Uncategorized
2022 was a big year for Jews in the arts. Here’s what happened on screen and stage.
(JTA) – Once more for the record, Dave Chappelle: Jews don’t actually run Hollywood.
But anyone paying attention to pop culture in 2022 saw a lot of Jewish creativity. This year saw several big, distinctly Jewish releases across multiple media, ranging from acclaimed movies to popular TV shows to theater, books and viral TikToks. And amid endless debates over who has the right to tell (and be cast in) Jewish stories, it was notable just how many of the biggest pop-culture events of the year fervently embraced Jewish identity.
Here were the biggest Jewish cultural releases of 2022:
Growing up Jewish at the movies
From left to right: Paul Dano, Mateo Zoryna Francis-Deford and Michelle Williams as fictionalized members of Steven Spielberg’s family in his film “The Fabelmans.” (2022 Universal Pictures and Amblin Entertainment)
Two of the year’s big art-house film releases were autobiographical portrayals of their directors’ Jewish upbringings. In “The Fabelmans,” Steven Spielberg’s account of how he became a filmmaker, a teenager in 1950s America navigates a fracturing Jewish family and antisemitism at school. And in “Armageddon Time,” James Gray’s retelling of his Reagan-era childhood (with appearances from the Trumps), a Jewish family in Queens, New York tries to assimilate into the WASPy upper class — while their young son brushes aside the needs of his Black friend.
‘Tár’ and teshuvah
While the families in “The Fabelmans” and “Armageddon Time” were obviously Jewish, Cate Blanchett’s monstrous fictional conductor in “Tár” was not — which made it all the more surprising when the film not-so-subtly incorporated several Jewish themes into its story of artistic success and karmic retribution. The acclaimed drama looks to make big inroads this awards season as it gives audiences a de facto Hebrew lesson.
A ‘Rehearsal’ for living Jewishly
Miriam Eskenasy, a cantor and Portland-based Hebrew and b’nei mitzvah tutor, had a pivotal moment in HBO’s meta-reality show “The Rehearsal,” created by and starring Nathan Fielder, left. (Screenshot)
Gonzo comedian Nathan Fielder staged elaborate simulations of everyday life in “The Rehearsal,” a new HBO series that proved to be among the buzziest TV shows of the year — and whose late-season pivot to discussions of Jewish parenting caught just about everyone by surprise. As the Internet lit up with conversations about Miriam Eskenasy, the Hebrew tutor Fielder hired for his fake Jewish son, JTA spoke to Miriam herself about the various questions of Jewish identity explored by the show.
‘The U.S. and the Holocaust’ under a microscope
The latest Ken Burns PBS history documentary, relaying how the United States responded to the horrors of the Holocaust both on the homefront and in wartime, ignited a fierce national reckoning over America’s historic treatment of Jews and outsiders. Burns and his Jewish co-directors told JTA they hoped to communicate an important lesson to the country about antisemitism and xenophobia that could challenge America’s founding myths.
TV had Jewish conflicts, with heart
Laura Niemi as Beth Strauss and Steve Carell as Alan Strauss in “The Patient.” (Suzanne Tenner/FX)
Narrative TV saw storylines about Jews clashing with each other and bonding with unexpected allies. FX/Hulu’s thriller “The Patient” dug into an inter-family divide between Reform parents and Orthodox children, even as the show weathered criticism for its casting of non-Jew Steve Carell as a Jewish therapist. Another Hulu show, Ramy Youssef’s “Ramy,” entered its third season with a storyline set in Israel and an Orthodox Jewish supporting character — notable for a series that focuses on a Muslim American protagonist.
A Nazi gold train on ‘Russian Doll’
Natasha Lyonne’s time-hopping Netflix series returned for a second season this year, reaching deep into the past to find Lyonne’s protagonist Nadia unearthing generations of Jewish trauma in her family. It all culminated with her exploration of a Hungarian “gold train” filled with treasures the Nazis supposedly looted from the country’s Jews during wartime. Lyonne was drawing on real-life Holocaust history for the plot, suggesting that Jewish inherited trauma remains with us to this day.
‘And Just Like That,’ some uncomfortable Jewish jokes
HBO’s “Sex and the City” follow-up was largely viewed by fans of the original as a fascinating trainwreck. Jewish viewers saw something else: a throughline of bizarre Jewish jokes, from a midseason flirtation with a Holocaust denier to a season-finale “They Mitzvah” that ultimately didn’t happen.
