A film review by Kung Fu Jew for jewschool.com on Dec. 12, 2016.
There is a scene late in Harmonia in which the overbearing conductor of the Jerusalem Philharmonic Orchestra exhorts his young son to play his violin in a manner somewhere between restraint and outburst, between order and chaos. The conductor is Abraham, his son is Isaac, and the tension he describes permeates the entire film. It is Isaac who embodies safety and restraint, and his half-brother Ben, a.k.a. Ismail, who seems dangerous and out of control.
If
you’ve already guessed, based on the character names, that the film is Biblical
allegory, you’d be right. Abraham (Alon Moni
Aboutboul) is married to Sarah (Tali
Sharon), who plays first chair harp in the orchestra he conducts and seems
unable to have children. They accept third chair horn player Hagar’s (Yana Yossef) offer to conceive a child
for them with Abraham. They name the baby Ben, but eventually he will be called
Ismail.
At
this point, if you’re following along in Genesis,
you know Isaac will be born about a decade later, when Sarah is past typical
child-bearing age. And the film makes sure you are following along in Genesis because from the opening scenes
the action is intercut with quotes from the relevant chapters. But if you also
guessed, based on this description, that this film is a little too pat, that’s
where you’d be wrong. I admit I had this fear early on in the film. A character
was introduced, and then a verse from Genesis
would tell me about the character.
But
it does not take long to see that writer-director Ori Sivan has given us a retelling of Abraham and Sarah’s saga that
is far from simplistic. His version is surreal, constantly unsettling, and marries
some of the darker elements of the story with a gothic horror sensibility.
There is a general sense of unease punctuated by hard edges throughout – abrupt
edits, creepy set decor, lurid colors, and extreme close-ups of bone-chilling
stares. Because of this, when deeply loving feelings finally burst onscreen
after all of that icy buildup, the warmth is so palpable that you feel as
though the film itself may melt.
In
transferring the story to modern-day Israel, Sivan wisely infuses the melodrama
with the larger societal tensions plaguing Israel today. Ben-cum-Ismail is an
outsider in Sarah and Abraham’s household, and his character’s alienation
embodies that of Palestinian communities in Jerusalem. His biological mother,
Hagar, is from East Jerusalem, and she is shown early on speaking Arabic with
her father. The half-Arab child she gives birth to is then raised in an
affluent Jewish Israeli household, and while this is not the ostensible reason
for his discomfort, the symbolism of it cannot be missed. At the same time, it
never feels heavy-handed.
Perhaps
the greatest strength of this film is its use of music to communicate the
feelings and personalities of the different characters. Each plays a different
instrument, with Abraham’s instrument being the entire orchestra itself
(including Sarah and Hagar). Music is crucial to every aspect of the story, and
Sivan handles it expertly. A glance at his résumé explains why: In 2001, he
directed a documentary about Klari Sarvash, the very first harpist in the
Israel Philharmonic Orchestra, and in 2010, he filmed an intimate documentary
portrayal of that same orchestra’s great maestro, conductor Zubin Mehta. His
detailed knowledge of music and the orchestral world enriches the narrative,
and nowhere is this more prominent than in his use of Rimsky-Korsakov’s
symphonic suite Scheherazade to carry
the theme of Arab identity subtly throughout the entire film. This is
especially fitting given that Scheherazade
is also a rather loose adaptation of its source material, One Thousand and One Nights. Rimsky-Korsakov called it a kaleidoscope of fairy tale images,
from One Thousand and One Nights, and
Harmonia bears a very similar
relationship to the Book of Genesis.
The
use of music goes beyond the specific pieces the characters play. It is the way
they play them that gives the musical interactions here real suspense. Those
with a deeper knowledge of music than I have will probably have a deeper
experience of the film, but even with my extremely limited knowledge of
classical music, I found myself holding my breath in anticipation of how a
character would play a line of music. In music, as in life, you want to hit the
right note somewhere between sensible restraint and passionate chaos.
Supporting Cast: Daod (Hagar’s father) Ali Suliman;
Ben (12-14 yrs) Itai Shcherback; Isaac
(12-14 yrs) Tamir Tavor; Ismail (25
yrs) Liron Amram.
Labels: drama
IMDb 73/100
RottenTomatoes Averages (critics=tbd, viewers=tbd)
Film Movement
Film Review
Biblical characters
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