The opening titles of the new film The Catcher Was a Spy set the scene in 1938, when the Nazis tapped physicist Werner Heisenberg to build an atomic bomb. “In response, the U.S. government sent a Jewish baseball player to assassinate him,” reads the subsequent cue card.

That premise conjures up two well-known—and extremely different—Jewish action films in relatively recent memory. The first is The Hebrew Hammer, the absurd send-up about a Jewish superhero saving Hanukkah from the son of Santa Claus, best remembered for its protagonist’s signature catchphrase, “Shabbat Shalom, motherfucker!” The second is the Oscar-winning Inglourious Basterds, Quentin Tarantino’s violent and entirely fictionalized tale of a group of American soldiers, including one nicknamed The Bear Jew, who operated during World War II hunting and brutally executing Nazis.

Neither of those is a good barometer for what this film is, and it’s not just because this one is based on a true story. Nicholas Dawidoff’s 1994 book The Catcher Was a Spy profiled Moe Berg, a popular baseball player known for his intellect, knowledge of world events, and mastery of multiple languages. In addition to his fifteen-season career as a catcher, Berg was recruited by the Office of Strategic Services, which would later become the CIA, to use his considerable skills off the field to combat the threat of a Nazi victory during World War II. Popular Jewish actor and comedian Paul Rudd portrays Berg in what may well be the most straight-laced performance of his career.

There’s really no signature moment in which Berg gets to execute some sort of symbolic Jewish revenge on his Nazi targets, and his Judaism, while referenced as the hook of the film, doesn’t come up much. Instead, it’s his sexual orientation that gets more attention, with Berg not conforming to societal expectations of a nuclear family and pursuing men, even if his era can’t acknowledge or respect that. What’s most interesting about Berg’s undercover operations is that he goes in without hiding his celebrity status since no one would possibly suspect that a baseball catcher would be serving as a spy for the American government, gathering crucial intelligence while in town for a highly-publicized sports visit.

The best source of comparison for this film is The Monuments Men, George Clooney’s light-hearted ensemble piece about a group of Allied soldiers sent to save precious art during World War II. Like Clooney’s film, this one seems to take place within its own little bubble in which its characters seem to be impervious to harm and to events happening around them, narrowly pursuing their aims without much interference from enemy troops or other focal points of the war. The notion of a team dedicated to protecting artwork when so many humans lost their lives during the Holocaust didn’t go over so well with some Jewish audiences, and The Catcher Was a Spy at least presents a more serious mission. Berg’s objective is an important one, since his actions may directly prevent the Nazis from a devastating accomplishment that could change the course of the war.

Those expecting Rudd to transform into Ant-Man and punch a Nazi scientist in the face will be sorely disappointed with this film, but they will find a nuanced and straightforward drama about an unexpected spy who was very good at his job. Rudd is joined by a number of prominent actors, including Paul Giamatti, Connie Nielsen, Sienna Miller, Guy Pearce, Tom Wilkinson, Giancarlo Giannini, and the film’s comedic standout, Jeff Daniels, in this slow-burn period thriller from director Ben Lewin, whose previous credits include The Sessions.

The Catcher Was a Spy opens in theaters and on demand this Friday, June 22.

Image: Paul Rudd as Moe Berg, in Ben Lewin’s THE CATCHER WAS A SPY.  Courtesy of IFC Films. An IFC Films Release.

The post Jewcy Review: ‘The Catcher Was a Spy’ appeared first on Jewcy.

The Hasidic population is portrayed occasionally in film and television, usually as a way of demonstrating extremism, or exploring how someone is grappling with breaking the fundamental rules of observant Judaism. It’s not too common to find a self-described “dark buddy comedy” where one buddy is a Hasidic cantor and the other is Matthew Broderick, but that’s exactly what one film showing at this year’s Tribeca Film Festival features.

Shmuel, played by Géza Röhrig, who starred as the title character in the Oscar-winning Son of Saul, has just lost his wife to cancer and doesn’t know what to do next. He consults his rabbi after having dreams about how her body will break down in the earth, and nothing he hears makes him feel any better. Realizing that he needs to know exactly how her body is decaying so that her neshama can safely leave, he wanders outside his community to find a scientist. Though Albert, a community college professor, is hardly the expert in such things, Shmuel refuses to relent, and the two ultimately begin a lengthy experiment that involves burying a pig to track its decomposition process.

