Congregation Tifereth Jacob
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It is time that we American Jewish liberals who have been left leaning about our politics regarding Israel begin to review the support we give to the organizations that have
been leading us.
They are proving themselves obsolete, outdated and out-of-touch. Since the beginning of the intifada they have been making mistakes. But a week ago Tuesday night I believe they committed public suicide at a Town Hall meeting at Westside JCC sponsored by Americans for Peace Now and Brit Tzedek V’Shalom.
At a time when the vast majority of Israelis and Diaspora Jews are united about supporting Israeli actions in Lebanon, the two organizations believed they were assuming a courageous left voice manifesting Jewish values as they echoed the critics’ disproportionate force argument. Then they moved on to call for a truce. Next, they suggested that we begin a Jewish fund for the Lebanese victims of Israeli bombings. This creative proposal received much head nodding followed by a promise of initial funding from a member of the audience.
A former American born Knesset member who now lives in San Francisco, droned on in academic monotone for nearly half an hour, presenting future disastrous scenarios that are certain to result from Israel’s present actions.
Through lamentations more profound than reciting Echa on Tisha B’Av, the two organizations innocently forgot to delve into the real threats of the Syria/Iran axis; the difference between the war in Lebanon and the one in Gaza; Hezbollah’s aim to destroy Israel; the kidnapping of IDF soldiers on sovereign Israeli soil; the unprovoked attacks on Haifa as well as cities, towns and settlements throughout the North; Israel’s unilateral moves to hand back Southern Lebanon and Gaza; and a host of other insignificant events and actions.
As a former board member of both local and national Americans for Peace Now, an organization that at one time defined my heart, my soul and my passionate cause, I can no longer support the organization. When the last intifada began, I suggested to its leaders in Israel that perhaps the Peace Now’s logic had been flawed. They always claimed and we enthusiastically supported their belief that their dialogues between Jews and Arabs and the relationships that resulted were to be the pylons that held up the bridges if there was ever too much weight upon them. “Well,” I remember saying, “those bridges have collapsed and the pylons became insignificant as braces.” They were horrified at my blasphemous thinking.
Yet, for me that realization was the beginning of a journey away from those with whom I had traveled the deep and challenging roads of liberal Israeli politics for over 25 years. I no longer believed that there were real negotiating partners. Through work I had done for the Ford Foundation in Israel, meeting both their Jewish and Arab grantees, I realized that while the Jews talked of creating peace, the Palestinians talked of establishing a state.
For Jews, creating peace and establishing a Palestinian state, was one and the same. The Palestinians I interviewed never talked about peace. For them establishing their state was not in the same breath as creating peace. Further, there was not one Arab, when I asked him or her about suicide bombers, who could ever outright condemn the action. But they could all tell me, “You need to understand why this happens.”
So now, does this mean I am no longer liberal/left? Regarding Israeli politics, I don’t know what those labels mean today. Given current realities, do they have any relevance?
The entire Israeli political spectrum and the ways American Jews demonstrate their support is redefining itself. It would be best right now if along with action, we study and watch the situation, so we can reform, regroup and rethink what the thinking and the infrastructures should be. If we hold on to old knee-jerk reactions and the way everything has been, we will be left totally ineffective.
Americans for Peace Now and Brit Tzedek V’Shalom have to stop what they are now doing and be part of this redefinition. Until they do the hard work of critical thinking and ask themselves the unsettling questions that may possibly crumble cracked foundations upon which they stand, they will be like the Pied Piper leading their liberal/left children into the drowning sea.
Gary Wexler is the founder and president of L.A.-based Passion Marketing and a former board member of the local and Americans for Peace Now,
Left-Leaning Jewish Groups Out-of-Touch Now Read More »
“What a bunch of shleppers,” my father remarks, his head doing a 180-degree pan as he takes in the view. “Not one of them has anything unique to say. Such
conformists. Just looking at them makes me nauseous.”
I turn to look, so that I, too, can take in the same view. Yes, we’re at the cemetery, looking at a hillside dotted with graves marked with headstones. It’s a quiet, pastoral setting. No one is saying much, except my father, who as usual can’t — or won’t — stop talking. This particular rant has been a perennial, ongoing drama in my family’s life, ever since my mother died.
It’s been two years this week since my mother, Betty Switkes, died, and we still haven’t had the unveiling. Jewish custom dictates that you unveil the headstone a year after the person dies, but my father has not found the right stone or the right words to inscribe on that stone, so she rests in this unmarked grave. People who pass by this spot might suspect the person buried here is a forgotten soul, but nothing could be further from the truth. She is the focus of his obsession.
He explains to me and anyone else who cares to listen: “The stone should tell the world what a unique person she was. Not just her name and her dates, but it should say something about her.”
