MOVIES : Writing a New A-List : Hollywood is finally finding room for black actors in prime film roles. But the good news sometimes carries a subtle downside.

“I have an announcement to make,” says Jeff Goldblum, his voice echoing across a movie set standing in for a Las Vegas hotel suite crowded with party-goers. “Fred, it’s all over!”

“Over? You must be crazy,” replies “Fred” (Samuel L. Jackson, colorfully decked out in flowing purple robes and a faux turban). “What’s over?”

The film the actors are making, a boxing satire called “The Great White Hype,” has only a day of shooting to go on the 20th Century Fox lot before principal photography is wrapped. Whether “Fred’s” career is really over will be revealed next summer when this Reginald Hudlin-directed comedy is released. But there’s no question that things are far from finished for its star. With his intense, precise style, Jackson has become one of the busiest actors in the business, shooting four features last year alone; two of them--”Pulp Fiction” (for which he was nominated for a best supporting actor Oscar) and “Die Hard With a Vengeance”--were box-office blockbusters.

During a break in the afternoon’s “Hype” shooting, Jackson confers with an assistant about his next film, “A Time to Kill,” the latest screen adaptation of a John Grisham bestseller, set to start shooting the minute “Hype” ends. Still, the 47-year-old actor doesn’t seem harried by his schedule. While the camera crew sets up a new angle, Jackson retires to a less-crowded part of the ersatz suite, props his feet on a desk and happily contemplates his newfound career options.

“People in the industry tend to think of me differently now,” Jackson says, “but amazingly enough, it has very little to do with my abilities as an actor. Some of them hire me because they want to bring a certain ‘quality’ to their film--the same way they hire Morgan Freeman. Plus I’ve got an international market profile now [especially from “Jurassic Park” and “Die Hard”]. So does Morgan, and so does Forest Whitaker.”

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Jackson isn’t alone in gaining access to this new global arena. Along with Freeman, Whitaker, Denzel Washington, Laurence Fishburne and Wesley Snipes, he is part of a growing group of African American men on Hollywood’s short list for the pick of prime movie roles.

How and why this has happened is a question to which there is no simple answer. Thirty years after the end of segregation, black and white Americans continue to inhabit separate, highly circumscribed social spheres--a condition underscored by the tumultuous reaction to the O.J. Simpson verdict and the sociopolitical ascendance of Louis Farrakhan.

Hollywood has reflected white America’s racial unease throughout its history. When Sidney Poitier broke through to become the No. 1 box-office star in the mid-1960s, he did so alone. The crop of performers that burst on the scene in the blaxploitation thrillers of the 1970s faded into the background when that sub-genre ran its course. In the 1980s, the rise to superstardom by comedians Richard Pryor and Eddie Murphy was unaccompanied by any alteration in the hiring status quo. But as the ‘90s progress, things would appear to be changing, with more African American talents looking to the prospect of long, lucrative motion picture careers.

Nevertheless, some observers argue, there’s a subtle downside to what seems to be good news.

In an article in the September issue of Harper’s magazine, social critic Benjamin DeMott notes the great number of recent films (“Pulp Fiction” and “Die Hard With a Vengeance” among them) in which “whites and blacks greet one another on the screen with loving candor, revealing their common humanity.” In DeMott’s view, this is nothing to cheer about, as “the good news at the movies obscures the bad news in the streets,” where racial hostility continues unabated.

Jackson is well aware of the power of movie images to shape public consciousness. But in his view, Hollywood’s “happy face” spin takes a back seat to the negative perceptions that have long been promulgated in the culture overall.

“There’s a tacit acknowledgment now that ‘Well, they just might be normal after all,’ ” the actor says sardonically. “And as such perceptions grow there are certain of us they will allow to convey these images in films. Look at Denzel [Washington]. He’s commonly depicted as a nice, normal kind of guy, and the average white family--if their daughter brought him home--would say, ‘Fine.’ But if they brought me or Fish [Laurence Fishburne] home, there’s an edge to us that would make ‘em say, ‘Well, I don’t know.’ And they definitely don’t want to see Wesley [Snipes] coming up the walk!

