Winning equal rights

Anat Hoffman, right, and another member of Women of the Wall, standing at the entrance to the Kotel in January 2013, as Charedi men look away. (photo by Michal Patelle (Women of the Wall) via Wikimedia Commons)

For more than 30 years, Anat Hoffman has been fighting for individuals’ rights. Notably, her work with Women of the Wall, which won legal recognition in 2013 for women’s right to pray at the Kotel wearing prayer shawls and using a Torah. And her more than 10 years with the Israel Religious Action Centre, which has achieved government funding for non-Orthodox rabbis, earned multiple Supreme Court decisions recognizing Reform and Conservative conversions, and won a 2011 Supreme Court ruling making gender segregation on public buses illegal.

The self-described troublemaker will be in Vancouver Nov. 15-18, speaking to several community groups, as well as addressing the Jewish community as a whole on Nov. 16, 7:30 p.m., at Temple Sholom. Her topic – From the Back of the Bus to the Top of the Agenda.

“I’m talking about the achievements of a family of organizations – Women of the Wall, the Religious Action Centre, the Jerusalem Open House, the Association for Civil Rights in Israel, all sorts, we’re a cluster of organizations for social change, and I am such an admirer of my colleagues,” said Hoffman. “And we’re all looking at the same issues: how the monolithic interpretation of Judaism in the Jewish state is limiting and stunting our ability to enjoy Judaism and celebrate it.

“In this respect, more than any other, including security, economics … we must dialogue with the Diaspora Jews. You have a stake in it, and you have an opinion. Israel is way too important to be left to the Israelis.”

She doesn’t want Diaspora Jews to be silent, she said, because there are things that Israelis can learn from them. “I’m tired of Israeli arrogance, and the feeling that we know everything,” she said. “If we know everything, how come we are in the situation we are in today on our 67th anniversary? That’s number one: I am humbled by reality and I think we could use all the help we could get.

“The second thing is, I think it’s a joint project. I think it’s the most important project of the Jewish people…. The state of Israel, the fact that we have a sovereign Jewish state, is so exciting and so wonderful, and I think we’re involved in the most important dialogue in our lives – you and I. What are the values of the Jewish state? What are Jewish values anyway? Are they the values of the Book of Joshua – smite them, kill them, annihilate them? Or the values of Isaiah? Who do we listen to, and who do we act like? I’m an Isaiah person, he’s my steering committee. I read him for inspiration and I think if he were alive in Israel today, he’d be under administrative detention – the man had no mouth control.

“So, I am driven to speak to Diaspora Jews, involve them in this dialogue and tell them to stop being quiet. If you are quiet, don’t be surprised if Jerusalem turns into Tehran, don’t be surprised if you wake up one day and you’re ashamed to even be called Jewish because of what the Jewish state is doing. You have to make your statement known today – and, it turns out, the Israeli government is very sensitive to what Canadian Jews think…. You’re not using your fantastic nuisance value. You have so much of it and you don’t use it.”

Acknowledging that Canadians are “extremely harmony-seeking and somewhat conservative,” Hoffman said people should speak up “in whatever style fits you. If Israel arrests women wearing a tallis, praying out loud and trying to have a bat mitzvah at the holiest site of the Jewish people, if this is not something right, then you should mention it.”

The morning of her phone interview with the Jewish Independent, Hoffman had attended a b’not mitzvah at the Kotel, one girl had come from Brazil, the other from the United States. “I had to stand in front of them and explain that we don’t have a Torah scroll this morning because the rabbi [Shmuel Rabinowitz] refused to give me one for these two girls – he has 100 Torah scrolls for public use. I found a way to smuggle in a Torah, but I didn’t use it today. Why? Because I didn’t want to make the Jerusalem police look like horses’ asses today because they have other things on their plate,” she said, referring to the current spate of terror attacks.

Because of the security situation, Hoffman had written Rabinowitz to ask him to make an exception that one day, and to allow the women to use one of the Kotel’s Torahs, “so that we do not burden the police with our problem,” she said. “I didn’t even get an answer.”

photo - Anat Hoffman
Anat Hoffman (photo from Anat Hoffman)

Despite “30 years of troublemaking,” Hoffman said she has never felt unsafe or isolated. “Not only am I not persona non grata, I was elected and reelected to the city council of Jerusalem endless times. I have 24,000 voters in this right-wing, ultra-Orthodox city. I’ve never felt threatened. My phone number is published in the phone book…. Israel is a democracy and as someone with a dissenting voice – I always was a member of the opposition – I think I was rewarded for this.”

On the issue of gender segregation in public spaces, Hoffman said victory could be declared. “We certainly don’t see new segregations going on, and the new ones are punished by the government now.”

Of the challenges that remain, she said, “Freedom of religion and pluralism, recognition of the Reform and Conservative movements, recognition of women in religion, the issue of the Wall – on these issues of pluralism, the religious establishment is very, very strong in resisting any change because any change would mean the breaking of their empire.”

Also on the morning of her interview with the Independent, former chief rabbi of Israel Yona Metzger was indicted for allegedly accepting some $2 million in bribes. “They have a corrupt system and they’re fighting to keep it because they are very spoiled and used to it, and there’s a lot of resistance to change in that power structure. That structure is the next frontier.”

Calling the Women of the Wall, “the Little Engine that Could,” Hoffman said, “We’re pushing for equality and, in the end, we will win. Am I going to see the end of this struggle? I’m not sure, it’s taking too long. But is it going to be won? There is no doubt in my mind that it will be won.”

Hoffman said she is pushing for a model she learned about in a Limmud South Africa conference a number of years ago. The presenter – Simonne Horwitz – shared stories about the small Jewish community of Saskatoon. In the winter, people help each other get to synagogue, she said, “and they don’t care if you’re Orthodox, Reform or Conservative. And the congregation, the building of the synagogue, it’s Orthodox if a majority of Orthodox show and it’s Reform if the most Reform show, and the one structure can become whatever it is that the people want it to be at that moment.”

Horwitz told the small community’s stories “with so much humor, so much joy,” said Hoffman. “I come from the largest Jewish community in the world, and I have a lot to learn from Saskatchewan, Canada.”

Hoffman said about Israel, “I want us to recognize all streams. I want our structures of religion to be able to be as pluralistic as possible. I want freedom in the market called religious services, and may the best rabbi win.”

Hoffman encouraged everyone to come hear her speak. “I would like to make sure that people who are not liberal, feminist, peacenik, that they know that they are very, very welcome to come dialogue with me. I’m very interested in speaking to more than the choir. I love to dialogue with people who are willing to look at their opinions and check them out with this Israeli. There are Israelis of many kinds. Israelis like me don’t come to your area very often, and I would very much like to dialogue with people who disagree with me, in a civilized manner. Even if you leave me with your same opinions, at least you’ve aired them out a little bit…. It’s a Jewish thing to do. We’re asked to leave our comfort zone a few times a year: when we leave home to build a sukkah, when we throw every piece of bread from our house…. So, I invite very much those people who are not in my natural habitat to come and talk to me.”

