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Weinstein approached me ‘Jew to Jew’: Jodi Kantor opens up on the ‘She Said’ movie’s Jewish moments
(JTA) — When the New York Times journalist Jodi Kantor was reporting the 2017 Harvey Weinstein sexual assault story that earned her a Pulitzer prize, the powerful Hollywood producer and his team tried to influence her by using something they had in common: They are both Jewish.
“Weinstein put [Jewishness] on the table and seemed to expect that I was going to have some sort of tribal loyalty to him,” Kantor told the Jewish Telegraphic Agency on a video call from the New York Times newsroom. “And that was just not going to be the case.”
Now, that exchange has been immortalized in “She Said,” a new film adaptation of the nonfiction book of the same name by Kantor and her collaborator Megan Twohey that details their investigation into Weinstein’s conduct, which helped launch the #MeToo movement.
The film, directed by Maria Schrader with stars Zoe Kazan as Kantor and Carey Mulligan as Twohey, is an understated thriller that has drawn comparisons to “All the President’s Men” — and multiple subtle but powerful Jewish-themed subplots reveal the way Kantor’s Jewishness arose during and at times intersected with the investigation.
In one scene, the Kantor character notes that a Jewish member of Weinstein’s team tried to appeal to her “Jew to Jew.” In another, Kantor shares a moving moment with Weinstein’s longtime accountant, the child of Holocaust survivors, as they discuss the importance of speaking up about wrongdoing.
Kantor, 47, grew up between New York and New Jersey, the first grandchild of Holocaust survivors — born “almost 30 years to the day after my grandparents were liberated,” she notes. She calls her grandmother Hana Kantor, a 99-year-old Holocaust survivor, her “lodestar.” Kantor — who doesn’t often speak publicly about her personal life, including her Jewish background, which involved some education in Jewish schools — led a segment for CBS in May 2021 on her grandmother and their relationship. Before her journalism career, she spent a year in Israel on a Dorot Fellowship, working with Israeli and Palestinian organizations. She’s now a “proud member” of a Reform synagogue in Brooklyn.
Kantor spoke with JTA about the film’s Jewish threads, the portrayal of the New York Times newsroom and what Zoe Kazan’s performance captures about journalism.
This interview has been edited and condensed for clarity and length.
JTA: How did you feel having Zoe Kazan, who is not Jewish, play you? Kazan has played some notably Jewish characters before, for example in the HBO miniseries “The Plot Against America.”
JK: I feel Zoe’s performance is so sensitive and so layered. What I really appreciate about her performance is that she captures so many of the emotions I was feeling under the surface in the investigation. You know, when you’re a reporter and especially a reporter handling that sensitive a story, it’s your responsibility to present a really smooth professional exterior to the world. At the end of the investigation, I had the job of reading Harvey Weinstein some of the allegations and really confronting him. And in dealing with the victims, I wanted to be a rock for them and it was my job to get them to believe in the investigation. And so on the one hand, you have that smooth, professional exterior, but then below that, of course you’re feeling all the feelings. You’re feeling the power of the material, you’re feeling the urgency of getting the story, you’re feeling the fear that Weinstein could hurt somebody else. You’re feeling the loss that these women are expressing, including over their careers. And so I think Zoe’s performance just communicates that so beautifully.
What Zoe says about the character is that there are elements of me, there are elements of herself, and then there are elements of pure invention because she’s an artist, and that’s what she does.
I think the screenplay gets at a small but significant line of Jewish sub-drama that ran through the investigation. It went like this: Harvey Weinstein and his representatives were constantly trying to approach me as a Jew. And they’ve done this more recently, as well. There have been times when Harvey Weinstein was trying to approach me “Jew to Jew,” like almost in a tone of “you and I are the same, we understand each other.” We found dossiers later that they had compiled on me and it was clear that they knew that I was the grandchild of Holocaust survivors, and they tried to sort of deploy that. So speaking of keeping things under the surface, I privately thought that was offensive, that he was citing that. But your job as a reporter is to be completely professional. And I wasn’t looking to get into a fight with Weinstein. I just wanted to find out the truth and I actually wanted to be fair to the guy. Anyway, even as he was approaching me “Jew to Jew” in private, he was hiring Black Cube — sort of Israeli private intelligence agents — to try to dupe me. And they actually sent an agent to me, and she posed as a women’s rights advocate. And she was intimating that they were going to pay me a lot of money to appear at a conference in London. Luckily I shooed her away.
