Features
A story of resistance and courage from Ukraine
By MARTIN ZEILIG In late July, I received a document from a friend, which was sent to him by someone associated with the Beamsville, Ontario-based charitable organization, Friends of the Mennonite Centre in Ukraine , (FOMCU).
The document was part one of a story written by Iryna Lynka, the mayor of Molochansk, a city in eastern Ukraine.
Lynka was captured by the Russians around March 15 after Russia’s unprovoked, illegal and genocidal invasion of Ukraine began on February 24, 2022. She was released three and a half weeks later, and is now living in the Ukrainian controlled city of Zaporozhian, Alvin Suderman, the FOMCU Chair in Steinbach, wrote in an email to me.
“It is a horrific story,” he wrote.
“Imagine being held in the prison in Tokmak listening to the screams of people being tortured.”
The report was translated into English by Oksana Druchynina, the FOMCU manager now living in Abbotsford; B.C. Ms. Druchhnina is still translating the second part of Ms. Lynka’s narrative.
Iryna’s story
The former mayor of a town in south eastern Ukraine has finally been released, after nearly four weeks in Russian captivity. What’s more, she is defiant.
“And I didn’t surrender, I was reborn from tears. I was born Ukrainian.” Those words are from a song Iryna Lynka knew before she was abducted by Russian soldiers.
Iryna was elected mayor of Molochansk in Zaporizhzhia. After Russia attacked Ukraine in February, her community was occupied in two days. She says initially, the Russians did not behave cruelly, as it seemed they believed their own propaganda that they would be welcomed. They were wrong. When the security arm of the Russian military arrived, three weeks later, the abductions began.
“On March 31, at 6 am, they came to my home. A search was conducted. My sister and my mother, who is 82-years-old, were staying overnight. I asked them not to disturb my family, and they did not. First, they asked if there were police or Ukrainian soldiers in our house. I could report that there were none.
“Then they asked why I—as a local politician— supported a pro-Ukrainian party called the “Servant of the People” rather than the pro-Russian party called OPZZH. They took away all the papers and work files. They took me outside and the home was searched by five Russian agents. I noticed that there were many fully armed men on the street. They surrounded the house.
“As they were taking me away, we passed a Russian armoured vehicle, and the driver turned to me and scornfully said: ‘Are you disappointed that this is not the Ukrainian Armed Forces!’”
WITH A BAG ON THE HEAD
“Then they put a bag on my head and put me in another car. They drove to the Tokmak police station, 12 km away. My deputy and another town worker were also brought there. I noticed through the fabric covering my face that they also had bags on their heads. Their primary goal was to lure me— as the head of the community— to their side.
They took my phone and passport and said that we know everything about you, that you have authority among the population and that you are very suitable for us. They wanted me to join their side, to make a video of me distributing their “humanitarian aid” and to talk about the advantages of the Russian Federation. I was to tell people to join the Russian side. And I immediately said “No.”
“At first, they seemed to be polite, addressing me with respect. Then later, they were very rude and disrespectful.”
“REAL BANDERA!”
Iryna says she was interrogated by young security services men who were not older than 30. They teased and threatened her.
“They opened my passport and saw my place of birth, which is the Lviv region. But I have lived almost my entire life in Eastern Ukraine, in Zaporizhzhia.
“Ah, so you are a true Bandera! “ (a pejorative term for Ukrainians, coined after the Nazi collaborator and anti-Semite Stepan Bandera), they said.
“All the interrogations took place at the police office assembly hall. I had been placed on a chair in the middle of the room, surrounded by six to eight men with machine guns pointed at me. They all wore balaclavas, but I will never forget their eyes. I think I could recognize them now.”
“I was told I had two options: to cooperate or to hope for an exchange. Of course, I wouldn’t want to go with a suitcase to an unknown place where I don’t have anywhere to live. But personally, I did not imagine how it is possible to cooperate with them. Later, the lawyers in Ukraine explained to me that if I had given my consent to cooperate, it would not have been seen as collaboration by Ukrainian authorities, since I was forced under machine guns, and it would not have been a voluntary decision. But I immediately understood that Russians are people with whom there will be no compromise, no dialogue. And if I had agreed to hand out their ‘humanitarian aid,’ then they would have had more orders, they would never stop forcing me to do what they need.”
BLACKMAIL AND THREATS
As a result of refusing to cooperate, Iryna was threatened and told her family and children (she has two adult sons) would suffer the consequences. “They said: ‘You will die and rot here. We will take you to Russia and we will put you before the court and judge you according to Russian laws. No one will find you!’ ”. She understood all this was possible.