Would a Hasidic man ever go to a non-Kosher Chinese restaurant to purchase a dead pig, then transport it in his car before burying it in the ground himself? Probably not. Asked at a Q & A following a Tribeca screening, director Shawn Snyder said that he frequented “Hasidic speakeasys” where those who have either left or have one foot out of the community gather, and that the film had both a Hasidic advisor who consulted on the script and another on set. Röhrig, who is observant, joked, “Kids, don’t try this at home,” explaining that this is not an educational movie but rather one that takes certain artistic liberties for the sake of art, fictionalizing elements but disciplined enough to never approach blasphemy.

Shmuel and Albert definitely don’t become fast friends, and it’s clear how different the worlds they come from are. Shmuel stumbles into the closest college he can find looking for a scientist, asking the female receptionist if he can speak instead with a man, and he guilts Albert into helping him by angrily explaining how much he has sinned by even coming to such a place. Albert, seeing Shmuel’s garb, repeatedly refers to him as “Rabbi,” and when he does learn his name, he calls him “Shmel” for half the film. It’s among the wildest, unlikeliest friendships ever concocted on screen, and, however far-fetched it may be, there are glimpses of reality to be found within it.

Shmuel is the one who can’t move on from his wife’s untimely death, but his two sons, Noam and Naftali, are also featured in a subplot that finds them trying to dispel the rumor that their father has been possessed by a dybbuk. Naturally, this involves breaking into the principal’s office at their yeshiva in a scene reminiscent of A Serious Man to steal a copy of the old black-and-white film The Dybbuk and then blowing a shofar at their father’s feet while he is sleeping to urge the spirit of their mother to let him go. At one point, when Shmuel takes his sons out on the water to tell their mother that he loves them, one protests, “this isn’t Jewish.” Much in this film may not seem to be, but it’s all about grappling with loss as people.

Snyder shared his own story that inspired the making of this film. Nine years ago, he lost his mother, and though he comes from a Reform background, there are still specific mourning rituals in place that he described as “psychologically profound.” He still found his own grief “spilling outside the bounds of that requirement” and, nine years later, he still mourns. He had difficulty with the fact that he never felt comfort at her grave, and compared the Jewish timeline for grief with wondering what his mother’s body looks like after seven days, or after a month. He notes that he is very squeamish, and that this film, which involves some grisly imagery, is the least likely product he could have imagined.

Röhrig, who said that he could relate to the character of Shmuel because, sooner or later, everyone goes through this process, cited the aninut period between death and burial as especially holy, explaining that, for Shmuel, it spills over beyond twenty-four or forty-eight hours. He fielded one particularly interesting question from an audience member who shared her experience of being Christian and having her mother’s body on display during the wake. He responded that it is forbidden in Judaism to show the body, likely because the rabbis wanted to “keep it real”— make facing the death of a loved one not a visual experience, but an inner struggle.

This is an indisputably unique, creative interpretation of what it means to grapple with loss, one that turns out to be quite entertaining thanks to the pairing of Röhrig and Broderick. It hasn’t been picked up for distribution just yet, but you can catch it again tonight or this Saturday night at the Tribeca Film Festival.

Image via the Tribeca Film Festival

The post Jewcy Reviews: ‘To Dust’ appeared first on Jewcy.

Based on the short film of the same name, the new Freeform series Alone Together, created by and starring Jewish LA comedians Esther Povitsky (AKA Little Esther) and Benji Aflalo, doesn’t take itself too seriously. With Andy Samberg, Akiva Schaffer, and Jorma Taccone of The Lonely Island on the production team, madcap antics are to be expected.

In a very quotable pilot, we meet Povitsky’s and Aflalo’s fictional counterparts, also named Esther and Benji, as they are discussing the morality of one-night stands. “I’ll have you know that the walk of shame is an anti-feminist construct,” Esther tells Benji, who has just picked her up at her date’s house, to which he replies, “You’re just too lazy to walk.”

Throughout the episode, Esther and Benji find themselves in a variety of humorously uncomfortable situations, from being insulted by a green juice-slinging goddess at a trendy juicery (“I’m only a lesbian to guys under 5’10,” she tells Benji as Esther stockpiles spirulina chips) to joining an escort service to get paid to eat mac and cheese at an upscale restaurant in sweatpants (watching Povitsky act opposite Parks and Rec’s Jim O’Heir, who plays her date for the evening, is a hoot).

But those looking for the SoCal millennial equivalent of the Golden Globe Award-winning Marvelous Mrs. Maisel will have to look elsewhere. On screen, Povitsky — who you might recognize as Maya from Crazy Ex-Girlfriend — deals in pathos rather than moxie. And, as her scene partner and platonic life partner, so does Aflalo. Think of Esther, the character, as Midge Maisel’s antithesis (Midge’s drunken debut at the Gaslight notwithstanding): unpolished in style and bearing, quick to make a self-deprecating remark about her appearance, and all too eager to have one-night stands with chubby guys to raise her self-esteem.

