Menashe (2017)

Menashe (2017)

Shmegegge Schlemiel as Mensch

"And Joseph called the name of the firstborn Manasseh, For God, said he, hath made me forget all my toil and all my father’s house." 

-Genesis 41, 51

Gitl: Goodbye. Go in good health.

Bernstein: Goodbye to the boy.

Gitl: May you have a boy of your own one day.

Bernstein: From your mouth to God’s ear. To have a son, a man must have a wife.

Gitl: A wife you can get.

Bernstein: To whom would that I ask? What if she would say no?

Gitl: What if she would say yes? 

- from the film “Hester Street”

American film audiences are unlikely to ever see a dramatic feature film spoken in yiddish, the lingua franca of Jews in pre-war Europe. Over four decades ago “Hester Street”, the story of an immigrant couple on the lower east side of Manhattan, took critics by storm. It was a fascinating glimpse of domestic turmoil brought on by the tension between the mores of the shtetl (village) and the unconstrained ways of the new world. “Menashe” is another story of family strife told in Yiddish with similar themes. “Hester Street” asked what it means to be a good spouse. “Menashe” adds a layer of fatherhood to that query. Imagine the great-great-grandchildren of the first wave of the lower east side refugees facing the stress of adhering to tradition. Unlike their forebears, this generation’s struggle is internecine. It is not a question of being seduced by the new, but managing the old. 

The plot lies around the conundrum of single parent families being verboten in Hasidic Jewish society. Menashe is the widower father of a tween boy. The story follows the power struggle between the son’s successful real estate agent uncle and the proud father, who works as a stock clerk in the local food store. Menashe refuses to remarry which jeopardizes his right to be the guardian of his child. His is warned the son will be taken out of the yeshiva (religious elementary school). This would separate they boy from the community and mark them both as outcasts.  The strength of the film lies in the intimate portrait of a way of life that rebels against the relentless fads and cults of celebrity that dominate American culture. “Menashe" can be seen as a safe harbor from mainstream commercial entertainment offerings, such as the wildly successful “Game of Thrones”. This sci-fi fantasy has just completed it’s breakthrough 7th season with 12 million viewers. One could not imagine a starker contrast. “Menashe” is a low budget feature whose distribution is relegated to art-house movie theaters and cable TV. It features a troubled, frumpy Hasid who lives in cramped, dreary tenement enduring life’s contumely. This is a galaxy far, far away from the flashy, sexy, triumphant heroism of waring kingdoms in a landscape of dragons. Ironically “Menashe’s” simple, primitive ‘slice of life’, holds it’s own in it’s portrayal of another world.  

The origins of the film are similar to Robert Duvall’s paean to Roma society, “Angelo My Love” which was inspired by a chance encounter with a precocious child from that community. The eponymous “Menashe" was born of the lead actor, Menashe Lustig’s own experience of marital discord while living as a Hasid. The director, Joshua Z. Weinstein, adopted a neorealist approach to portraying Borough Park Brooklyn through Lustig’s connections. Many of the cast are people from the neighbor. Mr. Lustig is a professional performer, as is Ruben Niborski, who portrays his son. Their expertise helps guide the amateur co-stars, who rise to the occasion. The film has rough patches. There are awkward pauses and misplayed plot twists, but the authenticity overcomes the odd unfolding of the story. 

The portrayal of Menashe at work is a metaphor for the meandering journey. The essence of his powerlessness, he is a debt ridden grocery clerk, is captured within moments of him kibitzing with his customers. Yet the scene goes on for many minutes…. but….. this isn’t a typical bodega or Korean deli. The young woman is shopping with her 6 (or 7) children… the men, including Maneshe, have strange haircuts, and bizarre clothes. Meashe’s argument with his boss about the lettuce has undertones. The ‘cleanliness' of the vegetables is more than a matter of dirt.  Everything is the same but, very different. The inner city background is recognizable, yet it is inhabited by the unfamiliar. Single parents in most American cities might turn to the internet for dating choices. Manashe’s friends turn to an actual “matchmaker”, a designated person in the community. That persons job’s sole consideration is appropriateness in light of building a family. Period. Love and passion take a backseat to upholding tradition. Life revolves around reading the Torah and following the law as interpreted by the rebbi. Quotes from scripture (Gemara) guide life. When pushing back against the idea of a new wife he is given the aphorism: “a man needs three things - a nice wife, a nice home and nice dishes”. Bowing to pressure Menashe meets a perspective date. This widow, with children, quizzes him on which rebbi he follows? She also states she would NEVER condone a religious leader who sanctioned female automobile drivers.  If that seems foreign consider Menashe's trip to the portrait gallery. Despite his penury, he MUST have an oil painting of a former religious figure for his wife’s one year memorial dinner. The 10 year old son weighs in on which image would be most appropriate.  This film is more than merely a touching family drama. It is an introduction to a world that combines 5,000 year old Middle Eastern tradition, 18th century European fashion and 21st century American economics. 

