As featured in February/March 1998
Glory & Honor
TNT film brings new respect to legendary tale of conquest
Written by Vincent F.A. Golphin Photographs by Michael Gauthier
At the turn of the century, U.S. explorers reached toward never-seen parts of the globe. The men conquered many obstacles, but could never slip the grip of their racial prejudices. As a morality play for our times, Turner Network Television’s movie “Glory & Honor,” about the first men to set foot on the North Pole, subtly challenges viewers to consider whether we are any better.
The film which premieres 8 p.m., March 1 on the cable network, even-handedly depicts the ironic paradox of two countrymen, Robert E. Peary, an engineer and U.S. naval officer, and Matthew Henson, an experienced seaman, hired on as Peary’s valet. At the top of the world, they were united in a struggle against nature and the human spirit, yet separated by skin color and morality at home.
Shot on location at the Polar Sea near the Arctic Circle with its blinding blizzards and fifteen-below-zero winds, the film weaves together facts and fictions around the Peary and Henson’s nine bids to reach the Pole. The challenge of their journey will be lost on most audiences today. However, in the century’s first decade the North Pole seemed as far away as the moon.
Director Kevin Hooks known more for intense, big-screen adventures such as “Fled” and “Passenger 57” struts his talent, creating art on the grandest scale. In the end, history is rewritten to reflect Henson’s stature as one of two principal figures in one of the twentieth century’s most controversial feats.
Character is key to the story. In a time when that word is so widely bandied about, the movie forces viewers to reconsider its meaning. Compared with almost everyone in the film, Henson (portrayed with dignity and grace by Delroy Lindo) is the epitome of manly and Christian character. He is the only member of the party to learn the language and culture of the Inuit, commonly called Eskimos. He is accepted into the tribe. He learns native survival techniques and teaches his white companions. Those accomplishments earn him respect from the Inuit in Greenland, but his countrymen, Peary included, see him only “an ignorant colored servant.”
That offers a timely reflection for African Americans.
Despite that, Henson is the film’s hero. The story is told from his viewpoint. His character is more often etched as saint (kind, sensitive and understanding) to Peary the driven sinner. For example, Peary’s wife makes an unscheduled visit to the Arctic camp and walks in on an Inuit woman with whom her husband has fathered a son. No mention is made of the historical fact that Henson, also fathered and left behind a half-Inuit son.
“There is a legacy here that needed to be illuminated and illustrated to inform generations to come about people like Henson,” Hooks said. That’s true. After all, many researchers now admit Henson likely arrived at the North Pole at least 45 minutes before Peary. But at some points the film goes too far.The Henson character’s exaggerated nobility in some part a latter-day attempt to give the long-dead African-American explorer his due. The goal is worthy, except at moments the character on screen strays closely to the stereotype of the noble black innocent, untouched by the white world’s sophisticated machinations. Reality could not be farther from the truth.
Lindo’s preparation included visits with Henson’s descendants, as well as to the archives at the National Geographic Society in Washington, D.C., and the Explorer’s Club in New York. His Henson is strong, dignified and intelligent. The character seems devoted to Peary as a friend, almost too much so, but no less than in real life. Historians say Henson wept like a baby when told of Peary’s death in 1920. At the same time, the film shows he was repulsed by the ego-driven Peary’s shortcomings as a man. In a telling exchange, Henson challenges his boss. “Now I know how God felt when his lumps of clay began to talk,” says Peary. Henson looks curiously at him and says, “You are not God, sir.”
Mastering the right tone of the relationship was not easy. “It was an extremely complex relationship,” said Lindo, most highly praised for his performance as Rodney, the hardened hustler in “Clockers,” Spike Lee’s gritty, urban drama.
The white supremacy in turn-of-the century America, made no sense in the severe Arctic expanse. Henson and Peary functioned as equals as a matter of survival.
“That hierarchy could not exist because the Arctic demanded that man’s ability and character prevail to survive.”
Peary, shown true to history, wanted to be a titan. Yet, Henson, aware of the post-slavery struggles for black American acceptance and the Booker T. Washington philosophy of humble excellence was not naive of the impact of his adventures.
Henson, an orphan from Pomonkey, Maryland, sought and found a family among the Inuit. Their teachings and customs taught him how to live at one with nature and other human beings, giving him a freedom beyond oppression.
In the film, a man at a Harlem reception challenges the relevance of Henson trying to make it to the top of the world. “What has it got to do with life in Harlem?” the man asks.
Henson stifles anger to explain about the sense of freedom and self-respect he found in the uncharted wastes, and finally says, “everything.”
In one of the final scenes, Henson waits for Peary less than twenty miles from the Pole. “I got to where I was supposed to be,” he says. “There’s honor enough in that.”
Henry Czerny plays the obsessed Peary with a menacing dynamism similar to his award-winning portrayal of the evil Brother Peter Lavin in “The Boys of St. Vincent.” The character sacrifices eight toes, friends, colleagues, a marriage and almost sanity to accomplish to reach the Pole. In the end, he gained all he sought.
In 1909, the real Robert Peary returned to the United States as a hero. His claim to be the first to reach the Pole was disputed, but to wear the mantel he shunned his longtime companion. Some researchers say the two barely spoke after leaving the Pole because Peary resented Henson beating him to the mark.
After the adventure, Henson quietly lived out his life in New York City. With the help of prominent blacks and government officials he worked as a clerk in a customs house until he retired in 1937 at age 70. He died in 1955 and was buried in Woodlawn Cemetery in the Bronx. On April 6, 1988, the U.S. government granted him official recognition as the North Pole’s “co-discoverer.” His body was dug up and re-interred next to Peary in Arlington National Cemetery.
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