A VINTAGE ORIGINAL PHOTOGRAPH OF EDWARD G. ROBINSON ORIGINALLY FROM THE ARCHIVES OF THE SAN FRANCISCO PRESS

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HOLLYWOOD, Jan. 26 —Edward G. Robinson, whose tough, sinister appearance on movie screens concealed the soul of a gentle man, died today at the age of 79.

Mr. Robinson succumbed at Mount Sinai Hospital where he had undergone tests in recent weeks. The cause of death was not immediately determined.

Man of Great Kindness

By ALDEN WHITMAN

Edward G. Robinson was a skilled actor of the stage and screen whose vivid portrayal of motion picture gangsters, among them Little Caeser, during the nineteen‐thirties marked powerful mobsters who ruled the underworld during the Prohibition era.

So effective was the Robinson interpretation of the gartgster that many of the underworld characters found themselves affecting the Robinson character—chomping down on cigar butts while snarling threats and orders out of the sides of their mouths.

But while Mr. Robinson was making his mark on others he, himself, remained strangely unaffected. In real life he was a man of great kindness and courtesy whose generosity scarcely knew bounds. Between 1939 and 1949 he made more than 850 contributions totaling above $250,000 to relief and entertainment agencies, to cultural, educational and religious groups.

His art collection comprised perhaps the outstanding ground of privately owned paintings in the United States.

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During the course of a marital settlement it was sold in 1957 for $3,250,000.

Mr. Robinson was born Dec. 12, 1893, as Emanuel Goldenberg in Bucharest, Rumania.

One of Mr. Robinson's broth ers was hit on the head with a rock during a schoolboy pogrom and years later he died in America, probably from the affects of the blow.

To escape this persecution the family managed to scrape together the fare for steerage passage and came to the United states. “At Ellis Island I was born again,” Mr. Robinson wrote later. “Life for me began when I was 10 years old.”

Made Speeches to Friends

As a boy Mr. Robinson, as soon as he had mastered English, made speeches to his family and friends. His favorite was Theodore Roosevelt's second inaugural address, which he had committed to memory.

He hoped to become a criminal lawyer “to defend the human beings who were abused. and exploited.” With this purpose he entered Townsend Harris High School and after that City College: It was at City College that the youth decided to forego his law career to be an actor. He loved to perform before people.

But Mr. Robinson's study of the theatre told him that there had been many little men in the theatre. He won a scholarship at the American Academy of Dramatic Art with a sizzling and effective delivery of the Brutus and Cassius quarrel scene from “Julius Caesar.”

He was 19 when he entered dramatic school and shortly thereafter changed his name to Robinson “a name I had heard while sitting in the balcony of the Criterion Theatre.”

He played in stock in Cincinnati, in vaudeville as a Chinese man in a skit at Hammerstein's. He finally broke into the legitimate theater in 1915 in a play called “Under Fire.” He got the part because he was multilingual, an attribute called for in the script, Role followed role and the youngster received many good notices.

He joined the Theatre Guild and played a great variety of roles in such productions as “The Adding Machine,” “The Brothers Karamazov,” “Right You Are, If You Think You Are” and “Juarez and Maximilian.”

He was starred for the first time in “The Kibitzer” —a play of which he was the co‐author.

In January, 1927, Mr. Robinson married Gladys Lloyd, an actress.

Mr. Robinson had experimented with several screen roles in silent pictures but he was not happy with the result. With the addition of sound to the shadows, however, Mr. Robinson's interest was renewed and he tried his first talking‐picture “The Hole in the Wall.

There followed “The Widow from Chicago” and a short time later, in 1931, “Little Caesar.” Of “Little Caesar” a critic for The New York Times wrote:

“‘Little Caesar’ becomes at Mr. Robinson's hands a figure out of a Greek tragedy, a cold, ignorant, merciless killer, driven on and on by an insatiable lust for power, the plaything of force that is greater than himself.”

The film contained a climatic line that itself became a classic, Little Caesar's parting words as he lay slumped under a billboard after he had been shot by the police:

“Mother of God, is this the end of Rico?”

It was sometimes said that Mr. Robinson was selected to play the role of Little Caesar because of a resemblance to Al Capone, the Chicago vice baron. Mr. Robinson doubter this theory, and there was no real‐life resemblance. Holly wood makeup artists, however always managed to make Mr Robinson look as sinister a Capone was reputed to be.

A more reasonable theory was that Hollywood sough him out because of his succes as Nick Scarsi, a character a play called “The Racket. This play was so real, Mr Robinson once remarked, that it could not be produced Chicago.

In any event, his portrayal of Little Caesar came to be considered a classic, and there followed others in the curledlip mold—“Smart Money,” “Five Star Final,” “Bullets or Ballots,” “Kid Galahad” and “A Slight Case of Murder.”

The actor thought “Five Star Final” one of his finest toughguy pictures. In it he played Randall, the editor of a muckraking tabloid. This film, released in 1931, along with many of his other movies, has been revived from time to time on television.

Mr. Robinson's first real departure from his two‐fisted type of role on the screen was “Dr. Ehrlich's Magic Bullet” in 1940, and even this film about syphillis was billed as “the war against the greatest public enemy of all.”

From 1929 to 1966 Mr. Robinson appeared in more than 100 films. His name, until recent years, usually meant good box office. In all, his films grossed well over $50‐million, and this figure is a modest estimate. His own earnings were high and he lived appropriately.

Mr. Robinson was the first Hollywood star to entertain in France after the invasion of Normandy. He sold war bonds and it was said he turned his regular weekly radio dramatic show “Big” Town” into a soap box in favor of the American way.

The American Legion gave the program a citation and he was commended for his “outstanding contribution to Americanism through his stirring patriotic appeals...”

But because he had allowed his name to be linked with so many causes, inevitably there were those with a Communist tinge. Mr. Robinson was named in “Red Channels” in connection with 11 Communist front organizations.

But Mr. Robinson carried his case to the House Un‐American Activities Committee and eventually won a clean bill of health.

After 28 years of marriage Mr. Robinson was sued for divorce in 1955 and his wife was granted an interlocutory divorce decree the next year.

After 28 years as a movie actor Mr. Robinson returned to the stage in “Middle of the Night” and scored a success. At the age of 63 he was forceful and vital figure on the stage and the youthful cast said that they found it difficult to match his boundless energy.

In “Middle of the Night” he portrayed an aging widower who married a much younger woman. Early in 1958, while he was still appearing in the Paddy Chayefsky play, Mr. Robinson was married to. Jane Bodenheimer, a 38‐year‐old dress designer known professionally as Jane Arden.

Appeared in 100 Films

After his stage success, the actor performed occasionally on television and played featured roles in several other movies. In all he appeared in 40 Broadway plays and more than 100 films. Among his most recent movies were “A Boy Ten Feet Tall,” “Cheyenne Autumn,” “The Cincinnati Kid” and “Sammy Going South.” It was while making this picture in 1964 that he suffered a mild heart attack.

Mr. Robinson was an excellent actor and was to have received a special Oscar for his “outstanding contribution to motion pictures” at the Academy Awards ceremony March 27. It would have been his first Oscar.

He received, a number of other citations, however, including the Legion of Honor, the Eleanor Roosevelt Humanitarian Award and a medal from City College, his alma mater. At the bestowal ceremony for the medal in 1965 he yielded to student demands for a glimpse of his “Little Caesar” style.

“So you want to be an actor?” he demanded of one sophomore, with a finger jab in the chest. “Well, stick to your schooling, kid!”

Surviving are his widow; a son by his former marriage, Edward G. Robinson Jr.; granddaughter, Francesca, and a brother, William Goldberg.

Funeral services for Mr. Robinson will be held Sunday at 2 P.M. at Temple Israel, 7300 Hollywood Boulevard, with Dr. Max Nussbaum officiating. The eulogy will be delivered by Charlton Heston.

Serving as pallbearers will be Jack L. Warner, Hal B. Wallis, Mervyn Leroy, George Burns, Sam Jaffe, Frank Sinatra, Jack Karp and Alan Simpson.

Internment will be private in New York Monday.