She also stressed that it is not regular Israelis who object to the changes she and her colleagues and supporters are demanding, but rather “the establishment that has so much to lose. And it’s all the folly of Israel. By giving one stream the political power, huge political budgets and the ability to monopolize all religious services in Israel, we’ve corrupted something so important for Judaism – the free spirit of criticism, the art of argument. All this is gone now because there’s only one way. Since when do the Jews have a chief rabbi? We never had a pope, never. We’ve always argued. We argued with Moses, Moses argued with God, the prophets argued with the kings, the kings wanted to resign, God resigns, Moses throws his hands up! We’ve always argued. The Talmud is one long argument. We come from a fantastic core of arguments. It all ended with the state of Israel, the argument ended, there is an establishment, the Orthodox establishment, and it’s so bad for orthodoxy, bad for Israel and bad for Judaism.”

Mosaics depict Judith story

Lilian Broca with the diptych “Judith Meeting Holofernes,” part of the Heroine of a Thousand Pieces: The Judith Mosaics of Lilian Broca exhibit that opens at Il Museo on Nov. 12. (photo from Lilian Broca)

Artist Lilian Broca calls her most recent subject – the apocryphal Judith, who slew the general Holofernes and saved her village – “a woman’s woman,” because “she was able to do what she wanted to do.” Granted, times have changed, and that’s not such an unusual phenomenon, but equality is still an issue for many, there are still oppressors, the world is still in need of repair, tikkun olam. Broca’s work reminds us of the power we each have, woman or man, to save, heal or improve at least a part of the world in which we live. And it does so in the most beautiful way.

Heroine of a Thousand Pieces: The Judith Mosaics of Lilian Broca opens at the Italian Cultural Centre’s Il Museo on Nov. 12, 7 p.m., with a reception. It is the artist’s second major mosaic series. Her first – seven years in the making – told the story of Queen Esther, the heroine of Purim.

“Throughout my career,” writes Broca in the Judith exhibit catalogue, “I have deliberately used powerful women figures from mythology as symbolic figures and role models whose experiences, I contend, shed light on today’s concerns, thereby becoming relevant to our contemporary society. In my last three series of artworks, I have profiled three exceptionally wise and fearless legendary figures: Lilith, Esther and now Judith.”

Over the years, she has worked with a variety of media, but the Queen Esther series called for a new medium: “In the Book of Esther, it is written that King Xerxes’ palace was magnificently adorned with a floor encrusted with rubies and porphyry in pleasing designs – in other words, mosaics.”

As with the Esther series, the nine panels depicting seven scenes from the story of Judith are created in Italian smalto glass. The panels range from 72 to 78 inches tall and 48 inches wide.

As a widow with no children or family, Judith was able “to act on her own without getting permission from the alpha male of her family,” Broca told the Independent. That allowed her to do what she did, “because women, as you know, in biblical times belonged to a male, either a husband, father, brother, son. She had none of those, and she was wealthy because her husband had left her quite wealthy. So, she was a woman’s woman, she was able to do what she wanted to do.”

In short, Judith wanted to save her village of Bethulia from the Assyrian army, which was under the command of General Holofernes, who answered to the ruler Nebuchadnezzar. A beautiful woman, she seduces her way into Holofernes’ camp and, eventually, into his tent, where she manages to get him so drunk that he passes out. She then cuts off his head with a sword, smuggling it out of the camp with the help of her servant. She presents it to the people of her village, while Holofernes’ army flees in disarray.

“We meet her at the point where she calls the town officials, and tells them that she’s going to be victorious,” and that she’s going to be successful with the help of God, explained Broca of the exhibit’s first panel. Judith doesn’t, however, tell them what she’s going to do.

photo - "Judith Praying in the Desert," by Lilian Broca, part of the Thousand Pieces: The Judith Mosaics of Lilian Broca exhibit
“Judith Praying in the Desert,” by Lilian Broca, part of the Thousand Pieces: The Judith Mosaics of Lilian Broca exhibit. (photo from Lilian Broca)

In the second panel, Judith is praying, asking God to help her deceive Holofernes and his men. Not knowing how women prayed at the time, Broca contacted Dr. Adolfo Roitman, curator of the Shrine of the Book at the Israel Museum (where the Dead Sea Scrolls are housed), but, despite his and other biblical specialists’ efforts, they weren’t able to answer that question. “So, I was left with my artistic licence,” said Broca. “I figured that light is always associated with the divine, and so I had a lot of photos of oil lamps dating from that century … and I decided to have her praying in front of that lit oil lamp, with that light, and her hands … she is begging God, she is arguing with God, she is having a dialogue, so I put her hands in a kind of gesticulating [position], up in the air.”

The third scene – one of the exhibit’s two diptychs – depicts Holofernes first meeting Judith in all her finery and beauty. “Judith, just like Esther, was articulate, spoke very well, and perhaps also God helped her,” said Broca. “She told the general a cockamamie story about God coming to her in her dreams and saying to her, you have to go down [to see him] because he will be the winner of the war, he’s a great leader, and I’m going to punish the people of Bethulia … because they broke the dietary laws. Well, that was true: they were starving, they had no water. The general knew that the Israelites had a very powerful God” who would protect them if they were faithful to Him and kept His laws. Judith continued, said Broca, “saying that God will tell her in three days’ time when is a good time to attack. During those three days, she will stay with him in the camp but, every night, she will go with her maid … to pray, and then come back to the camp. And then, on the third night, God will tell her. In the meantime, the general wanted to seduce her, that’s all he had on his brain.”

In this way, the sentry was used to seeing Judith coming and going, said Broca, which is why she was ultimately able to steal the severed head, hidden in a sack, out of the camp. The fourth scene of the exhibit is a diptych of Judith plying Holofernes with wine, the fifth panel shows Judith about to bring down the sword onto his neck, while the sixth has Judith and her maid running to Bethulia, sack and sword in hand. The final panel shows Judith raising the head for her people to see.

Broca started this work about four years ago. Roitman was in Vancouver giving a talk on the Dead Sea Scrolls and visited her studio. “When he saw Esther, he said, oh, now you have to do Judith.” He told her that Judith was likely written as a response to Esther, that Judith is the flipside of Esther. “And it is absolutely true,” said Broca. “When I read the story, I knew right then and there that my greatest dream in life is to have both Esther and Judith exhibited in one very large museum.”

Because they are completely different personalities, Broca used different methods in creating the two mosaic series. “Esther was executed in a Byzantine style, and that was because

Esther was a quiet, loyal little girl who manipulated men to do a dirty job, basically…. Judith, on the other hand, was a warrior from the get go.” Judith acted independently and “in a manly manner,” while Esther “acted within the accepted nature of women’s role in life,” said Broca. This is why the artist couldn’t create

Judith using “that very quiet, icon-like Byzantine style…. I had to use a more Baroque style to show her personality.” Judith’s depictions needed to have more action and movement, as well as more emotional facial expression.

Broca said that what attracted her to the stories of Judith and Esther, true or not, was that “these heroines illuminate the fundamental truth … and that is that one single individual, not just a group, male or female, can – and will – make a difference in a threatened community. Today, we have Malala [Yousafzai] – she is an example of such a heroine. And both Esther and Judith save their communities from being exterminated, or taken into slavery, as was the case with Judith, I believe.”

Both Esther and Judith are examples of women’s empowerment, and can serve as role models, said Broca. As well, the medium of mosaics bears its own message, not only connecting an ancient art with contemporary times, the past with the present, but also in that “our world is becoming more and more fragmented, and it’s essential that all these fractured elements should be put together in order to heal, to make the world whole once again.”