“I was interrogated in the evening when it was already dark. They were angry… because they couldn’t get what they wanted from me, they couldn’t do anything with me. But physically they did not touch me.”
Still, Iryna says they used whatever means they could to intimidate and blackmail her. She says when she returned to her cell after the interrogations, everything felt mixed up. She had never written poetry in her life yet, while in captivity, she wrote half a dozen poems.
She did not know what would happen from one minute to the next, and whether she would ever be released.
And she recalled her friend’s song. “When I remembered these lines, I didn’t think about my troubles, but I thought of people who had it much harder than me, and especially our men and women at the front. And I had to survive through all these troubles. I only asked and prayed to God that they would not take advantage of my family, so they would not arrest and torture them.”
OUR GUYS WERE
UNGODLY TORTURED
But Iryna‘s time in her cell was excruciating. She could not bear the sounds she heard coming from men being tortured nearby.
“We, the women, were not beaten up, but what I heard… the window in the cell was opened deliberately so that I could hear what was happening there, how people screamed, how they were mocked. The boys were brutally beaten, which was not done to the women! They were moaning, and screaming, and begging… just horror. Later, one of them told me that they poured water into a bowl and passed an electric stream through his legs, and something was inserted under his nails, and he was pricked.
“And here you are, lying in the cell, no one touches you, but you are tortured by those sounds and screams of terror. I thought how can those who torture people, return to their families, how can they hug their wives and children, be gentle? They were not acting human.”
“KYIV, CHERNIGIV AND
SUMY ARE OURS!”
While in captivity, Iryna had no information from the outside. Taking advantage of this, the security services officials said that the Russians had already taken Kyiv, they had taken Chernihiv and that there would be no Ukraine.
“Somehow, I was able to receive a small package of chocolate and prunes from my sister, Svetlana. Hidden inside, was a note: ‘Kyiv, Chernihiv and Sumy are ours!’ ”
“God, how I kissed that note! I understood that they were deceiving me, that everything was not so bad. Over time I received a few more notes. How important that was. It broadened my understanding of what was happening.”
“Something I won’t forget is how afraid I was of getting sick. In April, it was very cold in the concrete cell. My feet were freezing. Medicines were sometimes given, but there were times when a doctor was deliberately not called. Once I woke up and I was shaking; I took a pill. I did not know whether my blood pressure was very low or, on the contrary, too high. I called for a doctor, but he never came. And in the evening, they called me for questioning and smiling, asked ‘Well, how are you?’ I said that everything was fine, but I thought to myself, ‘You will not get me!’ For them, all their tactics were acceptable, and I understood that one must never show weakness or fear. I’m not saying that I’m fearless and I was not afraid. No, I was afraid. I understood that anything could happen.”
HOPE FOR AN EXCHANGE
“A week later, I signed a letter of resignation, saying I was no longer mayor. I understood that according to Ukrainian laws, this would not change anything, but the security services wanted me to formally acknowledge I was not the head of the community. Together with the resignation letter, I made a written request to be included in a prisoner exchange and this was handed over to the Molochansk town council.
“Although under the Geneva Convention, civilians cannot be captured and therefore can’t be exchanged, the Russians did just that. They abducted people so they could have an ‘exchange fund’ for their side.
“My name was included on a prisoner exchange list three times. Two Russian soldiers were offered for me. However, I was taken off the list every time. I’m convinced that the man who lost the mayoralty election to me, and who now cooperates with the Russians, helped remove my name.”
MORE THREATS
“One day, a new commander was going around the cells. I asked him about a prisoner exchange. He told me it was ‘in the process.’ That’s when I realized an exchange was very possible. Soon, during another interrogation, an officer offered to record a video of me appealing to my community, with propaganda about the Russian Federation.
“I refused again. ‘Then you will die in the cell!’ And I said, ‘I will be exchanged!’ He replied that they tore up my application and flushed it down the toilet, that there would be no exchange. ‘It will happen,’ I said. ‘There is already a resolution.” He snapped: “How do you know?”I told him that I had been informed. He shouted: ‘That’s it! No more relief packages from your family.’
“I was afraid that they would search the cell and find the notes. As soon as I returned from the interrogation, I tore the notes up. These pieces of paper were so dear to me, I reread them multiple times, but I threw them into the toilet.”
