In connection with my book about presidents in movies, Four Scores and Seven Reels Ago (Applause Books, 2023) I wanted to give a shout out to The Man, starring James Earl Jones as Douglass Dillman, the first black President of the United States.
This movie was released in theaters on July 19, 1972 - and thus is just about to have it's 51st anniversary - by Paramount Pictures, although produced by ABC as a television movie-of-the-week. It was based on a 1964 novel by Irving Wallace that was set to go in front of the cameras back in the 1960s with Sammy Davis Jr. producing and Sidney Poitier as the star, but then moved to another production company ready to make it in 1968 with Jim Brown as Dillman, before finally landing at ABC.
The novel is essentially a rewrite of the Andrew Johnson administration, where an outsider became president after the unlikely death of the president (for Johnson it was Lincoln, for Dillman it is a fictional president clearly patterned after Kennedy), who refuses to follow the demands of a cabinet that is set to do their business and a congress out to ridicule him for obtaining a station in life that they think is too far above him. This all leads to an impeachment trial at a time in the book (and at the time the book was published) had only occurred once with a president.
Of course, the focus of The Man is that Dillman is a black man, which was an angle for a novel that made it of interest to readers. The problem was that ABC wanted to make a tradition 95-minute movie that would fit a two-hour time-slot. The task was given to Rod Serling (who had previously scripted another presidential thriller, Seven Days in May, and of course of Twilight Zone fame), who was faced with gutting most of the meat of the large novel and toning down the racial aspects that still simmer on the surface of the movie. (Jones at one point, confronted Serling about writing in a sequence dealing with an Apartheid South African minister appearing in the film and yet not allowing Dillman to confront him, only for Serling to say, "No, Jimmy, that would be another story." Essentially meaning that there just wasn't time to go there in the amount of film they had available to them. Jones reluctantly agreed and they moved on.) Gone are characters such as a racist Secret Service agent who eventually saves Dillman's life during an assassination attempt, a senator's daughter who tries to seduce Dillman and then claims assault when Dillman refuses, Dillman's son, who is leaning towards joining a radical political movement, a daughter hiding out as white, and two reporters willing to do anything to get dirt on the president. In some cases, perhaps just as well, but the reduction of the various plots take out a good part of the heart of the story as well.
Oddly, if the film had been made in 1968 it may have stood up to more aggressive handling of the racial issues in a studio system that was shaken up to be freer about subject matter. On the flip side, if the network had waited two more years when the "television mini-series" novelizations were hot (such as with The Captain and the King, Rich Man, Poor Man, and - of course - Roots), they could have added much of the novel's complex backstory to the project. Instead, it was pretty much a movie intended as a night's filler sometime that spring in 1972.
Then ABC heard that Robert Redford was working on a movie called The Candidate that would be released to coincide with the upcoming 1972 election. ABC saw their chance and decided to release The Man to theaters as a means to piggyback off of Redford's film.
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The filmmakers and cast were in shock - their movie had all the earmarks of a made-for-television movie, with sets, dialogue, plotting, and a 20-day-schedule that made it obvious it was for television and not for the theaters. To put that up on the big screen meant the seams would show and it wasn't going to be pretty. So much more could have and would have been done if everyone had seen it as a theatrical feature.
As it was, they were right - the movie failed at the box office with mild critical praise. It would then eventually air that fall on ABC as was originally intended. Oddly enough, in the climate of today, it's interesting to see a movie where the ad would go as far as using a slur in it (see above) and have the "N" word dropped on occasions, but get a G rating. Way of the 1970s, really.
With all that in mind, the movie still has moments that shine through and Jones is excellent as a man who was happy in his role hidden within Congress and is forced to shine as president because no one really believes in him so he has to believe in himself. In a major revision from the novel, while Dillman in the book declines to run again after winning his impeachment trial, Jones' Dillman is proud to run again in order to continue to prove himself to be the leader the country needs. It's not a complete failure as a movie, which is perhaps more frustrating in that you can readily see how forceful the movie could have been if given the money and space it needed rather than being another in a long line of "movies of the week."
Even so, I think it is well worth a look if you can find a copy (a so-so copy floats around on YouTube every now and then).
And more details on this and other presidential movies in my book, Four Scores and Seven Reels Ago, out in bookstores everywhere and available as an eBook through various online sources as well!
