Dr. Lilian Steiner isn’t really listening.

Yes, she hears the thunderous strains of the Talking Heads’ “Psycho Killer” playing from an upstairs neighbor’s apartment above her psychiatry practice in a tony arrondissement of Paris. She is committed to recording the sessions on mini-discs for future reference, even if she has to bug her digital native son to buy replacements on Amazon. But when a patient dies from an apparent suicide, without any of the usual warning signs, she knows she’s missing something.

French director Rebecca Zlotowski’s A Private Life, a semi-dark comic mystery takes Lilian out of her routine. The film has the therapist, played by a captivating Jodie Foster, principalement en français, working to solve the case of her patient, a middle-aged German language teacher named Paula. When Paula’s daughter, Valérie (Luàna Bajrami), approaches Lilian with what she believes is a message, Lilian listens back to their sessions and begins to suspect foul play — i.e., murder. Soon she’s sleuthing around, and hooking up with her ex-husband Gaby (Daniel Auteuil).

Things take a turn for the sinister when Lilian shows up to pay her respects — later to be thrown out by Paula’s irate widower, Simon (Mathieu Amalric). Shortly after arriving, Lilian removes a sheet from a mirror, and a woman warns her that in doing so she will “awaken the dybbuk.”

The moment of cultural unawareness is telling if not entirely plausible. While Lilian is Jewish, and establishes her knowledge of the custom of burying a body quickly, she’s firmly secular. We see her slurping back an oyster and learn she didn’t circumcise her now-adult son, Julien (Vincent Lacoste). For whatever reason, she didn’t get the mirror memo. What she does detect, perhaps more acutely than most as an American expat, is antisemitism.

A hypnotist Lilian consults to fix her newly compulsive crying informs her that Freud stopped practicing hypnotism when he realized it was less “interesting” financially than the longer process of psychoanalysis. Lilian wastes no time dubbing this remark “borderline antisemitic.”

But their session produces a real breakthrough, linked to an infamous episode in the Holocaust. In a surreal sequence, Lilian sees herself in the body of a male cellist in 1942 Paris, witnessing a raid of a concert hall by the police in what can be assumed to be the Vel d’Hiv Roundup, the mass arrest and deportation of Paris’ Jews.

In the trance, Lilian sees Nazis in the house seats, a woman who looks exactly like Paula is playing next to her whispering something indistinct, Simon conducts, and her son Julien’s face is on the body of a militiaman — not a Nazi, she insists, but a French collaborator. Indeed, they were the ones who carried out the arrests. When Lilian returns to her tape of her hypnosis to reenter the scene, she finds more clues, including a postcard that takes her out of Paris for a stakeout. (Zlotowski co-wrote the film with author Anne Berest, whose autofictional book The Postcard uncovers her family’s story in the Holocaust.)

When Lilian brings this hypnotic vision up at Julien’s birthday dinner — noting his interest in German at school — he scoffs at the story and calls her paranoid. Gaby is shocked that Lilian, a woman of science, would suddenly buy into woo-woo notions of past lives. She really, truly, seems to believe her vision holds the key to Paula’s death, while her French-born family takes it all in stride.

Why, then, is history erupting in this modern story, a kind of continental arthouse spin on Netflix’s Murder Mystery franchise?

As motives are clarified and red herrings reveal themselves, the Pétain years Lilian glimpsed show themselves as very much alive in the present. A disgruntled patient draws a swastika by her office: “A very small one,” he says in his defense, “by the doorbell.”

Zlotowski took on the period just before Nazi occupation in her 2016 film Planetarium, a sort of roman à clef about persecuted Jewish French film producer Bernard Natan. In Private Life, as in her films Dear Prudence and Other People’s Children, Zlotowski masterfully sketches a French Jewish family and all its messy intersections in a society that privileges the principle of laïcité, the state religion of secularism. (I can’t account for her choice to have Paula’s family say kaddish over her dead body at their home before the funeral, but the rest feels right and an autopsy did delay burial.)

