I know that his time had passed. People grow old, and old age could be viewed as a blessing or a curse. While I live a senior life full of regret, there’s one man who most assuredly did not, and that is the Canadian filmmaker Norman Jewison. He has departed, his kind never to be seen again.
In a lifetime, there are and always have been people who contribute extraordinary things, things that history can never diminish.
Last summer, I wrote about the 50th anniversary of Jesus Christ Superstar, a Universal (MCA) release of a film based on the stage play by Tim Rice and Andrew Lloyd Weber. The director was Norman Jewison, and at the time, I had no idea of the shock this gave to Hollywood. Here was the director of the hit In the Heat of the Night, still considered one of the best films ever made, and he’s out in the Israeli desert, shooting a rock musical about Jesus!
At that time, I believe few saw it coming. Those who had seen it on stage were divided. I think most saw location filming as a hopeless and wasteful endeavor, and if I recall correctly, very few knew of it at all. The media hardly made as much noise as Christian fundamentalist snoops who had to have a say about everything. And which condemned just about everything.
Jewison’s filming was unique to the Jesus dramatization genre. I knew the first time I saw it, that it was very special and that it would always be with me. What I didn’t know was anything about Norman Jewison, and especially what he had to do to actually make this incredible work of art happen. For example, getting permission to shoot on location. One government official reportedly said, “We’ve already had one Jesus, and that was enough.”
I’m not sure about that, but it was a long shot, getting permission to go there. He had to tell them that it wasn’t a film about Jesus. It was a film about actors playing characters in a film about Jesus.
He got his permission.
How a director ever did such a thing is a true feat. Yet that was only the beginning. In searing temperatures that were, at the very least, exhausting, and at the very most life-threatening, he would go on to produce a timeless masterpiece. Given the hippie culture so prominent at the time and having the actors show up in what was basically a “hippie bus” and wearing hippie clothing, it’s still not dated. It demonstrates counterculture and a disaffected view of the status quo and does it effectively. But all of Norman Jewison’s movies never date themselves because with him, it was getting the most out of the actors. With Superstar, he got from every cast and crew member a genuine romp. They loved making this movie. It was only made better by his use of modern actors playing historical figures in a movie.
This plays perfectly as Ted Neely walks past the grounded cross and looks at it while still in hippie garb. It’s the last time we see him in street clothes. As the music to this Overture scene plays out, building to then suddenly stop, changing to soft repeats, he is revealed being clothed in his robe. The “actor” seems changed by it, as if he suddenly feels the light of a supreme being shining on him. Perfectly following this, Judas, in a colorful tunic, has distanced himself from the followers of Jesus and, alone, he sings a warning that his cult with bring suffering to them all. By the time his warnings turn to mournful pleas, Jesus and his followers have moved further away and can not hear him.
There’s much symbolism here, much more than could be done on stage, and the cast and crew made the most of it. Roman soldiers carry spears, short swords, and submachine guns. They wear modern combat clothing and tank tops, chromed steel helmets, and seem blissfully uncaring about whether they will have to use them or not. They sneer at Jesus, only becoming vigilant during the “Simon Zealotes” scene when a few extra troops are apparently called to the area.
He made the most of the choreography, the dancers, the ancient ruins around them, and he was approachable. Carl Anderson was afraid that he had been cast as Judas because he was black. Jewison reassured him that he was cast because, in his opinion, nobody else could do what Anderson was about to do. On this, he was proven correct, and Anderson was and still is, half a century later, beloved posthumously for that role and his incredible voice.
Of the few protests outside of theatres, the ones doing the protesting were, of course, Christians. Among their gripes was the fact that the movie did not depict the resurrection. The somber music plays as the acting troupe boards the bus to leave, once again dressed in street clothes. Ted Neely does not board the bus. The final boarders are Yvonne Eliman, who played Mary Magdalene, and she looks up at a lone, empty cross on a hill as Carl Anderson comes up behind her. She seems to be eager to get out of his way. Anderson looks back, and his expression is one of sadness. Or guilt. Or maybe anger? It’s open to each viewer’s interpretation. This question, though, of why the Crucifixion, but no resurrection, was answered as if by God himself. The final shot, after the bus leaves, is of the sun setting behind the cross. It seems for a moment that it’s just the cross, the setting sun, and the barren hill.
