Post by petrolino on Mar 21, 2020 22:55:26 GMT
Action Jackson
Samuel Leroy Jackson was born on 21 December, 1948 in Washington, D.C., the capital of the United States of America. He's a sagittarius, born on the shortest day of the year, like fellow counterculture icons Frank Zappa and Jane Fonda. His father, Roy Henry Jackson, lived in Kansas City, Missouri, and died from alcoholism. His mother, factory worker Elizabeth Harriett (née Montgomery), raised her son in Chattanooga, Tennessee. Jackson is of Gabonese descent and he became a naturalized citizen of Gabon in 2019 (Gabon gained independence from France in 1960).
He attended Morehouse College in Atlanta, Georgia. He initially planned to study marine biology, like actress Brinke Stevens, but he caught the acting bug and switched courses, earning a degree in Dramatic Arts in 1972. Jackson co-founded the 'Just Us Theatre' troupe around this time, before embarking upon an unsteady life in theatre that at times saw him living as an itinerant.
"Stutterers often start life on the back foot. But this theme seems to run even deeper with Samuel Jackson. Raised in Chattanooga in racially segregated Tennessee by his grandparents, he was born to an alcoholic father he met twice and a mother he saw sporadically for the first nine years. An only child, Jackson describes himself as shy and bookish. “I was encouraged to read when I was very small,” he remembers. “I was reading by the time I was three or four years old. I devoured books.”
This was, he says, because he wanted to elevate himself through education. But, growing up, he started to develop the stutter. Concerned about his confidence, his aunt, a teacher in Chattanooga, enrolled him in speech therapy and encouraged him to act, casting him in her school plays. Looking back, Jackson says he remembers feeling “loved and encouraged” by his family. “I was very content in terms of that. But I also knew that their desires were as great as mine – you know, for me to get out. Because the only thing I knew growing up was that I was not going to live in that town or place. That was not an option.”
He raises a finger. “They just had to make sure I stayed alive to get out.” He laughs. “Because they recognised the rebel in me. They were like: ‘We’d better watch this boy.’”
So how did his rebellion manifest itself at such a young age?
He shrugs. “Well, I asked a lot of questions. My grandfather was a janitor, so he worked for all these different people who were generally older white men. When I was around, I would answer ’em back.”
He stares at me. “I was one of those direct-stare kids. And young black kids,” he says, “that’s just not what you do. You keep your head down. You answer questions. But I was looking into their eyes and the next thing I know, it was: ‘So who are you? What do you do?’ And my grandfather’s like: ‘F*cking shut up!’ But I’d say: ‘What is that? What does that mean?’ And they would say: ‘Boy, you’re asking the questions.’”
“But I just wanted to know. I just wanted to identify people in this world and what they had, and why I didn’t have it. Why a man who was half my grandfather’s age could call him by his first name and why my grandfather would have to call him Mr Something.”
Jackson did get out. He went to Morehouse in Atlanta – America’s Oxbridge for young black men. To start with, he studied marine biology but switched to architecture then drama and earned himself a reputation for being involved in early battles for racial equality. In 1969 he was charged and convicted for his involvement in a protest in college and suspended for two years. He subsequently got involved with the Black Power movement (he was an usher at Martin Luther King’s funeral), but before long his mother received a visit from the FBI telling her that his life was at risk.
She sent him to Los Angeles. Then, after two years of being employed as a social worker, Jackson returned to college. It was here that he met his wife LaTanya, who moved with him to New York in 1976 – both actors found work in off-Broadway plays.
But over the next decade, Jackson developed a problem with drugs and alcohol. When I ask him about this period – a time spent drinking bourbon and wine from 8am and smoking weed right through to his performances in the evening – he describes himself as a “functioning alcoholic”.
“I enjoyed it,” he shrugs.
What kind of drunk were you?
“Oh…” he has to think. “Fun? I had a great time. According to most of my friends I was fun. But every now and then I’d get that phone call: ‘I didn’t know you felt that way about me…’”
So you were an “I love you” drunk?
“No, I’d say: ‘You an as*hole!’” he laughs. “‘F*ck you!’ Then I’d have to explain.”
In 1990 he went to rehab. The story goes that Richardson and their daughter Zoe, now 31, found Jackson unconscious on the kitchen table. He’s been sober ever since.
So what was his last drink?
“Tequila,” he remembers instantly, in the way that recovered alcoholics do. “I got smashed at a bachelor party.”
Do you miss it?
