Every documentary filmmaker fortunate enough to have a close relationship with his mother should include her in a film about his life.  Or at least bring her to his premiere so that during the Question and Answer period, she can set the record straight about the her son.  Josh Freed, the director and star of Five Weddings and a Felony, the recently premiered film as part of DOC NYC, was lucky to have both.

In a movie that focuses on the confused fumblings of the twenty-something year old Freed as he navigates his way through modern dating, the injection of some maternal sanity was deeply appreciated.    Early in the film, Josh tells his mother, a psychologist, that he is thinking about moving in with his girlfriend of six months.  She responds by suggesting that his twenties should be a time of experimentation and discovery of who he is in a romantic relationship.  She goes on to imply that he shouldn’t get into such a serious relationship so quickly.  Instead, in a move that will ring familiar to children of psychologists everywhere, she suggests that he go into therapy to a deeper understanding of himself and his motivations.  For the rest of the movie, the audience wishes he took his mother’s advice.

Armed only with a low-tech flip camera, Freed introduces us to his battlefield of urban courtship.  The movie opens with his first attempt: a movie about his burgeoning relationship with a more successful filmmaker.  When the relationship falls through, Freed is at loose ends both professionally and personally.   But soon, overwhelmed by the prospect of a swarm of close friends’ weddings, he embarks on a project to document his own relationships during the course of his ‘Summer of Five Weddings.’

What follows is a bird’s eye view of Freed as he tries to participate in the adult world of love and romance.  Nowhere are his efforts more convoluted than his sporadic relationship with Paulina, the younger sister of a good friend’s fiancée.   Their on-again, off- again relationship is mainly orchestrated by Freed who, insists that everyone should be liked by a girl like Paulina—and indeed she is effortlessly adorable and lovely—but can’t seem to figure out how he really feels about her.  When they are together, he pushes her away and when they are broken up, he is jealous of her other boyfriends.   The relationship that he most wants to emulate is the one between a childhood friend and her fiancé who is secretly growing pot in his basement and is emotionally incapable of dealing with the consequences.

If Freed wasn’t an engaging filmmaker, it would be easy to excuse this attempt at self-reflection as a youthful confusion of self-confession and superficial honesty as true depth.  Instead, this film frustrates because he could have used his skills to delve more deeply into his motivation and other more universal themes such as intermarriage, class, and loss that appear on the periphery of the story.  In one of the most poignant scenes of the film, Freed and his mother are on the roof of their apartment building soon after they discover that his father was diagnosed with a rare form of cancer.  As his mother looks into the camera, she tells her son how much he means to them and how much they appreciate his spending time with them as he is making his movie.  For a few minutes, a more caring and selfless picture of Freed emerges providing a softer counterpoint to his other on-camera persona.  A less self-involved filmmaker would have used the opportunity to explore how the possible loss of his father might affect him, his parents, their relationship, and what he might want from a marriage—which after all is the point of dating.

As for the central relationship in the film between Paulina and Freed; it too would have benefited from a richer analysis.  Instead of just focusing on the game-playing aspects of their quasi-relationship, Freed could have used the opportunity to discuss issues of class and religion that surely would come up between the two of them; the son of Jewish upper-middle class parents and the daughter of a deeply Catholic Mexican immigrant family.

For those looking for a fluffy movie about the stumbling dating habits of bright young things, Five Weddings and a Felony may be for you.  But if you’re looking for a better understanding of why twentysomethings seem so clueless when it comes to relationships, this movie will not offer any real answers.  Perhaps you will need to wait for Josh Freed’s next movie–after he’s spent some time on the therapist’s couch.

The post Reviewed: “Five Weddings And A Felony” appeared first on Jewcy.

In Germany, they would find a progressive, stable democracy that has undergone an intense period of soul-searching regarding its Nazi period-an effort manifesting itself in all areas of society-from the arts to academia to politics.  According to a recent American Jewish Committee (AJC) poll, 90% of "well-informed groups" (as defined by the AJC) as well as AJC leaders believe that Germany has made a "sincere effort to deal with the legacy of the Holocaust."  Even Holocaust survivors Elie Wiesel and former Knesset member Yosef Lapid have acknowledged Germany’s efforts.  In an interview with Haaretz a few years ago, Lapid said, "it would be an injustice if Israel did not recognize that Germany has changed, that it is democratic and free." These hypothetical Israelis would also join the ranks of the roughly 60,000 (and growing) Israelis that already have German citizenship.  Perhaps they, too, would choose to settle in Berlin, home of the largest Jewish community in Germany, and expand the ever-growing population of Israelis living there.  They could worship freely at the numerous synagogues in the city, party with other Israeli Jewish expats in the hip Mitte neighborhood and be part of the flowering music and art scene. In Berlin, to paraphrase one young Israeli expat, they would be citizens of the world.

