The Jew on the Stage and Screen

Published in B'Nai B'rith Magazine: The National Jewish Monthy, Volume XLIII, No. 4, January, 1929.

Bread and amusement, the cry of the Roman populace, are still most eagerly sought in the life of the world as it is rolling along down the years. The prosperity which the industrial age is providing for ever-growing strata, particularly within these United States, stimulates in its progress an ever-growing need for the other inseparable half-amusement.

A seat in the movies or in the theatre for every workingman, a political slogan recently, is possible and within reach only with the standardization and mass production of bread and amusement. So we are living in an age of wholesale products and consumption of bread an amusement, regardless of the variety in quality and substance. The beautiful things in life that were available only to the few, are now offered at standard prices to the mass which is affluent or carefree enough to enjoy life while living.

An amused and happy humanity would naturally seem to be a better humanity. It has not, however, always been the case. Too often amusement is being sought at the expense and discomfort of others. The danger that lies in mass production and consumption of amusement has been recognized only of late. A motion picture or a play shown on Broadway is likely to be seen by countless numbers in every part of the country. Opinions, habits, and, not the least, prejudices, that many, in previous times, have been imparted to a few, are dispensed to the many who are even more certain to be susceptible to the opinion-forming and prejudice-instilling amusement. Nothing enters the soul more swiftly than the word or the picture which is received with accompanying pleasure.

It was, it seems, the Anti-Defamation League of the B'nai B'rith which first drew attention to this phase of the entertainment problem. It is quite natural that the Jew, having been trained by centuries of observation and persecution, should be more apt to sense danger while it is still invisible. The observations made by the Anti-Defamation League has since been vigorously supported by others in a more direct manner. A Play or a picture must necessarily have a villain. With the grown of sensitivity, more and more groups, classes and people are objecting to being conspicuously depicted as the villain or as the stock which produced villains. The Italians, the Germans, the French, and even the English have objected to films where they were depicted in a light they considered untrue or unfair. The danger of generalization is rightly feared.

To tell of the Jew's constructive contribution to the stage and screen and of the plays and motion pictures in which the Jew's life and character are depicted or touched upon, will be the purpose of this reviewer's observations along the Great White Way.

* * *

The talents of two outstanding Jews, a Hungarian and an American, Ferenc Molnar and David Belasco, have combined to produce what might properly be described as this season's outstanding play.

It is the drama of the industrial age, which witnesses the struggle of machine against man, of invention against soul.

"Mima," the American adaptation of "The Red Mill" by Ferenc Molnar, does not deal with trivial incidents in a man's life. It does not even play on the much-abused triangle theme. It deals with the triangle of humanity, in the fundamentals of life on earth as it unfolds today.

The events take place in hell. It is a demonstration before His Majesty, Satan, and his court, by the Magister, an inventor of a man-destroying machine. Playing on the Bible motifs of temptation and salvation, Ferenc Molnar passes in review the diversified types of mankind in all walks of life. The Magister, putting up a telescope toward earth, is in search of a model man upon whom he can test the efficiency of his machine, which can bring that man to the lowest depths of degradation in our hour, "what takes New York twenty years to accomplish." Think, what a saving of time! None of those reviewed is considered a good enough candidate for the man-destroying machine, as each belongs, His Satanic Majesty decrees, to inferno anyhow.

The choice falls upon a forester who is a model son and a model husband. When the wicked countess of his vicinity tried to tempt him, he hid himself in the top of a tree. He is kidnapped and brought down to inferno where he is put into the machine. Mima, the creation of inferno's great inventor, given life by devilish rays, the woman who is beauty and temptation to perfection, the woman with two hearts which beat equally strong with love and hatred, good and evil, is the vehicle. Leonore Ulric, the star of the production, plays the role magnificently.

