TIFF09—A History of Israeli Cinema / Historia Shel Hakolnoah Israeli

Raphaël Nadjari’s A History of Israeli Cinema / Historia Shel Hakolnoah Israeli, Pts. 1 & 2, played at the Berlin Film Forum, then screened at this year’s San Francisco Jewish Film Festival (SFJFF), where Janis Plotkin wrote in her program capsule: “Israel as a nation is far younger than motion pictures; in fact, its modern identity has been formed in parallel with the medium of film. Israeli films, when seen unfolding over time as they do in this engrossing retrospective documentary, reveal a cinematic national identity that encapsulates the emotional reality of a country often torn by ethnic, religious and political conflicts.”

A methodical albeit sprawling three and a half-hour inventory, I was at first put off by this documentary’s somewhat nationalistic intensity, though—upon a second viewing—I could more easily digest its voluminous information, and came to appreciate—as Plotin has contextualized—how the history of Israel and the history of cinema have, in effect, grown up alongside each other. That being said, however, an appetite is required for this feast. This is one of the few instances where I will admit that watching a film on screener proved advantageous, allowing me the opportunity to take a break now and then when oversatiated. As an in-cinema experience, I’m not quite sure how comfortably this will play (which is not to say that a film’s efficacy should be determined by its comfort). At Variety, Alissa Simon found it “fascinating and frustrating” and complained the film was “structured using a dialectical method that denies a satisfying synthesis of ideas.” At the San Francisco Bay Guardian, Dennis Harvey compliments that the “hazy” narrative of how the Israeli cinema industry got to where it is today “clears up quite a bit after three and a half hours.” “Its epic length,” Thom Powers writes succinctly in his TIFF capsule, “is earned by having a lot to say.” As Powers further attests: “The documentary's two halves are as distinct from each other as the historical periods they represent. Each part can be viewed independently, but a taste of one will surely give you the appetite for the other.” If I had to play Solomon, however, I’d probably recommend the second portion over the first, simply because the profiled films are more current if not relevant and reflect my own vested participation in SFJFF’s programming of the last decade.

I’m definitely glad I caught A History of Israeli Cinema at SFJFF because—in solidarity with John Greyson’s boycott of TIFF’s CTC (City to City) program—I doubt I would have caught it in Toronto. In fact, were it not for the boycott and schedule conflicts, I would have likewise been interested in Assi Dayan’s Life According to Agfa (1992), highlighted in the documentary. Hopefully, along with several of the other referenced films, these will become available through revival screenings here and there in less contentious atmospheres. Cameron Bailey’s official response to John Greyson’s open letter of protest suggests that—by Greyson’s reasoning—“no films programmed within this series would have met his approval, no matter what they contained.” Greyson had complained: “Why are only Jewish Israeli filmmakers included? Why are there no voices from the refugee camps and Gaza (or Toronto for that matter), where Tel Aviv's displaced Palestinians now live?”

Bailey has made a respectable effort to defuse Greyson’s insinuation that exclusion of the Palestinian perspective implicates TIFF in Israeli propaganda. He points to other programs at TIFF that feature Palestinian, Egyptian and Lebanese filmmakers; but, again, these are not the programs to which Greyson objects. As the programmer of CTC, Bailey defends his focus on Tel Aviv: “I was attracted to Tel Aviv as our inaugural city because the films being made there explore and critique the city from many different perspectives. Furthermore, the City to City series was conceived and curated entirely independently. There was no pressure from any outside source. Contrary to rumors or mistaken media reports, this focus is a product only of TIFF’s programming decisions. We value that independence and would never compromise it.”

Despite Bailey’s assertion of the independent conception and curation of TIFF’s Spotlight on Tel Aviv, he does not substantively address Greyson’s concern that Israeli Consul General Amir Gissin openly expressed in an interview with the Canadian Jewish News that TIFF’s Spotlight is the culmination of his year-long Brand Israel campaign, which has included bus/radio/TV ads and an exhibition of the Dead Sea Scrolls at the Royal Ontario Museum. Gissen said Toronto was chosen as a test-city for Brand Israel by Israel's Foreign Ministry, and thanked Astral, MIJO and Canwest for donating the million-dollar budget. Greyson reminded that Astral is a long-time TIFF sponsor, and Canwest owners' Asper Foundation donated $500,000 to TIFF. Gissin boasted in the Canadian Jewish News article: "We've got a real product to sell to Canadians... The lessons learned from Toronto will inform the worldwide launch of Brand Israel in the coming years.”

“[M]any questions remain for me about its origins, its funding, its programming, its sponsors,” Greyson stated to the TIFF heads of programming. “You say it was initiated in November 2008 ... but then why would Gissen seem to be claiming it as part of his campaign four months earlier? You've told me that TIFF isn't officially a part of Brand Israel—okay—but why haven't you clarified this publicly? …Why is TIFF accepting and/or encouraging the support of the Israeli government and consulate, a direct flaunting of the boycott, with filmmaker plane tickets, receptions, parties and evidently the Mayor of Tel Aviv opening the spotlight? Why does this feel like a propaganda campaign?”