In the Esther series, the unifying motif that ran through the panels was a wrought-iron lattice that appeared in each one. Broca said she agonized for weeks over what would be the unifying motif in the Judith series. “Finally, I came up with this idea of a torn sketchbook page. The reason for that is because I thought, well, what am I doing? I’m revivifying or reenacting an ancient story, and I’m starting from scratch, and it’s from my personal vision.” Since she started with sketches that became the mosaics, she thought, “Why don’t I show the whole process?” The sketchbook also becomes a “21st-century prop,” something that brings the work, and the ancient story it tells, into the present. Included in the exhibit are Broca’s sketches and painted sketches (which are called cartoons). “In total,” she said, “there will be 14 pieces under glass accompanying the mosaics.”

photo - For visitors who want to take a piece of the exhibit home with them, Broca has created a series of mosaic silk scarves that will be available for purchase
For visitors who want to take a piece of the exhibit home with them, Broca has created a series of mosaic silk scarves that will be available for purchase. (photo from Lilian Broca)

The catalogue accompanying the Judith exhibit is comprehensive. It is a full-color, 94-page publication with essays by Broca and Roitman, as well as by Dr. Sheila Campbell, archeologist, art historian, curator and professor emerita of the Pontifical Institute of Medieval Studies; Dr. Angela Clarke, museum curator at the Italian Cultural Centre in Vancouver; and Rabbi Dr. Yosef Wosk, adjunct professor and Shadbolt Fellow in the humanities department at Simon Fraser University. The book’s foreword is written by Rosa Graci, curator at Joseph D. Carrier Art Gallery in Toronto, where the Judith series will be displayed from May 5-July 4, 2016.

The exhibit will be in Vancouver at Il Museo, 3075 Slocan St., until March 31, 2016. For hours and other information, visit italianculturalcentre.ca/events/museum. For more on Broca, visit lilianbroca.com. As well, three relevant stories are “Contemporary ancient art,” Nov. 18, 2011; “Piecing together a heroine,” March 21, 2008; and “Mosaics honor heroine,” April 30, 2004.

What kind of Jew are you?

Imagine finding a play so funny and thought-provoking that you just had to mount a production of it in your hometown – and you actually had the talent and wherewithal to do it.

Famous Artists Limited’s Bill Allman saw Joshua Harmon’s Bad Jews in London. He’s bringing it to Rothstein Theatre Nov. 10-21, directed by Jay Brazeau and starring two other members of the Jewish community, Amitai Marmorstein and Goldie Hoffman. Rounding out the cast are Alex Rose and Kayla Dunbar.

photo - Bill Allman
Bill Allman (photo from Famous Artists Limited)

“It’s really difficult to pick one or two moments of hilarity or emotion from a play that kept me laughing and thinking for its entire duration,” said Allman, “but I loved the raucous interaction between [cousins] Liam and Daphna and, in particular, watching Melody (that’s Liam’s shiksa girlfriend) react to them. The loudness and the verbal vitriol looks completely insane to her and yet the three cousins are sort of saying, ‘What? This is how people talk!’

“As for deep thought, much of the script gives the audience a chance to think about where faith and culture intersect and how these values affect daily life and interaction with others. The great thing about the play is that the characters are drawn in such a way as to illustrate a wide range of human experience and it doesn’t matter where you fall on the spectrum – there will be something in one or more of the characters that makes you say, ‘I’m like that.’ And you may laugh or you may wince but, inevitably, you’ll laugh because 10 seconds later, it’s somebody else’s turn to wince!”

Secular Liam, his “Jew-ish” brother Jonah and their staunch Zionist and Orthodox cousin Daphna fight over the right to their grandfather’s chai necklace after he dies; he had managed to get it (and himself) through the Holocaust, and they each attribute a different importance and symbolism to it. Witnessing the mayhem, as Allman noted, is Liam’s non-Jewish girlfriend, Melody.

“Which one of them is the ‘best’ Jew?” reads the promotional material. “Is it the religious and cultural zealot Daphna, who changed her name from Diana? What about her privileged cousin Liam, who missed Poppy’s funeral to go skiing with his non-Jewish girlfriend Melody? Or perhaps Liam’s brother, Jonah, the quiet one who would prefer not to get involved in the fight?”

photo - Amitai Marmorstein
Amitai Marmorstein (photo from Famous Artists Limited)

Marmorstein, who plays Jonah, was emailed by Brazeau with a request to read the script. “I’ve known Jay for awhile and have always been a very big fan of his,” Marmorstein told the Independent. “He arranged for Goldie and I to come in and read and talk about the play. He kept saying it wasn’t an audition even though it sort of was. I think he just didn’t want us to get nervous or anything. But the ‘non-audition’ went well, I guess, and Goldie and I were both offered roles.”

Director, writer, actor and producer Ben Ratner recommended Hoffman (who plays Daphna) to Brazeau. “Ben runs and teaches at Haven Studio, and I’ve trained with him a lot, working on many intense plays and scripts in multiple genres. So, it’s really thanks to Ben that I got this part,” she said, “both because of his recommendation and also thanks to his training.”

Hoffman was asked by Brazeau and Allman to read with Marmorstein, and she also recalled being told, “‘Don’t think of this as an audition, Goldie …’ they said and, as I jokingly thought to myself, the unsaid continuation of that line was, ‘… but this read will likely affect whether or not you get the part.’

Fortunately, I got the part, and I’m thrilled and truly honored to be playing such a fun role and being part of this ensemble.”

Characters that are a “type” can come off as superficial. When asked in what ways they infuse their characters with humanity and depth, Marmorstein said, “The best way to never be a stereotype is to work with great writing. Joshua Harmon has written such honest, original, devastating characters that our job becomes much, much easier. I think creating real, non-stereotypical characters is precisely what the art of acting is, so we just try to be creative and honest and hope people connect to it.”

photo - Goldie Hoffman
Goldie Hoffman (photo from Famous Artists Limited)

Hoffman went into more detail. “I think it’s important not to judge your character as good or bad, right or wrong,” she said. “Humans are complex individuals and it’s important to remember that when you portray any character. In fact, generally in real life, we don’t set out to be wrong or behave badly. Most of us try to go through life making good choices, and when we make bad ones or hurt people, we often don’t intend to or don’t even realize the impact of our words and actions. When playing a character, I try to portray their point of view, as best as I can understand it. In fact, after first reading the play, I was actually offended when first seeing Daphna described as a ‘zealot’ in online play reviews and synopses, because I see that term as quite negative, and I didn’t see (or want to see) her that way.

“I feel I really understand where Daphna is coming from, even if I don’t share all her views. In fact, I’d go as far as to say, this is a character that is closest to me of all the roles I’ve ever portrayed – to the point where it’s scary and even embarrassing. As for playing a certain ‘type,’ it’s true there is a certain stereotype and similarity many Jewish girls and women share and, yes, a lot of it does apply to me: brunette, outspoken, loud, animated and, yes, also stubborn and annoying – but also spunky, fun, caring, intelligent and funny (and clearly modest). Hey, let’s face it, get a bunch of Jewish girls in the room, and I challenge you to tell me many don’t look and sound like sisters. Daphna shares these qualities, too, but, at the same time, we’re of course all individuals, and so our views and outlooks on life can be extremely different.