Emanuel Goldenberg arrived in the United States from Romania at age ten, and his family moved into New York's Lower East Side. He took up acting while attending City College, abandoning plans to become a rabbi or lawyer. The American Academy of Dramatic Arts awarded him a scholarship, and he began work in stock, with his new name, Edward G. Robinson (the "G" stood for his birth surname), in 1913. Broadway was two years later; he worked steadily there for 15 years. His work included "The Kibitzer", a comedy he co-wrote with Jo Swerling. His film debut was a small supporting part in the silent The Bright Shawl (1923), but it was with the coming of sound that he hit his stride. His stellar performance as snarling, murderous thug Rico Bandello in Little Caesar (1931)--all the more impressive since in real life Robinson was a sophisticated, cultured man with a passion for fine art--set the standard for movie gangsters, both for himself in many later films and for the industry. He portrayed the title character in several biographical works, such as Dr. Ehrlich's Magic Bullet (1940) and A Dispatch from Reuters (1940). Psychological dramas included Flesh and Fantasy (1943), Double Indemnity (1944), The Woman in the Window (1944)and Scarlet Street (1945). Another notable gangster role was in Key Largo (1948). He was "absolved" of allegations of Communist affiliation after testifying as a friendly witness for the House Un-American Activities Committee during the McCarthy hysteria of the early 1950s. In 1956 he had to sell off his extensive art collection in a divorce settlement and also had to deal with a psychologically troubled son. In 1956 he returned to Broadway in "Middle of the Night". In 1973 he was awarded a special, posthumous Oscar for lifetime achievement.

Edward Goldenberg Robinson was born Emanuel Goldenberg on December 12, 1893, in Bucharest, Romania. In 1903, Robinson’s family immigrated to New York City. Although, he attended the City College of New York, he soon won an American Academy of Dramatic Arts scholarship to pursue a career in acting. It was then that he changed his name to Edward G. Robinson.

Robinson began his acting career in 1913 and made his Broadway debut in 1915, in plays that included “The Kibitzer” (1929). In 1923, he made his named debut in the film The Bright Shawl. Although he only made three films prior to 1930, he left his stage career that same year and made fourteen films between 1930 and 1932. His performance as the gangster Rico Bandello in Little Caesar (1931) led to him being typecast as a ‘tough guy’ for much of his early career. Then in 1940, after his performance in Dr. Ehrlich’s Magic Bullet, Robinson expanded into daring psychological dramas, including Double Indemnity (1944).

During the 1950s McCarthy period , Robinson was blacklisted from film studios, after testifying in front of the House Un-American Activities Committee. This ended in 1956, when Cecil B. DeMille casted Robinson in The Ten Commandments. That same year he returned to Broadway in Middle of the Night. He was nominated for the 1956 Tony Award as Best Actor for Middle of the Night. Following his return to filmmaking, Robinson acted in some of his most notable roles, such as in the films Hole in the Head (1959) and The Cincinnati Kid (1965)

Robinson died on January 26, 1973, at the age of 79, from cancer. Two months after his death, Robinson was awarded an honorary “Lifetime Achievement” Oscar for his life’s dedication to the furthering of arts.

Edward G. Robinson (born Emanuel Goldenberg; Yiddish: ײמאַנועל גאָלדענבערג‎; December 12, 1893 – January 26, 1973) was a Romanian American actor of stage and screen during Hollywood's Golden Age. He appeared in 30 Broadway plays[1] and more than 100 films during a 50-year career[2] and is best remembered for his tough-guy roles as gangsters in such films as Little Caesar and Key Largo.

During the 1930s and 1940s, he was an outspoken public critic of fascism and Nazism, which were growing in strength in Europe leading up to World War II. His activism included contributing over $250,000 to more than 850 organizations involved in war relief, along with cultural, educational and religious groups. During the 1950s, he was called to testify at the House Un-American Activities Committee during the Red Scare, but was cleared of any Communist involvement.

Robinson's roles included an insurance investigator in the film noir Double Indemnity, Dathan (adversary of Moses) in The Ten Commandments, and his final performance in the science-fiction story Soylent Green.[3] Robinson received an Academy Honorary Award for his work in the film industry, which was awarded two months after he died in 1973. He is ranked number 24 in the American Film Institute's list of the 25 greatest male stars of Classic American cinema.

Contents

1 Early years and education

2 Career

2.1 Theatre

2.2 The Racket

2.3 Little Caesar

2.4 World War II

2.5 Post Warners

2.6 Greylisting

2.7 Supporting Actor

2.8 Radio

3 Personal life

4 Death

5 Political activism

6 In popular culture

7 Filmography

8 Radio appearances

9 See also

10 References

11 Further reading

12 External links

Early years and education

Robinson was born as Emanuel Goldenberg to a Yiddish-speaking Romanian-Jewish family in Bucharest, the son of Sarah (née Guttman) and Morris Goldenberg, a builder.[4]

After one of his brothers was attacked by an anti-semitic mob, the family decided to emigrate to the United States.[2] Robinson arrived in New York City on February 21, 1904.[5] "At Ellis Island I was born again", he wrote. "Life for me began when I was 10 years old."[2] He grew up on the Lower East Side,[6]:91 had his Bar Mitzvah at First Roumanian-American Congregation,[7] and attended Townsend Harris High School and then the City College of New York, planning to become a criminal attorney.[8] An interest in acting and performing in front of people led to him winning an American Academy of Dramatic Arts scholarship,[8] after which he changed his name to Edward G. Robinson (the G. standing for his original surname).[8]

He served in the United States Navy during World War I, but was never sent overseas.[9]

Career

Robinson in his breakout role, Little Caesar (1931)

Robinson in Billy Wilder's Double Indemnity (1944)

Robinson and Lynn Bari in Tampico (1944)

All My Sons (1948): Louisa Horton, Robinson, Chester Erskine (producer) and Burt Lancaster

Florence Henderson and Robinson on the set of Song of Norway (1969)

Theatre

He began his acting career in the Yiddish Theater District[10][11][12] in 1913, he made his Broadway debut in 1915.[2] He made his film debut in Arms and the Man (1916).

In 1923, he made his named debut as E. G. Robinson in the silent film, The Bright Shawl.[2]

The Racket

He played a snarling gangster in the 1927 Broadway police/crime drama The Racket, which led to his being cast in similar film roles, beginning with The Hole in the Wall (1929) with Claudette Colbert for Paramount.

One of many actors who saw his career flourish in the new sound film era rather than falter, he made only three films prior to 1930, but left his stage career that year and made 14 films between 1930 and 1932.

Robinson went to Universal for Night Ride (1930) and MGM for A Lady to Love (1930) directed by Victor Sjöström. At Universal he was in Outside the Law and East Is West (both 1930), then he did The Widow from Chicago (1931) at First National.

Little Caesar

Robinson was established as a film actor. What made him a star was an acclaimed performance as the gangster Caesar Enrico "Rico" Bandello in Little Caesar (1931) at Warner Bros.

Robinson signed a long term contract with Warners. They put him in another gangster film, Smart Money (1931), his only movie with James Cagney. He was reunited with Mervyn LeRoy, director of Little Caesar, in Five Star Final (1931), playing a journalist, and played a Tong gangster in The Hatchet Man (1932).

Robinson made a third film with LeRoy, Two Seconds (1932) then did a melodrama directed by Howard Hawks, Tiger Shark (1932).

Warners tried him in a biopic, Silver Dollar (1932), where Robinson played Horace Tabor, a comedy, The Little Giant (1933) and a romance, I Loved a Woman (1933).

Robinson was then in Dark Hazard (1934), and The Man with Two Faces (1934).

He went to Columbia for The Whole Town's Talking (1935), a comedy directed by John Ford. Sam Goldwyn borrowed him for Barbary Coast (1935), again directed by Hawks.

Back at Warners he did Bullets or Ballots (1936) then he went to Britain for Thunder in the City (1937). He made Kid Galahad (1937) with Bette Davis and Humphrey Bogart. MGM borrowed him for The Last Gangster (1937) then he did a comedy A Slight Case of Murder (1938). Again with Bogart in a supporting role, he was in The Amazing Dr. Clitterhouse (1938) then he was borrowed by Columbia for I Am the Law (1938).

World War II

At the time World War II broke out in Europe, he played an FBI agent in Confessions of a Nazi Spy (1939), the first American film which showed Nazism as a threat to the United States.

