• This short bemoans one house’s “lack of wire-safe housekeeping”. And that’s why we insulate our walls, people! I didn’t realize all that HGTV has been preparing me to survive World War III.
• “The House in the Middle” should not be confused with the NFR short “The House I Live In” starring Frank Sinatra. Though now I’m curious if Ol’ Blue Eyes could have survived a nuclear attack. Let’s see your mob connections help you now, Francis!
• Please narrator, continue to emphasize that the house in the middle is a “clean, white house”. Did we need to bring institutional racism into this?
• When all is said and done, this a weird remake of “The Three Little Pigs”.

Legacy

• The FCDA was not long for this world, merging with the Office of Defense Mobilization in 1958 to become the Office of Civil and Defense Mobilization. As the threat of nuclear war diminished, these and similar civil defense agencies were absolved. The remnants of these organizations can be found in today’s Department of Homeland Security and Federal Emergency Management Agency (aka FEMA). Anyone who lived through the George W. Bush presidency knows that these groups are doing a heckuva job.
• The National Paint, Varnish and Lacquer Association has changed its name over the years, but it’s still going strong as the American Coatings Association. Here’s their website, with a comprehensive history of paint in America (it goes back to 1700!).
• I’m pretty confident one of the mushroom cloud shots from this movie reappears in “Dr. Strangelove”.

#357) The Life of Emile Zola (1937)

OR “An Affair to Remember”

Directed by William Dieterle

Written by Norman Reilly Raine & Heinz Herald & Geza Herczeg. Story by Herald and Herczeg. Based on the biography “Zola and His Time” by Matthew Josephson.

Class of 2000

The Plot: Paul Muni is Émile Zola, the celebrated French writer famous for his realistic novels, and equally famous for his outspoken opinions on the current state of France. In 1894, Jewish French Army officer Alfred Dreyfus (Joseph Schildkraut) is found guilty of treason and exiled on Devil’s Island. A few years later, new evidence suggests that Dreyfus is innocent, and his wife Lucie (Gale Sondergaard) pleads for Zola to support her husband and sway public opinion. Zola agrees, writing an open letter condemning the French government (“J’Accuse…!”), which gets him sued for libel, therefore bringing the Dreyfus Affair back into the courts. Can the father of naturalism save Dreyfus and expose the French Army’s corruption? And seeing how this a ‘30s studio film, can we ix-nay the whole ew-Jay angle?

Why It Matters: The NFR calls the film an “experiment in grandeur” from Warner Bros. in the vein of MGM’s “high-brow opulence”.

But Does It Really?: This one gets an “historical significance” pass. “Zola” is a noteworthy film primarily for highlighting how anti-Semitism was depicted (or not) in the films of the ‘30s, as the Nazis were gaining more power in Europe. Entertainment-wise, Muni is giving an enjoyable grandstanding performance, but most of the movie hinges on your prior knowledge of Émile Zola and the Dreyfus Affair, both of which are largely forgotten today. “Zola” is an interesting watch, but its historical significance is primarily academic, and a modern viewing may be reserved for hardcore film buffs.

Everybody Gets One: Emigrating from 1930s Germany, William Dieterle quickly became known as “the quintessential liberal director of the ‘30s”, specializing in biopics of historical figures fighting for a just cause. His 1938 film “Blockcade” – an anti-fascist drama about the Spanish Civil War – sparked controversy upon its release, and ultimately led to Dieterle being “graylisted” during the Hollywood Witch Hunt of the ‘50s.

Wow, That’s Dated: Mainly the ‘30s biopic standards of playing fast and loose with historical license. According to this film, everything Émile Zola did in the first part of his life was setup to a later-in-life payoff.

Seriously, Oscars?: “The Life of Emile Zola” was a hit, and led the Oscar pack with 10 nominations. The 1938 Oscars spread the wealth amongst several films, but “Zola” still managed three important wins: Picture, Supporting Actor (Schildkraut), and Adapted Screenplay. William Dieterle lost the only Best Director nomination of his career to Leo McCarey for “The Awful Truth”, and had Paul Muni not won Best Actor the year before (for playing Louis Pasteur), he probably would have prevailed over Spencer Tracy in “Captains Courageous”.

