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Before ‘SNL,’ there was Sid Caesar — and a roomful of Jewish writers
(JTA) — Sid Caesar once dominated American television so completely that it was hard to imagine Saturday nights without him. In the early 1950s, his live sketch-comedy program “Your Show of Shows” drew tens of millions of viewers. That show and its other iterations — “The Admiral Broadway Revue,” “Caesar’s Hour” and “Sid Caesar Invites You” — launched the careers of Mel Brooks, Neil Simon and Woody Allen, and helped invent television comedy as we know it.
Caesar and an ensemble cast that included Carl Reiner and Imogene Coca performed movie and musical parodies, domestic skits featuring warring suburbanites and bits highlighting Caesar’s knack for “speaking” foreign languages in convincing gibberish. A parody of the hit show “This Is Your Life” has often been called the funniest sketch in the history of the form. Caesar and Reiner’s “Professor” routine — featuring Caesar as a German-accented know-it-all who knows very little — is the often uncredited precursor to Brooks and Reiner’s more enduring “2000-Year-Old Man.”
And yet, as David Margolick recounts in his new biography, “When Caesar Was King: How Sid Caesar Reinvented American Comedy,” Caesar’s fame proved surprisingly fleeting. Caesar died in 2014 at 91. But well before then, his name had faded, even as his influence endured.
In a recent public conversation held as part of New York Jewish Week’s “Folio” series, Margolick — a longtime journalist and author — reflected on Caesar’s rise, his Jewish sensibility, the brutal pressures of early television, and why the man who changed comedy so profoundly all but vanished from popular memory.
The interview was edited for length and clarity.
For people who may not even know the name Sid Caesar, why is he worthy of a biography?
That’s the problem Mel Brooks raised when I interviewed him, and it actually became the epigraph of my book. He said to me, “People are going to say, ‘Gee, this is really good and really interesting. Just one question, David: Who’s Sid Caesar?’”
For people who lived in the 1950s, American television comedy really started with him. There were vaudeville leftovers and radio shows early on, but Sid Caesar was the first true television comic — someone whose skills were suited to television itself. There was an intimacy to his comedy that wouldn’t have worked in a big theater but worked on a small screen.
And the influence is enormous. Mel Brooks wrote for him. Larry Gelbart [creator of the TV series “M*A*S*H”] wrote for him. Neil Simon wrote for him. Woody Allen wrote for him. Carl Reiner worked with him and went on to create “The Dick Van Dyke Show” [based on his experience on the Caesar shows]. The tendrils of Sid Caesar’s comedy reach into sitcoms, “Saturday Night Live,” Broadway and film.
One challenge of the book was to explain how momentous he was — and the other was to explain how someone so influential could fall into such obscurity.
Caesar is often associated with the Catskills, the upstate New York Jewish vacationland that was a proving ground for any number of Jewish comedians. How did his early life shape his comedy?
The Poconos [in Pennsylvania] were actually just as important as the Catskills in Sid’s case. The producer who really shaped his programs, Max Liebman, came out of Camp Tamiment in the Poconos, not the Catskills. That mattered.
Sid wasn’t a stand-up comic. He started as a musician. People noticed he was funny while horsing around during musical routines. His comedy was more sophisticated than wiseguy stand-up — it was sketch comedy, with music, dance and character work.
And then there’s Yonkers [Caesar’s hometown just north of New York City]. His family ran a restaurant where the workers sat by ethnicity — Germans at one table, Slavs at another. Sid bused tables and absorbed the sound of all those languages. He said he could listen to a language for 15 minutes and imitate its musicality.
He didn’t really speak them. He’d sprinkle in a few words — ‘like chocolate chips in cookie batter,’ he said — but it sounded convincing. Ironically, the languages he avoided were Yiddish and Hebrew, the ones closest to home.
What was happening in television when Caesar arrived in 1949?
Television was empty. It was the electronic corollary of the American frontier. They had hours to fill and no idea how to do it. That’s why people remember watching wrestling. Comedy was going to be central, but nobody knew what kind. Caesar’s early shows weren’t pure comedy — they were variety shows with comedy at the center. Television comedy was still gestating.
And like Hollywood earlier, television became an opening for Jews. The people running the country didn’t quite know what to do with it, and there was a void desperate for talent.
The shows weren’t overtly Jewish — yet they clearly resonated with Jewish audiences. Why?