Long on style, with scarlet giftboxes and blood on white snow that reminded me of Resnais’ Stavisky and mirror shots that recalled Joseph Losey’s Monsieur Klein, the film has something elemental on its mind that seems inseparable from the Jewish question. It ponders how Jews may continue on in a culture that rejects them with some regularity, even as Lilian says at one point — and this holds mostly true of the cast of characters — “everyone here is Jewish.”

What Lilian picks up on is the “very small” swastika on the national fabric, a country still haunted by the Vichy regime. It’s a dybbuk that has yet to be exorcized, and like all dybbuks its business is unfinished.

The post In a stylish mystery, Jodie Foster releases the dybbuk of French Jewish identity appeared first on The Forward.

Stephen Spencer Pittman, the suspect in a Saturday arson attack at a historic Mississippi synagogue, targeted Beth Israel Congregation because of its “Jewish ties,” according to the FBI. In an interview, he called the shul the “synagogue of Satan,” and his recent social media posts included an antisemitic cartoon.

But on a Christian fitness site registered to Pittman and linked across his social media profiles, Hebrew is liberally sprinkled throughout workout advice and scripture study.

That a man who would burn a synagogue would also be so interested in Hebrew language study, or pepper it throughout his Christian fitness site, may seem surprising. But understanding the reference points of Pittman’s fitness website helps explain the cultural touchstones and media diet he was likely consuming, one that may have influenced his thinking.

Pittman’s site, called One Purpose, advertises “scripture-backed fitness.” It refers to its users as “brothers” who are building their “temple” — women are not mentioned and presumably not the target audience. Instead, it pairs a veneer of biblical truth and Christianity with rhetoric about masculinity.

At the top of the homepage is the tetragrammaton in Hebrew, one of the biblical names for God. The site also says that it has modeled its fitness program after the “biblical patriarchs,” listing some of the oldest men in the bible — Adam, Methuselah, Noah, and others — with their Hebrew names. The site also notes several Jewish fast days, including lesser-known days usually only observed by Orthodox Jews, such as the Fast of Daniel and the Fast of Esther, again with their Hebrew names.

A post on Pittman’s Instagram about a “Christian diet/testosterone optimization” advises eating only raw milk and eggs as well as limiting oneself to “God-made fats,” listing the Hebrew words for oil and butter. Clicking through the site’s instructions for its fitness regimen brings the user snippets of Hebrew vocabulary, such as derekh, meaning path in Hebrew, and ma’atzor, meaning obstacle, scattered among copy about striving to live up to one’s true manliness and strength as ordained by God.

But beyond the biblical sheen, the site — which costs $99 a month to access in full, or $599 for the year — is full of the kind of “grindset” hustle culture advice on masculinity, charisma and workouts that regularly populates the so-called manosphere. Advertised among the premium features are training modules for “looks-maxxing,” which promises a “complete aesthetic optimization” and “test-maxxing,” which is not about acing exams but instead about raising testosterone levels.

This rhetoric is common among influencers widely regarded as proponents of toxic masculinity, including self-proclaimed misogynist Andrew Tate, who was arrested for sex trafficking in Romania; Myron Gaines, who wrote a book titled Women Deserve Less, and even Canadian psychologist Jordan Peterson, a manosphere elder who regularly inveighs against feminism. They often alternate between “negging” — internet slang for insulting — their participants, and pumping them up, promising a whole new life full of sex and money if they follow the advice of these influences. If they don’t, they will be weak “simps” or “cucks.”

One Purpose uses similar tactics at each click, just with a religious overlay. Users are offered the choice to “take up the cross” and “walk in the purpose God created for you,” or else, if they do not sign up for the site’s weight-lifting, diet and prayer program, to “let your temple fall into ruin” and “drift further from God’s purpose.”

Over the past few years, much of the manosphere has increasingly merged with Christian influencers, particularly traditionalist Catholics, or “tradcaths,” and the TheoBros, adherents of Reformed Christian theology. The overlap is borne largely out of shared values over women’s subservience and male dominance — which manosphere leaders such as Tate believe is biological, and TheoBro leaders such as Joel Webbon believe is biblical.

