A list of James Earl Jones’s most indelible film performances can only hope to scratch the surface of a remarkable career. The reason is simple: As beloved as he was for his work on the big screen, that format represents only a fraction of what he achieved. If anything, his legacy is even larger onstage, where he proved himself to be a master of both William Shakespeare and August Wilson. Yes, he will forever be synonymous with Darth Vader, but there is so much more to appreciate, discover, and revisit.
With that said, to commemorate the passing of a giant, we’re highlighting some of his signature film roles — some obvious, some less so. Even if you’ve seen a few of these movies multiple times, what is striking is how present and immediate his performances always are, even when he’s just using his voice. Few actors did more with less — he was best when he was reserved, trusting his extraordinary voice and quiet authority to carry the dramatic weight of any scene. As a result, he exuded remarkable levels of gravitas, dignity, and, when the part required it, a moral seriousness that was heroic.
We’ve listed his performances in chronological order. And we’ll note that the process of discovery continues for us as well: We’re sorry not to have been able to include The Annihilation of Fish, Killer of Sheep, filmmaker Charles Burnett’s hard-to-find 1999 romantic comedy that was restored and released this year. In the wake of Jones’s death, it is somewhat comforting to know that there are still potentially great movies of his to see.
Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb (1964)
The story goes that Stanley Kubrick went to see George C. Scott, who was doing The Merchant of Venice with Shakespeare in the Park in New York, because he wanted to cast the actor in his nuclear-war satire. As luck would have it, Jones was also part of the production, catching the director’s eye. Soon, Jones was in his first film as part of the B-52 bomber crew that will accidentally destroy the world. His role as Zogg isn’t especially meaty, but he nails Dr. Strangelove’s bone-dry comedic approach, delivering every line straightforwardly, utterly unaware of the insanity happening elsewhere. In just a few scenes, Jones’s formidable onscreen presence is already evident. Clearly, he had bigger things in store.
The Great White Hope (1970)
Jones had been an accomplished and decorated Broadway actor for years, most notably for his Shakespearean work, but his breakthrough role was as boxer Jack Jefferson — clearly based on real-life fighter Jack Johnson — in Howard Sackler’s Pulitzer Prize–winning play. Jones won a Tony and a Drama Desk Award for the performance, and it loses nothing in the Martin Ritt–directed film version. Jones is hypnotic as the boxer the white Establishment attempts to take down, with an otherworldly charisma so powerful that Muhammad Ali told him, after seeing the film, “this is me.†It was Jones’s first starring movie role, but he ultimately ran from that sort of leading man pigeonhole, focusing on more Broadway roles and character parts. It is remarkable how physical he is; you can see why he was considered a potential matinee idol, and why he rejected all of it.
Claudine (1974)
Amid the many tributes to Jones’s acting, one superlative didn’t necessarily come up a lot: sexy. But this bittersweet love story demonstrated his enormous sex appeal, which didn’t get utilized much in his film career. Diahann Carroll plays Claudine, a single mother raising six kids in Harlem, who falls in love with Jones’s garbage man. Filmed at a time when blaxploitation cinema was starting to help elevate Black actors and artists, Claudine was something different: a vivid, realistic story about everyday characters dealing with poverty and racism. As Roop, Jones gives a lived-in performance that’s deeply charming, even though his character has his share of flaws. Carroll received an Oscar nomination, but it’s the rapport between the two leads that really makes Claudine a stand-out. We should all be grateful for the career Jones had, but one wonders how things might have been different if he’d been given more rich, down-to-earth roles like this.
The Bingo Long Traveling All-Stars and Motor Kings (1976)
This raucous, crowd-pleasing comedy is still an absolute blast today. It tells the story of a baseball team that leaves the Negro Leagues and becomes a barnstorming All-Star team, led by an ace pitcher (Billy Dee Williams), a player so desperate to play in the majors that he pretends to be alternately Cuban and Navajo (a great Richard Pryor) and a slugging catcher based on Negro Leagues legend Josh Gibson (Jones). The movie is so eager to entertain that it sometimes glides over the obvious pain and injustice these players went through, but every time you see Jones, he lets you witness the rage and hurt simmering underneath. He’s the heart and soul of the film, and one of the primary reasons it’s quietly one of the best baseball movies ever made.