To some degree I can’t explain why private Israeli intelligence agents were hired to try to dupe the Hebrew speaking, yeshiva-educated, granddaughter of Holocaust survivors. But it’s not my job to explain that! It’s their job to explain why they did that.
Then the theme reappeared with Irwin Reiter, Weinstein’s accountant of 30 years, who kind of became the Deep Throat of the investigation. I quickly figured out that Irwin and I were from the same small world. He was the child of survivors, and had also spent his summers at bungalow colonies in the Catskills just down the road from mine. I don’t bring up the Holocaust a lot. It’s a sacred matter for me, and I didn’t do it lightly. But once I discovered that we did in fact have this really powerful connection in our backgrounds, I did gently sound it with him – I felt that was sincere and real. Because he was making such a critical decision: Weinstein’s accountant of 30 years is still working for the guy by day and he’s meeting with me at night. And I felt like I did need to go to that place with him, saying, “Okay, Irwin, we both know that there are people who talk and there are people who don’t. And we both grew up around that mix of people and what do we think is the difference? And also if you know if you have the chance to act and intervene in a bad situation, are you going to take it?”
We didn’t talk a lot about it, because I raised it and he didn’t want to fully engage. But I always felt like that was under the surface of our conversations, and he made a very brave decision to help us.
That was a very powerful scene in the film, and it felt like a turning point in the movie that kind of got at the ethical core of what was motivating your character. Was that a scene that was important to you personally to include in the film?
What Megan and I want people to know overall is that a small number of brave sources can make an extraordinary difference. When you really look at the number of people who gave us the essential information about Weinstein, it’s a small conference room’s worth of people. Most of them are incredibly brave women, some of whom are depicted, I think, quite beautifully in the film. But there was also Irwin, Weinstein’s accountant of all these years, among them. It’s Megan and my job to build people’s confidence in telling the truth. And as we become custodians of this story for the long term, one of the things we really want people to know is that a tiny group of brave sources, sometimes one source, can make a massive difference. Look at the impact that these people had all around the world.
Did you feel the film captured the New York Times newsroom? There’s a kind of great reverence to the toughness and professionalism in the newspaper business that really came through.
Megan and I are so grateful for the sincerity and professionalism with which the journalism is displayed. There are a lot of on screen depictions of journalists in which we’re depicted as manipulative or doing things for the wrong reasons or sleeping with our sources!
We [as journalists] feel incredible drama in what we do every day. And we’re so grateful to the filmmakers for finding it and sharing it with people. And I know the New York Times can look intimidating or remote as an institution. I hope people really consider this an invitation into the building and into our meetings, and into our way of working and our value system.
And we’re also proud that it’s a vision of a really female New York Times, which was not traditionally the case at this institution for a long time. This is a book and a movie about women as narrators.
“Harvey Weinstein and his representatives were constantly trying to approach me as a Jew,” Kantor said. (The New York Times)
There have been comparisons made between this movie and “All the President’s Men.” One of the striking differences is that those journalists are two male bachelors running around D.C. And this film has scenes of motherhood, of the Shabbat table, of making lunches. What was it like seeing your personal lives reflected on screen?
It’s really true that the Weinstein investigation was kind of born in the crucible of motherhood and Megan and my attempt to combine work with parenting. On the one hand, it’s the most everyday thing in the world, but on the other hand, you don’t see it actually portrayed on screen that much. We’re really honored by the way that throughout the film you see motherhood and work mixing, I think in a way that is so natural despite our obviously pretty stressful circumstances.
I started out alone on the Weinstein investigation, and I called Megan because movie stars were telling me their secrets but they were very reluctant to go on the record. So I had gone some way in persuading and engaging them, but I was looking to make the absolute strongest case for them. So I called Megan. We had both done years of reporting on women and children. Mine involved the workplace more and hers involved sex crimes more, which is part of why everything melded together so well eventually. I wanted to talk to her about what she had said to female victims in the past. But when I reached her, I could hear that something was wrong. And she had just had a baby, and I had had postpartum depression myself. So we talked about it and I gave her the name of my doctor, who I had seen. Then she got treatment. And she not only gave very good advice on that [initial] phone call, but she joined me in the investigation.
