American Chutzpah
"King David had major chutzpah. Queen Esther, Maimonides, Jonas Salk, Golda Meir…even Adam Sandler. The bravery, the guts, the willingness to hang your ass out on the line is a very Jewish quality."
By Ross Kagan Marks
When I was 20 years old, I wanted to be an actor. I had abandoned my plans to be a lawyer or politician – or thoroughbred racehorse handicapper – and decided I wanted to be a storyteller. From the inside out. One who portrays characters and people. I wanted to lose myself inside other fictional human beings.
I took an acting class in Hollywood from an old school acting guru named Vincent Chase. There were quite a few celebrities in that class: Traci Lords, Steve Perry’s wife, Rams’ superbowl quarterback Vince Ferragamo, and a woman whose name I can’t remember who won Wimbledon doubles. Plus me and several other aspiring dreamers.
One day Vincent told us he was going to hold a talent show. All the students in the class had to display some sort of talent. Or at least something they thought they were good at and wanted to pretend for a few minutes that they had real talent. I tried my hand rather unsuccessfully and unceremoniously at stand-up comedy. I remember my opening line: “If you don’t like my jokes, don’t throw tomatoes, throw me out of the class.” It was shortly after that contest that I realized I didn’t have what it takes to be an actor. But that’s another story. And another lesson.
At the Vincent Chase Acting Class Talent Show, there was a young man from Hawaii who’d moved to L.A. to become an actor. I can’t remember his name for sure, but it’s “Morrie” in my mind (I tend to give some people the names of old Jewish men since that’s my frame of reference). The reason I remember Morrie at all is not because of his talent. It was moderate at best, like me. But that night, at that talent show, he taught me a lesson I have never forgotten; one buried deep inside my DNA as a Jew.
He sang Kenny Rogers’ “Lady.” His voice was pretty good, not great. Sort of an off the Vegas strip cocktail lounge kind of good. But the way in which he sang that night has haunted me to this day. He belted it out with such gusto, such enthusiasm, such verve, as if he was singing to 100,000 adoring fans; not 12 students in an acting class. He poured every ounce of his being into that song. He literally cried as he sang. And I cried as I listened. He taught me that night to give your absolute, unflinching best. It doesn’t matter the venue, the audience, the crowd – give it everything you have. In Yiddish we call it “chutzpah.” Morrie from Hawaii’s rendition of “Lady” had more chutzpah and life in it than even Kenny Rogers’ version, which I would hear in person years later.
As I watched and listened to Morrie that night, I was in awe. How could someone perform with such heart and passion to such a small audience with such low stakes? He believed in himself. And he believed that what he was doing, what he was singing, was the most important thing in the world. He had Hawaiian chutzpah (though I’m pretty sure Hawaiians have another name for it). I remember thinking that if this guy can pour everything he has into that song, then I can certainly pour everything I have into everything I do all the time. Or at least try.
Ever since that night, I have given everything. The 110% rule. I’ve risked and failed with enormous enthusiasm. I’ve had great success with this approach to life, having worked as a filmmaker now with three Academy Award winners – Al Pacino, Brendan Fraser, and Faye Dunaway. And while I’ve won a few medals myself, far more often I’ve failed – miserably. Yet spectacularly.
Though I never saw Morrie again after that night’s talent show, I learned that you can’t succeed if you don’t give it your very best, your full effort, ALL THE TIME. If you do that, you never really fail. Because the effort, the process, the attempt itself is the very definition of success. It’s the journey. Not the destination.
Jews have this quality in spades going back to Moses. It took serious chutzpah to stand up to Pharaoh and thousands of Egyptians. Cross the Red Sea? Belief begot balls.
King David had major chutzpah. Queen Esther, Maimonides, Jonas Salk, Golda Meir…even Adam Sandler. The bravery, the guts, the willingness to hang your ass out on the line is a very Jewish quality. It’s what’s led the Jews to survive and thrive for thousands of years against consistently overwhelming odds.
Chutzpah has also been the root of Jews’ roles as groundbreakers and game changers throughout history. In politics, science, medicine, business, literature in the arts. In my world, Mel Brooks’ risk-taking literally led to his own genre of filmmaking.
Chutzpah is a Yiddish term that has found its way into the American lexicon. It means audacity or nerve. To act in a bold, often brazen manner. For me, the word is a way of life.
The term itself comes from the Hebrew word "ḥuṣpāh" (חֻצְפָּה), meaning "impudence" or "audacity." Its migration into Yiddish, and subsequently English, reflects the historical experiences of Jews in Europe and their integration into American culture. The concept became popular in the 20th century, especially as Jewish comedians and writers began using it in their routines and works. Popular figures, such as author and speaker Leo Rosten, helped cement its place in the American vernacular through the exploration of Jewish humor.
When I started the Las Cruces International Film Festival with my students at New Mexico State University, people thought I was crazy. But collective chutzpah is what turned that dream into the largest student run film festival in the country. We just celebrated our 10th Anniversary with 12,000 people in attendance.
I see chutzpah as far more than just a word; it encapsulates a cultural ethos that celebrates courage, boldness, and a bit of cheekiness, illustrating the complexities of assertiveness and social norms within the Jewish experience and beyond.
For me, it’s who I am. Where I’m going. The life I lead. It’s my mantra. And it was taught to me by a non-Jewish Hawaiian named Morrie. I only wish I knew what his real name was.
ROSS MARKS is a writer, producer and director who teaches film at New Mexico State University. He is the founder of the Las Cruces Int’l Film Festival.
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