James Earl Jones’ booming basso profundo may be the entertainment industry’s all-time most iconic voice. And yet, when I think of him, it is always his high-pitched squawking of “JIMMY CHOO!” that rings loudly in my ear.
Jones died Monday at age 93. His career bursts with towering performances and line deliveries that have become part of our cultural DNA.
He’s performed Shakespeare and August Wilson on stage. Take your pick as to whether his performance of Field of Dreams’ “If you build it, he will come,” Darth Vader’s “I am your father,” or Mufasa’s “Everything the light touches is our kingdom” in The Lion King is the more indelible quote. And if you’re a millennial of a certain age, that the guy who played Mr. Mertle in The Sandlot is this monumental legend was a foundational realization in your young life.
As his voice became increasingly renowned as his signature, Jones had a great sense of humor about it. “I’ve done a King Lear, too! Do the kids know that? No, they have the Darth Vader poster to sign. But it’s OK,” he once told Broadway.com. It’s that playful perspective that he had on his legacy and reputation that’s always made his guest spot in a 2003 episode of Will & Grace one of my favorite performances of his.
In the Season 6 episode “Me & Mr. Jones,” written by Gary Janetti, perennially struggling actor Jack (Sean Hayes) is cast in a production of The Iceman Cometh opposite Jones, who is playing himself. Though Jack only has one line, the play’s director is smitten with his unusual delivery, praising his work over Jones’ and causing the celebrated stage actor to spiral and doubt his abilities.
At Karen’s (Megan Mullally) behest, Jones audits one of Jack’s acting classes. (The running joke in the series is that it’s preposterous that an actor as terrible as Jack would teach a legitimate class; his students are all aspiring commercial actors and chiseled male models whose shirts Jack somehow gets them take off each session.)
Jones makes good-natured fun at both his famous voice and his successful career in the episode. Take this clip, where he pleads for some respect from Karen because he played Mufasa. “More like Boo-fasa,” Karen quips.
But the gem of the episode is when Jones willingly lets Jack coach him in class, and Jack strips him of every quality that generations have lauded. “Let’s start with the voice,” Jack says. “It’s fine for a lesbian, but you’re a man.”
He convinces Jones to shriek in a nasally head voice. Jones struggles to mimic Jack’s prompts in the new, uncomfortable piercing octave. “Lady!” he attempts to squeal. And then, as I erupt into a giggle fit each time I watch, an increasingly shrill delivery of “Jimmy Choo!”
The latter comes after Jones miffs, at least by Jack’s standards, a reading of a scene from Sex and the City in which he mimes strutting through Manhattan carrying a purse as Carrie Bradshaw.
It is utter ridiculousness, and it is hysterical. James is so game to lampoon himself, and in doing so, elevates his unmistakable thunderclap of a voice to even more mythical status.
The clips I posted are pretty poor quality, and may be taken down. So if you want to have a good time in Jones’ memory, seek out the episode—Season 6, Episode 4, on Hulu. I promise you, you’ll never think of a pair of designer shoes the same way again.