This would never have made it past the producers, the Breen Office, or the German representatives in Hollywood a year or two later. It opens with what appears to be an outlandish parody of Jewish life in 1780s Prussia. The father (Arliss) is a money lender or pawn broker or something, overacting to beat the band. He and his family run around their humble household when they see the tax collector coming. Arliss wrings his hands and in a quivering voice orders the rest to hide the silverware and the roast, and to break out the second set of books. The sneering tax collector is amenable to a bribe, and when he leaves, the family cackled over how they outwitted him and saved money on the deal. It sets the stereotype in cement -- greedy, money-mongering, clannish cheaters.
It develops that there were reasons enough for the family's worry. The Jews of Frankfort all live in "Jew Street" and are taxed at a far higher rate than the mayor himself. The government is corrupt and openly anti-Semitic. But all that has little impact on the unwittingly comic scene of the poor Rothschild's noisily dashing about and trying to hoodwink the tax collector. The old man dies at the end, advising his sons to go out into the world and establish a vast banking empire because "money is the only power we have." The four or five sons follow his orders and we skip to the Napoleonic period an focus on Nathan Rothschild (Arliss, again). The family is fabulously rich and it becomes even more so by betting against Napoleon in both wars. Despite the anti-Semitic feelings among the Allied leaders, Nathan bets everything he has and manages to save all of Europe from extinction.
They've done what they could with the story but banking is essentially a boring business, I guess. I certainly have no interest in it and there were some arguments about points being up or down that left me in the dust. There is a sub-theme done with quiet subtlety. Nathan's daughter, Loretta Young, wants to marry a Captain of the Guards, Robert Young, a Gentile. And Nathan is faced with the same problem as Tevyev in "Fiddler on the Roof," the best line of which came from a young Russian who asks one of Tevyev's daughters, "Do you feel about me the way that they feel about you?" When Benny develops a warm feeling for a shiksa in "The Benny Goodman Story", Goodman's mother phrases the issue in terms of social class: "Bagels and caviar don't mix." The underlying questions have to do with the group loyalty of minority groups who have been victimized and the social borders they themselves create, but that's another story.
There has always been intolerance, here and in Europe. Minorities are often discriminated against. But my understanding is that the Jews of Germany and elsewhere, like the Rothschilds were doing a pretty good job of being assimilated -- poets, doctors, bankers, scientists -- until the changing times brought disaster. By contrast, the Jews of Eastern Europe held niche occupations in smaller cities and towns. My immigrant German grandfather lived in one of those villages and I once asked him about the Jews when he was growing up. Of course there were Jews. They were money lenders. Why were the Jews the money lenders? "They ver dzha only pipple in dzha village you could trust." He was entirely serious.
Didn't the Rothschilds make fine wine too? I'd like to learn more about that. Wine is more interesting than banking.
It develops that there were reasons enough for the family's worry. The Jews of Frankfort all live in "Jew Street" and are taxed at a far higher rate than the mayor himself. The government is corrupt and openly anti-Semitic. But all that has little impact on the unwittingly comic scene of the poor Rothschild's noisily dashing about and trying to hoodwink the tax collector. The old man dies at the end, advising his sons to go out into the world and establish a vast banking empire because "money is the only power we have." The four or five sons follow his orders and we skip to the Napoleonic period an focus on Nathan Rothschild (Arliss, again). The family is fabulously rich and it becomes even more so by betting against Napoleon in both wars. Despite the anti-Semitic feelings among the Allied leaders, Nathan bets everything he has and manages to save all of Europe from extinction.
They've done what they could with the story but banking is essentially a boring business, I guess. I certainly have no interest in it and there were some arguments about points being up or down that left me in the dust. There is a sub-theme done with quiet subtlety. Nathan's daughter, Loretta Young, wants to marry a Captain of the Guards, Robert Young, a Gentile. And Nathan is faced with the same problem as Tevyev in "Fiddler on the Roof," the best line of which came from a young Russian who asks one of Tevyev's daughters, "Do you feel about me the way that they feel about you?" When Benny develops a warm feeling for a shiksa in "The Benny Goodman Story", Goodman's mother phrases the issue in terms of social class: "Bagels and caviar don't mix." The underlying questions have to do with the group loyalty of minority groups who have been victimized and the social borders they themselves create, but that's another story.
There has always been intolerance, here and in Europe. Minorities are often discriminated against. But my understanding is that the Jews of Germany and elsewhere, like the Rothschilds were doing a pretty good job of being assimilated -- poets, doctors, bankers, scientists -- until the changing times brought disaster. By contrast, the Jews of Eastern Europe held niche occupations in smaller cities and towns. My immigrant German grandfather lived in one of those villages and I once asked him about the Jews when he was growing up. Of course there were Jews. They were money lenders. Why were the Jews the money lenders? "They ver dzha only pipple in dzha village you could trust." He was entirely serious.
Didn't the Rothschilds make fine wine too? I'd like to learn more about that. Wine is more interesting than banking.