Or shoulders a lot: she's 17 or 18, a student, works evenings at a restaurant, recycles cans and bottles for cash, and tries to keep her mother Ruthie from returning to streetwalking in Tel... See full summary »
Or shoulders a lot: she's 17 or 18, a student, works evenings at a restaurant, recycles cans and bottles for cash, and tries to keep her mother Ruthie from returning to streetwalking in Tel Aviv. Ruthie calls Or "my treasure," but Ruthie is a burden. She's just out of hospital, weak, and Or has found her a job as a house cleaner. The call of the quick money on the street is tough for Ruthie to ignore. Or's emotions roil further when the mother of the youth she's in love with comes to the flat to warn her off. With love fading and Ruthie perhaps beyond help, Or's choices narrow. Written by
Or adeptly portrays the subjugation of both men and women to a misogynist culture, exposing the entrapment of violation and the many marks it leaves on women's bodies, the compulsion to move toward further violence, and men's complicity in this degradation of the body -- their own and women's. An heir to the works of important feminist thinkers (Andrea Dworkin, Susan Griffin, Adrienne Rich), this film pulls the viewer gently into an unabsorbable tirade and presents the question of the futility of human relations. Suffocating and bleak, set against an otherwise fairly banal landscape (and herein lies its strength), it doesn't shirk from exposing the underlay of the socially sanctioned pathology of male sexuality. In its insistent questioning, the film takes the viewer deep into the unresolvable, avoiding easy answers. The problem presented is devastating and Yedaya commits the viewer to sitting with their own unease, to touch, as it were, the very body of the film and face their own complicity in this unpardonable scheme.
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