“How about beloved wife and mother?” I offer.
“No! Every headstone says that. Look around you. Beloved wife and mother. Beloved wife and mother. Dime a dozen. Not at all unique.”
“She was uniquely your wife and my mother.”
“You don’t understand what I’m trying to do,” he stresses.
Actually I do. He doesn’t want to say goodbye. Once we have the unveiling, then what? As long as he can put this final ritual on hold, he can postpone that final farewell.
“When Betty died, half of me died,” he says.
He talks about her: “She did so much with her life. We threw the best parties. She was the greatest hostess. And her charity work. Always volunteering, always helping someone. And her exercise. She was a pioneer. She developed special exercises for the elderly. Seniorcize. I want to put all that on her headstone. So people know who they are dealing with.”
Note the present tense.
“Do you really want the headstone to look like a resume?” I ask. “Besides, everyone who knew her knows what she accomplished. And everyone who didn’t know her never will.”
He doesn’t hear me.
My father has decided on a double headstone, and that makes sense. They shared a bed for 56 years, so they should share a grave.
But that further complicates the problem of finding the appropriate inscription. If there’s a unique inscription on my mother’s side of the stone, then there must be a comparable inscription on my father’s side. It has to be balanced. Maybe the inscription should be about their life together.
“Write one inscription that applies to both of you. Perhaps something about your marriage,” I offer.
His face lights up. I suggest: “I am my beloved’s and my beloved is mine.”
He rejects it: “Absolutely not. That’s on every ketubbah ever written. C’mon. Think outside the box.”
Here we come to the crux of the problem. Joe Switkes is loud, fun and eccentric. He’s brilliant, expressive and totally unreasonable, a man of action, bold action. And death is the state that has no verb. Talk about irreconcilable differences.
He’s thinking about their marriage and fondly recalls the days they spent at Venice Beach, playing in the sand with their granddaughter.
How about, “We’d rather be in Venice,” I offer.
He laughs.
“That’s good. It takes it away from all this depressing stuff you see around here. I want our headstone to be unique and fun,” he explains.
But then I have second thoughts. When I’m looking at my parents’ grave, I don’t want fun.
He takes another stab at it. How about, “Betty was beautiful and caring, and Joe was smart and humorous.”
I say, “Dad, don’t clutter up the headstone with a lot of adjectives, it’ll read like a profile on JDate.”
He comes back with, “Together they lived a life that was a joy, an adventure and lots of laughs.”
I don’t think so. “Keep it dignified and sparse. Think poetry, not prose.”
Valiantly, the whole family pitches in, making suggestions. My husband suggests, “Beauty and the Beast.” Mom was like Belle – beautiful, well read and independent. Dad is like the Beast, a true prince with a heart of gold, but one must first deal with his hideous temper.
We all howl with laughter. It seems perfect, but then Dad has second thoughts. Beauty and the Beast strikes him as juvenile, and he’s not convinced that all of their friends will “get it.”
I turn to Ecclesiastes and read this beautiful passage:
theellenloop@hotmail.com.
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At 15, director Susan Seidelman set her alarm for 2 a.m., and sneaked out her bedroom window to party. At her suburban Philadelphia high school, she was suspended more than once for wearing oh-so-short miniskirts.
At her Reform synagogue, she and her pals ditched confirmation class for socials in a rough part of town.
“We’d dance like crazy for two hours but return in time for carpool,” the quirky, affable filmmaker said from her Manhattan home.
No wonder Seidelman grew up to direct rebellious punk classics such as “Desperately Seeking Susan” as well as the pilot and early episodes of HBO’s taboo-busting “Sex and the City.”
“Boynton Beach Club,” opening Friday, seems an unexpected turn for a filmmaker best known as a chronicler of hip 1980s youth culture. The comedy-drama revolves around a grieving Jewish widower, Jack Goodman (Len Cariou), who experiences a personal and sexual awakening in his Florida retirement community, where he encounters singles preoccupied with “early bird specials, sex [and] sex after early bird specials,” as Fort Lauderdale’s Sun-Sentinel said.
Goodman gets his share of both as one of few males in this demographic. (Women show up on his doorstep with casseroles or bang on his car window to ask him out). So why did the edgy filmmaker, now 53, spend years scraping together the funding for this movie about 60- and 70-somethings?
“Part of me is a nice Jewish suburban girl, but the other part is a free-spirited nonconformist who wants to perpetually reinvent myself,” she says.All her characters also reinvent themselves, from “Susan’s” bored Jewish housewife-turned-bohemian to “Boynton’s” reserved widower-turned-ladies’ man.