They were very careful not to be explicit. The word “Jew” was never mentioned. Max Liebman bragged there was no Yiddish on “Your Show of Shows.” They wanted to lie low. But Jewish viewers recognized something. The irreverence. The skepticism toward authority. Rooting for underdogs. Making fun of pomposity and power.
As Sid Caesar said to me, “The Jews knew. The Jews knew what we were doing.” They were winking — communicating without saying it outright.
Food seems to be a recurring theme. I love a later skit when a famous bullfighter is on his deathbed and he and his entourage are putting in their deli orders.
Food is a leitmotif in Caesar’s comedy. There are sketches about wanting food, not getting food, getting less than the other guy, struggling with unfamiliar food. I wrote that his humor was Jewish “in its obsession, born of privation, with food in all its forms.” And they treated food with respect. No food fights. The food was always real.
I asked [food writer] Mimi Sheraton what distinguishes Jews and Italians around food. She said the Italians care about food every bit as much as Jews do — only without the panic. That captured it perfectly.
“Your Show of Shows” ended in June 1954, after five seasons and at the height of its success. Why?
Sid wanted control. He was making $25,000 a week in 1953 — roughly $300,000 a week today — but he was working under Max Liebman. He wanted to emphasize comedy, resented losing time to singers and dancers, and wanted to be the sole star. He was also competitive with [his co-star] Imogene Coca.
The pressure was enormous. Ninety minutes live every week, no margin for error. That stress began to eat him alive.
The legendary writers’ room, especially the one for “Caesar’s Hour,” where all seven writers were Jews, is often romanticized, in films like “My Favorite Year” and Neil Simon’s play “Laughter on the 23rd Floor.” What was it really like?
It was not a picnic. It was a room of incredible tension. These writers were fighting for their lives. They were working in the shadow of the garment district. Entertainment was an escape from a life pushing a cart on Seventh Avenue. They were desperate to survive.
Frank Rich once tried to write a book about them — his version of “The Boys of Summer” [Roger Kahn’s book about the great Brooklyn Dodgers teams of the 1950s]. He abandoned it and told me, “Instead of the boys of summer, I found the angry Jews of winter.”
What led to Caesar’s fall from the center of television and American popular culture?
As television spread into the hinterlands, the audience changed. Sid didn’t play well in Peoria. People thought he was elitist, talking down to them. Lawrence Welk [host of a variety show featuring anodyne pop music] crushed him. Caesar did devastating parodies of Welk — brilliant but futile. Television tastes were shifting.
At the same time, the pressure destroyed him. Drinking, pills, exhaustion. You can see it on screen — the faltering diction, the loss of confidence.
Your book shows a star who was often aloof, difficult to work with, and often addled by booze and drugs. What was Caesar like when you met him?
I interviewed him in 2008. He was very frail, confined to home, but mentally sharper than he’d been in years. One thing he told me stuck with me. He talked about success — that moment when he realized he could have anything he wanted: “Even sturgeon at Barney Greengrass, even if it was $5 a pound.”
That was success to him: never having to hold back. It came back, once again, to food.
What does comedy today owe Sid Caesar?
Larry Gelbart once said, “You want to know what’s missing from comedy today? Jews.” There are still Jewish comedy writers, of course. But in Caesar’s day, it was seven Jews working together, “working our brains out,” as Gelbart put it.
There was an unabashed Jewish essence to that comedy — a shared sensibility — that doesn’t quite exist anymore. Comedy is more variegated now. Something essential was diluted.
And yet, it all started with Sid Caesar.
The post Before ‘SNL,’ there was Sid Caesar — and a roomful of Jewish writers appeared first on The Forward.
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I Came to Israel for Clarity and Left with More Questions (How Jewish)
I arrived in Israel as part of the Birthright Israel Onward Storytellers Program, with a dynamic group of creators from across the globe intent on gaining perspective on the region.
Many people in my group were short-form enthusiasts, but I repeatedly insisted on the power of long-form storytelling. So here are some long-form thoughts on my experience:
While Israelis wear their resilience on their sleeves, I was struck by the psychological weight they’ve gained since Oct 7.
When I learned that the word grief in Hebrew was “evel,” I asked if it was linked to the word “even,” which means rock. A native speaker was surprised by this question, but couldn’t refute the connection.
Coincidences in the Holy Land often feel like Divine signs. Maybe they are.
On our first day, while walking through the Old City in Jerusalem, I lost the Hamsa pendant I bought on my last visit; it slipped right off my neck.
My first sign!
That pendant was now burrowed in the pocket of cobblestone streets older than the prophets. What literal symbol would I replace it with?