“I’d like them to stop showing us as the culprits or victims of our own machinations,” says Jackson, his normally jovial tone turning dour. “I’d like to see some owning up to the fact that sometimes the playing field is not level, and depicting that in a way that white people will understand.”

Seconds later, Jackson is called back to the set. “What do you mean, ‘Over’?” he booms at Goldblum.

Forest Whitaker knows that Hollywood is less interested in process than it is in the bottom line.

“They perceive me as someone who gives a degree of credibility to a project,” says Whitaker, who is in post-production on “Waiting to Exhale,” the film version of Terry McMillan’s best-selling novel about four middle-class black women (set for release Dec. 22), which stars Angela Bassett and Whitney Houston. Whitaker, however, has no on-screen role in the film--he’s the director.

“Exhale” isn’t the first time the 34-year-old actor has stepped behind the camera (he co-produced the 1991 action comedy “A Rage in Harlem” and directed the 1993 detective thriller “Strapped” for HBO). But it clearly marks a turning point in a career whose highlights include “Bird” and “The Crying Game.” His willingness to work both sides of the movie-making street, as shown by his recent appearances in the low-budget “Smoke” and the mass-market sci-fi thriller “Species,” has won him audience attention and industry respect.

“Luckily, I’ve never been put in the position of playing a particular kind of character,” Whitaker says. “The guy I played in ‘The Color of Money’ was originally written as a white yuppie. With ‘Good Morning Vietnam,’ [the character] started out as a nerdy Jewish guy. I can play a character where there’s no reference to race, like ‘The Crying Game.’ ”

“Nothing bothers me more than seeing a film set in New York where people are walking down the street and not one of them is a person of color,” Whitaker says. “We’ve got to see people in all walks of life up on the screen, if only to find the connections we have with each other. It’s a difficult time, race-wise, emotionally and psychologically, for people.”

He pauses, then continues speaking with an undertone of sadness: “As a result, many people are acting violent or turning apathetic. . . . This society is one big dysfunctional family, with the parents--those who are more financially in charge--beating up on the children--those who aren’t financially in charge. They, in turn, beat up on themselves and others. All the minority races are in the position of this abused child.”

Morgan Freeman would probably take exception to Whitaker’s words.

“We’re a lot less ignorant than we used to be,” the 57-year-old actor says. “Koreans are third-class citizens in Japan. Just about anyone who isn’t German has trouble in Germany. And the same thing is starting to happen in France. When it comes to race, we’re not behind anybody. We’re ahead of most of them.”

Freeman has no qualms about taking stock of his years of struggle before breaking through to starring roles in “Unforgiven” and this fall’s huge hit “Seven.”

“I started in 1959 when I got out of the Air Force,” he recalls. “The fight to get work was all-consuming back then. I thought that if I could make a living acting and not have to wait tables or do office temp, then I was wildly successful.”

Freeman credits his appearance in the 1989 Oscar winner “Driving Miss Daisy,” on the heels of the 1987 release of the low-budget thriller “Street Smart,” with jump-starting his career.

“Is Morgan Freeman the finest actor in America?” Pauline Kael asked rhetorically in the opening line of her New Yorker magazine review of the earlier film, in which he brought the cliched role of an urban pimp to vivid life. It won him the first of three Oscar nominations.

“I think initially people thought I was someone they found in the street,” Freeman remarks dryly. But while others before him were often trapped into playing a series of similar roles, Freeman was able to win a variety of parts after “Street Smart.” He sees his good fortune as reflecting an overall cultural shift.

“I credit television,” the actor says. “The nighttime soaps in particular have shown that there’s a wide audience for multiracial productions. These shows show that we all live pretty much the same way. I think that tends to decrease biases.”

Toward that end, Freeman has bought the film rights to Ann Patchett’s book “Taft,” a work that he says “calls for a very interracial cast and deals with very ‘today’ types of situations.”

And part of what Freeman calls “today” is a break with accepted ideas about race.

“Don’t say ‘African American,’ ” he says firmly. “I’m not in favor of that term. I’m not an African. I think the Irish, the Italians, the Koreans and other hyphenated Americans can call themselves that because they’re not mixed with anything else. To me ‘African Americans’ are [immigrants] from Nigeria or Zimbabwe or the Cameroon or wherever who come here and then have been Americanized. I don’t think that black Americans who were born here should use a hyphen.”

