Hollywood Shuffle: Exploring the Trials, Tribulations and Triumphs of Louis Gossett, Jr by Sheldon Taylor
"We know this is a struggle. Take the low pay now. Next time we’ll get them. Next time never came. Finally, there did come a time when I took a stand saying no to a part unless the studio paid me properly. It took the studio all of five minutes to say “Next” and hand the part to someone else. That scene broke it for me sending me headlong into self-loathing…"
These aren't words from Taraji P. Henson’s tearful testimony of Hollywood career struggles. These are reflections torn from the pages of the late Louis Gossett Jr’s 2010 memoir An Actor and A Gentleman.
The book's title is a nod to 1982 film An Officer and A Gentleman featuring Gossett's riveting performance as swaggering Marine drill instructor Emil Foley earning the Brooklyn-born actor an Oscar for Best Supporting Actor.
Gossett was the first Black actor to win in the category and the American-born Black actor to ever win an Academy Award (Sidney Poitier was born in the Bahamas). His Oscar win came on the heels of Golden Globe and People's Choice awards for his role as Fiddler---friend and mentor of slave Kunta Kinte in the 1977 TV miniseries Roots.
Enjoying a career across stage, TV and film that spanned 14 presidential administrations, seven decades to be exact---Gossett's creative road was littered with occupational hazards tormenting his soul and psyche.
Neither Gossett's acting pedigree or his cache of People's Choice, Golden Globe or Academy Awards was enough to convince Hollywood gatekeepers of his bankable leading man status on the silver screen:
"For me personally, my success with the Oscar had changed nothing. My roles were all supporting ones where I played the security man ("The Principal") and where I was again ("Iron Eagle") the father figure."
Tall, lean and handsome, Gossett would lament that during the majority of his career he lacked a female love interest in films (Gossett's trailblazing 1979 TV medical drama The Lazarus Syndrome provided a momentary exception).
Unpaid promotional appearances and episodic TV work kept Gossett in the public light. Paychecks were paltry ("As always I was stacking up the awards and nominations but not the dollar bills"). Decades before Henson lamented on her compensation woes and “not revealing a raise” above her six figure-salary “since 2017" Gossett experienced his own "vicious cycle” that he was trapped in as a lowly paid Oscar winner:
After all the message from my managers was the same as always: “you gotta work.” I would get a movie that would pay me $300,000 and once they took out 10 percent for the manager, 10 percent for the agent, a larger amount for the accountant, for taxes and for my alimony payments, I have to go back to work within ten to twenty days to pay those bills.”
Like middle-aged sanitation worker Troy Maxon-portrayed by Denzel Washington in 2016's Fences---the fiery ex-Negro Leaguer's career ended at the dawn of integrated baseball. Gossett's own circuitous career peaked years before arrival of Denzel Washington, Will Smith, Samuel L. Jackson and Chadwick Boseman.
The fictional Maxon's missed opportunities triggered an explosive anger and bitterness he wore like a heart on his sleeve. In real life, Gossett struggled to keep his in check. The opening chapter of his memoir ("The Bubble Burst") would trace the tracks of his trauma.
A thirty-two-year-old Gossett resurfaces in Hollywood in 1968 seven years after his appearance in Raisin In The Sun. Cast as an authoritative police chief, Gossett is the first Black actor to be featured in a prime- time TV movie of the week.
For Raisin, Gossett's booked at a roach-infested motel in South LA. Now holed up in Beverly Hills Hotel (a first for Black man), he's provided a convertible all on the studio’s dime: Following a series of subservient and supporting roles, Gossett feels like he's turned corner: He’s arrived.
Enjoying the LA vibe with the top down and the radio blasting, what happens next is that "a twenty-minute trip from a rental car agency turns into a horrific four-hour ordeal." Gossett endures multiple traffic stops enroute to his hotel for DWB:
“I realized this was happening because I was black and showing off in a fancy car which in their view. I had no business driving I quickly understood that I could not to do anything else to draw attention to myself. I had to put up with it”.
