This commentary on the life and legacy of Sidney Poitier was first published in the BAFTA Awards Book 2006, as part of the organization’s lifetime achievement award tribute to the trailblazing star, who died Jan. 6 at the age of 94.
Sidney Poitier is the most important American actor?
It is easy to defend the question affirmatively by simply showing a newsreel with clips showing heroes such as Martin Luther King Jr. in action, from Birmingham, to the March on Washington and Medgar Evers, Malcolm X and Jackie Robinson; Olympians Tommy Smith or John Carlos with their fists during the 1968 Mexico City air; Bull Connor and Lester Maddox, rabid segregationists; the sit-ins with accompanying firehoses & attacking police dogs; the segregated spaces, their high-profile Ku Klux Klan march and their low-profile lyn lyn lyn lyn marches
To any American film fan who lived through the Civil Rights revolution of the 1950s and ’60s, the importance of Sidney Poitier’s career can’t be overstated. Poitier’s the guy who proved the stupidity of racism in movie after movie — from the early 1950s film “No Way Out” to his role in a string of popular 1970s comedies — in theaters and drive-ins across America.
Yes, Brando and Dean Clift were the ones who redefined the craft. Chaplin expanded the artistic boundaries and the Duke personified John Ford’s mythical West, but Sidney Poitier redefined America and personified the truth about Black America’s quest for equality.
His gravitas and grandeur, his humanity and his humility, his ceaseless striving for dignity all had an enormous impact on America, changing American society and its film industry forever — and for better.
His greatest influence was felt when he took to the stage at 1964’s Academy Awards ceremony. Recognized for his work in Ralph Nelson’s “Lillies of the Field,”He was the first Black actor to receive an Academy Award.
If we were still looking at that newsreel from those times, you’d see President Lyndon Johnson signing the Civil Rights Act of 1964 a few months after the Oscars, and then we’d see the exhumed bodies of murdered civil rights activists Michael Schwerner, Andrew Goodman and James Chaney a few weeks later.
They were like-that back in the day.
Poitier’s personality impacted on American culture again when Poitier, Not This time, he smiled and gritted his teeth, playing the role of Detective Virgil Tibbs. He was facing off against Rod Steiger, a Bull Connor-ish Southern cop. He spoke the holy rage for an entire race, a line. “They call me Mister Tibbs.”
You can now see the timeline. This picture was nominated for the Oscar-winning Best Picture. “In the Heat of the Night,” which grabbed its five statuettes in April 1968, only days after King’s assassination.
Today, Cut to Poitier is still fully engaged in making the world better. He’s stepped out of the film frame and has both feet in the real world.
The honors continue to come Poitier’s way, from knighthood to an honorary Oscar. Poitier’s civic duties are not over, including ambassadorships to the Bahamas and UNESCO.
It is remarkable that, given the pressures Poitier faces to be “the Jackie Robinson of the movie business,” he didn’t fold under that impossible mantle. He didn’t turn bilious and strident as did many of his contemporaries, who, given the brutal circumstances of those times, can be forgiven for not matching Poitier’s inner strength. Poitier grew up bitter and became wise and generous where so many others grew. He was a seasoned producer and film director who provided opportunities for new generations of Black filmmakers and actors to show their business skills and creativity.
Poitier was warmly chuckled when I asked him if it was a sign that progress has been made that Jamie Foxx, a Black actor won the Oscar for best actor after Denzel Washington had taken nearly 40 years. Poitier laughed warmly and replied, “Well, I guess that proves there’s no two ways about it.”
Could any of this have happened without Poitier’s brilliant and groundbreaking career? No guessing here: There’s no two ways about that either.