RELEASED, BUT THE FEAR REMAINS
In the end, Iryna Lypka was not exchanged, but released. The Russians did not explain anything. She believes that she was saved because the men holding her captive were reassigned and a new, more compassionate team was brought in.
“I was released in the afternoon on April 23, just before Easter. When I came out, I was so dizzy, that my legs wobbled. I was not weak, but the arrest left its mark. For example, I woke up on Sunday at home, opened my eyes and got scared – why is there so much light in the room?
“Or when a dog barks on the street – I run to the window. If a tractor is driving by, I imagine that I see a tank. If I see Russian military vehicles driving by, I think they must be coming for me.
“Soon after my release, Mayor Kotelevskyi of Tokmak was killed. This is the city where I was held prisoner. Officially it was declared to be a suicide, but the people did not believe that. As the deposed mayor of Molochansk, I did not feel safe and this is when I felt I had to leave.”
In the end, together with her 82-year-old mother and her sister’s family, Iryna left for the nearest Ukrainian-controlled city of Zaporizhzhia.
“IF WE FIND BANDERA –
WE WILL SHOOT EVERYONE!”
Iryna Lypka says it is difficult for Ukrainian people to understand the Russian army.
“The Russian soldiers went from house to house and asked, ‘Do you have Bandera?’, and people laughed at them. The Russians said, ‘If we find them – we’ll shoot everyone!’
“Some Russians made themselves at home in one of the houses. The owner came in and smelled a terrible stench from dirty clothes and socks. She was indignant: ‘You could at least ventilate. They were surprised: ‘Are you saying that your windows open?’ It turns out that they had never seen double-glazed windows, yet they came to Ukraine to ‘save’ us.
“Russian soldiers are amazed that the houses are all built of brick and stone. It appears that they rob households of microwave ovens as they have never seen them before. The occupiers also told her that they have no natural gas in the villages in Russia. That is, the pipeline goes through the village, but there is no access to the gas for the villagers.
“They were amazed at everything – the paved road, natural gas, and streetlights.
“The security services tried to tell me during the interrogations that Ukraine is a mess and that Zelensky is bad. On the contrary, I started telling them about the program… ‘Big construction’ being implemented in the country – roads, schools, gardens, sports complexes—large facilities are being built. We have problems and we need to solve them, but we do not go to Russia to solve theirs.
“Only once, during the interrogation, one of them blurted out that ‘I feel sorry for you because you are a woman.’ And others have no emotions – they just have the orders they follow. And they just have a terrible hatred for us.”
Now Iryna Lypka is in Zaporizhzhia, dealing with issues of financing the community, as well as issuing documents to graduates of the schools in the area. She also organizes the work of the Children’s Affairs Service. In Zaporizhzhia, they are trying to help those who have fled the Russian-occupied area, and they are also arranging humanitarian aid. Those who leave Zaporizhzhia deliver necessary goods to the Russian-occupied community.
The new mayor appointed by the Russians operates in Molochansk. He drives Iryna’s car around the town, the one the Russians seized from her.
“There are people in Molochansk who cooperate with the Russians or seem happy about their new life. There are women who live with the Russian occupiers.
“I cannot understand these people. They see what the Russians do, how they mock the Ukrainians, how they rob and take everything from people. Everyone sees everything with their own eyes, not from the TV screen. And someone goes to bed with that animal. It simply cannot be understood.
“What can be said, of people who are well- off, fighting to get in line for Russian ‘humanitarian aid,’ so that even the Russians laugh and film them? Well, one could understand if people were really bloated with hunger. But each of us has potatoes and vegetable gardens. You should not disrespect yourself like that! I also don’t understand a person who always puts her hand on her chest while singing the National Anthem of Ukraine and today is collaborating with the occupiers. However, there are just a few of them. There are more patriotic people than corrupt ones.”
“I believe in our Armed Forces. I believe that we will definitely win and rebuild our beloved Ukraine. Let’s all believe!”
Features
Three generations of Wernicks all chose to become rabbis
By GERRY POSNER Recently I was at a Shabbat service at Beth Tzedec Synagogue in Toronto and the day unfolded in some unexpected ways for me.
