Bill Cobbs put in the time and work. He died on June 25 at the age of 90 at his home in Riverside, California, leaving behind a career of more than 200 films and numerous theater appearances. Born Wilbert Francisco Cobbs in Cleveland, Ohio, around 1934, at a time when a black man was not always assured of his dignity and especially not his rights, Cobbs came into the world and grew up at a time when it wasn’t really possible to see yourself on the big screen. Of course, there were exceptions with the stereotypes embodied by Stepin Fetchit as well as the greatness of Paul Robeson, but the idea of becoming an actor was not automatic for Cobbs. He dabbled in music, spent eight years in the US Air Force as a radar technician and occasional stand-up comedian, sold cars, even worked at IBM, but at one point the gaming bug The actor settled in and didn’t let go.
At age 36, Cobbs moved to New York, where he worked a series of odd jobs and odd jobs, while devoting himself primarily to his acting career. He performed in a variety of capacities, from working the streets to appearing on stage at the Eugene O’Neill Theater. When he turned to film, his career was marked by a number of anonymous roles. The man on the platform in “The Robbery of Subway 123” (1974). The man in the cafeteria in “Silkwood” (1983). While these background roles did not showcase the full range of abilities of this tall, charismatic actor, one thing was certain: Cobbs was the man for the job.
Never a young man on screen, the older Cobbs got—his voice became more defined and his eyes deeper—the more casting directors and filmmakers seemed to count on him. He never stopped being a presence, but that presence only grew larger, more meaningful to the films he imbued and the audiences he mesmerized. And they weren’t alone. After his passing, colleagues across the decades shared an outpouring of love and memories of their experiences working with this beloved member of their community.
As a tribute to his work and his memory, IndieWire lists some of our favorite Cobbs performances below.
“New Jack City” (dir. Mario Van Peebles, 1991)
Although simply named “Old Man” in the film, Cobbs clearly and fiercely presents himself as the religious and moral center of a community ravaged from within by crime, drugs and the influence of Nino Brown (Wesley Snipes). . As with most of his roles, Cobbs’ time on screen is brief, but the impact of his presence is clear in the film’s final moments, as his character delivers justice undelivered by the legal system.
“That thing you do!” » (dir. Tom Hanks, 1996)
If you were an artist at the end of your rope, you would want Bill Cobbs to give you advice. The feeling that he had such an experience is so present in every fiber of his being that you can’t help but believe his words. Although the fact that he doesn’t do much in “That Thing You Do!” ” is a criticism of the film, but that it inspires the white drummer of a pop group, its inclusion in the story is essential to its message of remembering the joy that can be found in the simple fact to play. As jazz pianist Del Paxton, Cobbs also embodies a musical dream he himself left behind, providing a realism to the world that grounds the character he comes into contact with, as well as the audience.
“Air Bud” (directed by Charles Martin Smith, 1997)
Arguably the reason this ’90s gem with a ridiculous storyline actually succeeds is Cobb’s performance as Coach Chaney, a professional basketball player turned elementary school maintenance engineer who is given a second chance to be part of the game that he loves and which, according to him, should also be the case for dogs. Yes, it’s a children’s film, it’s meant to be ridiculous and fantastical, but the seriousness with which Cobbs asserts his faith in the dog at the center of the film, as well as in the children he trains, makes it a classic that deserves to be applauded and his famous line, “You check your rule book, but you won’t find anything there that says a dog can’t play”, has gone down in meme-ified history.
“The West Wing” (Season 3, Episode 18, “Enemies Foreign and Domestic”)
What begins as a simple letter to the president turns into a poignant history lesson for the president’s personal assistant Charlie Young (Dulé Hill). At the beginning of the episode, Charlie receives a letter from a little boy, written to the president, but he is baffled by some of the expressions in it. It refers to characters that Charlie does not know and to organizations that no longer exist. Eventually, Charlie realizes that the letter is from the 1930s, that it was written to FDR, and that it had not been delivered until now. Moved by the circumstances, Charlie invites the boy, now an old man played by Cobbs, to meet the current president, thus ending the letter he wrote so long ago. In the episode, Cobbs carries with him only one significant story scene, adding richness to what is one of the series’ most memorable endings.
“The Sopranos” (Season 2, Episode 2, “Do Not Resuscitate”)
It would have been easy for the Sopranos writers to place Tony, played by James Gandolfini, in a room with a black reverend and make something offensive out of it, but instead Tony’s interaction with the reverend James Sr., played by Cobb, reminds us that the character, perhaps more than anything else, cares about his origins and the people who helped shape the country he loves and wishes to enjoy. In a rare instance, Cobbs also ends up making Gandolfini appear smaller, which puts our perspective on Tony and his place in this world in a new light.