The production of THE EMPEROR JONES was a notable event on Broadway in 1920 and 1921. The success of THE EMPEROR JONES, along with ANNA CHRISTIE and THE HAIRY APE, was a triumph and a vindication of a cultural movement of which Eugene O’Neill was an integral part. He was involved with a movement of cultural protest, of protest against the business-centered civilization of America, against philistinism, puritanism and vulgarity. Art was to become truer, fresher, and unconventional. It was to be used as a weapon against the dominant and inadequate culture of the time.
This play deals with the misery of man, not in a social sense but in a metaphysical one. The central character is one of the insulted and injured, a black man. O’Neill does not dwell on the social forces which have insulted and injured him. For O’Neill, the social insult and injury are not so much facts in themselves as symbols of man’s cosmic situation.
The “emperor,” Brutus Jones, does not typify the African American, even though we see him reliving the experience of his oppression. He typifies all men, with their raw ignorance and hysterical fear hidden under layers of intellect. Like Oedipus, Jones is inordinately proud of his mind; he brags of the craft by which he was able to win control of the West Indian nation which he rules, and he brags of the courage which his rationalism gives him. But whether or not by the author’s design, he is called BRUTUS Jones; this little Caesar contains within himself his own assassin whose gradual ascendancy makes up the plot. Confronted with loneliness and dread, the emperor begins to slay himself; the sovereign reason begins to give way. Jones’s craft, his rationalism, and his self-assurance peel from him like the layers of an onion; he goes backward through social fears to very fear itself, the fear of the universe which lies in primitive religion. The throb of the tomtom pursues him through the fear-infested jungle, as Fate pursues Oedipus. If we consider THE EMPEROR JONES as a kind of philosophic masque it comes to much the same conclusion that Sophocles reached: The rational intellect of man is not able to cope with the inscrutable ways of life.
THE EMPEROR JONES by Eugene O’Neill
Cast of Charactors:
Brutus Jones . . . Emperor
Henry Smithers . . . A Cockney Trader
An old Native Woman
Lem . . . A Native Chief
Soldiers . . . Adherents of Lem
Jeff; the Little Formless Fears; the Negro Convicts; the prison Guard; the Planter; the Auctioneer; the Slaves; the Congo Witch-Doctor; the Crocodile God.
The action of the play takes place on an island in the West Indies that is as yet not self-determined by white Marines. The form of native government is, for the time being, an empire.
On May 6, 1924, THE EMPEROR JONES opened with Paul Robeson in the title role. The role of Brutus Jones, an ex-Pullman porter who has set himself over the inhabitants of a West Indian island, is a theatrical tour de force. He is the focus of the action for five scenes as his subjects revolt against his tyranny and corruption, and he attempts to escape through the jungle. There the maddening sounds of drums and his own buried ghosts hound him until he is captured and killed.
His performance was a great success and received rave notices. Alexander Woolcott thought he was “brilliant;” the
Herald-Tribune
review said that Robeson’s portrayal of Brutus Jones was “as strong in its own right” as the performance of Charles Gilpin who originated the role.
The New York Telegram
and
Evening Mail
described the audience’s reaction to the young actor: “Robeson was dragged before the curtain by men and women who rose to their feet and applauded. When the ache in their arms stopped their hands, they used their voices, shouted meaningless words, gave hoarse throaty cries . . . the ovation was for Robeson, for his emotional strength, for his super acting.”
The Negro press was more reserved about the drama. They did think that Robeson possessed the qualities that could make him transcend race as an actor. “Oh!” said the
Pittsburg Courier
, “What a Brutus or Anthony he would make.”(2)
In 1933 Robeson would finally play in film the role of Brutus Jones that he had made famous on the stage. DuBose Heyward was commissioned to adapt the script, Dudley Murphy was named as director, and J. R. Johnson was engaged as musical director. Heyward actually wrote almost an entire new play, in which Jones’s arrival in Haiti is preceded by events only alluded to in the original play.
THE EMPEROR JONES was filmed twenty minutes from 42nd Street and Broadway at the old Paramount Studios in Astoria, Long Island. Most of the shots were staged inside. One location was prohibited; Robeson’s contract stipulated that he would not have to go south.
The film opened in September 1933 at the Rivoli Theater downtown and at the Roosevelt Theater in Harlem, where during the first week of it run, blacks lined up and bought tickets that amounted to $10,000. Black heroes were rare in the movies, and when Jones snarled, “Maybe I killed one man in the States and maybe I’ll kill another right now,” the Harlem audience roared.
Critical response to the film was divided, although Robeson’s acting was highly praised. The black press, at first favorable, found upon reflection that the the film was far from perfect because it perpetuated a stereotype. Some felt the film reinforced society’s false image of blacks and that blacks could not afford to take a detached view of their art. Three years later, a conference of Marcus Garvey’s United Negro Improvement Association held in Canada would condemn THE EMPEROR JONES as part of “an international conspiracy to disparage and crush the aspirations of Negroes toward higher culture and civilization and to impress upon them their inferiority.”
Although Robeson would later come to regret the film, he saw it at first chiefly as a work of art. He made films in England and in Hollywood and in 1939 he virtually retired from films.
“I thought I could do something for the Negro race in films, show the truth about them and other people, too. I used to do my part and go away feeling satisfied, thought everything was O.K. Well it wasn’t. The industry was not prepared to permit me to portray the life or express the living interests, hopes and aspirations of the struggling people from whom I come. You bet they will never let me play a part in a film in which a Negro is on top.” (3)
Paul Robeson was a legendary figure of his time. He had brilliant intellect and authentic athletic ability. The son of a former slave, he was born in Princeton, New Jersey, in 1889. In high school he was an honor student, and he won a scholarship to Rutgers University at a time when there were no blacks there. He had astonishing athletic ability. A four-letter man, he was on the All-American football team in 1918. At the time he was called the greatest defensive end ever. He also had a great academic record. He was an honor student, a 12-letter athlete, a football All-American in 1917, and an award winner in oratory. He was elected to Phi Beta Kappa, graduated with honors, and went on to earn his LL.B. at Columbia University Law School. Performing on stage in THE EMPEROR JONES earned him critical praise as an actor and singer. There is a point in the play where the actor playing Jones is called upon to whistle, and he sang instead; this was to bring him a new career as a singer.
Plagued by racism, Robeson escaped to Europe where he spent much of his time acting on stage and in films. Robeson triumphed in London in his first OTHELLO. He had strong political beliefs. In the 1930s he made several trips to Russia. He spoke out against the Nazis. He entertained anti-Franco, anti-Fascist Loyalist troops during the Spanish Civil War. He also supported the Committee to Aid China, and he became chairman of the Council on African Affairs.
In the 1940s Robeson played OTHELLO on Broadway to great acclaim. After World War II, he campaigned for the rights of African Americans and it was at this time that Robeson was denied a passport and barred from concert halls. This was the time of the anti-Communist movement and the McCarthy hearings. In 1958 his passport was reissued and he went abroad to give concerts and appear on stage.