What's going on?
You scared me,
I'm sorry.
I bought some milk, like you requested.
I scare you?
Sometimes.
A little.
I'm sorry.
And why do I scare you? I'm curious.
Men my age don't stir emotions
in young women.
We're usually transparent.
Listen, I don't know
why you're doing this.
When someone's holding a knife...
Even now, when I only want
to slice us some cake?
So we can sit peacefully in the garden?
But I like that you're scared of me,
that you think I'm capable
of taking you by surprise,
perhaps even hurting you.
Is that how she saw me?
A knife?
Me?
What's important now
is somehow to break up this story.
I wrote my first book because of her,
to impress her.
It nearly worked,
we became close friends
but as far as marriage,
she married someone else.
When Tamar called
and said her husband Yariv
was in the hospital in critical condition
naturally, I was shocked.
But to be honest,
my imagination ran embarrassingly wild.
Embarrassingly, but humanly.
Where were you?
The bus from the valley was late.
Did you tell her I was on my way?
Yes, I told her.
Are you all right?
Look at her, how come she's
still so beautiful and we're...
getting so old?
Because we are matter, and she is spirit.
Suddenly a person disappears,
as if he never existed.
Like a fart,
a little noise,
a little smell, poof, he's gone.
Avsha, stop it.
- Did you see that?
- Did I see what?
She smiled at you.
In these kinds of situations
people have involuntarily reactions.
Surely, god is sending you a hint.
The door has opened, an opportunity.
A good writer
is skilled at plotting actions
that turn into story,
but in real life,
executing such actions,
is something else altogether.
I ask the right questions
but the images don't describe a story.
No writer or philosopher,
Israeli or Palestinian,
comes out like a big hero
or a potential revolutionary.
One moment, excuse me... Yes.
Coming.
Sorry, your line's busy and
everyone's waiting in the car.
Endless arguments with this network,
it's k*lling me.
Amir, Amir.
If you sound so desperate
they'll halt production
and it won't go down as failure
because their idea was bad,
but because your execution was lousy.
It'll destroy your career.
The problem is you have no perspective
because you love cinema
but you have no life.
So say ciao ciao,
put on some nice perfume
and let's go check out
Tel Aviv's nightlife, okay?
Don't worry about the line.
- Niso, please, do me a favor.
- I don't want to lose my job.
you already got me into trouble once.
Trouble? On the contrary,
you did a good deed - God is saving you
a place in heaven.
Margo, I can't, there's a live band
they cost a fortune.
I'll clean tables, I'll serve drinks,
please, Niso, I'm going crazy,
I'm stuck at my annoying sister's,
she keeps telling me I'm a total loser.
Then you must be a loser.
Margo, you're in the way.
Niso, let me in. I'll dance a little
and then clean the bathrooms.
no matter how gross it gets,
please, Niso.
No way.
- Hello, I'm Niso and Yaeli's friend.
- Let them in.
- Thank you. I'll be right back.
- Naora!
Hi, Yaeli! How's it going?
How are you?
Do me a favor, I'll hide behind you
and go in with you, okay?
- Like we're together.
- Don't know...
- Come on...
- Amir, Amir.
Join me.
Get the hell outta here.
What's your problem?
Go home and don't come back.
She's a lunatic.
Margo, don't piss me off.
- Please, Niso.
- Beat it, Margo. Go home.
And don't come back.
Come in. First drink's on me.
So Amitai Kariv the writer,
just grabbed you,
And smashed your glasses?
No, of course not, he's a civilized man.
He indulged me in foreplay,
featuring his impressive masculinity
which really surprised me,
because I remember that in the review
I wrote about his last book
I distinctly mentioned that his writing
reminded me of a limp p*nis.
That's why I wrote that I think
he's completely impotent.
After reading his new book,
I'm going to file
a criminal complaint against him
for the m*rder of the Hebrew language.
Good evening, please
put me through to the ad department.
It's not too late
for tomorrow's paper, right?
Can I dictate it to you over the phone?
Thank you.
- What?
- What "what"...
Look at her, lying like that on the sofa,
tell her to cover herself up.
