Rama Burshtein's "Fill the Void'

The beautiful face of actress Hadas Yaron fills the screen throughout much of the remarkable new Hebrew-language film, Fill the Void. It's an open, vulnerable face, full of hope and fear, across which contradictory emotions battle each other like warring armies.

In that respect, Yaron's face is very much like the map of today's Israel, where the film takes place and where conflict rages between old and new ways of religious and secular life.

Fill the Void, the first film from writer-director Rama Burshtein, tells the turbulent coming-of-age story of Shira (Yaron), an 18-year-old Tel Aviv resident who is on the threshold of a young woman's most significant rite of passage in the ultra-Orthodox Hasidic community: from maidenhood to marriage.

But this journey is not taken in freedom— at least not as we know that term in secular society. On the contrary, marriage in Shira's world is a highly controlled, intensely scrutinized ritual. It's negotiated by the family, facilitated by the community (through a matchmaker), and ultimately approved by the rabbi. Personal choice has little if nothing to do with it. And woe to the young woman whose feelings conflict with the flow.

Sidetracked by tragedy

The film's very first scene finds Shira and her mother Rivka in a Tel Aviv supermarket, literally shopping for an eligible husband. It's time for Shira to be married, according to her family, and Rivka is eager to show her daughter a pre-approved prospect, one who happens to be pushing his shopping cart through the frozen food section at that moment.

Though the prospective groom's face is masked by his broad black hat and payos, Shira's fresh young face registers curiosity and even excitement. After all, her older sister, the beautiful Esther, is married and about to deliver her first child. Now it's Shira's turn, and she knows it.

But the shopping expedition is aborted by a tragedy. Shira's beautiful sister Esther dies in childbirth, and in the next scene we see Shira cradling her baby nephew in her arms while her widowed brother-in-law Yochay looks on, dazed with grief.

Pushed and pulled

No time for mourning, though"“ the community is already mobilizing, and inquiries are being made to "fill the void" in this young family and find Yochay a new wife. A young widow with two children from an Orthodox community in Belgium is identified, and plans for the widower and his new son to emigrate are in motion.

But Rivka, Shira's mother and the grandmother of Yochay's son, won't let that happen. She can't lose her grandson as well as her daughter. So Rivka begins to lobby for Yochay, her son-in-law, to marry her younger daughter Shira"“ and that way keep her family intact in Israel.

Soon, everyone gets into the act"“ except, of course, Shira herself. As she is besieged by parents, aunts, friends, religious leaders, the camera remains focused on Shira's bewildered, conflicted face. Meanwhile, everyone offers opinions, pushing and pulling her in every direction.

Courage to decide

The film's revelation lies in watching Shira, as she tries to do her duty and at the same time know her own heart and stand her ground"“ that is, once she finds it. As the pressure mounts, Shira reveals the turbulent feelings of a young woman facing the unknown territory of marriage with absolutely no experience with the opposite sex or expectation of what an intimate relationship entails. Her hopes and longings, as well as her terror and confusion"“ all are expressed, not in words, but in that ingenuous, open face.

The power of this new filmmaker, Rama Burshtein, lies in her ability to see into the soul of her main character while at the same time refraining from judging either Shira or her community. In this effort, Burshtein is aided not only by Yaron's performance but also the compassionate portrayal of her widowed brother-in-law, Yochay (played with grace and restraint by Yiftach Klein). After a few brief moments together, in which only a few essential words are said, Shira finds the clarity and courage to make her own independent choice.

Surprising speaker

Following the screening I attended recently, the producing organization (Martha's Vineyard Hebrew Center) invited a speaker from "Unchained"— an American organization whose members oppose arranged and enforced marriages in Orthodox and other communities around the country. The speaker told her personal story of violent abuse in an arranged marriage and her ultimate escape from the Orthodox community.

While I found her story compelling, I was surprised by the Center's choice for a post-screening discussion. At no point in Fill The Void did I see an expression of rage on the part of Shira or of violence on the part of Yochay (who had been a tender, adoring husband in his first marriage to Shira's sister).

More revealing was the pre-screening introduction to the film, explaining that Rama Burshtein, its writer/director, grew up in Israel as a secular Jew and chose to become Orthodox at the age of 20. Yet her on-screen persona expressed no rebellion toward the Orthodox community that Burshtein had freely chosen to join.

Younger generation's struggle

For me, Fill the Void is not a protest against the practice of arranged marriage in the ultra-Orthodox community. Rather, it celebrates the sanctity of marriage as an institution, both sacred and secular— and the struggle of a younger generation to honor tradition while simultaneously finding a place for individual choice.

Given the flood of commercial films on the market today that depict marriage (aka "relationships") in a superficial, frivolous, trivializing, often demeaning fashion, the respect and insight with which Fill the Void treats its subject matter is both refreshing and illuminating. (This year's French-language film Amour is another rare example).

The challenges and complexities of marriage— as a religious ritual, a social custom, a family obligation and a way of life, as well as a vehicle for personal fulfillment"“ all are touched on in Fill the Void without judgment or comment. Therein lies this film's great integrity and strength"“ in filling the void of meaningful films about marriage.