I think the theme is responsibility. Our relationship was forged in a sense of shared responsibility, primarily for the work – once we began to understand the truths about Weinstein, we couldn’t allow ourselves to fail. But also Megan was learning to shoulder the responsibility of being a parent, and I had two kids. And so we started this joint dialogue that was mostly about work, but also about motherhood. And I think throughout the film and throughout the real investigation, we felt those themes melding. It’s totally true that my daughter Tali was asking me about what I was doing. It’s very hard to keep secrets from your kid in a New York City apartment, even though I didn’t tell her everything. And Megan and I would go from discussing really critical matters with the investigation to talking about her daughter’s evolving nap schedule. It really felt like we had to get the story and get home to the kids.
And also, we were reporting on our own cohort. A lot of Weinstein victims were and are women in their 40s. And so even though we were very professional with this and we tried to be very professional with the sources, there was an aspect of looking in the mirror. For example, with Laura Madden, who was so brave about going on the record, it was conversations with her own teenage daughters that helped her make her decision.
We didn’t write about this in our book because it was hard to mix the motherhood stuff with this sort of serious reporter-detective story and all the important facts. And we didn’t want to talk about ourselves too much in the book. But the filmmakers captured something that I think is very true. It feels particular to us but also universal. When Zoe [Kazan] is pushing a stroller and taking a phone call at the same time, I suspect lots of people will identify with that. And what I also really like is the grace and dignity with which that’s portrayed.
It must have been surreal, seeing a Hollywood movie about your investigation of Hollywood.
I think part of the power of the film is that it returns the Weinstein investigation to the producer’s medium, but on vastly different terms, with the women in charge. Megan and I are particularly moved by the portrayals of Zelda Perkins, Laura Madden and Rowena Chiu — these former Weinstein assistants are in many ways at the core of the story. They’re everyday people who made the incredibly brave decision to help us, in spite of everything from breast cancer to legal barriers.
Working with the filmmakers was really interesting. They were really committed to the integrity of the story, and they asked a ton of questions, both large and small. Ranging from the really big things about the investigation to these tiny details. Like in the scene where we go to Gwyneth Paltrow’s house and Megan and I discover we’re practically wearing the same dress — those were the actual white dresses that we wore that day. We had to send them in an envelope to the costume department, and they copied the dresses in Zoe and Carey’s sizes and that’s what they’re wearing. There was a strand of extreme fidelity, but they needed some artistic license because it’s a movie. And the movie plays out in the key of emotion.
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Israeli couple killed by Iranian cluster bomb as Israel continues assassinating Iranian officials
(JTA) — A couple in their 70s were killed overnight Tuesday by an Iranian missile, apparently as they tried to reach a bomb shelter, amid an especially intense barrage of missiles aimed at the Tel Aviv area.
Yaron and Ilana Moshe were killed near their home in Ramat Gan, an upscale suburb of Tel Aviv; a walker found near their bodies suggested that they were on their way to shelter but could not move quickly, officials said. Damage from the cluster munitions, which shed smaller bombs as they land, was also reported at other sites including a main train station in Tel Aviv.
The barrage, Iran said, was retaliation for the killing the day before of Ali Larijani, the country’s security minister and a close ally of its assassinated supreme leader, Ayatollah Ali Khamenei.
Shortly afterwards, Israel announced that it had assassinated another top official, intelligence minister Esmaeil Khatib. The Israeli military said in a statement, “Khatib played a significant role during the recent protests throughout Iran, including the arrest & killing of protestors and led terrorist activities against Israelis & Americans around the world.”
Israel’s defense minister, Israel Katz, warned that “significant surprises” would be ahead as Israel continued to pummel targets in Iran.
A Wall Street Journal story published Wednesday details how Israel says it is choosing its targets, describing an extensive list of sites and people who are in its crosshairs. Israel knew security officers would gather in sports complexes after their offices were destroyed, then bombed the complexes once they were full, for example, according to the story, which says Iranians say order is beginning to fray on the streets but the regime appears far from falling. Israel said earlier this week that it had three more weeks of targets to work through.
Israel has also stepped up its campaign in and around Beirut, where it is targeting forces affiliated with Hezbollah, the Iranian proxy that operates out of Lebanon and has been bombing Israel since earlier this month.
The post Israeli couple killed by Iranian cluster bomb as Israel continues assassinating Iranian officials appeared first on The Forward.
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I love the Atlanta Jewish Film Festival. This year, it left me heartbroken
I’ve heard Buffalo Springfield’s “For What It’s Worth” hundreds of times. But one recent Friday afternoon, returning from the grocery store with food for Shabbat dinner, was the first time I truly listened to the words.