We’re meant to sympathize with the show’s pretty-darn-Jewish-looking heroes, short, brown-haired, and blessed with assets other than conventional Hollywood looks, but there’s nothing clever or innovative about body-shaming. Even if Esther calls herself a feminist and defends Benji at that elitist juice spot (“Shaming a guy ’cause he’s short is like shaming a girl ’cause she’s overweight”), she feels highly insecure.

“The name Esther isn’t like really for a hot girl, so I feel like I’m Esther pretty because that’s as pretty as you can be with the name Esther,” Esther tells O’Heir’s character when he asks her to tell a joke. At a pool party his sister throws, Benji offhandedly mentions Esther’s stomach flab. “We call it her equator,” he jibes.

Still, as a character study of two neurotic outsiders trying to find their place — platonically, of course because, as Esther phrases it, “Just because we’re both small and undesirable doesn’t mean we should date” — the show succeeds. The repeated put-downs may be tough to chew, but you’re ultimately glad that Esther and Benji have each other to binge-watch Daria together while noshing on nachos. They can’t seem to assimilate to the superficial reality of LA, a world peopled by shiksa goddesses and svelte clothing designers (among them Benji’s sister, played by Ginger Gongzaga, whose comparative height and flawless complexion are a genetic mystery).

There is, if you look closely, power even in our most pathetic foibles. With the bar set so low, Esther and Benji are bound to succeed in life eventually, one poor decision at a time. Who needs spirulina chips or a juice cleanse to achieve that “hot girl” glow when a healthy dose of schadenfreude will do the job?

Alone Together airs Wednesday nights at 8:30.

Image via Freeform

The post ‘Alone Together’ appeared first on Jewcy.

During her acting heyday, Hedy Lamarr was described as “the most beautiful woman in the world.” The Austria native was well-known in Hollywood in the 1930s for her appearance in the German film Ecstasy, which featured her entirely nude in one memorable scene, and soon became a part of the American movie industry thanks to a contract with Louis B. Mayer. But there’s much more to the inimitable Lamarr than meets the eye, and a new documentary entitled Bombshell: The Hedy Lamarr Story seeks to unmask the true story behind a woman who should be remembered for much more than just her beauty.

Lamarr’s story began in a Jewish home in Vienna. Her early marriage to a rich Austrian man closely connected with both Mussolini and Hitler started her career out in Europe, but she soon fled to Paris and then came to the United States with the promise of an exciting film career. She starred in some memorable movies, to be sure, but her legacy doesn’t compare to the likes of other actresses of the time, and her final film appearance came just twenty years after her Hollywood debut.

The way in which Lamarr was used by the moviemaking industry is particularly disturbing, with stories of how she would be given speed in the morning to wake her up and sleeping pills at night to put her to sleep so that she, like other actresses, could be ready to function at exactly the moments when she was needed to fulfill her contract. Her twenty-five-year relationship with Dr. Max Jacobson, better known as Dr. Feelgood, meant that she was constantly being medicated and rarely able to function as a person normally should, leading her to become a recluse, get arrested for shoplifting, and even sending a stand-in for herself at a divorce hearing (to predictably poor results).

Through all of this, Lamarr was still a pioneer in the area of technological innovation. She was responsible for developing a frequency hopping system designed to combat frequency jamming by the Nazis during World War II, a system that was put to much more use by the United States later on and is attributed as an early inspiration for modern-day tenets such as wi-fi. Much more than just a pretty face, Lamarr was decades ahead of others in the science and technology industry and eager to have her ideas come to fruition.

Lamarr’s Jewishness wasn’t something that she discussed often since it was seen as a black mark on her purity as an actress, and she had also been married to a man considered to be a Nazi sympathizer. This history led many to believe that she was a spy, deliberately sent to sabotage Allied war efforts, when it couldn’t have been further from the truth. Bombshell shows that amongst the many unfair aspects of her life, Lamarr was extremely under-appreciated as a scientist in her time. Even the patent she received for a “Secret Communication System” didn’t give her the rights it should have. Her little-known contribution, only acknowledged many years later, is reminiscent of Alan Turing’s story, brought to life on screen in The Imitation Game a few years ago.

In a fascinating anecdote, this film also shows that Lamarr’s two lives, as scientist and actress, converged in an unexpected way. As she aged, Lamarr had a good deal of plastic surgery and took an active role in telling the surgeons what to do, figuring out innovative ways of continuing to look young. Actresses, both at the time and after, would ask for whatever Lamarr had suggested, showing her influence and the respect people had for her. Lamarr died in 2000, more or less a recluse by the time of her passing at age 85.