Many of the TheoBros, such as Webbon or Brian Sauvé, run YouTube series and podcasts where they also discuss their lifting routines and beard care, aligning with the manosphere values. And these TheoBros are often openly antisemitic, viewing Jews as Satanists who have rejected Jesus, and endorsing numerous antisemitic conspiracy theories, including Holocaust denial. Manosphere leaders including Tate and Gaines have done the same; Webbon and Gaines have also both hosted outspoken antisemite Nick Fuentes on their shows.

This manosphere interest among Christian influencers has grown alongside an increased attention to Jewish practice and the Hebrew Bible among many Christians, who see it as a way to grow closer to Jesus’ own practices and add a sense of mystery and spirituality via Jewish rituals that are unfamiliar, and feel esoteric, to most Christians.

Hebrew, in these contexts, largely serves to add a sense of authenticity to Christian practice — a way to advertise that their version of Christianity is ancient, from the time of Jesus. But it’s a mistake to see this interest in Hebrew and Jewish texts as philosemitism; while it sometimes manifests as friendliness toward Jews, it often has little relationship to Jewish people today.

Pittman’s One Purpose does not contain the overtly antisemitic or misogynist language that many TheoBro and manosphere influencers use. But the rhetoric of his biblical fitness site echoes their content, placing itself firmly in the same ecosystem. Its subtext aligns with a world rife with conspiracy theories about Jewish governmental control and Satanic rituals.

We don’t know yet exactly what Pittman’s media diet was. But his biblical fitness site’s imitation of Christian masculinity influencers indicates he likely consumed a lot of content that, alongside lifting routines or nutrition advice, contained antisemitic conspiracy theories. On his Instagram, he follows numerous accounts that describe themselves as a “soldier of Christ” or a “watchman for Christ,” some of which also contain conspiracy theories. When the beliefs on what it means to be a “real man” and a good Christian combine, they paint a vision of Christian masculinity that requires defeating Satan — and Satan, in this case, is the Jews. As Pittman said, according to an affidavit, he was due for a “homerun.”

The post The Mississippi synagogue arson suspect has a Christian fitness site. Here’s what that tell us appeared first on The Forward.

(JTA) — A Jewish education group seeking to create the nation’s first publicly funded religious Jewish charter school took its case to Oklahoma’s charter school board Monday, reviving a high-stakes constitutional battle over whether government money can be used to run faith-based public schools.

The National Ben Gamla Jewish Charter School Foundation, founded by Peter Deutsch, a former Florida Democratic congressmember known for endorsing Donald Trump in 2024, has applied to open a statewide virtual Jewish charter school serving grades K-12 beginning in the 2026-27 school year. 

The proposal would integrate Oklahoma academic standards with daily Jewish religious instruction, including Hebrew, Jewish texts, holidays and religious practice.

The Oklahoma Statewide Charter School Board did not vote Monday but is expected to decide as early as next month whether the school can move forward. 

Supporters say approval would give families a religious values-based option within the public school system. Critics argue it would violate the legal principle separating church and state and set a precedent that could reshape public education nationwide.

The proposal comes months after the U.S. Supreme Court deadlocked 4-4 in a case involving another Oklahoma religious charter school, St. Isidore of Seville Catholic Virtual School. That tie left in place an Oklahoma Supreme Court ruling that charter schools — which are publicly funded but privately run — are “state actors” and therefore must remain secular. (The deadlock resulted from  a recusal by Justice Amy Coney Barrett, who had ties to the Catholic charter school.)

Ben Gamla and its lawyers at Becket, a conservative religious-liberty firm, are seeking to reopen that fight.

“The opportunity is probably the best in Oklahoma of any state in the United States of America today,” Deutsch, who was wearing a kippah, told board members Monday. “And that’s really related to your statute and the implementation of that statute.”

Becket said in a statement after the meeting that Oklahoma is wrongly excluding religious schools from its charter program. 