“There’s battle lines being drawn,” Springfield sang. “Nobody’s right if everybody’s wrong / Young people speaking their minds / Are getting so much resistance from behind.”
Six decades later, those lines felt less like a period artifact than a live transmission.
I’ve spent most of my adult life working in and around Atlanta’s Jewish community, including six years on staff at the Atlanta Jewish Film Festival, leading community engagement and guest programming. So when the Israeli Consulate General to the Southeastern United States pulled its sponsorship of AJFF mid-festival last month — publicly rebuking the organization over its engagement with a Muslim Morehouse College student who had made social media posts criticizing Israel’s actions in Gaza — I felt it the way you feel a fracture in your own family.
What followed was even more painful to witness. This juror, by multiple accounts, was thoughtful, respectful, and described his role with the festival as an honor. The naming and public shaming he has been subject to in the past few weeks, as Jewish organizations issued statements of condemnation, have likely undone any understanding and bridge-building that had taken place over the course of his engagement with AJFF.
And AJFF, one of the largest Jewish film festivals in the world, found itself at the center of a communal firestorm — not for screening a controversial film, but for engaging with a young man of a different faith and perspective as part of a three-person jury evaluating human rights documentaries.
Reflecting on this now that this year’s festival has concluded, I’m troubled by what this incident shows about just how far the “battle lines” Springfield mentioned have extended — and how dangerous they are. Sometime between the Hamas attack of Oct. 7, 2023 and today, something troubling took hold in parts of our community: the conflation of Jewish identity with unquestioning political loyalty to the current Israeli government.
The Talmud records that the rabbis preserved minority opinions precisely because truth is not always with the majority, and because a dissenting voice might one day be vindicated by circumstance. We are a people who have, for millennia, argued with God. Are we now going to stop arguing respectfully with each other?
And what does it mean for Atlanta — a city that styles itself the cradle of the civil rights movement — when its Jewish community responds to disagreement in this close-minded manner?
AJFF was built to advance a different set of goals. The festival’s mission has always rested on the belief that film is uniquely powerful as a vehicle for human connection — that sitting in the dark together, watching stories unfold, can open us to perspectives we might otherwise never encounter.
AJFF does not screen films as endorsements, nor does it require audiences to agree with what they see. Many screenings are followed by panel discussions designed to surface complexity, not resolve it. The festival’s explicit commitment to “foster intergroup understanding among Atlanta’s diverse cultural, ethnic and religious populations” is not a political statement — it is a pedagogical one.
Art doesn’t ask us to capitulate to another point of view. It asks us to be present with it long enough to recognize our shared humanity. As Robert Redford, honored during Sunday’s Academy Award in memoriam tribute, once said: “The glory of art is that it can not only survive change, it can lead it.”
Inviting a young Muslim student to evaluate films about human rights is not a provocation. It is that mission — AJFF’s mission — made real.
Organizations and individuals who are willing to engage in thoughtful, open-hearted dialogue with those whose experiences differ from their own — who resist the pull toward insularity and choose engagement instead — are doing some of the most important work in American civic life. That willingness, that courage, has the capacity to create lasting change for the better.
These are not radical ideas. They are deeply Jewish ones.
Hamas’s terror on October 7, 2023, was a cataclysmic rupture — a massacre that has legitimately shaken every Jewish person I know, including those who hold the most progressive views on Israeli policy. The grief and fear are real. The trauma is real. And antisemitism — actual antisemitism, not mere criticism of a government — is real and rising, and must be confronted without equivocation.
Just last week, a gunman rammed his vehicle into a synagogue in suburban Detroit in what the FBI called a targeted act of violence against the Jewish community. It is a reminder, as if we needed one, that the threats facing Jews in America are not hypothetical — they are physical, present, and demand our clear-eyed vigilance.
But vigilance and exclusion are not the same. Nor does the latter reflect the truth of the American Jewish community.
A recent poll from the Jewish Federations of North America found that while 88% of respondents affirm Israel’s right to exist as a Jewish, democratic state, only 37% identify as Zionists. These numbers do not reflect a collapse of Jewish values. They reflect a community grappling honestly and painfully with a situation that resists easy answers — which is exactly what Jewish communities are supposed to do.
That’s also what Judaism is about, at least the version I was raised in.
