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January 30, 2009
Films promote Israeli dance
Screenings will raise money for the JCCGV's Festival Ha'Rikud.
ADRIANNE FITCH
For people who are stuck in the past and paralyzed by fear, a single courageous act can open the door to happiness, freedom, even redemption.
This theme is the common thread between Noodle and Joy, two strikingly different Israeli films to be screened Thursday, Feb. 5, at the Ridge Theatre.
The double feature movie fundraiser is co-presented by the Jewish Community Centre of Greater Vancouver and the Vancouver Israeli Folk Dance Society. Proceeds will go towards Festival Ha'Rikud, an annual Israeli folk dancing festival for children and youth, now in its sixth year and scheduled for May 24-25.
Noodle is the poignant, heart-warming story of Miri Calderone (played by Mili Avital), a mournful El Al flight attendant who has lost two husbands in war.
Miri's staid, ordered life turns to shambles when her cleaning lady is suddenly deported to Beijing, leaving behind a bewildered six-year-old son (Bao Qi Chen), who speaks only Chinese. In her attempt to reunite mother and child, Miri must deal with language barriers, a Byzantine, uncaring bureaucracy (Israeli and Chinese), distrust toward authorities and her own growing attachment to the boy, whom she nicknames Noodle.
In a heartrending scene, Noodle inquires about the two young men in photographs, deeply touched by Miri's sorrow and loss. "No baby," she explains. "No baby," he repeats solemnly, taking her hand as her eyes fill with tears.
The complex, authentic relationships between Miri and the film's supporting characters are skilfully depicted. Particularly memorable is Miri's sister, Gila (Anat Waxman), a high school teacher with a dry, sarcastic wit, a marriage on the rocks and a closely guarded secret.
The sisters love, bicker, judge and push each other's buttons as only sisters can. Asked why she stayed married so long, Gila responds, "We were afraid. You know what it's like. You're just as stuck as I am. Meanwhile, our lives go by. I'm tired of being afraid to admit it. And I'm tired of being afraid of what you think."
Also wonderful are Alon Abutbul as Miri's tormented brother-in-law Izzy and Yiftach Klein as Matti, an affable travel writer and childhood friend. Director Ayelet Menahemi has crafted a beautiful, compelling, universal film about love, courage, sorrow and human decency.
Compared to Noodle, the movie Joy, directed by Julie Shles, is almost cartoonish.
Joy Levine (Sigalit Fuchs), 34, is a lonely, overweight, childlike woman with a tacky wardrobe, dead-end job, degrading sexual affair and highly dysfunctional family. She spends much of her time watching television and swimming at a local pool.
Joy's brother, Gil (Tal Friedman), fired from his computer job, sits in an underground parking garage all day, watching time tick by. He avoids telling Nora (Keren Mor), his frustrated, neglected wife, that he is now unemployed.
Joy's parents, Chaya and Yitzhak (Rivka Michaeli and Yossi Pollack), live near the airport, their days structured by planes passing overhead. Humiliated by his failing bladder, Yitzhak calls phone sex operators. Humiliated by her husband's former infidelities, Chaya calls her children. Continuously. In fact, the phones ring, unanswered, throughout much of the film.
The film's weakness is in defining this family by their dysfunction, with too little attention paid to nuance or character development. Repetition is overused, whether it be ringing phones, a TV show's pitch or planes flying overhead.
Things change for Joy when she arranges to appear on Gotta Be Happy, a reality television show. She reveals a shameful family secret: 22 years ago, her father's infidelities resulted in the family's rejection by their circle of friends.
Joy accepts a challenge: convince the whole gang to set aside their grudge and attend a surprise party in celebration of Chaya and Yitzhak's 35th wedding anniversary. Due to the show's forgiveness theme, the party is scheduled for the day after Yom Kippur. Considering the behavior of boorish, crass producer Maya (Dorit Lev-Ari), not to mention the depths to which we all know reality TV can stoop, the viewer can be forgiven for anticipating a humiliating, traumatic showdown.
But the film's real story is in Joy's quest, in her journey toward strength, growth and confidence. She meets Radi (Alexander Senderovich), a mime, photographer and fellow mall employee, tiny as she is large, their physical differences almost a caricature.
One of the film's most vivid scenes show Joy and Radi playing underwater, their contrasting bodies juxtaposed. In another scene, a surreal motorized tour through the mall is enhanced by a striking visual display of Radi's feelings and talent. In Joy's laughter, you can just hear years of tension draining away.
Though Radi's character is tragically underused and his relationship with Joy underdeveloped, his elephant story aptly summarizes the film's theme.
"I was walking by a circus and saw a huge elephant tied to a little metal pole," said Radi. "It didn't make sense – the only thing holding such a big strong animal was a little pole. So I asked the trainer, what's the trick? He said it's very simple. Since the elephant was little, he was tied to the pole. He tried to run away but the pole was much stronger. So he just stopped trying. Gave up and gave in."
The film is saved, somewhat, when supporting characters come through in a crisis, surprising themselves and each other (a trait often considered uniquely Israeli).
Joy also offers memorable images of Israel, including deserted highways swarming with bicycling kids on Yom Kippur, when the entire society shuts down.
Adrianne Fitch is a Vancouver freelance writer.
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