This documentary does a superb job detailing Lamarr’s life and uncovering her true personality through interviews with her adult children and with others who interacted with her during her life, including Mel Brooks, Woody Allen, and Peter Bogdanovich. German-born actress Diane Kruger is also featured, discussing Lamarr as a role model for those who come from Europe to make it in Hollywood. Much of Lamarr’s story features disappointing and unfair developments, and this documentary manages to convey it all in an engaging and, yes, entertaining manner.

Bombshell: The Hedy Lamarr Story opens Friday, November, 24, at the IFC Center in New York City, and is slated to screen at a number of Jewish film festivals after that.

Image via Zeitgeist Films

The post ‘Bombshell: The Hedy Lamarr Story’ appeared first on Jewcy.

The fact that there are so many films, both documentaries and narratives, about the Holocaust speaks to multiple needs. There’s the need to remember those who died, but more often the incredible power of survival of so many despite horrific and unimaginable circumstances. Yet the sheer number of stories of those who still live — or at least lived past the end of the Holocaust — represents an immense contradiction in relation to the number of people who died and were not able to have their stories told. Steven Spielberg’s choice to put a girl in a red coat in color when the rest of Schindler’s List was in black and white was extremely meaningful, but the thousands around her who also died remained nameless. Though it might appear that there a lot of Holocaust movies, some of which are accused of serving as “Oscar bait,” there are still so countless stories left to tell.

The new documentary Red Trees comes from filmmaker Marina Willer, who created the short film that turned into this full-length feature as an exploration of her family’s life in Prague before the rise of the Nazis and their subsequent exodus to Brazil. Marina’s family was one of just twelve Jewish families to survive World War II in Prague, one statistic among the many in this film that are disheartening, including the decimation of the Czechoslovakian Jewish population from over 300,000 to less than 15,000 by the end of the war. On her Kickstarter page to fund the original short film, Marina explains that, even back in 2015, “war, violence and persecution has left one in every 122 humans on the planet a refugee, internally displaced or seeking asylum.” Her film is meant in part as a wake-up call to governments not to turn their backs on families seeking survival.

It is, primarily, the story of her father, Alfred, who was a man of prominence in Prague thanks to his contribution to the invention of citric acid. Tim Piggot Smith acts as the narrator, speaking as Alfred, explaining how he would hide the formula in his wife’s recipe book whenever the Nazis would come to search for it so that he could avoid become irrelevant and likely being killed. Alfred tells harrowing tales of what life was like in Prague for the Jews once the Nazis rose to power, and it’s hard not to find parallels to present-day cinematic explorations of dystopias. The Handmaid’s Tale might be referenced more for its terrifying depiction of the total loss of reproductive rights for women, but its swift and systematic disenfranchisement of an entire gender, conveyed in one scene where all the women who work at a company are let go and escorted from the building, bears a frightening resemblance to Alfred’s recollections of Jews having to ride in the last car of the tram, not allowed to sit even if surrounded by empty seats.

It’s important not to forget, and that’s a big component of what Marina is doing here by showcasing her father’s life. Yet there is also light to be found in this particular film, which finds the Willer family successfully emigrating to Brazil, where Alfred describes his first action as looking for a banana to eat since he has not had one in seven years. The multicultural society found in Brazil stands in stark contrast to the divisions and dehumanization that he found in Prague, creating a path for him to move into a new career as an architect. Brazil was a true melting pot that welcomed in so many survivors from World War II, and for the Willer family, it was their chance to start over.

This film’s title comes from the way in which Alfred discovered at a young age that he was colorblind. When he drew trees, he would color the leaves red, which to him meant nothing but allowed him to make an important realization. Those types of moments are what make this film an invigorating and affirming experience, one that lingers on people and moments to truly capture the feelings they stir. Cinematographer César Charlone, who has worked with director Fernando Meirelles on City of God and The Constant Gardener, collaborates with Willer to create what is described as an “impressionistic visual essay” that pays great tribute to one man who survived when many didn’t.

Red Trees opens on September 15th in New York at Lincoln Plaza Cinemas & Quad Cinema and in LA at Laemmle Royal.

Film still courtesy Cohen Media Group

The post Jewcy Review: ‘Red Trees’ appeared first on Jewcy.

One of the most popular movies in Israel is coming to theaters in the United States, bringing with it a decidedly Israeli story about a Jerusalem congregation’s struggle to rebuild when it must start from a new foundation.

