When prejudice was the norm
New Ken Burns documentary has eerie reverberations
By Jerry Tallmer
George W. Bush, say hello to Seaborn Roddenberry.
Seaborn Roddenberry was a Georgia congressman who in 1912, while white America was still reeling over Jack Johnsons 1910 Reno, Nevada, knockout of great white hope Jim Jeffries, proposed a constitutional amendment banning interracial marriages in these United States.
Do we have to spell out the parallel? Surely not.
What had provoked Mr. Roddenberry was, of course, Jack Johnsons association with, and preference for, good-looking white women, prostitutes or otherwise, several of whom the fur-coat-wearing, racing-car-driving, Napoleon-worshipping, unabashable gold-toothed prizefighter (musician, vaudevillian, voracious reader of anything in print) did indeed marry.
Roddenberrys amendment is but one of scores of oddments, ephemera, peripherals that suddenly pop up throughout the 214 fascinating minutes of the new Ken Burns documentary Unforgivable Blackness: The Rise and Fall of Jack Johnson.
Another is a glimpse of Jack Johnson toying in the ring with a bum-of-the-month named Victor McLaglen. Yes, that Victor McLaglen, who 25 years later would attain cine-immortality in the title role of John Fords The Informer.
And another: In the rioting-cum-lynching all over the U.S. that followed that 1910 Johnson-Jeffries fight during which combat, ringsiders had implored the referee: Dont let the nigger knock him out! a 10-year-old boy had to run for his life on Canal Street in New Orleans. His name was Louis Armstrong.
I love these little intersections of history, says the Ken Burns whose movieola gifts have unwrapped for us, over the years, the Brooklyn Bridge, the Statue of Liberty, the Congress, the Civil War, Radio, Baseball, the Suffragettes, the West, Jazz, etc., plus particular lives of such as Thomas Hart Benton, Charles Lindbergh. Thomas Jefferson, Frank Lloyd Wright, Mark Twain, and, now, John Arthur Jack Johnson.
If you make a film about what you already know, says Burns, youre on an expressway from point A to point B. But with a film like this, youre off on a bunch of side roads.
Friday and Saturday evenings, November 12 and 13, Burns will introduce clips from Unforgivable Blackness during the Jack Johnson Festival at Jazz in Lincoln Centers new Rose Theater on Columbus Circle. The Wynton Marsalis Septet will play portions of Marsaliss Unforgivable Blackness score.
On Monday, January 17, and Tuesday, January 18, the two-part documentary which premiered at the recent New York Film Fstival airs in full over PBS.
Burns had at one time or another seen The Great White Hope, the 1970 movie (from the Howard Sackler play) starring James Earl Jones as Jack Johnson, and when David Schaye, a co-producer on the Baseball series, brought Burns a 25-page abstract toward a documentary about the first black heavyweight champion of the world, I just lit up, says Burns it pushed every button in me.
Though Roddenberrys amendment went nowhere, they, the bluenoses and racists, got Jack Johnson in the end for violation of the Mann Act, transporting a woman over a state line for purposes of debauchery. (My crime, Johnson said, was beating Jim Jeffries.) He fled to Montreal, then to England, then to Mexico, but after seven years of exile and his 1915 loss to Jess Willard in Havana, Cuba he returned home, was clapped in handcuffs, and packed off to a year in Leavenworth.
Jess Willard, the Potawotamie Giant, a six-foot-six Kansas ranch hand who, in fact, hated fighting though hed once killed a man, was great white hope incarnate. If they make white hopes any bigger, Ill have to get stilts, wisecracked Johnson.
He was 37, Willard was 27. The fight, in 105-degree heat, went 25 (of a projected 45) rounds, in a ring surrounded by guards carrying rifles and machetes. It ended with Johnson on his back, under the Havana sun, one arm over his eyes. Will you please see my wife gets out of here, he said to his handlers. White America erupted in joy. Later there were all sorts of suppositions that Johnson, seeking a reprieve, had thrown the fight. If Johnson throwed it, said Willard, I wish hed throwed it sooner.
It was all downhill from there until Johnsons death in 1946, when the second black heavyweight champion of the world was Joseph Louis Barrow of Detroit, a quiet man who couldnt have been more different in every respect.
What was truly bad for Johnson was when, as the film puts it, the trouble came from both sides of the line, with the good, church-going black middle class turning against him. They were terrified just like white folk, says James Earl Jones. They, too, had daughters to worry about. Morality reigned.
Janet Jackson, anyone?
(Aaron Brown on CNN has hazarded the thought that her Super Bowl Moment was the final straw that swung the values-worshipping election camel to do what it did.)
Unforgivable Blackness takes its title from intransigent philosopher/separatist W.E.B. Dubois in his disagreement with, yet defense of, Johnsons society-defying taste for white women ( . . . so it all comes down to unforgivable blackness).
Parallels, parallels. Journalist Jack Newfield, one of a dozen meritorious talking heads in the documentary, tells how, in 1968, when Cassius Clay had been convicted of draft evasion (them Vietcongs never did nothing to me) and couldnt get a passport, Newfield took him to see The Great White Hope on Broadway.
Backstage after the show to meet James Earl Jones, the soon-to-be Muhammad Ali said to the actor: If you take out the women and the religion, thats my story. James Earl has already told Ken Burns and the camera: I dont see [Jack Johnsons] life as a tragedy. America was a tragedy.
(The film doesnt say so, but to me no boxing expert, not even a fan any more Alis famous float-like-a-butterfly, wear-em-out, no-hands, rope-a-dope technique directly descends from the even more graceful Johnson. He punch from here up is how a latter-day champion, Jose Torres, pointing to his own head, summarizes the Johnson style.)
Class is a word much used in boxing, and there is class all over this documentary, from James Earl Jones just being himself to Samuel L. Jackson as the voice of Jack Johnson to Keith David as narrator to grizzled Bert Sugar filling in a few of the historical fine points to columnist Stanley Crouch calling Johnsons 1910 victory over Jeffries the upset that changed everything boxings version of the Battle of Gettysburg.
The opposite of class is what that Gettysburg ignited, or released, in the city rooms and editorial chambers of some of this nations most august, most respectable newspapers, among them the New York Times. A Word to the Black Man was the nakedly menacing headline (delivered in the chilling voice of Billy Bob Thornton) over one warning anent Johnsons venture into miscegenation.
Behave or else, know what we mean?
For Jack Johnson, as for Miles Davis, who saw something of Johnson in himself and created a suite of music to prove it, there was, this film tells us, no better way to act than as if prejudice did not exist. But it did. And, in more than one way, still does.
We are founded, said Ken Burns to this moviegoer the other day, on the monumental hypocrisy that all men are created equal. I dont think you can scratch American history without bumping into racism. This film is all about a man saying: Im gonna live my life as the Constitution says I can.
The Constitution unamended.