He volunteered for military service in June 1942 but was disqualified due to his age at 48,[13] although he became an active and vocal critic of fascism and Nazism during that period.[14]

MGM borrowed him for Blackmail, (1939). Then to avoid being typecast he played biomedical scientist and Nobel laureate Paul Ehrlich in Dr. Ehrlich's Magic Bullet (1940) and Paul Julius Reuter in A Dispatch from Reuter's (1940).[15] Both were biographies of prominent Jewish public figures. In between, he and Bogart were in Brother Orchid (1940).[15]

Robinson was teamed with John Garfield in The Sea Wolf (1941) and George Raft in Manpower (1941). He went to MGM for Unholy Partners (1942) and made a comedy Larceny, Inc. (1942).

Post Warners

Robinson was one of several stars in Tales of Manhattan (1942) and Flesh and Fantasy (1943).

He did war films: Destroyer (1943) at Columbia, and Tampico (1944) at Fox. At Paramount he was in Billy Wilder's Double Indemnity (1944) with Fred MacMurray and Barbara Stanwyck and at Columbia he was in Mr. Winkle Goes to War (1944). He then performed with Joan Bennett and Dan Duryea in Fritz Lang's The Woman in the Window (1944) and Scarlet Street (1945) where he played a criminal painter.

At MGM he was in Our Vines Have Tender Grapes (1945) then did Orson Welles' The Stranger (1946) with Welles and Loretta Young. Robinson followed it with a thriller The Red House (1947) and starred in an adaptation of All My Sons (1948).

Robinson appeared for director John Huston as gangster Johnny Rocco in Key Largo (1948), the last of five films he made with Humphrey Bogart and the only one in which Bogart did not play a supporting role.

He was in Night Has a Thousand Eyes in 1948 and House of Strangers in 1949.

Greylisting

Robinson found it hard to get work after his greylisting. He was in low budget films: Actors and Sin (1952), Vice Squad (1953), Big Leaguer (1953), The Glass Web (1953), Black Tuesday (1954), The Violent Men (1955), Tight Spot (1955), A Bullet for Joey (1955), Illegal (1955), and Hell on Frisco Bay (1955).

His career rehabilitation received a boost in 1954, when noted anti-communist director Cecil B. DeMille cast him as the traitorous Dathan in The Ten Commandments. The film was released in 1956, as was his psychological thriller Nightmare.

After a subsequent short absence from the screen, Robinson's film career—augmented by an increasing number of television roles—restarted for good in 1958/59, when he was second-billed after Frank Sinatra in the 1959 release A Hole in the Head.

Supporting Actor

Robinson went to Europe for Seven Thieves (1960). He had support roles in My Geisha (1962), Two Weeks in Another Town (1962), Sammy Going South (1963), The Prize (1963), Robin and the 7 Hoods (1964), Good Neighbor Sam (1964), Cheyenne Autumn (1964), and The Outrage (1964).

He had a key part in The Cincinnati Kid (1965) and was top billed in The Blonde from Peking and Grand Slam (1967).

Robinson was originally cast in the role of Dr. Zaius in Planet Of The Apes (1968) and even went as far to filming a screen test with Charlton Heston. However, Robinson dropped out from the project before production began citing heart problems and concerns over the long hours under the heavy ape makeup. He was replaced by Maurice Evans.

Later appearances included The Biggest Bundle of Them All (1968), Never a Dull Moment (1968), It's Your Move (1968), Mackenna's Gold (1969), and the Night Gallery episode “The Messiah on Mott Street" (1971).

The last scene Robinson filmed was a euthanasia sequence, with friend and co-star Charlton Heston, in the science fiction cult film Soylent Green (1973); he died only twelve days later.

Heston, as president of the Screen Actors Guild, presented Robinson with its annual award in 1969, "in recognition of his pioneering work in organizing the union, his service during World War II, and his 'outstanding achievement in fostering the finest ideals of the acting profession.'"[6]:124

Robinson was never nominated for an Academy Award, but in 1973 he was awarded an honorary Oscar in recognition that he had "achieved greatness as a player, a patron of the arts and a dedicated citizen ... in sum, a Renaissance man".[2] He had been notified of the honor, but died two months before the award ceremony, so the award was accepted by his widow, Jane Robinson.[2]

Radio

From 1937 to 1942, Robinson starred as Steve Wilson, editor of the Illustrated Press, in the newspaper drama Big Town.[16] He also portrayed hardboiled detective Sam Spade for a Lux Radio Theatre adaptation of The Maltese Falcon. During the 1940s he also performed on CBS Radio's "Cadena de las Américas" network broadcasts to South America in collaboration with Nelson Rockefeller's cultural diplomacy program at the U.S. State Department's Office of the Coordinator of Inter-American Affairs.[17]

Personal life

Robinson and his son Manny in a 1962 episode of Dick Powell's Zane Grey Theatre.

Robinson married his first wife, stage actress Gladys Lloyd, born Gladys Lloyd Cassell, in 1927; she was the former wife of Ralph L. Vestervelt and the daughter of Clement C. Cassell, an architect, sculptor and artist. The couple had one son, Edward G. Robinson, Jr. (a.k.a. Manny Robinson, 1933–1974), as well as a daughter from Gladys Robinson's first marriage.[18] In 1956 the couple divorced. In 1958 he married Jane Bodenheimer, a dress designer professionally known as Jane Arden. Thereafter he also maintained a home in Palm Springs, California.[19]

In noticeable contrast to many of his onscreen characters, Robinson was a sensitive, soft-spoken and cultured man who spoke seven languages.[2] Remaining a liberal Democrat, he attended the 1960 Democratic Convention in Los Angeles, California.[20] He was a passionate art collector, eventually building up a significant private collection. In 1956, however, he was forced to sell his collection to pay for his divorce settlement with Gladys Robinson; his finances had also suffered due to underemployment in the early 1950s.[6]:120

Death

Robinson died at Mount Sinai Hospital in Los Angeles of bladder cancer[21] on January 26, 1973. Services were held at Temple Israel in Los Angeles where Charlton Heston delivered the eulogy.[22]:131 Over 1,500 friends of Robinson attended with another 500 crowded outside.[6]:125 His body was then flown to New York where it was entombed in a crypt in the family mausoleum at Beth-El Cemetery in Brooklyn.[22]:131 Among his pallbearers were Jack L. Warner, Hal B. Wallis, Mervyn LeRoy, George Burns, Sam Jaffe, and Frank Sinatra.[2]

In October 2000, Robinson's image was imprinted on a U.S. postage stamp, its sixth in its Legends of Hollywood series.[6]:125[23]

Political activism

During the 1930s, Robinson was an outspoken public critic of fascism and Nazism, and donated more than $250,000 to 850 political and charitable groups between 1939 and 1949. He was host to the Committee of 56 who gathered at his home on December 9, 1938, signing a "Declaration of Democratic Independence" which called for a boycott of all German-made products.[14]

Although he tried to do so, he was unable to enlist in the military at the outbreak of World War II because of his age;[13] instead, the Office of War Information appointed him as a Special Representative based in London.[6]:106 From there, taking advantage of his multilingual skills, he delivered radio addresses in over six languages to countries in Europe which had fallen under Nazi domination.[6]:106 His talent as a radio speaker in the U.S. had previously been recognized by the American Legion, which had given him an award for his "outstanding contribution to Americanism through his stirring patriotic appeals."[6]:106 Robinson was also active with the Hollywood Democratic Committee, serving on its executive board in 1944, during which time he became an "enthusiastic" campaigner for Roosevelt's reelection that year.[6]:107 During the 1940s Robinson also contributed to the cultural diplomacy initiatives of Roosevelt's Office of the Coordinator of Inter-American Affairs in support of Pan-Americanism through his broadcasts to South America on the CBS "Cadena da las Américas" radio network.[24]

In early July 1944, less than a month after the Invasion of Normandy by Allied forces, Robinson traveled to Normandy to entertain the troops, becoming the first movie star to go there for the USO.[6]:106 He personally donated $100,000 ($1,500,000 in 2015 dollars) to the USO.[6]:107 After returning to the U.S. he continued his active involvement with the war effort by going to shipyards and defense plants to inspire workers, in addition to appearing at rallies to help sell war bonds.[6]:107 After the Nazi invasion of the Soviet Union, while not a supporter of Communism, he appeared at Soviet war relief rallies to give moral aid to America's new ally, which he said could join "together in their hatred of Hitlerism."[6]:107