“As far as her being real,” Hoffman continued, “to me, Daphna already is a real person, and I can completely see and hear her, so I only hope I can translate that successfully to the audience. Aside from the parts of her that I relate to, I even know several ‘Daphnas,’ especially being raised Jewish in both N.Y. and Montreal and now being in L.A. a lot, all big ‘Jew-towns.’ There is a unique experience that Jewish girls and women have, which I relate to. For example, facing certain sexist traditions and customs (especially if raised Orthodox), family dynamics, rivalries, pressures and high expectations and, of course, last but not least, we are aware of our brethren’s love of ‘shiksappeal,’ which my character’s cousin Liam has. Though, on that subject, having dated several non-Jewish guys, I say, ‘It’s all good, boys, ’cause it goes both ways.’”

Speaking of which, where would Hoffman put herself on the spectrum of the “bad Jews” depicted in the play?

“In many ways, I think the play is actually poking fun at that very notion of being a ‘bad Jew,’ as there’s really no such thing – or, if there is, well then, we’re all ‘bad Jews’ in one way or another. There is no right way to be Jewish, either religiously or culturally, and, as Jews, we grapple with what that identity means to us and how much we want it to affect our lives and sense of self,” she said.

That being said, Hoffman compared herself to aspects of both Daphna and Liam. “My experience and views about my ‘Jewishness’ continue to change and evolve, so I’ve been all over the map. For instance, as a kid, I was raised Chassidic, and then, as a teen, I became non-observant, but was still a believer. Then, I identified as ‘spiritually Jewish.’ Now, I no longer believe in Judaism, and I’m a secular humanist, but culturally or ethnically, I am definitely Jewish (whether I like it or not). I think this is something a lot of non-Jews have trouble understanding, because the term Jew can apply to both the religion Judaism, but also the Jewish culture, ethnicity, nation and community, as we are such an old people that we predate these modern terms.

“As for Israel, as you know, that’s such a sensitive and ambivalent issue for the Jewish community and something we all have different views on. For my character Daphna, Israel is extremely important and she plans to make her life there. I used to share her fervent Zionism as a teen, and even considered going to Israel as well, either to a kibbutz or to do one of their volunteer programs with Magen David Adom (their national emergency medical disaster, ambulance and blood-bank services as well as national aid society).

“I am still a supporter of Israel, though not without my criticism, just like with other countries; but, unlike Daphna, I don’t support Israel from a religious standpoint and don’t believe in the existence of holy lands. I can speak, read and write Hebrew (also some Arabic), and tend to really like and get along with Israelis and have a few friends and acquaintances in Tel Aviv who are in the arts scene. I think Israeli Jews are such a unique, interesting and strong people, and they’re very different from North American Jews. If I’m fully honest, I think they’re our cooler cousins, because they’re people who just ‘happen’ to be Jewish, versus we here who are taught our Jewish identity and worry about how it squares up with our national one, and who are, by and large, much more sheltered and privileged than they are. I also think Israelis are better looking than we are, but I know that’s up for debate. But c’mon, all those people mixing from all those different countries and backgrounds? You can’t compete with that!”

Turning more serious, Hoffman said she struggles “with the paradoxical dilemma of how to continue the survival of the Jewish people and Israel, while still supporting humanism, secularism, democracy and the belief that mixing is a great thing for humanity. I think this is a major theme the play deals with and questions, and something most Jews can relate to, as well as many non-Jews with strong cultural and ethnic identities and communities.”

Allman is an example of the latter. “I was baptized Presbyterian, but fall very squarely into the religiously lapsed category – I have 50 years of Christmas trees that far outnumber my appearances in an actual church,” he admitted. “The themes in Bad Jews are universal – they’re struggles with personal identity, with philosophy and with both the intimacy and disconnect that everyone struggles with in regards to the religion and culture of their ancestors.”

He added, “[T]here is a very intellectual aspect to Judaism that I find extremely compelling – and that aspect doesn’t exist in a vacuum, it’s tied to practical living. It is certainly behind our initiative to have Rabbi [Jonathan] Infeld come in on Nov. 19 for a talkback with the audience and cast after the show. We’re going to go after the issues behind the story! I love the deeply thoughtful traditions that can give birth to a work like Bad Jews – a work like this comes from inner turmoil and passion. Now that’s living!”

For tickets, click here or visit famousartists.ca. For the full interview with Goldie Hoffman, click here.

 

An interview with Goldie Hoffman

Goldie Hoffman is set to play the character of Daphna in Bad Jews, a play by Joshua Harmon. It will be in Vancouver at Rothstein Theatre from Nov. 10-21, directed by Jay Brazeau and produced by Famous Artists Limited. For the Jewish Independent article on the play, which includes portions of the interview below, click here. For tickets, click here.

JI: How hard was it for you to put yourself into your “bad” shoes, or in what ways are you similar and different with respect to the Jewish spectrum than your character?

GH: I’m wearing my “bad Jew” shoes as we speak! In many ways, I think the play is actually poking fun at that very notion of being a “bad Jew,” as there’s really no such thing – or, if there is, well then, we’re all “bad Jews” in one way or another. There is no right way to be Jewish, either religiously or culturally and, as Jews, we grapple with what that identity means to us and how much we want it to affect our lives and sense of self.

photo - Goldie Hoffman
Goldie Hoffman (photo from Famous Artists Limited)

That reminds me of the Jewish saying, “two Jews, three opinions,” and that’s something that I think aptly describes Jews, but is something we should be proud of – that we accept and even thrive on debate, discussion, questions and, of course, the fact that we can openly poke fun at the religion and culture. There’s definitely something very Fiddler on the Roof-esque about this play and the characters – each character deals with their Jewish identity, changing times, and the weight of historical and cultural legacy and community, in their own way.

With respect to my character, in some ways I’m both my character Daphna and her cousin Liam, or at least have been aspects of both of them at one time or another. My experience and views about my “Jewishness” continue to change and evolve, so I’ve been all over the map. For instance, as a kid, I was raised Chassidic, and then as a teen I became non-observant, but was still a believer. Then I identified as “spiritually Jewish.” Now I no longer believe in Judaism, and I’m a secular humanist, but culturally or ethnically, I am definitely Jewish (whether I like it or not). I think this is something a lot of non-Jews have trouble understanding, because the term Jew can apply to both the religion Judaism, but also the Jewish culture, ethnicity, nation, and community, as we are such an old people that we predate these modern terms.

As for Israel, as you know, that’s such a sensitive and ambivalent issue for the Jewish community and something we all have different views on. For my character Daphna, Israel is extremely important and she plans to make her life there. I used to share her fervent Zionism as a teen, and even considered going to Israel as well, either to a kibbutz or to do one of their volunteer programs with Magon David Adom (their national emergency medical disaster, ambulance, and blood bank services as well as national aid society).

I am still a supporter of Israel, though not without my criticism, just like with other countries; but unlike Daphna, I don’t support Israel from a religious standpoint and don’t believe in the existence of holy lands. I can speak, read and write Hebrew (also some Arabic), and tend to really like and get along with Israelis and have a few friends and acquaintances in Tel Aviv who are in the arts scene. I think Israeli Jews are such a unique, interesting and strong people, and they’re very different from North American Jews. If I’m fully honest, I think they’re our cooler cousins, because they’re people who just “happen to be Jewish,” versus we here who are taught our Jewish identity and worry about how it squares up with our national one, and who are by and large much more sheltered and privileged than they are. I also think Israelis are better looking than we are, but I know that’s up for debate. But c’mon, all those people mixing from all those different countries and backgrounds? – you can’t compete with that!

