Public Domain via Wikimedia Commons
Poitier, Belafonte and Heston at 1963 Civil Rights March
Sidney Poitier, Harry Belafonte and Charlton Heston at the 1963 Civil Rights March
It was 1953 in Milwaukee when I first saw the devastatingly handsome Harry Belafonte on screen, at the Fern Theater, at North Third and West Clarke. The movie was Bright Road, his film debut, co-starring beautiful Dorothy Dandridge, with whom he later appeared in Carmen Jones (1954) and Island in the Sun (1957).
When hearing his smooth, albeit husky voice in Bright Road singing “Gold in the Morning Sun,” I was hooked for all time. In the years since, I made it my business to never miss a Belafonte movie, of which there were many. Thus, when I learned of his April 24 passing in his New York City home at 96, I was devastated.
Despite his well-deserved reputation as a calypso singer—with record hits such as “Jamaica Farewell,” “Matilda,” “John Henry,” “Mama Look a Boo Boo,” “Island in the Sun” and “Day-O-The Banana Boat Song”—my best memories are of his memorable work in films. My faves are dramatic roles in Odds Against Tomorrow and The World, the Flesh and the Devil (1959); White Man’s Burden (1995); Kansas City (1996); Bobby (2006) and Black Kkklansman(2018).
In the epoch-making Bobby, Belafonte is close pals with Anthony Hopkins, who portrays the Ambassador Hotel’s long-time greeter. They play chess in the lobby and reminisce about old times the afternoon and night Robert F. Kennedy is assassinated in June 1968. Both men are visibly dazed.
How well I remember early 1959—when in the Army as a young 2nd lieutenant at Fort Belvoir, Virginia—passed the time as night duty officer reading William P. McGivern’s Odds Against Tomorrow. Always a fan of McGivern’s tough novels, I later learned that it became a tingling film noir by HarBel Productions starring Belafonte, who selected the black-listed Abraham Polonsky to write the script.
Co-Starring Robert Ryan, Shelly Winters, Ed Begley and Gloria Grahame, this tough-as-nails film—with its strong black vs. white racial sub-plot—revolved around a daring bank robbery in upstate New York. A memorable night club scene where Belafonte performed, featured supporting actors Robert Earl Jones, Cicely Tyson, Carmen DeLavalade and singer Mae Barnes.
The film’s startling ending—in which antagonists Belafonte and Ryan were killed atop an exploding chemical plant—convincingly channeled 1949’s White Heat, where James Cagney died shouting, “Made it Ma! Top of the world!”
'Calypso' by Harry Belafonte
Belafonte also powerfully addressed difficult black-white race relations in The World, the Flesh and the Devil and White Man’s Burden. In the first, Belafonte, white Inger Stevens and white Mel Ferrer survive a world-wide nuclear accident and meet in deserted Manhattan. Racial sparks fly as the two men compete for beautiful blonde Stevens. When I saw the movie in a post theater at Fort Belvoir, loud boos emanated from white soldiers in the audience.
In the latter—a political allegory where blacks are a wealthy, white-collar majority and whites are an unruly lower-class —Belafonte is kidnapped and terrorized by white John Travolta, blamed for costing him his factory job.
Island in the Sun, Belafonte bested land-owner James Mason in a political debate, and spurned the advances of beautiful white Joan Fontaine. The same film also featured an interracial romance between Dandridge and white John Justin.
During his long career, Belafonte co-starred with close friend Sidney Poitier in Buck and the Preacher (1972); Let’s Do It Again (1975), and A Piece of the Action (1977). In 1974’s Uptown Saturday Night with Poitier, Belafonte—as gangster “Geechie” Dan Beauford—scored in puffed-up cheeks with a comedic send-up of Marlon Brando’s Don Corleone in The Godfather (1972).
Interestingly, Poitier was effusive in his praise of Belafonte when I interviewed him in Milwaukee in 1963 at Downtown’s Strand Theater, where he was promoting his Oscar-winning role in Lillies of the Field.
By the same token, the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. did likewise in 1964, during my interview at Milwaukee’s Schroeder Hotel downtown. He loved Belafonte, who was with him for several civil rights protests in the South. Belafonte also invited Burt Lancaster, Charlton Heston and Brando to Washington in August 1963, when Dr. King delivered his famous “I Have a Dream” speech.
In other personal Belfaonte memories, there was the mid-1970s when my late wife—Milwaukee’s Odell Carter—gleefully reported that she ran into Harry at a department store near our White Plains, New York home. And she was giddy over how he’d conversed with her after noting that she’d recognized him.
Another of my noteworthy Belafonte memories was at the Shaker Heights Theater in a wealthy Cleveland suburb, when Odell and I attended the shattering 1970 documentary King: A Filmed Record … Montgomery to Memphis. Harry was among a bevy of stars in the one-night showing, and when he appeared, the capacity crowd of black and white people burst into cheers.
Finally, in what now seems like a lasting tribute to Harry Belafonte, his lilting “Day-O” refrain often is played during NBA games. Yet, I wonder if many in attendance—or watching on TV—are aware that it is his voice? I sure hope so.