After the war ended, Robinson spoke publicly in support of democratic rights for all Americans, especially in demanding equality for Blacks in the workplace. He endorsed the Fair Employment Practices Commission's call to end workplace discrimination.[6]:109 Black leaders praised him as "one of the great friends of the Negro and a great advocator of Democracy."[6]:109 Robinson also campaigned for the civil rights of African-Americans, helping out many people to overcome segregation and discrimination.[25]

During the years Robinson spoke against fascism and Nazism—although not a supporter of Communism—he failed to criticize the Soviet Union which he saw as an ally against Hitler. However, notes film historian Steven J. Ross, "activists who attacked Hitler without simultaneously attacking Stalin were vilified by conservative critics as either Communists, Communist dupes, or, at best, naive liberal dupes."[6]:128 In addition, Robinson learned that 11 of the more than the 850 charities and groups he had helped over the previous decade were listed by the FBI as Communist front organizations.[26] As a result, he was called to testify in front of the House Un-American Activities Committee (HUAC) in 1950 and 1952 and was threatened with blacklisting.[27]

As appears in the full House Un-American Activities Committee transcript for April 30, 1952, Robinson "named names" of Communist sympathizers (Albert Maltz, Dalton Trumbo, John Howard Lawson, Frank Tuttle, and Sidney Buchman) and repudiated some of the organizations he had belonged to in the 1930s and 1940s.[27][28] He came to realize, "I was duped and used."[6]:121 His own name was cleared, but in the aftermath his career noticeably suffered, as he was offered smaller roles and those less frequently. In October 1952 he wrote an article titled "How the Reds made a Sucker Out of Me", that was published in the American Legion Magazine.[29] The chair of the Committee, Francis E. Walter, told Robinson at the end of his testimonies, that the Committee "never had any evidence presented to indicate that you were anything more than a very choice sucker."[6]:122

In popular culture

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Robinson as gangster in Little Caesar (1931)

Robinson has been the inspiration for a number of animated television characters, usually caricatures of his most distinctive 'snarling gangster' guise. An early version of the gangster character Rocky, featured in the Bugs Bunny cartoon Racketeer Rabbit, shared his likeness. This version of the character also appears briefly in Justice League, in the episode "Comfort and Joy", as an alien with Robinson's face and non-human body, who hovers past the screen as a background character.

Similar caricatures also appeared in The Coo-Coo Nut Grove, Thugs with Dirty Mugs and Hush My Mouse. Another character based on Robinson's tough-guy image was The Frog (Chauncey "Flat Face" Frog) from the cartoon series Courageous Cat and Minute Mouse. The voice of B.B. Eyes in The Dick Tracy Show was based on Robinson, with Mel Blanc and Jerry Hausner sharing voicing duties. The Wacky Races animated series character 'Clyde' from the Ant Hill Mob was based on Robinson's Little Caesar persona.

In the 1989 animated series C.O.P.S. the mastermind villain Brandon "Big Boss" Babel's voice sounded just like Edward G. Robinson when he would talk to his gangsters.[citation needed]

Voice actor Hank Azaria has noted that the voice of Simpsons character police chief Clancy Wiggum is an impression of Robinson.[30] This has been explicitly joked about in episodes of the show. In "The Day the Violence Died" (1996), a character states that Chief Wiggum is clearly based on Robinson. In 2008's "Treehouse of Horror XIX", Wiggum and Robinson's ghost each accuse the other of being rip-offs.[citation needed]

Another caricature of Robinson appears in two episodes of Star Wars: The Clone Wars season two, in the person of Lt. Tan Divo.[citation needed] Arok the Hutt was inspired by Edward G. Robinson’s gangster portrayals in Star Wars: The Clone Wars

Robinson was played by Michael Stuhlbarg in the 2015 film Trumbo. In the film he is portrayed as a weak man, going along with the House UnAmerican Committee to save his own career. In contrast, Dalton Trumbo appears to be entirely honourable when he refuses to accept money from Robinson.

Filmography

Excluding appearances as himself.

Arms and the Woman (1916) as Factory Worker

The Bright Shawl (1923) as Domingo Escobar

The Hole in the Wall (1929) as The Fox

The Kibitzer (1930, screenplay)

Night Ride (1930) as Tony Garotta

A Lady to Love (1930) as Tony

An Intimate Dinner in Celebration of Warner Brothers Silver Jubilee (1930, Short) as Himself

Die Sehnsucht jeder Frau (1930) as Tony

Outside the Law (1930) as Cobra Collins

East Is West (1930) as Charlie Yong

The Widow from Chicago (1930) as Dominic

How I Play Golf by Bobby Jones No. 10: Trouble Shots (1931, Short) as Himself (uncredited)

Little Caesar (1931) (with Douglas Fairbanks, Jr.) as Little Caesar – Alias 'Rico'

The Stolen Jools (1931, Short) (with Wallace Beery) as Gangster

Smart Money (1931) (with James Cagney) as Nick Venizelos

Five Star Final (1931) as Randall

The Hatchet Man (1932) as Wong Low Get

Two Seconds (1932) as John Allen

Tiger Shark (1932) as Mike Mascarenhas

Silver Dollar (1932) as Yates Martin

The Little Giant (1933) as Bugs Ahearn

I Loved a Woman (1933) as John Mansfield Hayden

Dark Hazard (1934) as Jim 'Buck' Turner

The Man with Two Faces (1934) as Damon Welles / Jules Chautard

The Whole Town's Talking (1935) as Arthur Ferguson Jones

Barbary Coast (1935) as Luis Chamalis

Bullets or Ballots (1936) (with Humphrey Bogart) as Detective Johnny Blake

Thunder in the City (1937) as Dan Armstrong

A Day at Santa Anita (1937, Short) as Himself (uncredited)

Kid Galahad (1937) (with Bette Davis and Humphrey Bogart) as Nick Donati

The Last Gangster (1937) (with James Stewart) as Joe Krozac

A Slight Case of Murder (1938) as Remy Marco

The Amazing Dr. Clitterhouse (1938) (with Claire Trevor and Humphrey Bogart) as Dr. Clitterhouse

I Am the Law (1938) as Prof. John Lindsay

Verdensberømtheder i København (1939, Documentary) as Himself

Confessions of a Nazi Spy (1939) as Edward Renard

Blackmail (1939) as John R. Ingram

Dr. Ehrlich's Magic Bullet (1940) as Dr. Paul Ehrlich

Brother Orchid (1940) (with Humphrey Bogart) as 'Little' John T. Sarto

A Dispatch from Reuter's (1940) as Julius Reuter

The Sea Wolf (1941) (with John Garfield) as 'Wolf' Larsen

Manpower (1941) (with Marlene Dietrich and George Raft) as Hank McHenry

Polo with the Stars (1941, Short) as Himself – Watching Polo Match (uncredited)

Unholy Partners (1941) as Bruce Corey

Larceny, Inc. (1942) as Pressure' Maxwell

Tales of Manhattan (1942) as Avery L. 'Larry' Browne

Moscow Strikes Back (1942, Documentary) as Narrator

Magic Bullets (1943, Short Documentary) as Narrator

Flesh and Fantasy (1943) as Marshall Tyler (Episode 2)

Destroyer (1943) as Steve Boleslavski

Tampico (1944) as Captain Bart Manson

Double Indemnity (1944) (with Fred MacMurray and Barbara Stanwyck) as Barton Keyes

Mr. Winkle Goes to War (1944) as Wilbert Winkle

The Woman in the Window (1944) as Professor Richard Wanley

Our Vines Have Tender Grapes (1945) as Martinius Jacobson

Journey Together (1945) as Dean McWilliams

Scarlet Street (1945) as Christopher Cross

American Creed (1946, Short) as Himself

The Stranger (1946) (with Loretta Young and Orson Welles) as Mr. Wilson

The Red House (1947) as Pete Morgan

All My Sons (1948) (with Burt Lancaster) as Joe Keller

Key Largo (1948) (with Humphrey Bogart and Lauren Bacall) as Johnny Rocco

Night Has a Thousand Eyes (1948) as John Triton

House of Strangers (1949) as Gino Monetti

It's a Great Feeling (1949) as Himself (uncredited)