Other notes

• To name just a few of the film’s liberties with the real Émile Zola: Zola was never roommates with painter Paul Cézanne, nor did they maintain a lifelong friendship. In addition, Zola was interested in the Dreyfus Affair from the very beginning, and was not persuaded to write “J’Accuse” by Dreyfus’ wife.
• As I’ve come to expect, no one in this movie has a French accent. Maybe this all takes place in Paris, Texas?
• It’s a shame Muni didn’t continue his film career, because his Zola is a delight. Opinionated, steadfast, yet lovable and never repellent. 41-year-old Muni convincingly plays Zola from age 22 to 62. He was the Daniel Day-Lewis of his day…Lewis.
• So whenever Zola was upset about something his solution was to write a book? Hey, if it pays the bills…
• Easily the most notable omission in adapting this story to film: any mention to Dreyfus being subjected to anti-Semitism is deleted and, while the word “Jew” is shown in print once, it is never spoken aloud in the film. Some say Jack Warner refused to let the word “Jew” be said for fear of upsetting the Nazis, others believe studios in general practiced extreme caution determining what was and wasn’t suitable subject matter. Regardless, removing the anti-Semitism aspects of the Dreyfus Affair is like removing the racial elements of the O.J. Simpson Trial.
• Once Zola agrees to write “J’Accuse” and get the ball rolling on a re-trial, the film picks up steam. The plodding biopic elements are replaced with an inherently dramatic courtroom drama.
• Wait, is this where shouting “J’accuse!” comes from? I had no idea!
• No offense to Joseph Schildkraut, but I think his Oscar win had more to do with sympathy towards the character rather than the performance. But hey, I wasn’t there; maybe he campaigned well.
• And now we arrive at Paul Muni’s Oscar clip: Zola’s summation to the court. It is one uninterrupted three-minute take, and Muni nails it. I suspect the courtroom crowd did not have to act when they burst into applause.

• This film lays on the Christ allegory a bit too heavily. Both Dreyfus and Zola are compared to the Son of God during the film. They’re both important figures, but come on.
• Oh the irony of having someone convicted of forgery write a signed confession.
• One final conflating of the facts: Zola did not die the same day Dreyfus was reinstated into the French Army. The two never met, though Dreyfus did attend the funeral.

Legacy

• 1937 was the peak of Paul Muni’s Hollywood career, “Zola” being one of three films he starred in that year. Increasingly dissatisfied with moviemaking and stardom, Muni did not renew with Warner Bros. when his contract expired. He returned to the theater, most memorably in the original Broadway production of another famous court case: “Inherit the Wind”.

• Joseph Schildkraut would play another Jewish figure that battled wrongful persecution: Otto Frank in 1959’s “The Diary of Anne Frank”.

• There have been a handful of other film adaptations of the Dreyfus affair, notably “I Accuse!” directed by and starring Jose Ferrer, and the HBO movie “Prisoner of Honor” starring Oliver Reed and Richard Dreyfuss (no relation).

Further Reading: The part that “Zola” plays in how the Hollywood studios depicted anti-Semitism is explored further in two 2013 books: Ben Urwand’s “The Collaboration: Hollywood’s Pact with Hitler” and Thomas Doherty’s “Hollywood and Hitler, 1933-1939”.

Further Viewing: In 1899, as the Dreyfus case was being reopened, Georges Méliès filmed eleven short scenes depicting events from the original Dreyfus affair. “The Dreyfus Affair” series was very popular with the French public, many of whom thought these recreations were the real events.

#356) The Emperor Jones (1933)

OR “Ah! Wilderness!”

Directed by Dudley Murphy

Written by DuBose Heyward. Based on the play by Eugene O’Neill.

Class of 1999

No trailer, but here’s this movie’s “Take a Shot” moment.

The Plot: Brutus Jones (Paul Robeson) is a charming, albeit temperamental African-American tempted by the sinful city living he is exposed to as a porter. During a crap game, Jones stabs and kills his friend Jeff (Frank H. Wilson), and is sentenced to a chain gang. Jones escapes, and ends up on an island off of Haiti. After becoming business partners with shady trader Smithers (Dudley Digges), Jones successfully takes over the island, and crowns himself “Emperor”. The power immediately goes to Jones’ head, but a tribal revolt (and an extended monologue in the jungle) is not too far behind.

Why It Matters: The NFR calls Robeson’s performance “powerful”, and then just spoils the whole darn movie.

But Does It Really?: I’m on the fence with this one. It definitely stands out from other films of the era, with its progressive casting and (then) experimental camerawork, but the increasingly uneasy racial discussions make for an uncomfortable modern viewing. Ultimately I’ll give “The Emperor Jones” a pass as a representation of Paul Robeson for something other than belting “Ol’ Man River”. Like many early African-American films on this list, do your homework before watching “The Emperor Jones”.

