It has been a year, for me at least, where showbiz has never felt more frivolous but conversely also felt more necessary. But while we all need a break, I have to admit that quite a lot of my culture time has been filled with the same sort of Jewish stuff that fills most of my work time; antisemitism, culture wars, Zionism, Israel.
My film of the year has to be An Officer and A Spy, which may be a surprising choice. It first came out in 2019 but last month this Roman Polanski movie had its first and only ever British cinema screening as part of the Jewish Film Festival.
If you wanted to know about the madness of cancel culture it is summed up by what happened here. I am not condoning the director’s dreadful actions; in 1977 he fled America after pleading guilty to unlawful sex with a minor. He had been arrested for drugging and raping a 13-year-old girl. It is right that he is condemned.
But I am also condemning the hypocrisy of the film world, which for decades continued to laud him with awards. It shouldn’t have taken the #MeToo scandal and the sudden need for some scalps to decide whether or not Polanski should be considered an acceptable figure or not.
In between the making of this film, based on the book by Robert Harris, and its release, it was decided that actually Polanski was a very bad man who had to be cancelled. I struggle with the tough debate over whether we should separate the art from the artist: I don’t have the answer.
The rules for cancellation seem so arbitrary and when work – particularly something as big as a film that requires a cast and crew of hundreds – is cancelled it should be for a good reason. To add to the inconsistencies is the fact that the film has been shown in cinemas all over the world; it is just English-speaking countries that have banned it. It is almost impossible to even purchase an English-subtitled download of it, which is ridiculous.
I also believe that if one Polanski picture should be saved from the fires of cancellation (the rest of his movies continue to be shown widely), it should be this one. Not only is this French-language film a masterpiece that won awards at the Venice Film Festival before word went out that Polanski was cancelled, it is a rare telling of a story which was to have an enormous impact on Jews and the world at large: the Dreyfus affair.
Theodor Herzl was one of the journalists who watched the story unfold of French Jewish officer Alfred Dreyfus being accused of spying for his country. He saw that even in enlightened France the mob was too happy to turn on the Jews, the establishment was too happy to condemn an innocent man and keep him condemned even when they learnt someone else entirely was the spy.
It was to give Herzl the push he needed to create the political Zionist project, which even today remains both so necessary and so controversial. Speaking at a Q&A after the screening, Harris, summed up my feelings.
“I can understand why people feel very strongly about Polanski and don’t wish to contribute to his glory or coffers by seeing his work. But I also believe if an adult in our society wishes to see the film, they should be able to. It isn’t just a thriller, it’s also a historical document of some value.”
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MY second favourite film is controversial for different reasons. The Nova Festival documentary We Will Dance Again is a sensitively made depiction of the events of October 7. People want to cancel documentaries like this – or at least close them down – because they don’t want to be shown the truth. I have had plenty of criticisms of the BBC this year but to its credit, you can still see the film, which the corporation also co-produced, on BBC iPlayer.
Books are normally my escape from life but this year I have been overwhelmed by reading material about Israel and the war and have two favourites. Brendan O’Neill’s After The Pogrom is a brilliant polemic about how the world has turned upside down since October 7, with people on our streets every week cheering for terrorism and antisemitism rising from the moment Israel was attacked. I found myself nodding along to almost every sentence, while also getting angrier and angrier. I also loved Jotam Confino’s Netanyahu’s Israel: Rise of the Far Right, which filled in a lot of knowledge gaps about some of the people with whom Israel’s Prime Minister has got into bed.
Jews in the arts have found themselves in this strange place where antisemitism is being normalised but where plays about how shocking antisemitism is, continue to be shown. Tracy-Ann Oberman’s Cable Street version of Merchant of Venice is excellent and timely and will be briefly back on in the West End at the Trafalgar Theatre until the end of January.
What We Talk About When We Talk About Anne Frank (on until February) is a challenging and pertinent watch while I adored Fiddler on the Roof. I also can’t wait to see this year’s JW3 Jewish panto.
I’m pleased I’ve finally bagged some tickets for the second showing Giant, about Roald Dahl’s antisemitism, which garnered rave reviews for star Elliot Levey and is back in the West End from April.
TV-wise it is hard to say I enjoyed The Tattooist of Auschwitz – the subject matter is too painful – but this was well done and a must-watch. I’ve seen an early episode of brilliant new Sky drama Lockerbie (December 28), which feels an important reminder about when terrorism hits our shores, as is a new BBC three-part documentary series about the 7/7 bombings, which is on in January. For something a little lighter, Netflix is screening a documentary series taking us behind the scenes of The Jerry Springer Show in early January.
We are going to need some laughter in 2025. I loved seeing Rachel Creeger’s Ultimate Jewish Mother – chicken soup for the soul – and I’ve already booked my ticket to see Israeli comic Yohay Sponder in January; the first London gig sold out in 48 hours and he has put on two more.
It has been a challenging year for Jews in the arts but, as ever, Jewish artistic life flourishes.