During a long and prolific career, James Earl Jones undoubtedly has accumulated a great deal of wisdom and experience. It’s a shame that he chose not to share much of it with his audience. Jones, who turns 80 in January, will be starring  in “Driving Miss Daisy” on Broadway beginning this fall. But when asked to discuss how rehearsals were going, or what we can expect from his role as “Hoke,” Jones responded that we’ll have to wait and see. It was one example of many sidesteps from the veteran actor. He delivered all of his non-answers with a gentle smile and genuine humility, but it left us wanting to hear more about what he thought, felt, remembered, and loves about his theatrical career.

We did learn a bit about him. He struggled with a stutter for the early part of his life, surprising to many because he’s widely known for his booming and iconic voice. He says, to this day, he doesn’t hear his voice when he speaks. Jones’ stutter was discussed at length at the top of the evening, but no other topic seemed to resonate the same way and evoke memories and emotions in the actor. We’ve criticized Healy before for his style – he covers ground by moving chronologically through the actor’s life. Sections of the night dragged on as Healy – and then the audience during the Q&A portion – tried to get Jones to open up about subjects like race and tolerance and his own insecurities and fears.

One thing that Jones shared his views on are awards. He has received numerous honors, but warns that if awards are only “wonderful as trophies,” not as jumping off points to the next opportunity. While he has many achievements and great moments under his belt, Jones is perhaps best recognized as the voice of Darth Vader in the “Star Wars” films. He revealed that before him, the producers considered Orson Welles but deemed his voice to be too recognizable to hit the mysterious note. So they brought in Jones who said that his involvement lasted one day of shooting. “Star Wars” fans, he said, follow him everywhere, even in London last winter where he was performing “Cat on a Hot Tin Roof.”

Jones calls himself a “journeyman” who finds roles along the way. While other actors travel along a straighter path, Jones says he doesn’t have a plan. That waywardness has paid off in his career, leading to a diverse set of roles, but it also contributed to a scattered and ultimately disappointing discussion.

What They Said
“If you love words, you’ve got to be able to say them out loud. That’s what words are for.”
- James Earl Jones’ high school teacher helped him learn how to communicate better

“The only acting I did in high school, I was the rear end of a horse.”
- James Earl Jones has grown into larger parts since then

“We fell in love with the same character. It’s like when you fall in love with the same girl.”
- James Earl Jones says that he and Denzel Washington each brought their own flair to the lead in August Wilson’s “Fences”

“I did finally get Morgan Freeman out of my mind…and I can’t do that Hoke.”
– James Earl Jones will try to do justice to his “Driving Miss Daisy” role

What We Thought

• Healy had a hard time getting Jones to open up and answer his questions, particularly those directed at what Jones learned from roles and experiences. After it became clear that Jones was sticking to the facts, and not going down the road Healy wished, Healy could have shifted his questions in the other direction.
• Jones said that he enjoys being an actor because the profession allows you to explore parts of yourself that you wouldn’t otherwise. He said that he’s had a hard time personally distancing himself from the difficult roles he’s played in “cruel” plays. In fact, it made him physically ill to play “Big Daddy” in “Cat on a Hot Tin Roof.”

PANEL RULES!
Some audience behavior seems to repeat itself panel after panel. We’ll be updating a running list of “PANEL RULES!” that will help ensure that you are not the dweeb of the Panel Nerds.

Panel Nerds don’t like…Fawning Admirers
Too many questions during the audience segment weren’t actually questions. We give a pass to the guy who told Jones what an inspiration he was to the black community. We even accept the standard, cliche question asking which actor he most enjoyed working with. But this panel had some of the strangest other expressions of admiration we’d ever seen: One woman asked Jones to confirm he acted in a play in Connecticut many years ago; one talked about her relationship with Terry Southern, a friend of Jones’; one asked Jones to describe his voice in one word; and one brought Jones an early birthday gift. The whole spectacle made us long for requests for advice for young actors hoping to break into acting.

Washington Post columnist and Power Grid #3 Dana Milbank delivers an impassioned Sunday column today, using a literary allusion and extended metaphor to describe the dealmaking that occurred yesterday in the Senate. It’s all very Southern — straight out of a Tennessee Williams play, he contends in “Sweeteners for the South.” And it may sound like your typical gimmicky op-ed fare, but it works this time. I mean, her name is Blanche.

Her, of course, being Sen. Blanche Lincoln of Arkansas, the final hold out among the Democrats in the Senate, all of whom were needed to keep the bill alive. The other Senator in need of wooing was Sen. Mary Landrieu of Louisiana, who earlier in the day agreed to support the proliferation of the legislation in return for a financial “fix” for her state. “And it’s not a $100 million fix. It’s a $300 million fix,” she said.

Milbank writes:

The plot was gripping — the bill survived Saturday’s procedural test without a single vote to spare — and it brought out the rank partisanship, the self-absorption and all the other pathologies of modern politics. If that wasn’t enough of a Tennessee Williams story line, the debate even had, playing the lead role, a Southerner named Blanche with a flair for the dramatic.

On Lincoln, he continues: “Like other Democratic moderates who knew a single vote could kill the bill, she took a streetcar named Opportunism, transferred to one called Wavering and made off with concessions of her own.”

The entire story is an illustrative tale of politics in their most nakedly loathsome, “we always knew it was this way” way, spun by Milbank into a compelling narrative. It’s a perfectly frustrating and instructive Sunday read. And here it is.

(h/t Pat’s Papers)