Israel filmmaker Rama Burshtein takes a new look at the issue of arranged marriages in her debut feature Lemale et ha’halat (Fill the Void), the story of a young wo-man kindly “pressured” into marrying a widower whose late wife was the young woman’s sister.
Fill the Void takes place amid the closed-community of Orthodox Jews in Tel Aviv, it was made by an Orthodox director, and is targeted at a secular audience. The plot kicks off during the Festival of Purim, when an upper-middle class Hasidic family is faced with the death of 28-year-old Esther after giving birth to a son. After the funeral, Rabbi Aharon (Chaim Sharir), the patriarch of the family, is to collaborate into deciding what his son-in-law, Yochay (Yiftach Klein), must do about his status as a widower. Rivka (Irit Sheleg), Aharon’s wife, comes with a solution: she talks Shira (Hadas Sharon), her 18-year-old daughter, into marrying Yochay and also becoming a good mother to his little boy.
There are quite a few notable traits in Rama Burshtein’s assured debut, chiefly the spontaneity of the performances, a persuasive use of close-ups and the right camera angles to capture the slightest of gestures and glimpses, and an understanding gaze from the inside rather than the usual critique from the outside. It’s very easy to feel you are a privileged witness of every single detail that makes up a complex canvas where feelings and tradition mix, and not without a degree of conflict.
But there are no good guys and bad guys here, nor good woman neither bad women, for that matter. The thing is Shira is not really forced to marry Yochay, but instead obliged to be faithful to her feelings and act accordingly. If she doesn’t marry him, somebody else will. It doesn’t have to be her. But if she can’t tell what she feels and wants? Or if she herself feels obliged even if others allow her to be as free as possible? How easy, or difficult, is it to actually be in contact with your inner self?
So what you have is an examination of how individuals deal with something as crucial as sentimentally devoting yourself to another human being while remaining within the frame of closed-knit community with a set of strict rules. What’s most important is that the viewpoint is actually humanistic instead of dogmatic. Not that it tears down the walls of tradition for that would be impossible. But it understands them in the way insiders do, with their cons. It shows the heart of the matter in all its complexity.
Perhaps what prevents Fill the Void from being more attention-grabbing and involving is that most of the story deals with the overall state of things and it doesn’t develop each singular story as much as it called for. It exposes and sketches them, but it doesn’t follow the many possible emotional ramifications. And at times you may feel too far away from the drama, even if you are close to the big picture.
