Trudy Gold
The Comic Genius of Zero Mostel
Trudy Gold - The Comic Genius of Zero Mostel
- Good evening everyone, wherever you are. And I’m going to admit a prejudice, because I’ve waited a long time to talk about Zero Mostel, because he really is one of my most favourite characters. I just think he is a genius, and he was far more than just a comic genius. Before I do that, I’ve been asked to make an announcement. A lot of you don’t seem to be getting the programmes. If it’s from this week, when it comes on auto-reply, if you scroll down, you’ll be able to see the programmes. The website will be up at the beginning of September, and we’re going to be sending out an email to let you all know when it’s happening. And it really, really is happening. We’re all very, very excited about it. And I really want to compliment the team for what they’ve done. And the other point is, if you want presentations that are further back than this week, then you just have to send a note of exactly what you want. So, I hope that’s the housekeeping, and let me now begin a presentation on one of my heroes. Can we have the first slide, please, Karina? And there you see him, Samuel Joel, Zero, Mostel, 1915 to 1977. And he was born in Brooklyn. And I’ve got a lovely shot for you of Brooklyn, if we can go on to the next slide. He’s born in Brooklyn, and he was born to Israel and Cina Mostel, nay, Druchs. They both came from eastern Europe, but his mother had been brought up in Vienna. His father, he was the child of immigrants, because his father had immigrated in 1898, as a result of the Pogroms in Russia, and his mother, in 1908. They married. Now, his father, Israel, already had four children from his first wife, and he was going to have another four.
Samuel, later called Zero, was number seven. And according to his brother, Bill, his mother coined the name Zero for him because she said, “If you don’t work at school, you would amount to zero. You’ll never be anything. You’re going to amount to zero.” Now, important to remember, the family were poor, they’re living in a very Jewish neighbourhood, they are Orthodox, and he is steeped in Yiddish and Jewish culture. Because of the poverty, the family try something else. They try and get out of the city. They move to Connecticut, and farmed. Their father hoped that he would be able to get an income from the winery and the slaughterhouse. You know, kosher wine, and, of course, kosher meat. Unfortunately, the business failed, and the whole family moved back to the poverty of New York. Now, we know quite a bit about Zero when he was a youngster. He was very bright, he was very funny, but his father, he recognises, he’s an . He’s got that incredible talent. His father, what’s he want for him? He wants him to become a rabbi. But what Zero was always obsessed with was art, painting and drawing. And that was his lifetime passion. As he grew a little bit older, he used to go to The Met, to the Museum of Art, to copy paintings. He used to dress himself, he was always a showman, he dressed himself in a velvet suit, and he copied the same painting every day, to the delight of the people in the crowd. It was John White’s “Study in Black and Green.” So, imagine this adolescent boy, dressed up in a velvet suit, going into the museum, and every day, copying a painting. We know that he spoke many languages. He was, of course, fluent in Yiddish, and Hebrew, and English, but he also had German and Italian. He was an A student.
And there were all sorts of schemes on the Lower East Side, in the early years, just after the First World War, really right up until the ‘40s, to educate poor kids. There was something called the Educational Alliance. It was a New York City social institution, and it was to give kids from poor backgrounds a really good chance. And they said of him, he was a future Rembrandt, or maybe just a comedian. He then went to the city college. He went to the New York Public College, which was, again, to allow poor students to get a better education. In 1935, he got his Bachelor of Arts, and an MA, but he had to leave. He wanted to study, but, you know, the family are very poor, so he did what so many other dutiful sons did, daughters, he went off to find work. And he became involved in a public work of arts project, and they paid him a stipend to teach art. In 1939, he married. He married a woman called Clara Sverd. The marriage failed, probably because he spent too many hours either trying to earn a living, or in his studio, painting. They divorced in 1944. And in return for giving her, for a divorce, he gave her a percentage of his earnings. And, of course, later on, he’s going to earn a lot of money. And this is going to last right up into the 1950s. Now, part of his work with the project was to give gallery talks at the museums. He was a born comedian. And like many comedians, though, his humour hides a very, very serious side. But, as he gives his talks around the galleries of New York, he couldn’t suppress the comedy, and his reputation grew. He was so funny that people joined the courses, joined the tours, not just for the art, but because they wanted to hear Zero Mostel. And he was invited to entertain at parties. And he got between three and $5 a time.
And later, he’s invited to social clubs. So, gradually, having the career in art, having teaching on the projects, all of a sudden, he is getting other kind of work through his comedy, and his social commentary. He was always very well aware of all the political currents. And you’ve got to remember what America was like in the '20s, the '30s, the Depression, and then the New Deal, and how desperate it was for ordinary folk. And, later on, these performances, when he hit out against the establishment, are going to play a part in what happens to him. Now, can we see the next slide, please? There was something else going on in New York, and I want to talk about a man called Barney Josephson. He actually founded a cafe called Cafe Society. He himself was the child of Jewish immigrants from Libau in Latvia. Again, the poor immigrant story. His mother was a seamstress, father, a cobbler. Unfortunately, his father died just after his birth. But, what’s going to happen to the family? And this is the American success story. Both his brothers, later on, became lawyers. In the Depression, he managed to eke out a living, lots of different jobs. He’s in New York, in the '30s, and he’s crazy about jazz. He used to go to the Cotton Club in Harlem, and he was horrified that even in what he called their ghetto, in Harlem, the Blacks were limited to sitting at the back. And that below Harlem, of course, they couldn’t come into any of the jazz clubs. And also, he’d managed to get the money together to tour Europe.
