#16 God is Great, I’m Not
One can’t entirely ignore the beneficial aspects of being Jewish. Meaningful traditions, a prescribed set of family values, a relationship with the infinite (to borrow from Eliezer Berkovitz), as well as a grand sense of community and purpose – but even with that, there still must come a time in every thinking Jew’s life where – if even for a fleeting moment – he or she takes a step back, considers the cultural baggage, or financial strain, or historical persecution, or lifestyle restrictions, or whatever else it is that bothers them most about being “chosen,” and internally asks if at the end of the day it is all truly (TRULY) worth it. Pascal Bailly’s God Is Great, I’m Not presents an exquisite study of this particular conflict, from two perspectives. In that splendid European (as opposed to American) style of light romantic filmmaking that manages to be real and clever and sometimes brutal (as opposed to insipid), where characters say and do things that feel natural and spontaneous (as opposed to scripted), Bailly intends to dissect the fragile psyche of a free spirited non-Jewish fashion model, Michele (enchanting Audrey Tautou) – and he does so tremendously – but for me, the important subject of the film is Francois, a quasi-handsome Jewish veterinarian living in Paris, who has a latent but ongoing identity crisis.
We are to understand from the outset that Michele is troubled. She’s neurotic and compulsive, passive aggressive, confused, bad in relationships, terrible with family, possibly even suicidal. Her value as a human being (besides mind-numbing beauty) lies in two arenas: sincerity of emotion and sincerity in her take no prisoners search for spiritual meaning. And she arrives at Judaism with innocent eyes wide open due to her interest in Francois who claims to be “nothing” religiously, yet because of her uncompromising personality, Michele tries to swallow his people's Torah whole.
Not since Walter Sobchak raged that he was Shomer fucking Shabbos has a gentile been so adamant about abstaining from melachah on Saturday. Michele approaches her religious education (and eventual conversion classes) with such enthusiasm, passion, and curiosity, that it actually allows orthodox Judaism to appear an attractive alternative for the young and trendy. Writer Alain Tasma provides very insightful dialogue for Michele to chew over as she competently charges through the process. She acutely questions the relevance of the 39 melachot in reference to their applicability in our modern (non-agrarian) society. After her barrage of astute questions on this issue, her observant Jewish mentor must eventually concede the truth: Even we don’t know sometimes why we do the things we do. But that difficult reality and potential obstacle stuck in the road of religious life does not deter Michele (as it seemingly does not deter the rest of us). She is on a mission. She’s got the soul of a fanatic. And like all fanatics, unfortunately, the infatuation with an of-the-moment ideal or cause is merely a reflection of whichever influence was transmitted and received most recently. Michele is God is Great’s focal character and she is sprightly, lovely, and sympathetic, but we can’t learn anything essential from her, so we must move on to Francois.
Francois is rather dreary and unlikable. He has an annoying beard, is awfully mature, and doesn’t want to have children. He’d rather take his parents (visiting from Israel) to a gefilte fish joint than introduce them to his personable, eager to please (model!) girlfriend.
He would prefer to ignore Michele’s desperate quest to learn and celebrate his heritage, and instead live for today, repeat ad nauseum how pretty she is, and smother her with long slobbery kisses. The closest he comes to sharing his Judaism with her is gushing Ani Ohev Otah before yet another lip lock.
I think American Jews can learn a lot from Francois about what it’s like to be a Jew in Europe today. We do forget in the comfort and security of this great country that in 2009, in democratic Europe, it is still tough to be a practicing Jew. Wearing a yarmulke and tzi-tzis is not so pashut. There are ramifications. There is potential for uncomfortable, maybe dangerous situations. Rushing to judge Francois’ choice of distance from his religion would be a mistake.
When Michele as a gift to Francois nails a mezuzah to his doorpost (albeit upside-down), he explodes upon seeing it. As she cowers from his ire, teary eyed, he continues to rail, “Why don’t you just write JEW on my door!” All she can do before escaping is respond that he shouldn’t be embarrassed about being Jewish. Tasma is wise enough to expose the gravity of not only his reaction to the mezuzah, but Michele’s seemingly innocent response to his reaction.
Do not be embarrassed about being Jewish.
One could write a thesis regarding Francois’ relationship with Judaism and the statement above. Do not be embarrassed about being Jewish. It is easy to dismiss his rejection of the mezuzah as resulting from shame or fear, but that oversimplifies something deeply complex which only a Jew like Francois can know. And what is a Jew like Francois? Well, one from a traditional home, but modern, and living in a progressive city, with a significant anti-Semitic population, yet trying to blend in with a crowd of agnostics, because he is really one himself and he wants to be accepted for who he is not what he is, and that’s the culture anyway, well, more that he is apathetic to religion, or indifferent, or disinterested, or pretending to be all three, but not really because his parents brought him up to realize Judaism’s significance, and he probably wants to marry a Jew, eventually, but if you asked him he’d tell you it doesn’t make a difference, but the crazy thing is his religion consumes him in a way….and the descriptive layers go on and on. There are many Jews that fit this awkward, fluid definition, and to describe their feelings toward Judaism in a word – like shame – is to blind oneself to a transcendent truth.God is Great, I’m Not uses Francois to explain Michele, but Michele is beyond explanation. She is incapable of meaningful change and defies understanding. She’ll drift through life like a honeybee skipping from one flower to the next, making sweet stuff but with that stinger poised and sharp. Francois is the one to follow, because he is the story of all thinking Jews. He’s bound to sooner or later ask himself the big Jewish question and find out what he’s made of. And it would be interesting to be there and see if he decides that it’s at all worth it.
As the film itself concludes, To Be Continued...
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