Operation X (1950) as George Constantin

Actors and Sin (1952) as Maurice Tillayou (segment "Actor's Blood")

Vice Squad (1953) as Capt. 'Barnie' Barnaby

Big Leaguer (1953) as John B. 'Hans' Lobert

The Glass Web (1953) as Henry Hayes

Black Tuesday (1954) as Vincent Canelli

For the Defense (1954 TV movie) as Matthew Considine

The Violent Men (1955) as Lew Wilkison

Tight Spot (1955) as Lloyd Hallett

A Bullet for Joey (1955) as Inspector Raoul Leduc

Illegal (1955) as Victor Scott

Hell on Frisco Bay (1955) as Victor Amato

Nightmare (1956) as Rene Bressard

The Ten Commandments (1956) as Dathan

The Heart of Show Business (1957, Short) as Narrator

A Hole in the Head (1959) (with Frank Sinatra) as Mario Manetta

Seven Thieves (1960) as Theo Wilkins

The Right Man (1960, TV Movie) as Theodore Roosevelt

Pepe (1960) (with Cantinflas) as Himself

My Geisha (1962) as Sam Lewis

Two Weeks in Another Town (1962) (with Kirk Douglas) as Maurice Kruger

Sammy Going South (1963) (a.k.a. A Boy Ten Feet Tall) as Cocky Wainwright

The Prize (1963) as Dr. Max Stratman

Robin and the 7 Hoods (1964) (with the Rat Pack) as Big Jim Stevens (uncredited)

Good Neighbor Sam (1964) (with Jack Lemmon) as Simon Nurdlinger

Cheyenne Autumn (1964) as Secretary of the Interior Carl Schurz

The Outrage (1964) as Con Man

Who Has Seen the Wind? (1965, TV Movie) as Captain

The Cincinnati Kid (1965) (with Steve McQueen) as Lancey Howard

All About People (1967, Short) as Narrator

The Blonde from Peking (1967) as Douglas – chef C.I.A.

Grand Slam (1967) as Prof. James Anders

Operation St. Peter's (1967) as Joe Ventura

The Biggest Bundle of Them All (1968) as Professor Samuels

Never a Dull Moment (1968) (with Dick Van Dyke) as Leo Joseph Smooth

It's Your Move (1968) as Sir George McDowell

Mackenna's Gold (1969) (with Gregory Peck) as Old Adams

U.M.C., aka Operation Heartbeat (1969, TV Movie; pilot for Medical Center) as Dr. Lee Forestman

The Old Man Who Cried Wolf (1970, TV Movie) as Emile Pulska

Song of Norway (1970) as Krogstad

Mooch Goes to Hollywood (1971) as Himself – Party guest (uncredited)

Night Gallery (1971) Season 2, episode 13a (The Messiah on Mott Street) as Abe Goldman

Neither by Day Nor by Night (1972) as Father

Soylent Green (1973) (with Charlton Heston) as Sol Roth (final film role)

