film review
Plenty of movies have depicted the lives of religious Jews as constrained, difficult and filled with sacrifice. But I can’t remember a more joyless portrayal of Orthodox Jews than “Tikkun.”
Israeli writer-director Avishai Sivan presents us with a father and grown son, a kosher butcher and a dedicated scholar, for whom the reiteration of rituals provides no pleasure, comfort or nourishment. They seemingly operate on autopilot, long out of touch with whatever inspired them to choose their paths.
Shot in harsh black and white, “Tikkun” places Haim-Aaron and his father in a bleak, unforgiving and largely unpopulated world that is weirdly fascinating without being remotely inviting. It’s as if they inhabit a time warp, which is as much a prison as a metaphor.
When their lives of quiet desperation are disrupted (in a way that suggests a spin on Abraham and Isaac), both men are presented with the challenge — and opportunity — of re-examining their faith. From this point on, “Tikkun” becomes even more enigmatic and, ultimately, perverse.
The spiritual and psychological mysteries, excellent cinematography and committed acting notwithstanding, “Tikkun” is not a pleasurable movie to watch. It certainly provokes discussion, although one prefers to come out of a movie with questions other than “what the heck was such-and-such scene about?”
“Tikkun,” which received its Bay Area premiere last fall in the Mill Valley Film Festival, opens Friday, June 17 at the Alamo Drafthouse New Mission in San Francisco.
Other Israeli films about religious Jews — such as “Mountain” (screening in this summer’s San Francisco Jewish Film Festival), “Fill the Void” (2012) and “My Father My Lord” (2007) — examine issues like the limits of faith and the restricted freedom of women. These films convey, even to secular audiences, a sense of the rewards and appeal of Orthodox Judaism.
“Tikkun” has none of those films’ warmth or affection.
Haim-Aaron, his father and mother are locked into some kind of pact whose covenants don’t seem to go beyond honor, respect and survival.
Consequently, after Haim-Aaron (Aharon Traitel) collapses in the shower and paramedics are unable to resuscitate him, his father (Khalifa Natour) will not let go. It is only through his efforts — well, prayerful supplications — that Haim-Aaron returns to the land of the living.
A neurotic, obsessive and uncommunicative man, Haim-Aaron is not an easy person to understand or like. His post-resurrection journey to explore the (sordid) world well outside of the yeshiva evokes none of the risky excitement of a young person’s growth steps and the trepidation we feel when an unbalanced, unpredictable person is let loose in the world.
“Tikkun” suggests, in ways that are contradictory and less than clear, that Haim-Aaron’s problems derive from sexual repression and inexperience. Unfortunately, his awkward efforts to confront his fears and loathing head-on do little to free him from his demons.
The film certainly gets points for its refusal to compromise, which likely contributed to its wins for best film, screenplay, cinematography and actor (Natour) at last summer’s Jerusalem Film Festival.
Indeed, we infer from the jarring opening shot of a doomed cow facing the camera that Avishai Sivan won’t be offering an optimistic view of nature, human or otherwise.
“Tikkun” opens Friday, June 17 at the Alamo Drafthouse Cinema, 2550 Mission St., S.F. www.drafthouse.com In Hebrew and Yiddish with English subtitles (not rated, 120 minutes)