“No. I guess one of my big questions when I got sober was: ‘Am I gonna be fun?’ But yeah, I still am.”
Jackson has said that there is a direct correlation between getting clean and his success. Before he quit alcohol, Richardson referred to his acting as “bloodless”. Certainly, he says, his acting improved. But there’s a sense that working has also become his new addiction. With an average of five to six films a year, Jackson has an astonishing output. But at his age and with his success (let alone money), I say, nobody needs to work at the rate he does. Or do they?
Jackson smiles. “Painters get up and paint. Writers get up and write. I get up and create characters. I like creating. It fuels me. And it’s doing something that keeps me from being me all day.”
If you were you all day, would that be a problem?
“It can be a problem, yes. I’d rather be working.”
This was, he says, because he wanted to elevate himself through education. But, growing up, he started to develop the stutter. Concerned about his confidence, his aunt, a teacher in Chattanooga, enrolled him in speech therapy and encouraged him to act, casting him in her school plays. Looking back, Jackson says he remembers feeling “loved and encouraged” by his family. “I was very content in terms of that. But I also knew that their desires were as great as mine – you know, for me to get out. Because the only thing I knew growing up was that I was not going to live in that town or place. That was not an option.”
He raises a finger. “They just had to make sure I stayed alive to get out.” He laughs. “Because they recognised the rebel in me. They were like: ‘We’d better watch this boy.’”
So how did his rebellion manifest itself at such a young age?
He shrugs. “Well, I asked a lot of questions. My grandfather was a janitor, so he worked for all these different people who were generally older white men. When I was around, I would answer ’em back.”
He stares at me. “I was one of those direct-stare kids. And young black kids,” he says, “that’s just not what you do. You keep your head down. You answer questions. But I was looking into their eyes and the next thing I know, it was: ‘So who are you? What do you do?’ And my grandfather’s like: ‘F*cking shut up!’ But I’d say: ‘What is that? What does that mean?’ And they would say: ‘Boy, you’re asking the questions.’”
“But I just wanted to know. I just wanted to identify people in this world and what they had, and why I didn’t have it. Why a man who was half my grandfather’s age could call him by his first name and why my grandfather would have to call him Mr Something.”
Jackson did get out. He went to Morehouse in Atlanta – America’s Oxbridge for young black men. To start with, he studied marine biology but switched to architecture then drama and earned himself a reputation for being involved in early battles for racial equality. In 1969 he was charged and convicted for his involvement in a protest in college and suspended for two years. He subsequently got involved with the Black Power movement (he was an usher at Martin Luther King’s funeral), but before long his mother received a visit from the FBI telling her that his life was at risk.
She sent him to Los Angeles. Then, after two years of being employed as a social worker, Jackson returned to college. It was here that he met his wife LaTanya, who moved with him to New York in 1976 – both actors found work in off-Broadway plays.
But over the next decade, Jackson developed a problem with drugs and alcohol. When I ask him about this period – a time spent drinking bourbon and wine from 8am and smoking weed right through to his performances in the evening – he describes himself as a “functioning alcoholic”.
“I enjoyed it,” he shrugs.
What kind of drunk were you?
“Oh…” he has to think. “Fun? I had a great time. According to most of my friends I was fun. But every now and then I’d get that phone call: ‘I didn’t know you felt that way about me…’”
So you were an “I love you” drunk?
“No, I’d say: ‘You an as*hole!’” he laughs. “‘F*ck you!’ Then I’d have to explain.”
In 1990 he went to rehab. The story goes that Richardson and their daughter Zoe, now 31, found Jackson unconscious on the kitchen table. He’s been sober ever since.
So what was his last drink?
“Tequila,” he remembers instantly, in the way that recovered alcoholics do. “I got smashed at a bachelor party.”
Do you miss it?
“No. I guess one of my big questions when I got sober was: ‘Am I gonna be fun?’ But yeah, I still am.”
Jackson has said that there is a direct correlation between getting clean and his success. Before he quit alcohol, Richardson referred to his acting as “bloodless”. Certainly, he says, his acting improved. But there’s a sense that working has also become his new addiction. With an average of five to six films a year, Jackson has an astonishing output. But at his age and with his success (let alone money), I say, nobody needs to work at the rate he does. Or do they?
Jackson smiles. “Painters get up and paint. Writers get up and write. I get up and create characters. I like creating. It fuels me. And it’s doing something that keeps me from being me all day.”
If you were you all day, would that be a problem?
“It can be a problem, yes. I’d rather be working.”