After a tear-soaked visit to the Kotel, where I jammed a wish-filled note in the cracks of the ancient wall, we visited the Temple Mount, a jarring surprise to our group to even be allowed in.
At one of the holiest places in Jewish and Muslim culture, I was not moved by the archeological marvel, but by the human connection — in the thoughtful dialogue I began with our Palestinian tour guide, in an effort to understand his experience.
It was not lost on me that we were a living bridge of peace, in the most contentious location between our cultures. I doubt it was lost on him either.
We hugged goodbye later that day, and wished each other well, speaking to the individual but praying for our collectives.
The next day we visited the harrowing sites of the Oct. 7 massacres at the Nova festival and Kibbutz Nir Oz. I was surprised at how unsurprised I was, scarred by the gutting imagery that the attack had become sadly associated with.
We then went to the great expanse of the Negev Desert, with its Grand Canyon-like Godliness. We spoke to our creator in the darkness of the night, looking for more answers — but, again, I was left with more questions.
The signs were unclear and I was getting frustrated.
We then came to Tel Aviv, a city that always feels just right with its bustling multi-culturalism, charming architecture, undeniable food, and endless gorgeous faces.
I could live here, I thought. With the state of the world, maybe sooner rather than later.
I thrived on my own, with long walks away from the group, sipping delicious coffee and reaffirming why I love this country so much. The solitude energized my urge to make the world understand what Israel really is. How they would see if they only came here for themselves!
But we cannot make people see what they don’t want to see. We can only lead by example and hope that our changes inspire them, or at the very least, confront them.
Our meaningful journey, carefully curated by Yael Adventures, was coming to an end.
I left this chapter of my trip inspired by a group of young leaders expressing their values online to move hearts and minds through food, fashion, humor, and culture.
The odds are against us.
As I told them, my family is Israeli, so I have no choice but to be an outspoken advocate. The others have a harder choice, one that their peers reject violently and without nuance. And yet they choose to stand with Jewish pride in the land we are told we don’t deserve, but relentlessly reminded why we need.
I am grateful to this group for teaching me so much about their stories and about my own. Among them, I even made some true friends, a task that gets increasingly harder in a world saturated with false idols and inauthentic lives.
After the organized trip, I visited my family in the North, the only extended family I have. As we sat down for Shabbat dinner, I felt the feeling of home that people often describe when their tribe is together. When you live across the world from yours, a puzzle piece of your soul reattaches for even the shortest reconnection.
The next day, on a walk with my cousin, I ran into a childhood friend. I had met him on my family’s sabbatical in Israel when I was 12 years old. He no longer lived in the village, but happened to be visiting the same day as me, walking the same trail at the same time.
Another sign.
I had lived there at an age where life events are consequential to our personalities and trajectory. It reminded me of the confidence this place instilled in me, which has carried me throughout my life. If nothing else, I owe it to these people for the confidence they gave me — to remind them of how special they truly are, regardless of what the rest of the world thinks. To lighten the load of the “even” from the “evel.”
I visited my Father’s grave, a beautiful stone structure built for only the most epic of men. He rests exactly where he belongs, overlooking the land of his forefathers, beside his fellow countrymen.
His tombstone is labeled “Professor.” I questioned what identity I would want written on my own. I didn’t have an answer.
As a multi-hyphenate, I don’t do well with labels, or perhaps have yet to land on my own personal definition.
The trip ended with a cherished day of filming for my upcoming movie, continuing the long journey to tell a story I can’t wait to share with you all. It turns out that it doesn’t matter where I am in the world — if I’m making art on my own terms, I come alive.
This sign couldn’t be clearer.
It would be borderline blasphemous to not acknowledge the Divinity of using my God-given gifts in my ancestral homeland.
Perhaps I was right to be in this cohort after all. A true “hero’s journey,” I came back home changed, and armed with fresh perspective and new tools to do what I do best — tell stories. I guess I don’t need a new pendant for that.
No matter your background, I hope you’ll visit Israel and see it for yourself someday. It may not have all your answers, but, like me, it may leave you with new questions to explore.
And if you don’t, that’s OK too. I’ll be back again very soon, and eat enough Shawarma for the both of us.
Ari Frenkel is an actor, writer and filmmaker. He is known for his on-screen work in Amazon’s I’m A Virgo, HBO’s Silicon Valley, FX’s American Crime Story, and much more. He is the creator and star of the award-winning digital series Sorry, Ari. He is currently in production for his debut feature film, See You on the Other Side. Visit his Instagram, and website.