During an after-dinner stroll Gossett is ambushed by police and chained to a tree on a main street. Car passengers pelt him with bottles and cans. Jeering cops pass by squad cars with blazing sirens and honking horns The ordeal continues for three hours.
Losing control his body functions, Gossett urinates on himself. The indignity saves him from further torment ("you smell too bad to be put into a car. Get out of here and don't make the same mistake twice").
Retreating back to his hotel and unable to sleep, Gossett internalizes activity around him ("noises in the corridor, shadows on the walls, knocks on doors") as a sign of his pending doom ("the police were coming to find me to finish the job they started").
Decades later, Gossett recalls "struggling to swallow the anger in my real life." Attempts at finding solace ("I will not be a bitter man. I will be a better man") fail. At times he takes the high road "obeying" Hollywood's systemic guidelines. Other times he rebels ("often I found myself saying "f---- it").
Worn down by harassment, indignities (horses feces was found in his dressing room) and acts of sabotage on movie sets, Gossett sought the "momentary comfort of drugs" leading to an "impending addiction." Years before Julia Roberts' open admiration for co-star and "beloved friend" Denzel Washington ("he's the best actor of this generation hands down"), admiring white actresses ("I'm so excited to meet you!") where "whisked away" from Gossett's presence at red carpet events.
"I resented the reality of this place (Hollywood), especially the message I felt was stronger than ever: behave yourself, black man. Stay away from these white women. Don't get too big for your britches."
Fiscally unable to take a break from low-paying jobs to seek costly drug treatment---Gossett keeps up his grinding pace fending off industry "scuttlebutt" about his drug habit that eventually places him on the Hollywood blacklist.
He would describe his lifestyle as one "similar to Dr. Jeckyll and Hyde." Seeking peer camaraderie, Gossett admitted getting caught up in excess with the Hollywood crowd during a 2020 CBS interview. While others walked away unscathed and careers intact, he suffered a different fate:
"I'd get all the good reviews, which I did. And then the field was set and fertilized with the people that I thought were having the best fun, Black and White. They were laughing alot, had all the girls, Studio 54, all the Playboy mansions and stuff. They invited me in. I thought that was it. Turned out that that was not it. I got caught with all that stuff. And with each time I did it, I got worse."
Working in a less forgiving entertainment industry, he wouldn't experience redemptive grace enjoyed by actor Robert Downey, Jr who'd rebound from much publicized legal run-ins and addiction woes to earn peer support, larger paydays (Iron Man) and ultimately--- Academy Awards (Oppenheimer):
"I am responsible in my career for maybe three hours of not showing up because of my drug use, while others with much bigger problems than mine have shut down productions for days, weeks and even months."
Gossett's plight mirrored the fate of many Black actors whose profiles diminished after the blaxploitation film boom that pulled the industry back from the brink of financial ended in the mid-70s. Flush with cash, the movie business transitioned to science fiction fare (Close Encounters of The Third Kind, Star Wars, Alien), thrillers (Jaws) and dramatic pieces. Working Black actors of Gossett's pedigree vanished or reduced to limited supporting parts.
Nick Nolte's ruggedness, Burt Reynolds' folksy charm and sex appeal, Clint Eastwood and Charles Bronson's steely-eyed stoicism, Sylvester Stallone, Arnold Schwarzenegger and Bruce Willis' two-fisted virility were in.
After Billy Dee Williams' appearance 1979's The Empire Strikes Back, he never regained his promising early/mid 70s romantic leading man status and descended into a sea of supporting roles and bit movie parts.
Late-80s TV series A Man Called Hawk featuring theater actor Avery Brooks, as the bald, bold, leather-clad heroic title character---a send up to Roundtree's Shaft---temporarily broke the mold but was canceled after one season.
Long saddled with terms like "liberal" and "woke" Hollywood still clung to its old ways: Black actors scored big paydays playing roles hinting racial stereotypes. Filling a void of Black presence on TV and film and needing to work, their theatric gifts to transform these roles into beloved and iconic characters.