- Megan Conner, The Guardian
Samuel Jackson & Air Force Senior Master Sergeant John Pighini
Lashana Lynch & Brie Larson greet the Marvel Military
'Ballad Of A Thin Man' - Bob Dylan
Jackson fought against segregation as a member of the civil rights movement. It's been alleged he became a member of the Black Panther Party and was heavily enagaged in the Black Power movement, but his past as a freedom-fighter remains shrouded in mystery. He plays trumpet, French horn, flute and piccolo.
Samuel L. Jackson, Dorsey Wright, Howard E. Rollins Jr., Frankie Faison & Calvin Levels in Milos Forman's 'Ragtime' (1981)
Halle Berry, Ernest Dickerson, Spike Lee & Wesley Snipes
Samuel Jackson & John Singleton
Allen Hughes & Albert Hughes
Joseph B. Vasquez
Chic member, martial arts instructor & Black Panther Nile Rodgers chats with grime singer Big Narstie
His screen career took a long time to get going, beginning with obscure independent 'Together for Days' (1972) which I've not seen. I have, however, seen nearly every film he made in the 1980s and 1990s, when he became a much sought-after character actor and worked with some of the most notable filmmakers of the day. His addictions to hard drugs are well documented and he's lucky to be alive having overdosed. He entered rehab in 1990 which enabled him to turn his life around; his portrayal of jittery crack addict Gator in Spike Lee's 'Jungle Fever' (1991) made film history when Jackson received the only Best Supporting Actor award ever given by the jury at the Cannes Film Festival.
'Skin Tight' - Ohio Players
Jackson became a key member of Spike Lee's stock company in the 1980s and Quentin Tarantino's stock company in the 1990s, leading the two fiery filmmakers to frequently lock horns in public.
Samuel Jackson & Spike Lee
'School Daze' (1988)
'Do The Right Thing' (1989)
'Do The Right Thing' (1989)
'Mo' Better Blues' (1990)
'Jungle Fever' (1991)
'Oldboy' (2013)
'Chi-Raq' (2015)
Interview with Spike Lee
Samuel Jackson & Quentin Tarantino
'Pulp Fiction' (1994)
'Jackie Brown' (1997)
'Kill Bill : Volume 2' (2004)
'Inglourious Basterds' (2009)
'Django Unchained' (2012)
'The Hateful Eight' (2015)
Interviews with Spike Lee & Quentin Tarantino
Sam Jackson earned his franchise tag as the 1990s came to a close and his professional reputation skyrocketed. His real-life comic book obsession and lifelong passion for fashion led some studio directors to court him openly. He first got signed to George Lucas' 'Star Wars' franchise, and then later developed the recurring role of Nick Fury within the developing Marvel Universe. He's currently ranked as the highest all-time box office star (surpassing voice actor Frank Welker in 2011) with over $7.1 billion total US box office gross. Accoding to online data reporting, the worldwide box-office total of his films (excluding cameo appearances) is over $16.7 billion.
Old Friends
Jodie Foster & Samuel Jackson
Sylvester Stallone & Samuel Jackson
Samuel Jackson & Denzel Washington
Samuel Jackson, Spike Lee & John Turturro
George Lopez, Forest Whitaker & Samuel Jackson
Samuel Jackson, Dennis Hopper, James Woods, Clint Eastwood & Ray Romano
Samuel Jackson & Bill Nunn
Samuel Jackson & John Travolta
Julianne Moore, Samuel Jackson & early mentor Morgan Freeman
Roger Guenveur Smith, Giancarlo Esposito & Samuel Jackson
Samuel Jackson & Al Pacino
Will Smith, Halle Berry & Samuel Jackson
Spike Lee, Danny Aiello & Samuel Jackson
Michael Buscemi, Spike Lee & Steve Buscemi
Quentin Tarantino attends an event with my two favourite American character actors working today ... old friends Steve Buscemi & Samuel Jackson ...
'Lucky Man' - Emerson, Lake & Palmer
yes - a compelling presence in anything - his turn in PULP FICTION is one for the ages - he was doubly robbed at Oscar time - "beaten" by M Landau as support... but I'd say it was a lead role anyway..... I always liked his refusal to participate in anti drug messaging (He had a long class A problem before he made it big), saying that he had a really good time getting high and would feel hypocritical. 
I believe when he caught the eye in JUNGLE FEVER as the crackhead brother of Wesley Snipes* lead, director Spike Lee was asked where he found a junkie who could act so well. 
