My Life as an Actor

Most of us have probably had an interesting job or two before we started our professional careers. For me, it was as an actor in an all-African-American theater group.

Background: Later this month, my wife, Pat, and I will be traveling to New York City to visit our family and to take in a few plays on Broadway. One of them is a revival of Purlie Victorious, written and performed in the 1960s by Ossie Davis and his wife, Ruby Dee. The play holds special interest for me because I was in a production of it in 1969. I played the only white role, Ol’ Cap’n Cotchipee. Here’s my story:

In 1968, after graduating from the University of Michigan, I went to New York to teach elementary school. I was assigned to PS 211 in Harlem as a teacher in the role of “above-quota substitute” (the teacher absence in NYC was so high that year that the school board assigned a permanent substitute to every school). At the beginning of the school year, I became friends with a fellow teacher, Al Fann, who had come to New York from Cleveland, where he had been acting at the Karamu Theater, a famous African-American playhouse. He came to New York with the dream of becoming a star on Broadway and in Hollywood. He had recently established the Al Fann Theatrical Ensemble, consisting of teenagers and young African-American adults who were interested in becoming actors. At PS 211, he was teaching African-American Heritage to elementary school children.

When I expressed interest in the theater group, Al invited me to attend some of the rehearsals. They were held at the Olatunji studio on 125th St. in Harlem (Olatunji was one of the world’s most famous African drummers). I enjoyed myself so much that I kept coming back every Saturday for several weeks. I also started attending the weeknight rehearsals that Mr. Fann conducted in the basement of his apartment building on 135th St.

One week, he announced to the ensemble that he was going to launch a production of Purlie Victorious, a play written by his friend, Ossie Davis. In the 1960s, Purlie ran on Broadway for several years.

All the roles in the play were written for black actors, except for one, Ol’ Cap’n Cotchipee, a white, bigoted, southerner who looked a lot like Colonel Sanders. When it came to casting the play, all eyes in the ensemble turned toward me, the only white person within a square mile radius of 135th St.

Understand, I had never acted before. Nor could I dance or sing, skills required for the role. However, my philosophy of life up to that point was that the key to success was to never turn down an opportunity. Furthermore, how could I disappoint my new friends, my theater mates from Harlem?

My attempts to perform this role produced many laughs. Unfortunately, most of them were from the cast, not the audience. I guess I performed well enough. I got the part and continued to perform with the troupe for the next two years. I also took on the additional roles of business manager and publicist. My publicist efforts were good enough that I was able to get the play covered by the New York Times, which gave it an excellent review. We performed the play all over the Northeast, including Connecticut, Boston, and Washington, DC. We even performed at Lincoln Center on the anniversary of Martin Luther King‘s death.

As a member of the troupe, I began to play extra roles in several movies. If you look closely, you can see the back of my head in the film, Cotton Comes to Harlem. Al was even able to get all of us a Screen Actors Guild card.

Working in Harlem, I met many fascinating African-American actors, including Cassie Davis, Ruby Dee, and an up-and-coming young actor, Ron O’Neal, who went on to play the role of Super Fly in the famous 1970s hit movie.

One of the highlights of that time was being invited to attend the cast party of the film Cotton Comes to Harlem, hosted by Samuel Goldwyn Junior. We all got drunk as we enjoyed the party on a boat that cruised around Manhattan.

We were also able to cast several of the kids from PS 211 as extras in several films. One time, from 7 PM to 3 AM, Al and I took a bus with a dozen elementary school kids to film The Pursuit of Happiness. On the set, I struck up a conversation with a beautiful young actress. I didn’t realize until all the actors were called onto the set that I had been chatting with the star of the film, a young Barbara Hershey.

One of Al Fann’s most significant contributions to the community was the development of a new play, King Heroin. The ensemble created the play by improvising scenes of how heroin was devastating Harlem. I had the role of Mr. Morelli, a mafia kingpin who supplied the heroin to the local pushers. King Heroin was performed many times, including one of the first-ever productions on cable TV.

Rob and Candy Mobley in King Heroin in 1970

In 1970, I gave serious consideration to making my career in acting and producing. My girlfriend and future wife, Pat Carino, who moved to New York in 1969 and also joined the company, had more success in show business. She became a production assistant for a new soap opera, All My Children. As for me, I guessed I was not able to compete with Dustin Hoffman or Richard Gere, nor was I making any progress at all in singing and dancing. I decided pursuing a degree in psychology made much more sense.

My two years in the Al Fann Theatrical Ensemble were some of the most fun-filled, exciting, and gratifying years of my life. The talent of the kids was superb. Several of them went on to become actors in Hollywood. You might recognize Vernee Watson, who went on to play several important roles, including playing the mother on Fresh Prince of Belair.

Al Fann, himself, had a very successful career including a major role in The French Connection, one of the greatest films of all time. He played the undercover cop who got beat up in the bathroom of a dive bar by Gene Hackman who played Popeye Doyle.

Working in Harlem, I met many fascinating African-American actors, including Cassie Davis, Ruby Dee, and an up-and-coming young actor, Ron O’Neal, who went on to play the role of Super Fly in the famous 1970s hit movie.

Given how exciting a time we had in New York City, you can understand how thrilled we are to be able to see that there will be a revival of Purlie Victorious on Broadway. So far, they haven’t asked me to play Ol’ Cap’n Cotchipee, but I am relearning my lines, just in case.