By Bill Simons

Jews figure prominently in the history of American comedy. Time magazine estimated that nearly 80 percent of U.S. comics were Jewish. That’s enough of a prompt for me to forward my Top 10 list of Jewish American comedians/comediennes. 
Only Americans are eligible, thus expect no riffs on ironic rabbinic texts or the tummel in the Book of Esther. Charlie Chaplin was emperor of comedy, but he wasn’t American and his ties to Judaism unclear. Following a trajectory from stereotypical dialect on the vaudeville stage to a staple of mass media, Jewish American humor has evolved amidst immersion in democracy, assimilation and commercialism. 
I focus exclusively on performers, so literary scholars need not fear appropriation of novelists Sholem Aleichem or Philip Roth. Most of those on my list largely eschewed overt ethnic content. However, beyond membership in “the tribe,” the performers selected express a Jewish sensibility. Although Jewish comics have ranged from the very proper Sam Levenson to the scatological mashugana Andrew Dice Clay, my designees exhibit some, not necessarily all, of the cultural traits often attributed to American Jews: wit as a defense mechanism against our depressive history, the vantage point of an outlier, self and group criticism, confrontation with the absurdity and cruelty of the larger society, a commitment to social justice, quick intelligence and evidence of warmth even when exhibiting anger or indulging bias (think Don Rickles and Jackie Mason). Oh, eligibility was limited to real people, thus excluding the truly marvelous Midge Maisel, as well as her Gentile muse, Rachel Brosnahan.
Before constructing my masters of shtick taxonomy, I consulted several comedy mavens amongst friends and associates. Although I was influenced by their thoughtful suggestions, ultimately the selections are mine. Number one signifies my top comic with the rankings then descending. Regardless of the topic, any time two Jews get together, three opinions emerge, so debate is anticipated and appreciated. 
1. Groucho Marx. The overwhelming favorite amongst my correspondents, Groucho gets the nod for first place. Even his appearance – thick black eyebrows and mustache fashioned more by makeup than follicles, mischievous eyes peering out from rimless glasses and an aggressively forward-bent posture – elicited laughter. In classic movies with brothers Harpo and Chico, Groucho punctuated the pretentions of the privileged elite, frequently represented by the regal Margaret Dumont. Subsequently going solo, notably as radio and television host of “You Bet Your Life,” he elevated riposte to an art form. With a few words, Groucho did more than sociologists to capture that distinctively Jewish amalgam of insecurity and resentment: “I refuse to join any club that would have me as a member.” 
2. Jack Benny. On radio and TV, the former Benjamin Kubelsky was the maestro of comedic timing. Reflecting Jewish unease in the temporal world, Benny, in character, would sigh, “Well!” during frequent bouts of frustration. Presenting a faux version of himself, Benny poked fun at his own vanity, obsession with remaining 39 and cheapness. In his best-known skit, an armed robber accosts Benny, threatening, “Your money or your life!” The long silent pause evoked prolonged audience laughter. When the gunman finally repeats, even more menacingly, “Your money or your life!” Benny retorted, “I’m.... thinking it over.”
3. Woody Allen. Don’t I know about the accusations that he abused his own children? Yes, and those accusations are serious. However, they remain contested and unproved, and I lack the knowledge to discern their veracity and thus confine commentary to Allen’s comedic career, eschewing character and legal judgment. Smart, but not academic, during his Bronx youth, Allan Konigsberg changed his name to Woody Allen and ascended quickly as a comedy writer before becoming a performer. As a 1960s standup comic and during his early years as film actor/director, the bespectacled, smallish Allen perpetuated the stereotype of the neurotic, overintellectual Jewish nebbish obsessed with shiksas, most famously in “Annie Hall.” Over time, however, Allen matured into a brilliant and prolific moviemaker, retaining the Jewish milieu, but exploring serious matters, punctuated with comic relief. As his films evolved into artfully crafted ensembles, his screen personae changed from sardonic kvetch-protagonist to savant commentator. Amidst the laughter, “Hannah and Her Sisters” explores depression (overcome by watching old Marx brothers’ films), loss of Jewish belief, interfaith romance, complex sibling and parental dynamics, and male mentoring providing camouflage for domination of women. In “Crimes and Misdemeanors,” a respected Jewish ophthalmologist literally gets away with the murder of a jilted mistress who had threatened to expose their affair. Carrying metaphoric meaning, “Crimes and Misdemeanors” features a rabbi, both patient and confidant of the ophthalmologist, going blind, highlighting the juxtaposition between guilt, conscience and an amoral universe gilded by wit. The film’s dark defining line asserts: “Comedy is tragedy plus time.”
4. Alan King. The son of Jewish immigrants, he grew up as Irwin Kniberg in working-class New York City neighborhoods and looked, sounded and moved more like a former boxer or gangster turned bouncer than an entertainer. Indeed, King was an ex-fighter and, with his tough guy looks and ubiquitous cigar, he played gangsters in several films. Growing up in combative environments, he gravitated toward comedy, a means of self-defense and a barbed jab toward adversaries. His angry rants morphed into storytelling and King became comedy’s pre-eminent monologist. With an amalgam of loud fury, ridicule and humor, he attacked everyday inefficiencies, stupidities and slights. In long-form vignettes, King targeted insurance companies, airlines, hospitals, contractors, taxes, bureaucrats and widows who inevitably outlived their husbands. However, his bellicose outrage was leavened by a visceral warmth, solidarity with the underdog and heimish character. King frequently emceed fund-raisers for Jewish charities and Israel. Explaining his on-stage personae, King confided, “Let’s face it: It’s difficult enough to be funny without worrying about what is going to offend whom.”
5. Elaine May. Due to the brevity and intermittency of her career, as well as long periods of reclusively, May, now in her 90s, is oft forgotten. Although she went onto screenwriting and directing, it is her brilliant arc as a performer, specifically doing improvisational comedy teamed with Mike Nichols on television and records, that was transformative. May with Nichols, wrote critic Richard Brody, “brought improv comedy out of the night clubs and into the forefront of pop culture.” In the “Water Cooler Talk” sketch with Nichols, May, more sophisticated and creative than contemporaries Totie Fields and Joan Rivers, wisely observed, “A moral issue is always so much more interesting than a real issue.”
Part II of “Masters of shtick” will complete our comedian minyan.