Radio appearances

Year Program Episode/source

1940 Screen Guild Theatre Blind Alley[31]

1946 Suspense The Man Who Wanted to Be Edward G. Robinson[32]

1946 This Is Hollywood The Stranger[33]

1950 Screen Directors Playhouse The Sea Wolf[33]

See also

The present study aims to investigate the contribution that actor Edward G. Robinson brought to the American film industry, beginning with his iconic role as gangster Little Caesar in Mervyn Le Roy’s 1931 production, and continuing with widely-acclaimed parts in classic film noirs such as Double Indemnity, The Woman in the Window and Scarlet Street. Edward G. Robinson was actually a Romanian Jew, born Emmanuel Goldenberg in Bucharest, in 1893, a relatively little known fact nowadays. By examining his biography, filmography and his best-known, most successful films (mentioned above), I show that Edward G. Robinson was one of classical Hollywood’s most influential actors; for instance, traits of his portrayal of Little Caesar (one of the very first American gangster films) can be found in almost all subsequent cinematic gangster figures, from Scarface to Vito Corleone. In the same vein, the doomed noir characters he played in Fritz Lang’s The Woman in the Window and Scarlet Street are still considered by film critics today to be some of the finest, most nuanced examples of noir heroes. Therefore, the main body of my article will be dedicated to a more detailed analysis of these films, while the introductory section will trace his biography and discuss some of his better-known films, such as Confessions of a Nazi Spy and Key Largo. The present study highlights Edward G. Robinson’s merits and impact on the cinema industry, proving that this diminutive Romanian Jew of humble origins was indeed something of a giant during Hollywood’s classical era. Keywords: Edward G. Robinson, Hollywood, film industry, film noir American, British and Canadian Studies / 44 Biographical facts and filmography overview Edward G. Robinson. The cocky, ebullient tough guy. He was Little Caesar, the quintessential gangster success and failure story. Robinson had defined for the huge Great Depression moviegoing audience the idea of the snarling, immigrant anti-hero – a vicious and repentant underdog going down in a hail of bullets. (ix) This is how Alan Gansberg, Robinson’s biographer, describes the actor in the introduction to his book, Little Caesar: A Biography of Edward G. Robinson. I believe that this is the image that most cinema-goers recall when thinking about an actor that rightfully earned his placed among the silver screen’s most recognizable faces. But what was beyond the tough guy exterior, behind the mask of the seemingly all-powerful gangster? Few people know that Robinson was a liberal democrat and a political activist, as well as an avid art collector – and even fewer are aware of his true origins. His family, whose history went back about two hundred years, was a typical Romanian Jewish family living in Bucharest near the turn of the 20th century; they belonged to the small bourgeoisie and were somewhat assimilated into Romanian culture, although they still retained some of their Jewish traditions, including the Yiddish language. Edward G. Robinson’s parents, Morris and Sarah Goldenberg, had already had four sons when another boy, baptized Emmanuel, was born on December 12, 1893; he would eventually be the second youngest son (Gansberg 1; Brook 95; Spicer 262; Mayer & McDonnell 357). According to the biographer, the Goldenbergs, who were “urbanized but far from emancipated”, lived in a predominantly Jewish neighborhood “where Jews were assigned to live,” 1 in a “traditional Jewish home” (Gansberg 2). The family placed great value on the children’s upbringing, arranging for them to receive a religious education, as well as language lessons in Hebrew, Yiddish, Romanian and German (Gansberg 3). The family were also frequent spectators of the theatre performances staged by the Bucharest Jewish Theatre, a place where many talented actors started their career. 45 A Romanian Jew in Hollywood It should be said, at this point, that Romanian Jews at the end of the 19th century were still subject to discrimination and persecution – probably the most significant of all being the refusal of successive Romanian governments to grant them citizenship rights. In fact, the issue of naturalizing Romanian Jews had polarized Romanian public opinion and politicians since the end of the war of independence (1878), when the great European powers (particularly France and Britain) wanted to condition the recognition of the independent Romanian state on granting full citizenship rights to its Jewish population. Additionally, spontaneous bursts of violence were not uncommon – for instance, during one of these episodes, one of Emmanuel’s brothers was hit on the head by a thrown brick; he would never completely recover from this injury and would eventually die in America (Gansberg 3). This incident may have precipitated Morris Goldenberg’s decision to leave Romania and emigrate to America, where he hoped that his family would find a better life.2 The Goldenbergs did not travel all together: first, the father and the oldest three sons left, followed by Sarah and the three younger children, who made their way to Vienna via a kind of “underground railroad” aiding Jews to reach the western European embarkation port of Le Havre. Thus, Emmanuel Goldenberg finally arrived in New York in 1903, at the age of 10. As he confessed in his autobiography, “My mother may have given birth in Romania, but I was born the day I set foot on American soil” (Robinson 4). The Goldenbergs settled in the overcrowded, predominantly Jewish Lower East Side, where the younger boys – including Emmanuel – started school. The young boy knew no English at the time, but he found it quite easy to learn the new language, as he had an obvious talent for it (Gansberg 4). Interestingly enough, Emmanuel (or Manny, as his family called him), went to the same high school later attended by George Gershwin and Manny’s own cousin – another iconic gangster figure, who first portrayed Scarface on film – Paul Muni. Initially, Emmanuel wanted to become a rabbi and started training in this sense, but soon enough, discovering the calling of the stage by acting in high school plays, abandoned the religious path and focused on becoming an actor, hoping to be starring on Broadway one day (Gansberg 10). His dream would come true in 1915, when – after starring in several plays in the New York American, British and Canadian Studies / 46 Yiddish Theatre District – Emmanuel (who had by now changed his name to Edward G. Robinson, in an attempt to make it sound more American and minimize his immigrant heritage – a trait characteristic for many new immigrants who were trying to “blend” into American society) made his Broadway debut in 1915 (Mayer & McDonnell 357).3 His very successful gangster role in the crime drama The Racket brought him to the attention of Hollywood producers, who saw his potential and hoped that his stage persona would translate well to the silver screen. The industry was in the midst of making the transition from the silent films to the talkies and Robinson apparently had all the qualities to successfully negotiate this change, unlike other actors, whose careers were killed by the advent of sound. Capitalizing on the success of The Racket, in 1931 Robinson was cast in the role of the ruthless Caesar Enrico Bandello in Warner Brothers’ Little Caesar, one of the very first and most iconic portrayals of the gangster in American cinema (Spicer 262; Hark 12; Mayer & McDonnell 357). It can be argued that this part helped create many stereotypes associated with the gangster hero (not the least of which the typical American rags-to-riches – and, in this case, back to rags – story), stereotypes exploited by the studios that kept casting Robinson in similar roles throughout the 1930s, relying on the public’s familiarity with his mobster persona: Smart Money, 1931; Tiger Shark, 1932; Kid Galahad, 1937; A Slight Case of Murder, 1938 (Brook 96; Gates 65; Neale 72). Actually, in the last film, Robinson parodied the character he helped create, by bringing to life a “reformed” gangster in the post-Prohibition period who started a legitimate business (Hark 214). Probably the bestknown spin-off role based on the character played by Robinson in Little Caesar is John Houston’s 1948 Key Largo, where he was cast opposite Humphrey Bogart (Spicer 106). In this film, Robinson played an aging Little Caesar figure, the gangster Rocco (seemingly based on the real-life mobster Lucky Luciano), who wanted to return to America from deportation to start his old ways again (Munby 132); his nemesis was war veteran McCloud (Bogart), who thwarted his efforts. However, the message of the film was that the gangster’s own hubris brought about his downfall (Dickos 118; Studlar 375). 47 A Romanian Jew in Hollywood During the late 1930s, Robinson – partly because of his Jewish origins – became an outspoken critic of fascism and Nazism, donating more than a quarter of a million dollars to various anti-Nazi political groups between 1939 and 1949 and hosting the 1938 meeting of the Committee of 56 (made up of various figures from the film industry) who signed a “Declaration of Democratic Independence” calling for a boycott of all German-made products. He even starred in Warner Brothers’ 1939 Confessions of a Nazi Spy, the first American film that presented the threat posed by Nazism to the United States. The release of this film that outspokenly denounces Nazi ideology is all the more remarkable considering that the Production Code4 made it almost impossible to release films criticizing foreign powers (Maland 240). Here, Robinson played an FBI agent who investigates a spy network in the US that was stealing military secrets and selling them to Germany; the film employs a semi-documentary style that blends together voice-over narration and authentic footage of Nazi rallies in Germany (Maland 240; Milberg 13- 14). Robinson also played a Jewish scientist in the 1940 production of Dr. Erlich’s Magic Bullet – the first role in which he was required to portray an explicitly Jewish character (Brook 96). The second Jewish character he played was Paul Julius Reuter in A Dispatch from Reuters (1941). Starting with the mid-1940s, Robinson began to move away from playing the kinds of roles that had made him famous and approached some very different characters in a series of films that would later come to be known as film noirs. 