“Menashe” is a precise examination of the male side the culture. There is strict separation for the sexes, especially on social occasions. Men exclusively gather for a bonfire marking a religious holiday. This moment marks the cinematic highlight of the film, with the smoke, circles and singing. We are witnessing a joyous ritual that pierces the dreary small tenements and rigid way of life. It speaks to a spiritual bond that defies the vacancy of contemporary mainstream culture. The audience has a window into why some men choose to live a life rooted firmly in the past. This fraternity is a part of something ancient and enduring. It is critical to note that this film is about men. The women appear occasionally in the background and their story remains untold. There is one scene in which Menashe asks a neighbor for a recipe for Kugel (casserole) for the memorial. This strong matronly grandmother offers to do the chore herself indicating this is a wife’s job. Menashe refuses and insists on cooking himself. During the discussion they enter the woman’s kitchen. Sitting at a table is a young woman who is in the late stages of pregnancy. She appears completely forlorn in stark contrast to the older woman. One sensed a deep melancholy rooted in the same divide as Menashe’s family struggle. The societal demands cannot be met. Unfortunately both he and the young women know that they must seek solace from people of their own sex. The three of them all stand in the kitchen and pretend that this encounter is simply about seeking a recipe. The loneliness is countered by the fact that, in this community, you are never alone.

The never-ending group gatherings are illustrated in the scene in our hero attends a raucous dinner party. Despite his uncompromising views on re-marriage, he is warmly welcomed in the fold. This sequence also illustrates the film’s shortcoming in presenting a plot driven narrative. Menashe’s son is uncomfortable with his father’s drinking, which culminates in the father accidentally knocking over some china. The loud singing and joyous laughter stops dead as if Menashe pulled the power cable on the party. The son leaves the room to call his father’s nemesis, the uncle, in order to be rescued. On paper, it is believable. Unfortunately, in spite of fine acting by Lustig and Niborski, it is contrived. Ditto for the scene in which Menashe burns the Kugel at his wife’s memorial dinner. In reality this manufactured troupe, designed to highlight Menashe’s incompetence and general bad luck, was unnecessary. In fact it distracted from two central moments within the scene: the son singing in tribute to his mother and the rebbi showing appreciation of his struggle. The elder rebukes the uncle for complaining about the food. This latter gesture might not seem important but in this context of this community the rebbi’s blessing is akin to a nod from above. The director should have realized these moments had enough gravitas WITHOUT the smoke filled apartment. It would have been less opaque, literally, not to be distracted by the needless underlying of Menashe’s shortcomings. This is exhibited again in the sequence where his food delivery falls out of the back of the truck. The action is designed to exhibit the fault, and it shows.  This problem of overemphasis is, once again, exhibited in the dialogue. It only takes one heart to heart with the uncle and the boss to understand their relationships. The repetitive encounters with each were superfluous.  The filmmaker needed more faith in the quieter scenes that show the character’s deficits. Doubling down on exposition, pets dying, fish falling out of the back of trucks weighed down the magic of the small scenes of living life (e.g. praying, working, preparing for bed…) Perhaps an even more atmospheric, less plot driven narrative would have aided in building the bond between father and son. There is an odd feeling of relief in the denouement, rather than tears of separation. 

The critical moment that underpins the saga occurs in a late night drunken encounter with two goyim, non-jews from outside the community. Menashe is invited to join two hispanic stock clerks for an impromptu booze break in the storage area. Our hero is pulling a series of late night shifts and his is alone with his co-workers. They pass the bottle of cheap beer and question the troubled Hasid. The revelation is akin to Laurence Olivier in “Rebecca” spilling the beans on his relationship with his wife. Suddenly all the action is caste in a darker hue. Anger and guilt replace love as the driving force. The beloved father is also a mean-spirited spouse. Alfred Hitchock's film classic is more successful in using the unmasking to build sympathy for the protagonist. Menashe’s truth is, yet another, layer of ambiguity. The uncle’s anger is legitimized. It is the rightful wrath of wronged brother. The guardianship of the child is also put into question. However the mechanics of Menashe’s confession are also problematic. By having the inquiry come from the two co-workers, Menashe becomes reactive. In order to underscore his guilt, Menashe should have initiated the confession. The two outsiders, who have no standing within his community, would have been the perfect audience to unpack his heart. The director missed an opportunity. It is also unfortunate that this is one of the few moments where a full compliment of professional actors might have been more effective. The stock clerks hit their marks but the pivotal scene failed to rise to the occasion. This blemish, however, is merely a mis-step in a fascinating portrait of an over-looked community.

Menashe brings to mind an anti-hero, Igantius J. Reilly, in the classic, “A Confederacy of Dunces”, which tells the tale of a slovenly, intellectual, hot dog vendor in the French Quarter of New Orleans. Igantius gives us a portrait of a very specific, Southern, underclass culture. Menashe opens up the Hassdic Brooklyn enclave. These latter day Don Quixote’s are wonderful foils to highlight universal truths as they do battle with the forces of normalcy. The swashbuckling dragon slayers might draw cheers… but what about the nowhere men? In the opening sequence of “Menashe” we see our anti-hero standing out in the crowd by eschewing the traditional dress and simply wearing his white shirt. The closing of the film shows him in the same streetscape dressed, as all the other men, in a black coat. It is a victory that he alone will savor. Even his few intimate friends and family might see it as simply another quixotic gesture. The audience, however, having born witness to this disjointed journey, will understand that he has come to terms with the death of his wife and the loss of his role as father. It is a strange pyrrhic moment. Hopefully one will see this hapless man, in a strange outfit, in a bizarre neighborhood and think… to quote John Lennon, “Isn’t he a bit like you and me”. You don’t have to be Jewish to know what is kosher.