I'll tell her to get outta here,
to find her own place and a job,
She's been here one month? Two?
It feels like a year.
Margo.
It's after 10:00 and I have class
at 12:00.
Leave the paper here, I'll...
Sleep till noon,
and lose a chance to find a job.
Which I'm sure will make you
very happy. Get up!
f*ck...
Didn't Razi say his TV show is
looking for a production assistant?
For this you need a CV.
For waitressing you don't.
Okay, but they pay little,
not enough for Tel Aviv rent.
- You want me to leave, right?
- Then don't live in Tel Aviv.
Anyway, its just until you save
enough money for your trip,
which I don't approve of,
- you must make a greater effort...
- Wait a minute...
There's a job here for one month,
the pay is really high...
Yes, but it says you need
a background in literature.
- I studied literature in high school.
- You got as far as 10th grade.
- Not to mention the scandal.
- Cut it out, Zehava.
An affair with your drama teacher,
old enough to be your father?
- And vandalizing...
- Aren't you tired of slamming me?
Excuse me,
where's 13 Maale Ha'Tzofim?
It's on the other side
of the Monkey Garden.
Go up those stairs, cross the entire park,
you'll see a fence with
a rusty, green gate. It's there.
- Excuse me, is this 13 Maale Ha'Tzofim?
- Yes.
- You're also here for the job interview?
- Yes.
- Who's next?
- Me.
Come in.
Have a seat.
A degree in English literature
and philosophy from the Hebrew University,
very nice.
I assume you've written several papers.
Very good.
Are you familiar with
Hebrew literature as well?
Um... I think so.
Have you ever read any of my books?
I'm sorry, no.
- But I love reading, so...
- Never mind.
Working for me requires long hours
with an overseas researcher,
and of course, total commitment.
Come in.
I see in your impressive CV
a BA in literature and theater
at Tel Aviv University.
Yes.
- Theory or acting?
- Both.
Did you like acting classes?
- Did you dream of being an actress?
- Who doesn't?
I was told I was talented.
Nice. And in literature?
What do you like to read?
Stories... From the imagination.
Naturally, you prefer books with
touching story and characters,
like Tolstoy's, or Alexander Graham Bell,
Benito Mussolini,
and Enrico Caruso who wrote
the famous autobiography,
"Robinson Caruso",
I'm sure you've read it.
Of course, he's a wonderful writer.
Did you study with Avi Maoz?
The introductory theater course?
- I think it's a prerequisite.
- Yes, he's a wonderful teacher,
he always helped me
and praised my work.
Just out of curiosity,
how long ago did you study with him?
- Two years.
- Two years?
- That means you're very special.
- Why special?
Why special? Because he taught
you nine years after he died.
- He's dead?
- Absolutely.
But from what I hear from you,
he's gone back to teaching.
Which is a miracle.
Tamari, anything you need, just ask.
- Promise?
- Promise.
It'll be so awful, alone here,
if you can't take it, just...
Did you meet Amitai?
My best friend from the kibbutz?
- Amitai Kariv, the writer. Danny, Yochi.
- Nice to meet you.
I'm sure you've read "Dazzling Dawn".
"Dazzling Dawn"?
Everyone read it.
"The Good Years"?
Ancient history...
Wonderful, romantic stories,
from back in the day, at the kibbutz,
coed showers.
Traumas for life.
Anyway, thank you.
- Tamar...
- Thank you, see you.
- All the best.
- Bye.
- It's driving me crazy.
- What's wrong?
I'm unable to be sad.
- Please, distract me...
- Your favorite flowers.
And I actually have good news.
Perhaps this isn't a good time.
Tamari, is everything okay?
You're worrying me.
Such a mess, such a mess...
My chin is stiff from all this nodding
to what a wonderful person Yariv was.
And a wonderful father and husband,
the epitome of the matrimonial bliss.
Being a widow is a hard, annoying job,
not to mention exhausting.
I'm expected to constantly be sad.
Be sad, Tamar. Tamar, be sad.
It's a nightmare.
Let's change the subject.
What's your exciting news?
