Sadly, most people of a certain age only know Clarence Williams, III, as The Kid’s father in Purple Rain. However, Williams was already a legendary actor before Purple Rain. Yet, to tell the truth, I only know this because of my mother’s reaction when my fourteen-year-old-self told her that Williams is one of the actors in Purple Rain. That was the unfortunate day that I realized that my mother was a woman in full. She asked, “Who is going to be in this silly little movie with this nasty little man that you tryin’ to see so bad?” She was unimpressed by my rundown of the roster of the Purple Citizens in the film until I ended with, “and some actor named Clarence Williams, III.” At that moment, my mother’s eyes illuminated like the Rockefeller Center Christmas Tree and then began to smolder while a look of passion danced across her face. She placed her hand over her fast-beating heart as she both asked and swooned, “Linc from Mod Squad?” I didn’t know what a Linc or a Mod Squad was, but I knew, from the expression on her face and the urgency in her voice, that it didn’t have nothing to do with church, and all I wanted to do was leave the room before I was scarred for life.
Not wanting to see that look on my mother’s face or hear that silky tone in her voice ever again, I avoided her like Wednesday night Bible study and opted to ask Pops if he would take me. During those days, theatres were somewhat strict about who could and could not attend R-rated movies. Since Purple Rain is R-rated and I couldn’t drive, I needed someone to take me to the film. Luckily, my Pops dug Prince and graciously offered to take me and my cousin John to see the film. Yet, it didn’t take long for John and me to realize that Pops was using us as an excuse to see the film. After The Time performed “Jungle Love,” Pops leaned toward us and stated, “Shid, Morris Day is kicking Prince’s ass. What time is it?!?” All John and I could do was roll our eyes. As we were driving home and discussing the film, my Pops casually stated, “Well, I knew that this wasn’t gon’ be no bullshit film ‘cause Clarence Williams, III, don’t make no bullshit.” At that point, I needed to discover who this dude was. And, my research confirmed Pops’ assertion that Williams never made bullshit art.
With a resume too long to list, Williams was that rare actor who could be physically intimidating, intellectual, and mysterious simultaneously. He had the looks of a leading man and the skill of a character actor, losing himself in roles that would often redefine black intellect and masculinity. He began as a stage actor in 1957 and, eventually, won a Tony nomination and Theatre World Award for his performance in Slow Dance on the Killing Ground. From that point, Williams became the acting equivalent of a Swiss Army Knife, portraying a variety of roles in works, such as The Cool World, Hill Street Blues, Miami Vice, 52 Pick-Up, The Cosby Show, Twin Peaks, I’m Gonna Get You Sucker, Deep Cover, Sugar Hill, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, Hoodlum, Half Baked, Life, Law and Order, American Gangster, Everybody Hates Chris, and The Butler, just to name a few. When my stepdaughter learned of Williams’ death, she surprised me when she stated, “Dang, I really enjoyed him in Tales from the Hood.” His versatility was rooted in his seeming mastery of emotional intelligence. He was from that Sidney Poitier and Marlon Brando school of method acting in which brooding introspection produced self-aware characters who could be subtle or flamboyant. Williams always chose the proper tone for a scene. Yet, I return to Mod Squad because it is one of thirteen programs that began between 1966 and 1975 that featured African American stars who broke with the stereotyped roles of Amos ‘n’ Andy and Beulah. (As an aside, my Pops always loved Amos ‘n’ Andy and felt that it got a bad rap.) Additionally, The Mod Squad presented an African-American character (Linc) as an equal to the Caucasian characters. A precursor to actors like Avery Brooks, Williams helped to redefine African-American manhood as being uncompromisingly black, strong, insightful, and tender. Williams knew vulnerability enhanced masculinity. His presence provides the foundation for the entire narrative of Purple Rain as Prince and Morris Day, in their refashioning of stylishly hip black masculinity, are able to be as outlandish and different as they desire because Williams is the rock that anchors the film. Similar to Heath Ledger’s portrayal of Joker in The Dark Knight, Williams is the soul of Purple Rain, supplying the angst and the energy needed to give the narrative artistic credibility and depth.
Williams was an actor’s actor. I can only imagine there’s a table in heaven surrounded by all of Williams’ characters, having a great conversation about the multi-dimensionality of blackness.