When I first heard that Morgan Freeman was going to play Nelson
Mandela in a film directed by Clint Eastwood (Invictus), I was
not surprised. Indeed, it’s the rule rather than the exception that a
black-American actor of his stature should tackle the role of a black
South African. In the way British actors must play a Southerner
(Kenneth Branagh in The Gingerbread Man, Cate Blanchett in
The Gift—yes, Blanchett is Australian, but let’s
overlook that), black-American actors must, to cap their careers, play
a black South African. This has been the tradition for over half a
century.

But why is this the case? Why have so many black-American actors
played black South Africans, instead of, say, playing black Zimbabweans
or black Kenyans? The answer is simple. The history of South Africa,
and its institutionalized racial oppression (apartheid), speaks
directly to the black experience in this country. The humiliation, the
suffering, and the unrelenting force of white–South African
exploitation fit perfectly with the humiliation, the suffering, and the
unrelenting force of white exploitation in America. For a black
American to play a black South African, all that’s needed is a change
of accent; the rest—the sorrow, the anger, the hurt, the
hope—comes naturally.

It all begins with Cry, the Beloved Country (1952), a movie
based on a novel of the same name. In this movie, two great
black-
American actors meet, Canada Lee and Sidney Poitier. For the
former, it is the end of a short but brilliant career; for the latter,
it is the start of a long and brilliant career. Poitier brings to his
character, a handsome reverend, the kind of hope that can be found in
an actor who has the future ahead of him; in Lee, who convincingly
(maybe too convincingly) plays a destitute black South African, we see
the kind of despair that’s expected from a black-American actor who has
been persecuted by the Hollywood machine. There is one scene that shows
Lee walking down a dusty road, his look, his body, his cracked
lips—it’s just too sad to believe. (Agreed, Poitier spent his
childhood in the Bahamas, but let’s overlook that. His career was not
established there, and the roles that made him famous were
black-American roles.)

In Cry Freedom (1987), Denzel Washington, one of the most
famous black-American actors of the ’80s and ’90s, plays Steve Biko, a
black–South African activist who was killed while in police
custody. To be honest, the film is really about a liberal newspaper
editor, played by Kevin Kline, who attempts to expose the truth about
Biko’s death. Nevertheless, Washington brings emotional weight and
intelligence to his character. I must also admit that when I watched
this movie in 1987, it totally ruined my date. The young woman who
accompanied me was moved to tears by the murder of Biko. She cried in
the theater, she cried in the lobby, and she cried in the car.
I
could not make out with her.

The musical Sarafina! (1992) was Whoopi Goldberg’s vehicle
for a black–South African role. In the movie, she plays an
inspirational teacher, Mary Masembuko, who has bright and colorful
students. The movie is not very good, but it does have an actual black
South African playing a black South African (none other than Miriam
Makeba—she died last year on an Italian stage, right after
performing her most popular song, “Pata Pata”).

Danny Glover has the distinction of playing a black South African
not once but twice. (To be honest, he plays a colored—or
mixed-race—South African in Boesman & Lena [2000],
but for the sake of convenience, let’s overlook that.) In
Bopha! (1993), not only does Glover play a South African, but
Alfre Woodard does as well—Glover is a black cop and Woodard is
his wife. The film, sadly, is not very good. Nor, for that matter, is
Boesman & Lena, which also has another famous black
American playing a black South African: the eternally beautiful Angela
Bassett (yes, yes, she actually plays a colored South African and not a
black South African, but, again, for the sake of convenience, let’s
overlook that).

Then there is Dangerous Ground (1997), which contains the
strangest of all performances in the tradition of black Americans
playing black South Africans: Ice Cube as Vusi Madlazi. There is,
however, an important twist: Madlazi grew up in L.A., and the movie is
about his return to post-apartheid South Africa. This curious feature
of the story freed Cube from learning what all the other black
Americans have to learn: an African accent—instead, he speaks and
acts like someone who, like him, is from the rough streets of L.A.
Another strange thing about this film is Elizabeth Hurley, who plays a
white–South African prostitute. She and Cube join forces and save
the day in post-apartheid South Africa.

But, in general, the reason so many black Americans play black South
Africans is because it’s another way of telling their story, their
American story. Freeman (in Invictus) is not the first famous
black American to play Mandela. That honor goes to Poitier, who played
the first black president of South Africa in the 1997 TV series
Mandela and de Klerk. Freeman, however, has the distinction of
not only doing a great Mandela but also a great South African accent.
The movie is set in 1995, during the days leading up to the Rugby World
Cup in Cape Town. Mandela uses the sport, which once separated his
country, to unite it. Freeman absolutely loves being in his character.
It’s easy to imagine him playing Mandela for the rest of his life. But
what is the movie really about? Not South Africa or Mandela, but
America and Obama. Eastwood, the director, is speaking to his fellow
Americans. His message? The situation in South Africa in the mid-’90s
is somewhat like the situation here at the end of the ’00s. Big changes
are happening, but we must still love our country and
our
president. recommended

Charles Mudede—who writes about film, books, music, and his life in Rhodesia, Zimbabwe, the USA, and the UK for The Stranger—was born near a steel plant in Kwe Kwe, Zimbabwe. He has no memory...