- I've kept it secret for a year now.
- You're keeping a secret from me?
Since when?
It just hasn't fully matured.
A year ago, I got a call from a
comparative literature PhD candidate
from Northwest Colorado University.
She's an Israeli who's studying there,
she's actually much more
than just a PhD candidate,
she writes for the NY Times and Newsweek.
A real figure.
And in that conversation, she told me
that she's basing her dissertation...
on the author Amitai Kariv.
- My books.
- I don't believe it.
She even got a book publisher, so...
it might turn into a book.
I don't believe it.
That's amazing, my dear friend.
Amazing, wow.
Sorry, I'm so happy,
I'm crushing your flowers.
You really deserve this.
This is a real reason to celebrate.
I'm going to change. There's a vase
over there, put some water in it..
- You hear me?
- Hear what?
- What's the PhD candidate's name?
- Gal Shenar.
She's flying in next week to do
interviews for her dissertation,
including friends from the kibbutz. So...
You think they'll laugh at me
for wearing this, at my age?
I don't know what you mean by "my age",
but the dress is beautiful.
You know how many years I've
been scared to wear this dress?
We stress over what people think about us,
and time just goes by.
I know where we'll go to celebrate.
Writers create a certain reality
where they have complete control
over their characters' conduct.
Sometimes they feel that they can
control it in real life as well.
And that is a big mistake.
- You've reached Razi.
- And Zehava.
Go for it.
Hello, this is Amitai Kariv,
calling for Margalit Mai.
I'd like to meet with Ms. Mai
and discuss working hours, salary, etc.
My number is 723-589. Thank you.
No way.
Come in.
Please have a seat.
- Who'll go first?
- What?
- Break the silence.
- You just did.
You must be surprised that I asked
you back after catching you in a lie.
- Or rather, several lies.
- Yeah, I'm surprised.
- Do you lie a lot, Margalit?
- Margo.
I lie when I have no choice,
like when I have to find a job.
Writers lie a lot, after all,
what is literature but one big lie?
Totally. So I just need to know
what's the pay,
because I'm saving up to go to LA.
What's in LA?
Everything. I act, I sing,
I think I can go a long way.
But first I need money for the trip...
We're talking 50,000
for one month in cash.
But first we'll do a test period,
to make sure we get along.
What's the job?
Collecting and sorting material for
a researcher from abroad.
Some deliveries, phone calls,
whatever's required.
What do you mean by "required"?
What's your concern with "required"?
I... I just want to know
exactly what I'll be doing.
The test period is mutual,
at any stage, you can quit.
I won't keep anyone here against their
will. That is your desk over there.
And to show you I mean well,
I'll make you coffee.
- Sugar?
- Two.
We're kindred spirits, I take two as well.
You know what they say,
life is like coffee,
it's all in how you make it, or take it.
Make yourself at home,
I don't believe in formalities.
I'm from a kibbutz,
so feel free to take your shoes off.
- Mr. Kariv.
- You can call me Amitai.
Amitai, I can't find my wallet, I must've
dropped it when I got off the bus.
I'm going to look for it, be right back.
- Excuse me, can I use the phone?
- Of course, dear.
- How much?
- By the meter.
Call me back at 037235889 ASAP.
Margo.
- Zehava?
- What's wrong?
I found a job. I mean, maybe.
A very strange author named Amitai Kariv,
offers loads of money for a job that
anyone would do for much less.
He wants me even though
he knows I'm under-qualified.
Something's fishy there.
I need Razi to find out about this guy,
can he research him
through the TV show he works for?
- If there's any dirt...
- What dirt, Margo?
I don't know, he's really weird.
There are dirty books on his desk.
I'm nervous to be alone with him,
but... it's a lot of money.
I'm just organizing the books in piles.
How nice not having to remember
what's yours and what's mine.
All these books on the desk are the
books for the researcher's dissertation.
- I thought she was writing about you.
- She is, those are my books too.
Clara Dagan and Jacob Miller
are my pseudonyms.
When you write serious books
like the books I sign with my own name,
sometimes you want to write something
lighter and earn some extra money,
so you write under a false identity,
it's quite amusing.
