Haim Tabakman 2009 Israel
Starring: Zohar Strauss, Ran Danker, Ravit Rozen, Tzahi Grad, Avi Grayinik, Eva Zrihen-Attali, Mati Atlas
A new year traditionally brings new resolutions, old hopes that one often so desperately wants to achieve and ritually attempts to force into practice. I'm no different but, after settling on what I consider the most important of my own aspirations, have struggled to shake off the lesser parts of my personality and have done very little of any note in the past 12 days. One positive thing that the dawn of 2016 did encourage me to do though was a bout of spring cleaning that, in true movie fashion, yielded the discovery of long-forgotten, ill-gotten gains - namely, a box of video tapes containing films recorded from the annals of TV history long before the days of Sky Plus and the comforts of a regular salary. Some are classics from a variety of genres, some most assuredly are not. Others, such as Mani Kaul's 1971 adaptation of Hindi pioneer playwright Mohan Rakesh's Ashad Ka Ek Din, I've since discovered are a real bugger to find even in the days of DVD, Blu-Ray, restoration and on-demand streaming services so I'm delighted to get the opportunity to experience them. Also among all these are a couple of films that even I in all my geekery don't remember much about. One of those films, Haim Tabakman's Eyes Wide Open, I could recall a mere visual of, that of two men (one apparently a Haredi or Hasidic Jew) chin deep in a pool of blue-as-a-road-sign water, the smiles on their faces belying the danger such a visual could conjure up. Watching the opening minutes the mystery only deepened with torrential rain beating down and, in a gorgeous moment, dripping from the wide brimmed hat of the main character as he attempts to break into a shuttered building, the raised hand and sickle on the sign matching his own as he uses a large rock to defeat the padlock and chain blocking his way. Is he a particularly ill-prepared burglar? Or perhaps the owner, either having locked himself out or suffered the pain of repossession? Behind him is a death notice and as he enters the sodden floor and upturned furniture seem to suggest that neither of the latter are likely. He soon sets to cleaning the mess revealing it as a butcher's shop but still doesn't look all that pleased with himself. An extended glance at a photo of an older man indicates that it may be a relative and that his efforts might come from a deep familial obligation although as he can't even raise the enthusiasm to greet his customers let alone engage them in conversation it's difficult to imagine who he could be obliging. He seems like he hasn't a loved one left...except he does. He has a pretty wife who stops singing when he returns home and four submissive children, a sudden cut (no pun intended) as he snaps a heavy book closed to his cleaver slicing through a side of meat hinting that coldness and even violence may not be a stranger to his household while the sight of so many children indicates that maybe he hasn't always been like this. The man's name is Aaron and he's devoutly religious and as strict with himself as he is with his family - despite his adopted profession he doesn't allow himself much meat or fish, rejects his wife's advances and his associates' modernist insight into religion and can't bring himself to trust a helpless stranger. So it's a shock when he shows a flicker of charity and even hope, stating that "there is no such thing as broken", and takes on (and takes in) homeless, young student Ezri, teaching him his trade despite the disapproval of the insular society he lives in. In just one of a series of nice moments of mirroring Aaron finally lets his guard down and the pair go swimming, Aaron immersing himself in the water he was earlier trying to avoid then taking his apprentice home and singing boisterously at the dinner table, the release liberating him at least temporarily. The film's pace, both patient and intense, allows their relationship to develop almost unnoticed until they kiss (although Aaron at first rebuffs Ezri's advances) hungrily. The sex scenes that follow are skilfully shot, as if Tabakman and DOP Axel Schneppat were mindful of their bodies entwined coming off as controversy-seeking. Zohar Strauss (Aaron) is exceptional throughout, his opposite number (Ran Danker) lesser so, the former's masterful internal conflict far exceeding the latter's half-heartedness. Danker in fact risks portraying Ezri as little more than the doe-eyed, opportunistic charmer that many suspect him of being. A later storyline featuring a community campaign against Aaron feels tacked-on and features some amplified acting at odds with the intricate sensitivity of the rest of the film but if nothing else provides a fresh look at the disturbingly mafia-like structure inherent in some quarters of modern Orthodox Jerusalem, the homophobia inherent in many traditions, the threat of the "modesty police", the absolute power of the (understanding) rabbi. Nevertheless the film's sincerity and incisiveness covers its failings and the startling final scenes linger like the feelings and temptations Aaron's soul just can't veil.
