Himmo Melech Yerushalaim

It's been some years since I saw this movie, but now (2024), in connection with a new documentary about the director, I heard "Himmo" was a discouraging flop that he felt ruined his chances of leaving the niche of gay cinema and entering the mainstream. I was surprised, because the film is well put together. And I was also surprised because it by no means breaks away entirely from gayness. But if I had to guess what tha problem was, I'd guess it was the bleakness of the whole thing. After the Six Day War, and even more so after the Yom Kippur War, there was a fear in Israel that even if we win our battles, they're taking too much out of us. "Himmo," which is set in a ward for wounded soldiers, unsparingly puts the price of war front and center. It's believably scripted and acted. Confined as it is, for the most part, to a single room, maybe it's a more natural property for the stage.

During the 1948 siege of Jerusalem a young nurse arrives at an understaffed, makeshift hospital in an old Christian monastery; among the invalid soldiers is a once popular ladies man now fatally crippled by the loss of both legs, on arm, and most of his face. What follows is an intriguing Gothic allegory, played out against a dreamlike background of wounded bodies and minds. Much of the symbolism is elusive, but the film was directed with an artist's eye for deeper meanings, some of which aren't easily translated over the twin barriers of language and culture. And yet there's no denying the skill and talent behind the camera. The action is symbolic but never portentous, mysterious but never confusing, dark but never oppressive, and the pace never flags over its 86 swift minutes.