This is yours too.
Not that it bothers me.
Why would it bother you?
You're a big girl and probably
quite experienced.
What does that mean?
No, that... your generation
is of easy virtue, no?
Oh, so that means I'm "easy"?
You hired me because I'm "experienced"?
No, good heavens,
I didn't mean easy as a...
A sl*t?
I just want to ask, you wrote this,
does that make you "easy"?
Me, easy? Unfortunately
I'm the poster boy of "difficult".
But many serious writers
write erotic novels, yes.
Lawrence, Boccaccio,
Pinhas Sadeh who wrote "Devotion"
- Why do you do that? Do what?
- Do that.
You know fully well I never read
those writers, so is it a joke?
I apologize,
I had no intention to offend you.
And what's the deal with the 50,000?
Am I on Candid Camera?
Will someone jump out and laugh at me,
the backwater moron?
To humiliate for me for a laugh?
What kind of a person are you?
- Wait, where are you going?
- What do you want from me?
I don't get this bullshit...
I'm asking,
please browse through my books,
and I'll pay you starting tomorrow.
Know what? I'll start paying today.
One moment.
I had a ride, so I came early.
Here's some fruit. What's wrong?
You're early and I forgot it's that
day of the month when you...
- There's a woman here.
- A woman? A female woman?
Please,
wait half an hour in the Monkey Garden.
- Please understand, I...
- I totally understand.
This is a once-in-a-decade event, like
a solar eclipse. Sorry for interrupting.
Aren't you overdressed
for just half an hour?
What?
Oh, you dummy. Half an hour, okay?
- Take the lemons.
- Half an hour.
- All right, Have fun.
- "Have fun..."
Sorry, wrong address.
Anyway, as we discussed before, I...
thought about it, and I want to
give you 5,000 up front, okay?
5,000 shekels?
I deeply apologize
for what I said earlier,
it was foolish, disrespectful
and I promise it won't happen again.
- Okay. Are we okay?
- Yes.
- "The Jordan is driven back"!
- Who drives where?
Margalit Mimon... Sorry,
Margo Mai is actually reading a book.
Zehava, I'm not illiterate...
These shoes are too tight.
What are you reading?
He asked me to read one of his books.
He'll quiz me tomorrow.
- Razi.
- Yeah?
- Did you find out about him?
- Yeah.
They did an item about him years ago.
He was very popular in the past,
but after the Kippur w*r, the hostility
towards the Kibbutz Movement started,
he became the lightning rod for
that anger. Critics tore his books apart.
Razi, I don't care if he's a
good writer or not, that's his problem.
I need to know,
can he pay me the 50 grand?
He inherited a house and
some money from his uncle,
so he shouldn't have a problem paying.
- Well, did you read my books?
- Of course.
- But with much skipping, like you said.
- That's fine.
But did you memorize the storylines
and the main characters?
I'm ready for the test, sh**t.
What test?
You said you'd test me,
that this is a test period.
No, I trust you,
I have to believe you.
I can't start a relationship
with distrust,
a relationship should be based
on absolute trust.
The boy and the woman in the photo,
in front of the monkey cage,
- are they you and your mother?
- Yes, it's us.
When I was little, my mother and I
would come from the kibbutz,
to visit my uncle the doctor.
This was his house.
Sometimes, my mother took me
to the garden, and we'd sit by the cages.
They used to house monkeys.
I'd watch the monkeys for hours,
I loved those monkeys so much
that I learned to imitate them,
I became a kind of... Monkey-ologist.
I'd do a whole show
of all the monkeys' dialogues,
my mother would laugh and clap her hands.
Those were beautiful times.
No doubt, those were beautiful times.
Our neighbors in the village
had a little donkey, so sweet,
and my dad always gave me carrots
to feed him.
- My happiest childhood memories.
- I don't think we ever grow up, do we?
Excuse me.
Hello?
Yes, operator.
Collect. Okay, I will accept.
It's Gal from Colorado.
Hey, Gal, perfect timing,
I'm sitting here with the girl
who's organizing the material for you.
