ugene O'Neill's play, The Emperor Jones, is one of those works that is very easy to misconstrue as simply racist or simple-minded Freudianism. It's neither, but the 1933 film adaptation of said play, starring Paul Robeson in the role of Brutus Jones, suffers from many of the same misconceptions, as well as a few of its own, due to the breaks the film makes from its source material- both pro and con. And these breaks owe all of their power to the screenplay by DuBose Heyward, and the interpretation of it by film director Dudley Murphy, one of the earliest 'lost' avant-garde filmmakers, who films it all in a very quick, modern style, as opposed to the then dominant style of extended master shots.
The film's narrative does not already start on the unnamed tropical Caribbean Island that the play does; rather the film takes a chronological approach, and fleshes out more of Jones' background. In this, though, the 76 minute film suffers, for the play is a direct examination of a man's mind (however stereotyped one may argue it was rendered). The film neuters this innovative approach, but to Heyward's and Murphy's credit, the film compensates by expanding the tale of Jones with incidents not in the play. Plus, Murphy allows Robeson to physically change the tenor of scenes with a smile or a wink, or a knowing bow. To those who claim that Robeson was not a great actor, this is true only insofar as his acting style was not naturally cinematic- he was clearly theater and stage trained, but he does make a rather dated play still come alive, as a film, in the 21st Century. And, of course, the film has a number of musical interludes that the play lacks because, well, when one has Robeson, one of the 3 or 4 greatest male voices ever recorded, you show off the wares.
The film's narrative does not already start on the unnamed tropical Caribbean Island that the play does; rather the film takes a chronological approach, and fleshes out more of Jones' background. In this, though, the 76 minute film suffers, for the play is a direct examination of a man's mind (however stereotyped one may argue it was rendered). The film neuters this innovative approach, but to Heyward's and Murphy's credit, the film compensates by expanding the tale of Jones with incidents not in the play. Plus, Murphy allows Robeson to physically change the tenor of scenes with a smile or a wink, or a knowing bow. To those who claim that Robeson was not a great actor, this is true only insofar as his acting style was not naturally cinematic- he was clearly theater and stage trained, but he does make a rather dated play still come alive, as a film, in the 21st Century. And, of course, the film has a number of musical interludes that the play lacks because, well, when one has Robeson, one of the 3 or 4 greatest male voices ever recorded, you show off the wares.