Double threat singer/dynamic stage performer (Ain't Misbehavin) Nell Carter earned a lucrative $50,000 an episode in Gimme a Break. Here lead role as a housekeeper were subtle sendups of Hattie McDaniel and Butterfly McQueen's performances in Gone with The Wind.
Previously a dramatic actor---Sherman Hemsley's theatrical skills (Purlie Victorious) breathed life into his comedic lead on The Jeffersons. Despite earning millions, he chafed at the role ("playing George Jefferson was hard for me. But he was the character. I had to do it.").
Dramatic actor Danny Glover's provided comic relief as bumbling Detective Roger Murtaugh was the polar opposite of virile uber-male Mel Gibson's Detective Martin Riggs in the successful buddy cop Lethal Weapon franchise.
Actor Tim Reid played characters on episodic TV with colorful names like "Venus Flytrap" and "Downtown Brown."
Stringing together masterful dramatic leading roles (Sounder, Roots, The Autobiography of Jane Pittman, The Marva Collins Story, A Woman Called Moses, King) foreshadowing Angela Bassett, Regina King and Viola Davis, Cecily Tyson was film and TV most prominent Black actress.
Like Gossett---her paycheck never matched her profile. Never ascending to spaces of contemporaries Meryl Streep, Jessica Lange and Sissy Spacek, Tyson would still be cast as cooks and maids in Hollywood period films (Fried Green Tomatoes, The Help, Oldest Living Confederate Tells All).
In her memoir Just As I Am---released days before her passing at 96, Tyson revealed turning down the role of a maid with five children with a different father ("a stereotypical two for one") in what would be the 1974 film "Claudine" When the white female director of the film justified the character ("women like these exist. In fact, my own maid...."), Tyson shut her down.
Gossett attempted to leverage his star power to greenlight ideas with positive Black content: he was rebuffed. A chance encounter with a coked-up top film producer in a men's room confirmed Gossett's career confinement:
“I know why you are not making it much further. It’s simple. You are a big black man and you’re quite intimidating. Actually, I like you. I think you’re a brilliant actor. But when you get too good, you put yourself in the crosshairs of too many rifles. You’re too much of a threat now. You should have watched your steeps the entire time. And stay away from white women.”
In 1975, Sylvester Stallone was a struggling character actor. Penning a script and despite lacking name recognition, he successfully campaigned to play the main character (Rocky) ultimately parlaying his success into a one-man franchise that would be worth millions.
Even at 100 years old, Clint Eastwood continues enjoys career autonomy to develop passion projects. Gossett's star power wasn't enough to get gatekeepers to greenlight his creative ideas. Pitches for Harlem stories and Black cowboy vehicles would be rebuffed---eventually landing on TV and film years later ("Godfather of Harlem" "Hoodlum" and "American Gangster", "Lawman: Sam Bass") ---without his stewardship.
Forty-one when cast as in Roots and forty-five during his Oscar-winning breakthrough in An Officer and A Gentleman (a future hint at Samuel L. Jackson's brash bravado), Gossett remained "continuously on the mature fringe of the artistic renaissance surrounding him."
Even in advancing age, Eastwood's flinty virility and depth were evident in his work ("The Mule" "Gran Torino" "Million Dollar Baby") keeping with his symbolic cultural icon of masculinity" status.
At fifty Gossett was cast as a fighter pilot in the Top Gun-inspired Iron Eagle series: twenty years older than Smith in his similar breakthrough role-(Independence Day). Billed with a younger white co-star to boost he film's mainstream appeal, its story arc framed Gossett as passive paternal figure void of Tom Cruise or Smith's potent masculinity.
Decades older than Washington and Boseman in their star turns as Rubin "Hurricane" Carter" and Jackie Robinson in The Hurricane and 41, Gossett played a grizzled boxer and Negro league pitcher Satchel Paige in his sixties.
Following his successful Equalizer franchise trilogy. Washington is set to enter his seventies as Hannibal the Conqueror----decades after Gossett's failed attempts to leverage his clout to bring heroic African stories for TV and film.
If there was one singular tragedy of Gossett's career, it's the fact he never enjoyed the trajectory of fellow late bloomer Morgan Freeman.