The premise is simple enough – during a Shabbat morning service, the women’s balcony in a Jerusalem synagogue collapses. The only one injured is the rabbi’s wife, though her hospitalization triggers a worsening in the condition of the aging rabbi, who retreats to his home, almost entirely cutting off communication with the outside world. Zion (Igal Naor), a close friend of the rabbi and the grandfather of the Bar Mitzvah boy whose journey into Jewish adulthood was interrupted by the collapse, is one of the ringleaders in trying to repair the synagogue. This operation that comes to be supervised by Rabbi David (Aviv Alush), whose views on religious customs differ considerably from those of the community, triggers a schism within the congregation about the very literal place of women in their synagogue, something they advocate for strongly.

Rabbi David’s entry into the equation comes as a result of an act of kindness, as members of the newly buildingless congregation stand outside their temporary space trying to get a minyan. After a number of men pass them by, he eagerly accepts their invitation to pray but first goes to recruit a number of people from his yeshiva upon learning that he will only be counted as the fifth man. He is struck by the sight of the destroyed synagogue, including the Torah scroll that was crushed when the balcony fell. He asks Zion and members of the community if they will allow him to provide rabbinical supervision for the reconstruction of the synagogue, and problems then begin to emerge when the newly-remodeled sanctuary is very noticeably missing one thing: a women’s balcony, which has now been replaced by what one angry wife describes as an outhouse.

This is a distinct story that could only serve as the plot of a film in Israel. There exists so much diversity between the denominations of Judaism within the United States that this almost seems like a hyper-specific difference of opinion that would ultimately prove inconsequential. In Israel, Judaism and observance are so intertwined with everyday secular life that it makes sense that this situation could present itself. The most comparable entry here in America is probably Is That a Gun In Your Pocket?, which was released this past September and chronicles the happenings in a Texas town where women banded together to withhold sex from their husbands until they got rid of their guns. That may be politics instead of religion, but in both cases, the wives champion a cause and struggle to get their husbands to join them in that same battle.

There are many levels of nuance here, particularly when it comes to a woman’s role in the synagogue. Just as Orthodox women who wish to have their own experience with a Torah at the kotel are an underrepresented segment of a debate that far more often features the more liberal Women of the Wall, this has nothing to do with women taking on an increased role in religious life. Instead, it is about a maintenance of the same traditions that have helped the community to thrive over the years, and the hostile way in which someone who believes that he knows better comes in to try to change things under the guise of religious purity.

This film does a tremendous job of showing the process by which people are compelled to become “more religious” (or, more colloquially, “flipping out”). When he is initially introduced, Rabbi David is defined by an act of kindness and selflessness. One particularly inspirational and passionately-delivered sermon praises women as far greater than men, exempted from studying scripture, and he suggests that the men present should buy their wives a present. This token of love, it turns out, is something far more deceptive, since the gift each man gives his wife is a scarf meant to cover her hair, denoting that they must become more pure by adopting a custom that has never been part of their way of life.

This film contains a good deal of commentary on what it means to be religiously respectful to those who practice Judaism differently. When one woman, Tikvah (Orna Banai), who has begun dressing very modestly and covering her hair, rudely declines an invitation to the home of Zion’s wife, Ettie (Evelin Hagoel), she reminds Tikvah of the time they were traveling in Greece and a flirtatious waiter brought her pork chops on the house, which she pretended to eat and instead fed to a cat. Ettie also puts up a fight when Rabbi David, eating as a guest in her home on Passover, insults her late father’s religious knowledge by deeming the use of a Shabbos goy to fix a circuit breaker forbidden.

Mixed in with all this exploration of what it means to be Jewish, religious, and respectful is a highly entertaining film about a community defined most by social interactions framed in a religious context. Banai and Alsh both picked up Ophir nominations from the Israeli Film Academy, as did the film’s music, costumes, and makeup, but the entire cast, particularly Naor and Hagoel, is terrific. There is drama coursing through this film’s veins since the threat to stability that this new reality presents is real, but there’s also a lightness present throughout that makes the film supremely enjoyable. Its heartwarming nature may not present any real-life solutions, but it’s a great movie nonetheless.

The Women’s Balcony officially opens Friday, May 26.

Still courtesy of Menemsha Films.

The post Jewcy Review: ‘The Women’s Balcony’ appeared first on Jewcy.

The Divine Miss M seems to be recovering nicely from losing Jewish Celeb Madness.

Was there ever any question that Bette Midler in Hello, Dolly! would be anything other than an Experience? And since I saw it one day before opening night, wouldn’t it be silly for me, a humble Standing Room Only patron, to join the parade of rave reviews and bandy about words like “legend” and “star charisma?” For months, the words “Bette Midler. Hello, Dolly! What more do you need to know? Oh yeah: Telecharge” haunted my waking hours. That damn black screen advertisement showed up every time I watched something on YouTube. But eventually, I managed to see it (chairs are overrated).