The forester goes the whole gamut of vice and degradation. The path leads through forbidden love, corrupt finance, swearing and lying, politics and blackmail. The machine registers faithfully each crime committed. Finally, when the lowest depth is reached and the former model man is about to murder the woman for whom he committed all his deeds, something goes wrong with the machine and instead of carrying out his determination to kill her, he is overwhelmed by his feeling of mercy and forgiveness. The man-destroying machine yields to the strength of the grain of good which still remains. The machine collapses and the manikins, human beings, who were held in the clutches of the infernal structure of iron and steel, are free. Light from the earth descends, as the forester ascends the ladder to return to his forsaken wife and child. Mima, broken and repentant, becomes the object of pity of her creator, the infernal inventor.

"The Red Mill," the Faust of the age of iron and steel, is in more than one way a biting satire, a crushing indictment, a warning and the holding out of a hope.

The play was produced first in Vienna where it was hailed as a masterpiece. It is doubtful, however, whether it could convey its full meaning and beauty without the settings of David Belasco. Every device to make hell look like hell, all his ingenuity in stage lighting, foe which Belasco is known, and every combination of light and shadow, has been employed in the costly presentation. The Belasco Theatre has been rebuilt; a mass of steel covers the stage. The man-destroying machine is a huge construction of unusual precision and ingenuity. Belasco says the presentation of Molnar's great drama he views as his greatest achievement in the theatre. He has every reason to be proud of it.

* * *

The proverbial stage Jew who was set up as an exotic exhibit, supposedly representative of the race, whose mere appearance engendered merriment, is becoming more and more a rare guest. It is difficult to determine to whom one is indebted for the change. Possibly it is the justified resentment and possibly a general raising of the artistic standards. This This does not mean that what is inherently comic in Jewish characteristic approaches in various situations is or has been barred. But who could object to a hearty laugh when it flows not from malice or prejudice but from the nature of things?

The proverbial stage Jew gave way to a more dignified presentation. Jewish comedians on the vaudeville stage and in the various musical comedies are still a dominant factor in the entertainment of the Broadway public. They do not, however, appear in such garb or character as to lay emphasis on what might be considered peculiarly Jewish. The disappearance of the stage Jew is being compensated by native Jewish humor and by frequent recourse to Yiddishisms, which in themselves are natural and healthy.

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The Jew does not fare so well artistically or otherwise in the specially created Jewish plays. That there is a desire to see Jewish plays produced on Broadway is not to be doubted. The frequency of the products and the comparatively long run they enjoy easily proves it. What one finds difficult to understand is why the producers and actors insist on over-written and over-acted Jews plays.

A case in point is the play "Poppa" produced by H.S. Kraft at the Biltmore Theatre.

"Poppa" is supposed to be Yiddish-American for "Papa" and undertakes to present on the stage the "saga of the Schwitzkys." The Schwitzkys, you will readily see, are immigrant Jews who are struggling in their adjustment to the American environment. Their economic plight and their family difficulties, the snobbery they encounter when cupid smiles on their only daughter, the support of the family, Ruth, who falls in love with a Rosenthal, scion of an adjusted American Jewish family, are rich enough ground for an interesting and entertaining tale to be wept over or laughed about, as you please. In "Poppa," the story, so common in a large section of American Jewish families of recent arrival, is resented with such carelessness and lack of regard for detail or proportion that it is turned into a gross burlesque. The dialogue lives up almost one hundred percent to the Americanese of Milt Gross. Even as gifted an actress as Anna Apple of Yiddish Art Theater renown, and Yechiel Goldsmith, cannot escape the temptation of the lines and transgress fearfully with over-playing and over-intonation. Poppa, Pincus Schwitzky, played by Mr. Goldsmith, the slightly Americanized immigrant father, takes his first lessons in civic duty so seriously and solemnly that he plunges into the political work of the East Side Republican district at the expense of his family's welfare. The penalty that he pays is that at the time when his only daughter is about to marry, his being a financial failure constitutes an obstacle to her happiness. Then, fortuitously, the district leader cats his eye upon the faithful Schwitzky to nominate him as alderman for the district. He is elected without difficulty and everything seems to be running in best condition. Suddenly, the district leader, for corruption purposes, attempts to put a halt to Schwitzky's enthusiasm for civic betterment. New in the game and idealistic, Schwitzky does not "understand" and refuses to abandon his reform bills. He is framed by the district leader and, incredibly, we find him in jail in the next scene. The authors, however, were good enough to provide, through Herbert, Poppa's ne'er-do-well son, a dictatphone, which preserved a record of the corrupt politician's "frame-up" and while the feminine part of the Schwitzkys rushes to the license bureau to witness the marriage of a Schwitzky and a Rosenthal, Poppa, not yet cooled off in his civic enthusiasm, hastens away to the Republican district club.