She's waving hello.
Everything will be ready here for you.
What?
Oh no. That was unexpected.
Please ask your husband to call me,
collect, let me know you're okay.
Okay, Gal, get better soon.
Amitai.
Amitai, where are you?
I don't want to go
and leave the door open.
Great, Margo,
you just told all the thieves in
the neighborhood that the door's open,
you idiot.
Amitai, I had to go but I have no key
so the door is unlocked.
They can take whatever they want.
There's nothing valuable.
Just boxes full of my old books,
which I realized long ago are worthless.
No, come on.
What happened, why isn't she coming?
Turns out she's has medical issues
and must have surgery,
so she can't make the trip.
It's a catastrophe for me.
She'll be okay, but the book
she was to write about me...
that's not going to happen.
Can't she get back to it
once she's better?
It'll be too late,
there's a foundation
that has year-end money
to finance the publishing of the book
based on her dissertation.
But if it won't happen now,
it will never happen.
- I'm devastated.
- No wonder. You're disappointed.
It's a death sentence, not just for me,
but mainly for my books.
You know, Margo, every writer, every
artist, in fact, has an expiration date,
the only way not to disappear
is to have someone glorify your work,
someone who'll make you well known.
Where would Kafka be
without Max Brod?
Or Agnon without Kurzweil?
Sorry, I keep embarrassing you
with names you don't know.
Kurzweil was a literary critic
who wrote a lot about Shai Agnon
who consequently won
the Nobel Prize in Literature.
But without Kurzweil,
who'd even remember Agnon?
It's a pity, this dissertation
is almost done.
Just a few more interviews and that's it.
What interviews?
With some writers and literary critics
who'll speak well or dismissively
about me and my work,
it's all part of the research,
but without those interviews,
the dissertation will be incomplete.
Wait, I don't get it,
There's nothing that can be done?
Some kind of ruse or... a sort of
"understanding" with her professor?
Somthing?
- What do you mean?
- Don't know. I really don't know, but...
maybe something can be done
with only Gal in the know?
Question is... how to go about that?
In your CV you wrote that
you studied theater in high school.
- Was that a fabrication?
- No, and I was good too.
So you can do body language,
and I'll teach you text...
But how?
The people I'm to interview met her...
No, no,
luckily, she hasn't met anyone yet,
she only reviewed archive materials,
she stayed mainly at my house,
had her own room upstairs,
it was very convenient for her.
Lucky her. I'm stuck on the sofa
at my annoying sister's place.
Then perhaps...
if you'd like,
you can move in here for a month.
- Move in here?
- If you'd like.
- Where will you sleep?
- On the sofa.
My friend Avsha, who comes to the city
once a month from the kibbutz, sleeps here
he always says my sofa is
more comfortable than his bed at home.
So don't feel bad.
I think it would be better for you as well
instead of having to commute
back and forth.
Let's say... I agree to try,
as well as move in here,
it's not my fault if we fail, right?
You'll pay me either way, right?
Because I'll do my best...
Margo, it's just playing a character,
and you do know how to act, don't you?
Margo, it's dangerous,
he could easily take advantage of you.
If he tries anything, if he touches you,
you can come back here, Margo.
Hello?
Good morning, Tamari,
I hope I didn't wake you.
No, of course not.
The PhD candidate I told you about,
she's here and in order to cut costs,
she'll be staying with me,
in what used to be my uncle's office.
The room with the skeleton, nice.
When is she getting started?
You'll be so famous,
you'll never talk to me.
Oh, please, Tamari,
fame isn't what's important,
I just want it to do my books right,
and the literary universe I created.
If people start recognizing me
on the street...
Hey, have you seen my pants?
Listen, I'm really late,
can I...
call you back later?
- Good morning, Mr. Ojechov.
- Good morning.
- Oh my god, what is that?
- I was just about to move it out.
When I was a child, I was also afraid
to come in here because of the skeleton.
- What kind of doctor was your uncle?
- A family doctor.
Ironically, he didn't have one of his own.
So this is the room,
there's a chain on the door
if you wish to lock it,
I want you to feel at ease here.