I realize I’m sounding a lot like Daphna now in my praise of Israelis, but again, it’s from a different angle. As an artist, I’m specifically very impressed with Israel’s amazing and thriving arts, culture and film scene, especially given all they deal with on the international and domestic front. As I said, I’m not without criticism, but I do feel Israel is unfairly castigated and vilified in the world and held to unfair double standards. I’m unfortunately disillusioned about the possibility of peace there, and can’t help but think of Israel and that entire region with a tinge of sadness. Still, I’m definitely overdue for a visit and would love to perform live there or work on an Israeli film.

However, all that said, I struggle with the paradoxical dilemma of how to continue the survival of the Jewish people and Israel, while still supporting humanism, secularism, democracy, and the belief that mixing is a great thing for humanity. I think this is a major theme the play deals with and questions, and something most Jews can relate to, as well as many non-Jews with strong cultural and ethnic identities and communities.

JI: Characters that are a “type” can come off as superficial. In what ways have you tried to infuse your character with reality/humanity to prevent them from becoming stereotypes?

GH: I think it’s important not to judge your character as good or bad/ right or wrong. Humans are complex individuals and it’s important to remember that when you portray any character. In fact, generally in real life, we don’t set out to be wrong or behave badly. Most of us try to go through life making good choices, and when we make bad ones or hurt people, we often don’t intend to or don’t even realize the impact of our words and actions. When playing a character, I try to portray their point of view, as best as I can understand it. In fact, after first reading the play, I was actually offended when first seeing Daphna described as a “zealot” in online play reviews and synopses, because I see that term as quite negative, and I didn’t see (or want to see) her that way.

I feel I really understand where Daphna is coming from, even if I don’t share all her views. In fact, I’d go as far as to say, this is a character that is closest to me of all the roles I’ve ever portrayed – to the point where it’s scary and even embarrassing. As for playing a certain “type,” it’s true there is a certain stereotype and similarity many Jewish girls and women share, and yes, a lot of it does apply to me: brunette, outspoken, loud, animated, and yes, also stubborn and annoying – but also spunky, fun, caring, intelligent and funny (and clearly modest). Hey, let’s face it, get a bunch of Jewish girls in the room, and I challenge you to tell me many don’t look and sound like sisters. Daphna shares these qualities, too, but at the same time, we’re of course all individuals, and so our views and outlooks on life can be extremely different.

As far as her being real, to me Daphna already is a real person, and I can completely see and hear her, so I only hope I can translate that successfully to the audience. Aside from the parts of her that I relate to, I even know several “Daphnas,” especially being raised Jewish in both N.Y. and Montreal and now being in L.A. a lot – all big “Jew-towns.” There is a unique experience that Jewish girls and women have, which I relate to. For example, facing certain sexist traditions and customs (especially if raised Orthodox), family dynamics, rivalries, pressures and high expectations, and, of course, last but not least, we are aware of our brethren’s love of “shiksappeal,” which my character’s cousin Liam has. Though on that subject, having dated several non-Jewish guys, I say, “It’s all good, boys, ’cause it goes both ways.”

JI: How did you come to hear about Bad Jews and audition for it?

GH: Our director, Jay Brazeau, contacted me after speaking with director, writer, actor, producer Ben Ratner, who recommended me to him. Ben runs and teaches at Haven Studio, and I’ve trained with him a lot, working on many intense plays and scripts in multiple genres. So, it’s really thanks to Ben that I got this part, both because of his recommendation and also thanks to his training. I was then asked to read with Amitai (who plays Jonah) in front of Jay and our producer Bill Allman in an informal non-audition audition. “Don’t think of this as an audition, Goldie …” they said, and as I jokingly thought to myself, the unsaid continuation of that line was, “… but this read will likely affect whether or not you get the part.” Fortunately, I got the part, and I’m thrilled and truly honored to be playing such a fun role and being part of this ensemble.

JI: Are you going to get a perm to play Daphna?

GH: Oh no, you’ve just outed me as a straight-haired chick! I’m honestly still debating if I should get a perm or not. I’ve had friends with the real “Jew-fro,” and used to be jealous of them, even with their complicated product-regimen they had to wrestle with, and, of course they were jealous of my straight locks. We want what we don’t have, right? I may curl my hair each night, and I’ve been experimenting, burning my fingers, while I curl my hair trying to get it just right so it looks realistic and doesn’t have that “fake curls look.” I know some actors have used extensions for this part, but I want to be able to use my hair in the scene. So, as I write this now, I’m leaning towards a perm, but we’ll see.

JI: As I don’t think we’ve had the pleasure of interviewing before, can you share a bit about your background? How you’re a dual citizen, and split your time between Vancouver and LA? In what other shows Vancouverites might have seen you recently? Whatever else you might like to add.

GH: Ah, now to sum up myself and my background quickly. As you can tell, I’ve clearly mastered the art of being concise.

Long story short, I don’t have the typical North American Jewish experience, because I was raised in more than one. I was born in Brooklyn, N.Y., into a Chassidic family. My mother was from Montreal, my father from San Diego, and their youthful act of rebellion was to leave their secular Jewish lives, and join an ultra-Orthodox Chassidic movement in N.Y., much to the dismay of their families. Talk about being “bad Jews” and trying to define what that means.

They had us 10 kids quickly, one after the other, and I spent my childhood growing up extremely religious with strict kosher rules, dress codes, and no television, secular music or books (though we were sometimes “bad Chassidic Jews” and cheated with books, and also went as a family to see some movies in Manhattan) – a time I now refer to as the fun “cult days.”

Their experiment with ultra-Orthodox Judaism ultimately didn’t work out for us, and my parents divorced. My mother went back to Montreal to be with her family, and we kids along with her. My father is still Chassidic actually, but I’d say he has his own version of it, and he lives in Vegas now. He is quite a character, and that’s putting it mildly, as is my mother, even more so than in the “typical Jewish parents” way.

In Montreal, we re-integrated into “normal” North American Jewish lifestyles, starting out as Modern Orthodox, but then with varying and changing levels of observance, and each of us being allowed to do our own thing. When I graduated, I was actually going to study law, like all good, smart Jewish girls, but changed my mind at the last second about having a stable life in order to pursue performance and the arts instead.

I got accepted into Studio 58’s professional theatre acting program, so that’s what brought me out here. It was pretty scary because I knew nothing about Vancouver, I knew no one here, and had no money to scout out the city beforehand. After studying, I decided to stay here and started acting and doing comedy. Having been here for several years and because I’m a dual American-Canadian citizen, I recently decided to make the jump to L.A., too, since there is more opportunity there – and, of course, because you can’t beat all that sun and ocean. I love being on the West Coast, though I poke fun at it often, because in many ways I’ll always be a bit of a fish out of water here as an ex-East Coaster. My aim is to try to juggle both cities, L.A. and Vancouver, as much as possible taking advantage of the acting and comedy opportunities both cities have to offer.