The saga of the Schwitzkys is advertised as a "riotous folk comedy." One is inclined to think that the producers are admitting more than they believe they are.

* * *

George Jessel in "The War Song," at the National Theatre, a play by Bella and Samuel Spewack and Mr. Jessel, based on a story suggested by E. Richard Scheyer, makes a very sympathetic presentation of a Jewish boy, a singer, viewing the world through tones and musical notes, who is a impossible misfit in an American regiment during the World War. Although, by his artistic temperament, he does not fit, and does not think much of the business of killing, he finds sympathy and understanding even in the stormy days of ferocious warfare. He gains favor by his songs and by entertaining his superiors, telling them witty stories. Incredible though the story may seem, the play has a touch of genuine insight into human emotions and motives. Particularly sympathetic is the character of Mrs. Rosen, the mother of Eddie Rosen (George Jessel) played by Clara Langsner. She portrays the role of a Jewish mother whose husband gave his life in the Spanish-American war, with real sympathy and understanding. Though she obviously is most unwilling to permit her only son to share the fate of his father, the audience is in sympathy with her motherly concern. Ten years after the World War, a story similar to that told in "The War Song" can find responsive ears. George Jessel, with his resourcefulness and ability, makes the misfit a likable chap. Charles C. Wilson in the role of Captain Conroy, Eddie's superior officer who stands a lot from him, plays the role superbly.

The scene when the misfit singer rushes into the midst of danger during the fighting to apprehend a second lieutenant who had not kept his promise to Eddie's sister, touches one keenly.

* * *

David Pinski, the distinguished Yiddish dramatist, was the guest for a while on Broadway. Avrano and Friedman presented his new play, "Three," in the Edythe Totten Theatre. "Three" are, in reality, four, in Pinski's conception, for whenever two persons do or intend to do anything, there is always the third inseparable factor, chance, which is responsible for the accomplishment or the failure [of the venture]. With this thesis Pinski set out to present -- is it a tragedy or a comedy? -- three, two young men and a girl. You will guess that both men, one a painter, the other a sculptor, are in love with the girl. Good friends that they are, they keep no secrets from each other. When they decide to turn their feeling into action, that is, to propose, thy are mutually startled by the fact that they are two, and propose simultaneously. Beatrice does not know which she prefers, Joseph or Robert, and so the matter is to be decided by chance. They throw dice and one wins, but the winner, because of having won, is rejected by Beatrice in favor of the defeated. The defeated, however, feels bound by his vow to accept the decision of chance and turns down the imploring Beatrice. And so Pinski plays with the three as chance will have it. As the curtain falls neither Beatrice nor the audience know who is to be preferred or why.

Not chance alone willed it that the play had a run of less than a week.

* * *

"Abie's Irish Rose" is back again for a week at the Schubert-Riviera. After a six years' run and presentations in many of the leading American cities, this rather unique conglomeration of what Ann Nichols understood of Jewish life and Irish character is to make another tour of the country, perhaps to the relief of Broadwayites. It is one of the remarkable occurrences in the history of Jewish plays on the stage. Only a few days ago a Berlin audience hailed the play as good humor and critics expressed understanding for its long American run. It was only a minority of the German critics, those writing for the discriminating, who manifested the same amazement as did the leading critics in America and England.