And he had been to Berlin, to Prague, and he realised what was happening in those cafes and cabarets. Just think about Berlin Cabaret in the '30s, before Hitler. It was about satire, it was about an alternative way of seeing the world, it was very realistic, it was sharp-edged, it was political. And he comes back, and he decides he’s going to open his own Cafe Society. And he does it in 1938, in the West Village, in New York City. And he was a man who believed passionately in civil rights. What he wanted was a non-segregated club. He wanted it free from the mob. And can we see who opened the show? There’s Barney Josephson. He lives 'til 1988. To start up the club, you’ll be interested to know, that he borrowed $6,000 from a friend of his, who also thought the way he did. And he managed to get some very talented artists. You see a brilliant bit of art behind you. He managed to get a talented group of artists to paint pictures for the club. It becomes the trendy place to do. “I told them,” he said, “I was going to open a political cabaret with jazz, a satire on the upper classes.” It became so successful, they opened up another branch in uptown. And who did, can we see the next slide, please?
Here, you see Billie Holiday, that’s where she opened. Billie Holiday’s career began in Cafe Society. Later on, he was going to take on singers like Lena Horne, Sarah Vaughan. And it was here, that two years into Cafe Society, Zero became his second master of ceremonies. And gradually, he becomes the main attraction at the club. The name Zero stuck. He was called Z to his friends. And I think we could say, that age 27, in Cafe Society, the funny, political genius, who was also a song and dance man. Those of you who know his films well will know just how light on his feet he was, despite the fact that he was a very big man. And also, he had a very, very good voice. So, he’s on stage, he’s political, he’s making lots of jabs at the right, at the right-wingers. And I should mention that the song that Billie Holiday premiered, “Strange Fruit,” of course, has become one of the great classics of jazz. He does so well, that by 1942, his salary, and, of course, America’s now into the war, his salary rose from $40 a week to $450. And this was his path in. He begins to appear on radio shows, to Broadway shows, he appears at the Paramount Theatre, and also in his first movie, a comedy, “Du Barry Was a Lady.” Of course, Du Barry was the mistress of Louis XV of France. He also made cameo appearances in Yiddish theatre. He was a man of the people. He never lost touch with his roots. And, in 1943, he’s actually described in “Life Magazine,” “Just about the funniest American now living.” But, of course, March '43, he’s drafted into the army. However, he had some unspecified disability, so, in August '43, he was discharged from the army.
So, what he did then was to become an entertainer. So many of the stars, they spent their time entertaining the troops. He married, he married again, a woman called Kathryn Harkin, who was an actress and a dancer. He’d met her at Radio City Hall. It caused real problems in his family because she wasn’t Jewish, and his parents were strictly Orthodox. And tragically, the mother never met her, or her grandsons. It was a complicated marriage, complicated relationship, with fights, adoration. And they did stay together until his death. So what happens? The war’s over, he’s out of the army, and he begins to appear in plays, musicals, even in a performance of “The Beggar’s Opera,” a satirical opera, remember. Didn’t get brilliant reviews, but, 1948, he’s got his own TV show, “Off the Record.” And on the 11th of May, 1948, he appeared on “The Ed Sullivan Show,” which was the, it was the show that half of America stayed in to see. If I remember, because I was told this by American colleagues, that it was on a Sunday night, and everybody stayed in to listen to “The Ed Sullivan Show.” There might be people online who can actually corroborate that for me. However, there’s going to be problems for Zero Mostel. He is already, he said, “I was blacklisted before the blacklist.” During the army service, he was actually investigated for Communist party membership.
According to an American Army report, quote, “reliably reported that he was a Communist party member.” And it’s going to be a couple of years, gradually, because what happens? Can we see the next slide, please? The House of Un-American Activities Committee. Think politically. Once the war is over, the real supposed threat to democracy is communism. Now, many, many people in the '30s, who hated fascism, think about the Spanish Civil War, think about how many young liberals and lefties went to fight in Spain, think about Mussolini in Italy, think about Hitler in Germany, against the backdrop of fascism. And nobody really knew about the horror of Stalin at this period. In fact, you can go on to say, I had a great uncle who did fight in Spain in the Civil War, and he said he was beginning to smell something even then. But he had a brother, who, they were all communists. He did not leave the party until Hungary. So, the point I’m making, it took a long time for the evidence of the monstrosity that was Stalin to come through. So a lot of liberal, left-wing-leaning people, in fact, had been involved in left-wing protests. But the point is, the House of Un-American Activities, run by Senator McCarthy, with people like Richard Nixon earning his spurs, and, in fact, Kennedy was involved in it, young Bobby Kennedy, of course, Kahane, the rather sinister Jewish figure, they were looking particularly at show business, because the rise of television, film.
And it has to be said that the majority of the film people, the moguls, they gave in. And, in fact, it’s not going to be until 1950 that he’s actually going to appear in films again. He was finding it very, very difficult to get work. He’s being pinpointed out as a communist. And on January the 29th, 1952, Martin Berkeley, a Hollywood screenwriter, identified Mostel to HUAC as a member of the Communist party. And after this testimony, he was totally blacklisted. Now, one of the evils of HUAC, they would pull people in, and they would ask them to name names. And it was a terrible period of witch-huntery, where if you didn’t name names, you yourself were in terrible trouble. And many of them were cowards, or that’s what Mostel called them. I think it’s very important, and I’ve said this before, because this is what has been said to me by many people who’ve lived in very acute times, particularly people who survived the camps, and they say, “Don’t pass judgement unless you’re in hell.” You can judge perpetrators, you can judge collaborators, but can you actually judge how victims behave? I’m just throwing that at you before I get on with the story, because Zero Mostel was called before the committee, he declines to name names, he took the Fifth Amendment, and he actually confronted the committee ideologically. He was a very, remember, he’s a very clever man, and he said, he referred to 20th Century Fox as 18th Century Fox, for its collaboration and lack of courage. He said, he actually said to them, “What do you think I was going to do, sell acting secrets to the Russians?” He was admired for his courage, but it meant that he and his family are going to struggle terribly. He gained an awful lot of friends over it, but he did suffer terribly. There was one film that he did appear in, in 1950. It’s called, “Panic in the Streets.”
