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| Fill The Void film poster. |
Written by Janyce Denise Glasper
In this summer alone, film wise, I’ve been cordially invited to three weddings– Joss Whedon’s Shakespearean, black and white Much Ado About Nothing, Susanne Bier’s Italian scenic Love Is All You Need, and Rama Burshtein’s ultra-Orthodox Jewish Fill The Void.
Fill The Void was an entirely new cinematic experience, diving into Hebrew language, a culture familiar, but not fully illustrated to my knowledge. We are typically just shown pointed beards and tall hats. Wonderfully enough, a woman—Rama Burshtein, a filmmaker actually living and breathing the ultra-Orthodox sector–crafted this educational picture. She ultimately chooses to adapt her world on the big screen, which is quite brave, and irons out ignorance by showcasing strict and religious rituals taking center stage, but laces humor and integrity throughout, directing perspective from the eyes of Shira, female protagonist.
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| Shira (Hadas Turon) and her mother (Irit Sheleg) play supermarket spy. |
It starts out innocently enough. Shira and her mother sleuth around a supermarket looking for Shira’s intended betrothal match. After a humorous phone call (“He’s in the dairy department!”), they find him and spy from afar. Shira is in wordless awe and is over the moon at witnessing the Miller’s son wipe and blow off spectacles.
“You’ll have to do a lot of washing,” her mother huffs. “Do you not have a tissue?”
That doesn’t hinder Shira’s enchantment over husband-to-be. As she stands and waits for Esther, her older sister, Shira’s demeanor is filled with excited tension. It’s funny how her exasperated body language attempts stoic composure, but joyous facial expression just terrifically shouts, “I want to tell someone!”
“It was strong I want to scream it out,” Shira exclaims.
“Stay calm, first of all,” instructs Esther. “He doesn’t need to know that you feel so strongly…”
The views of women transcend almost every culture–a poised, pious manner is revered and expected and opposition is horrifically demonized. In an old advertising class of mine, we were taught that boys/men were always seen as active and girls/women were meant to be still and decorative. Women must keep docile composure or else males would think her wild and wild equates to carefree and promiscuous–unwanted traits in a wife. In ultra-Orthodox, these terms are a stricter, devout practice.
Interestingly, however, Yochay, Esther’s husband tells Shira that she should “scream to the Lord!”
Shira’s world gets further complicated when Esther suddenly dies during ninth month of pregnancy. It is devastating because their sisterly bond was so sweet and genuine. Yet mourning goes to a whole other level–her sister’s husband is going to move to Belgium with the baby boy much to the horror of Shira’s family. The solution? Shira should marry him.
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| Shira (Hadas Turon) holds the bay with her mother (Irit Sheleg) looking on and Yochay (Yiftach Klein) looking pensive. |
The situation goes from losing a loved one to taking that loved one’s place.
Shira is conflicted, questioning her confusing feelings and her desires. Another devastating milestone gets tossed along tattered path–the Millers have decided against her marrying their son. Shira considers Yochay, due to much pushing from her mother, but Shira continues asking Yochay questions about Esther, which is understandable. She did overhear him drunkenly professing Esther of love prior to childbearing death and it’s only appropriate to feel overshadowed by a sister’s ghost, for knowing that she was his first wife. That alone locks inside her emotions starting to unravel for Yochay, who longs for her to speak plain truth. In moments of solitude and softly spoken prayer, she wants to be brave and follow her heart, but fears of being considered bad stop her.
By the film’s end, visibly nervous with mascara dripping, rocking back and forth praying in rich, huge white wedding gown, Shira alone makes the life changing decision to be a mother to Esther’s child and wife to Esther’s husband.
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| Shira’s mother (Irit Sheleg), Shira (Hadas Yuron), and Shira’s cousin, Frieda (Hela Feldman). |
Other female characters take up a great deal of screen time. It’s refreshing to see women have such power and be more vocal and at times having more authority over men when they are supposed to be seen as still, especially Shira’s mother. She’s the meddlesome figure who constructed the entire idea of Shira marrying Yochay. After seeing Yochay and Shira interacting with the little baby boy, she starts the fireworks, calling the rabbi and getting her husband on board—albeit reluctantly. Frieda, Shira’s cousin, gains the most sympathy. Frieda is always sad, hanging her uncovered head, at every female’s announcement of marriage and everyone gives her the pitying, “You’ll be next in line.” Esther had promised the sorrowful spinster that if anything happened to her, she would prefer Frieda to marry Yochay. Shira attempts to place them together, but for reasons unknown Yochay believes her cruel, but doesn’t even know why he doesn’t want to marry Frieda. Maybe it’s simply because he isn’t quick to compliment her beauty and youthfulness as he does Shira. Thankfully, however, Frieda finally does get married and is everyone’s pity turns to happiness. The unmarried aunt, who covers her head because the rabbi suggested it to stop embarrassing questions, also wants what’s best for Shira. She believes Yochay is too old and that Shira should be with a man her own age, but of course Shira’s mother wants to end their communication quickly.
“Stay away from Shira,” she warns.
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| Yochay (Yiftach Klein) & Shira (Hadas Yuron) become an instant family. |
Overall, Fill The Void is a lovely piece of filmmaking that allows viewers a glimpse into Jewish customs and in a uniquely riveting way that sews in the roles of these women through a woman’s camera lens.
Rama Burshtein addressed reasoning behind creating Fill The Void to the Washington Post:
“I’m a storyteller more than anything, and I realized that we had no cultural voice. Most of the films about the community are done by outsiders and are rooted in conflicts between the religious and the secular,” says Burshtein, 45, mother of four who was born in New York and lives in Israel. “I wanted to tell a deeply human story.”
Fill The Void has been a tremendous feat for Burshtein’s first major screenwriting and directing effort. It swept the Israeli Film Academy Awards and became Israeli’s choice for Best Foreign Film nominee at the 85th Annual Academy Awards. Unfortunately, it didn’t secure a slot in the male-dominated category, losing in the first round, but it’s still laudable that a woman’s artistry and direction is chosen to represent an entire country. Her muted colors, quiet scenes, and modest wardrobe have a soft women’s touch, a poignant clarity that is delicately layered in a meticulous, respectful manner as it opens awareness towards this cloistered society.
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| Fill The Void actress Hadas Yuron (left) with screenwriter/director, Rama Burshtein. |
The performances were wonderful, especially Hadas Yuron, who is an actress I want to keep seeing. She portrays Shira’s plight in such a convincing light, in a brave performance that is both graceful and tender, rendered marvelously well by Burshtein’s compelling direction. A scene could be absent of distracting props and Yuron delivers poetry, a steadfast heart-moving somberness to Burshtein’s remarkable screenplay.
Hopefully, this isn’t the last beautifully articulated lesson Rama Burshtein entails on a place rarely seen outside of war. I cannot wait to see other offerings brewing inside of that incredibly courageous mind of hers.