Can you show me some clothes
you brought from home?
- What for?
- To make sure they're appropriate.
- Nice.
- Very nice.
Nice? It's so not me.
It's not you, but it's Gal.
It looks like a costume, who wears this?
Could we have a few more pairs
of pantyhose?
No, no, no, no pantyhose,
are you trying to t*rture me?
What's wrong with pantyhose?
It makes underwear stuck in your butt
crack and it's annoying and uncomfortable.
I worked in sales and they made us
wear skirts and pantyhose
and it was so annoying.
But girls like Gal tend to wear pantyhose,
it conveys class and elegance.
Elegance up my butt crack...
- Pardon?
- Nothing.
- Make sure the length is right, okay?
- Okay.
- God is in the details.
- Of course.
You and God talk fashion a lot?
A true actress gets completely
into character, Margo.
You know some actresses shave
their heads for a part?
Shave their heads?
Suddenly short hair sounds nice,
doesn't it?
Make it shorter.
- Let's see you. Great.
- Not that great.
The shoes are ugly and uncomfortable.
Put the glasses on.
- Hello, Gal Shenar. Wonderful.
- What's so wonderful?
I think you need to pay me
extra ten grand for ugliness.
- And another five grand for blisters.
- I want us to start rehearsing.
I arranged a trial run for you
in a few days.
A what run?
An experiment with someone.
If she believes you're Gal, wonderful,
if not, we'll tell her it was a joke.
I do look like a joke.
- What are you doing?
- What?
What you just did with your hand
up your...
I told you, it's the pantyhose,
what can I do?
That's a vulgar gesture, a gesture
that gives away that you're not...
What? Pantyhose doesn't get stuck in
PhD candidate's butt crack?
I'm not an expert on the connection
between pantyhose and the butt,
but educated women have
a specific kind of body language
so please control yourself.
I don't like the way
you hold yourself either.
What do you mean?
Body language, different people
have different body language.
Show me what you mean.
Stand up straight, like a ballet dancer,
as if you're being pulled up by a string,
Think refined, like a princess.
Now you're Gal Shenar.
Don't wave,
you're not the Queen of England,
The photo you're holding
is of Avsha, Tamar and me.
We've been friends since preschool,
our whole lives.
Who's this?
The guy Tamar married, a pilot.
Tamar is the one we'll
conduct the trail run on.
If she believes you're legitimate,
we're all set. Tamar is my best friend.
Friend or...
- Girlfriend?
- My best friend.
Let's start practicing,
write everything down and memorize it.
- Ready?
- Yes.
Opus magnum -
someone's greatest work.
Muse - someone who is
the writer's source of inspiration.
I know what a muse is, but there's no way
I'll remember all that opus schmopus.
Listen and focus and you can. Learn it
like an actress learns her lines, okay?
Let's continue.
- Prosaist.
- Say what?
Write it down, prosaist.
A person who writes prose.
For example, you refer to me
as one of the greatest Hebrew prosaists.
- And the most modest...
- I heard that.
- Margo.
- What?
Why did you turn around?
You're Gal, not Margo, right?
- Gal.
- What?
You must focus,
now say "I'm Gal Shenar".
I'm Gal Shenar.
- Can't hear you.
- I'm Gal Shenar. Gal Shenar.
- Who's ugly.
- Margo.
- Gal.
- What?
Nice.
Prosaist.
Sorry, I just bought it,
I'll just do a little test.
- What a nice place Tamar has...
- Thank you.
"What a nice place Tamar has...". Good.
Once I interviewed in America
for the New York Times
a very famous Jewish American prosaist.
Who?
Actually...
I'd rather not mention his name, he
came on to me and got a little aggressive.
No wonder,
you're a beautiful, young woman.
I'm just okay, but you...
How old were you all here?
Twelve. Look how sad Amitai's eyes are.
It was the year his mother died,
He was very lonely, had a horrible fear of
taking part in sports, dancing.
The shyest wallflower I've ever met.
He was only friends with Avsha.
They were the outsiders of our class.
Avsha is the one who comes
to the city once a month.