Can we see the next slide, please? “Panic in the Streets,” it was a film noir, and it was Elia Kazan. Elia Kazan, a brilliant director, Elia Kazan, who actually was a Greek. And he said that, basically, Zero Mostel was the funniest man he ever knew. And he said this, “I thought,” so he gives him a part in “Panic in the Streets.” You can see that Richard Widmark is in it, Jack Palance, and he’s got a straight part in it. And it was pretty well received, this particular film. But this is what Elia Kazan said of him. “I thought of him as an extraordinary artist and delightful companion, one of the funniest and most original men I’ve ever met. I constantly sought his company. He was one of the three people I rescued from the industry’s blacklist. For a long time, Zero had not been able to get work in films. I managed to get him into films.” And he played supporting roles in films. And it was by 1957, though, that a Toby Cole, he was a New York theatrical agent, the blacklist is beginning to run out of teeth. McCarthy is being discredited. But it had a terrible impact on cinema. And, in fact, I was talking to a friend of mine, who I hope is on lockdown, an American, whose father was in show business, and very friendly with Zero Mostel. And she was telling me how many of her father’s friends and acquaintances, they actually came to England to work. And it meant that British television became much better. For example, one of my favourite series when I was a kid was Richard Greene as Robin Hood. That was written by one of the blacklisted writers.
Many of them were also writing under false names, but that’s something I’m going to talk about later on. But, Toby Cole, a New York theatrical agent, who’s violently against the blacklist, he offered to represent him on theatre. And it leads to a great revival in his career. And his first play, he plays, he actually plays Leopold Bloom in “Ulysses in a Nightgown.” It’s based on James Joyce’s “Ulysses,” and it’s one of his favourite books. This, and here you see a clip, Zero Mostel, as Leopold Bloom in a comic taking of “Ulysses in a Nightgown.” I cannot emphasise enough how clever this man was. He was incredibly well read, he’d read all the classics, and his portrayal, using humour, but always humour with a bite. And this is a rave review, it’s off Broadway, but “Newsweek’s” Jack Kroll, “Something unbelievable happened. A fat comedian named Zero Mostel gave a performance that was even more astonishing than Laurence Olivier.” And he was awarded the Off-Broadway Theatre for his performance in the '58-'59 season. And, as he’s becoming more famous, and the blacklist is lessening, he is in two episodes of “Play of the Week.” Now, in January 1960, he was involved in a terrible accident. He was actually hit by a bus when he’s getting out of a taxi. His leg was crushed. And, in hospital, the Sinai Hospital, they wanted to amputate, because they were terrified of gangrene. But he took the risk. He was in hospital for six months, but he survived, with his leg intact. But it had a terrible toll. He was in pain for the rest of his life. But, never forget what a showman he was.
From then on, wherever he went, particularly to the opera, which he absolutely adored, he always carried a cane to go with his cape. Later that year, he played Estragon in “Waiting for Godot,” and Jean in Ionesco’s “Rhinoceros.” Now, these are very, very serious, important plays. Now, this is a review in “The New Republic.” “A great dancer, control of movement, a great actor, control of voice, a great mime, control of facial expressions.” He wins the Best Actor for his transition, in Ionesco’s play, from man to rhinoceros. And then in 1962, we see him in something that made him immortal, the first of his immortal films. Shall we see a clip of him playing Pseudolus in “A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum”? This is the seduction scene. And if you haven’t seen it, there are so many revivals of it, and it still makes everybody laugh in the aisles. So let’s see him in the seduction scene. “Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum,” 964 performances, Tony Award for Best Musical, and this is what makes him the great star. So let’s see him.
I’m a disgrace to my family. My father will turn in his grave.
Your father is alive!
This will kill him.
Oh, come here. Just lie down. It’ll be all over in one moment. You’re delicious.
What if he tries to kiss me?
He won’t kiss you!
How can he help it if I’m so delicious?
Oh, come back here. Just lie still. Just lie still. The captain, the captain will take one look at you, shudder, and go on his way heartbroken.
It’ll never work. Look at me, just look at me.
I can’t take my eyes off you. ♪ You’re lovely ♪ ♪ Absolutely lovely ♪ ♪ Who’d believe the loveliness ♪ ♪ Of you ♪
No!
Come back here and lie down! ♪ Perfect ♪ ♪ Sweet and warm and winsome ♪ ♪ Radiant as in some dream ♪ ♪ Come true ♪ ♪ Now Venus will seem tame ♪ ♪ Helen and her thousand ships ♪ ♪ Will have to die of shame ♪ ♪ You’re so lovely ♪ ♪ Frighteningly lovely ♪ ♪ That the world ♪ ♪ Will never seem the same ♪ ♪ I’m lovely ♪ ♪ Absolutely lovely ♪ ♪ Who’d believe the loveliness ♪ ♪ Of me ♪
I would. ♪ Perfect ♪ ♪ Sweet and warm and winsome ♪ ♪ Radiant as in some dream ♪ ♪ Come true ♪ ♪ Now ♪
Shouldn’t I have some jewellery?
