Public Domain
Brock Peters in ‘The L-Shaped Room’
Brock Peters in ‘The L-Shaped Room’
With the Thanksgiving holiday upon us, I find myself again offering thanks to one of my all-time favorite actors, the late, great Brock Peters. Happily, in April 1990, I was privileged to talk at length with this great Black star of screen and stage, about the Academy Awards’ appalling failure—at the time—to recognize Black performers.
“It’s really a reflection of our society,” he told me. “There’s bound to be race consciousness. This goes for how some Academy members vote”—reacting to the fact that by then, only three Blacks had won acting Oscars in the 60-year history of the awards.
A member of the Academy himself, Peters was quick to point out, however, that the Oscars primarily are predicated on the marketplace. “It deteriorates into a commercial process that becomes hoopla and a horse race,” he knowingly explained.
“A winning picture or actor takes on a second life,” Peters continued, “which means profits for a studio or production company. If a Black actor is nominated, it’s usually because some people feel he or she will be able to do likewise. It has nothing to do with a great liberality springing forth.”
Times Have Changed
Amen to that. These days, it may be difficult for younger people to imagine, but at the time of my interview with Peters, only 22 Blacks had been nominated for acting out of a total of 1,084 selected since the first year of the Oscars in 1927. This, despite all of the incandescent work by talented people such as Peters, which lit-up the silver screen.
Peters’ accomplished work on the legitimate stage was enhanced by his booming voice and body language in a variety of plays. I particularly enjoyed his role as controversial boxer Jack Jefferson, a.k.a. Jack Johnson, in the road company of The Great White Hope, which I saw at the storied Hanna Theater in Cleveland.
However, Peters probably is best known for his sensitive movie portrayal of a Deep South handyman wrongly accused of rape in 1962’s To Kill a Mockingbird—owing, perhaps, to Gregory Peck’s Oscar-winning turn as his white defense attorney, Atticus Finch. And when that legendary actor passed away at 87 in June 2003, Peters tenderly eulogized him at a Los Angeles memorial service.
Peters told mourners how Peck awakened him with an early Sunday telephone call prior to the beginning of shooting the movie to welcome him to the production. He said he was so surprised by the call—and Peck’s distinctive voice—that he dropped the phone.
“In art, there is compassion; in compassion, there is humanity; with humanity, there is generosity. Gregory Peck gave us these attributes in full measure…” Peters intoned.
Other Notable Films
Although riveting as Tom Robinson in Mockingbird, I feel the erudite, forceful Peters was stronger in several other notable films, where his stunning facial features were unforgettable in close-ups. My three favorites were a pair of gritty New York City dramas—The Pawnbroker (1965) and The Incident (1967)—along with Lost in the Stars (1974).
Equally adept at playing believable, admirable and despicable characters, Peters’ white-suited slumlord-pimp in The Pawnbroker clearly was his best villain. His threatening manner and language with the film’s star, Rod Steiger, was a breakthrough in Black-on-white movie bullying. On the other hand, Peters’ combative, terrorized subway passenger who falters in The Incident, still resonates strongly today.
As the simmering husband of the wonderful Ruby Dee, Peters loudly argues with a token booth clerk before boarding an early morning, sparsely populated downtown train—only to be racially humiliated by a pair of drunken, white young punks (Martin Sheen and Tony Musante). After failing to retaliate, insult is added to injury for Peters as he is racially profiled and roughed-up by white cops at the 42nd St. station.
In the Maxwell Anderson-Kurt Weill musical Lost in the Stars—based on Alan Paton’s novel Cry the Beloved Country—Peters’ sensitive portrayal of a South African minister was breathtaking. Indeed, his work rivaled that of the celebrated Canada Lee in the exquisite, straight dramatic version, filmed under the book’s title in 1951.
Additional films in Peters’ long, distinguished career include Carmen Jones (1954); Porgy and Bess (1959); Heavens Above and The L-Shaped Room(1963); Major Dundee (1965); P.J. (1968); The McMasters (1970); Black Girl and Soylent Green (1973), Framed (1975) and Two-Minute Warning (1976), among others.
Smoldering Strength
It’s interesting to note that his immense talent and dramatic presence permitted him to effectively play characters that might be Black or white—such as Charlton Heston’s tough police boss in the futuristic Soylent Green. Yet, Peters’ dark-skinned presence lent a smoldering strength and credibility which he asserted in roles such as a returning Civil War soldier jousting with ranch owner Burl Ives in The McMasters.
Among the best memories of my conversation with Peters’ 33 years ago—which come to mind every March at Oscar time—was his thought about the relative importance of the Academy Awards themselves. To wit:
“I think it’s unfair to judge actors in roles that are not comparable,” he said. “I’d rather choose five in each category among the many beautiful performances every year, without picking a winner.” And who better to speak of beautiful performances than the late, great Brock Peters, whose career was replete with them.
Sadly, Peters passed away at 78 in 2005—and I especially miss him every year at Thanksgiving. That’s when I offer my heartfelt thanks for his immense acting talent.
