FORGOTTEN ONES: EDDIE CANTOR

Eddie Cantor, born Isidore Itzkowitz in 1892, was one of the most influential entertainers of the early 20th century. Known for his expressive "Banjo Eyes," comedic timing, and musical hits like Makin’ Whoopee and If You Knew Susie, Cantor was a household name across vaudeville, Broadway, radio, and early television. Yet behind the cheerful persona and philanthropic efforts lay a more complex and sometimes controversial figure whose legacy is not without shadows.

Cantor was at the center of what is considered one of television’s earliest acts of censorship. In 1944, during a live broadcast, NBC abruptly cut the audio and shifted the camera away as Cantor performed a song with suggestive lyrics and a comedic dance. The network deemed the material potentially offensive, sparking a public dispute. Cantor, furious at the last-minute censorship, accused NBC of acting like “little Hitlers,” highlighting the tension between creative freedom and broadcast standards in the early days of television. 

This wasn’t the first time Cantor faced censorship. NBC admitted it had previously silenced him, though details remain vague. Cantor’s frustration reflected a broader struggle entertainers faced in balancing humor, innuendo, and public decency during a rapidly evolving media landscape.

Like many performers of his era, Cantor used blackface in his early vaudeville routines—a practice now widely condemned for its racist caricatures and dehumanizing portrayals. His character “Jefferson,” created in 1912, was part of a tradition that perpetuated harmful stereotypes. While Cantor later advocated for racial equality and supported Black performers like Sammy Davis Jr., his early career remains a troubling reminder of the entertainment industry’s complicity in systemic racism. 

Cantor was unusually outspoken for a celebrity of his time, especially regarding his Jewish identity and opposition to Nazism. In the late 1930s, he used his radio platform to denounce fascism and support Jewish refugees. This activism came at a cost—his sponsor canceled his show in 1939, a move widely interpreted as retaliation for his political stance. Cantor’s willingness to speak out, even when it jeopardized his career, marked him as a courageous but polarizing figure. 

Despite his success, Cantor wrestled with the limitations of his public persona. Typecast as a naive, effeminate character in films well into his forties, he sought to reshape his image as a serious and intelligent figure. His efforts to support Jewish causes and redefine his legacy often clashed with the comedic roles that had made him famous. 

Cantor’s immense popularity faded rapidly after his death in 1964. Though he was once one of the most bankable stars in Hollywood, today he is largely forgotten—a phenomenon some scholars attribute to his hybrid identity as both singer and comedian, which defied easy categorization. His contributions to entertainment and activism are undeniable, but his legacy remains complicated by the cultural norms of his time and the contradictions within his career...