Runtime: 1 hour, 54 minutes
Rating: R
Director: Sebastián Lelio
Quick Impressions:
Back in college, when I was in Greece one summer taking an art history class, we all noticed some Greek Orthodox priests walking along the road in front of us. Since it was Sunday, we briefly discussed following them to their church to attend mass. Many of us were Catholic, though some (like me at the time) were merely Christian and open to worshipping in any church.
When the Orthodox priests glanced back and saw us very slowly drawing near, they took off like skittish forest creatures fleeing for their lives. It was almost comical because they were decked out in full regalia–long black vestments with heavy crosses and towering hats, carrying incense and candles and every other artifact of piety–and they bolted away in a full run like cartoon characters skedaddling in smoke. As if chased by Satan himself, they charged into their church, emphatically slammed the doors shut, and noisily locked them from the inside. The message was pretty clear. We were not welcome in that place of worship.
Luckily we soon happened upon a visiting French priest and a Mexican deacon leading a friendly band of water color dabblers. In a tiny Roman Catholic church, we all celebrated mass in Latin with readings in French and English and a couple of hymns in Spanish. It was actually really beautiful, and I was amazed that the mass was the same in any language, so universally accessible.
For me, that afternoon’s adventures brilliantly drove home the point that some faith communities are inclusive and welcoming, and others are not.
The community in Disobedience is not.
To be clear, though, that’s not necessarily a bad thing. As a person of faith myself, I have the utmost respect for Orthodox Judaism. When I was growing up, I moved so many times that I never felt part of any community, and I fantasized about marrying into either a big Italian family (like I saw on Olive Garden commercials), or a big Jewish family (with cool traditions I learned about from my Sunday School teacher mom and Adam Sandler).
If you’re going to be a part of a particular community and benefit from its protection and its traditions, then you have to obey its rules.
And Rachel Weisz’s Ronit does not follow the rules. So, since we experience the restrictive community she grew up in from her point of view, it’s rather unpleasant for us.
Well, it’s more than “rather unpleasant.” The early scenes of this film are downright torturous as Ronit returns to a place where she is pointedly unwanted and unwelcome.
This poor woman’s father just died, and they all look at her like she’s what they just ate that gave them food poisoning.
Everybody mutters lifelessly, “Oh, you did come,” or, “Oh, you came.” And then they just stare at her like they wish she hadn’t, and the rest is silence. (I wish I could cram, “From this time forth I never will speak word,” into that sentence since Rachel McAdams’s Esti would surely prefer a quote from Iago.)
When pressed, these unwelcoming former neighbors all grumble something about how Ronit left home and abandoned her father and never came when he was sick. But as the story goes on, we learn that she actually came a little too much back in high school, and they really dislike her because she committed the dual sin of 1) Being a lesbian and 2) Not being sorry.
Ordinarily, “sin” in the previous statement would just be colorful language, but (no matter how snippy I get about it), having pre-marital, lesbian sex and refusing to ask forgiveness actually are examples of sins for this faith community headed by Ronit’s father, the late rabbi, the rav.
So they have every right not to embrace her. From a certain point of view, she’s castigated herself. I see why they censure her.
I really don’t understand why they treat her so horribly when she returns for her father’s funeral, though. They don’t behave like people who care for someone and hope she’ll see the error of her ways. With a very few exceptions, they clearly don’t want to forgive her. They don’t like her, and they want nothing to do with her.
The early scenes of her interacting with them are painful to watch.
Before I saw the movie, I thought, “Okay, so you’re a lesbian, but you’ve been raised in a strict and immersive, isolated faith community that views homosexuality as a sin. That’s a legitimate dilemma because two crucial components of your identity are at war.”
But then I started watching the movie and decided, “No, these people are just jerks.” They absolutely do not have to be so mean. Unfortunately, their unrelenting unkindness makes it too easy to dismiss them as being wrong (which is probably one weakness of the film. It makes a difficult situation too easy. That does make it easier to watch, though. You’d have to be a pretty unfeeling person not to be in Ronit’s corner, regardless of your personal beliefs or opinions.)
Watching, I thought, “Okay, I could never come home to this family in a million years.” Everyone is just too taciturn. I realize that someone has just died, but the silence is eerie and unnatural. I’d rather come home to the August: Osage County family where Meryl Streep and Julia Roberts hurl insults and each other across the table.