As far as other performances Vancouverites may have seen me in, I played Connie in Raving Theatre’s production of My Big Gay Italian Wedding, which was put on at the Cultch. I also played Natalie, in the local independent feature dark comedy, Thirty One Scenes About Nothing, which won best picture at the Oregon Independent Film Festival (OIFF) in Portland. I also perform lots of live stand-up and sketch around town. Last year, I ran a weekly comedy variety show, called The Comedy Cabaret, along with co-host Ruven Klausner, in which we performed various comedy characters and acts. We formed a comedic partnership, previously called Schtuptown (a nod towards our Jewish heritage), now called The Goldie & Ruven Show, in which we perform live and create comedy shorts which are published online.

You can follow me online at goldiehoffman.com, imdb.goldiehoffman.com, @theMizzGoldie or facebook.com/GoldieHoffman.

Mispoken history

Exploiting the memory of the Holocaust and its victims is a far too commonplace event. Israel’s detractors accuse it of perpetrating a holocaust on Palestinians. Politicians and others frequently make inappropriate comparisons to the Holocaust. But when the prime minister of Israel – the man who refers to himself as the leader of the Jewish people – exploits the Holocaust, it is especially egregious.

Last week, at the meeting of the World Zionist Congress, Binyamin Netanyahu told a story that historians contend was cut largely from whole cloth. This much is true: in November 1941, the Grand Mufti of Jerusalem, Haj Amin al-Husseini, met with Adolf Hitler in Berlin. Al-Husseini opposed Jewish migration to the Holy Land and rejected the idea of a Jewish state there. Increased Jewish migration to Palestine strengthened Zionism and the grand mufti had been a vocal opponent of it – to the extent that Arab rioting he incited helped form British policy on the matter, closing the doors to Jews escaping Nazi Europe. The mufti and Hitler had mutual interests, but al-Husseini was concerned that Nazi antisemitism could drive more Jews to Palestine (although, by late 1941, this was largely a moot point).

In Netanyahu’s curriculum, though, it was the mufti who put the seed in Hitler’s brain to enact the “Final Solution.” (Perhaps the prime minister had recently read the book Nazis, Islamists and the Making of the Modern Middle East by Barry Rubin and Wolfgang G. Schwanitz, which is reviewed in this issue, but not any of its critiques.)

“Hitler didn’t want to exterminate the Jews at the time,” Netanyahu told the congress. “He wanted to expel the Jews. And Haj Amin al-Husseini went to Hitler and said: ‘If you expel them, they’ll all come here [to Palestine],’ … ’So what should I do with them?’ [Hitler] asked. [Al-Husseini] said, ‘Burn them.’”

There is no evidence that any such discussion took place. In fact, the Nazis’ exterminationist intent was already well formed before al-Husseini came to Berlin. The Wannsee Conference, which set out the plan for the “Final Solution,” was mere weeks away and its agenda was set before the mufti had tea with Hitler.

History suggests that al-Husseini was supportive of the Nazis’ plans, but he certainly was not their architect, as Netanyahu implied.

The prime minister’s speech raised outrage globally. Academics and experts in the Holocaust decried his rewriting of history. Critics claimed his remarks were meant to incite hatred against Palestinians at a time when Israel is condemning Palestinian incitement against Jews. Netanyahu was diminishing Hitler’s guilt for the fate of European Jewry, said others. Even Germany’s leader Angela Merkel reiterated her country’s responsibility for the Holocaust.

It is clear what Netanyahu was trying to do. He wanted to demonstrate that Palestinian antisemitism and incitement against Jews and Israelis go back a long way, and he is correct. But to do so, he apparently made stuff up and, far, far worse, exploited the history of the Holocaust and the memory of its victims to score political points. It was shameful, unbecoming his office, and certainly undermines any claim he has to call himself the leader of the Jewish people.

Elaborating on real history

The Middle East is awash in virulent antisemitism, from the battlefield to the classroom. An Anti-Defamation League global survey of anti-Jewish sentiment last year pinpointed the West Bank, Gaza and Iraq as the world’s most antisemitic lands in the world. More than 90% of those who took the survey in those areas expressed anti-Jewish views.

Some Middle East observers link the blind hatred of Jews in the Middle East to the work of Islamic preachers and Arab leaders who perpetuate the ideology of Nazi Germany. They say that antisemitism is the driving force behind the endless cycle of wars and that nothing that Israel does matters. They maintain that Israel’s enemies will fight until the Jewish state is wiped out and all Jews in the Middle East have been killed.

image -Nazis, Islamists and the Making of the Modern Middle East book coverBarry Rubin and Wolfgang G. Schwanitz, in Nazis, Islamists and the Making of the Modern Middle East (Yale University Press), provide ammunition for those who argue that peace is impossible with antisemitic Palestinian and Arab leaders. Rubin, who died before the book was published, was a prolific writer and leading Middle East scholar at the Global Research in International Affairs Centre in Israel. Schwanitz, an accomplished German-American Middle East historian, was a visiting professor at GRIAC at the time of the book’s publication.

In their richly researched book, Rubin and Schwanitz document the ancestry of antisemitism in the Middle East over the past century, connecting some of the contemporary Arab and Palestinian leaders to the vitriolic antisemitism of the Nazi collaborator, the Grand Mufti of Jerusalem Amin al-Husseini.

Backed up by new archival material and previously published research, Rubin and Schwanitz maintain that profound doctrinal hatred for Jews remains the core reason for the Arab-Israel conflict’s enduring and irresolvable nature.

Take a look at Israel’s partners for peace. Heads of state who were once Nazi sympathizers ran regimes that lasted 40 years in Iraq, 50 years in Syria and 60 years in Egypt. An echo of the antisemitism of the 1930s reverberated through speeches of Egypt’s Gamal Abdel Nasser, Iraqi’s Saddam Hussein, Iran’s Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini, Libya’s Muammar al-Qaddafi and Saudi Arabia’s Osama bin Laden. A Nazi sympathizer educated Yasser Arafat.

However, Rubin and Schwanitz in this book undermine their own credibility by mixing well-documented historical accounts with sweeping pronouncements that seem to be driven by a narrow ideological bias. At times, they sound more like polemicists than historians. They focus on an extreme interpretation of Islam, painting 1.2 billion Muslims with one brush. They ignore history that does not fit easily into their portrait. And their perspective does little to shed light on the contemporary Middle East, where Muslims fight Muslims.

The most provocative assertion in the book is that the grand mufti was responsible for the Nazi gas chambers and crematoria.

Rubin and Schwanitz portray al-Husseini as the most powerful leader of the Arabs and Muslims around the world in mid-century. At the height of his power, he promised Adolf Hitler that the entire Arab people would rally around the Nazi flag and wage a war of terror against Britain and France if Germany would stop all Jewish immigration to Palestine and guarantee independence to countries in the Middle East.

Rubin and Schwanitz maintain that Hitler decided to kill all the Jews only after al-Husseini insisted that they not be deported to Palestine. None of the European countries would accept Jewish refugees. If Palestine would not accept them, the reasoning goes, Hitler had no choice but to build gas chambers.

But their theory has a few holes in it. Historians have never discovered any Nazi plans to transport all the Jews of Eastern Europe and Russia to Palestine. Britain was already restricting immigration. Hitler’s support for al-Husseini’s demand to stop deportations to Palestine was an empty gesture.

