It’s festival season! The FilmSoc blog is covering the BFI’s 61st London Film Festival (4-15 October), diving into the myriad of films and events on offer to deliver reviews.
Milo Garner looks at Samuel Maoz’s three part drama, denounced by Israel’s Minister of Culture.
Written and directed by Samuel Maoz, Foxtrot is a political film. Set in Tel Aviv, it tells the story of an Israeli soldier and his family, and naturally encompasses much of the controversy burning in that part of the world. But it is not a film of heroes and villains, nor one that seeks to frame the Israel-Palestine conflict in any wider context. Foxtrot is an introspective film: an inward look at Israel’s involvement in the West Bank through the eyes of one family. The head of this family is Michael Feldmann (Lior Ashkenazi), a veteran and stern authority figure. As the film opens he receives the worst of news – his son, Jonathan (Yonathan Shiray), has been killed in action. An oppressive and disorientating tone is quickly assumed, an overhead camera canting around as Michael walks across a room. Soldiers tell him to drink every hour, and he sets an alarm on his phone to do so. This serves as an interesting dramatic device, both informing the audience of time passed, and creating a momentary break (or escalation) in tension every so often. Michael is bewildered, but due to the stringent rules surrounding burial in Jewish culture there is little time to spare – he must inform his family and organise a funeral with the military within the day.
It is here that Foxtrot first veers away from what might appear to be a straight character study around loss and despair. A military rabbi visits the house and, in a scene bordering on satire, goes through the funeral procedure with clinical precision and diligent brevity. He suggests Michael could help carry his son’s coffin, but doesn’t recommend it. These funerals are so common, it would seem, that for the rabbi it is a rote task, losing both its ostensive religious meaning and any requirement for basic sympathy. While there is a swing back to the despondent tone soon after, the secret’s out – Foxtrot is not to remain the overtly serious film it began (very effectively) as, but will instead dance the line between comedy and tragedy. As this first act comes to a close Michael is told his son is in fact not dead, but that another Jonathon Feldmann had met that fate. Relief and irrationality sweep him as he demands his son return, hoping to get him home and safe, even though he isn’t necessarily at any particular risk.
Cut to that particular risk – two soldiers at an otherwise deserted outpost, totally bored. They talk for a while, and the subject turns to the eponymous dance. Then in the film’s best scene, Jonathon provides an example, breaking into brilliant dance, his rifle as partner. Far from the film that had Michael scold his hand to try and put off the horrific reality of loss, this second act is about youth and boredom, camaraderie and routine. The four soldiers stationed at this post, all young and stultified, pass the time in their way – one tinkers with equipment; one is constantly listening to loud music; Jonathon sketches. As time goes by they encounter occasional travellers at the outpost. The first they let by fairly simply – a check of their details and off they go – but with each group that passes a creeping sense of unease deepens. This is matched by the container in which the soldiers sleep, which is literally sinking into the ground. The ultimate effect is to paint a sense of innocence across the soldiers (a particular shot of them playfighting to Mahler is the best example of this) without absolving them of wrongdoing. A situation is displayed in which men who are not evil might commit evil acts. It is the system of the outposts really being indicted here: the way in which they make necessary the demeaning of Palestinian commuters to support a wider system of repression.
The tone of the film expertly reflects this darkening progression; palpable strain builds with each vehicle to pass the checkpoint. While the soldiers themselves remain much the same – bored, a little tetchy – the circumstances vary. At one point an innocent couple are made to leave their car in torrential rain; at another, after an extended segment of serious tension, a can falls out of a car. It looks to be a grenade; a soldier, not yet twenty, opens fire. Maoz has created sympathetic characters and does not wish to create antagonists in these men, so making that moment of gunfire doubly nauseating – the gunman was not malignant, but his actions are unforgivable. Or at least they should be; following this climax the brass effectively sweep the incident under the rug. As with the rabbi’s routine attitude towards funerals in the first act, this incident is no rare thing, and life goes on.
Just as the film returns to the crushing tenor it opened with, Maoz again decides to inject it again with levity. Using the illustrations in Jonathon’s notebook, the pictures come alive in a fully, and wonderfully, animated section that effectively traces his father’s past – from trading his mother’s precious bible for an erotic mag to his exploits in war. Despite the overt humour in this section, the key theme is one of guilt, first from his original sin in giving away a family heirloom, but sustained beyond this. This passes to Jonathon – the cycle continues. As is spelled out toward the end of the film, the foxtrot is endless, going round and round: forward; left; back; right. So might be this conflict Israel finds itself caught up in unless something is done. This is another example of Maoz’ subtle yet impactful approach to the problem, doing away with flags, borders, and mass destruction for a more intimate examination of a crisis. The brilliant camerawork and committed performances grant this story engaging life – the emphasis on top-down angles being particularly novel – but it is in the writing that it truly excels. For a conflict so often defined by extremes, Foxtrot manages to marry sympathy and criticism just as well as it does tragedy and comedy. That is to say, very.
8/10
Foxtrot has its UK premiere on October 11th, at London Film Festival. Check out the trailer below.