21 replies on “The Old Black Is the New Black”

  1. Is it too much to ask for you to actually review the movie in your “movie review”?

    I’ve got a sneaking suspicion that you either didn’t actually see it, or you zoned out after becoming mesmerized by how wonderful your own farts smell.

  3. @1 – I think its clear that this is an essay rather than a simple review. I appreciate deeper pieces of writing like this from critics. Keep up the good work, Charles.

  5. Good Morning Charles,
    I read your review last night and I have to admit I was disappointed. It was a hardly a review. Rather, it was an essay. I just didn’t like it and I find myself disinclined to view the film even though I enjoy both Eastwood and Freeman.

    Clearly, America and South Africa share a common haunting history regarding the maltreatment of the African-American and African in each country respectively. I just didn’t think it needed to be spelled out in your review. It comes as no surprise that Americans and a few others were cast in South African roles (African-Americans have been participating/acting in films for better or for worse since the 1910s) largely because of the oppressive policy of apartheid for many decades that only recently ceased had prevented many black SAs from participating.

    A couple of other things I found unnecessary or flat out wrong in your review. It’s obvious that you’re an Obama booster. But, no one is required to love our President. Respect yes, but not love. Also the end of the aughts (00s) is not “somewhat like the situation” in the mid-90s. The election of Obama is not the same as the election of Mandela. I believe Mr. Mandela’s election in addition to the rejection of apartheid finally formally enfranchised a vast majority of a country’s population. Our country has had minorities voting since the Civil Rights Act in 1964 and technically since Reconstruction (I agree that AAs voting was greatly curtailed because of Jim Crow). However, we beat SA by several decades by electing mayors, governors, members of Congress and senators of African-American ancestry. African-Americans have been participating in the political process for a very long time. Finally, Mr. Eastwood is a Republican and supported Sen. McCain in the general election of 2008. Like me he respects our President and probably didn’t vote for him. I didn’t vote for Mr. Obama but he is my President. He deserves our respect.

    BTW, I agree with Pres. Obama that he (Obama) didn’t deserve the Nobel Peace Prize. Nice that he acknowledged that and accepted the prize with aplomb.

  6. Or, it could just be that the American production company wants the movie to make money and realizes that they up the chances by hiring a recognizable star.

  8. Don Cheadle. Forest Whitaker. Both played African characters not from South Africa. Another little fact to overlook? Eddie Murphy and James Earl Jones played Africans from a fictional African nation. For the most part, when films are made with black characters, black people play them. – Unless we want to talk about Othello.

    Generally, when Americans make movies, they cast Americans (except for the amazing numbers of Britains and Australians playing Americans – go figure. TV is overrun with them.)

    And given how few roles there are for African-Americans to play French, German, and English characters – surprisingly, it’s stories from Africa that affords them the opportunities to play foreign characters. (Well, there are films that take place on the Carribean islands – most often Jamaica – that African-Americans get to play as well.)

    In the 50s and 60s, it’s amazing how many Englishmen played Nazis. For that matter how many white Americans played Asians and Indians. I mean, Marlon Brando as Japanese!?!?!

    My point is, Charles, I don’t get your point.

  10. 1 and 9 got it right. This isn’t a movie review, but a platform for a half-baked film theory. What is that theory? That black Americans play black South Africans, except when they don’t, which we’re supposed to ignore.

    That’s not a theory, but then, it’s not a review either. If I could write a similar review without viewing the movie, does it constitute a review?

    Not surprisingly, Mudede has to mention himself here. His role as public intellectual of the Stranger is compromised by his self-love. Can’t he just write a blog so we can all ignore him?

  11. @10 – Exactly. It was interesting to read the New York Times review of this movie and realize just how little I knew about it after reading Mudede’s review.

    That isn’t the frustrating part, though. I’m all for essays, critiques, theories, etc. When every other example given is followed by a sheepish admission that the example isn’t very good, though…

    It’s like if Colin Powell, in front of the UN, had finished each paragraph with “actually, that was pretty exaggerated, but bear with me.”

  15. Christ, lay off! He was just writing his thoughts, and last time I checked that wasn’t a crime. His point isn’t that black Americans play Africans, we all know that. His point is that this is normally at the pinnacle of their career, and that was why he wasn’t surprised that a great actor like Morgan Freeman is playing that part.

    And where does it say movie review? I don’t see that. Just let the man write without jumping on his back.

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