An embraced recourse to traditional Judaism that surfaced in the eighteenth century, Hasidism grew in popularity as it mystically concerned itself with self-preservation apart from secular society. While its following experienced a steep decline during the 19th century, the Hasidic lifestyle birthed large communities in Israel and New York, which takes us to a man who bears universal pain independent from the confining implications of religion — the separation from his child.
As A24’s first foreign language film (Yiddish), the semi-biographical “Menashe” follows its titular father-figure through the pain of losing custody of his child due to Hasidic practice. Menashe Lustig, a Hasidic Jew from New York City whose wife died a year ago, is forced by his community to relinquish his son (Ruben Niborski) to his brother-in-law (Yoel Weisshaus). To retain custody, Menashe must remarry and display father-like competency according to Hasidic descriptors. Consequently, Menashe is forced between a rock and a hard place as he desires to parent his child once again, yet does not want to rush into an unwanted marriage.
Unfortunately, when people see a Hasidic guy like Menashe, he is squeezed into a preconceived mold of how a Hasidic Jew should look or act. Needless to say, Menashe is not the common, practicing Hasidic Jew. He is instead, a slight rebel residing on the outskirts of a culture that pushes against the grain of secularism. Menashe is an impassionately complex human wrestling with an unfortunate hand that life has dealt him. He battles the austere doctrine of his faith and religious traditions but is pierced with a pain that transcends any religion or culture.
Even though the events depicted in this film are fictional, its docu-style approach possesses an honest and emotional arc that drives “Menashe” home with an earnest heart. While the story of Menashe is a genuine and alluring one to take in, audiences may find themselves more compelled by elements separate from the film’s narrative; the solemn texture, the grief-stricken faces, the sobering moments of father-son bonding and the overall sentimental subtleties that bring director Joshua Z. Weinstein humbling success in his pensive, non-documentary debut.
One scene that really shook my core involved Menashe drinking on the job alongside his co workers during a gruelling night shift. Menashe is at a despondent impasse and admits to them that he felt some relief over his wife’s passing. As these words escaped Menashe’s mouth, his image built upon complete passion and fatherly love became capsized. Although hearing his straightforward sentiment is a hard pill to swallow, it oddly pins him under a humanizing light. Nevertheless, it is impossible to not connect with Menashe’s pain on some level.
Playing the role as himself, Menashe Ludwig’s performance floods the screen with distress but governs it with enough grace, while perfectly balancing anguish for when his son is absent, and elation for when he is present. Aside from missing his child, Menashe breaks his back for an unappreciative boss and faces a barrage of disdain from his abhorrent brother-in-law. It is incredible that Menashe is able to find solace in anything considering how his miserable situation snowballs as the film proceeds. Yet, in the face of all this turmoil, he claws out an emotional palette dwelling within his battered soul and brandishes past and present trauma beautifully.
With a documentarian’s eye, Weinstein miraculously depicts Menashe’s pain as a universally felt quandary while allowing an especially private world to be portrayed without exploitation or criticism. The director’s neorealist style embraces the untidiness of real life that recalls Vittorio De Sica’s “Bicycle Thieves.” With an acute ability to capture emotive truth, Weinstein respects Hasidic customs and doesn’t fetishize them with an outsider’s perspective. He instead, takes a fly-on-the-wall approach unlike any other — one with considerate intimacy and well-researched observance. With a deep understanding of the connective power of cinema, Weinstein manages to present this little Hasidic community upon relatable grounds by giving us Menashe, a resonant human being full of relatable pains in the face of a lifestyle kept secret. [B]