‘Funny Girl,’ serious cast conflicts
Beanie Feldstein as Fanny Brice during the opening night curtain call for the musical “Funny Girl” on Broadway at The August Wilson Theatre in New York City, April 24, 2022. (Bruce Glikas/WireImage)
A classically Jewish Broadway show became the centerpiece of the year’s messiest backstage drama. “Funny Girl,” the hotly anticipated revival of the biographical musical about Jewish comedian Fanny Brice that initially launched the career of Barbra Streisand, debuted in spring to sky-high expectations. Lead Beanie Feldstein told JTA that taking on the role of Brice was “incredibly meaningful for me as a Jewish woman.” But following poor reviews and ticket sales, Feldstein exited with gusto — and was replaced by Lea Michele, the “Glee” star with Jewish ancestry who’d spent much of her career openly pining for the role of Fanny.
Tom Stoppard’s ‘Leopoldstadt’ puts the Shoah on stage
While Tom Stoppard would make just about anybody’s shortlist of the world’s most influential playwrights, he had never before explored his Jewish background onstage — until this play. Stoppard’s sprawling new historical drama, featuring a massive cast depicting several generations of Austrian Jews before and after the Holocaust, was Broadway’s most hotly debated play this year — and, he told JTA, its themes of assimilation and lost Jewish histories are ideas he found to be rich and poignant.
Non-Jewish authors explore Jewish legacies
Two seismic novels this year dealt in controversial ways with traumatic Jewish history, both written by European non-Jews. The Polish Nobel laureate Olga Tokarchuk delivered the English translation of “The Books of Jacob,” a 1,000-page doorstopper steeped in the tale of false messiah Jacob Frank, while Irish author John Boyne delivered “All The Broken Places,” a sequel to his infamous Holocaust fable “The Boy in the Striped Pajamas” — as he defended the first against charges that it was implausible and tone deaf.
Jewish comedians stuck out their shtick
Ariel Elias makes her TV debut on “Jimmy Kimmel Live,” Oct. 24, 2022. (Screenshot from YouTube)
Stand-up comedy could be a scary place for Jews this year — see the aforementioned Dave Chappelle controversy. But a new generation of Jewish jokers still found ways to assert themselves, whether it was Ariel Elias parlaying a confrontation with a heckler into a very Jewish “Jimmy Kimmel Live” set or Ari Shaffir’s YouTube special about leaving Judaism, but not his Jewishness, behind. The New York Jewish Week was among the sponsors of a “Chosen Comedy Festival” that drew 4,000 people to Coney Island for a night of unapologetically Jewish standup by the likes of Modi, Jessica Kirson and Elon Gold. Meanwhile, British Jewish comic David Baddiel opened up a giant can of worms by playing it straight with his TV documentary “Jews Don’t Count,” based on his book about the ways he believes progressive circles have disregarded the scourge of antisemitism.
The Miami Boys Choir lit up the Internet
The Miami Boys Choir went viral on TikTok and Twitter, creating a new generation of fans of the Orthodox pop group.
(Screenshots via Twitter, TikTok/Design by Jackie Hajdenberg)
If you recently found yourself moved to tears by clips of Orthodox boys singing harmonized Hebrew pop songs on TikTok, you weren’t alone. The Miami Boys Choir became a breakout viral sensation this fall, with millions of newly minted fans celebrating their besuited swagger — and a few of the group’s alums getting in on the fun, too. MBC’s success was welcomed by Orthodox Jews in every corner of the Internet, who often feel sidelined or misrepresented by their depictions in popular culture.
A new Museum of Broadway is a Jewish hall of fame
An exhibit space at the Museum of Broadway evokes the scenery from the Mel Brooks musical “The Producers.” (NYJW)
Delayed by COVID, the Museum of Broadway finally opened in the heart of New York’s Theater District. And while it doesn’t go out of its way to center the Jewish contributions to the Great White Way, the work of Jewish composers, lyricists, playwrights, producers and choreographers is everywhere, from exhibits dedicated to Rodgers and Hammerstein and Stephen Sondheim to tributes to Mel Brooks, Tony Kushner and the late, great cartoonist Al Hirschfeld.
