Elmer Bernstein

No, he wasn't related to Leonard Bernstein. They were friends, they were both musical geniuses, they were both Jewish, and they both probably spent an aggregate decade of their lives explaining that they were not brothers. In fact, they were jokingly nicknamed "Bernstein West" (Elmer, who conquered Hollywood) and "Bernstein East" (Leonard, who conquered Broadway and the concert hall).

Born in New York to Ukrainian-Jewish immigrants, Elmer showed early promise as a dancer and painter before settling on the piano. Aaron Copland (yes, another Jewish composer, because of course) noticed his talent and helped guide his musical education. During World War II, Elmer wrote music for Army Air Force radio broadcasts, and by the 1950s, he was in Hollywood redefining cinema sound. When the Red Scare briefly derailed his career because he had written music reviews for a communist-leaning journal, he survived by scoring B-movies like Cat-Women of the Moon and *Robot Monster*—a masterclass in professional resilience.

Once the blacklist nonsense faded, Bernstein basically scored everyone's childhood, adolescence, and mid-life crisis. From the sweeping, iconic brass of The Magnificent Seven and The Great Escape to the delicate tenderness of To Kill a Mockingbird, he could do it all. Then, just to prove he had a sense of humor, he spent the late 70s and 80s composing deadpan, hyper-serious orchestral scores for absurd comedies like Airplane!, Animal House, and Ghostbusters.

Over five decades, Bernstein racked up fourteen Academy Award nominations (winning for Thoroughly Modern Millie) and cemented his place on the Mount Rushmore of film scoring. A full lifetime of nachas, completely unencumbered by having to share royalties with Leonard.