Paul Robeson on Film

It’s ironic that Rutgers alumnus Paul Robeson, a man revered for his mellifluous bass-baritone, couldn’t use it in his first two films. He made his screen debut in 1925, appearing in the silent film Body and Soul, and starred five years later in Borderline, an experimental non-talkie shot in Switzerland. Although Robeson’s voice wasn’t featured in either, his charisma “careens through the screen,” as one film historian puts it. His cinematic career, an addendum to his thriving singing and stage-acting engagements, was seemingly off to a good start.

His next film, the screen version of The Emperor Jones, the Eugene O’Neill play that helped launch Robeson’s stage career, certainly showcased all of his talents. But it also drudged up a dilemma he was already facing with theatrical performances: how to avoid playing stereotypes.

“In some of the films, he was cast in the role of the ‘noble savage’ – you know, he’s a prince in Africa,” says Wayne Glasker, an associate professor at Rutgers University-Camden with expertise in African-American and 20th-century U.S. history. “And that’s not seen in a very favorable light. He wanted to get beyond those roles.”

Paul Robeson on the set of Show Boat, the marquee film performance of his career. (Photo: Courtesy of Howard University Libraries)

Putting Robeson on celluloid made sense. By 1933, when The Emperor Jones was released, the film industry, then transitioning from silent films to talkies, was big business. And Robeson, who had already played Othello on stage, was arguably the country’s best-known African-American singer and stage actor. He got top billing and a hefty paycheck for Jones, playing a Pullman porter who, through a series of misadventures, becomes emperor of a Caribbean island.  

Although some critics lauded Robeson for taking on the complicated role, others, citing the character’s morally questionable behavior, expressed disappointment. One fellow actor called the play “damaging propaganda against the Negro.”

But Robeson and his wife-manager, Eslanda, knew he’d have to take on black roles written by whites to advance his career, hoping that he would eventually land roles matching his talents. Over the next decade, he appeared in eight feature films, including Show Boat, in which he played Joe, the stevedore who famously sings “Ol’ Man River.” And all along, the black press continued to criticize his role choices.   

Two films were exceptions. In Song of Freedom, he plays an English dockworker whose singing voice lands him a performing career as well as the realization that he’s the descendant of African royalty. After visiting his homeland, he uses his career to fundraise for his people. Robeson told a reporter that playing the role of a smart, semi-aristocratic man “gives me a real part for the first time.”

Three years later, in 1939, he took on the role of an unemployed American who finds work in the Welsh mines and gets involved in the miners’ struggles to lead sustainable lives. His involvement in the film seemed fateful. Ten years prior, while performing in London, Robeson came across a Welsh miners’ protest march and, after joining in, would continue to support their cause both in name and with concert receipts for years to come.

But in 1942, the film Tales of Manhattan dashed Robeson’s cinematic dreams. He and a few other African-American actors took on the roles of sharecroppers who one day find a coat stuffed with money. They decide to share it with their community – a detail that appealed to Robeson’s social-activist leanings. But the film’s condescending depiction of the sharecroppers turned critics against the actors. Soon after its release, he called a press conference to announce that he would no longer act in films.

As frustrated as he was with filmmaking, Robeson challenged a system rigged against African Americans. “I think one of the challenges for him – and it continues today, although it’s changed to a great degree – is that Hollywood filmmakers didn’t know what to do with talented actors of color,” says John Keene, professor and chair of the Department of African-American and African Studies at Rutgers University-Newark. “Given the roles he had, again and again he does the most with what he’s given.”

Film historians of note – including those at the Toronto International Film Festival and the Criterion Collection – concur, recognizing Robeson as a film pioneer who paved the way for generations of African-American actors.  

Professor Salamishah Tillet, associate director of the Clement A. Price Institute on Ethnicity, Culture, and the Modern Experience at Rutgers-Newark, believes that if Robeson were graduating from Rutgers today, he “would go into filmmaking. The younger generation of artists have a lot more control and power to get their stories out there. And with new technology, maybe he’d be able to create the space he did on stage in film.”

Rutgers is honoring Paul Robeson’s legacy as a scholar, athlete, actor, singer and global activist in a yearlong celebration to mark the 100th anniversary of his graduation. Read more from our ongoing series on Robeson's life and learn more about the celebration by visiting robeson100.rutgers.edu or by following #Robeson100 on social media.