I went to the movies today, and I didn’t know what I was seeing. I’d already seen Deadpool 2, and the new Star Wars film Solo, and really I needed to get off the street for a bit. I was biking through Williamsburg and stopped off at Nitehawk Cinema to just go see whatever.
Disobedience was playing. It’s a film about the death of a Rabbi, and the return of his daughter to the Jewish community in London. She had spent ten years in New York as a photographer, totally out of contact, doing art portraits, bar hopping, a secular life if you will.
Without giving so much away, or maybe I should, it’s about trying times and the social obligations that hold communities and families together. The main character returns for shivas, to find out that her childhood friend had married her father’s closest student. It’s a deep and personal look into the workings of an orthodox congregation.
The film opens to the Rabbi giving a sermon asking what is man? On the sixth day, either as an afterthought or crowning achievement, we are somewhere between the angels and beasts, in that we have free will. We are supposed to know what it is that g_d wants. Angels just do, they carry out the will of their creator. Animals simply exist and follow instinct. Man is created from clay and imbued with the breath of life and we are able to navigate complex decisions unlike any other kind of being, why do we make the choices that we do?
The film is also about a love affair and sexuality and loss, but the essence is an issue of what makes us who we are.
I just got home from watching Hondros at Village East Cinemas in New York. It is a documentary about Chris Hondros, a photojournalist who covered conflict zones on the global stage. His work brought him from New York to far flung parts of the world, including Liberia, Iraq, and ultimately Libya where he died while reporting on the revolution that ultimately deposed Muammar Gaddafi.
It was a well made piece, with war correspondents honoring one of their own. He died in 2011, and it was immediately noted by members of his community, some of whom I had been acquainted with on the Black Flag Cafe of comebackalive.com where adventurers rub shoulders with international journalists.
What moved me the most, was not the story of Chris Hondos, but rather as a good journalist it was the stories of the people he met while on assignment that were the most meaningful. One child soldier who he had photographed who had grown up and gotten an education and ultimately become a police chief. Another was the story of a US Army unit and a girl who had been the only member of her family to survive a shootout in Iraq. It is difficult for me to describe, but while we watch the news about wars, now Syria, we forget that there are people there. Not just the belligerents in a given conflict, AK-47s in the dessert, but there are regular people, families, kids who have to live through horrifying circumstances.
Sometimes, once in a while, our worlds meet. It can be through photojournalism, a televised interview, word of mouth. We citizens of the world need to learn to respect each other and work together to find peaceful resolutions to our problems, and we need to know each other’s stories preferably without the eulogies of journalists killed in mortar fire.
I just went to the Angelika Film Center to see the film Nostalgia. It’s about what we leave when we pass away. Some of it is things, the material stuff, your belongings, heirlooms, whatever is of monetary value, sentimental value. Then there is your family that remains; who cleans out your house? What do they take? What is trash?
It begs some difficult questions.