As cogent as Greyson’s critcisms might be, in all fairness to the CTC program and A History of Israeli Cinema specifically, its second volume poignantly references Palestinian concerns as inflected through cinema. In fact, I would say the documentary accurately informs how these concerns have been ongoing and evolving for some time, often with films guiding government policy and public opinion. Cultural boycotts within the cinematic community itself might merely be a next stage.

Equally, though not specifically referenced in A History of Israeli Cinema, Eytan Fox’s The Bubble—which has been included in the CTC lineup—recontextualizes the naïve “Romeo & Juliet” (i.e., Jewish & Arab) romances popular in Israel during the ‘80s by queering the conflict as a “Romeo & Romeo” romance. Interestingly enough, when The Bubble screened in San Francisco at our 2007 Frameline Festival, I asked director Eytan Fox his thoughts regarding the protests staged against Frameline's acceptance of financial contributions from the Israeli Consulate to secure his attendance at the festival. He answered at that time: “I can understand why people got upset that it was sponsored by the Israeli consulate. I see that happening again and again with people who are upset with Israel, with its policies. They don't like the fact that it's a formal thing, that Israel the country, the state, whatever, is supporting [the film]. It's usually Palestinians or people connected to Palestinian causes or just people who are critical of Israel's policies. I understand where these people are coming from; but, in this case, in a film like The Bubble, they should read what the film is about, and realize it can support their cause.”

Israeli filmmaker Udi Aloni—who supports the Canadian protest and is calling on Israeli artists to take the same steps—addressed a letter to Eytan Fox and Bubble co-creator Gal Uchovsky, asking: “Are Israeli artists [Foreign Minister Avigdor] Lieberman’s new foreign service cadets?” At Haaretz, Tahel Frosh reports: “According to Aloni, Israeli artists need to rethink their participation in the festival. ‘Wherever they appear they must decide if they are representatives of the Foreign Ministry or of an uncompromising opposition to occupation and racism in Israel,’ he said. ‘Israeli directors don’t have to be defensive and ask “Why are they attacking us?” but say to the Canadian directors: “We're with you on this. We don’t represent Lieberman; we represent the opposition.” There are only two options. It’s no longer possible to shoot and cry.’ ”

Eytan Fox’s hope that audiences will focus on the content of his film tracks with Bailey’s defense that—despite the absence of a Palestinian filmmaker in the CTC program—content and form do matter to the TIFF programmers. He encouraged audiences to see the films before passing judgment; to not denounce the series before seeing the films. Timing, however, seems to be trumping content in this particular instance. Bemoaning the fate of the films with their festival audiences does not sufficiently distract from what feels like ill-conceived and mistimed programming. The films will survive and be seen elsewhere but—at the 2009 Toronto International—they might have to weather diluted enthusiasm.

Cross-published on Twitch.

SFJFF09—Eight Michael Hawley Screener Previews

The 29th San Francisco Jewish Film Festival (SFJFF) begins this Thursday, July 23 and continues through August 10 at various Bay Area venues. You'll find me at the Castro Theater much of this coming weekend, catching some of the festival's most highly-anticipated titles like Defamation, The Yes Men Fix the World and Acné. Meanwhile, here are capsule write-ups of eight films I previewed on screener, roughly in order of most favorite to least.

Zion and His Brother—Director Eran Merav makes an assured feature film debut with this gritty, affecting family drama set in working-class Haifa. Fourteen-year-old Zion both worships and despises his older brother Meir, a hot-headed miscreant who makes life miserable for their divorced mother and her older boyfriend. When tragedy erupts over mistaken identity and a stolen pair of shoes, Zion is forced to reevaluate his allegiances and life direction. The performances are first-rate, particularly the never-less-than-amazing Ronit Elkabetz (The Band's Visit, Late Marriage, Or) as the mother, and a remarkably intense Ofer Hayan, making his screen debut as the older brother. I'm still pondering the film's abrupt ending.

Yoo-Hoo, Mrs. Goldberg—Chances are you've never heard of broadcasting pioneer Gertrude Berg, a writing-acting-producing powerhouse who was once the highest paid woman in America. That's an embarrassment Aviva Kempner handily sets right in this breezy, informative documentary. Debuting on radio one month after the 1929 crash, her family sit-com The Goldbergs gave comfort to Americans throughout the Great Depression and WWII, with her character Molly Goldberg yoo-hoo-ing to neighbors from across her Bronx apartment airshaft window. The program brought Jewish family life into millions of homes, and was second in popularity only to Amos and Andy. In 1949 the show made the switch to TV, which resulted in Berg winning the first ever Emmy Award for acting (she'd also win a Tony Award in 1959 for A Majority of One). Kempner's film does a winning job of profiling Berg, from her youth in the family's Catskills resort hotel, to her fierce defense of blacklisted actor and union activist Philip Loeb, the actor who played her husband Jake Goldberg. At the July 28 screening at the Castro, Kempner will receive this year's SFJFF Freedom of Expression Award. And if you want to see more of The Goldbergs, there's a separate festival program comprised of four back-to-back episodes of the TV show.