It began when I was asked to be a Gabbai for the service, that is to stand up at the table where the Torah is placed and to check the Torah reading to make sure there are no errors. I have done this before and it has always gone smoothly. I attribute that fact in large part to the Torah reading ability of the reader at Beth Synagogue. He is fast, fluent and flawless. Well, on this particular day after he had completed the first two portions, he began the shlishi or third aliyah. I could not find his reading anywhere. It was as if he had started somewhere fresh, but not where he was supposed to be. I looked at the other Gabbai and he did not seem to recognize what had happened either. So, I let it go. I had no idea where the Torah reader was. He then did another and still I was lost. He came to what was the 6th aliyah when a clergy member walked over to him and indicated to him that he had read the fourth and fifth aliyah, but that he had missed the third one. The Torah reader then said to me “this is what you are here for.” Now, it might have been one thing if I had missed it entirely. Alas, I saw the error, but let it go as I deferred to the Torah reader since he never makes a mistake. He ended up going back to do the third aliyah before continuing on. This was a very unusual event in the synagogue. I felt responsible in large part for this gaffe. A lesson learned.
The feeling of embarrassment was compounded by the fact that on this particular day the service was highlighted, at least for me, because of the rabbi delivering the sermon. This rabbi, Eugene Wernick, was none other than the father of my present rabbi, Steven Wernick of Beth Tzedec Synagogue. He was also the same rabbi who was the rabbi at Shaarey Zedek between 1979-1986 and who had officiated at my father’s funeral in 1981, also a few years later at my oldest son’s Bar Mitzvah in Winnipeg in 1984. As I listened to him speak, I was taken back to the 1980s, when Rabbi Gene was in the pulpit at Shaarey Zedek. Of course, he is older now than in his Shaarey Zedek days, but the power of his voice was unchanged. If anything, it’s even stronger. As in the past, his message was relevant to all of us and resonated well. Listening to him was a treat for me. Still, my regret in not calling out the mistake from the Torah reading was compounded by the fact that I messed up in front of my former rabbi, Eugene Wernick – never mind my present rabbi, Steven Werinck.
On this Shabbat morning, aside from all the other people present, there were not only the two Rabbis Wernick, but one Michelle Wernick was also there. Michelle, daughter of Rabbi Steven Wernick, is a first year student at the Jewish Theological Seminary. She is following in the family business – much like with the Rose rabbinical family in Winnipeg.
As it turned out, there was a Bat Mitzvah that day. And the Bat Mitzvah family had a very real Winnipeg connection as in the former Leah Potash, mother of the Bat Mitzvah girl, Emmie Bank and the daughter of Reuben and Gail Potash (Thau). It occurred to me that there might be a few Winnipeg people in the crowd. As I scanned the first few rows, I was not disappointed. Sitting there was none other than Chana Thau and her husband Michael Eleff. I managed to have a chat with Chana (even during the Musaf service). In the row right behind Chana and Michael was a face I had not seen in close to sixty years. I refer to Allan Berkal, the eldest son of the former rabbi and chazan at Shaarey Zedek, Louis Berkal. I still remember the first time I met Allan at Hebrew School in 1954 when his family moved to Winnipeg from Grand Forks, North Dakota. That was many maftirs ago. So this was another highlight moment for me.
Of course, there are other Winnipeggers who attend Beth Tzedec most Shabbats. I speak of Morley Goldberg and his wife, the former Marcia Billinkoff Schnoor. As well, Bernie Rubenstein and his wife, the former Sheila Levene were also present for this particular Shabbat. In all, this Shabbat had a particularly Winnipeg flavour to it. Truth be told, you do not have to go far in Toronto at any synagogue and the Winnipeg connections emerge.
Features
In Britain Too, Jews Are in Trouble
By HENRY SREBRNIK Antisemitic attacks in Britain have surged to levels unseen in decades, with Jewish schools under guard and synagogues routinely targeted. Jews suffered the highest rate of religious hate crimes in the year ending March 2025, according to interior ministry data. And it has only become worse.
Jewish Post and News readers know, of course, about the attack on Jewish worshippers at the Heaton Park Synagogue in Manchester at Yom Kippur services on October 2, 2025. The attack killed Adrian Daulby, 53, and Melvin Cravitz, 66, and left three others injured.
Greater Manchester Police Chief Sir Stephen Watson said fear within the Jewish community had risen sharply, with even young children asking for armed police protection to simply attend Hanukkah parties.
While the blame for the violence lies with the assailant, an immigrant from Syria, who was shot dead by police, the responsibility for the circumstances in which two Jews died and where a Jewish community that has contributed loyally to British society for centuries fears for its existence lies with the leaders of the British establishment.
The Labour government, many of whose supporters and elected representatives flirt with pro-Hamas positions, has fueled the flames with its denunciations of Israel’s war and recognition of a Palestinian state. Many younger people, their minds filled with postmodern “anticolonialist” left ideology, are eager recruits to the cause.
