Skip To Content
JEWISH. INDEPENDENT. NONPROFIT.
Culture

Inspired by Henson — and Schneerson

Dovid Taub has two main inspirations: Jim Henson and the Lubavitcher rebbe. Through his ability to knit threads of holiness and ancient kabbalistic wisdom into the fabric of his puppetry, Taub has created a comedy sitcom to which fellow Hasidim return every week. The “Itche Kadoozy Show” features a Hasidic rabbi and his troublemaking young neighbor who poke lots of fun at each other and see the world through very different eyes, yet ultimately learn life’s mystical lessons from each other. Through these opposing characters, Taub brings a new dimension to his genre — secularism and sacredness mingled into one — leaving all types of fans begging for more.

To get to the heart of the Itche Kadoozy phenomenon, one must first climb four long, narrow staircases at 770 Eastern Parkway in Brooklyn and enter the crowded office of Chabad.org’s headquarters. In a tiny 8-by-8 room with a small, narrow window, Taub is busy with his puppets. Equipped with a green screen, bright lights and a camera on a tripod, the room is flooded with his handmade puppets, costumes and interchangeable features that become new faces on blank heads. It is in this room that Taub, a 25-year-old married Hasid living in Crown Heights, performs his puppetry while taping it with the use of his camera’s remote control. He then digitally inserts props, backdrops and sets, bringing the characters to virtually any location.

In an interview with the Forward, Taub said he created Itche — the show’s rabbi and one of its main characters — by accident, during his time as a counselor at a Hasidic summer camp. Disappointed by the way his first hand-sewn puppet turned out, he purchased a book on puppet making and re-created “Itche” (who, though only 4 in puppet years, is presented as a 60-ish rabbi on the show and boasts a long gray beard, a black yarmulke and a raspy voice).

When Taub shared his invention with Jonathan Goorvich, his childhood friend, Goorvich was “blown away.” Taub then taught him puppet making, and Goorvich created a puppet that reflected himself: casual college student with open plaid shirt, baseball cap and dark glasses. After the two friends improvised and taped these two puppets together, Jono was born: the show’s second main character, a secular Jew who lives in the rabbi’s basement. The characters befriend each other, and together they experience wacky adventures and mishaps with esoteric and practical lessons to be learned.

Taub and Goorvich — like Itche and Jono — are great friends and connect despite external differences. They grew up five houses apart in Deerfield, Ill., creating comic books, animated videos and action figures. Their “collective creativity,” Goorvich said, continued as the two became adults and chose different paths. Goorvich headed to film school in Chicago and now works for a major movie studio in Los Angeles, while Taub, previously Reform, went to yeshiva in Brooklyn to become an Orthodox rabbi. In yeshiva he struggled with how to incorporate his talents with his newfound observance while also wanting to teach others deeper lessons in Judaism.

“I always imagined as a kid that I’d continue doing fun things with animation,” Taub explained. Then, three years ago, Chabad.org hired Taub to do animation for its Web site, and he brought the early seeds of the show that he and Goorvich had developed as weekly “webisodes” for their own site. He began filming episodes, based on these characters, that taught basic concepts in Judaism, then he went on to produce a full year of “Parshah Reports” (a show within the show, conveying the weekly Torah portion as a comic news report). This year he’s been focusing on longer holiday series. Although Taub works on a very small budget and handles every aspect of production himself — from writing, taping and editing to recording voice-overs and sewing — the show has become a popular hit for thousands of fans, Hasidim and non-Hasidim alike.

Part of its appeal seems to be the quirky characters and original, witty plots. It was Henson’s work that inspired Taub to explore puppetry as an outlet for comedy. Taub borrows Henson’s approach — a children’s show that adults appreciate, humor that “doesn’t talk down to children” but challenges them. He says the greatest thing he learned from Henson is “the un-limitation of the imagination, to create anything I want to and bring it to life.”

In an early episode, Jono purchases a talking pet gefilte fish that wears a carrot slice as a yarmulke and excels at board games. He tells the rabbi that the fish makes him feel more Jewish. “I remember how my grandmother always had gefilte fish, so when I saw this crazy little guy in a spooky shop in Chinatown I just felt like I had to get him.” The references Taub imbues in the characters are meant to appeal to a wider audience, without alienating more observant fans. He says that the show “speaks to different types of Jews in an equal way,” with Jono relating to secular Jews and Itche to Chabad rabbis who reach out to students on campus. Although Itche is the rabbi stacked with the facts, “Jono brings out more of an emotional, universal message that Itche learns from,” Taub said. “Everyone is trying to grow in their Jewish identity. One isn’t considered right or wrong [on the show], they’re just different types of people.”

Goorvich, who is still a creative source for “Itche Kadoozy” and who helps Taub edit drafts, says that the show has made him “a lot more in touch with Judaism.” “I’m a regular Jewish guy like Jono,” he said, “learning through the process about my religion and culture.” Although Jono is a “younger, more naive caricature” of himself, Goorvich said they both “through humor express something more poignant.”

Sara Trappler Spielman is a freelance writer living in Brooklyn.

I hope you appreciated this article. Before you go, I’d like to ask you to please support the Forward’s award-winning journalism this Passover.

In this age of misinformation, our work is needed like never before. We report on the news that matters most to American Jews, driven by truth, not ideology.

At a time when newsrooms are closing or cutting back, the Forward has removed its paywall. That means for the first time in our 126-year history, Forward journalism is free to everyone, everywhere. With an ongoing war, rising antisemitism, and a flood of disinformation that may affect the upcoming election, we believe that free and open access to Jewish journalism is imperative.

Readers like you make it all possible. Right now, we’re in the middle of our Passover Pledge Drive and we need 500 people to step up and make a gift to sustain our trustworthy, independent journalism.

Make a gift of any size and become a Forward member today. You’ll support our mission to tell the American Jewish story fully and fairly. 

— Rachel Fishman Feddersen, Publisher and CEO

Join our mission to tell the Jewish story fully and fairly.

Our Goal: 500 gifts during our Passover Pledge Drive!

Republish This Story

Please read before republishing

We’re happy to make this story available to republish for free, unless it originated with JTA, Haaretz or another publication (as indicated on the article) and as long as you follow our guidelines. You must credit the Forward, retain our pixel and preserve our canonical link in Google search.  See our full guidelines for more information, and this guide for detail about canonical URLs.

To republish, copy the HTML by clicking on the yellow button to the right; it includes our tracking pixel, all paragraph styles and hyperlinks, the author byline and credit to the Forward. It does not include images; to avoid copyright violations, you must add them manually, following our guidelines. Please email us at [email protected], subject line “republish,” with any questions or to let us know what stories you’re picking up.

We don't support Internet Explorer

Please use Chrome, Safari, Firefox, or Edge to view this site.