When reviewing the segment while editing, out of nowhere came a Bedouin shepherd, guiding his flock. It’s difficult to see on some screens, but he’s definitely there. Someone said, “We have to shoot it again,” to which Norman Jewison said, “Leave it.”
The shepherd and his flock. A bit of unplanned symbolism that adds to the many unexplained accidents and unexplained phenomena that seem to happen in movies where Jesus is portrayed, even if done by actors portraying characters. In this, during the crucifixion scene, the sky grew dark. Lightning flashed, and shooting was suspended. Then, a region not known for rain endured three days of heavy rain. In Mel Gibson’s film The Passion of the Christ, several cast and crew were struck by lightning. Jim Caviezel was struck at least once and dislocated a shoulder while carrying the cross. Both Caviezel and Neely were hit by the flagellum variants during the flogging scenes. Caviezel got the worst of it as a correctly constructed Roman flagellum missed the protective slap board and dug deep into his skin. Because of these things, people in both films would convert to Christianity.
As always, with Passion movies, there were persistent issues about antisemitism. There was none here, but in the US, there was. There usually isn’t. And there usually is an author, screenwriter, producer, director, and a cast of actors who want nothing to do with antisemitic themes.
John 19:41 or the finale of the film:
In The Heat of the Night bears a special place in my heart as well. It was a landmark film for many different reasons. First, it starred a black actor well before “Blaxploitation” films arrived on the Hollywood scene. It was a very accurate depiction of the deep American south in the 1960s, and at times, it is difficult to watch.
However, it was worse to film it. Remember that the American South was and still is hostile toward African American people. Back then, it was supposed to take place in Mississippi. Sidney Poitier refused to go there because on a trip there earlier, he and Harry Bellefonte were almost murdered by Klansmen (and yes, the KKK is still around).
Filmed mostly in Sparta, Illinois, during the fall, where it’s quite cool, it fooled me completely. When I see this movie, even now I see the South. It’s got the old diners with fluorescent soda brand names, the typical homes, and some of the same architecture. I’m sure that some of the exterior shots were filmed in Tennessee, and not just at the cotton plantation. Gravel parking lots and even roads were not uncommon, not even in the north. By the early 1970s, asphalt and concrete were more common. It seems like 1970 made some significant marker between the old and the more modern. But the sets, no matter where they were, created magic. At the helm was Norman Jewison, and he knew exactly what he wanted. He went straight for the heart. His goal seemed to be to infuse more emotion, pure and absolutely genuine, over the mystery of a murder. That should have been easy, given the races of the actors, the real history involved, and the subject matter.
Poitier had to deliver a line “…because he didn’t want me to see a white woman nude!” and do it with the perfect tone. He did. How he and Jewison got along, I have no idea. But they combined with the cast to make a masterpiece of a movie.
I was in the south in the 60s. I was born there. It’s depicted perfectly by Jewison and the crew. The squeaky wooden gate in the sheriff’s office, the whip antenna on the patrol car, the trestle, the wardrobe, the cranky air conditioner in the window, period-accurate bulldozer, it’s all there.
The Academy Award for cinematography was won because Haskell Wexler lit each scene perfectly, the first to do so to picture a black actor’s features accurately. Rod Steiger, as the sheriff, won Best Lead actor, I can’t find anything about Poitier being awarded anything for In the Heat of the Night, but he should have been. Steiger and Poitier both had a connection to movies about Jesus. Steiger because he played Pontius Pilate in the 1977 TV miniseries Jesus of Nazareth and Poitier because he played Simon of Cyrene in The Greatest Story Ever Told, And Jewison, of course, because of Jesus Christ Superstar.