Bette Midler was really good, guys.

Bette aside for a moment, Hello, Dolly! is a 1960’s Broadway musical so of course its creative team (Michael Stewart and Jerry Herman) is Jewish. One would assume that Dolly, the meddler of Yonkers, widow of one Ephraim Levi, brought to screen by Barbra Streisand, is patently Jewish, too.

But she’s not (necessarily)! As Jesse Green points out, there’s a long list of Dolly actresses who were not Jewish themselves and did not portray her as Jewish. In that same article, Tovah Feldshuh and Carol Channing discuss their differing portrayals of Dolly Levi. Whereas the non-Jewish Carol Channing plays Dolly as Jewish, Tovah Feldshuh plays Dolly as a 12-sibling, Irish potato famine emigré who “learned some things about Judaism, but she’s as Christian as she was 20 years ago.” After all, Feldshuh points out, Dolly’s maiden name is Gallagher.

Channing disagrees: “See, from my own personal experience, I’ve found that you turn Jewish when you’re married to a Jew.”

Feldshuh also makes repeated references to how she could “not afford” to play Dolly as Jewish. Channing doesn’t understand what she means; after all, Of course, saying that Gallagher is an Irish surname would have been a sufficient explanation.

But I could wager a guess: Feldshuh might be suggesting that playing Dolly as Jewish and being Jewish herself would be too much of a risk, something about which Channing does not have to worry. She may be worried she would be “too Jewish?”— That she would alienate an audience by injecting too much Judaism in a not-explicitly-Jewish play.

However, whatever it may mean, Midler can sure afford to both play Dolly as Jewish and be Jewish herself. With the sheer force of her charisma, Midler could take a hatchet to the set and a blowtorch to the Shubert and still get thunderous applause.

As for the rest of the show: it was delightful, old-timey musical fun, with much the same spirit as last season’s She Loves Me, but even grander. Speaking of She Loves Me, Gavin Creel passed on his weird mustache from that production to David Hyde Pierce, who is hilarious in Dolly as the stern Mr. Vandergelder. Creel plays the 33-year old virgin Cornelius, and he and Taylor Trensch as Barnaby make a delightful pair. (Side note: wouldn’t Nicholas Barasch be a great Barnaby? Wouldn’t he?)

Kate Baldwin is a feisty Irene Molloy, and Beanie Feldstein is adorable as  Minnie Faye. I just found out that she’s Jonah Hill’s sister but I won’t let that affect my judgment. The sets are beautiful, and the stunning reveal of Harmonia Gardens elicited gasps. There is also a moving train car and a dancing horse. What more do you need to know?

The bare black-screen commercials are right, but at this point, good luck getting tickets through Telecharge. For what it’s worth, standing behind the back row of the orchestra is not a bad view.

Photo by Julieta Cervantes, via Playbill.

The post Shalom, Dolly! appeared first on Jewcy.

Greetings from snowy Park City, Utah, where the 2017 Sundance Film Festival is in full swing! Over a dozen venues around town are showing movies from as early as 8:30 a.m. to well past midnight every day. Jewcy has been keeping an eye out for any films that seem especially Jewish, and there’s one that stands out far from the others. Menashe, from director Joshua Z Weinstein, is showing as part of the NEXT category of innovative films spotlighted during the festival.

This film couldn’t be any more Jewish. Not only is all the dialogue in Yiddish (with subtitles, of course), it’s so deeply immersed in the Hasidic community in Brooklyn that anyone unfamiliar might think it was set in another country – or another time. The film’s protagonist, a well-meaning widower and father described unfavorably by those around him as a schlemiel (no subtitles necessary for that Yiddish), has an older cell phone capable of recording video and occasionally drives the delivery van for the grocery store where he works, but otherwise, there are few instances of modernity – or secularism – to be found here.

Menashe is a strictly observant ultra-Orthodox Jew, but he still finds himself as an outcast withitn his own community. He wears tzitzit and a black kippah, but not a hat or a coat. When he visits the Ruv, as the respected rabbi is called, instead of placing a donation in the tzedakah box, the Ruv slips him money, knowing that he is facing hardship. Miserable at his job, Menashe has also lost custody of his son Rieven since the Ruv has determined that he would be better off in a two-parent home with Menashe’s brother-in-law Eizik, who never liked Menashe and thinks very little of him.