5 His supporting role as claims insurance agent Barton Keyes in Billy Wilder’s 1944 Double Indemnity revived his career and proved that he was capable of creating diverse and challenging roles; in contrast to his earlier, tough-guy parts, the characters Robinson played in film noirs were sensitive, vulnerable, and thoughtful. In his autobiography, Robinson confessed that he did not readily accept the part Wilder offered him in Double Indemnity, primarily because it was a supporting role; however, after thinking about this offer for a while, he understood that “at my age it was time to begin thinking of character roles, to slide into middle and old age… I was never the handsome leading man; I could proceed with my career growing older in roles that would grow older, too” (Robinson 236; Mayer & McDonnell 358). In a very American, British and Canadian Studies / 48 fortunate way, this role paved the way for some of his best-known parts: Professor Richard Wanley in The Woman in the Window and Christopher Cross in Scarlet Street, both of whom are middle-aged men faced with their own mortality (Irwin 253). The list of Robinson’s film noirs includes, besides these three undisputed classics, Night Has a Thousand Eyes (1948),6 House of Strangers (1949), The Stranger (1946), Vice Squad (1953), Illegal (1955), Nightmare (1956) and the sci-fi neo-noir Soylent Green, his very last film made in 1973. In the early 1950s, just as his career was taking off again, Robinson came under scrutiny by the House Un-American Activities Committee; he was called to testify before this body three times in 1950 and 1952, after the notoriously racist congressman John Rankin accused him, alongside other Jewish actors, of being a communist sympathizer (Brook 95-96). Robinson was threatened with blacklisting (Spicer 19). He refused to give the names of other communist supporters and took steps to clear his name by allowing an accountant to verify his checkbooks and prove that no funds had been sent to subversive organizations. His reputation was eventually rehabilitated, but his career suffered in the aftermath of this infamous affair, as he started being offered minor and less frequent roles (Spicer 262). His career was revived in 1954, when legendary director Cecil B. DeMille cast him as the villainous Dathan in his grandiose biblical epic The Ten Commandments. In the late 1950s, Robinson started accepting roles in television films and virtually stopped appearing on the big screen. The American Academy of Arts and Sciences awarded him an honorary Oscar in recognition of his merits in 1973; unfortunately, this remarkable honor came too late for Robinson to enjoy: he had died of cancer a few weeks before the ceremony, so the golden statue was conferred posthumously. Despite unfounded accusations of communism, Robinson remained a liberal democrat all his life, even attending the Democrat Party Convention in Los Angeles in 1962. In contrast to his many tough-guy roles, the real Robinson was a sensitive, soft-spoken and cultured man, who spoke seven languages (including Romanian) and possessed a vast and valuable art collection – a passion he had inherited from his father. 49 A Romanian Jew in Hollywood In his half a century-long career, Edward G. Robinson completed 101 films belonging to a wide variety of genres; his very diverse roles bear witness to his tremendous artistic potential and to his remarkable acting skills, as well as to the dedication with which this Romanian Jew served the American public and the noble art of cinema. The classic ethnic gangster: Little Caesar Little Caesar is both the film that made Edward G. Robinson a star and launched the first cycle of gangster talkies in the early 1930s; alongside Mervyn Le Roy’s production, one can include here William Wellman’s 1931 The Public Enemy (starring James Cagney), Howard Hawks’s 1932 Scarface (starring Robinson’s cousin, Paul Muni, born Frederich Meyer Weisenfreund) and Robert Mamoulian’s 1931 City Streets (Irwin 211; Leich 23; Munby 39). What all these films share is a typical American story: the Horatio Alger rags-to-riches tale of a markedly individualistic gangster who rises high in social hierarchy only to fall to his inevitable doom in the end. These gangsters, inspired from real-life figures who had made a name for themselves during Prohibition (such as Al Capone or Lucky Luciano) and who held a certain fascination for a relatively large portion of the American public (probably because these people – like the mobsters – had worked hard and seen all their wealth ripped away by the Great Depression) were all charismatic, appealing figures (Hark 13; Rubin 72; Rabinowitz 263). That is why scriptwriters were particularly careful to see that these heroes were punished in the end, so as to eliminate any trace of moral ambiguity and to avoid drawing the sympathy of the public on the side of crime, as the Production Code required.7 Another trait that distinguished these gangsters is their ethnicity: Rico Bandello (Little Caesar), Tommy Powers (Public Enemy) and Tony Camonte (Scarface) are all “hyphenated Americans” torn apart, to some extent, by the dilemma of living in two worlds and not completely belonging to either (Munby 20).8 As Jonathan Munby points out, “essential to the drama of these gangster films is precisely the accentuation of hyphenated identity as a competing authentic American condition” (26). None of the three actors came from schools of “high American, British and Canadian Studies / 50 acting” – instead, they were the product of the ethnic and popular theatrical tradition of New York’s Lower East Side; this, I believe, granted them a biographical proximity to the characters they were playing: these actors, like the gangsters they were playing, wanted to belong, to fit in the American society, to “make it” in this promised land.9 Despite the popularity of this genre, critical voices expressed their objections in terms of a moral paradigm (the appealing gangster figure “corrupting” the moral fiber of the American society). However, this moral indignation may have disguised a more complex apprehension towards the ethnic and cultural “other” (Munby 44). Objections to these films were not limited to questions of morality, but also to the representation of the American society that was less than flattering (Munby 107). In Little Caesar’s case, for instance, his quest for legitimacy was more than a mere question of building a front to disguise the illegal nature of his dealings; it is also a quest to gain access to the upper social strata (a recurring motif in the film, as Rico confesses several times that he wants to “be somebody”). It is evident for anyone that Rico was “the other”: his name, his accent and behavior betrayed his distinctly ethnic origins. In fact, the film begins with Rico expressing his desire to escape his dead-end small town and move to the big city – a sort of a symbolic passage from innocence to corruption that foreshadows his fall from grace. In a sense, the film can also be read a critique of capitalism: the rise of the machine, of industry and technology are a deviation from a simpler way of life that corrupts the soul and produces criminals and rebels (Munby 45-46). Rico rises from nothing to the top, only to die in the gutter at the end, perhaps as a punishment for his attempt to transcend his limitations. What sets Little Caesar apart from all the previous Hollywood gangster and crime films is the fact that, for the first time, the public sees the world through the eyes of the gangster; previous crime stories had always been seen through the eyes of society, the criminal was a mere bad guy who had killed somebody and was then punished for his deed (McGilligan 58). As Rico rises through the ranks of the big city criminal gang, his material circumstances notably improve; he pays a great deal of attention to these outer signs of success to the point of ostentation by 51 A Romanian Jew in Hollywood wearing elegant suits, smoking fine cigars, displaying flashy diamond rings and collecting fine paintings (Munby 48).10 The irony is, of course, that although Rico and his distinctively ethnic partners in crime proudly display these signs of success, they have no means of appreciating their real value: for instance, when invited to Big Boy’s opulent house (where he clearly feels like a fish out of water), Rico’s only criterion for assessing the value of the painting is the presumably huge cost of its massive golden frame. Another significant moment in this respect is captured in the banquet scene, a celebration organized by Rico’s band to celebrate his rise to fame. This actually resembles a parody of a high-society event. Although the participants are appropriately dressed, they have no notion of the sense of protocol that should be observed in such circumstances: no one can give a coherent speech and the event degenerates into a food fight, while the gift Rico receives turns out to be stolen (Munby 48). Despite his best efforts to integrate into mainstream society, Rico is condemned to playing the role of entrepreneur from the wrong side of the law; despite the promise extended to all immigrants that they could become legitimate Americans, Rico is only allowed to mimic legitimacy (Munby 50). Even though both his acolytes and the men of the law admit that Rico “is getting up in the world,” his ultimate demise proves that integration into the American society requires more than wealth.11 No one is more surprised than Rico at the end, when he is gunned down by the police under a poster advertising the next show of his former associate Joe (who left the criminal underworld in order to pursue a legitimate career as a dancer, for which – the films shows us – he was rightfully rewarded). In true tragic hero fashion, he asks the audience in astonishment: “Mother of Mercy! Is this the end of Rico?” (Dickos 115). Of course, Rico could have escaped with his life and live out the same existence he presumably had before becoming famous; but, since the Production Code would have made it impossible to release a film in which the bad guy manages to evade the law, Rico has to pay for his crimes, after he is lured out of hiding by a typically WASP policemen playing on his ego. Robinson would reprise his role as ethnic gangster in John Houston’s 1948 film, Key Largo, where his character, Rocco, borrows American, British and Canadian Studies / 52 quite liberally from the traits with which he had endowed Little Caesar. Whereas both gangsters are undoubtedly strong masculine figures, his roles as Professor Richard Wanley in The Woman in the Window and as Christopher Cross in Scarlet Street depart significantly from Robinson’s established screen persona. In contrast to the impulsive and arrogant gangsters, these later parts show Robinson as a meek, even effeminate man who falls victim to the manipulation of ruthless and selfish femme fatales. The noir hero in Double Indemnity, The Woman in the Window and Scarlet Street Double Indemnity (1944) is almost universally acknowledged as the first major film noir, marking the beginning of a series of films characterized by expressionist mise-en-scene, low key lighting, and down-and-out characters, in stark contrast to the usually upbeat and proactive Hollywood hero (Rubin 91). The film tells the story of an insurance agent (Walter Neff, played by Fred MacMurray) who conspires with a treacherous wife (Barbara Stanwyck, in a role that set the tone for future femme fatales) to murder her husband and get hold of the life insurance money. Edward G. Robinson plays the third lead, Neff’s boss and close friend (Barton Keyes), who values following the rules above anything.12 The entire narrative structure of the film takes place in flashback, as a dying Neff dictates the story of his downfall into a recording machine in the form of a confession to his friend and mentor, Keyes. The two men have a very warm, almost parental relationship, although one seems to be the complete opposite of the other: Neff is tall and handsome, Keyes is short and stocky; Neff smokes cigarettes, Keyes smoked cigars (which Neff always lights for him, as Keyes never carries matches (at the end of the film, Keyes returns the favor and lights a cigarette for his dying friend) (Spicer 78; Duncan 33)). Neff is ultimately a criminal, while Keyes is a man of the law (Naremore 90). Nevertheless, they have a deep mutual respect for each other and Keyes actually represents a sort of father figure to the younger and more impetuous Neff. Still, Neff considers Keyes too 53 A Romanian Jew in Hollywood inflexible (Keyes even had his fiancée checked before their wedding and abandoned her when he discovered something shady in her past (Duncan 33).13 The film suggests that, in this case, the male-female relationship is poisonous and lethal (Neff and Phyllis end up killing each other), while the male-male relationship is one of genuine affection and mutual trust and admiration. Neff pays the