Other Jewish stories from 2022 now available to stream:
13: The Musical (Netflix)
Ahed’s Knee (VOD rental)
American Masters: The Adventures of Saul Bellow (PBS)
The Calling (Peacock)
Cha Cha Real Smooth (Apple TV+)
Heirs to the Land (Netflix)
Hallelujah: Leonard Cohen, A Journey, A Song (VOD rental)
Idina Menzel: Which Way to the Stage (Disney+)
Image of Victory (Netflix)
Jackass Forever (Paramount+)
Last Flight Home (Paramount+)
Ridley Road (PBS)
Shababnikim (Chaiflicks)
Yosi, the Regretful Spy (Amazon Prime)
—
The post 2022 was a big year for Jews in the arts. Here’s what happened on screen and stage. appeared first on Jewish Telegraphic Agency.
Uncategorized
Muslim and Sephardic Jewish college students are connecting over shared heritage
Joseph Pool, a senior at Rollins College in Florida, grew up hearing his Moroccan-born grandparents describe Mimouna, a traditional Moroccan Jewish celebration marking the return to eating chametz after Passover. Because Jewish families had cleared their homes of chametz for the holiday, Muslim neighbors would bring over fresh flour, butter, and milk, and together they would enjoy a chametz-filled meal.
Amid rising campus tensions after October 7, Pool decided to host a Mimouna event of his own at Rollins College, and Muslim students showed up in droves.
“I spent years sleeping over at my grandparents’ house and hearing stories about the connection Muslims and Jews shared in Morocco,” Pool said. Seeing Muslim classmates embrace the celebration, he recalled thinking: “Wow, this is still the case today. There is still this connection ability here.”
At a moment when Jewish-Muslim tensions have intensified on campuses nationwide, some Sephardic and Muslim students say shared cultural heritage, rather than formal interfaith programming, is opening unexpected space for connection.
SAMi (Sephardic American Mizrahi Initiative) hosts Sephardic cultural programming on 16 college campuses across the country, including Persian music karaoke nights, hamsa painting events, and Mimouna celebrations. According to Manashe Khaimov, SAMi’s founder and CEO, roughly 10% of the 6,000 students the organization has engaged are Muslim.
The events are not intended to be spaces for interfaith dialogue, and that is a big part of their appeal. “Students don’t want to show up to an interfaith event unless [they’re] interested in political dialogue,” said Khaimov. Rather, students who are just looking for a place to engage with their culture show up to listen to the kind of music they grew up with, eat familiar foods, and hear Arabic or Farsi spoken.
For many Muslim students, SAMi events “smell the way it smells at home” as opposed to many Jewish spaces on college campuses that can feel “foreign” or “alienating,” said Khaimov. “For most of the Muslim students,” he said, “this is the first time even walking into Hillel spaces.”
Emily Nisimov, a Bukharian student from Queens College who organized Sephardic heritage events on her campus with SAMi, said, “The point of the events originally was to spread love and intimacy between Jewish students.” To her surprise, Muslim students started showing up. “Maybe they did just come for the food,” she said, “but the fact is that they stayed and they interacted with us and they tried to find a middle ground, which I was really impressed and shocked by.”
These connections are not limited to organized programming. Across campuses, Muslim students say friendships with Sephardic and Mizrahi peers have reshaped their understanding of Judaism, and Jewish students say the friendships have changed them, too.
Ali Mohsin Bozdar, a Muslim student at Springfield College who met Sephardic students through Interfaith America’s BRAID fellowship, said, “Jewish people from Middle Eastern backgrounds — most of the culture is similar. The food, the music, the language. I found that really fascinating,” he said. “It automatically binds you.”
Yishmael Columna, a Moroccan Jewish student and SAMi organizer at Florida International University, said the exchange has been mutual. “After Oct. 7”, he said, “it’s easy to give in to hate.” But getting to know Muslim peers complicated that instinct. “I wouldn’t be able to form opinions on many things as well as I do now if I didn’t have these conversations with them,” he said.
Sofia Houir, a Moroccan Muslim senior at Columbia University, said she had never met a Jewish person before attending college. Forming close friendships with Sephardic students on Columbia’s campus changed that. “Having friends who are Middle Eastern Jews definitely made Judaism more personal to me,” she said. “You can read about Judaism, you can study it, but talking to friends about how they grew up made me realize that, regardless of our religion, we’re all North African or Middle Eastern.”
Sofia formed a particularly close bond with an Iraqi Israeli student, Orpaz Zamir, during her time at Columbia, which she says deeply influenced her decision to travel to Israel for the first time. “Orpaz played a huge role in me going to Israel, just because I’m super close to him. And I really, really wanted to discover his culture, and to discover his country,” she said.
