The big question I face writing about Yaphet is this: how much do I say? Is what I’m saying even close to the truth about Yaphet Frederick Kotto? I do know this: its a dilemma I haven’t faced with any of the others.
I remind myself, and you dear readers, what is being done here. I try to take everyone and everything, in full, and explore how it created this fantastic beast called Homicide.
With Yaphet, there was soooo much. He was a private guy. He is no longer with us. So I get this sense that I’ve got to watch what I say. I’ve got fond, but awkward feelings about him. To me, he was that co-worker that you had breakfast with once or twice, back slapped at work functions, but your lives didn’t have a whole lot of connective points. Oh, and, by the way, the guy could also be a jerk to your friends.
For what reasons? Who knows. So, there was that too.
I’ll just lay down some facts, most of which you can Google, along with some of my memories; a couple good, a few odd, none really bad. And I’ll throw in some links along the way.
If you can just remember: Yaphet was Gee, and Gee was Yaphet - then, it’ll all make some sense.
Yaphet was a truly iconic powerhouse. He did a bunch of classic films including Live and Let Die, Alien, Brubaker, The Thomas Crown Affair, Across 110th Street, Midnight Run, and the extraordinary, Nothing But A Man. He directed and wrote, laid down two jazz/spoken word 45’s, and yeah, played Al Giardello for seven seasons on Homicide. He lived a good artistic life, married three times, and had six kids.
Also, Yaphet put in the time on his beliefs. He did research, wrote, thought, came up with his stories, and backed them straight down the line. Some seemed crazy and some were, uhm, who knows? Some were straight-up conspiracies, some paranoia, and others pure fantasy. Or a frosty, dizzying blend of all three.
Yaphet spoke his truth, others be damned. When asked by The Guardian about playing the first black villain in a James Bond movie, he said he was asked not to promote Live and Let Die, “They were afraid the public would react negatively to a black villain so they didn’t play my character up. That hurt me a lot, man,” he said. “I went through a lot of goddamn emotional hell because they were afraid people would be angry that a black guy was not being Sidney Poitier. I was the opposite of everything he created.”
To which I say, Thank God! Yaphet came along at the right time, in the right place, and carved out a singular niche for himself. All of us who watched those movies and his performances, I believe would agree; there was no one like him. When I first met Yaphet, I didn’t think about all the roles I’d seen him in. All I thought was, “Damn”, what a presence! Regal! I was intimidated.
I was also intimidated by Ned Beatty and Jon Polito - but, that was different, more from the work they had previously done. With Yaphet, yes it was the work, but more so, it was purely him in the here/now - I was blown back by his presence. And, AND my very first scene was with Yaphet as Giardello, introducing me to the squad room, laying down some truth, and finding me a desk.
Yet, very quickly, that magnificent presence could be complicated and overwhelmed by, what seemed like, vulnerabilities and insecurity. Often triggered by the speed in which Homicide tended to move and shoot, being disrespected by younger directors, or something possibly going on behind his back. Every year, the sound of Yaphet walking off the set, for innumerable reasons, came around like clockwork.
Like many of us, myself included, Yaphet was a paid-in-full contributor to the stressful Jekyll and Hyde feel of the Homicide set. It brought out the best and worst in us all yet gave birth to some unbelievable and unforgettable bursts of both raw and refined brilliance. Without the cast and crew’s many peccadillos - of which Yaphet had his share - Homicide might have just been meh, and fallen flat on its face.
During one of our later seasons, Yaphet became very protective and secretive about himself and his family. Even hiring Nation of Islam bodyguards as security. However, by that time, nothing seemed to phase the cast and crew, and the NOI security guys became just another fact of our day-to-day lives.
Yaphet, in his heart of hearts, wanted to help others, create more art, and knock down doors for himself and others. He was always writing (he even wrote a Homicide episode, Self Defense), and tinkering with films. One of those films that he wrote was a sort of James Bond action film with him as the romantic lead spy - a character who kills the bad guys and gets the girl. It was the kind of role that he felt had been withheld from him in the industry, one that he would need to write for himself. There was another role that he was still preparing for till the end. His last wife had supposedly written a script about the true story of Jesus Christ, with Yaphet to play Jesus. Yaphet was raised both Jewish and Christian and had a deep interest in all things spiritual. He was a Kriya Yoga practitioner in the lineage of the Indian guru, Yogananda and considered himself to be a healer. So, the whole Jesus thing was right in his wheelhouse.
He also wrote a couple of books. One was his autobiography, “ROYALTY” in which Yaphet revealed that not only was he a Crown Prince of West Africa's Cameroon, he also uncovered proof that he was the great-great-great-grandson of Britain's Queen Victoria. According to Yaphet, the queen's son had an illicit affair with the daughter of King Doualla Manga Bell, producing the light-skinned Alexander Bell, Kotto's great-grandfather. (Okay, I had to look this one up. The royal family completely denies this. Does that mean it’s not true? Who knows.)
