[rating=8.00]
Film is at its best when it offers something relatable, giving us real characters moving through genuine emotion. Whether it’s the latest blockbuster or the microbudget indie, the truly transcendent entrants into the cinematic lexicon are the ones who make the effort to connect with audiences on a true, one on one level. Accomplish that, and you’ve got the beginnings of something magical.
Menashe is certainly that. A small, intimate film—shot guerilla by veteran documentarian Joshua Z. Weinstein—Menashe accomplishes its emotional connections against hard odds. Filmed almost entirely in Yiddish (save a single, brief scene), the film explores the insular, and often misunderstood, world of Hasidic Judaism in New York City.
Hasidic Jews aren’t often given a fair shake in wide culture; the nature of their religion often keeps them self-segregated in tight knit communities without much contact the non-secular world. Too often, the misunderstood community is reduced to stereotypes and jokes. Menashe lifts the veil on their world to present a tale of life’s beauty, even if that beauty is sometimes covered in warts.
The film follows the titular character of Menashe (played by Menashe Lustig), a down-on-his-luck widower trying to put his life back together approaching the one-year anniversary of his wife’s death. His blue collar job at a local grocery store keeps him overworked and underpaid, to the dismay of his brother-in-law, Eizik (Yoel Weisshaus), who has agreed to raise Menashe’s son Rieven (Ruben Niborski) at the behest of their rabbi. According to Talmudic law, a child must be raised in a home with two parents, and if Rieven is to stay in his school, then Menashe must find a new wife, which means getting his life on track.
Weinstein (who wrote the film in addition to directing) has crafted a moving film of powerful humanism, touching gracefully on universal themes that resonate with the collective heart. It would be reductive to call the film’s protagonist a loser; his in-laws may view him as such, and he may not garner much respect from his manager at the grocery store, or rabbi, but most importantly he’s just a regular guy, caught in a vicious cycle of life on the downswing.
Call it “situational loserdom.” We all know—or have possibly been—people in situations similar to that of Menashe. Lucky breaks don’t break all that often, and the tides of bad luck tend to stay high for long times, even—perhaps especially—for good people. Lustig’s performance beautifully captures the frustrating spiral of blue collar existence. His best intentions often disintegrate before our eyes, and Lustig manages to convey the existential sadness of a man who can’t quite get himself out of his rut.
Utilizing Yiddish, Weinstein and his cast achieve the remarkable effect of first building a wall between their audience and subject, and then tearing it town one brick at a time. With each layer of the wall that is removed, a layer of shared humanity is revealed, until it no longer matters how outside of the culture you feel from the characters and their story. Menashe transcends its language and its characters, letting us bask in the raw emotion of Menashe’s life and situation. By the end, it doesn’t matter how much you do or don’t know about Hasidism.
Behind language and ism lies only people, a powerful reminder for which comes when Menashe shares a beer with two of his Hispanic co-workers at the grocery store (the film’s sole English speaking moment). No matter our culture or our backgrounds, at the end of the day we’re all just looking for a reason to smile.
Menashe certainly gives you plenty to smile about, tucked though they are between moments of sadness and pain. But that’s life, I guess. The good times and the bad often spring from the same source, and choosing one or the other lessens the overall experiences of life. Ultimately, pain and joy is the sum total of the human condition, and that’s what’s captured here.
Menashe is now playing in select theaters.