Ruth Deech is a British academic, bioethicist and politician who sits in the House of Lords. Ten years ago, she warned that some of the country’s top universities had become “no-go zones” for Jewish students. But, in the wake of the October 7 atrocities and ensuing war in Gaza, she believes the situation is much worse.
“The warfare on the streets is being continued in the universities,” Deech told the Times of Israel Dec. 25. “The universities on the whole are not facing up to it, and the University of London campuses are probably amongst the worst. None of the vice chancellors seem to be able to summon up the courage to deal with it,” Deech contends.
“They take refuge behind freedom of speech, without realizing that freedom of speech stops where hate language begins.” Deech is highly critical of Oxford, where she has spent much of her academic life. British universities must take stronger action to protect Jewish students and use every tool available to confront hate and division.
But the reaction by authorities has generally been one of appeasement. For years, police refused to enforce hate-crime laws. Universities tolerated mobs chanting for Israel’s destruction. Politicians equivocated in the name of “balance.”
For instance, in Birmingham, the West Midlands Police, which cover the city, classified as “high risk” a soccer match between Maccabi Tel Aviv and Aston Villa on Nov. 6. The police cited “safety” as the reason for banishing fans of the Tel Aviv team, which now seems to be standard when unjustified bans are put in place.
As the Jewish Leadership Council noted on X, “It is perverse that away fans should be banned from a football match because West Midlands Police can’t guarantee their safety.” Prior to the event, masked men hung “Zios Not Welcome” signs in the windows of shops or restaurants. “Zio,” of course, is a not-so-coded word for Israelis and/or Jews.
Over the past two years, the Board of Deputies of British Jews, the country’s main representative body for the Jewish community, has faced questions of their own about how to conduct debates on Israel. Last April, 36 of the board’s members signed an open letter, which was published in the Financial Times, protesting against “this most extremist of Israeli governments” and its failure to free the hostages held since October 7. “Israel’s soul is being ripped out and we fear for the future of the Israel we love,” the letter read.
Five members of the Board were suspended for instigating the letter. The Board’s Constitution Committee found that they had broken a code of conduct by creating the “misleading impression that this was an official document of the Board as a whole.” But for some, the letter represented a watershed moment where some of the conversations about Israel happening in private within the Jewish community could be had in public.
Board President Phil Rosenberg argued that there has long been healthy debate among the 300 deputies. His primary concern is the safety of British Jews but also how the community sees itself. “We have a whole range of activities to confront antisemitism,” he maintained. “But we also believe that the community needs not just to be seeing itself, and to be seen, through the prism of pain.
“It already wasn’t right that the only public commemoration of Jewish life in this country is Holocaust Memorial Day. And the only compulsory education is Holocaust education. Both of these things are incredibly important, but that’s not the whole experience of Jews.”
Given all this, a new political party divide is emerging among British Jews, with support rising fast for the left-wing Greens, now led by Zack Polanski, who is Jewish, and buoyed by younger and “anti-Zionist” Jews, while the older Orthodox turn to Nigel Farage’s upstart right wing Reform UK, as trust in the two main parties collapses.
Support for Labour and the Conservatives among British Jews had fallen to 58 per cent by July 2025 from nearly 84 per cent in 2020, according to a November 2025 report from the Institute of Jewish Policy Research (JPR), entitled “The End of Two-party Politics? Emerging Changes in the Political Preferences of British Jews.”
Labour has been typically favoured by more “secular” Jews while the Conservative party is traditionally preferred by more “observant” Jews. But for the first time in recent British Jewish history, support for the Labour and Conservative parties combined has fallen below 60 per cent.
“Reform UK is more likely to attract male, older, orthodox, and Zionist Jews; the Greens are more likely to attract younger, unaffiliated and anti-Zionist,” according to Dr. Jonathan Boyd, JPR’s executive director. The surge in Jewish support for Reform UK, a party whose rhetoric on immigration and nationalism would typically be expected to alienate minority communities, including Jews,” was described as “striking” by the JPR.
“Significant parts of the Jewish population may gravitate toward voices promising strength and clarity, regardless of ideological baggage” when mainstream parties were perceived as “weak or hostile,” the report added. “It may signal a structural shift in Jewish political identity.”
Three forces appear to be driving this fragmentation: the war in Gaza and its polarising effect on Jewish attitudes; rising antisemitism, culminating in the Heaton Park Synagogue terrorist attack; and a broader collapse of trust in mainstream parties.