Most historians regard al-Husseini as a minor historical figure. Al-Husseini was part of the Nazi war effort and played a role in the death of thousands of Jews. But he was not as powerful or influential in the

Middle East as he is portrayed here. As Rubin and Schwanitz point out, al-Husseini had no plan for actually staging insurrections in support of Nazi Germany. He recruited only 1,000 soldiers outside of Iraq, although he promised 100,000 for the Nazi cause. It is hard to imagine that the Holocaust would not have happened without al-Husseini’s intervention.

Regardless, Rubin and Schwanitz do a good job of placing al-Husseini in the context of the Middle East’s historic ties to Germany. They begin the tale with Max von Oppenheim, an advisor to Kaiser Wilhelm II in the early 1890s, who urged the German ruler to use Islam to inspire a Muslim revolt in the colonies of Germany’s enemies. At that time, Britain, France and Russia controlled the Middle East, India and North Africa. Zionism was not relevant.

The kaiser made a formal pact in 1898 with the Ottoman Empire’s sultan, Abdul Hamid II. Germany anticipated the alliance would lead to an Islamic jihad throughout Muslim lands, but the righteous call to jihad had little impact. Muslims, Turks and Arabs saw themselves as divided by religion, ethnicity, regional interest and self-interest. They paid little attention in their daily lives to the sultan’s belligerent proclamations.

During the First World War, von Oppenheim ran Germany’s covert war in the Middle East, reinvigorating the policy of Islamic jihad. Germany pushed Sultan Mehmed V to trigger a pan-Islamic revolt, as well as attack Russia’s Black Sea ports, and established activist groups in Arab communities dedicated to spread jihad in Russia-ruled Caucasus and in Arab-populated lands. However, once again, the pan-Islamic revolts never materialized. Tribal leaders took the money from Germany and did nothing.

By the late 1930s, the dynamics had reversed. Al-Husseini sought out the support of Nazi Germany. Hitler was initially cool to an alliance, believing the dark-skinned people of the Middle East were inferior to his blond-haired, blue-eyed Aryan nation, but he soon realized the Nazis and Muslims confronted common enemies – Britain, France and the Jews.

A strident antisemite who had been fighting Zionism since 1914, al-Husseini claimed the mantle of leader of transnational Islamism after Turkey, in 1924, abolished the Islamic Caliphate. He solidified his position within the Arab and Muslim communities through violence and murder.

Under his leadership, militancy became mainstream and moderation was regarded as treason. He turned Palestine into the defining issue of the Middle East. Anyone who did not support him or his views was a Zionist and imperial stooge. In the 1930s, he attracted attention for making passionate nationalist speeches in Jerusalem while crowds chanted “Death to Zionism,” rioted and killed Jews. His work clearly set the stage for Arab and Muslim leaders who followed his lead.

Meanwhile, in Germany between the wars, militant Islamists, backed by the disciples of von Oppenheim, solidified their control over mosques in Berlin and elsewhere, espousing an ideology that Rubin and Schwanitz say can be heard today from the pulpits. They cultivated relations with the leadership of Egypt’s Muslim Brotherhood, Iraq’s Ba’ath Party and radical factions in Syria and Palestine. By the time the Nazis looked to the Middle East, they found a ready-made network of radical antisemitic Islamists from Morocco to India, led by al-Husseini, with similar ideology, worldviews and interests. But the Islamic jihad failed once again to materialize.

Nazi ideology collapsed in 1945. However, a radical Arab nationalism, accompanied by a form of al-Husseini Islamism steeped in hatred of the Jews, flourished after the war. Little has changed despite the passage of decades, events and generations. Rubin and Schwanitz say al-Husseini’s legacy can been seen in the words and actions of Hamas, Hezbollah, Iran, Muslim Brotherhood and al-Qaeda. For them, as for the Nazis and al-Husseini, Jews are the villains of all history, the eternal enemy without whose extinction a proper world would be impossible.

Rubin and Schwanitz say the Arabic-speaking world’s historical connection with Nazi Germany was not solely responsible for the terrorism, conflict with Israel and anti-Jewish hatreds. However, they say, the historical relationships, along with the ideas and motives prompting it, help explain what has happened over the past 70 years. The forces that forged the partnership between al-Husseini and Hitler returned to help shape the course of Middle East history ever since. And it was not just the Nazi doctrine. In many cases, the individuals responsible for the Middle East’s post-1945 course had direct links to the Nazi era, they say.

“Comprehending this fact is the starting point for understanding modern Middle East history, its turbulence, tragedies and its many differences from other parts of the world,” Rubin and Schwanitz say.

Yes, they make a fascinating case for a starting point in trying to make sense of relations between Germany and the Middle East. But in this book they do not examine the record of contemporary Arab and Muslim leaders in much detail. They leave out other influences and other leading players that contributed to the making of the Middle East. Also, Rubin and Schwanitz seem to ignore that the antisemitism of the radical Islamists preceded their embrace of Nazism.

Rubin and Schwanitz have illuminated one diabolical aspect of a complex state of affairs – but much more remains to be said for a full understanding of the modern Middle East.

Robert Matas, a Vancouver-based writer, is a former journalist with the Globe and Mail. This review was originally published on the Isaac Waldman Jewish Public Library website and is reprinted here with permission. To reserve this book or any other, call 604-257-5181 or email library@jccgv.bc.ca. To view the catalogue, visit jccgv.com and click on Isaac Waldman library.

Witty, compassionate

The Farewell Party screens Nov. 10 in the Vancouver Jewish Film Festival. (photo from VJFF)

One could compile a very long list of movies whose enjoyment is enhanced by watching them with someone you love. The Farewell Party is the rare film that should be seen with someone you trust with your life.

Israeli filmmakers Tal Granit and Sharon Maymon set their funny, sensitive and ultimately moving tale among a small coterie of longtime friends heroically maintaining their independence and dignity in a Jerusalem retirement home. The suffering of a terminally ill member of their circle forces them to consider the merit, and confront the risks, of friend-assisted suicide.

There’s some pithy dialogue about the difference between helping a buddy and committing murder, but The Farewell Party isn’t interested in advancing a position on euthanasia or even grappling with the ethics or morality of one’s right to die. The film’s concern is for the spouse tasked with the agonizing responsibility of carrying out the decision of a suffering husband or wife.

Lest this sound like a must-avoid movie of the week, Granit and Maymon filter the proceedings through the deliciously absurdist mix of baleful fatalism and real-world pragmatism that is Jewish humor.

Through its first half, The Farewell Party smoothly glides from deadpan comedy to black comedy to bittersweet comedy. The chuckles taper off en route to a perfectly conceived anti-climax, a poignant coda to the lifelong love affair to whose last chapters we’ve been privy.

The Farewell Party screens Nov. 10, 6:45 p.m., in the Vancouver Jewish Film Festival (vjff.org). Wonderfully played by a cadre of veteran comic actors, it’s the film for anyone who’s ever grumbled that nobody makes movies for older audiences anymore.

After a marvelously droll opening scene in which Yehezkel (Ze-ev Revah) plays God to persuade a beloved friend to choose life and continue her treatment, the retired inventor is reluctantly corralled into helping ease the anguish of an expiring pal.