Jewellery?
Well.
Erronius’ gaggle.
All right, should we cut it there, Karina? I think you get the story. And, of course, in his next role, he plays Potemkin in the “Great Catherine,” which is a satire. He plays, he actually, he, of course, is Catherine’s lover, but he is being usurped. Catherine is played by the beautiful Jeanne Moreau. Peter O'Toole is the love interest, but he steals it. And then, of course, can we come on to what I think is, perhaps, his greatest role? He was the, of course, “Fiddler.” Oh, I should mention, before we start that, that the part he played of Pseudolus in “A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum,” it was rejected by Phil Silvers, who said, “I’m not into that old shtick.” And then Milton Berle also turned it down. That particular play, when he was there, 964 performances. And so, it was later made into a movie with Mostel. And, of course, that was what you saw a clip from. But now let’s come on to one of my favourite songs in one of my favourite shows. But before we talk about it, I want to talk a little bit about “Fiddler on the Roof” because there’s going to be terrible tension behind the scenes. Of course, it’s going to, it’s based on Sholem Aleichem’s wonderful play. It was written by, it was adapted by Harold Robbins. It was influenced, also, by the various paintings of Chagall. They were looking for a name. Was it going to be Tevye? But, of course, they looked at three of Chagall’s paintings, those of you who love art, the “Green Violinist,” “Le Mort,” and “The Fiddler,” and they actually came up with “Fiddler on the Roof.” And the play, the short story by Sholem Aleichem, of course, is called “Tevye and His Daughters.” And I don’t have to tell you the story because you all know the story. The first performance, it’s the first ever musical to run on Broadway for 3,000 shows. It was a record that was held for 10 years, until “Grease” came along. Philip Roth didn’t like it much. He called it shtetl kitsch. But then, did Philip Roth like many things? It won nine Tonys. And also, though, there was a terrible feud between Mostel and Jerome Robbins, who was directing it. And before I get on to showing you that wonderful clip, I want to talk a little bit about Jerome Robbins, because that’s also going to take you back to the HUAC days. He had been born Jerome Rabinowitz. Always had a passion about dance.
He made his debut with the Yiddish Art Theatre. He had a small role in “The Brothers Ashkenazi.” He moved gradually from dancing to choreography. He got his first Tony in 1947 for “High Button Shoes.” He became a member, Jerome Robbins, he became a member of the Actors Studio. He was a classmate of Marlon Brando, Montgomery Clift, Sydney Lumet. And he took his first award for co-directing “Miss Liberty.” He also worked in ballet. He was highly, highly talented. And, of course, 1957, his huge hit, “West Side Story.” And he collaborated with Sondheim, also on “The Music Man,” “Gypsy.” But, back in 1950, he had been put before HUAC, the House of Un-American Activities, and he confessed to party membership. He held out on naming names until, according to his family, and that’s why I said be careful about judgement , he was threatened with public exposure because he was a homosexual. And you can imagine, at that particular time, and what it would’ve done to his career. It was also illegal. So he did name names, he named 10 names. His career didn’t suffer, but it caused huge resentment. And Zero Mostel never forgave him.
And also, it has to be said that Zero Mostel was larger than life. He couldn’t have been easy to direct. And that’s one of the reasons, later on, that Topol really takes over the role in the film, and later on, on the stage production. But, Zero Mostel, “If I Were a Rich Man,” forget all the behind-the-scenes fighting, because, to me, this is sheer, absolute talent. And can I tell you a funny story? Because when we took a group to Poland, years ago, just after communism collapsed, we went to the so-called best restaurant in Krakow. It was a hunting lodge called Veganic, which had once been the lodge of the Polish kings that entertained there. And in those days, you could have a four-course meal for about $5. And we were with a group of Americans, and English, and we were Western. And as we walked in for our table, they actually played this particular song. So, and there’s lots of nuances on that. So let’s hear Zero Mostel in action. Tevye the Milkman, “Fiddler on the Roof,” “If I Were a Rich Man.” Thank you, Karina.