But that decision came with consequences.
Sofia said that her friendships with Jewish and Israeli students as well as her decision to travel to Israel caused peers in the Muslim and Arab communities on campus to stop speaking to her.
“I had some heated arguments with people who basically argued with me as if I was representing the Israeli government,” she said. “The frustrating thing was that they never had a conversation with me about it. They just presumed that me going was me validating Netanyahu’s politics or betraying the Palestinians.”
Nisimov said campus tensions at Queens College, part of New York City’s public university system, have not disappeared simply because of a heightened awareness of shared culture.
After October 7, she said, “A lot of claims were made that we should go back to where we came from.” “We tried to explain to them — just like you, we came from the same spot — but they didn’t want to listen.”
Even so, she said, her personal friendships have endured outside the realm of discourse on the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. “My Muslim friend and I, we’re not really on the political level of conversation,” she said. “But we have plenty of conversations about our cultures and our religions and the differences and similarities.”
Rethinking Jewish Whiteness
For some students, these relationships have also challenged assumptions about Jewish identity and, thus, the tenor of political conversations.
Mian Muhammad Abdul Hamid, a Muslim student from Syracuse University, told the Forward that he “thinks the majority” of Muslim students on his college campus believe Jews only come from Europe. “When people think Jewish, the first thing that pops up is European.”
Bozdar agreed. “When I met these people, it confirmed for me that there are Jews from the Middle East,” he said. “Until you meet people, nothing is for sure.”
Columna recalled participating in a tabling event about Israel shortly after Oct. 7, when a Muslim student approached him to talk. The two later became friends. Weeks later, Columna asked why he had approached him rather than the other nearby Jewish students.
“He told me, ‘I decided to talk to you because, in contrast to the Ashkenazi Jews nearby, you were the only one who looked brown,” Columna said.
“I feel that sometimes the reason why these conversations do not work is because Muslim students don’t feel that Jews are even part of the Middle East,” said Columna. “Once you break that wall, and you find a common ground,” he said, “it becomes a more productive conversation.”
Zamir, an Iraqi Jewish student at Columbia University, described a similar experience. Though initially nervous about enrolling amid campus tensions, he said, “I never felt I was being attacked for my views.”
A Muslim friend later told him it was because he was seen as “from the region.”
“If you are Mizrahi,” Zamir said, “Muslim students respect what you say a bit more because if you’re from the region, you’re entitled to be there.”
But that dynamic also raises uncomfortable questions about which Jewish students are seen as having legitimate perspectives on campus.
“There’s this extreme position that Ashkenazi Jews shouldn’t be there or shouldn’t have this view because they’re ‘colonizers,’ but you’re okay because you’re part of the region,” he said.
“Unfortunately, this is the case, but it also makes my interactions with them easier,” he added.
While several students said their conversations about their shared background remain at the cultural level rather than getting political, Pool believes shared meals can create space for conversations that lean on these shared identities.
“If you share a meal with someone, you start with something in common,” he said. “You have the same food, maybe then you have the same family tradition of how to cook this food. And then suddenly, when you’re talking about politics, you can talk about just a political issue versus it being your entire identity.”
The post Muslim and Sephardic Jewish college students are connecting over shared heritage appeared first on The Forward.
Uncategorized
The one Jewish value everyone should hold dear in the age of AI
As friends, relatives and even colleagues dive headlong into our AI future, I’ve been stuck nervously on the platform’s edge. I’m not a skeptic of technology by nature, but by experience. I’ve watched too many shiny new toys come along, promising to make society smarter or better connected, only to become superspreaders of confusion, alienation and disenfranchisement.
So when you tell me a machine can summarize any book, draw any picture or write any email, my first thought is going to be, What could possibly go wrong?
This, too, was the reaction of the Haredi rabbis who declared a communal fast over AI last month.
“If at the push of a button, I can get a hold of a d’var torah for my Shabbos meal from AI, to us, that’s a problem,” a Haredi leader told me at the time. “No, no — I want you to open the book and read it and come up with a question and come up with an answer. That’s part of what’s holy about learning Torah. It’s not just end result. It’s the process.”
Curious about their logic, I spent some time tracking down Lakewood’s gedolim to learn more. This was no straightforward task — I found it easier to get a hold of their wives than the great rabbis themselves. Even at dinner hour, these titans of Torah study were still in the beit midrash. But eventually I got through to three — thanks to my cousin Jeffrey, who knew a rav who knew a rav — and that was fortunate, because I came away with the Jewish skeleton key to our brave new world.