Cyrene would really have been more like “Kyrenia,” but let’s move on.
By the time the case is solved, Tibbs has been confronted by locals and even chased. Expertly played. This cast did everything Jewison wanted, and more. The film won the Academy Award for Best Picture at the 1968 Academy Awards. It beat some really notable movies, including Cool Hand Luke with Paul Newman, the Dirty Dozen with Lee Marvin, Charles Bronson, George Kennedy, Ernest Borgnine, Telly Savalas, Donald Sutherland, Jim Brown and more. It beat the Graduate, which I can’t bring myself to watch because I despise Dustin Hoffman. And let us not forget the now forgotten Rex Harrison marvelous musical Doctor Doolittle.
Warren Oates, a fierce equal rights advocate, had to play a somewhat racist character as a deputy. I say this because it was he who found Virgil Tibbs at the train station and arrested Tibbs on suspicion of murder. The deceased had an empty or missing wallet, and Tibbs, a Philadelphia homicide detective, had over a hundred dollars in his wallet. It would have looked really bad, back then, especially in a small town.
Jewison directed Steiger as Chief of police or Sheriff to chew gum, an idea the actor disliked at first, but in the film, it works to show impatience, even anger. He chewed over 200 packs during production.
I don’t regard any of these others as fit competition for In the Heat of the Night. Despite my love for the Dirty Dozen, this Norman Jewison picture is pure gold. It stands in a class of its own.
The 1979 release of …And Justice for All is one of my all-time favorites. It’s tragic, comical, far-fetched and sometimes too real. Arthur (Al Pacino) is a defense attorney in Baaltimore who has a serious problem: fear of heights, fear of commitment, and a seething hatred for the criminal justice system. If this were Jewison’s only film, I would still love him. He always dared to do something very different no matter the genre, and he had a strong understanding of the importance of matters of the heart, injustice, lunacy, betrayal, failure, pop culture, the things that appeal to audiences and not the establishment. He took risks without flinching. That’s an artist.
Filming in Baltimore would have been a challenge then. It would be suicidal now. The pavilion at the Inner Harbor wasn’t yet finished. The Key Bridge had only recently been built. The scene where a judge, played by veteran character actor Jack Warden, insists that his “friend” Arthur Kirkland ride with him in his vintage Bell helicopter. He flies underneath the Francis Scott Key Bridge, which I’ve seen done in real life. It’s no big deal, except that between the vertical clearance between it and the Chesapeake Bay Bridge has a mere one foot difference. For some reason, people are often so terrified of the latter that at each end, a driver can be hired to operate their vehicles during the crossing. And I’ve crossed the Key Bridge and seen a container ship leaving the port and going underneath on its way out to the Chesapeake and thence the Atlantic Ocean, and I saw the stack from the side and was sure that it wouldn’t clear. By the time I was on the center span, the stack gasses were thick on both sides as it was directly under me. It was cool, but I do have to admit, the chopper flying under it sure convinced me the judge was nuts.
Then, a judge, played by John Forsyth, is arrested for rape. He requests that Arthur defend him in court. Arthur’s stuck, but now he’s got more on his mind. Two clients whose mental conditions should keep them out of prison. Again, Jewison does what he does best. He turned Michael Corleone into a sympathetic, very emotional, and very ethical attorney who cares about the truth. And Justice. He comes into possession of photographs proving that his new client is guilty. Now he’s stuck: defend, as the law binds him to do, a real rapist in power, or refuse and lose his right to practice law? Which will he do? Well, I’m going to spoil the end. If you haven’t seen this one, don’t play the clip below. Instead, let us celebrate the life of an extraordinary man and look at his filmography, and add something to our own watch list.
To Norman’s family and friends, you have my sincerest sympathy. Remember, the ones we love never truly leave us. We take them with us everywhere we go.
Memoirs of an American Asshole 