Dear God, you know, you made many, many poor people. I know it’s no great shame to be poor, but it’s no great honour, either. And what would’ve been so terrible if I had a small fortune? ♪ If I were a rich man ♪ ♪ Ya ba dibba dibba dibba dibba dibba dibba dum ♪ ♪ All day long, I’d biddy biddy bum ♪ ♪ If I were a wealthy man ♪ ♪ I wouldn’t have to work hard ♪ ♪ Ya ba dibba dibba dibba dibba dibba dibba dum ♪ ♪ If I were a biddy biddy rich ♪ ♪ Idle-diddle-didle-didle man ♪ ♪ I’d build a big tall house ♪ ♪ With rooms by the dozen ♪ ♪ Right in the middle of the town ♪ ♪ A fine tin roof with real wooden floors below ♪ ♪ There could be one long staircase just going up ♪ ♪ And one even longer coming down ♪ ♪ And one more leading nowhere, just for show ♪ ♪ I’d fill my yard ♪ ♪ With chicks and turkeys and geese and ducks ♪ ♪ For the town to see and hear ♪ ♪ Squawking just as noisily as they can ♪ ♪ And each loud ♪ ♪ Will land like a trumpet on the ear ♪ ♪ As if to say, here lives a wealthy man ♪ ♪ If I were a rich man ♪ ♪ Ya ba dibba dibba dibba dibba dibba dibba dum ♪ ♪ All day long I’d biddy biddy bum ♪ ♪ If I were a wealthy man ♪ ♪ I wouldn’t have to work hard ♪ ♪ Ya ba dibba dibba dibba dibba dibba dibba dum ♪ ♪ If I were a biddy biddy rich ♪ ♪ Idle-diddle-didle-didle man ♪ ♪ I’d see my wife, my Golde ♪ ♪ Looking like a rich man’s wife, ♪ ♪ with a proper double chin ♪ ♪ Supervising meals to her heart’s delight ♪ ♪ I see her putting on airs and strutting like a peacock ♪ ♪ Oy, what a happy mood she’s in ♪ ♪ Screaming at the servants, day and night ♪ ♪ The most important men in town ♪ ♪ Will come to fawn on me ♪ ♪ They will ask me to advise them ♪ ♪ Like a Solomon the Wise ♪ ♪ If you please, Reb Tevye ♪ ♪ Pardon me, Reb Tevye ♪ ♪ Posing problems that would cross a rabbi’s eyes ♪ ♪ And it won’t make one bit of difference ♪ ♪ If I answer right or wrong ♪ ♪ When you’re rich, they think you really know ♪
I think we better stop, Karina, although it’s so wonderful. I think, this is the comment from “The New York Times.” And I hope you noticed how he created cantorial sounds. It sounds like he’s using his experience, his Jewish experience, and that caused a lot of problems on set. But, this is what “The New York Times” reviewer said, “His Tevye is so penetrating and heart-turning that you forget it is a performance.” And this is his total reclaiming, because he was actually invited to the White House. He is now seen as part of the establishment, although that was the last thing he ever wanted. And, of course, I’ve left time, because now we come on to his most controversial film, with one of the most controversial filmmakers in Hollywood. And, of course, that is “The Producers.” In 1967, Mel Brooks, “The Producers.” Mel Brooks, of course, who’d earned his bones writing for the Sid Caesar show. All the best, all the people who, later on, were going to dominate the Hollywood scene, and the New York scene, where did they learn their craft? Writing for Sid Caesar. People like Neil Simon, people like Carl Reiner, who only died quite recently, you know? Mel Brooks, of course, is still alive. And this is his directorial debut. He managed to borrow the money from a friend of his, Sidney Glazier. And he also got the rest of the money from a philanthropist who liked the idea of making fun about Hitler. Now, “The Producers,” when it first came out, was unbelievably controversial, because Mel Brooks, and I want you to, just as Zero Mostel has an incredibly serious side, and the two of them were very close.
Although Zero didn’t want to play the part of the producer because, as he said, “I don’t want to play a dirty old man who gets money out of elderly women on their way to the grave.” Because I’m sure you all know the plot of “The Producers,” that Mel Brooks, what he sets up, is, he wants, the producer is played by Zero Mostel. His name is Max Bialystock. And Max Bialystock is a failed producer. He can never make any money. And then, Gene Wilder, in his first role, Gene Wilder comes to do his books. And he says to him, “You know, a person can make more money out of a flop than out of a success, provided the play closes on day one. Because if you get 100 people to invest at 50% each, you make a fortune, and then we will run away.” But, of course, you can imagine what happens. They find the worst writer, a Nazi, who has written a musical about Adolf Hitler, called, “Springtime for Hitler.” They find the worst director in Hollywood, in New York, they find the worst actor. And you know what happens. It becomes a hit. And this is “The Producers.” Now, a lot of people didn’t like it, because they said, “You cannot make fun of horror.” Now, it’s an interesting debate, and probably now isn’t the time to have it, but I do want you to think about it. I remember when I first went to see it, in fact, Rabbi Jeremy Rosen was in the party, group of us went.
And I liked it, he hated it. And Mel Brooks once said, “I’m going to use my art to show up prejudice and horror.” And if you think about “Blazing Saddles,” that’s what he did with the African American community. He makes fun of every genre. And, of course, in “The Producers,” he’s making, within “The Producers,” he’s making fun of Busby Berkeley musicals. So, what I’m going to do is show you what has now become a total cult movie. It’s an interesting debate, which, maybe, Wendy, it’s something we should have at some time. Can humour deal with horror? Don’t forget that Mel Brooks was with the liberation forces on the liberation of Dachau. And he once said, “I’m going to tell the story,” to a very urbane Swedish filmmaker who was interviewing him. And he said, “What’s the secret of your art, Mister Brooks?” He said, “I’m going to tell the story of what your people did to my people.” Always the throwaway line. But don’t forget, it was his company that produced “The Elephant Man.” So interesting, and he and Zero together, and, of course, with the brilliant Gene Wilder. So let’s see some extracts from “The Producers.” And it starts with the meeting between Gene Wilder and Max Bialystock. And by the way, Mel Brooks based the character, Max Bialystock, on somebody he met on his way up. So let’s have a look at a series of clips from the wonderful, for me, “Producers.” ♪ Prisoners of love ♪ ♪ Blue skies above ♪ ♪ ‘Cause we’re still prisoners of love ♪ ♪ Oh, you can lock us up ♪
It’s so simple. Step one, we find the worst play in the world, a surefire flop. Step two, I raise a million bucks. A lot of little old ladies in the world. Step three, you go back to working the books, phoney lists of backers, one for the government, one for us. You can do it, Bloom! You’re a wizard! Step four, we open on Broadway, and before you can say step five, we close on Broadway! Step six, we take our million bucks, and we fly to Rio de Janeiro! ♪ Rio, Rio by the sea, oh ♪
Mister Bialystock, wait a minute, Bialystock, please, no, wait. ♪ Oh me oh ♪ ♪ Oh my oh, our Rio ♪
You’re holding me too tight. ♪ Hurry up, I need you, oh me ♪
I’m an honest man. You don’t understand!
