Carl Lumbly is crying. It is a surprising, moving moment, since the Minneapolis native is known for playing unflappable characters -- the clean-cut cop on "Cagney & Lacey," the loyal sidekick on "Alias," the proud father on the new TV remake of "Sounder," which premieres Sunday on ABC's "Wonderful World of Disney."

But Lumbly is talking about his father, Carrol, a hard-working welder who never wanted his son to be an actor, who didn't allow him to go to movies until he was 16, who told him that if he wanted to be in theater, he might as well put on whiteface, buy a pair of tap shoes and hit the road.

He saw his son in only one play, the 1983 Guthrie production of "Gospel at Colonus." When it was over, Lumbly came out to see his father, who was in a wheelchair after having had a stroke.

"He told me he thought I was a good man," says Lumbly, tears welling up in his eyes. Carrol Lumbly died two months later. But his memory resonates in every one of his son's performances.

That is why Lumbly has avoided playing crack addicts, drug dealers, angry men with a shtick on their shoulders. He has focused on humble heroes, even if it's kept him on Hollywood's B list.

"He's one of the most underrated actors out there, has been for a long time," said "Sounder" director Kevin Hooks. "He's the epitome of sensitivity and compassion as an artist, and it spills over into the characters he's playing."

Victor Garber praised his "Alias" co-star for the calm and patience he brings to his roles.

"He's a god," Garber said.

"Alias" creator J.J. Abrams said he cast Lumbly because he knew the actor would give the character a sense of honor in a show that easily could veer into camp. But while Lumbly is getting more to do on the series this season, Abrams admits that the actor has been underused.

That's something Lumbly is used to hearing, but to hear him tell it, there was no other way.

He is dressed in jeans, black shirt and a Chicago Bulls cap -- his next stop is a pickup basketball game -- talking about his acting choices over the past 20 years. But it's just as much the story of his father.

Appropriately enough, sophisticated big-band music is playing over the speakers in the Los Angeles restaurant where Lumbly talks for two hours over several cups of coffee.

He tells how his parents came to the Twin Cities from Jamaica under the sponsorship of Cedric Adams, the WCCO Radio personality and Minneapolis Star columnist who befriended Lumbly's father during a Caribbean vacation. It was not a natural move. His mother rarely left the house and his father never really assimilated to America.

"Once you stepped in the door, you were in Jamaica," he says.

An accidental actor

Lumbly, born in Minneapolis in 1952, was a quiet child, although he couldn't resist poking fun at his dad at the dinner table, mimicking the way the old man would meticulously organize his cup and saucer at teatime.

Lumbly would do the same with his milk, cracking up his younger sister, Amy Powell, who went on to be a reporter for KARE-TV, Channel 11, and the E! cable network.

Of course, he didn't dare to do it when his father was looking. Disrespect was not an option in the Lumbly household. Neither was acting.

Still, he managed to see a couple of plays while attending South High School in Minneapolis, and even performed in some at Macalester College. But he didn't really consider an acting career.

When he went to auditions at Dudley Riggs' Brave New Workshop, it was as a freelance reporter doing a story. He was asked to try out, and found himself selected to join the improv ensemble.

Even when he was on stage, his father would be on his mind. He recalls a scene in which he and another performer appeared to be having a conversation on a bus, holding imaginary straps above their heads. Lumbly's punch line: "I'm hoping next time I can ride inside."

Instantly, he feared what his father might think: "Dad would freak if he knew I was making light of something so serious."

His acting career continued in the same accidental fashion. He followed a girlfriend to San Francisco and planned on doing some freelance reporting for the Associated Press, but popped in at an audition looking for two black actors for the South African political plays, "Sizwe Bansi Is Dead" and "The Island."

He got one of the parts. The other lucky actor: Danny Glover.

From there, Lumbly honed his craft on stage, primarily in San Francisco, New York and Minneapolis. (He returned to his hometown last summer to join in a tribute to Penumbra Theatre founder Lou Bellamy.)

But his biggest success came in television. He starred as TV's first black superhero in 1994's "M.A.N.T.I.S.," played a conflicted mayor in 1996's critically acclaimed series "EZ Streets" and currently provides the voice of J'Or J'Orzz, the last living Martian, in the animated "Justice League."

Although his father missed most of his success, his mother, Ida, still lives in the Twin Cities, and can still be a critic. He remembers her shock when he appeared on "L.A. Law" as a Russian professor who has an affair with his assistant.

"A lot of what has guided me in the past is the history of black men in this industry and the history of black men in this country," he says. "There's also the personal history with my father."

Fathers and sons

One also senses that Lumbly is almost afraid to let go. He is too good an actor not to be able to display rage. Turning it off might be more difficult.

During his freshman year in college, his beloved father accused him of lying when Lumbly got home late and said he had been at the library. Lumbly said he was so upset that he couldn't speak for 24 hours. He immediately moved out of the house and the men were estranged for years.

There is a seething resentment toward Los Angeles cops who have stopped him when he's been jogging or driving ("I stopped counting after 14"), simply because of the color of his skin.

The irony, of course, is that Lumbly has played an awful lot of nice, honorable law enforcers.

From a career standpoint, that remains a problem.

"I'm told I'm uptight, I'm too priggish as an actor in the choices I'm willing to take," he said. "I had to style myself as an actor because I didn't know if I was a strong enough character to resist some of the roles I knew I didn't want my mom or dad to see. I worked so hard at that, I feel like I did it too well."

At 50, he may be looking to stretch out of his comfort zone. He hired a manager last year for the first time. He hopes to do more feature films. (He played Cuba Gooding Jr.'s father in "Men of Honor.") And, yes, maybe he will play shadier characters as time goes on.

He is learning to be flexible as a father, as well. While he still insists he's stricter than most, he talks things through with his 14-year-son. Recently, they argued over the merits of a violent video game. The teenager won.

While it's clear that Lumbly still has concerns about the game, pride is also apparent as he recounts how his boy used logic to persuade his old man.

In the end, it is about fathers and sons, as it will be in Lumbly's next challenge. He plans to run in the Los Angeles Marathon in March. But he wants to make sure he's in top physical shape. He's scared what might happen if he isn't.

"If I start it, I'm going to finish it, which means I may hurt myself," he says. "I know what to do when things get hard. You work."

That is the father talking. The son wouldn't have it any other way.

© Minneapolis Star Tribune 2003

Back To All About Alias 2003