It was Season 4, and I’d come back to Baltimore sober. I don’t remember the episode, but it was in the squad room with Yaphet. It wasn’t an emotional scene at all. I may have been stressed or had difficulty with a line, but I had a bit of an emotional breakdown. I started to shake and could feel the tears coming, and was embarrassed because it was something I couldn’t control and was NOT appropriate to the scene. The camera stopped rolling. I tried to pull myself together and, when I thought I was ready, said, “Ready to go.”
On ‘Action” the same emotions started all over. Suddenly, there’s Yaphet saying, “Cut, man, cut! We’ve got an actor in trouble here.” He got between me and the camera, pulled me under his arm, and walked me up to an area where the crew had built a makeshift gym. He said, “You’re going to be okay?” I said, yeah. Then, he left me there. That was best. I wanted to be alone with this unknown thing and he knew that. He could be very compassionate in that way.
I had watched Yaphet carefully over the years, fascinated by him and his foibles. By what brought him joy, and what set him off. One funny thing, he rarely wore dress shoes on the job. He mostly wore sneakers with his Giardello wardrobe. It was more comfortable, and maybe he needed that extra sense of comfort on our anarchistic Homicide set.
Yaphet positively loved acting. He loved the crew, most of the time. He loved to shake things up on set and loved his acting moments, which tended to unfold slowly - and were perfect for close-ups. Sometimes these could be done at the expense of the scene as a whole, yet enhanced something private and personal about Giardello. I saw how many of the guest directors would dismiss his ideas for these private moments, (as Lee Strasburg called them). Usually, because the scenes moved quickly and those moments might gobble up extra time or need special lighting.
So, later in Season 4, I was directing for the first time. We had, aside from Yaphet, a few actors who could bring the set to a crawl. In my prep, I was thinking about ways to handle each of them if that should happen. My solution with Yaphet was to let him have his take; his shot at the scene that was completely his idea no matter how out of left field it might be. Sometimes, if you give an actor that, they know you’ve got their back.
We were shooting in his office, moving at a clip through the scene. When we cut, Yaphet motioned me over to him. It was his very specific, ‘I have an idea’ motion. This was it. For me it was simple. We’d shoot the extra take, if it works, fantastic. If not, I’d at least keep a colleague happy.
When Yaphet saw that he was being heard and that his input was appreciated - it was a golden thing. He was excited. That’s when Yaphet was at his best and a true collaborator. I do remember loving his choice, loving what he did, cuz he was masterful. It was odd as I recall, but we did use a snippet of it, an outside-the-window angle on just him...in, of course, a close-up.
But, the story I always come back to with Yaphet is this last one. It captures so many of his qualities.
That first season, except for Ned, we all lived in this residential hotel in Fells Point. It was Christmas time, as I recall, Clark and I were going room to room collecting money for some sort of charity and singing carols. I remember we pulled up outside Yaphet’s room, both a bit hesitant, as his was one of the first rooms we hit up. We knocked. Nothing. Knocked again. Then, a loud, almost angry sounding, “Who is it? Whaddaya want?”
Clark who was always mischievous was suddenly sounding all conciliatory, “Just Clark and Secor.”
Again, nothing. A few seconds. Then, booming footsteps. The door swung open, and there in all his glory, stood Yaphet. He was dressed in a mid-length, Liberace-esque smoking jacket, slippers, and his hair sticking straight up.
“Yes?” that deep voice, like you are absolutely interrupting some tryst, or he may also just be fucking with you. (We were just discovering that you could never tell with Yaphet) My eyes stayed on his eyes, not daring to drift up, up, to that hair. We told him we were collecting money.
Clark swung back to his normal self, and said something like, “C’mon Yaphet, ante up.”
I prayed Clark wouldn’t mention the hair.
Yaphet stared daggers at us, then, the big grin came on.
“Christmas, huh? Lemme see.” Gleeful and childlike, he went back inside.
Clark and I didn’t say a thing. We glanced at each other. Scratched our heads, tried to hold our shit together, so as not to…
“What is it?!”
He was back. Looking suspicious. A few bills in hand.
“Nah, nothing. Merry Christmas!” Clark eased out.
“Merry Christmas,” I followed suit, my eyes glued on his chin.
He grabbed my hand and slapped the bills into it. “Don’t go spending that on women.” He laughed.
We walked away, down the hall towards another room. We hadn’t gotten far when his voice boomed out -
“Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!” Yaphet waved, chuckling, joyful and all mystery-like, then whisked back inside, and locked the door loudly for emphasis.
I don’t remember much more than that. Just us stirring the great Yaphet Kotto from something or other.
And the hair.
Well, there ya go. Those are a few recollections. I’m not saying any of them are ‘truth’, more like subjective facts. Many others on the show, from what I’ve heard, had similar interactions and came away thinking he was an incredibly kind, thoughtful, gallant, yet elusive figure.
Truth? Fiction? Who knows.
The writer shrugs his shoulders and moves on.
No one is simple, and It sounds as if Kotto was more complicated than many. You capture so many facets of the man, so vividly. The story of how he protected and helped you on set when you were going through a moment--such compassion.
He wrote two other episodes of "Homicide" that I can recall: "Narcissus" (Season 5) and "Secrets" (Season 6). Both are interesting, complex, without tidy resolutions. Thank you again for these stories and portraits of your colleagues--actors we love even more now.