“They’re keeping him alive as though dying was a crime,” says the man’s wife, Yana (Aliza Rozen).

One of the movie’s refreshingly tart assumptions is that the elderly can’t afford the luxury of self-deception. Well, with one huge exception, that is: Yehezkel refuses to acknowledge that his wife’s steadily worsening memory lapses will necessitate moving her to an assisted-living facility in the not-distant future.

Notwithstanding the recurring presence of Yehezkel and Levana’s adult daughter and grandchild, this is a film about a stratum of society – older people – that is essentially invisible to everyone but its distinguished (and roguish) members. Out of necessity, they are compelled to create their own community.

There are moments in The Farewell Party, consequently, that edge toward a comedy about codgers executing a heist, or a drama examining the portentous final stages of long-term relationship. But Granit and Maymon maintain such a solid grasp on their film’s tone and esthetic that it never tips too far in either direction. The austere palette of cool blues and greys, combined with the near-absence of music, eliminates any whiff of sentimentality or, for that matter, situation comedy. What comes through in every frame of The Farewell Party is compassion for the human condition. If you think about it, movies can’t offer anything more compelling – or rewarding – than that.

Michael Fox is a writer and film critic living in San Francisco.

Not defined by illness

A scene from Semicolon: The Adventures of Ostomy Girl. (photo from Vancouver Jewish Film Festival)

The photo of Dana Marshall-Bernstein being hugged by her mother, Cari Marshall, captures the love at the heart of Semicolon: The Adventures of Ostomy Girl.

When the documentary was filmed, Dana was 25. She had been dealing with severe Crohn’s disease since she was 4 years old. With less than four inches of intestine left after numerous surgeries, she receives all her nutrition intravenously. At age 16, she had her first ostomy – surgery to make an opening in the body so that body waste can be discharged. Poop jokes flourish in the family, one of the many ways in which they cope, and the brief Ostomy Girl cartoon that is included in the film shows the sheer strength of will this young woman possesses.

Over the months of filming, Dana – who lives with her parents in Las Vegas – is in and out of Cleveland Clinic in Ohio, where she is treated by some seemingly amazing doctors, skill- and personality-wise, such as Dr. Feza Remzi. Her health gets worse and she finally makes the decision she understandably has resisted for so long – to be put on the transplant list for a small intestine.

At times, Dana seems younger than her years, so vulnerable; at other moments, her literal life-and-death concerns add years. Somehow, with the help of her parents – especially her mother, but also her father, Ed – Dana has led a relatively full life, as normally as possible. Somehow, she still has her sense of humor. Somehow, she has the courage and the energy to try and help others, through awareness and fundraising events for Cleveland Clinic and the Crohn’s and Colitis Foundation of America.

Semicolon screens at the Vancouver Jewish Film Festival (vjff.org) on Nov. 10, 3:30 p.m.

Filmmaker as subject

Henrik Gawkowski, as seen in Shoah, directed by Claude Lanzmann. (photo from Les Films Aleph/Why Not Productions)

The French intellectual who created what many view as the definitive documentary of the Holocaust is himself the subject of a documentary, called Claude Lanzmann: Spectres of the Shoah.

Commentators in the film are unanimous that Shoah, Lanzmann’s nine-and-a-half-hour study of the Holocaust, is a masterpiece. They also agree that Lanzmann is himself a piece of work.

A former friend calls him a megalomaniac. Another commentator says he is “a very challenging individual.” Through interviews with Lanzmann, the viewer gets a sense of what they are talking about.

Over a 12-year odyssey of interviewing and filmmaking, what Lanzmann set out to create was a film, in his words, “not about the Shoah, but a film that would be the Shoah.”

His first challenge was how he would approach a topic so enormous and distressing.

“What is my theme?” he asks during interviews for the documentary. “The heart of the Shoah, what is it?”

On this he concludes: “Shoah is not a film about survival. And, as it is not a movie about survivors … the survivors are not in Shoah, Shoah is a film about death.”

He recounts an incident that left him hospitalized for a month after a former SS officer’s wife discovered a hidden camera in his bag and Lanzmann and his female assistant were chased, beaten and bloodied by thugs associated with the war criminal. In another instance, Lanzmann relates how he almost drowned while swimming off the coast of Israel. He recalls that he had no gratitude to the individual who saved him and speculates that perhaps he had intended suicide because he knew he could not finish the film in the two years he had been given, with the instruction to keep it under two hours.

As Lanzmann goes on at length about his artistic struggles and the terrible toll the project took on his spirit, a viewer’s empathy may fade. Considering the subject matter of Shoah, lamentations on the difficulties of making a film – however monumental – come across as startlingly self-absorbed. Given the advance billing of Lanzmann’s character with which the documentary begins, the film comes full circle, providing a character sketch of a difficult individual who has done a remarkable thing.

Claude Lanzmann: Spectres of the Shoah double bills with What Our Fathers Did: A Nazi Legacy at the Vancouver Jewish Film Festival (vjff.org) on Nov. 11, 3:30 p.m.

Shuls, past to present

Left to right: Nico Slobinsky of Centre for Israel and Jewish Affairs, Pacific Region; His Excellency Balint Odor; Ezra Shanken of Jewish Federation of Greater Vancouver; and Andre Molnar, Hungarian honorary consul. (photo from Beth Israel)

On Oct. 15, Congregation Beth Israel hosted an exhibition of Eastern European synagogues, sponsored by the Hungarian government. In his welcoming address at the opening, His Excellency Balint Odor, Hungarian ambassador, explained that Hungary is currently heading up the International Holocaust Remembrance Alliance (IHRA).

“IHRA is very relevant today in fighting spiraling antisemitism across Europe and around the world,” he said. “The mandate of IHRA is to combat all forms of racism, hate incitement and antisemitism, as well as promoting Holocaust education. This year, IHRA has focused a great deal of effort on illustrating the depth of Jewish culture in the region, in particular the synagogue.”

photo - The synagogue in Baja, Hungary
The synagogue in Baja, Hungary. (photo from exhibit catalogue by Rudolf Klein)

The traveling exhibit showcases renovated synagogues throughout East-Central Europe, from 1782-1944, some of which are still in use. Unlike in Germany and Austria, where the majority of synagogues were destroyed, many survived in Eastern Europe. From the 1970s onward, local municipalities restored and renovated synagogues. This work escalated following the fall of the Berlin Wall and the influx of foreign financial support.

The panels show a variety of different styles, ranging from cottage shuls to “palatial” synagogues. The richness and diversity of these places of worship are reminders of how vibrant Jewish life was in Europe prior to the Shoah.

The role of the presidency of IHRA offers Hungary the opportunity to confront its history and look back at the role the Hungarian state played in the genocide. Close to half a million Hungarian Jews perished during the Holocaust. Most of these people died in 1944 following the occupation of Hungary. At that time, every third victim in Auschwitz was a Hungarian Jew. Today, the Hungarian Jewish community is the largest in East-Central Europe. Most Hungarian Jews live in the capital, Budapest, which has some 20 working synagogues.

As Rabbi David Bluman said in his welcome of the ambassador: “The synagogues we see in this exhibit are not just the past, they are also the present for those who worship in them, and will be the future for European Jewry. This is very relevant for us here in our beautiful new synagogue – our present, our future.“

The exhibit was at Beth Israel from Oct. 15-20.