If Jews returned to Poland, they would find that it, too, has evolved over the past 7 decades.  Its post-war history contributed to its significant difficulties in confronting its anti-Semitic past, but real change is discernable.  Recent years have brought a rise in interest in Jewish life and culture, past and present, from the annual Krakow Festival of Jewish Culture to Polish-led Facebook efforts to commemorate the Holocaust.  Many of these changes are being instigated by the younger generations who are acutely aware of their countries’ tangled Jewish-Polish history and are working to change the mindset of those around them.  As Rabbi Michael Schudrich, the chief rabbi of Poland, said in an interview with The New York Times earlier this year, "The level of anti-Semitism remains unacceptable, but the image of the murderous Pole seared in the consciousness of many Jews after the war doesn’t correspond to the Poland of 2010." 

Thankfully, Ms. Thomas’ scenario will not come to pass.  But if there is one good thing that could result from this incident, it would be the opportunity for American Jews to reexamine their worldview.  The Germany and Poland of today are not the Germany and Poland of the 1930s and 1940s and do not deserve to continue to be treated as if nothing has changed since then.  While the tragedies that took place there should always be remembered, American Jews should also recognize and celebrate the Jewish life that has risen from the ashes.

This is not to excuse the offensiveness of the comment or to paper over the real issues that do exist.  Anti-Jewish and anti-Israel rhetoric occurs, especially in the wake of ongoing unrest in the Middle East but that does not mean that these countries have never evolved.  Hateful incidents do happen but they are as contrary to the values of modern-day Germans and Poles as they are elsewhere in the West.  Visiting or even settling in Germany or Poland as a Jew today is not a death sentence.  So please, let’s stop treating it like one.

The post The Helen Thomas Travel Plan appeared first on Jewcy.

How Birthright structures its program raises significant questions.  The organization’s website describes its mission to "diminish the growing division between Israel and Jewish communities around the world."   Yet for all its advocacy of fostering stronger ties between Diaspora and Israeli Jews, the trip offers little opportunity for young Jews to connect with Israelis themselves, and from them understand the daily realities and nuances of living in Israel.   Discussions on the trips focus primarily on Israel’s past with "a mandatory 40 hours of educational lectures about the history of the state and Zionism" (according to Ben Murane, a former peer leader).  Contemporary issues are glossed over in favor of an emphasis on Biblical-era Jewish history and grand philosophical questions.  There are moreover few unstructured opportunities to experience contemporary life and minimal interaction with Israelis. Marissa Katz, a Birthright alum from Long Island, described her interaction with Israelis as limited to tour leaders and a few young soldiers. When contemporary topics are broached, they are typically presented from a politically conservative viewpoint, often lacking nuance and context.  Another participant from a trip in 2000 told me that while she loved being in Israel, she "bristled… at elements of the trip that seemed a bit ‘indoctrination-ish’ — especially because some of the people on the trip didn’t know enough about Israeli culture and politics to know they were only being presented with one side of a controversial debate."  Discussions are tightly controlled-Murane explained that "…[there is] lots of oversight into what should be said -and there is virtually no critical examination of Israeli history or the impact of Israel’s tangled relationship with its neighbors on Israeli society or outside.  Yet according to the November 2004 Birthright Israel Research Report, seventy percent of students feel "at least somewhat confident" about their abilities to explain the political situation in Israel at the conclusion of their trip,.  This number is consistent with the goals of the Birthright leadership who, as defined by the same report, "[want] to enable young Diaspora Jews to speak intelligently about the situation in the Middle East from a perspective sympathetic to Israel." How can such a significant proportion of Birthright participants feel so knowledgeable and speak intelligently about Israel on college campuses when they are not exposed to the full complexity associated with Israeli history and politics?  Birthright leaders advertise their trip not only as an opportunity to visit the spiritual center of the Jewish people, but also as a way to educate unaffiliated Jews about contemporary Israel.  A program that limits its participants’ full exposure to Israeli life, culture, and politics, however, falls far short of this promise. Please do not misunderstand me.  This is not a general repudiation of Birthright’s mission or the opportunities that it offers.  The chance to go abroad and visit Israel as a college student with members of your own peer group for free is a wonderful experience.  I should know, I took many similar trips to other countries between the ages of 18 and 26.  I also know, however,  that expecting to speak intelligently about the history and politics of any country after a 10-day highly regulated trip there is like visiting Disney World and offering yourself up as an expert on world politics and culture.  This knowledge gap is only magnified when the country in question is Israel.    What Birthright provides is a fun, but ultimately unbalanced view of Israel and its history.  This is not sufficient.  In order to be truly deserving of its accolades, its leaders must face a critical decision.  Do they want to offer a spiritual and historical guided tour to young Jewish adults and hope that the glimpse will inspire them to return and experience Israel more fully? If so, then the funders should acknowledge as much and not suggest that the participants are qualified to speak about contemporary Israeli politics on campus.  If, on the other hand, Birthright’s leaders want to offer a true educational trip that consistently presents multiple sides of the complex and messy reality that is Israel today, then it needs to foster difficult discussions with speakers of all political, ethnic, and religious backgrounds and encourage probing questions.  Additionally, both options should offer participants greater opportunities to meet and mingle with ordinary Israelis in more informal settings including Shabbat dinners with families, home-stays, and mixers-all successful staples of standard travel abroad programs.  In this Obama generation, young Jews, more than ever, are motivated and excited by a plurality of ideas and approaches. This multifaceted view of Jewish life, especially in regards to Israel, is often rejected by traditional organizations thus forcing young Jews to seek other ways to connect to their identity.   They deserve a space for nuanced discussion about Israel and Birthright is in an excellent position to provide it. Only then can the real education can begin.