Freeman is convinced that the industry can change. “Contrary to popular belief,” he says, “Hollywood is not necessarily race-conscious. It’s money-conscious.”

‘Hollywood’s changed?” Yaphet Kotto exclaims, quickly breaking into a deeply sarcastic chuckle. “What’s changed? You tell me. Yeah, there are new actors coming along, but the positioning of their roles is exactly the same as Sidney Poitier and Tony Curtis in ‘The Defiant Ones’ back in ’58. How many times can we remake that picture? How many times are we going to see a white guy and black guy running across the screen insulting each other? If you saw Samuel L. Jackson and Bruce Willis in ‘Die Hard,’ you saw Danny Glover and Mel Gibson in ‘Lethal Weapon.’ And if you saw ‘Lethal Weapon,’ you saw me and Michael Moriarty in ‘Report to the Commissioner.’ Hell, I’ve played half a dozen of those parts myself!”

Kotto, 58, has done a lot more than that in his long career. Beginning in the 1964 independent film “Nothing but a Man,” he quickly moved to character roles in big-budget features like “The Thomas Crown Affair.” The blaxploitation period brought him larger parts in the likes of “Across 110th Street.” His best parts, however, were in films like “Blue Collar” and “Alien,” in which he played everyday working stiffs.

Calling from the East Coast, where he is in production on the series “Homicide,” the actor is happy to report that he has just finished shooting “Two If by Sea” with Sandra Bullock--a rare opportunity to try his hand at sophisticated comedy. It’s a change of pace he’d like to see Hollywood offer more blacks.

As a performer who has managed to hang on even in the lean times preceding the current black boom, Kotto is attuned to the traps of casting.

“I remember right after ‘Report to the Commissioner’ seeing calls for a ‘Yaphet Kotto type’ on three or four different movies. I said to myself ‘S---, I’m in trouble.’ ”

But he believes he has escaped that--possibly once and for all--with his role as Detective Giordello on “Homicide.”

“Thank God for Barry Levinson,” Kotto says, referring to the show’s executive producer. “He approached me and said, ‘We want you to play this guy who’s half-Italian and half-black.’ I get to speak Italian dialect every week on the show. You would never find a character like that in a million years in the movies.”

Kotto is more than happy, however, to salute those who have managed to make some changes on the big screen. And he is particularly thrilled with the low-key success of Ernie Hudson, who in “Congo” has the leading role of a Britain-born explorer leading an expedition into the African jungle.

“Man, that was so incredible,” Kotto says. “Ernie’s character is one of the most original things I’ve ever seen. What a performance. You’re going to be talking to him? Tell him I said it was ‘top-shelf.’ ”

‘Yaphet said that?” Ernie Hudson asks. “Oh, I really like Yaphet. Coming from him that’s quite a compliment. Man, this is such a strange business.”

Hudson knows just how strange it can be. Now 49, the journeyman actor, whose career began in 1969, first won wide attention in the “Ghostbusters” films. He has also appeared in “The Hand That Rocks the Cradle” and “The Crow.” But it’s the surprise summer hit “Congo” that has finally forced Hollywood to sit up and take notice.

“I fell in love with the character,” says Hudson, speaking from his Los Angeles home before leaving to shoot his next film, “The Substitute.” “He wasn’t urban and slick and hip. In the book, of course, he’s white and has a British accent. The job that I had to do was convince everybody that we should keep the character as written--with the accent.”

“I remember going up for a role in an Eddie Murphy movie once,” Hudson recalls. “They said, ‘Well, you’re too much like Eddie Murphy.’ Now, how am I like Eddie Murphy? I remember when I first came to Hollywood, you were always expected to be ‘angry’ or ‘upset’ about something. They would have my character do things that made no sense at all, and when I’d ask why, they would say, ‘He’s upset.’ I’d ask why, and they would say, ‘Because he’s black.’ I’d tell them, ‘Well, I’m black and I’m not upset.’ Talking about this, I’m getting upset.”