Seidelman’s new movie marks what is perhaps her most dramatic transformation — from wild-child to good girl — at least for those familiar with her early work. She closely collaborated with her mother, Florence, on “Boynton,” avidly listening when mom suggested the story several years ago. Seidelman’s now 75-year-old mother proposed a film loosely based on her shy widower friend, David Cramer, who became extroverted after he joined bereavement groups run by Alpert Jewish Family & Children’s Service in Florida. Florence was tickled by his descriptions of senior dating rituals: For example, the phrase “I can drive at night” was a major turn-on in personal ads, and women handed men their “card” as a demure way of offering their phone number. (Cramer, now 79, received stacks of such cards: “I felt like a teenager,” he told The Journal.)
The filmmaker was so taken with the idea that she suggested mom buy a screenwriting book and write a first draft of the movie. While the director ultimately re-wrote the script with a partner, she made her mother a producer and harmoniously lived with her during the Florida shoot. Seidelman says that as she has aged, so have her characters (note the 30- and 40-somethings in her 1989 film, “She-Devil,” and TV’s “Sex and the City.”) Her punk heroines would now be in their 50s, perhaps seeking sex with their early bird specials at this very moment. And if Seidelman’s 1980s movies have become somewhat iconic, she’s hoping “Boynton” will, too — at least by joining the smattering of recent films (think “Something’s Gotta Give”) that depict seniors in bed.
Seidelman says most producers reacted “with horror” when she pitched “Boynton,” perceiving the over-50 set to be commercially unviable (despite the fact that they’ve bought more than 20 percent of movie tickets since 2001, according to the Motion Picture Association of America).
“So I think my latest film is, in its own way, as subversive as the others,” Seidelman says.
Rebellion, whether subtle or overt, has always been in the filmmaker’s blood. Her mother, Florence Seidelman, recalls that while the young Susan was popular and creative, she simply couldn’t be trusted.
“I knew she could tell a good story, because she told so many to me,” Florence says with a laugh.
When Susan was 19, she was supposed to spend just the summer abroad, but finagled a longer stay when she phoned her mother from Israel. “She said, ‘I’m spoiled, so the [kibbutz] life would be good for me. And as Jewish girl, I should get closer to my roots,'” her mother recalls.
Mom promptly sent more money — only to learn that Susan had traveled to Turkey and that she would not return home until December.
It’s a hustle one might have expected of one of the director’s early protagonists, who were inspired by people she met while attending Ramones concerts, in tight black spandex and observing the East Village arts scene. After her 1982 debut feature, “Smithereens,” made it to competition at Cannes, she received offers to direct “lots of dopey Hollywood teen films, but declined everything until she read “Desperately Seeking Susan” around 1984.
At the time, she says, she was desperately seeking her own inner Susan, confused about her direction and identity as an artist. The story’s fictional Roberta Glass (Rosanna Arquette) gets knocked on the head, develops amnesia and adopts the persona of a bohemian hustler played by Madonna.
Seidelman underwent her own hard knocks when “She-Devil” fizzled at the box office and her film career flagged for a time. Fifteen years later, potential buyers snubbed “Boynton.” Rather than give up, the scrappy director decided to market the movie herself in heavily senior neighborhoods; as she called newspapers to place ads, her mother handed out flyers and plastered delis with posters, the Hollywood Reporter said. Festival screenings in cities such as Sarasota, Fla. and Palm Springs ensued, along with mostly good reviews. When the comedy outgrossed blockbusters at a Florida mall, distributors came around and bought the film, Seidelman says. So was the director rebellious while living in her parents’ Florida vacation home during production?
“My mother sometimes had to tell me to make my bed,” the director recalls. “But she actually asked me to leave the house one weekend because my presence was interfering with her sex life.”
The movie opens Friday in theaters.
Edgy 80’s Director Takes A Walk on the Mild Side Read More »
“I wanted the movie to be a catharsis,” says Andrea Berloff, the screenwriter of “World Trade Center,” the Oliver Stone-directed docudrama that opens Aug. 9. “I’ve felt that way from the beginning.”
The film is a surprising coup for the young writer, a soft-spoken graduate of Cornell’s Drama School, who has never before had a script produced. The famously headstrong director of “Platoon,” “JFK” and, most recently, “Alexander,” told Berloff he would shoot the film faithfully to her script – an almost unheard-of tribute in an industry where multiple rewrites are customary.
If having her script produced is a coup for Berloff, the completed film is likely to be greeted with hailstorms of discourse, not least because it seems the current spate of 9/11 movies is a reminder that films have become a primary way for Americans to digest difficult and painful events.
For many, particularly New Yorkers, the wounds of Sept. 11 have scarcely closed. Will the film be received as an homage to the dead, the survivors and their rescuers, as Berloff says she intended or as a flag-waving disaster flick?