“Together, these factors are pushing Jews toward parties that offer clarity — whether through populism or radical progressivism. If recent developments persist,” the report suggested, “British Jews are likely to become more politically polarised, prompting further internal community tensions.”
Henry Srebrnik is a professor of political science at the University of Prince Edward Island.
Features
So, what’s the deal with the honey scene in ‘Marty Supreme?’
By Olivia Haynie December 29, 2025 This story was originally published in the Forward. Click here to get the Forward’s free email newsletters delivered to your inbox.
There are a lot of jarring scenes in Marty Supreme, Josh Safdie’s movie about a young Jew in the 1950s willing to do anything to secure his spot in table tennis history. There’s the one where Marty (Timothée Chalamet) gets spanked with a ping-pong paddle; there’s the one where a gas station explodes. And the one where Marty, naked in a bathtub, falls through the floor of a cheap motel. But the one that everybody online seems to be talking about is a flashback of an Auschwitz story told by Marty’s friend and fellow ping-ponger Béla Kletzki (Géza Röhrig, best known for his role as a Sonderkommando in Son of Saul).
Kletzki tells the unsympathetic ink tycoon Milton Rockwell (Kevin O’Leary) about how the Nazis, impressed by his table tennis skills, spared his life and recruited him to disarm bombs. One day, while grappling with a bomb in the woods, Kletzki stumbled across a honeycomb. He smeared the honey across his body and returned to the camp, where he let his fellow prisoners lick it off his body. The scene is a sensory nightmare, primarily shot in close-ups of wet tongues licking sticky honey off Kletzki’s hairy body. For some, it was also … funny?
Many have reported that the scene has been triggering a lot of laughter in their theaters. My audience in Wilmington, North Carolina, certainly had a good chuckle — with the exception of my mother, who instantly started sobbing. I sat in stunned silence, unsure at first what to make of the sharp turn the film had suddenly taken. One post on X that got nearly 6,000 likes admonished Safdie for his “insane Holocaust joke.” Many users replied that the scene was in no way meant to be funny, with one even calling it “the most sincere scene in the whole movie.”
For me, the scene shows the sheer desperation of those in the concentration camps, as well as the self-sacrifice that was essential to survival. And yet many have interpreted it as merely shock humor.
Laughter could be understood as an inevitable reaction to discomfort and shock at a scene that feels so out of place in what has, up to that point, been a pretty comedic film. The story is sandwiched between Marty’s humorous attempts to embarrass Rockwell and seduce his wife. Viewers may have mistaken the scene as a joke since the film’s opening credits sequence of sperm swimming through fallopian tubes gives the impression you will be watching a comedy interspersed with some tense ping-pong playing.
The reaction could also be part of what some in the movie theater industry are calling the “laugh epidemic.” In The New York Times, Marie Solis explored the inappropriate laughter in movie theaters that seems to be increasingly common. The rise of meme culture and the dissolution of clear genres (Marty Supreme could be categorized as somewhere between drama and comedy), she writes, have primed audiences to laugh at moments that may not have been meant to be funny.
The audience’s inability to process the honey scene as sincere may also be a sign of a society that has become more disconnected from the traumas of the past. It would not be the first time that people, unable to comprehend the horrors of the Holocaust, have instead derided the tales of abuse as pure fiction. But Kletzki’s story is based on the real experiences of Alojzy Ehrlich, a ping-pong player imprisoned at Auschwitz. The scene is not supposed to be humorous trauma porn — Safdie has called it a “beautiful story” about the “camaraderie” found within the camps. It also serves as an important reminder of all that Marty is fighting for.
The events of the film take place only seven years after the Holocaust, and the macabre honey imagery encapsulates the dehumanization the Jews experienced. Marty is motivated not just by a desire to prove himself as an athlete and rise above what his uncle and mother expect of him, but above what the world expects of him as a Jew. His drive to reclaim Jewish pride is further underscored when he brings back a piece of an Egyptian pyramid to his mother, telling her, “We built this.”
Without understanding this background, the honey scene will come off as out of place and ridiculous. And the lengths Marty is willing to go to to make something of himself cannot be fully appreciated. The film’s description on the review-app Letterboxd says Marty Supreme is about one man who “goes to hell and back in pursuit of greatness.” But behind Marty is the story of a whole people who have gone through hell; they too are trying to find their way back.
Olivia Haynie is an editorial fellow at the Forward.
This story was originally published on the Forward.