(“Well, that’s more what you’re used to,” my husband wryly noted when I mentioned that to him.)
“Man” I thought as I watched, “I hope I don’t make my sister feel this way!” She’s actually here for a visit right now. (I’m not implying that she’s a scandalous black sheep, just that she’s a visitor coming home.) Then with a smile, I realized, “Oh my sister would have no patience for this nonsense! She would go absolutely berserk!”
I’m pretty sure I would quickly snap, too. I could never live in such a hostile environment. Setting aside the stuff about sexual orientation, obedience, compliance, morality–I could never live with the silence. (Seriously, not until pretty far into the film did I realize that they all have English accents, not just Rachel Weisz. They all said so few words that I had no idea the story was set in and around London until quite a few scenes in.)
After the movie, my husband noticed that there’s rarely sound without a source–someone singing, the radio. This is not a film with a very dominant score. I’m with him, actually, I don’t remember any background music at all. And nobody talks half the time. Probably the lack of background music is meant to replicate for the audience the tension the character feels in all the silent rooms. Ronit gets no relief from the oppressive quietness, so neither do we.
Really, it’s a miracle Ronit chooses to go back there. She must know what she’s in for. Except for her aunt (a sparkling Bernice Stegers) and her two childhood friends (Alessandro Nivola and Rachel McAdams), everybody treats her like garbage. That seems excessive punishment for an adolescent mistake, though probably the greater issue for them is that she doesn’t view it as a mistake. I keep calling her a lesbian, but that’s not necessarily strictly accurate. (There’s a lot we don’t know about Ronit.) I’m sure the others in the community don’t think of her as a lesbian. They think of her as a disgrace, a troublemaker. Her early sexual indiscretion marked her as rebellious, and her continuing rebellion has put them on their guard. They view her as a troublemaker in essence who will inevitably make trouble by her very presence. In fairness to them, she does.
I got invested in her character so easily. Ronit is unbelievably attractive. Obviously Weisz has always been gorgeous, but I’m not talking about physical beauty. Her character is appealing in so many ways. She’s strong, vibrant, interesting, emotionally off-kilter (under the circumstances) but with amazing confidence and sense of self, nonetheless.
Who wouldn’t fall in love with her? She’s a breath of fresh air in the restrictive, oppressive environment around her.
Also this is the best performance I’ve ever seen Rachel McAdams give. (Well, her work in Mean Girls is fantastic and memorable, too, iconic, but that’s a different kind of performance. And I’m realizing now that I have not seen all her movies. I’ve never seen The Notebook, for example.) But still, most roles I’ve seen her play do not require this degree of depth and complexity. Her work here is pretty revelatory.
I think it’s a nice touch that Esti is a character still finding out who she is, and we spend much of the movie trying to discover this very thing right along with her. She’s quite mysterious, and the role does call for a certain versatility that McAdams pulls off with great aplomb.
Alessandro Nivolo is also good as Dovid, Esti’s husband and apparently the only nice guy in town. I had a lot of sympathy for this character initially, and it actually just kept growing and growing. Dovid’s character shows the best side of his faith community. Without him, the movie would almost be a hit piece, showing only the dark side of Orthodox Judaism. Dovid kept impressing me again and again with his reasonableness, compassion, and desire to do the right thing. Plus Dovid has this really fascinating scene discussing scripture with his students that not only seems worthy of analysis in its own right, but also pairs nicely with his wife’s Othello lesson.
Best Scene Visually:
Both my husband and I loved the final scene of the film and immediately began raving about it once we got to the car. I could probably discuss this exceptionally effective moment for hours. (Of course, I would just make the same couple of points over and over again. But if you had seen it, too, you would say to yourself, “Yes, her emphasis is justified.”)
Besides just looking striking and providing some needed emotional closure for Ronit, this stunning scene makes a powerful visual point. My husband and I came at it differently. He noticed Rachel Weisz, and I noticed everything else, but these two ways of viewing that last image work in tandem to leave audiences with a poignant bit of visual symbolism. Though little is said, this may be the best scene in the entire film since it illustrates the heart of the story with such perfect simplicity.