“Religious schools cannot be shut out of state programs just because they are religious,” said Eric Baxter, a senior counsel at Becket who represents Ben Gamla.

Deutsch, who founded a network of Hebrew-English charter schools in Florida nearly two decades ago, told the board that his schools have consistently ranked among the top public schools in that state. Those Florida schools, however, operate as strictly secular charters, teaching Hebrew language and Jewish culture without religious instruction.

The Oklahoma proposal is different.

Ben Gamla’s application describes the school as being organized “for educational, charitable, and religious purposes” and calls for daily Jewish religious studies alongside secular coursework.Teachers and staff would be expected to uphold Jewish religious standards in their professional conduct, with an additional expectation placed on those who are Jewish. 

“Employees who are Jewish are expected to be faithful to the Jewish community and adhere to the teachings of the people and to the Torah in their lives,” the application submitted by Ben Gamla says. 

Deutsch said that while Oklahoma has a relatively small Jewish population, many families — Jewish and non-Jewish — are seeking a values-based education.

“There are a lot of parents that are looking for a sort of a faith-based, rigorous academic program,” he told the board. “But there was nothing there.”

He said he had previously explored opening a physical Jewish charter school in Oklahoma but concluded that the numbers would not work. A virtual model, he said, would allow the school to operate with as few as 30 or 40 students and reach families across the state.

Board members asked Deutsch how the new Oklahoma nonprofit would relate to his Florida charter network. Deutsch said the two entities are legally separate but linked through him.

“They are separate corporations. They’re separate 501(c)(3)s,” he said. “The link is me.”

Deutsch, who his  is one of the three directors currently serving on the board of Ben Gamla. The other two are Brett Farley, who was a member of St. Isidore’s board of directors, and Ezra Husney, a New York lawyer.

He also said a nonprofit backer has committed to cover any startup deficits and that he plans to seek federal charter-school startup grants. 

He didn’t name the nonprofit, but Ben Gamla’s application includes a letter pledging financial support signed by Rabbi Raphael Butler, president of the Afikim Foundation, a New York based nonprofit aiming to “innovate and implement high impact global Jewish projects.” Butler is also president of Olami, a global Orthodox Jewish outreach group. 

In a press release issued after the meeting, Becket framed the case as one of religious discrimination, saying the state is required under the U.S. Constitution to treat religious and secular schools equally in public programs.

Last year’s Supreme Court deadlock in the Catholic case left the constitutional question unresolved. Conservative justices have signaled sympathy for the idea that states may not exclude religious organizations from generally available public benefits — a line of reasoning Becket hopes to extend to charter schools.

“Our goal is to win here at the board, and if that doesn’t happen, we will bring a case in federal court,” Baxter told local media after the meeting.

Church-state separation advocates say the plan would cross a clear constitutional line.

Americans United for Separation of Church and State, which led the legal fight against the Catholic school, has already filed public-records requests seeking communications between Ben Gamla and the charter board and has signaled it is prepared to sue.

“Despite their loss earlier this year in the U.S. Supreme Court, religious extremists once again are trying to undermine our country’s promise of church-state separation by forcing Oklahoma taxpayers to fund a religious public school. Not on our watch,” Rachel Laser, the group’s president, told the Jewish Telegraphic Agency in November. 

In Oklahoma, home to fewer than 9,000 Jews, the proposal has drawn skepticism from local Jewish leaders, some of whom say they learned about it from reporters rather than organizers. Rabbi Daniel Kaiman of Congregation B’nai Emunah in Tulsa told JTA last month that no one in the community had been consulted. “I was surprised to be learning about it through a reporter,” he said.

Kaiman said he worries about a national legal fight being waged through a tiny Jewish community with delicate interfaith and political relationships. Oklahoma already has Jewish day schools and synagogue programs, he added. “I don’t know who this new proposal is for,” he said.

The post Oklahoma board to vote on application for religious Jewish charter school, teeing up potential battle appeared first on The Forward.