Martin Lawrence is finishing post-production on his new comedy “A Thin Line Between Love and Hate,” which he also directs, while continuing his successful sitcom “Martin.” His is the name that first springs to the industry’s lips when speaking of a successor to Richard Pryor and Eddie Murphy. When his first feature, the comedy-cop-thriller “Bad Boys,” became a runaway hit, the talk grew even louder.

“I don’t know what to say about that,” says Lawrence, his pliant face rapidly shifting expressions ranging from pride to embarrassment to unease. “Look, if it wasn’t for Richard Pryor I couldn’t be sitting here in this position. And Eddie Murphy. Everybody says he hasn’t had a hit movie for a while. To me, he’s still a big hit just by his accomplishments.”

It has taken the 29-year-old comedian less than 10 years to get where he is today.

“I was just a young kid coming into his own and trying to understand the business,” he says, recalling his supporting role in Spike Lee’s “Do the Right Thing,” a part that, coupled with the success of his stand-up comedy appearances, led to “Martin.” Its mixture of vaudeville-style low comedy with modern attitude and up-to-the-minute black slang has won it a wide audience. Popular, too, are his stand-up appearances, in which he lets loose with expletives that delight his fans as much as they enrage the uninitiated.

Lawrence brushes off objections to his linguistic raunch: “I know I’m communicating to an audience. Outside of that it really don’t matter.”

‘Hollywood isn’t a monolith that never shifts,” says Harry Belafonte. “There’s a whole upheaval that’s going on, and the changing role blacks have is part of that upheaval.”

The 68-year-old actor, singer and civil rights activist has been witness to every shift the industry has undergone since his film career began with “Bright Road” (1953) and “Carmen Jones” (1954). Belafonte went on to work only intermittently during that decade, his most notable part being in the 1959 thriller “Odds Against Tomorrow.” The consensus was that his good looks, and the sexual attraction associated with it, were too much for Eisenhower-era America to bear.

In the 1970s Belafonte returned, starring in and co-producing “The Angel Levine” and “Buck and the Preacher” and doing a memorable parody of Marlon Brando’s “Godfather” in the ensemble-cast comedy “Uptown Saturday Night.”

This fall Belafonte co-stars with John Travolta in “White Man’s Burden,” a political fantasy about what life would be like if the power polarities of race were turned upside down. Then comes Robert Altman’s “Kansas City,” which will deal in part with African American life in that city in the 1930s in what Belafonte says will be “a way it hasn’t been seen before in the movies.”

Speaking from his office in New York, Belafonte seems to have few regrets at the way things have turned out for him personally. But his success hasn’t stopped him from criticizing either the entertainment industry or the culture of which it is a part.

“Had I not had another career as a singer to fall back on and been forced to look exclusively to Hollywood, I might very well have stayed the course, bit the bullet and made pictures that I dislike. When I see Anthony Hopkins in ‘Remains of the Day’ or ‘Shadowlands’ and he goes right into the heart of a culture and a time in England, I’m enormously pleased and moved and touched. . . . You very rarely see black movies that move into such dimensions. It’s all violence, urban, cocaine, the ‘hood.”

Belafonte is cheered that independent films, like the two he has just completed, can be made without kowtowing to the usual industry demands. But such difficulties, he says, are nothing compared to societal problems in general.

“I’ve never seen white male Protestant Americans so angry. A lot of that fuels the way we’re going,” he says. “You are white, you are American, and you have done all the things the system has said you do to ensure your eternal comfort--get your Social Security and Medicare. Then you wake up one day and find out that your Social Security isn’t there, your Medicare is out the window, the hospitals are closing, the schools are closing, and you’re the 3,700th worker that’s been dropped by some major corporation.

“And then somebody sitting up there--the President, the Congress, the media--tells you the fault is too much welfare, too much government and ‘all these f------ n-----s!’ So these angry white Protestant men say, ‘Aha! Now I understand,’ because they won’t be able to say that something is flawed in capitalism.

“I expect we’ll extricate ourselves through some kind of violent upheaval. In the past I was able to see one or two individuals who might make the situation correctable, like Martin Luther King or John Kennedy. . . . Now all those voices have been killed off.”

Belafonte finally pauses.

“And the picture business sits right in the middle of this quagmire, trying to sort out what to do.”