Mel Brooks, who mocked Adolf Hitler in his 1967 black comedy “The Producers,” has always made the case for satire as a weapon against tyranny.
“You have to bring him down with ridicule,” he told “60 Minutes” in 2001. “It’s been one of my lifelong jobs — to make the world laugh at Adolf Hitler.”
Of course, Hitler was long dead and there were 6 million fewer Jews on the planet when “The Producers” came out. Before and during World War II, satire proved a futile weapon against the Fuhrer: Charlie Chaplin made “The Great Dictator” in 1940, similarly reducing Hitler to a buffoon. But by the time the movie premiered that October, nearly 3 million German troops had smashed into France, Belgium, Luxembourg and the Netherlands.
The futility of satire was on my mind when, on the Thursday after Election Day, I toured a new exhibit at the Jewish Museum on the Upper East Side in Manhattan. “Draw Them In, Paint Them Out: Trenton Doyle Hancock Confronts Philip Guston” features two artists, one Jewish, one African-American, whose work wrestles with racism, white supremacy and antisemitism.
Philip Guston, born Phillip Goldstein in Montreal in 1913, was inspired by the ferment of the 1960s to create a series of cartoonish paintings featuring hooded members of the Ku Klux Klan. In these almost cheerful paintings, the frightening avatars of white supremacy look like costumed children out of a Charlie Brown comic (or, more accurately, from “Krazy Kat,” a popular comic strip in Guston’s youth).
“These buffoonish Klansmen still today are a real rebuke, I think, to bigotry in all its forms,” curator Rebecca Shaykin, who organized the exhibit, said at the press opening. “They’re still just so incredibly powerful.”
About a third of the gallery is given over to Guston’s Klan paintings, as well as some of his earlier work. The rest features riotous paintings, cartoons and a film by Hancock, a Texas-born artist who was a child when Guston died in 1980 in upstate Woodstock, New York. Many........