Show Boat–Part Four

We have come to the last installment of our examination of Show Boat. We have seen clips of what others have said of the musical and movie; we have heard the ensemble numbers and the love duets. All of that is wonderful; but, in our opinion, it does not explain the lasting power of the show. As a nation of immigrants, all have experienced some form of discrimination, whether it be the Irish, the Poles, the Italians or the Jews. We have been especially brutal to those who owned part of the land mass that we now call America, such as the native American Tribes and the original Mexican land owners. However, we never subjected any of these groups to the greatest human indignity of all, the attempt by one person to “own” another–slavery. Only one group was forcibly brought to our shores in chains, Africans. We spend a great deal of time on this subject in our website section on How Broadway Became Broadway. However, we don’t spend our energy on slavery itself but rather on the musical expression of suffering that came out of the African-American community because of slavery. The most poignant songs are the work songs and the blues; the most uplifting songs are found in Gospel music and spirituals.

By the 1920’s, outside of the church, Gospel music and spirituals were rarely heard. As we explained in Part One, Paul Robeson brought back the music in concert form in 1925 and 1926. Because of the effect of these concerts on Jerome Kern and Oscar Hammerstein II, we now have the one song that makes Show Boat so important; the song that makes us come back to this musical 90 years after it was created. It encompasses the same reason that makes Gospel music and spirituals so important: the preservation of the dignity of the human soul in the face of extreme cruelty. Put another way, in the midst of the darkness of evil, the light of love and forgiveness shines through. If we see “Ol’ Man River” through the lens of a protest against slavery and suppression, we miss the universal power of the song and the role of Joe as an “untutored philosopher.”

We could write a book on this subject or at least a few chapters of a book on it, so we cannot do this song justice in just a few hundred words. But we can summarize some of our key thoughts. One, Joe is not a stevedore; he does not perform hard labor, like toting a barge or lifting a bale of cotton. Two, Joe is part of a happy family on the showboat, white and black, as we saw in the video clip of “Can’t Help Lovin’ Dat Man.” Three, Joe is talking about the whole human race, the planters and reapers on the land who are “soon forgotten.” Four, Joe is not frightened by life, just tired of “trying to live” each and every day. Five, implied in the “trying to live” motif is the concept of moral courage, trying to be a good person. Thanks to the additional song added to the 1936 movie, we get a better picture of Joe through the lyrics of “Ah Still Suits Me.” The point being made is that, when you are not the eternal river of life, even though that’s what you “would like to be,” you have a burden as a human being to live a decent, good life and to be the best friend or husband you know how to be. Remember that Joe starts the song because he wants to ask the river “what he thinks” of man that Magnolia has just met (Gaylord Ravenal).

In many ways, Joe recognizes the precious nature of the family on the showboat and wants to find a way to protect that family from harm. In other ways, Joe recognizes the universal nature of this struggle (to preserve and protect) and recognizes his own limitations, what he can do and what is beyond his reach. That is the message of this philosopher, whether the philosopher’s name is Joe or Oscar.

Before we go to the musical illustrations, we thought you might like to learn more about Joe’s other half, Queenie. In the movie, Queenie is played by Hattie McDaniel; and, as with all of the roles played by Hattie McDaniel, it is sometimes hard to know where the character ends and where Hattie begins. You saw her in the clip that we will not repeat (“Can’t Help Lovin’ Dat Man”), and you will see her in “Ah Still Suits Me.” The key to Hattie’s characterization is that she nags “with love.” There is no meanness in her. While we don’t have much to show about her, we do have Fay Bainter’s introduction of Hattie and Hattie’s own words expressing her hopes to be a credit to her race and her profession.

So, let’s listen to the rest of the video and audio clips to see how all of the themes work together.

First, we have Queenie’s premonition about the events that are about to unfold (“Mis’ry’s Comin’ Aroun’ “). The musical number was stricken from the Broadway show because it was too dark and negative for the 1927 stage, especially if the producer was Florenz Ziegfeld.

Next, we have the video clip of the delightful duet between Joe and Queenie, “Ah Still Suits Me.”

The final part of the puzzle actually comes first in the sequence dictated by the libretto. It is the song “Ol’ Man River.” Because Robeson was in London, he did not originate the role on Broadway; however, he did join the cast, when the show moved to its run in London. Jules Bledsoe originated the role on Broadway, and we are going to provide an audio clip of his interpretation of the music. People point out that he rolls his “r’s” because he was trained for the opera. More than that, his rendition is more stiff and formal than we might like; and his timing and pauses seem somehow out of place.

Now, let’s listen to the style, tempo and more natural rhythm that we have come to know in Paul Robeson’s interpretation.