No, Bloom, you don’t understand! This is faith, this is destiny, this is kismet! There’s no avoiding it.
Mister Bialystock, not more than five minutes ago, I doctored your books. That, sir, is the ultimate extent of my criminal life.
Whoa! I want that money!
Oh, I fell on my keys. ♪ Us up and lose the key ♪ ♪ But hearts in ♪
This is where he’s finding the worst director.
Well, what do you think, Mister Bloom?
Where do you keep your wallet?
It’s gorgeous! It’s gorgeous. You couldn’t have picked a better colour. It brings out your eyes. Let’s face it, Roger, that dress is you.
You really think it brings out my eyes?
Oh.
We can’t tell a thing without your wig. As far as I’m concerned, you’re only half dressed.
Mm-hm, well, if you’re so worried about the wig, get it, oh Wicked Witch of the West.
Light his cigarette. He likes you.
I don’t want to.
Didn’t I meet you on a summer cruise?
Mm. I’ve never been on a summer cruise.
Aw, quel dommage. ♪ Prisoners of love ♪
Oh, thank you, thank you so very much. We’re going to sing. I’d like to, if I may, I’d like to call on my group. They kind of help me a little. Group, hey, come on, fellas! I would like to sing this song. It’s about love, and hate. Psychedelically speaking, I am talking about the power. ♪ Love power ♪ ♪ I’m talkin’ ‘about love power ♪ ♪ The power of a sweet flower ♪ ♪ Is going to rule the earth ♪ ♪ And there’ll be a great rebirth ♪ ♪ Love is the flower that is mine ♪ ♪ When I’m walkin’ with my darlin’ ♪ ♪ And we’re holding hands ♪ ♪ And life is fine ♪ ♪ ‘Cause she understands ♪ ♪ A-walkin’ down the sunny street ♪ ♪ Givin’ pretty flowers to the people that we meet ♪ ♪ And I give a flower to the big fat cop ♪ ♪ He takes his club and he beats me up ♪ ♪ I give a flower to the garbage man ♪ ♪ He stuffs my girl in the garbage can ♪ ♪ And I give it to the landlord when the rent comes ‘round ♪ ♪ He throws it in the toilet and he flush it down ♪ ♪ It goes into the sewer ♪ ♪ With the yuck running through her ♪ ♪ And it runs into the river that we drink ♪ ♪ Hey world, you stink ♪ ♪ Man, it’s later than you think ♪ ♪ Girl, you got just one more chance ♪ ♪ Mm, come on, baby, while I dance ♪ ♪ Love, love power ♪ ♪ I’m talkin’ ‘about love power ♪ ♪ The power of a little flower ♪ ♪ You don’t think about no little flowers ♪ ♪ Oh no, all you think about is guns ♪ ♪ If everybody in the world today ♪ ♪ Had a flower instead of a gun ♪ ♪ There would be no wars ♪ ♪ There would be one big smell-in ♪ ♪ Just of flowers ♪ ♪ Hey, man ♪ ♪ Blue skies above ♪
And he takes him on to be Hitler, of course. And this is the opening sequence. ♪ For Hitler and Germany ♪ ♪ Deutschland is happy and gay ♪ ♪ We’re marching to a faster pace ♪ ♪ Look out, here comes the master race ♪ ♪ Springtime for Hitler and Germany ♪ ♪ Winter for Poland and France ♪ ♪ Springtime for Hitler and Germany ♪ ♪ Come on, Germans, go into your dance ♪ ♪ I was born in Dusseldorf ♪ ♪ And that is why they call me Rolf ♪ ♪ Don’t be stupid, be a smarty ♪ ♪ Come and join the Nazi party ♪
All right, I think we can stop it there, Karina. Karina, let’s stop it there. And those of you who haven’t seen it, as I said, it’s incredibly controversial, but I want to read to you what Mel Brooks said about it. “More than anything, the Holocaust is probably the greatest outrage of the 20th century. There is nothing to compare with it. And so, what can I do about it? If I get on a soapbox, and wax eloquently, it’ll be blown away in the wind. But if I do 'Springtime for Hitler,’ it will never be forgotten. I think you can bring down totalitarian regimes faster with ridicule than you can with invective.” Now, as I said, it’s controversial, but the jury is open on that. But if you haven’t seen “The Producers,” watch it. So, his career continues, and, but as he gets older, there are less and less parts. And I suppose the last film that I really want to direct you to is 1976, “The Front,” Woody Allen’s “The Front,” directed by Martin Ritt, written by Walter Bernstein. And the point about it, nearly everyone in it have been blacklisted in McCarthy times. And in the closing credits, you see the credits of the people in the film, followed by the blacklisted 19 of them. Now, the story of “The Front,” many good writers, as I’ve already told you, managed to keep working, using someone else’s affront.
