Simon Magus

I saw it behind beautiful cinematography and inspired atmosphere, behind the great performance of Noah Taylor as a hopeful story about generosity, as a splendid parable and wise illustration of the Hassidic story. A film about devil, errant ma, comunity, rallway station and wise noble man passioned by poetry. About love and terrible hate, about generosity and the sacrifice fixing everything. A great film, profound useful to see it time by time for understand the nuances of profound, real, authentical faith.

I've just watched the last 15 minutes of SIMON MAGUS for about the fourth time-- Sundance shows it all the time, and maybe that channel's programer intends to give it the exposure it should have had, years ago. One imagines Director Hopkins is a spell-binder-- to have coaxed the exceptional cast onto an under-financed backwoods Welsh location, and then gotten them on the same wavelength despite trepidations about looking silly in shtetl-garb and forelocks. Ordinarily I am deeply aversive to holy-fool fictions-- yet this one made me privy to an ethnic communal memory; the end-credits express thanks to Isaac Bashevis Singer, and one imagines him loving it (a 1972 documentary on him had the same mixture of tomfoolery and elegy). A tone-deaf earlier commentator decried the sound-track-- will bet you'll sit all the way through the scroll of names, listening to the last variations on a score that, like everything else about this film, is a lovingly precise devotional.

This is a fairy tale about Jews and Christians in an Eastern European shtetl of the XIX century - a world that completely disappeared, which adds to the movie's sentimental value. A fairy tale about a "holy fool" that is generally charming, sometimes scary, brilliantly filmed, and visually arresting.

Unfortunately, it didn't quite do it for me - didn't fully step the line from reality into visual absurdity, but stayed at the threshold, which was somewhat irritating because I am generally not a fan of watching fairy tales on screen. Despite that, it left the best impression on me.

This is the sort of film a mature, healthy British film industry needs to produce if it is to be remembered for anything more than gangster movies and low brow comedies. I don't know anything about producer-writer Ben Hopkins, but he's clearly an outstanding talent. The story is a simple and almost predictable one, but the world in which it takes place--Silesia, 1890, perhaps? --is one we aren't used to seeing on film. I'm not doing the film sufficient justice by describing it as a Jewish folk tale told in the best traditions of Hammer films, but Nicholas Knowland's magnificent cinematography is reminiscent of Bray's best efforts. Noah Taylor is superb in the title role and is ably supported by a host of fine television actors. Strongly recommended.

I stumbled upon this film on late night British TV during Xmas 2002, having never heard of it. After watching the main titles, it was obvious i would watch it all, and i'm glad i did.

The story, for what its worth, centres around a small Jewish community in the 19th century, vying for control of a new train station so that enough people will visit their village so as to allow them to continue praying together. However, the more illustrious local Christians want the station for themselves and begin to put into motion a course of events which will sway the squire (Rutger Hauer) to give them the rights to the land.

This is merely a part of the film. Its real focus is on the many characters it establishes and develops in a very short amount of time. Central is poor beggar and sometime magician Simon who is losing his faith due to the hatred shown him by his fellow Jews. Then there is Dovid, played with gentle grace by Stuart Townsend - ostensibly the star - who heads up the plans for the station and agrees to read and comment on the squire's poetry to curry favour with him. His relationship with the squire, his bride to be (Embeth Davitz, magnificent as always) and a beautiful, learned girl are the heart of the film.

What makes the film so memorable, however, is in Simon's journey away from his people into the arms of the Christians, only to be used as a weapon against the faith he has run from. Highlights include his conversations with the Satan-like Ian Holm - who convinces Simon of Jews' inherent evil - and his journeys along the railroad, of which he has no understanding and which he believes to be the means by which souls travel to the afterlife. These sequences are so visually poetic that any pretension therein is forgiveable.

Yet while writer/director Ben Hopkins is obviously concerned with issues of education, tolerance, spirituality and all forms of love and forgiveness, there is room for quiet moments of humour. Simon's early introductory scenes are witty and warm, making his subsequent actions all the more cruel on the part of the other characters. The local barman, whose idea of God is a beer glass which never empties, has few scenes but creates a sympathetic rounded character, as do many of the minor performers.

Inexplicably critically reviled by some British journalists, this film would appeal to anyone with a taste for off-beat European cinema or anyone looking for a character piece or something a little different. It seemed at first to be many separate things - at first i thought it to be a literary costume drama, then a period version of Finding Forrester, but of course, with all films of quality it is not one thing nor the other, but a combination of many elements woven together masterfully. Ben Hopkins is, on the basis of this, an interesting talent and all involved should be applauded for their excellent work.

You can bet if this film were in French or Polish, critics would lavish praise upon it.