The Jew on the Stage and Screen

The B'Nai B'Rith Magazine, February 1929.

Of more than passing interest is the drama, “Judas,” written by Walter Ferris and Basil Rathbone, presented at the Longacre Theatre. The events or the legend of the events which occurred in Galilee and Jerusalem some 1900 years ago, giving rise to Christianity, have not yet been historically or psychologically fully ascertained, explained, or understood. When theology mixes with history, the latter is undoubtedly the loser. So it is that despite the untold volumes written on the subject of the rise of Christianity, its origin and the exact nature of the events which led up to its development are still in the twilight region.

The drama of the crucifixion which has turned out to be, due to the interpretations and the legends springing from it, a Jewish tragedy for the past 1900 years, is certainly of a most stirring character. However, the exploitation of this drama outside the realm of the church, and its presentation on the secular stage is of comparatively recent date. The attempts at the dramatization of this material have in the past followed the official narratives. One of the major characters in this drama is undoubtedly that horrifying and repugnant figure, Judas Iscariot, painted in such dark and unredeeming colors that black is white next to him.

The authors of "Judas," to their credit, it must be said, have adopted a totally new point of view in the interpretation of his character, faith, and fate. To be sure, the interpretation now given at the Longacre Theatre is not entirely new. It is based on the conclusions of impartial, modern historians, and particularly Jewish scholars who have attempted to reconstruct the story of Jesus of Nazareth on the background of the then-prevailing political conditions in Judea under the Roman yoke. This interpretation, nonetheless, is so radically different from the Orthodox Christian point of view that it will hardly be acceptable to those who are unaware of the research work recently done.

Judas Iscariot, as represented by Basil Rathbone, who plays the part, is not a born betrayer, but a highly dramatic human figure. He did what he did not for ulterior motives, but inspired by patriotic zeal and devotion to his Galilean master in order, as the lines have it, “to save him from himself.” It was the impatience of one of the Judean zealots, whose number during the Roman subjugation at that time was legion, and his irrepressible desire to see in Judea the return of the Kingdom of Freedom and Justice, that moved the disciple to force the hand of his master.

Walter Ferris and Basil Rathbone in their play of three acts tell the story of Judas-Brutus with outspoken sympathy and understanding. So conscientious were both in their treatment of the subject that not a single detail recorded in the Christian gospels was omitted or ignored. Surprising, however, as it may be to the uninitiated, these facts when stripped of the bias do not constitute the black indictment which theology has rendered. A human, fighting, and disappointed Judas, driven to an act of desperation, emerges out of Rathbone’s interpretation and presents a sincere plea for vindication, although he is aware that the “world will not understand.” Even the most indicting detail of the 30 pieces of silver is not omitted, but it really played no role in the act or the motive. Judas agrees to the high priest’s suggestion only to “bind the bargain,” but when the 30 pieces are thrown to him, he contemptuously lets them drop to the floor, walking away into the darkness to hang himself.

Act One takes place in the courtyard of the house of Simon Ish Kerioth in Judea on Passover in the year 30 of the Christian era. Act Two takes place in a house in Bethany near Jerusalem on the evening of March 28, the eighth of Nissan in the year 33. The last act takes place in one of the chambers of the Temple in Jerusalem and in the house in Bethany. The figure of the founder of Christianity is not visible but his presence is indicated by a light coming from the garden into the house in Bethany.

Judas, a son of a well-to-do Judean family, a student of the law, is fired with enthusiasm for the redemption of his country. He burns with indignation against the persecutions of the Romans and is most eager for action. He therefore gets into conflict with his pious father. When he is attracted to John the Baptist on the Jordan and meets the Galilean there, he is so absorbed by the hope of redemption for Judea which is to come through direct action and result in the restoration of the Kingdom of Justice and Freedom that he neglects to return home for the celebration of the Passover and the consummation of his betrothal to Naomi. He has a vision of an empire and thinks that he and the Galilean fulfill each other. He is somewhat impatient with the theory of meekness and of blessing the persecutors, but believes in the powers of his master and in his leadership and hopes to persuade him to action which will grip the people and arouse them against the foreign yoke. When the entry into Jerusalem materializes he is overcome with disappointment and when several days in Jerusalem pass without the leader calling for the uprising, he decides to bring it about by forcing his hand to choose between life and death. His leader, he knew, loved life and feared pain, and when confronted by the choice he would assume the leadership. Failure was all that he dreaded. When failure came by failure to act, he hanged himself.

