Laços Sagrados

I was very moved by Kadosh, which I think is a very fine movie. Some scenes are a bit sketchy, and I was puzzled by the ending. But the acting is superb and the story is deeply moving.

I walked away angry at the way women are treated in this ultra orthodox religious sect of Judaism, but it could have been an ultra religious Christian sect or some other religion - the point is that too many traditional religions treat women as seond class, oppressed persons.

Remember what Marx said: Religion is the opiate of the people. perhaps he was correct!

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."

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?)

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 *****)

I saw Kadosh in New York last fall and was deeply moved by it. I have no personal experience of orthodox Judaism, but have long been fascinated by its ideas and rituals; most of my "knowledge" comes from reading I B Singer, which may be more folkloric and colorful than accurate. I'm no fan of orthodoxy in any form, and this film only strengthened my feelings. I was weeping for both Malka and Rivka by the end--two strong, strongly emotional characters brought to grief by the strictures of their religion. It's really interesting to read the earlier comments on this page--I am so unfamiliar with the orthodox world, and was so gripped by the sheer emotional wallop of the story, that perhaps I was shaken from my usual critical stance. I hope to to see the film again