The Dybbuk is the number-one classic of Jewish theater. It's a tragedy in which a solemn betrothal of children is ignored and when the children are grown the force of the injustice drives the boy beyond the grave and back in order to possess the body of his intended bride. You can't blame a moviemaker for being possessed by the story and wanting to film a modern version. But this film hasn't solved the problem of modernization. For one thing, it takes place almost entirely in gloomy indoor settings with little to remind us of the modernity except an intrusively 20th-century soundtrack and some references to backpacking in India. They break the aura of ancientness without substituting anything of value. For another thing, the movie can't resist the temptation to try to equitably balance its Romeo and Juliet rather than concentrating on the story of the male lead; but the original play doesn't offer much to the female lead before her big exorcism scene, and again the movie has nothing of value to offer to justify the departure from the original (unless it's the actress's breasts). When the exorcism scene finally does come, Ayelet Zurer-- a fine actress-- has her performance turned into a montage of quick cuts that don't build into much.
Like Ayelet Zurer, the other actors are among Israel's best and they seem to take their roles in this classic very seriously, subordinating themselves smoothly to the story. An exception is Moshe Ivgy, who is cast too old and doesn't seem to know exactly what to do about it. His character, the aged rabbi, also has the disadvantage of being flanked by an assistant borrowed straight from an old Frankenstein movie.
In the Israeli theaters, I believe this movie had no legs at all. Oddly, though, the song that accompanies the closing credits turned into a staple of popular Israeli music, far better known than the film it came from.
Like Ayelet Zurer, the other actors are among Israel's best and they seem to take their roles in this classic very seriously, subordinating themselves smoothly to the story. An exception is Moshe Ivgy, who is cast too old and doesn't seem to know exactly what to do about it. His character, the aged rabbi, also has the disadvantage of being flanked by an assistant borrowed straight from an old Frankenstein movie.
In the Israeli theaters, I believe this movie had no legs at all. Oddly, though, the song that accompanies the closing credits turned into a staple of popular Israeli music, far better known than the film it came from.