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Phase Two Begins: Will Hamas Uphold Its Ceasefire Commitments?
People walk past a billboard portraying the late Hamas leader Yahya Sinwar at the site of a rally held by protesters, mainly Houthi supporters, to show support to Lebanon’s Hezbollah and Palestinians in the Gaza Strip, in Sanaa, Yemen, Oct. 18, 2024. Photo: REUTERS/Khaled Abdullah
The United States has announced that the second phase of the ceasefire agreement between Israel and Hamas has now begun. While officials worry that not moving on to the second stage could encourage renewed fighting, the movement towards the second phase has also been met with trepidation from the Israeli perspective.
Notably, Hamas has yet to uphold its end of the agreement, consistently violating the ceasefire since its implementation by launching attacks on Israeli soldiers, crossing the yellow line into territory controlled by the IDF, and not returning all hostages within the first 72 hours of the agreement.
While all hostages, both living and deceased, were meant to return home 72 hours after the initial agreement was signed, Hamas has consistently delayed releases or indulged in misdirection and cover-ups. As phase two begins, the body of Ran Gvili, the final hostage being unlawfully held in Gaza, has yet to return home. It raises serious doubts about the extent to which the terrorist organization can be trusted to honor its commitments.
What Does Phase Two Entail?
The second phase of the ceasefire is meant to establish a transitional technocratic Palestinian administration in Gaza, known as the National Committee for the Administration of Gaza (NCAG). It will also begin the full demilitarization and reconstruction of Gaza, focusing specifically on the disarmament of all unauthorized personnel, such as Hamas and Islamic Jihad.
While Hamas is now supposedly signaling willingness to disarm, it has in the past made it explicitly clear that it is not interested in disarming until there is a clear process that will result in the establishment of a Palestinian state, least of all if Israel is still present in the Gaza Strip. Yet this requirement for disarmament must be met at this stage for Israel to continue its withdrawal.
Since the beginning of phase one, the IDF has been working tirelessly on the demilitarization of Gaza. Yet areas beyond the yellow line — the area of withdrawal controlled by the IDF — remain far from clear of terrorist infrastructure, as the IDF continues to uncover more tunnel systems.
All of these key components of the second phase need to work in synchronization. Hamas’ military grip on the Gaza Strip currently puts the terrorist organization in a position of de facto governance. If it relinquishes its military powers by disarming, it will create the possibility for the NCAG force to begin administering the civilians there.
The NCAG is meant to be an apolitical body overseeing daily life in Gaza. In this capacity, it could help support stabilization efforts, reduce the influence of terrorist organizations, and create space for long-term initiatives focused on education, reconstruction, and economic opportunity — key elements in fostering a more sustainable future. Additionally, the International Stabilization Force (ISF) will also be implemented at this stage to help establish and support a police force, allowing for further Israeli withdrawal.
The successful implementation of the second phase lays the groundwork for a stable and functional civilian administration in Gaza. Thus, this phase is not only about immediate security and withdrawal, but rather about building the institutional foundations necessary to ensure a stable future in post-war Gaza.
A Reminder From Oslo
This is not the first time Israel has entered into agreements with the Palestinians, only to face challenges stemming from a lack of enforcement, limited accountability, and differing interests.
In 1993, Israelis and Palestinians were similarly excited about the process of moving towards a future free of terrorism, incitement, and hatred.
The Oslo Accords called for the Palestine Liberation Organization (PLO) to formally recognize the right of the State of Israel to exist. In contrast, Israel recognized the PLO as the representative of the Palestinian people. Over the course of five years, the two parties were meant to reach a formal and comprehensive agreement. However, no such agreement was ever reached between the parties, and the breakdown of the process was followed by the launch of the Second Intifada, during which weapons originally intended for Palestinian security forces were turned against Israel.
Perhaps one of the most important requirements from the Palestinian side of the Oslo Accords was a commitment to education reform, intended to promote tolerance within the Palestinian education system. A lack of enforcement meant that this crucial factor was never implemented.
As a result, the Palestinian education system has — to this day — been one that indoctrinates Palestinian children with a vehement hatred of the State of Israel and the Jewish people, and calls on children to become martyrs by committing terrorist attacks. This means that the terrorists who committed the atrocities of October 7, 2023, grew up using textbooks that glorified terrorism after the fallout from Oslo.