And in the film, Woody Allen plays a guy who takes bets, illegal bets. He is a front for friends of his who are writers, and he really gets involved. He goes to see the great comedian, played by Zero Mostel, Hecky Brown. He is a comedian, who is now doing the Borscht Belt, once the greatest comedian in New York, but he’s being blacklisted because he once marched in a May Day parade, this is the film script, and subscribed to “The Daily Worker.” He said, “I only did it to impress a woman” he fancied. And what happens is that Hecky Brown, he plays in the Catskills, and the manager of the hotel cheats him out of the money, and they have a big row, and he says, “You’ll never work again.” And there’s this terrible scene that I’m going to show you, where Hecky Brown, he can no longer feed his family. He’s going to go into a hotel, and I’ll show you the hotel scene. But what happens in the rest of the film is that, gradually, the character played by Woody Allen, Howard Prince, he gradually, he’s doing so much writing for Hollywood, all of the, four of his best friends have all been blacklisted, and he even finds the beautiful WASP girl. And there’s a wonderful line, where she sits opposite him, and says, “In my family,” she said, “You know, in my family, we always had to use the right knife and fork.” And he said, “Funny, in my family, it was a sin to buy retail.” It was the Woody Allen shtick. But in the end, he goes before the Committee of Un-American Activities, and when he’s asked to name names, he actually, and excuse my language, he says, “You can all go and fuck off.” And basically, he goes to jail, but he goes to jail a hero. And now I’m going to show you a brilliant scene, again, with Zero Mostel playing Hecky Brown, the tragic comedian, and what happens to him as a result of the blacklist. So, can we just see the scene from “The Front,” please?
Thank you, sir.
Okay, if you could stop that, Karina. Okay, this is towards the end of his career. He made a couple of Muppet shows, he was sometimes on television, but there was never the starring roles. And he was actually, came to London to play Shylock in a version put together by Arnold Wesker. He had gone on a very crash diet. He was over 300 pounds. He wanted to lose about 100 pounds. It was all too crash. He finished up in hospital. He had a heart attack. And if we could see the last slide, please. Arnold Wesker wrote that very good book, “The Birth of Shylock and The Death of Zero Mostel.” Isn’t it fascinating? He dies when he was about to play a version of Shylock in “The Merchant of Venice.” So, I’ll stop there. As I said, he’s always been a hero of mine, and, I think, one of the great actors of our time. So, thank you very much. Let’s have a look at the questions.
Q&A and Comments:
And Myrna said, “We had the extraordinary experience to see Zero in the pre-Broadway run of ‘Fiddler.’ No one else ever came close after that. And Orson Welles denounced Elia Kazan for naming names.”
And Sally’s saying she’s very thrilled that the website is soon up. I hope you are listening to this, Wendy, because you’ve done such an amazing job.
Arlene, “On our second date, my future husband took me to see ‘Fiddler.’ Several months later, we were eating at Bernstein on Essex, and Zero Mostel and his wife were eating there. I regret I was too embarrassed to ask for his autograph.” Fantastic.
Karen is saying, “The song, ‘Strange Fruit’ is important to the Civil Rights Movement.” The fruit, of course, refers to men being hanged on the trees. And yes, of course, and it’s important to remember that people like Zero Mostel, they fought the fight.
“The House Un-American Activities.” Thank you, Karen. Watching Zero do Tevye gave him goosebumps. “Sunday at 8:00 PM for an hour.”
Q: Oh, was that “The Ed Sullivan Show”?
A: Yes, it was a Sunday night.
Carol says, “That’s what we did growing up. Saw many firsts on ‘The Ed Sullivan Show.’ He was on CBS.” “As someone born in Brooklyn, who lived in many Jewish neighbourhoods, I’m wondering which Jewish neighbourhood he was born in.” I’ll check that out.
Yes, Naomi Toronto, “Yes, Trudy, every Sunday at eight, ‘Ed Sullivan,’ as my bubby called it,” yes.
Yes, “‘Strange Fruit,’ it was written by Abe Meeropol, who adopted the Rosenberg children.” Yes, of course! And, if you think about, and if, those of you who listened, Anne Sebba gave a lecture on the death of Ethel Rosenberg. And, of course, Meeropol was that incredible character in it. So, you can always get hold of Anne’s lecture.
Again, yes, Abe Meeropol. In fact, he probably deserves a whole session to himself. “The theme song for Robin Hood was sung by Dick James.” Yes, also blacklisted. Yes, of course, the play originally derived from “Ulysses in Nighttown.” The nightgown was a parody of the original play, yes.
This is Stewart. “Elia Kazan did testify before HUAC, and gave some names by protecting others. Nearly half a century later, his anti-communist testimony continued to cause a controversy. When Kazan was awarded an honorary Oscar, dozens of actors chose not to applaud, as 250 demonstrators picket the event.” Yes, it was a terrible, terrible time.
Yes, and, of course, Ron, Joseph Losey moved to the UK because of the blacklist, and made many of his great films. One of my favourite films, “The Servant,” of course, is made by Losey in London.
“In the original story, unlike the play, one of the daughters of Tevye, the one who marries a non-Jew, comes back to the family,” yes. Oh yes, Cheryl is now giving us the information. “He lived in the Bel Nor, like Isaac Bashevis Singer.”
Q: “Did Jerome Robbins name Zero at HUAC?”
A: No. No, he didn’t. But the point was that Zero was just angry with anyone who did.
Q: Shelly, “My husband, at 15, saw Zero in ‘Fiddler.’ How on Earth did a play so ethnically Jewish ever get made? Was there controversy about the change of the ending, about acceptance of the intermarriage?”
A: You know, it’s interesting. Why is “Fiddler” so popular? It ran in Japan for two years. But it’s also, another story which is also very, very Jewish, is, of course, “The Algel.” If you think about the first ever talkie, the jazz singer, but they’re immigrant stories, aren’t they? They’re stories of people in trouble and what happens to them in the end. They flee to the land of the free, to America. I think that’s what makes them universally popular, because they tell a story. They tell an incredible story.
“Gene Wilder previously performed in ‘Bonnie and Clyde.’” That is right, yeah. “‘The Fiddler’ score was written by Sheldon Harnick and Jerry Bock. Their earlier works were also great. ‘Fiorello’ won a Pulitzer surprise, and ‘She Loves Me’ is an absolute gem that’s been revived many times. ‘The Rothchilds’ were the last musical they wrote together.” Thanks for that, Ron.
