Sidney Poitier: Man, Actor, Icon

8 Decisions (1957–1959)

c h a p t e r 8 DECISIONS (1957–1959) v Late 1957 was Poitier’s calm before the storm: soft breezes, sandy beaches, and magnificent views. He had signed a generous contract to appear in Virgin Island, a picture produced by the British company Countryman Films. He lived in a small hotel on Guana Island, an eleven-acre stretch of paradise near St. Thomas. The cast included friends John Cassavetes , Ruby Dee, and Julian Mayfield. He had a fun, light role as a zesty West Indian. Pressures were few, telephones nonexistent. And each morning , as a motorboat ferried the cast to location, the amply endowed British actress Virginia Maskell removed her top and soaked in the warm Caribbean sun.∞ The film itself is part travelogue, part fiction from a lowbrow women’s magazine. Lush scenery and good humor compensate for the simplistic plot. Poitier plays Marcus, a jovial fisherman who helps newlyweds Evan (Cassavetes) and Tina (Maskell) build a house on a secluded island. The trio endure legal interference from the island commissioner (Colin Gordon ) and a visit from Tina’s crusty mother (Isabel Dean). Tina gets pregnant and her baby almost arrives prematurely; they sail that night for the hospital. Alas, there is no wind, so Evan swims for help. Marcus fixes his outboard motor and rescues them. At the end, Marcus agrees to marry his girlfriend, Ruth (Dee), and share the island with the white couple.≤ ‘‘A standout performance is given by Sidney Poitier as a gentle, comic islander,’’ wrote Variety. The role let him reclaim the singsong speech rhythms and carefree spirit of his youth. He also followed the pattern of his earlier films: Marcus shares the robust good nature of Tommy Tyler in Edge of the City and the exotic appeal of his African characters, and he befriends well-intentioned whites, whose interests he serves out of innate warmth.≥ Poitier cherished his time in St. Thomas. He told columnist Whitney Bolton that he wished to build a house there. He explained that, in con- 146 black man’s burden trast to other black colonies (and, one might add, to the sunny picture of white colonialism of Virgin Island), ‘‘it is native to the core.’’ He preached nonviolent, liberal resolutions to global racial problems: ‘‘Sooner or later the African continent will come into the sun of freedom, and unless the West and the whites give it room and a chance, it can be a violent time.’’ St. Thomas was a peaceful alternative; Poitier appreciated the island’s black governor and population. ‘‘I have a feeling there such as no other place gives me. I am with my own and we work in a common, selfrespecting destiny.’’∂ As a career vehicle, Virgin Island was of less consequence. Despite predictions of nationwide exhibition, it crawled into American theaters in March 1960 as the second feature behind Sink the Bismarck! Yet Poitier’s Caribbean stint proved important. On location in November, he heard from agent Martin Baum that Samuel Goldwyn had offered him the lead in the Gershwin folk opera Porgy and Bess. He would receive first billing and a $75,000 paycheck, two personal milestones. But he rejected the part. Porgy and Bess presented blacks as dice-rolling, gin-swilling, razortoting stereotypes. Poitier played characters of dignity, not emasculated beggars.∑ A week later, however, Poitier picked up a three-day-old New York Times and read that Goldwyn had announced his participation in Porgy and Bess. Against his wishes, and against the black political tide, Poitier was roped into a controversy that revealed his limited control over his own image. It was a time of difficult decisions, and a firsthand lesson in Hollywood power. He flew to New York. The calm ended, and the storm began.∏ v Back in March 1947, Samuel Goldwyn had been on top of the world. At the podium of the Shrine Auditorium, surrounded by the Hollywood establishment in elegant evening wear, the producer was holding his second Academy Award of the ceremony. The first time, he accepted the Oscar for his picture of returning war veterans called The Best Years of Our Lives. Now, as he grasped the Irving Thalberg Award for ‘‘the most consistently high quality of production’’ that year, he choked back tears. By night’s end, The Best Years of Our Lives would win seven Oscars. Goldwyn counted his Thalberg Award and an honorary Oscar for Harold Russell in his tally, so that his picture bested...