cover image Banjo Eyes: Eddie Cantor and the Birth of Modern Stardom

Banjo Eyes: Eddie Cantor and the Birth of Modern Stardom

Herbert G. Goldman. Oxford University Press, USA, $35 (440pp) ISBN 978-0-19-507402-4

Cantor was one of the biggest stars of the 1920s, '30s and '40s, yet he is almost entirely forgotten by anyone under 50. Despite Cantor's dominance of stage, screen and airwaves at the time, other performers--Jolson, Burns & Allen, the Marx Brothers--are better known. His current anonymity weakens the premise of this ultimately disappointing biography: that Cantor was the first modern ""celebrity"" star, someone who shared his life to such a degree that the public felt it owned him. Like many comedians, Cantor used his family and personal life as ready material. Raised in sordid poverty by an indulgent grandmother, the orphaned Cantor was a wild ""Dead End kid"" from the East Side with little education and a penchant for petty thievery. He discovered his ability to perform at summer camp, and as he rose slowly through vaudeville to stardom in the Ziegfeld musical comedies, Cantor displayed an exuberant, winning charm that made him enormously appealing. Goldman painstakingly details Cantor's incredibly busy professional, personal and philanthropic life, down to, one suspects, the last lunch date. But while there seems to be no anecdote too trivial to include, Goldman is vague about the widespread rumors of Cantor's womanizing and his ruthless treatment of co-workers. A complex and contradictory man, Cantor personified the preeminent Jewish value of anonymous charity, but at the same time he cheated associates out of deserved pay. Goldman's uncritical treatment is broad but not deep enough to explain Cantor's perplexing personality. (Oct.)