Everybody Gets One: Many of the film’s supporting players were performers from Broadway, opera, and minstrelsy. Among the actors in minor roles is future legendary comedian and Chitlin’ Circuit veteran Moms Mabley! “The Emperor Jones” is currently the only film adaptation of a Eugene O’Neill play to make the NFR. My prediction: the next one will be the 1930 “Anna Christie” starring Greta Garbo (with 1962’s “Long Day’s Journey Into Night” a potential spoiler).

Wow, That’s Dated: The lost profession of train porter. Also the slurs. Mainly the slurs.

Seriously, Oscars?: United Artists was considered a smaller independent studio compared to the larger Hollywood studios of the day (Warner Bros., MGM, etc), and box office disappointment “The Emperor Jones” was left out of the Oscars. United Artists’ only major contender at the 1933 Oscars was a film they distributed but did not produce: English import “The Private Life of Henry VIII”.

Other notes

• Let’s get this out of the way: most of the controversy surrounding “The Emperor Jones” – then and now – was O’Neill’s abundant usage of a certain racial slur that shall go unnamed. O’Neill based the character of Brutus off of a sailor he had known in his waterfront days, but at the end of the day this reasoning is still a white person defending their use of an offensive epithet. Charles Sidney Gilpin, Broadway’s original Brutus Jones, objected to the term and opted to substitute “negro” during his performances. When “Jones” was revived in 1925, O’Neill bypassed Gilpin in favor of a then-unknown Paul Robeson, which led to Robeson reprising the role for the film. It should go without saying, but O’Neill’s original text is restored for the film.
• Screenwriter DuBose Heyward was a few years away from his most famous work, the libretto for “Porgy and Bess”. Everyone has a niche, apparently Heyward’s was writing super stereotypical dialogue for African-Americans.
• Dudley Murphy got his start writing and directing shorts, including fellow NFR entries “St. Louis Blues” and “Black and Tan”, the latter also featuring “Jones” co-star Fredi Washington.
• To the best of my knowledge there’s no singing in the original play, but we cast Paul Robeson as the lead and dammit we’re gonna make him sing!
• Light-skinned African-American Fredi Washington had to reshoot all of her scenes when the producers determined she appeared white alongside Paul Robeson (and miscegenation in the movies was still very taboo). Ms. Washington’s reaction to these reshoots (in essentially blackface) goes unrecorded.

• A ‘30s chain gang? Say hi to Paul Muni for me…oh no he escaped!
• Among the countless pre-code subjects we considered taboo back in 1933 was black-on-white violence. The shot of Brutus hitting a white prison guard over the head with a shovel was removed from the final film, leaving an obvious and jarring cut. If you want to see an approximation of that scene, I feel like “Blazing Saddles” does the trick.
• Once we get on the island the slurs start flying left and right. It’s a difficult viewing experience. Interestingly enough, in some scenes there are sudden cuts before and after the slurs, leading me to believe the offensive terms were deleted from various prints and restored here.
• For all the film’s cons, Robeson is very good, and his Brutus is allowed to be a more dimensional character than African-Americans were allowed to be in the 1930s. There are good turns from the supporting cast as well, but like the original stage play, this is Brutus’ show.
• The final third of the movie is the only part that is faithful to the stage version. The entire play is essentially an extended monologue for Brutus, and the film visualizes several scenes that are mentioned but not seen on stage. It’s definitely a tonal shift for the movie, due to Brutus suddenly speaking in O’Neill’s trademark prose. This all being said, O’Neill signed off on the film’s departures from his text.

• If you can, make sure to watch the restored Criterion Collection version of “Emperor Jones”. If nothing else, they restore the blue tint that the jungle scenes originally had. Nice throwback to when this was commonplace in the silent era.
• My final handwritten note sums up my overall experience with this movie: “Ohhhhhhhhkay.”

Legacy

• The play and film version of “Emperor Jones” made a star out of Paul Robeson, one of the first African-American actors to crossover into white America. Robeson was grateful for the exposure “Emperor Jones” gave him, but struggled with its racially insensitive characterizations, forming the foundation for his subsequent political activism and involvement with the Civil Rights Movement.

• Productions of “The Emperor Jones” saw a resurgence in the 1950s, primarily in response to Robeson being blacklisted for alleged Communist sympathies. A 1955 TV production starred a young Ossie Davis.
• An opera based on “Emperor Jones” premiered in 1933. Although Robeson never performed in the show, he did sing selections from it in the 1936 film “The Song of Freedom”.

• As for the film itself, its original release was limited: white theaters didn’t want to carry a movie with an African-American lead, and several black organizations condemned the movie for its language and depictions of African-Americans. “The Emperor Jones” wasn’t rediscovered and reappraised until the ‘70s when Paul Robeson started raking in the lifetime achievement awards and tributes.