That Judaism tells us to welcome the stranger because we were once strangers ourselves. It instructs us that the most important commandment is to love your neighbor. It has, in my experience, made the Atlanta Jewish community one of the most generous, creative and genuinely pluralistic in the country.
The cancellation of individuals and organizations, the public shaming, the erosion of communal institutions that took decades to build — these are not expressions of Jewish strength. They are symptoms of fear. And fear, historically, has never served us well.
I do not have all the answers. My own views on Israel and Gaza have evolved, and I expect they will continue to. What I hold with confidence is this: if we retreat into camps of “Good Jew” and “Bad Jew,” defined not by ethical conduct or spiritual practice but by the volume of one’s political allegiance, we will lose something irreplaceable.
“Young people speaking their minds,” to quote Springfield, are already showing signs of disengagement from Jewish institutional life. They will not be won back by litmus tests and boycotts. They will be won back, if at all, by communities that demonstrate the capacity to hold complexity without cruelty.
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German antisemitism commissioner quits far‑left party over anti-Israel resolution
(JTA) — BERLIN – The antisemitism commissioner for the German state of Brandenburg has resigned from his far-left party over a resolution passed Sunday condemning Israel.
After 11 years in Die Linke (The Left), Andreas Büttner has quit its ranks over the position taken by members in Lower Saxony, in former West Germany. But it’s also personal: Büttner said he’s had enough of what he has described as harassment from within his party.
“It’s no longer possible. And I can’t go on … without betraying my own convictions,” Büttner wrote in a statement to party leaders. The letter was shared with the dpa, the German press association.
Die Linke is the successor to the Socialist Unity Party of Germany, the ruling communist party of former East Germany, and has a platform that is critical of capitalism and of NATO. Die Linke notched a better-than-expected finish in last year’s national elections, drawing 9% of the vote despite internal tensions over Israel and Germany’s handling of antisemitism.
According to news reports about Büttner’s resignation, Brandenburg’s party leaders expressed “great regret and respect,” and promised to continue fighting antisemitism with him.
“This is not a question of party affiliation,” wrote Stefan Wollenberg, the party’s managing director in Brandenburg.
The trigger for Büttner’s move was a resolution condemning current forms of Zionism, put forward by the party’s youth delegation in Lower Saxony. They insisted that the resolution — passed at their convention in Hanover last weekend — was not against Zionism per se, only against “existing political manifestations of Zionism.”
But Büttner, who has long stood up for Israel in defiance to his party, and has openly criticized antisemitism from all corners, said the message was unmistakable.
Resolutions that condemn Israel as a “genocidal state” and an “apartheid state” are “no longer acceptable to me,” he wrote in his resignation. He criticized the Lower Saxony party for coming perilously close to questioning Israel’s right to exist.
The fight against antisemitism should transcend party lines, he added. “All the more shocking for me is what I have had to experience within my own party for years,” he wrote, as cited in the Tagesspiegel newspaper.
Büttner, a former police officer who was elected in 2024 to his position as Brandenburg’s first commissioner for combating antisemitism, has had his differences with his party for some time over its views on Israel. Departing from his party’s official stance, Büttner supports the International Holocaust Remembrance Alliance’s definition of antisemitism, known as IHRA, which labels some criticism of Israel as eliminationist and thus antisemitic.
In 2025, members of his party tried and failed to have him expelled over his solidarity with Israel.
Büttner also has been targeted by unknown perpetrators, who in 2024 vandalized his car with swastikas and other Nazi symbols, and in January set fire to a building on his property, leaving a Hamas symbol as their calling card.
The new resolution, which condemns Hamas as well as Israel, characterizes terrorism as a result of “occupation, disenfranchisement, and a lack of prospects.”
It rejects “the Zionism that actually exists today” and recognizes “ethnonationalism and political Zionism as a major obstacle to a peaceful future for all people in the region.”
It says that both Israel and Hamas “harbor fantasies of annihilation” against one another.
The resolution refers to “two years of genocide” in Gaza, calls for an “end to apartheid in Israel and the occupied territories” and criticizes the alleged instrumentalization of antisemitism “to delegitimize criticism of actually existing political Zionism.” It presents a list of demands on Israel, but none on the Palestinian leadership or Hamas.
Die Linke has a long history of anti-Israel activism: In 2010, prominent party members took part in the ill-fated Gaza Freedom Flotilla, aboard the Mavi Marmara, which the Israeli military intercepted in an operation that killed 10 activists. The German politicians were among those arrested and deported home.
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