The staging and costumes by Richard Boleslavsky and the settings by Jo Mielziner were chosen with care and skill, with an eye to historical accuracy. Dorothy Cumming in the role of Naomi, to whom Judas sings the Song of Songs, is pleasing to the eye. William Courtleigh in the role of the high priest Caiphas and also as Simon Ish Kerioth gives a dignified and impressive presentation. Basil Rathbone is the personification of a convincing and sincere Judas pleading for vindication.

It is interesting that some of the reviews in the metropolitan press did not predict a long run for this splendid play, nor are they favorable in their comment. It seems that with theology as an influence, a historical interpretation which sounds plausible and convincing on the face of the facts stands small chance.

Alexander Carr in “Guinea Pig”

Alexander Carr of “Potash and Perlmutter” fame is again starred in the play “The Guinea Pig” at the President Theatre, Forty-Eight Street.

The author, Preston Sturges, who had the courage and means to produce his own play, attempted to compress two dramatic conflicts into one. It is difficult to know whether his intention was to present the drama of the theatrical producer, Sam Small (Mr. Carr) or that of the guinea pig, an unsophisticated playwright who happens to be available both emotionally and physically for a novelist, a widow, who has not drunk enough from the cup of emotion to make her love scenes sound genuine on the stage. It doesn’t really matter whether the “guinea pig” experiment of the stage playwright is or is not possible, or whether the drama produced on the stage of the President Theatre is in itself a success, but the emotion and talent put by Alexander Carr into the role of Sam Small, the Jewish Broadway producer, is genuine and grips the audience.

Drama Close to Home

A novel idea in stagecraft is the one introduced in “Street Scene,” by Elmer Rice, playing to capacity audiences at the Playhouse, 48th Street. The author, who also directed the staging, demonstrated that for the fundamental drama of life one does not need to travel to exotic corners or to luxurious homes, but right in the streets of modern cities drama looks upon you, enfolds you and haunts you.

In three acts which take place before a tenement house, with only windows, window shades, and the garbage can to indicate the separateness of the families, there passes before you a conglomeration of passion, hatred, deceit and hopeless idealism which, though they sadden, entertain the onlooker.

On a hot night in June the temperaments, dispositions, and lost hopes of the tenement population come into sharp relief after a hard day’s work. The crux of the story is, of course, forbidden love, with the milkman, the iceman, the letter carrier, the janitor, and the variety of neighbors of Swedish, Irish, Jewish and other racial stocks as the spectators and participants.

In this realistic drama which one might say is a piece of life put on the stage, the vulgar racial antagonism plays no minor role. As the life in the slums vibrates with passion, hope, and resignation, and carefree life, sure enough, leads to fatal results, there is the intellectual and visionary Jew who, though he participates in the medley, keeps on spinning his utopian dreams. The author introduced a new character on the American stage – that of the Jewish radical, the immigrant who still believes that all the evils will be cured if the roots of the evil be “eliminated” from the social order. Abraham Kaplan, a writer, is, of course, a socialist who, though aged and broken, is relentless in his fidelity to the idealism of his youth. His oratorical powers and his intellectual attitude evoke hatred toward him of the under-nourished and ignorant in whose behalf he spins his dreams. Though the neighbors consider him a crank and oft-times a dangerous “Bolshevik,” he interrupts his meditations to deliver impassioned addresses on national economy.