That key is the Jewish value of עֲמֵילוּת (ameilut), or toil. As far as Jewish values go, ameilut is an obscure one. It lacks the celebrity swagger of its better-known peers like chesed and tzedakah or the political power of tikkun olam. It was never associated with a biblical matriarch or carved into a golem’s forehead. Yet I believe it is just as crucial. Yes, toiling is a mitzvah. And in the age of AI, ameilut can be a human road map.
The word’s root appears a couple dozen times in the Hebrew Bible — unsurprisingly, it’s a recurring theme in Job — but its salience comes not from the Torah but from commentary on Leviticus 26:3, which establishes ameilut as a sacred endeavor. When God implores Israel to “walk with” the commandments, Rashi, an 11th century rabbi whose commentaries are considered authoritative, reinterpreted this to mean that God wants Jews to be ameilim b’torah — toiling in Torah study. He is reinterpreting God’s command that we walk and move forward to also mean that we should take time to stand still, turn over (and over) the same words to find new meaning and view getting stuck as a sign of progress.
For Haredim — who pronounce it ameilus — the notion that struggle can be its own reward underpins a life spent poring over sefarim in the beit midrash (and missing phone calls from the Jewish press). It follows that ChatGPT, which transforms knowledge from something developed to something consumed, is anathema to their approach. They’ve realized that making learning easy has actually made learning hard.
To be sure, the goals of the Haredi world are not exactly the same as mine. Those communities are famously insular, wary of the internet and especially cognizant of secular society’s pernicious influence. I’m basically the opposite: I love to mix it up (including with Haredi Jews) and am extremely online. A little narishkeit is good for the soul, as far as I can tell.
But I’ve found that ameilut-maxxing translates pretty well to non-religious life, too. It’s an imperative to embrace the challenge. As a notoriously limited chef, I’m now toiling in cookbooks; as a writer, I can cherish the blank page. Reframing the hard part as the good part, then, is a reminder that the toil is actually our divine right. Because ameilut is something AI can’t experience, replicate or understand. It is the very essence of what it means to be alive.
The post The one Jewish value everyone should hold dear in the age of AI appeared first on The Forward.
Uncategorized
Mistrial Declared in Case of Students Charged After Stanford Anti-Israel Protests
FILE PHOTO: A student attends an event at a protest encampment in support of Palestinians at Stanford University during the ongoing conflict between Israel and the Palestinian Islamist group Hamas, in Stanford, California U.S., April 26, 2024. Photo: REUTERS/Carlos Barria/File Photo
A judge declared a mistrial on Friday in a case of five current and former Stanford University students related to the 2024 pro-Palestinian protests when demonstrators barricaded themselves inside the school president’s office.
Twelve protesters were initially charged last year with felony vandalism, according to prosecutors who said at least one suspect entered the building by breaking a window. Police arrested 13 people on June 5, 2024, in relation to the incident and the university said the building underwent “extensive” damage.
The case was tried in Santa Clara County Superior Court against five defendants charged with felony vandalism and felony conspiracy to trespass. The rest previously accepted plea deals or diversion programs.
The jury was deadlocked. It voted nine to three to convict on the felony charge of vandalism and eight to four to convict on the felony charge to trespass. Jurors failed to reach a verdict after deliberations.
The charges were among the most serious against participants in the 2024 pro-Palestinian protest movement on US colleges in which demonstrators demanded an end to Israel’s war in Gaza and Washington’s support for its ally along with a divestment of funds by their universities from companies supporting Israel.
Prosecutors in the case said the defendants engaged in unlawful property destruction.
“This case is about a group of people who destroyed someone else’s property and caused hundreds of thousands of dollars in damage. That is against the law,” Santa Clara County District Attorney Jeff Rosen said in a statement, adding he sought a new trial.
Anthony Brass, a lawyer for one of the protesters, told the New York Times his side was not defending lawlessness but “the concept of transparency and ethical investment.”
“This is a win for these young people of conscience and a win for free speech,” Brass said, adding “humanitarian activism has no place in a criminal courtroom.”
Protesters had renamed the building “Dr. Adnan’s Office” after Adnan Al-Bursh, a Palestinian doctor who died in an Israeli prison after months of detention.
Over 3,000 were arrested during the 2024 US pro-Palestinian protest movement, according to media tallies. Some students faced suspension, expulsion and degree revocation.