You must be a very good researcher,
because I didn't even know that.
Why does Avsha come
to the city once a month?
I don't know.
- So you say they were the outsiders.
- Amitai is still a total outsider.
You know, it's so wonderful that you're
doing your dissertation about Amitai.
I've never met anyone so dedicated
to something
as Amitai is dedicated to literature.
- And paid such a heavy price.
- What price?
Solitude. He gave up having a family, was
afraid that kids that would distract him.
Do you have kids?
I had. I had...
a son. Nadav.
Several years ago,
in the army,
he was k*lled in training.
Just like that, in training.
I'm sorry, I just... It's been a while,
but every time I...
think of it, it makes me feel
such sorrow that I can't...
And I know it's wrong to
live out your life like that...
You haven't even tasted your tea
and I didn't ask if you take sugar
or saccharine, although you don't need
to use saccharine.
Oh f*ck...
Sorry, bad army habit,
I'll get a rag, it's no big deal.
What?
What's wrong?
I wasn't good? It didn't work?
- "Oh f*ck"?
- I spilled my tea, I'm sorry.
So she thought...
She thought you're delightful,
and most importantly,
she thought you were Gal Shenar.
Well done, you did it.
Now we'll take it up a notch,
run the risk and go for the real thing.
Interpretation.
Inter-pre-ta-tion.
- Interpretation.
- Interpretation.
Paradoxical.
- Paradossali.
- Paradoxical.
It comes from ancient Greek.
"Para" - beyond, "doxa" - opinion.
Oh, I thought it was from "para dosa,"
modern Hebrew for "religious cow."
- Not funny.
- A little funny.
Not funny.
Let's be serious, Margo.
- Gal.
- Gal.
Kariv's biggest sin wasn't
in his bombastic prose,
although that was also quite annoying.
Avraham Shlonsky used to call
writers who wrote like that
"writers with an itch for kitsch."
An itch for kitsch, get it?
Genius, isn't it?
Every interview felt like a game
of Russian roulette.
One mistake and boom, it's all over.
But I... felt like I was finally
awakening from a deep sleep.
I felt.. alive.
Now comes the greatest challenge...
You have an opportunity to tell
our most important literary critic,
Uriyah Hermon, who wrote a lukewarm
review about your book,
what you think of him.
Out of all the critics, Uriyah Hermon
is the most dangerous.
The most hostile, the most malicious
and to my chagrin, the most intelligent.
I think this is the show
my sister's husband works on.
- He does? Why didn't you tell me?
- You didn't ask.
Don't worry, I told him nothing.
Why do you think I have something
against this wonderful man?
- Tell me, how old are you?
- 33.
So it's not too late for a career change.
Like medicine or Japanese
or Japanese medicine.
Or Japanese flower arrangement.
You have many career options,
but literature isn't one of them.
Brutal. You know,
there are many literary critics
and most of them are good
and serious people who love literature
and even if they write bad things about
me, I respect their reasoned opinion,
sometimes I learn from it too.
But with Hermon it's different,
he's like a public executioner,
once we even met on the street and I...
couldn't control myself and...
What? Did you beat him up?
Good for you.
In any case,
we have one thing going for us,
that we know that Hermon's
a huge admirer of Uri Nissan Gnessin.
So, before you elaborate
on your dissertation,
tell him that your first choice
was writing about passion and perversity
in Uri Nissan Gnessin's works.
Passion and perversity, interesting.
So there's someone else besides you.
who writes dirty books
Not funny.
Amir. Amir. It's the monster. Ready?
Hello, hello, Mr. Hermon,
nice to meet you.
- This is our director, Amir Hadad.
- How are you?
Hadad? I was told you're Italian.
No, I'm from here,
I studied in Rome, I've been living
and working there for many years.
So from the dolce vita
to our little village here. -
- Yes.
- It's not too dolce here.
And I understand your film is
about Israeli and Palestinian authors
who deal with
the Palestinian-Israeli conflict.
Yes, something like that.
My condolences.
Such an unoriginal topic.
Oh well, if I perish, I perish.