A year younger than Gossett---a fifty-year-old Freeman's career ascended following his performance as pimp in 1987 crime thriller Street Smart. Over the next three decades he'd move between period pieces, voiceovers, comedy ensembles, science fiction and thrillers.
I often wonder what Gossett's future career arc may have been if he was cast as the Civil War Army Sergeant in 1989's Glory instead of Freeman.
Acknowledging he arrived twenty years too early, Gossett celebrated the trailblazing efforts who'd come after (Angela Bassett, Halle Berry and Beyonce). Wrongfully deemed "uninsurable and unreliable" for roles that would eventually go to Jackson and Freeman---he was quick to give praise:
"It sounds like a bad story, but God works in mysterious ways, and we needed to see the brilliant talents of those actors anyway."
Gossett pondered Hollywood's lack of diversity ("too often I was the only Black face in the white crowd"). Enduring psychological effects of always taking the high road ("eventually I got tired of playing the game of saying what others wanted to hear") he'd retreat to isolation on movie sets instead of "always being the perfect gentleman."
Failing to break through Hollywood's glass ceiling, he conceded defeat ("the gauntlet had been flung. But I had no longer had the energy to pick it up and run with it").
Gossett's sixties saw him endure multiple life challenges: Accountants misappropriated his money. Chronic dysentery acquired during filming at overseas location plagued him. Stricken with toxic mold exposure undetected in his home and given six months to live he still worked to pay the bills. Drug rumors continued to dog him.
Isolated and lonely---he invited unscrupulous people into his home. They plucked him clean of money, clothing and prized possessions as he watched weak and helpless. Following a failed suicide attempt with a cocktail of alcohol and drugs, Gossett entered rehab. On the cusp of seventy, he emerged clean and sober. Retracing the steps of his addictions, Gossett embraced his personal failures, purging himself of past anger and disappointment. A post-recovery interview saw he looked at his career with a renewed perspective:
I thought I'd get my just desserts (opportunity and compensation) I could only compare what Paul Newman got...what Marlon Brando got...which I never got....I never got a million dollars per movie. But what I did get was a respect globally by my peers and by the rest of the world which is invaluable. I didn't know it at the time but your grow to it, but makes you stay alive, I guess..There is a legacy there that is much more important than gathering that money and fame.... I've grown up to know what is most important......So I got what is most with that Oscar which is the acknowledgment of the world and the people I respect.
Never forgetting how his early police encounters "affective his (mental) system, Gossett established a foundation to combat racism. Dedicating his life to improving humanity across racial lines---importance of ancestral continuation was high on his list. Advocating Black historical stories to be told onscreen ("it's a natural thing to be mentor at this age"), he believed they would educate and inspire and "add to the fabric of America."
Rehab and medical treatment for his health condition damaging his internal organs rebuilt his life. A "staggering $1.5 million" high-interest loan ("that I might as well be paying for the rest of my life") rebuilt his home.
Gossett kept on working on a multitude of projects: an HBO series, faith-based content, and independent films. Wheelchair bound by his final half-decade, he remained prolific until the end. Acknowledging Hollywood's diversity shift ("it's changing") he celebrated the talent of the current generation of Black actors following in his footsteps.
After completion of his cameo for The Color Purple reboot---the final role in his lifetime---cast and crew rendered Gossett an emotional sendoff (captured on social media) expressing their adulation and respect "for the roads he paved and the trails he blazed."
Not many creatives are still alive who can boast lives and careers before the advent of television. Following transitions of Cecily Tyson (2021), Sidney Poitier (2022) and Harry Belafonte (2023), Louis Gossett, Jr was cinema's solitary Black Lion in Winter. His passing at 87 is not the death of a living legend---it marks the loss of walking historical almanac who carried the mantle of cinematic excellence until the end of his life.
An old African proverb states that when an old man dies a library burns to the ground. Thankfully, Gossett's personal accounts and stellar performances will continue to live on and serve as eternal footprints for others to follow.
Excellent piece Sheldon!
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