Despite the many flaws (stagey in the extreme), the movie remains a Paul Robeson showcase since he appears in almost every scene. And what a commanding figure he is. There's no difficulty believing his character's ability to rise to the top of any endeavor. The trouble is that Jones (Robeson) is both black and egotistical, a risky combination in Jim Crow America of the time. As a black, the best Jones can hope for is a menial position somewhere in the president's retinue, which he fantasizes about. As a proud and talented man, he remains ambitious, but with the normal avenues closed off.
Thus, when he gets the opportunity to seize one-man rule over a poor black Caribbean island, he grabs it. Unfortunately, his central character flaw rises to the surface in that even in a position of authority he thinks only of himself. That's been apparent from the outset in the way he treats women. So now that he actually has a measure of power, he abuses it. Instead of using his talents to improve the lives of his subjects, ie. "the bush n____s" (prohibited word), he glorifies himself and collaborates with the sly white trader to further exploit the natives until they finally rebel.
I don't know how much of the screenplay was in the original Eugene O'Neill stage play. Nonetheless, this movie version can be viewed as a negative commentary on the capacity of black people to govern themselves, and in that sense, the movie serves to reinforce popular stereotypes whether or not that was intended. In short, Jones proves just as abusive in his misrule as any white colonialist, even replicating a European royal court in burlesque fashion. Note, however, that Jones never threatens the position of the white produce trader (Dudley Digges). In fact, Digges' connections are never clarified-- does he represent a foreign government, a commercial company, or what. I take this to be a revealing omission since a clarification would raise the whole subject of colonial control and its presence on the island as the real power behind the throne.
Notice too, the powerful depiction of the Baptist church at the film's beginning, even if it is caricatured in "Praise de Lawd" fashion. There's a real sense of communal solidarity in those scenes. Thus, it's not surprising that in real life the catalyst for social equality would come from a community-based effort such as the church instead of from talented individuals like Emperor Jones. In that sense, the movie can be taken as a parable on the pitfalls of black emancipation.
At times the movie itself is hard to watch because of the relentless staginess, especially in the final forrest scenes. Robeson over-acts, to say the least. Too bad, since he doesn't need to. The sheer power of his resounding voice and physical presence is enough to command the screen like few others. But perhaps the producers wanted an element of caricature to make his character less threatening to white audiences. However that may be, Robeson presents a stark contrast to the submissive roles typically assigned black actors of the day, an indication of how much talent there was on the other side of the color line. All in all, the movie may be dated and forgettable, but Robeson is not.
Thus, when he gets the opportunity to seize one-man rule over a poor black Caribbean island, he grabs it. Unfortunately, his central character flaw rises to the surface in that even in a position of authority he thinks only of himself. That's been apparent from the outset in the way he treats women. So now that he actually has a measure of power, he abuses it. Instead of using his talents to improve the lives of his subjects, ie. "the bush n____s" (prohibited word), he glorifies himself and collaborates with the sly white trader to further exploit the natives until they finally rebel.
I don't know how much of the screenplay was in the original Eugene O'Neill stage play. Nonetheless, this movie version can be viewed as a negative commentary on the capacity of black people to govern themselves, and in that sense, the movie serves to reinforce popular stereotypes whether or not that was intended. In short, Jones proves just as abusive in his misrule as any white colonialist, even replicating a European royal court in burlesque fashion. Note, however, that Jones never threatens the position of the white produce trader (Dudley Digges). In fact, Digges' connections are never clarified-- does he represent a foreign government, a commercial company, or what. I take this to be a revealing omission since a clarification would raise the whole subject of colonial control and its presence on the island as the real power behind the throne.
Notice too, the powerful depiction of the Baptist church at the film's beginning, even if it is caricatured in "Praise de Lawd" fashion. There's a real sense of communal solidarity in those scenes. Thus, it's not surprising that in real life the catalyst for social equality would come from a community-based effort such as the church instead of from talented individuals like Emperor Jones. In that sense, the movie can be taken as a parable on the pitfalls of black emancipation.
At times the movie itself is hard to watch because of the relentless staginess, especially in the final forrest scenes. Robeson over-acts, to say the least. Too bad, since he doesn't need to. The sheer power of his resounding voice and physical presence is enough to command the screen like few others. But perhaps the producers wanted an element of caricature to make his character less threatening to white audiences. However that may be, Robeson presents a stark contrast to the submissive roles typically assigned black actors of the day, an indication of how much talent there was on the other side of the color line. All in all, the movie may be dated and forgettable, but Robeson is not.