Mike Colter and the Beautiful “No”
The Hollywood Race, Part V
In The Hollywood Race, Shannon Houston examines the dynamics of race and culture as they play out in film, television, music and pop culture.
Even die-hard fans of The Good Wife might be surprised to read this, but the CBS drama is, among many other things, one of the most important shows for people of color right now. Last season I saw some strange and fascinating things going on, including racial subtext that was never at the center of the plot, but always made for an exciting peripheral.
And this season I see it becoming more prevalent, especially now that we’re seeing more of Mike Colter’s character, Lemond Bishop. Bishop is client of Alicia Florrick (Julianna Margulies), and although he is a drug kingpin, his story is a bit more complicated than that. Not complicated in the way one might expect (where he’s really a good guy, just trying to provide for his family; a product of his environment, etc.), but complicated in that—like many of the characters on The Good Wife—we haven’t quite figured him out yet. Whether he’s politely threatening Kalinda Sharma (Archia Panjabi), or screaming at his son’s soccer game, Bishop is a little odd—and “odd” is incredibly hard to come by for black characters on television.
Colter is in no way new to my recent revelations about the series, now in its sixth season. He saw very early on that his role on The Good Wife would not rely on the clichés he’d been avoiding for his whole career. In fact, he avoided these clichés so much, that a man of lesser faith and resolve might not have had a career at all. After a key role in, arguably, the most important and critically-acclaimed film of 2004, Clint Eastwood’s Million Dollar Baby, Colter (who played boxer Big Willie Little) had Hollywood banging down his door—but for all of the roles that he didn’t want. As an actor, it’s difficult to turn down role after role. As an actor of color, it’s basically a request for early retirement.
“The easy thing for me, after Million Dollar Baby, happened to be the athletic market—to try to play more athletes or more boxers,” Colter explains. “My agent at the time wanted me to go for Rocky Balboa. I love Stallone, I’m a big Stallone fan, but I just did not want to play another boxer, or another athlete. I was adamant about it, and my agent was a little annoyed with me.” Needless to say, Colter has since gotten a new agent. But he admits it must have been frustrating to see all of these opportunities, and to have a client who simply kept saying “no,” to lucrative work—and to the money that would have come along with.
“I just kept telling [my agent at the time] I could do more than that. I’m good with language, I’m more of a thinker. I can do other things.”
Colter says that he “didn’t know how to ‘cash in’ on the newfound potential,” but I believe he did know how to do it; he chose a different route instead. And part of this choice required that he think of himself as an actor, rather than a black actor with limited options.
“I did not want to look at myself as an actor of color,” he explains. “I felt that was limiting. You walk into a casting office, and, ultimately, they see what they see. But if you see yourself in a certain way, or with a certain potential, eventually other people will see that potential too, if you’re able to demonstrate it.”