In “Holywall,” Israeli filmmaker Levi Zini puts his country up against the Wall. His bold attempt to make the Western Wall in Jerusalem a metaphor for the widely disparate attitudes toward religion in his land succeeds admirably.
It will screen Thursday, March 7, the last day of the seventh annual Contra Costa International Jewish Film Festival at the Contra Costa Jewish Community Center in Walnut Creek.
In less than an hour, this little film shows many sides of Israel in a fast-moving, almost lighthearted way. It begins, as it almost must, with the Chassidim, the fervently religious Jews. They are passing through the security checkpoint at the wall and one man’s belt keeps setting off the alarm. The dichotomy between centuries-old tradition and modern technology is immediately apparent.
Once on the other side, a number of the men go to pray, some swaying, some literally kicking up their heels in joy at communication with their Lord. Others talk on their cell phones.
People put notes into the cracks in the wall and a sweeper sweeps away the scraps of paper from the day before. A bride and groom mingle with yeshiva boys, tourists and panhandlers. Soldiers pass back and forth. At one point, the entire area is cleared because of a bomb scare.
The Wailing Wall, the kotel, whatever you care to call the stones that are traditionally considered to be the only extant remnant of the original Temple, is many things to the Israelis and, indeed, to Jews around the world. It is an archeological relic of tremendous significance, a symbol, a meeting place, a destination, a possible terrorist target.
And yet, when Zini confides to a fellow Israeli that he is going to make a film about the Wall, the friend responds: “Oh, I didn’t know you’d been to China.”
This kind of secular detachment also is typical of Israel.
One well-connected, formerly Orthodox Jew who became non-religious objects to an obligatory cardboard yarmulke. “Why can’t I come here and just be myself?” he asks. “Why can’t I stand at the Wall with my wife, my mother?”
The separation of the sexes by a partition is comforting to some, galling to others. An Orthodox woman explains the reason: so that the men will not be distracted during prayer. But an author, raised Orthodox and now writing books about sexuality in the religious community, takes delight (or revenge?) in peering over the partition at the men.
On Rosh Chodesh, a group of Reform women come to worship under police protection. They are shouted at by observant men. There is a brief scuffle; the women disperse and four men are taken away by the police.
The wall is the site of ceremony as well as individual prayer. A troop of young paratroopers is inducted into military service as proud and fearful parents look on. Bar mitzvah boys from Bucharest and Queens don their tallit for the first time.
A local ganif will show you how to put on tefillin. If you put on the little boxes and wrap the straps around your head and arm even once, he explains, you’ll be assured of a place in heaven. Of course, it will cost you 10 shekels but everybody has to make a living.
Just as everybody has to come to the Wall. Old, young, believers or not, priests and nuns, Asians and little kids, soldiers on leave and teenagers on a tour. It’s a fascinating cross section of humanity, a country, a religion. It’s well worth a look.
The festival is presented by the CCJCC and the Israel Center of the Jewish Federation of the Greater East Bay, with major funding from the Jewish Community Foundation of the federation and the Consulate General of Israel, as well as individuals and corporations. It is co-sponsored by area synagogues and Jewish organizations.