The same strain runs in the veins of his son, Samuel Kaplan who, though liked by the tenement house-dwellers as a sympathetic and promising young man, is hardly sympathized with in his amorous attentions to the daughter of the heroine. Though she admires Sammy, she has as much understanding for him as the rest. Despite her love for Sammy, you will not be surprised to learn that she has accepted the offer of Sammy’s rival to move “temporarily” to an apartment, prior to her starring on Broadway. The whispers of the old Irish woman that “to bring a Jew into the family” is, after all, not so desirable, apparently have their effect.

As the street scene closes, after bullets have penetrated the bodies of the sinful and as other tenants appear to occupy the vacant flat, Abraham Kaplan, with his intellectual calm and resignation, walks off with a bundle of radical papers under his arm to continue to spin his dream for the redemption of humanity.

Leo Bulgakov in the role of Abraham Kaplan gives a true-to-character presentation; so does Horace Braham, as Sammy.

Eddie Cantor in “Whoopee”

Whoopee Ziegfeld’s spectacular presentation of the season takes the place of the Follies, with Eddie Cantor as the pillar of a huge structure of beauty, color, melody and the dance. It would, of course, be a great piece of optimism to expect logical sequence in a musical comedy of this kind. The dazzling display and the momentary absorption is the thing. However, as much as could be gathered, “Whoopee,” in two acts and ten scenes, tells some kind of story, based upon “The Nervous Wreck,” by Owen Davis, of racial difficulties. Eddie Cantor as the singing waiter, as an Indian, as a convalescent patient, and in every imaginable role of a comedian, gets the largest share of laughs in what they are pleased to call “making whoopee.”

Marx Brothers in “Animal Crackers”

In the realm where a smile is an investment and a laugh is a fortune, the Marx Brothers in “Animal Crackers” at the 44th Street Theatre take the front line on the stage. Groucho, Zeppo, Chico, and Harpo Marx, against the background of the various settings, can pleasurably kill any leisure time you may have. The Marx Brothers, on the vaudeville stage for a number of years and lately on Broadway, are playing to capacity audiences which rock with laughter at their antics. Groucho Marx, apparently the first born, is the leader in ingenuity and device.

Besides the Yiddishisms, the Jewish angle is provided as a part of the comedy when the threat is made to one of the characters, who poses as a financier and man of affairs, to disclose that he was formerly “Rabbi Cantor of Czechoslovakia.”

Julius Rosenwald in Movietone

The Fox Movietone has persuaded Julius Rosenwald to deliver a talk to the audiences on success and wisdom. “Success and wisdom are not synonymous” is the conclusion of the famous American Jewish philanthropist. Says Mr. Rosenwald through the movietone in a clear, natural voice:

“It was Ingersoll who said, ‘I hate a stingy man.’ If you have only a dollar in the world and you have to spend it, spend it like a king. I’d rather be a beggar and spend my money like a king than be a king and spend my money like a beggar. Most people believe that because a man has made a fortune his views on any subject are valuable. For my part, I have always believed that most large fortunes are made by men of mediocre ability who tumbled into a lucky opportunity and could not help but get rich, and in most cases others given the same chance would have done far better with it. Hard work and attention to business are necessary, but they rarely result in achieving a large fortune. Do not be fooled into believing that because a man is rich he is necessarily smart. There is ample proof to the contrary.”

Talkie Insinuates Nationality

“Give and Take,” a Universal production presented at the Colony Theatre, is not directly of Jewish interest. It is, one might say, a parody of the industrial-democracy idea and portrays the mischief done by the son of a successful canned-fruits manufacturer who returns from college imbued with the spirit of the times and introduces a “give and take” system. Were the picture entirely a silent drama, it should not find mention in this review.

The trouble, however, is with the sound which one is led to suspect will cause irritation to many ears. In the “talkie” an ordinary conversation seems to the producers to be of no exciting interest unless it conveys a peculiar intonation which characterizes one or another group. In “Give and Take” the manufacturer, sympathetic and respectable member of society that he is, speaks mit a German Jewish accent.