TSo it is with the death of an actor who starred in a hugely popular franchise: Since almost everyone on the planet knows who Darth Vader is, almost any mainstream coverage of James Earl Jones’ death must associate him primarily with that role. But Jones, who was born in Mississippi in 1931 and died on September 9 at the age of 93, did so much more – as an actor, he Was so much more. His career was so long and so varied that there is no efficient way to go through it. And he worked so much – in films, on television and in the theatre – that we can only believe that he truly loved his craft. The purity of that love is evident in every role, from the big to the small. He left us with plenty.
Jones was nominated for an Oscar only once, for his leading role as boxer Jack Jefferson in Martin Ritt’s 1971 drama The great white hope. He received the first of his two Tony Awards for the same role on Broadway in 1969; the second in 1987 for his portrayal of the working man and former Negro League baseball star Troy Maxson in August Wilson’s Fences. In 1991, Jones won two Emmys, one for his portrayal of private detective Gabriel Bird in Gabriel’s Fire, the other for his supporting role in the television film heatwave, a drama about the Watts racial riots in 1965. In 1977 he won a Grammy for his spoken word album The Christmas Miracle by Jonathan Toomey. And in 2012, he finally received an honorary Oscar in recognition of his extensive film career.
But awards are not our only measure of greatness; in fact, they are a pretty poor one. Although Jones was a contemporary of actors like Sidney Poitier and Harry Belafonte, his career did not reach the same heights; in America at the time, we only had room for a limited number of black stars – our lack of imagination, not to mention tolerance, is part of the history we must reckon with. But Jones brought the deepest kind of joy to audiences, and that gift should never be underestimated. His sonorous, chilling baritone brought the dramatic complexity of Darth Vader to life in the original star Wars trilogy and several spin-offs. And as the voice of royal Mufasa in both versions of The Lion King, He inspired respect, coupled with love – he was a cartoon lion to look up to.
Jones’ voice was so rich, with its rich, rolling vowels, that it seemed to come from the depths of the sea. He had cultivated this voice as a young drama student to control his stutter – a paradigm of turning straw into gold. Even though Jones didn’t get many major leading roles, the cumulative effect of his hundreds of performances and successes is a kind of star quality. We know him from his roles in three films based on Tom Clancy novels. (The Hunt for Red October, The Hour of the Patriots, And Clear and present danger)out of Field of Dreams, of his performances – as himself – on Sesame Street. It’s impossible to pick a favorite James Earl Jones performance, but here are two possibilities: His role as Roop, the charming, mischievous garbage man who courts Diahann Carroll in the wonderful 1974 love story Claudine, and his double role as a scientist and feverish version of an African shaman in John Boorman’s crazy The Exorcist II: The Heretic, from 1977. Although people cheered The Heretic after its release, his mad genius was reassessed. And Jones is amazing. He appears in a dream sequence—or is it reality?—scowling from beneath an elaborate locust headdress, a gold-colored helmet adorned with quivering antennae and huge, jewel-like, all-seeing eyes. With this outlandish headgear, he doesn’t just capture your attention, he locks you in his dream. You want to laugh, but you can’t. That is what a great character actor can do, and sometimes it’s everything.