Every part of this movie is built around Menashe and his identity as an observant Jew. He may disagree with a prospective match about whether women should be allowed to drive – as permitted or prohibited by the rabbinic authorities – and clash with his boss about whether unwashed lettuce should be considered kosher because of the potential for worms, but there is no point at which Menashe questions his commitment to his faith. He strives to impress the Ruv and respects his authority, and he doesn’t feel his attire should make him any less of a Hasid. When he tries to be a good person and put on a memorial for his late wife, his neighbor scoffs at his request for a kugel recipe and reluctantly gives him one that she deems “bachelor-proof” that he still manages to screw up.

While this film is so intimately and explicitly Jewish, its story is a very relatable one, however specific its particular events may be to this community. There are no title cards or introductions to explain that this story could easily have happened and that these people really do live and exist in their own giant bubble in a borough in New York City. Audiences may be confused about certain traditions and behavior, and fortunately this film more than makes up for any insider content with a truly human and universal narrative.

A major part of what makes this film work is the sympathetic lead performance from Menashe Lustig, who achieved some fame for publishing a few YouTube videos. The real-life Hasid brings with him a tremendous authenticity, which has to do with his own life story inspiring Weinstein’s film. Menashe is far from an impressive man, never seeming to do the right thing even if though he tries – not always that hard – yet he has an endearing energy about him, and it’s impossible not to relate to his experiences and the way he’s perceived by others. Ruben Niborski, who plays Rieven, is also a find, and this almost entirely Hasidic cast is just what this film needs.

More than anything, it’s especially cool that one of the most talked-about (and well-reviewed) movies at Sundance this year is this Yiddish-language project that might seem completely insular and unappealing to the masses at first glance. Anyone who sits down to experience the film should appreciate that it’s much more than that, bringing culture gaps and language barriers to offer up an honest drama that doesn’t sugarcoat or tone anything down. Keep an eye out for this one, since it seems unlikely that its energy and positive reception will end at Sundance.

Film Still via Sundance.org

The post Sundance Movie Review: ‘Menashe’ appeared first on Jewcy.

Have you wondered about what your favorite cultural figures carry in their bags, that most intimate of spaces? Abbi Jacobson (of Broad City fame) did. And now, she’s sharing her best guesses with you in her (third) illustrated work, Carry This Book.

Ranging from Willy Wonka, to Sigmund Freud, to Bernie Madoff, to, well, God, Jacobson shows us what she imagines they have on them from day to day (and provides her own lightly judgmental commentary), and she’s pretty convincing. Of course Nora Ephron would carry a bouquet of newly sharpened pencils (and deep cut there, Abbi).

But the best part about the book isn’t even its jokes about icons, living, dead, or fictional. Carry This Book replicates that feeling of watching Jacobson’s TV show that you already know her and are best friends and hang out with her and Ilana Glazer (whose purse is also in here, by the way) as a Jewish pal trio and you simultaneously feel totally at ease and also mutually indulge in all your worst neuroses.

For example, some of the women Jacobson admires most seem to be interested in watching Broad City (and Michelle Obama has a Marc Maron interview with Glazer and Jacobson on her list of podcasts). But despite this idea being  her invention, Jacobson acts surprised and elated every time she encounters a shout-out she has essentially left for herself (“WHAT!?!” she exclaims when she sees a Broad City App on Beyoncé’s phone).

Throughout the book, also Jacobson peppers in handbag-related advice both literal and figurative, including lamenting that her “essentials” list is far too long, and that we all carry anger, love, regrets, hopes, etc. And even in short, funny captions, she expresses nuanced opinions.

“In all seriousness, Barbie should rep all shapes, colors + sizes of women around the world,” She scrawls next to the doll’s imagined driver’s license. But then she includes a NASA astronaut ID card, and adds, “…Excited she has + is evolving.”

Considering her two-page spread gently ribbing self-help and guide books (“Field Notes!” “Pocket Dictionary!” “How To: Live Life The Best!”), Jacobson has presented one in the gentlest way possible. Even Albert Einstein must have carried around emergency chocolate or a pair of socks “In case someone gave him shit” for going without. You can schlep around your own insecurities, as long as you also take what you need.

Ultimately, in perhaps the best advice in the entire book, remember Jacobson’s carrying “Must List”:

• A Pen
• Some sort of notebook
• Headphones
• Lip gloss
• Metrocard
• AN OPEN MIND

The post ‘Carry This Book’ As Manifesto appeared first on Jewcy.

People have any number of opinions about Israel, and one of the subjects that proves most controversial is the existence and continued construction of settlements. There are many who say that the outposts are illegal and built on occupied territory, while others defend them as rightfully-gained land that has been populated by new residents. Like Israel itself, the settlements and how they came about are far from black and white, and director Shimon Dotan’s documentary, playing at the New York Film Festival, examines their origins and cultures in great detail.