“Remember the TV show, ‘Hogan’s Heroes,’ which made fun of the Nazis, but really didn’t underscore the horror?” Is that a critique of the show? “According to Ellie Vecil’s son, Ellie Vecil found ‘The Producers’ and ‘Springtime for Hitler’ hilarious.” You see, it’s complicated. But I did go with a friend of mine who is, unfortunately, no longer with us. She was a survivor, and she didn’t find it funny at all. It’s such a complicated story. I believe Mel Brooks’s intentions were totally good. I think he did it because he believed it was the right thing to do, to make fun. Look, think what he did in “Blazing Saddles.” I mean, it’s a right of the film, and it mocks the perpetrators. On the other hand, are there certain subjects that are so sacred that we should never touch them? I mean, it’s obviously an important debate.
“Lyric Opera of Chicago did ‘Fiddler’ last season,” said Barbara.
“It was a Barrie Kosky production that premiered at the Komische Oper Berlin in 2017. It won a Tony Award. It was full of pathos.” Actually, you’ve just echoed a memory. I went to see “The Producers” when it opened in Berlin. I was with a group. And what was unbelievably bizarre, there was a whole group of us, all Jewish, we were on a tour of Germany. Can you imagine? And we go to see “The Producers.” Because the wearing of a swastika is banned in Germany, the actors wore pretzel arm bands. “
‘The Producers’ and the limit of humour is wonderfully explored in the 2016 movie, ‘The Last Laugh.’”
“Every anti-Semite should watch the clip, ‘Springtime for Hitler,’ the best response to Hitler and Nazism.” That says Monty Rita agrees.
“The line from Woody Allen was from ‘Annie Hall,’ not ‘The Front.’” It’s also, there is a line like that, with Florence, in that film as well. Check it out. Thank you.
Q: “How’d you find the amazing film clips?”
A: They’re on YouTube. And I’m very lucky that Karina helped me put them all together.
“Zero and his brothers were guests at the Tannersville Hotel in the Catskills where my husband was a waiter. They had a food fight.” Oh, how wonderful, Barbara.
And this is Owen, S. Owen. “I saw Zero in rehearsal studies in the early ‘60s, rehearsing.” Oh, wow. Wow.
Q: “What condition did he have that caused his big bulgy eyes?”
A: I don’t know. “My aunt called Ed Sullivan, Ed Solomon.” Yes, that’s “Fiddler.” “What you have described is a true mensch, unlike many who profess to be such, who wear a keep-up.”
This is Neville Schumann. “I worked closely with Arnold Wesker, and the sudden death of Zero Mostel and the closure of his Shylock probably prevented Arnold receiving the international claim he so richly deserved.
Q: Can you talk more about Wesker on another occasion?”
A: Not me, but I know someone who can. Good idea, Neville.
“Hard to empathise with any of those caricature individuals overacting.” That’s not my view.
This is Mira. “I grew up around my father’s concentration camp caricatures, painted under Nazi noses. He drew them every night in the dark of his bunk bed. When his artist friends got caught and were never again seen, together with my mother, they cut the pictures to little puzzle-size fragments, and my mother threw them through a crack in the wooden floor of her barrack. My father was blamed many times for making fun in horrible times. And all he could reply was, 'I drew what I saw.’ If you want to know more about it, Google Eric Lichtbalesky. His body of the work from this time was recognised as the most impressive work of art from the Holocaust.” Goodness, I’ve heard of him!
Mira, that is extraordinary. Again, lockdown, what can I say about it? What can I say about all of you? The stories you can tell.
“Holocaust survivors would never laugh at the Holocaust.” Not necessarily true, not necessarily true. There was humour in the Holocaust. There were people there who told jokes. The human story, it’s terribly complicated, Yolanda. It’s so complicated. You know, people wanted to remain human. That’s, I’ve worked, because of my very strange career, I’ve worked much with survivors. And in fact, my closest friend is a survivor. And we talk about these things now. We talk about them a lot. And she always says to me, “We wanted to be human. The Nazis tried to dehumanise us. In the end, it was them who were dehumanised.”
Carl Fnertbaum, “And now you can’t watch ‘Blazing Saddles’ because it’s too politically incorrect. How about that for irony? Wanting to expose prejudice through satire, but being muzzled for doing so.” I didn’t know it had been. Is it one of those under threat? It’s fascinating, isn’t it? Look, it’s a big debate, and Wendy and I are actually debating whether to have the debate.
Q: “What happened to Zero’s children?”
A: I don’t know.
Oh, yes, of course, “Mel Brooks made another comedy making fun of the Nazis, ‘To Be or Not to Be.’” The original “To Be or Not to Be” was Jack Benny and Carole Lombard. And the problem with that, it was made in 1942, and it mocks, and it was about a group of touring actors in Poland. And because nobody really knew what was going on, Jack Benny later said he wish he’d never made it. And, of course, Mel Brooks and Anne Bancroft did the remake.
Q: What do I think of the movie, “Life is beautiful”? “I hated it.”
A: So did I. So did I, Yolanda. That was a completely different story. I went with a group of survivors to see “Life is Beautiful,” and one of them wrote me a letter afterwards. He said, “That film was pornographic. I can remember the pain in my father’s eyes when he couldn’t hide the truth from me.” That’s a completely different story. That’s a different story.
“Josh Mostel was an actor.” Thank you, Arlene.
I think that’s it, everybody. Anyway, thank you all very much. I wish you good night, and take care of yourself. And, again, Karina, thank you so much.