176
PARTISAN REVIEW
live with? One way of doing so is by going to see a few foreign films.
The recent Jewish movie festival presented some examples. I went to
the previews not expecting much, but curious, wondering whether [
would behold yet another version of
Schindler's List
or Nazi death
camps, a nostalgic vista of Jewish ghetto or post-ghetto life , or a prop
to Jewish pride. Instead, I saw four productions by German, Russian , and
Swedish filmmakers, every one of them in its own way breaking through
the customary conventions - thereby making me think of what I kn ew
in a different way, sometimes causing me exceeding discomfort. Each of
these films was not pointing to but indirectly was depicting the com–
plexities ofJewish life which, like that of all other ethnic groups, has be–
come intrinsically interwoven with its environment.
Of course, the fact that the action takes place in unfamiliar territo–
ries, in Russia, Israel, and Sweden, might be perceived as providing the
distance one needs to experience old themes in new ways. However, at
least some of the themes, the romantic adventures of two friends , in
Love,
and the celebration of the sixtieth birthday of a Jewish mother in
Stockholm, in
Freud Leaving Home,
could be set anywhere.
In the brochure,
Comrade Stalin's Trip to Africa
is described as an
"absurdist comedy [of] a Georgian Jewish factory worker suddenly find–
ing himself chosen by the KGB to stand in for Stalin, who is tired of
spending hours on his feet in Red Square." Yes, it amuses to watch the
KGB
aparatchniks
find, and explain away, that the most perfect double
for Stalin is Jewish, to watch how proud this double is to be taken for
Stalin, and so on. But in the process, one gets a glimpse of the out–
landishly primitive bottle factory he had been working in, of the dilapi–
dated abandoned mansion where he is being groomed, and of the ex–
pendability of human life, especially Jewish life. In 1991, a Russian film–
maker finally was able to show, with irony, the misery and repression
during seventy-two years of Communist rule. Why, I ask myself, don't
mainstream American filmmakers depict these harsh truths? Is it because
they expect their viewers not to be attracted to them, or because they
think that Americans (and increasing numbers of Europeans) want only
to be entertained?
Love
starts out as entertainment, with two nineteen-year-old pals -
the worldly Vadim and the virgin Sasha - looking for sex. But whereas
Vadim soon gets married and even sooner is bored by his easy bourgeois
life, Sasha falls in love with a young Jewish woman, Masha, and then ac–
tively gets caught up in the family's drama. As this working-class boy
learns about the vicissitudes of Jewish existence, and finally understands
that Masha must emigrate to Israel with her family, he is devastated.