ultimate price for eventually cheating the insurance company (and implicitly betraying Keyes, as the latter is clearly a “company man”). Ironically, Neff’s deceit is discovered precisely because he returns to his office to record his confession to Keyes (Abbott 149; Naremore 90). Some critics have suggested that the Neff-Keyes relationship is another play on the male-female relationship, in the sense that the masculine Neff would be the male counterpart to the diminutive Keyes’ “feminized” position (Maxfield 32). The film is based on a novel by James M. Cain, a well-known American author of hard-boiled fiction. There is one major difference between the book and the screenplay written by another famous American writer, Raymond Chandler: director William Wilder felt that Keyes’ character (which is a relatively minor one in the book) deserved a bigger role – probably one worthy of Edward G. Robinson’s talent (Irwin 249- 250; Spicer 78). And Robinson made it into the best supporting role of his career. The Woman in the Window and Scarlet Street, both directed by the Jewish German émigré director Fritz Lang in 1944 and 1945, are part of the canon of classic film noir and are considered to this day some of the finest examples of their kind (Mayer & McDonnell 446). As Andrew Dickos points out in his history of American film noir, the two films can be seen in retrospect as films of temptation sublimated (Woman in the Window) and temptation fulfilled (Scarlet Street) (26). The plot of both films is triggered by a wrongly taken first step and illustrate the terrible price to be paid at the hands of fate by those submitting to unbridled desire. Both of them feature an unassuming, mild, middle-aged protagonist (played by Edward G. Robinson) trapped in a hopeless love story with a manipulative seductress (Joan Bennett) and driven to murder and despair (Spicer 169; Mayer & McDonnell 447). American, British and Canadian Studies / 54 In The Woman in the Window, Robinson plays a university professor of psychology, Richard Wanley, an “Old World gentleman, the professor who loves art and literature, after-dinner drinks and cigars” (Brook 97), but who is going through a midlife crisis despite the appearance of being in a happy and quiet marriage. Deep down, Wanley still longs for adventure, but is reluctant to give free rein to his impulses (Rubin 50). His contemplative approach to life (illustrated by his habit of gazing in the window of an art gallery at the portrait of beautiful woman) changes completely when the woman in the portrait, Alice, appears right next to him. From this point forward, Wanley starts sinking deeper and deeper into a web of guilty lies after he kills the mysterious woman’s lover in self-defense, following a brief struggle in her apartment. He offers to help dispose of the body, but he commits a number of errors in the process and he is nearly discovered when a policeman stops him for having a broken headlight while the corpse is in the car; he leaves his pen in Alice’s apartment; he hurts himself on a barbed wire fence while leaving the woods where he hid the body (Dickos 26). As it happens, the one commissioned to investigate the murder of the mysterious stranger (who was a controversial, but very rich businessman) is none other than Wanley’s friend, police chief Lalor. He actually invites Wanley to go visit the crime scene with him, a visit during which the professor stops very short of actually confessing to having committed the murder, but makes a number of “Freudian” slips that may indicate a repressed desire to be punished. Nonetheless, the policeman ignores these mistakes as he is convinced that Wanley is too respectable to be a murderer (Mayer & McDonnell 448). Meanwhile, the dead man’s bodyguard turns up and starts blackmailing Alice, threatening to tell the police everything he knows unless she pays him off. Alice goes to Wanley for money; he is clever enough to understand that this sort of blackmail will never end and, instead, advises Alice to kill him by poisoning his drink with a fatal dose of sleeping pills. Alice fails to carry out the deed, and Wanley understands that there no way out for him now; he takes an overdose of barbiturates, just as Alice hears gunshots outside her apartment. Rushing out, Alice sees the blackmailer, who was the number one murder suspect, lying dead 55 A Romanian Jew in Hollywood in the street. She runs back home to phone Wanley, but the phone rings on without any answer;14 a slow track-in track-out shot reveals Wanley, who had fallen asleep in an armchair at the club where he and his friends usually had dinner, awaking with a start to realize that everything had been a dream (Park 170). This unexpected twist is surprising and unforeseen, but I believe it is a nod to the demands of the Production Code (which required that no bad deed should go unpunished). At the same time, it serves a more complex purpose, making the film appear as a conservative morality play and accommodating the vicarious pleasure of the audience at seeing a middle-aged man acting on his repressed desires and being punished for it, while at the same time rejoicing in a more or less typical Hollywood happy ending (Mayer & McDonnell 448). The last scene shows Wanley walking out of the club and stopping to admire the beautiful woman in the painting and a stylish young woman approaches him asking for a cigarette. Wanley runs away as fast as he can before he can be tempted once more to indulge his fantasies. The film uses its main character as a vehicle to explore the thin line between respectability and morality, between doing the right thing and giving in to one’s desires, underscoring how easy it is for any man to be caught up in passion, lies and deceit (Mayer & McDonnell 449). This theme will be further explored in Lang’s next film, Scarlet Street, whose main protagonist no longer survives through the fortunate dream device employed in The Woman in the Window - this time, the full extent of the tragedy resulting from acting on one’s repressed desires in revealed in all its grim glory. Scarlet Street was Lang’s favorite among all his American films. It is actually a remake of a 1931 French film directed by Jean Renoir, entitled La Chienne, based on a novel by Georges de la Fouchardiere.15 This film continues the idea explored by Lang in The Woman in the Window – namely, an upright citizen trapped in a circle of lies and betrayal – with the same cast of characters (Edward G. Robinson, Joan Bennett and Dan Duryea) who deliver some of the finest performances of their careers (Phillips 76-77; Park 163; Mayer & McDonnell 366; Brook 96). This film represented a serious challenge to the conventions established by the Production Code, in the sense that it lets a murderer go American, British and Canadian Studies / 56 unpunished for his crime and instead lets another take the fall. The protagonist, Christopher Cross, is the classic fallen hero,16 a rather pathetic character and a genuine victim of fate who develops an allconsuming passion for a woman of questionable morals and is ultimately driven to murder and insanity by her. Cross bears some resemblance to the character played by Robinson in his earlier film, The Woman in the Window; both are men of “effeminate manners, artistic leanings and elaborate deductions” (Brook 11). Moreover, Cross is a Sunday painter who describes his relationship to his art as a “love affair,” while Wanley fell for a woman portrayed in a painting. Scarlet Street opens with a company party celebrating Cross’ 25 years of loyal service. This scene bears some similarities with the banquet scene in Little Caesar (Robinson seated at the center of a long dinner table, smoking a cigar in the manner of his famous Rico character), so a viewer familiar with his gangster screen persona might get the impression that Robinson is the head of a criminal organization (Grant 2007: 73). In fact, nothing could be further from the truth: he is nothing but a meek, repressed, law-abiding cashier. This scene is the only one in the film in which Cross seems valued by his peers and is safe from a ruthless world in which his timidity and naiveté render him vulnerable (Chopra-Gant 170). He reveals the emptiness and frustration of his life when he sees his boss leaving the party with an attractive young woman, clearly not his wife, and wonders what “it is like to be loved by a young girl like that.” Soon enough, wandering the streets of Greenwich Village at night (the street – usually at nighttime – is a recurring motif in film noir, a menacing, dangerous labyrinth, an eerie environment where evil lurks in the shadows) (Ryall 166-167), Chris happens upon a young woman being brutalized by someone she claims is a thief, but who is, in fact, her brutal and insensitive boyfriend, Johnny. He chases him away with his umbrella, perhaps imagining himself to be a kind of medieval knight using his spear to rescue a damsel in distress, and runs off to find a policeman (Grant 2007: 73). The composition of this scene reveals to the viewer much about Christopher Cross’ personality: the frame is dominated by the massive stature of the policeman, while Cross appears diminutive, submissive, emasculated and humble (a role that – as we find out later in the film – he 57 A Romanian Jew in Hollywood also assumes in the presence of his shrill and domineering wife, Adele). The girl, Kitty March, pretends to be an actress, while Cross leads her to believe that he is a successful and wealthy painter (so they both lie to each other from the very start). Chris, trapped in a loveless, unhappy marriage, becomes infatuated with Kitty almost immediately – a fact speculated by Johnny, who forces Kitty to demand more and more money from him, until Cross is forced to steal money from his company (Phillips 79). He sets Kitty up in an apartment where he comes to paint and to escape his bleak domestic life, while she continuously makes demands for more and more money. Johnny tries to sell one of Cross’ paintings and, when the art dealer is fascinated by the qualities of the work, he pretends that Kitty is the mysterious painter. She then becomes a celebrated artist whose paintings are exhibited in a prestigious New York art gallery. Upon discovering this deception, Chris – instead of being angry – sees Kitty’s appropriation of his work as a symbol of the bond between them. What he fails to realize, however, is that by allowing her to take credit for his work, he actually foregoes his own identity, letting Kitty control him to the point where he no longer has a will of his own (Phillips 80).17 Robinson’s character is similarly dominated by his wife, Adele; at home, we see him wearing an apron and performing domestic chores. Adele is such an obnoxious character that the viewer half-expects Cross suddenly to lose his calm and kill her. In fact, there is one scene in the film where Cross appears to borrow from Robinson’s earlier portrayal of Little Caesar, as the director teasingly raises the public’s expectations when Cross advances towards his wife with a long kitchen knife in his hand. These expectations are not fulfilled here, however, as the scene ends without any violence (Grant 2003: 122; Phillips 80). When Adele’s presumably dead first husband shows up,18 Cross realizes that he is now free to marry Kitty and runs to tell her the good news, only to realize the full extent of her deception: she lied to him all along, as Johnny was the only man she ever loved. In a fit of rage, he stabs her in her ice-cold heart with the most appropriate weapon, an ice pick. He then frames Johnny for the murder so that the latter is condemned and executed for a crime he did not commit.19 However, Chris is fired from his job when his boss discovers his embezzlement and is left