Even more problematic are the politics of interpretation surrounding the Al Qaeda attacks on the World Trade Center’s Twin Towers and the Pentagon. Sept. 11 has been appropriated, in part, by the Bush administration as rationale for pre-emptive wars in Afghanistan and Iraq. Meanwhile, some left-leaning observers like Noam Chomsky have named the attacks as the inevitable comeuppance for what they describe as America’s bad behavior in foreign places.
Given the politically polarizing nature of her material, “the fact that the studio made this movie at all is remarkable,” Berloff says, adding, “It is rare that you can do something with this kind of meaning” in the world of commercial film.
For her part, Berloff does not look like a person braced for controversy and criticism. An attractive woman with pale eyes and auburn hair falling nearly to her shoulders, she is quiet, focused and poised. But is she prepared for flak from both the left and right?
She seems to shrug off the question.
“Actually, most of the responses I have gotten so far have been overwhelmingly positive,” she says, neither defensive nor arrogant.
I suggest that the character of Dave Karnes, a real-life former marine who assisted in the rescue of several trapped policemen, seems to personify the militaristic mood that followed the attacks.
Karnes (played by Michael Shannon) says at various points, “You may not realize it yet, but we’re at war,” later mentioning that the attacks need to be “avenged.”
Berloff replies calmly that Karnes, ideological or not, is a real person who played a pivotal role in the real-life rescue of Port Authority Policemen John McLoughlin (Nicholas Cage) and Will Jimeno (Michael Pena). At the same time, “people find that character very polarizing,” she acknowledges, without saying more.
If Berloff seems reluctant to jump into the politics of 9/11, it may be because she views the film as essentially nonpolitical.
“If there is any political issue that all Americans can get behind, it is idea that Sept. 11 brought out the goodness in people,” she says. “That’s what impressed me most at the time.”
The story Berloff wants to tell, she says, is of ordinary people and their families caught in extraordinary circumstances, both as victims and rescuers. The response to crisis is human goodness, generosity and, in some cases, heroism, she continues. Berloff undertook thorough research, interviewing many survivors.
At the same time, Berloff allowed herself certain poetic insertions. She gives Karnes one of the most striking lines in the movie, delivered as he arrives at the smoldering site of ground zero: “Maybe the smoke is hiding something we’re not ready to see.”
Although the film has its share of crowd scenes and mayhem, Berloff’s approach to the script was not to write about mass emotions but to focus on two characters trapped in the rubble of the collapsed towers.
“Once I decided just to focus on those two characters and their families, that’s when I knew I had found the way to tell the story,” she explains.
Berloff’s respect for research led her to make contact with several World Trade Center survivors and their families. Striving for the greatest possible accuracy in the portrayal of events, she transcribed more than 1,000 pages of notes from her interviews with former officers Jimeno and McLoughlin.
“I met the guys and their wives, who were so kind and who had had such a tough run in their lives,” she says. “I felt this enormous responsibility to do right by them.”
The responsibility she felt was so great, in fact, that she found it “paralyzing” for several months in the course of writing.
One part of the script she found personally challenging deals with religion and prayer. At one point, believing himself at the point of death, McLoughlin says the “Lord’s Prayer,” very much the way a pious Jew would say “Shema.” In another scene, Jimeno sees an image of Jesus beckoning him to heaven.
The characters’ beliefs are “so uncynical, and their love for their fellow man is really genuine,” she says, “it made me feel open-minded and open-hearted.” At the same time, she says, “To think of this Jewish girl writing this ‘Christian’ movie is really funny.”
Berloff’s biography is the trajectory of a young actress into a writer. Raised in Framingham, Mass., a suburb of Boston, she majored in drama in college, subsequently moving to New York to pursue an acting career.
After getting some roles in New York, she and her husband later moved to Hollywood. Berloff says she grew disenchanted with acting, however.
“If it’s all about who’s the most skinny and who’s the most cute, I don’t want to do it, because I’m never going to be that,” she says in a tone of disgust.
She responds warmly to a suggestion that “World Trade Center” is ultimately about family. Married, with a 7-month-old child, perhaps she has been thinking about family recently. Or perhaps, family is her chosen theme, as it has been for many writers.
“The family is central to everyone,” she says. “There is no more complicated relationship in life than that with your family,” she adds. “It’s your primary experience in life.”
She is currently working on a different kind of family drama concerning the mutual backstabbing of the Gucci fashion family of Italy for director Ridley Scott.
“It’s the high drama of a family whose members destroy one another,” she says.
Despite working on a script about mutual betrayal, Berloff herself retains the idealistic tone of “World Trade Center.”
“As horrible as it was, it was a day of love when we took care of each other,” she says. “To include that goodness as part of the oral history of Sept. 11 is important,” she adds.
“It might be idealistic,” she reflects, “but I would like to live in that world.”
‘World Trade Center’ Writer Views Film as Catharsis Read More »