While the world and the media may be ready to move on to phase two, it is crucial that Israel ensures the other side are held to their obligations. The aftermath of the Oslo Accords illustrates the consequences of failing to uphold commitments. The repeated disregard of terrorist organizations’ negotiated commitments ultimately undermined long-term stability. The current phase in Gaza presents a similar crossroads. Without careful oversight and accountability, a history of broken commitments and renewed violence could repeat itself.
The author is a contributor to HonestReporting, a Jerusalem-based media watchdog with a focus on antisemitism and anti-Israel bias — where a version of this article first appeared.
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What Happens Next for the US and Iran?
Iran’s Supreme Leader Ayatollah Ali Khamenei speaks during a meeting in Tehran, Iran, January 17, 2026. Office of the Iranian Supreme Leader/WANA (West Asia News Agency)/Handout via REUTERS
Having warned Iran’s regime, repeatedly and explicitly, not to brutalize its own people, President Trump now must figure out how to uphold his red line, avoid losing credibility, and impose serious costs on the regime — all without triggering a wider conflict.
Revolutionary regimes like the Islamic Republic try to delegitimize and deflect popular discontent by pinning it on external enemies. Although Trump has spoken out about the protests, Tehran ignored the Biden team’s glaring silence and still blamed America for the “Woman, Life, Freedom” movement just a few years ago.
It is therefore no surprise that the speaker of Iran’s parliament has said the country is already in a new round of conflict with America and Israel. Iranian officials also have threatened to attack US regional bases, including preemptively.
Even if the country’s recent nationwide protests have subsided for now, Iran’s regime is fundamentally both unable and unwilling to address the deep-rooted grievances underlying such widespread and steadily worsening internal discontent.
It is strictly a question of when — not if — major unrest returns, and with it, the regime’s enduring instinct and temptation to project its problems outward onto the “Big” and “Little” Satans of America and Israel. Brinkmanship also offers the regime hope of deterring military action during the moments of domestic crisis when its future is most in doubt.
There are plenty of salutary sanctions, cyberwarfare tools, and covert and kinetic options to support protestors, inhibit further crackdowns, and encourage the regime’s ultimate collapse.
By themselves, however, these options are unable to keep Iran from threatening or unleashing massive retaliation against US targets in the process.
A key element of President Trump’s response, and one that fulfills his promise of “hitting them very, very hard where it hurts,” should be to target the regime’s best retaliatory capabilities.
This means its short-range ballistic and cruise missiles, drones, missile boat swarms, anti-ship missiles, and mobile coastal batteries looming over the Gulf, Iraq, and American forces there. By combining mass with precision, the weapons are Iran’s readiest option to counter US threats against its internal security apparatus.
These capabilities were left untouched during the June war, when the United States and Israel focused on nuclear sites and longer-range ballistic missiles. They do not require the time-consuming loading and fueling of those longer-range missiles, and their flight times are shorter.
These short-range projectiles can be launched in large “bolt from the blue” attacks with little early warning, and in great quantities, that strain US-led defenses in the region. Unlike some of its other arsenals, Iran has dangerous incentives to strike first, fast, and hard with these weapons.
Moreover, this Iran weapons program would have an attractive array of high-value targets. American forces cluster in a small handful of bases and warships in the Gulf, adjacent to major energy terminals and the world’s most important energy shipping point in the narrow Strait of Hormuz. These sites do not have anything remotely like Israel’s air and missile shield, a concern reflected in recent comments from senior US military officials about needing time to prepare regional defenses.
Iran’s past attacks with these weapons reliably hit their aimpoints. Most memorably, Iran launched a surprise cruise missile and drone swarm against Saudi energy facilities in 2019, and a ballistic missile barrage against US forces in Iraq several months later.
Even though it chose to telegraph its missile strike on Al-Udeid airbase in Qatar last year, American troops had to evacuate in advance, given their lack of adequate defenses. Both during and since the June conflict, Iran has prepared attacks and conducted military exercises to target US forces and energy shipping around Hormuz.
Iran also knows from past practice that threatening such attacks can generate pressure on America from its Gulf partners, all of whom want to deescalate tensions that could otherwise shoot oil prices upward and jeopardize their ambitious, but vulnerable, economic development projects.
Iran’s regime should know its short-range weapons are central to the strike options being readied for President Trump’s consideration. America’s commander-in-chief should make painfully and explicitly clear that Tehran cannot escalate its way out of its predicament — at home or abroad.
Jonathan Ruhe is the Fellow for American Strategy at the Jewish Institute for National Security of America.

