Abstract
In his survey on “how the Jews invented Hollywood,” Neal Gabler famously notes several possible explanations for the conspicuous presence of Jewish immigrants in the American film industry. He convincingly relates their success in the film business to their social and cultural background (Jewish producers had, for instance, a background in retail trade and an intimate, empathetic knowledge of “the dreams and aspirations” of the target audience). However, Gabler emphasizes, “in order to understand what may have been the chief appeal of the movies to these Jews, one must understand their hunger for assimilation and the way in which the movies could uniquely satisfy that hunger.”1 In many respects, this injunction may likewise be applied to Jewish involvement in the pre-1933 German film industry. Just as in Hollywood, assimilation was a key component in the works of Weimar Jewish filmmakers; and, like the “American Dream,” the defining collective “dream” of post—World War I Germany was often formulated and displayed through the narratives and visual imagery contrived by (first and second generation) immigrant Jews. But whereas Hollywood’s moguls “wanted to be regarded as American, not Jews,” the Jews who worked in the studios on the outskirts of Berlin explicitly promoted the “Bourgeois Dream.” They contemplated and advocated assimilation within the (arguably imagined) class of progressive, educated urbanites, rather than within the German national community.
Would you really expect the filmmakers of Berlin, who are so excited about themselves, to be able to understand other German tribes?
—Anonymous, Deutsche Filmzeitung
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Notes
Neal Gabler, An Empire of Their Own: How the Jews Invented Hollywood (New York: Random House, 1988).
The soundtrack in Departure, the music emanating from the other room, reminds viewers that, even in their most intimate moments, the protagonists are not alone in their room (indeed, the music is accompanied by ominous shadows on the wall, cast by the eavesdropping neighbors outside the door). In On the Other Side of the Street the girl’s violent pimp bursts through the door to claim his share and to urge the protagonist to obtain the necklace. Siodmak returned to this principle in his 1931 Interrogation (Voruntersuchung), directly referring in this case to Germany’s deteriorating judicial system. See Ofer Ashkenazi, “Prisoners’ Fantasies: The Longing for Law and Order in Weimar Film,” Journal of European Studies 39(3) (Fall 2009): 290–304.
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© 2012 Ofer Ashkenazi
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Ashkenazi, O. (2012). Epilogue. In: Weimar Film and Modern Jewish Identity. Studies in European Culture and History. Palgrave Macmillan, New York. https://doi.org/10.1057/9781137010841_6
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DOI: https://doi.org/10.1057/9781137010841_6
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