Kadosh: Sagrado

I would agree that this film progresses at a very slow pace but the story about the secretive world of orthodox Judaism is interesting. In spite of being traditionalist Hassidism is relatively modern to the long history of the Jewish religion being formed amongst Eastern European Jewry in the 18th century, partly as a reaction to anti-semitism and secularism.

The director Amos Gitai has taken on a very difficult task in portraying this sect of Judaism. What is put across well is the incompatibility of conservative traditionalism with a secular society and how suffocating and repressive religious strictures can be. A good story but one that could have shown in more detail the contrasts between the reality of secular Israeli society and the closed world of mysticism.

Judging from the number of comments, KADOSH seems to have received more international exposure than many better Israeli films have. I would hate to think that the reason is that KADOSH encourages the audience to feel superior to the Orthodox Jews, because as other comments have pointed out, the film misrepresents the lifestyle of Orthodox Jews in both big ways and small. I understand there is a tiny industry of ultra-Orthodox Jewish video dramas in Israel, and it would be interesting to see in contrast how these people portray themselves; but few outsiders are likely ever to see those productions because of their commercial appeal is nil. The portrayal of the ultra-Orthodox is left to well-intentioned distortions like THE SECRETS (a more recent Israeli film) and to viciously intended distortions like this one, in which the camera moves from a dead body to a shelf of Jewish books and a Jewish candelabrum as if to say "The blame lies here."

There are some thoughtful and well-written reviews both at Amazon and the IMDb and elsewhere in which it is claimed that the type of Jewish Orthodoxy presented here is not accurate. There are quibbles about the unnatural way that Meir puts on his garments. There is criticism of the selection of prayers recited, especially Meir giving thanks that he was not born a woman.

Moreover, there is the assertion that orthodox Judaism does NOT require that a man repudiate his wife after ten years of marriage even though she may be barren. Furthermore, the character of Yossef is said not to be typical of orthodox Jewish men since he takes his wife sexually without love or tenderness, that he hits her when angry, and goes about the streets of Israel with a loudspeaker hawking his religious point of view.

First, it is a shame (if true) that the way Meir dressed and recited his morning prayers was inaccurate, because such details can easily be made accurate with some research. Certainly director Amos Gitai had access to many orthodox people who could have helped him. Putting that aside, the artistic point of the opening scene was to immerse the viewer into a world based on religious beliefs and practices that are strikingly different from the secular world of today. He also wanted to introduce his theme, which is that women in Orthodox Judaism, as in the other two great religions of the Middle East, in their fundamentalist interpretations--this bears repeating: in their fundamentalist interpretations--are not on an equal level with men.

Certainly in a realistic sense, Meir, since he dearly loves his wife, would have chosen something else to recite. However, I think we can give Gitai some artistic license here. The fact that such a prayer exits in the Jewish canon is not to be denied.

Second, the film does NOT claim that Orthodox Judaism requires that a man repudiate his wife after ten years of childless marriage. Instead it makes the very strong point that, from the point of view of Orthodox Judaism, such a woman is not fulfilling her role in society, and that there will be people outside the marriage who will try to persuade him to abandon her. Gitai's screenplay contains several textual pronouncements to that effect. The fact that Meir is torn between his love for his wife and his love for his religion is really the point. How he resolves that dilemma is an individual choice, and that is what the film shows.

As for the unflattering character of Yossef, whom Rivka's sister Malka is persuaded to marry (not forced, mind you, but persuaded) he is a foil and a counterpoint for the loving and deeply religious Meir. The fact that he is not a poster boy for Orthodox Judaism is not a valid criticism of the film, since all religions have their black sheep.

I think a fairer criticism of the film can be made by addressing the question of, was it entertaining and/or a work of art?

Here I have mixed feelings. Certainly the acting was excellent, and the theme a worthy one. Gitai's desire to show the underlying similarities among the conservative expressions of all three Abrahamic religions, through their shared patriarchal attitudes toward women and their estrangement from the postmodern world, was very well taken and appropriate. Where I think Gitai failed as film maker is in his inability to be completely fair to the orthodox way of life--his failure to show the joys as well as the sorrows of its everyday life which would help outsiders to understand why people adhere to such a way of life.

I also think that the film could have been better edited. In the documentary about how the film was made we see scenes that were cut that I think should have been retained, especially the scene in which the omelette was made and the scene in which the mother critiques the life choices her three daughters have made. Instead we have some scenes that ran too long. It is a fine technique that Gitai sometimes employs of letting the silence speak for the characters, of holding the camera on the scene to allow the audience to reflect and then to reflect again. However, I think this can be overdone and was overdone, and that judicious cutting of some of the scenes would have strengthened the movie.

