MOVIE OF THE DAY: "THE SONG OF FREEDOM" (1936)

There are certain movies of an earlier time that can surprise modern audiences. The 1930 musical King of Jazz for its dreamy two-strip Technicolor. The Bat, from the same year, for being shot in the 65mm widescreen ratio. And D.W. Griffith's 1916 epic Intolerance for its sheer bravado.

Then there's the UK production The Song of Freedom. Unlike the other movies I mentioned, what makes The Song of Freedom different has nothing to do with technical or artistic styles. In fact, there are times where it's lacking in both departments, particularly compared to American movies at the time. (Don't let the poster fool you -- it has a cast of dozens and the budget was likely half of what they claimed, at best.)

The story itself seems a little implausible, too. Johnny Zinga, a singing dockworker in London, catches the ear of an Italian concert promoter. In no time, Johnny is the toast of Europe. But when he learns that he's the rightful king of Casanga, an island off the African coast, Johnny and his wife move to his ancestor's homeland to improve the lives of his people -- who, to his dismay, are perfectly happy without his meddling.

And did I mention he plays piano, too?

Yet what makes The Song of Freedom fascinating to me would likely evoke a so-what response from my daughter's generation.  Johnny Zinga, as played by the legendary Paul Robeson, isn't accepted despite being black. His color isn't even part of the conversation. (Except when the concert promoter tries to track down the "colored" singer he heard from his car.) Zinga is accepted, period, the way anybody else would be by his friends and colleagues. He's a good worker, smart, fun to be around, and, oh yeah, a hell of a singer. 

How dare they!

Such a character would never have been allowed in US movies at the time. Even the little things -- a white colleague cheekily sneaking a sip from  Johnny's glass of ale, or Johnny and his wife Ruth sharing a kiss -- would have  caused white riots in the land of the free and the home of the brave.

 

 

"Here I am! Which way to the throne?"

But The Song of Freedom is even more interesting once Johnny moves to Casanga to take his rightful place on the throne. Almost nobody wants Johnny around, even when he promises to improve their impoverished lives with the knowledge he brings from the West. 

The Casangans are under the sway of Endobo, the witch doctor, who wants to continue running the show, even if it means his people getting sick from dirty water, and lack of food and medicine.

Endobo's not impressed by Johnny's khakis.

In other words, Johnny has left a white country where he lived a perfectly swell life, for a black country where he isn't accepted. In fact, by the end of the movie, they're ready to kill him and his wife. (He could have moved to Mississippi if he wanted that kind of treatment.) 

Only when he sings a tribal song in their native language is Johnny accepted as the real king. Sounds like the final episode of Casanga's Got Talent -- and he didn't even need Simon Cowell in his corner.

There are a few parallels in The Song of Freedom to US movies at the time. The concert promoter, Gabriel Donozetti, is played by a non-Italian with a goofy accent.  Robert Adams, as Johnny's assistant Monty, takes the role that would have been played by the way-funnier Mantan Moreland.  And modern audiences would likely wince at Arthur Williams' over-the-top portrayal of Endobo, even if he is weirdly fascinating at times.

Then there's Paul Robeson. I find it difficult to describe Robeson as an actor since his personality and physical size are almost literally larger than life. And that voice! Is there such a thing as basso super-duper profundo? If it were any lower, it would crash through the floor. Robeson gets to sing a half-dozen songs, all nearly hypnotic in their power.

I dunno, this concert life looks pretty good to me.

But throughout the African scenes, I kept wondering Why doesn't Johnny go back to England and keep making boffo money as a singer? The same way I thought, Why did the real Paul Robeson return to racist America when he had it so good in England? 

In both cases, it seems, he simply yearned to return to his homeland (even if in The Song of Freedom he was born in England) in order to help his people. The difference is, as Johnny Zinga, all he had to do to be accepted in Africa was sing. As the real life Paul Robeson in the United States, it took his death in 1976. 

The guy was later promoted to bang the
gong at the beginning of the J. Arthur Rank
movies.

Note to movie freaks: The Song of Freedom was the third production from the pre-horror Hammer Films. Its original  logo -- no surprise, a workman using a hammer -- would have made MGM's Leo the Lion roar with laughter. 

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