Best Action Sequence:
What’s great about the love scene is not so much the sex itself (though that does look pretty great. Earlier we’ve seen Ronit have a sexual encounter with no emotional connection to her partner, and Esti endure her marital obligations with no enthusiasm whatsoever. So when they enjoy being together so much, in an outpouring of mutual love that is pointedly the first natural expression of sexuality we’ve seen from them, the experience is pleasurable for the viewer, too. I don’t just mean that it’s erotic. I mean that 1) We think, “Hey, this is good filmmaking because we’ve seen repressed, checked out Esti, and now we’re seeing happy, satisfied Esti!” and 2) We feel such palpable relief that they’ve escaped such an uncomfortable situation. Seriously, their sexual encounter provides us almost the same emotional release that it gives them).
But sex aside, what actually makes the love scene so great is what the two women do in order to make love. They’re watched and judged at every turn. So finally they leave the neighborhood and go to a hotel in a different part of London…because they are in London.
Their world is such a controlled, controlling microcosm that we easily forget that the entire time, they are actually in London. Everyone is watching them. Nowhere is safe from prying eyes…unless they leave. All they have to do is leave. It’s as easy as taking public transportation to a different part of town because they are actually in one of the largest metropolitan areas on Earth the entire time.
The realization is almost mind-bending.
Best Scene:
The group hug comes at just the right time and defuses so much tension, but that’s only a moment.
I see two candidates for best scene. The emergence of the true Esti in Ronit’s childhood home definitely marks a turning point in the film. From then on, two characters star in the film, whereas before we had only Ronit and the mystery of Esti.
The Negatives:
As I mentioned earlier, Disobedience does make the faith community look like a bunch of particularly spiteful jerks, people who look for every opportunity to undermine and belittle a woman whose father has just died (and all because of something she did years ago when she was only a teenager). I do feel that this depiction of them oversimplifies this rather complicated dilemma (sexual orientation versus community identity/faith) a little too much, making it too obvious that just severing ties from the community is the easy answer when in a similar real-life scenario, the answer might not be that easy.
I’m also not thrilled with Esti’s behavior. I can see a justification for it. Her life has been out of her control. She was born into something that in her mind has been as harmful and controlling as a cult. She was strong armed into making life decisions at a time when she may actually have been mentally ill. Still, I find her methods a bit off-putting. (Granted, this is probably born out of desperation and inexperience.) But why has she not talked to her husband before now? I don’t see her treating him with the same respect with which he has treated her. He, after all, was also born into this controlling world, and he has always been a friend to her. Perhaps the movie cannot be blamed for Esti’s shortcomings or vexing qualities. But I find something unsettling in her premeditation and lack of concern for her husband. Then again, I know from personal experience how frustrating it can be when people use your mental health issues to invalidate your choices, deny your fundamental nature, and control you.
Some people might find the movie slow, too, though it worked for me because I was quite captivated by Rachel Weisz’s character and performance. Some of the ceremony of Orthodox Judaism is also beautiful and captivating. It’s a shame we’re not allowed to see more of the beauty of that life. Surely there are good things about life within the rules. School girls reading Shakespeare cannot be the only good thing about that faith and lifestyle. If it were, everyone would rebel and leave. So I think the film falls a bit short, not doing justice to the full complexity of the story. The love story is believable. The frustration is believable. The longing is believable. The rebellion is believable. But the community they’re rebelling against is not as fleshed out as it could be. I get that there’s no life and love there for Ronit and Esti, that it’s killing Esti, but surely others find that life fulfilling. I feel like the film just skims the surface when it comes to religion and tradition, creating a straw man enemy instead of presenting the situation in its full complexity.
Overall:
Disobedience is intense. Like Deadpool 2 (which we’ll be seeing in a few days) it’s only for adults, but the main reason kids can’t see this movie is that it would bore them. (So parents, don’t worry if your impressionable children ever come across this film on cable while flipping channels. They’ll die of boredom before they get to any scandalous sexual material.) The film is slow and sometimes torturous, replicating for the audience the tormented longing and frustration of the protagonists. Honestly this movie would confuse any children who accidentally saw it. They wouldn’t ask awkward questions about sex. They would ask, “Why are these people so mean? Why won’t they let these women be happy?” I find myself asking those questions, too (though I do think the film is a bit unfair to those who do function happily within the faith community).
It’s not perfect, but it’s still a great film, simultaneously uncomfortable and engaging. Both Rachel Weisz and Rachel McAdams give what may be career best performances in this haunting story about choice, consequence, death, life, loss, and love.