Most documentaries about Israel have a certain slant, whether they’re arguing for the peaceful existence of the Jewish State or that the country is built on the unjust occupation and subjugation of the oppressed Palestinian people. The Settlers begins from a more academic, historical perspective dating back to the foundation of the State of Israel. The ideals and mindsets of the early settlers are presented, as well as certain international events that caused the settlements to become the subject of so much debate.

Just as important as uncovering how and why the settlements came about is understanding why their inhabitants believe so strongly in them. The settlers themselves are more than eager to share their stories and their perspectives, as are the Palestinians who have lived there far longer than their Jewish counterparts have.

What is conveyed most by interviews with the settlers is a strong religious zeal, with numerous rabbis and other devout Jews passionately describing their connection to the land. One interviewee describes Israel as an ancient land extending far beyond any current governmental borders all the way to Iraq, declaring that it will all once again belong to the Jewish people one day. Another calls it God’s land, claiming that it belongs to no one. Palestinians who live in the areas now surrounded or neighbored by settlements espouse a harsh view of imperialists who live better than them and have seized their land. There are exceptions and examples of cooperation, of course, but few circumstances are truly mutual or equivalent.

The more disturbing focus, especially for those who consider themselves defenders of Israel, is that the prevailing opinion among settlers, at least those interviewed for this film, is an unapologetic sense of supremacy over non-Jews. Anti-Arab sentiment is rampant, and the joyous chanting of “Kahane lives” can be heard during one festive scene, invoking the name of a rabbi well known for the foundation of the Israeli political party Kach, considered a terrorist organization by both Israel and the United States. Baruch Goldstein, who killed 29 Palestinians in prayer at the Cave of the Patriarchs in 1994, is praised as “a modest and righteous man” by one settler. Israel may be viewed as an occupier, but instances of terrorism perpetrated by Israelis are rare, and to see and hear them venerated is truly disturbing and upsetting. It is reassuring, therefore, to watch archive footage of Israeli Prime Minister Yitzhak Rabin decrying Goldstein as a “disgrace to Zionism” and “a shame to Judaism,” naming him a “diabolical Jew.”

As the film approaches the present day in its narrative, stabbing attacks on settlers begin, and, lamentably, the only reaction included is by one Itamar settlement resident, who insists that life and security on the settlement has only improved since the horrific murder of five family members, including three children. Soon after, a father who has been sentenced to house arrest joyfully coaches his daughter to tell the camera that he was arrested for beating up Arabs. It’s hard to imagine peace and progress being possible with such sentiments.

Beyond the opinions and worldviews of the settlers, the political stance of the Israeli government is a central focus of this documentary. Rabin opposed the settlements, and, when he was in power, did his best to stop construction and steer the country away in the aim of achieving peace. He was, however, assassinated by a vengeful right-wing settler, representing the deep opposition that manifested itself in an extreme. Menachem Begin, on the other hand, enthusiastically encouraged construction of the settlements and championed them as a positive institution. Ariel Sharon made the difficult decision to “disengage” from Gaza in 2005, resulting in many settlers being physically dragged from their homes and forcibly relocated, and the film boils that down to a strategic attempt at misdirection which resulted in greatly increased settlement in the West Bank.

Settlements – and settlers – are viewed in this film as those who stake a claim to a land that is not theirs. When a woman whose infant son has just died wants to bury him in Hebron, other settlers ask her why she would do so since Hebron might eventually not belong to Israel. The notion of conquered lands is a strangely fluid one, since most nations expect to keep all territory gained in a war rather than be forced to give it back in exchange for peace during the next war. That incongruity is at the core of the problem with settlements – they are seen as hostile takeovers rather than “spoils of war.” The uncertainty also presents problems for those already living in said areas who feel that they have become unfairly and unlawfully occupied.

It would be simple if all settlers both cared about the land they were inhabiting and sought to have peaceful coexistence with their new neighbors. There are many factors that serve to prevent that from both sides, but the truth as presented in this film is that many settlers lean towards the right-wing, extremist end of observant Judaism, which does not promote external tolerance as it should. There are, interestingly, many non-Jews who choose to settle in Israel and, while their religion is not necessarily a point of contention, relations may not be that much better. The term “settler” has become a loaded one that invokes and incites passion from anyone who reads it, and this film determines that, if nothing else, there is no easy solution in the near future.

Shimon Dotan will appear on a New York Film Festival panel about documentaries tonight in Manhattan.

Image from The Settlers.

The post Jewcy Review: ‘The Settlers’ appeared first on Jewcy.