Star Wars (1977), The Empire Strikes Back (1980), Return of the Jedi (1983)
 Jones wasn’t in the costume — that was David Prowse, who died in 2020 at the age of 85. But he was the voice, bringing arguably cinema’s greatest villain of the last half-century to life. Darth Vader is terrifying because of that black mask, that robotic breathing, and his imposing frame, but it was Jones who understood how to embody evil simply through intonation and suggestion. Think of Vader’s best lines — and now think of how Jones delivers them. For as much as George Lucas’s dialogue has been mocked, nobody really goofs on Vader — with one notable exception — because Jones always brought a panache, a bit of wit and class, to the performance. Vader isn’t just Star Wars’s greatest bad guy, he’s also the franchise’s coolest character. And when the villain dropped his bombshell in The Empire Strikes Back — “No, I am your father†— there’s even a dash of vulnerability and tenderness that made the revelation all the more shocking. In the original trilogy, Jones figured out how to make Darth Vader both monochromatically monstrous and also complex, even tragic. Not bad for the greatest voice performance in movie history.
Matewan (1987)
John Sayles hasn’t made a movie in 11 years, but for several decades he was sort of an American Mike Leigh: A liberal filmmaker telling political stories that illustrated the human cost of unchecked capitalism — and the battles fought for regular people. This story of a coal miners’ strike is one of his better films, with union organizers combining Italian and Black laborers in West Virginia to wage an ultimate bloody war against their exploitative bosses. Jones is the head of the Black laborers, and it’s a perfect role for showcasing his ability to be both regal and compellingly human: Variety said he “glowed in the dark†onscreen, and that’s exactly right. You can never take your eyes off him.
Coming to America (1988)
Obviously, Jones played iconic fathers in some beloved blockbusters, but this one is probably not quite as well remembered as Darth Vader or Mufasa. In Coming to America, he’s King Jaffe Joffer, the wise leader of the fictional African nation of Zamunda, who has to figure out what to do with his spoiled son Akeem (Eddie Murphy). After Akeem resists his arranged marriage in order to visit America, where he hopes to find his true soulmate, the king goes chasing after him. Because Jones was rightly praised for his dramatic roles (how could he not be with that voice?), his comedic chops are a little underappreciated. But Coming to America found him getting laughs as the straight man — his no-nonsense ruler is funny simply by walking into a room, often befuddled by his kid or the weirdness of America. The man could do a lot with just a flash of those animated eyes.
Field of Dreams (1989)
Greatest baseball movie or sappiest baseball movie? Or maybe a bit of both? The debate around Field of Dreams rages on, but no matter where you land, it is very hard not to love Jones as Terence Mann, a J.D. Salinger–like author who has been out of the public eye for years when Kevin Costner’s man-on-a-mission Ray comes to find him. Jones didn’t grow up loving baseball, but Mann’s passion for the game — which is reawakened over the course of the film’s epic odyssey — has been central to fans’ misty-eyed devotion to the sport ever since. After all, it’s Jones’s monologue about baseball’s enduring connection with America — “It reminds us of all that once was good, and it could be again†— that, for many of us, crystalizes why we’re so shamelessly sentimental about the national pastime.
The Lion King (1994)
This December’s Mufasa: The Lion King had to contend with high expectations even before Jones’s passing. But now it will be impossible not to think of the late actor as the film tries to tell the origin story of his virtuous leader from the 1994 original. About that film: It is hard to explain to those who weren’t there just how much of a phenomenon The Lion King was, fully returning Disney to the top of the animation food chain. Its mythic story and catchy tunes were central to the appeal, but you can’t deny the power of hearing Jones’s voice coming out of the mouth of that mighty lion — a noble king whose murder by his evil brother is, for a generation, as traumatizing as the death of Bambi’s mom. If Darth Vader allowed Jones to evoke pure darkness, Mufasa permitted the actor to convey endless wisdom, warmth, and light.
Grierson & Leitch write regularly about the movies and host a podcast on film. Follow them on Twitter or visit their site.