The Wedding Song (Closing Night Film)—A Jewish girl and Muslim girl, best friends and both of marriageable age, are the protagonists in Karin Albou's powerful new film set in 1942 Nazi-occupied Tunis. Nour desperately wants to wed her finance Khaled, but until he finds employment they must settle for clandestine rooftop trysts arranged by her Jewish friend Myriam. Myriam, on the other hand, is being forced by her increasingly desperate mother (played by the director) into an arranged marriage with the arrogant, wealthy Jewish doctor Raoul (a reliably terrific Simon Abkarian). Meanwhile, the radio blasts anti-Semitic propaganda, Khaled gets a job helping Nazis round up Tunisian Jews and Raoul is sent to a labor camp—all of which tests the girls' loyalties and courage. With one brief exception, Albou sets her film exclusively within the claustrophobic confines of the Tunis medina, effectively mirroring her characters' constricted circumstances. She also takes pain to ensure that her male characters are not one-dimensional monsters—except for the Nazis of course. Finally, I was delighted to hear, of all things, Nina Hagen's Naturträne being used as a musical leitmotif throughout.

A History of Israeli Cinema—At 210 minutes long, this documentary won't appeal to anyone with a mere casual interest in its subject matter. But if you've spent the past 10 years watching Israeli cinema develop into one of the most vital in the world (my own starting point was Amos Gitai's 1999 Kadosh), this doc will provide you with an essential, evolutionary roadmap. From early Zionist works to the "New Sensitivity Cinema" of the 60's to the art films of today, director Raphaël Nadjari skillfully demonstrates how the nation's psyche has been continually reflected in its cinema. Broken into two parts (1933-1977 and 1978-2007), the film never strays from its staid film-clips-and-talking-heads format—and that's OK. My only complaint is that the ample clips are not identified by year of release, making it somewhat difficult to envision a timeline.

I Am Von Höfler—Hungarian documentarian Péter Forgács is a SFJFF regular, which culminated in his receiving last year's Freedom of Expression Award. In his singular style, he tells stories of 20th century European Jews using only narration, sound effects, photos, letters, home movies and ephemera. His remarkable subject this time out is one Tibor Von Höfler—heir to a Pécs leather tanning dynasty who was also a motorcycle enthusiast, erotic photographer, womanizer and pianist—and whose long life bore witness to the Great Depression, WWII (he was half-Jewish on his mother's side) and the rise and fall of communism. Forgács' engrossing new film pieces together a seamless biography, giving the viewer a vivid sense of time and place, customs and mores. It has been hypothesized that an 18th century relative of Von Höfler's served as the inspiration for Goethe's The Sorrows of Young Werther. In the film's only misstep, Forgács inserts clips from a dated, hippie-ish 1976 short called Werther and His Life, directed by his Balázs Béla Film Studio cohort, Janos Xantus. These clips pop-up throughout, adding incongruity and bloat to the 160-minute running time.

Lost Islands—This was Israel's biggest box office hit of 2008 and it's easy to see why. It's a big, rambunctious family dramedy set in the early '80s with a catchy pop soundtrack. The first half is almost cartoonish in its depiction of family squabbles and teen antics, the latter perpetuated by a pair of unlikely twin brothers who lust after the same classmate. The film takes on emotional weight, however, after a tragic accident causes dreams to be deferred, and the First Lebanon War threatens to destabilize the family and a nation. This is no art film, but it is broad, populist filmmaking at its most enjoyable—with terrific performances, offbeat humor and a genuine love for its characters.

A Matter of Size (Centerpiece Film)—Four overweight Israeli men find self-acceptance in sumo wrestling. That's the unique premise of this agreeable, but strictly formulaic comedy which is unsurprisingly on track for a Hollywood remake. Due to his weight, hulking Herzl has lost his job and been 86-ed from his dieting club. Inspired by a televised sumo match at a Japanese restaurant (where he now works as a dishwasher, and whose owner is conveniently a former sumo trainer), he convinces his friends to take wrap themselves in a mawashi and start rasslin'. In the conflicted process, life lessons are learned and romance blooms for all involved. If you've enjoyed plucky British arthouse comedies of recent years (think The Full Monty, Calendar Girls, Waking Ned Devine), you'll probably like this. If not, you probably won't.

Hello Goodbye—Last and least comes this strained, unconvincing farce about a non-observant Parisian gynecologist (Gerard Depardieu) and his convert wife (Fanny Ardant) starting life anew in Israel. With the deck stacked against them from the get-go (his job vanishes, their condo remains unbuilt and their shipping container falls into the Mediterranean), the film bludgeons drama and yuks out of Israeli bureaucracy, his circumcision and her infatuation with a studly, pot-smoking young Rabbi (a wasted Lior Ashkenazi). A jarringly erratic and inappropriate pop music soundtrack (Peter Bjorn and John's Young Folks plays against a praying scene at the Wailing Wall) compliments the narrative like a berserk iPod shuffle. In contrast, the SF Chronicle's Mick LaSalle found the film to be "funny," "perceptive" and "illuminating." Perhaps you will, too.

Cross-published on film-415 and Twitch.