Bottom line: a slow polemic of a movie that nonetheless is worth seeing because of the importance and timeliness of its theme, the originality of some of the techniques, and the fine acting, especially by Yael Abecassis who played Rivka and Meital Barda who played Malka.

One more point: yellow subtitles, please!

(Note: Over 500 of my movie reviews are now available in my book "Cut to the Chaise Lounge or I Can't Believe I Swallowed the Remote!" Get it at Amazon!)

I saw "Kadosh" when it was screened in Israel for the first time, following its participation in the Canne Festival. Amos Gitai, the most acclaimed Israeli film maker abroad, made me understand here why he is not exactly known inside his country. Well, "Kadosh" is a postcard. It shows the ultraorthodox jewish society in Jerusalem in an extremely stereotypic view, developing a story, that most of it looks too much "Hollywood like" to any person living in Israel. I must say the movie is totally uneven, moving between interesting and entertaining towards grotesque and melodramatic. Yael Abekasis, Yoram Hatab and Uri Klausner make wonderful parts, unlike the newcomer Meital Barda as an orthodox girl cheating her husband with a music band leader (Sami Hori). Both of them get mostly irritating lines, which often bring the movie towards being shallow and childish. Anyway, I wouldn't watch it again, but I guess it was worth spending a couple of hours in the movie theater. My Grade: *** (out of *****)

Gritty, realistic indictment of religious fanaticism among the ultra-orthodox Chasidic Jews of the Mea Shearim section of Jerusalem, a place so extreme that women are stoned for daring to go sleeveless, cars stoned if driven on the sabbath. The film's exceptionally deliberate, slow pacing and ascetic economy steadily build an unbroken, smoldering, muted intensity, which, along with the fact that it offers a rare, highly detailed glimpse into an insular world, is probably why this modest production was the first from Israel to be accepted for screening at Cannes in 25 years.

The dramatic structure is simple, symmetric: two sisters, one forced out of, the other into marriage, dramatize the severe oppression of this fundamentalist sect. Woman's only function is to procreate, to furnish the legions who will overrun the sect's enemies. In his morning devotions the husband thanks god for not making him a woman. Kadosh, which means sacred or holy, is here used scathingly, bitterly ironically.

The personal needs of the individual--love, privacy, self-determination--are pitted against the demands of society, an old theme. Though this particular sect is unusual, downright medieval, in its absolute adherence to the letter of the law, it is not unlike in kind, if not degree, fundamentalism everywhere else. All fundamentalists view sex with suspicion and dread, all strive to restrict it. Femininity is uniformly degraded, regarded as inherently unclean, the devil's work.

The film's only misstep, the death, occurs at the very end, but it weakens the credibility of everything that preceded it. Though its justice is poetic, its unlikelihood and obvious appeal to emotion belie the restrained realism of the rest of the film, jumping out like an editorial intrusion in a factual documentary, striking as false a note as magic realism would have in this context. It made wonder about the politics and intent of writer-director Gitai.

The majority of Israeli's do not cast a dispassionate eye on their Chasidic brethren. The ultra-orthodox wield a disproportionate power over the life of Israel by virtue of their crucial swing vote in a fragmented multiparty system. Just as no Republican can hope to secure a presidential nomination without the backing of the Christian Right, even though it accounts for only 15% of the GOP, so to no Prime Minister can be elected in Israel without the support of the fundamentalists of Mea Shearim. Because of this they are able to inflict on the nonsectarian majority their sectarian laws concerning the observance of the sabbath, dietary restrictions, divorce, etc., in addition to refusing to participate in the universal military draft. The divisions are deep and rancorous. The purposes of Kadosh may be overly specific, vengeful, political. Though opposite, it may be as drastic as what it condemns. The Chasids, particularly the Rabbi and groom-to-be, are portrayed as authoritarian ogres.

Whatever its faults, however, at least it deals with fundamentalism on a more level playing field than two fundamentalist films released recently, The Straight Story and Color of Paradise, which by no small coincidence were shown in the very same theater. Unlike the latter two, a least it doesn't hold out false promises, hide a sinister heart behind a smiling face. Not surprisingly, the theater was practically empty, as opposed to being nearly full for the other two, escapist, vehicles. (If I were a fundamentalist, mightn't it be too easy to deride film as corrupt, the enjoyment of Philistines?)