Hatboxes at Limmud

In February 2013, we had the privilege of presenting a sneak preview of Hatboxes to attendees at Limmud Chicago, a conference of Jewish learning.  After screening the film, participants joined us in discussion of the film and its themes.

Several attendees had actually advised in the development of Hatboxes, and we found it gratifying to hear that the story they had first encountered aligned well with what they saw onscreen.

One participant told us that she found Hatboxes dangerous, relatable, and discomfiting because it reminded her of some of her own experiences in life.   She wondered if seeing it might free some to consider other ways of being, of living their lives.

Some saw Hatboxes as centering on Miriam’s personal arc, while others saw Nadine and Miriam moving towards each other across the spectrum of Jewish observance, womanhood, and relationships.  Some liked the ending, and some wanted a different one.

But the question that seemed to captivate our Limmud audience almost as much as “What happens next?” was “What’s in the hatbox at the end?”

What would be in your box of dearest treasures?

Is It Risk that Makes Art?

Do movie-goers really only want to see the same flicks again and again, within narrow parameters? 

Is the future just going to be one long monotonous formulaic digital zombie superhero fugue state?

The snob appeal of resisting data analysis of a screenplay's potential  is nearly irresistible:  the only people wringing their hands at this may be the writers right now, but might we be underestimating viewers at our peril?

But read all the way to the end of the article.  The analyst says he contextualizes his recommendations by—how about that!—talking to the writer.  He shares his views early in the process, when the writer might still be able to exert creative control.

Only a fool would refuse useful feedback that helps create a better screenplay, and "better" doesn't have to mean "less risky"...a hat-tip to everyone who helped make the Hatboxes screenplay better!

Israeli Judge Rules for Pluralism at the Western Wall

For the love of Gd—no, really, for the love of Gd.

Women have struggled for a long time to be able to pray—sing, wear prayer shawls—at Jerusalem's Western Wall, the treasured remnant of the Temple the Romans destroyed 1,943 years ago. We have been harassed, arrested, and subject to rules propagated by those who appear to believe there is one and only one way to live a Jewish life.

A judge in Israel has affirmed a lower court ruling that there was no justification for the arrest of several members of the advocacy group Women of the Wall and that a police request for a restraining order against the Women lacked merit.

"Significantly, the judge ruled that in the Law of Holy Places, which compels Western Wall visitors to pray and hold religious celebrations according to the 'local custom,' this phrase doesn’t necessarily mean Orthodox custom," according to a report in the Forward.

The pervasive disdain for women at the orthodox end of the spectrum of many faiths deserves scrutiny.  Jimmy Carter recently left the Southern Baptist Convention explicitly over its positions on women. Roman Catholic doctrine continues to ban women from the priesthood, though ordination remains a goal for some Catholic women.  While the Qu'ran asserts equality between the sexes (with distinctions), customs persist that relegate Muslim women to lower status in many places. And Orthodox Jewish women often experience a range of restrictions, including not being allowed to touch the Torah, "because...you know..." as Rabbi Benay Lappe puts it with sardonic wit (i.e., we might be menstruating, among other reasons), though the development of "Morethodoxy" and the growth of leadership opportunities for Orthodox women give heart.

How does it persist that the closer people cleave to the character-by-character literalism of a revered text, the likelier it is that women will bear the burden of that abnegation of imagination?