And now "Abie's Irish Rose," a Paramount picture, is being shown at the Rialto Theatre on Broadway.

* * * 

This reviewer was unable to see the Universal production "The Cohens and the Kellys," which was withdrawn temporarily on account of the suit brought by the author of "Abie's Irish Rose," claiming that "The Cohens and the Kellys" is a plagiarism of her play. If the court rules, after viewing both, that the charge of plagiarism is sustained, there would be no thrill is seeing "The Cohens and the Kellys."

* * *

The life and struggle upward of the band of American Jewish singers whose names are renowned throughout the length and breadth of the country, composers of the popular songs and tunes, is a recurrent note in recent movie production. Perhaps the emergence of the "talkies," whose crying need is action combined with sound, is responsible for the coming to the fore of this epic which is one of the important Jewish contributions to present-day American life.

Warner Brothers, who lead in the talking pictures, are now presenting at the Winter Garden two motion pictures which deal with and have been built around the lives of two of these singers. "The Singing Fool," built around the life of Al Jolson and played by him is in more way than one a thrilling human story. Al Jolson evinces an emotionalism and a sadness of joy which is characteristic of him and of the Jew. The Yiddishisms he cleverly injects into his stirring songs add much to their interest.

* * *

"My Man," constructed around the life of the incomparable Fannie Brice and played by her with a strong cast is put partly in Jewish settings. It promises to be an outstanding feature of the season.

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A significant Jewish contribution to American music is the symphony, "America," by Ernest Bloch, which had its premiere at the end of the month in Carnegie Hall when it was played by the Philharmonic Orchestra, Walter Damrosch conducting.

On the following day it was simultaneously presented to the American public by the Philharmonic orchestras of Boston, Philadelphia, Chicago, and San Francisco and again in New York. It will be presented at a later date in other leading American cities.

The symphony, termed by the composer an epic rhapsody, is a unique musical masterpiece. It expresses the past, present and future hopes of America in a score which re-echoes the melodies of early American life, from the time of the Mayflower down to the present jazz age. There are idyllic tones, notes of lyric beauty, of mass reaction, impassioned notes of scorn and visions for the future. It closes with an anthem to be sung by the audience. The composer hopes that the anthem will become representative of America. There is love, there is vision in the score, bordering, as the critic says, on the prophetic, a vein inherent in Ernest Bloch. Not without reason is the symphony called an epic of democracy.

It is characteristic that the noted Jewish composer, a native of Switzerland, who came to the United States in 1916, has produced a symphony which was recognized as most deserving the name America, the land of his adoption. The composer of the symphony "Israel" was the winner in a contest conducted by "Musical America." His symphony, "America," was chosen from among 92 scores submitted. It was the unanimous choice of the judges, all noted composers and conductors, who will present it simultaneously through their ten or twelve major symphony orchestras throughout the country. Four years after his arrival in the United States in 1920, Ernest Bloch conceived the idea for his symphony.

The author of "Israel" and "America" has added glory to his name and to the name of his people.

The reception the symphony had in the metropolitan press was not marked, though, by the same enthusiasm all along the line. Notwithstanding the fact that the judges' committee which unanimously chose Ernest Bloch's symphony included Leopold Stokowski, Walter Damrosch, Frederick Stock, Alfred Hertz and Serge Koussevitzky, voices not lacking among reviewers who term the symphony "provocative" and at least "debatable." The greatest amount of displeasure on the part of these critics centers around the concluding anthem. One reviewer, writing in the "Telegram," apparently resents the fact that the composer termed his symphony America "without apologies." References are not missing to the composer's racial origin and his recent arrival. But then, who does not remember the reception accorded by the musical reviewers of the leading composers? Time erased the first-nighter's criticism.