The post Redesigning Birthright for the Next Decade appeared first on Jewcy.

To be perfectly honest, I feel queasy about this approach. First of all, much of what the Center does focuses on Lublin’s Jewish past. Which is important and necessary. But in doing so, it also looks backwards and not ahead. There is increasing evidence that Jewish communities in Poland not only exist, but are growing. Just look at the articles recently published by JTA. So why isn’t the Center celebrating and advertising those triumphs? It could easily choose a young 20-something living Polish Jew to talk about his life, his experiences, and his hopes to friends around the world.

Secondly, how can Heino’s story, as horrific as it is, help us today? If more non-Jews are aware of Jewish life in Poland pre-Holocaust and about their subsequent extinction through Heino and his Facebook page, then, again, I applaud the Center’s efforts. But it does no good to focus solely on the Holocaust and not address contemporary issues and conflicts. It is not enough to examine the past and proclaim what we should have or would have done. Indeed, it is too easy to demonstrate support for a long-deceased boy from the comfort and safety of our own homes via computer. Efforts like these are gimmicks, superficial stabs at righting old wrongs that we can never right, however we might wish it otherwise. No matter how many friends Heino makes, they will never be able to save him from death.

Issues of anti-Semitism and intolerance and racism continue to exist in Poland, just as they exist everywhere. There are contemporary victims of other types of oppression and violence around the world whose fates are not sealed and for whom our actions can make a difference. These are the people that we should be creating Facebook pages for. The Center could harness the power and energy of social media and its users to offer a means to organize and fight against injustice that can actually make a difference. If nothing else, we owe to it Heino.

This post originally appeared on In This Moment and is reprinted with permission. 

The post Do You Want to Friend This Dead Child? appeared first on Jewcy.

Jonathan Chait, a journalist for the New Republic and one of the discussants, addressed these issues by suggesting that J Street has cast its net too wide and insisting that it needs to be clearer in defining itself.  If not, he added, it would continue to attract unwelcome supporters.  This fear was made tangible by an exchange between the panelists and a female audience member.  A self-defined peace activist, the woman stood up and declared, "I don’t love Israel."  She went on to say, however, that she feels a great deal of sympathy for the people of Israel and is an advocate for peace in the region.  In response, the panelists asserted that if she isn’t comfortable declaring that she "loves Israel," then perhaps she doesn’t belong in J Street.  

By focusing solely on what people say rather than what their intentions are, we shun complexity for simplicity.  Throughout the event, Jeremy Ben-Ami, J Street’s Executive Director, emphasized repeatedly, that J Street’s mission is to encourage a plurality of voices in a conversation that has too often been reduced to one voice.  In order to do that, we must be willing to hear someone say that she does not love Israel.  Instead of turning her away, we can ask her to unpack her statement, to clarify her position.  When simple words like ‘pro’ or ‘love’ are such polarizing forces-as they are when it comes to discussing Israel and the Israeli-Palestinian conflict– it is essential that a progressive voice, such as J Street wishes to be, continue to provide a space for a multiplicity of definitions of these words.  This does not mean, of course, that it should be accepting of all views, such as those who question Israel’s right to exist or who use radical language to discredit its leadership.

The debate over language is not a trivial one and speaks to the larger question: how should J Street define itself?  In his speech, Chait said that he sees it as a conflict between a broad definition and a narrow one.  I disagree.  It is instead a conflict over how to reconcile its centrist and activist ambitions.  To be an effective political organization, J Street needs to maintain a moderate position, clearly define itself and be willing to repudiate statements that are seen as questionable by the mainstream public.  However, to be a catalyst for change, it must remain an open tent, available to all those who  support Israel‘s right to exist and have an emotional attachment to the existential meaning of the state of Israel, but who differ on what forms that support should take. Activists such as the woman in the session are outspoken and assertive and represent the energy that J Street needs to continue to build grassroots support.  It cannot afford to push her, and many others like her, away.  The centrist and activist sides feed off of each other and the enthusiasm that each generates pushes it closer to becoming a significant player on the political scene.  At the same time, each side’s positions have been, and will continue to be, used by critics to discredit the overall goals of the organization.   How this conflict is handled will determine J Street’s effectiveness in the future.

With the rise of J Street, a swath of the American Jewish community feels that it finally has a place where its voices can be heard.  For too long, this kind of debate has been publically stifled while it has flourished in private.   The 1,500 conference goers are back in their communities eager to open up the discussion among their peers.  This is not the time to shut down the conversation.  Rather it’s time to ask: What took them so long?

The post How Do You “Love Israel”? appeared first on Jewcy.