|How cute are they?|
Australian writer, editor, and Bell Biv Davoe enthusiast Laurie Steed was the first classmate I met during the 2012 three-week. When I mentioned I was interested in Israeli film, he told me he wanted to see Jellyfish. I was, of course, aware of this Camera-d'Or-snagging picture, but my attitude was one of getting around to it, like, when I got around to it. But when I was in Four Star Video Heaven on Friday afternoon, it was calling to me from its shelf.
I decided to watch this movie because Keren Yedaya's Jaffa seemed a little, I don't know, קשה for a Friday night. Oy! I didn't know what I was in for. Obviously. I've remarked in the past few months that films didn't make me cry, but rather books did. I thought of having said this as tears started stinging my eyes as I watched Jellyfish.
The power of this film is in its female relationships. Admittedly, this is kind of a real big duh because there are three female protagonists in Jellyfish. I felt tenderly toward wedding reception waitress Batya, who experienced a generalized existential dislocation and inertia, and especially related to the way her childhood memories of abandonment bore upon her there's-no-there-there relationship with her parents. And for me, the scene between Galia the actress and her mother was pivotal. As I cried, making this sharp, inhaling sound I don't recall ever having made, I thought, This is a film speaking to and for Xers and women. I wonder what the directors, especially Geffen, would say about that.
I'll be thinking about Jellyfish, especially the metaphor of the mute girl who comes from the sea, in the future. Overall, it was sad and beautiful. (So, you gotta see it, mate.)