Whatever, let's begin.
- Excuse me. Excuse me.
- Yes.
I have a meeting with Uriyah Hermon, he
said to ask at the entrance where he is.
I think they're upstairs.
In 1958 two important books appear,
almost simultaneously,
"Days of Ziklag" by S. Yizhar.
Very political, very provocative.
Forget it, that was 30 years ago,
today the world's completely different,
nowadays everyone wants to be a prophet
and eat from the plate too.
Literature has become bourgeois,
it got fat, no one takes any chances.
Excuse me, they're filming in there,
one moment.
I'm looking for Uriyah Hermon.
Is that him in there?
Yes, they're almost done.
Say, do I know you?
No, I don't think so.
I live in Denver, Colorado.
I'm getting my PhD there
at the university.
I'm writing about a fairly
unknown Israeli writer,
but very interesting,
paradoxically speaking.
It's weird, you look so familiar,
my memory's like a sponge,
I remember everything.
I think they're done, so I'll be going.
I'm sorry, I've got to go, thank you.
Mr. Hermon.
- Gal Shenar, we have a meeting.
- Yes, yes, I remember.
We can sit here,
we can have some coffee, we can...
Forgive me, where are my manners,
this is Amir...
Sorry, I don't remember your last name.
- Hadad, Amir Hadad.
- Gal Shenar.
- Are you making a film?
- He is, he's a director from Rome.
Director is a big word,
I'm making a documentary.
A modest film director,
who ever thought?
Gal is doing her PhD
that will become a book
about a very insignificant and bad author.
I'm trying to convince her
that I have nothing good to say
about this character.
I'm sorry.
We have to go. Thanks again.
Good luck.
- Nice to meet you.
- Me too.
Let's go, guys.
- Shall we begin?
- Yes, yes.
- Doesn't she look really familiar?
- She does, right?
There's something odd about her.
What did she say her name was,
Gal Shenar?
Yes, Gal Shenar.
I know I saw her somewhere else,
but... different.
Mr. Hermon, firstly,
I'd like to thank you for your time.
I usually don't do interviews but
someone writing about Amitai Kariv
is very odd, intriguing.
Almost perverse.
It's interesting that you say perverse,
at first I considered writing
about passion and perversity
in Uri Nissan Gnessin's works.
Now that's interesting. I must ask, why
do you want to write about Amitai Kariv?
Everything's so schematic, all his
characters are mentally-sound kibbutzniks,
people with principles and vision,
self-righteous cauliflowers.
What's interesting about that?
But Kariv also has descriptions
of passion and sex.
It's all so romantic
and sentimental and sappy,
it's always the beautiful girl,
the ideal otherworldly lover,
and always the skinny, transparent boy
whose unrequited love
is as eternal as death,
it makes me want to puke.
Amitai?
Oh, good, you got champagne,
because we need to celebrate.
What a show I put on there, that wuss
Hermon believed I'm Gal Shenar.
You have a message
on the answering machine.
- From who?
- Press play.
Hello again, to the very impressive
Miss Shenar,
it's your new friend speaking,
Uriyah Hermon.
I still don't know why you're wasting your
time on a third-rate writer like Kariv
but if you see something in him,
perhaps I should read him again.
You hear that?
It worked, he even wants...
But I'm calling because
that director from Italy
asked me to get in touch
with you for his film,
he's interested in your perspective
and he'd like to film you...
What do you have to do
with that director?
Nothing.
He just happened to be there,
he interviewed Hermon for his film,
we barely exchanged a word.
But if you want me to be filmed as Gal...
Absolutely not.
When there's a book, no one will remember
what you look like but if there's footage
and she comes here, for a press conference
it'll be obvious that she's not you.
Okay, I'll call him to say
I'm not interested, I'm too shy.
Shy? You?
Or if you want, I can call him and
apologize that I don't have the time...
I'll explain that you're a super-genius
and that he should meet you
and perhaps film you.
Then maybe you'll be in his film
or maybe he'll turn one of your book
into a film.
What do you say? It's a good opportunity.
For you.
Margo.
- Margo.
- What? What's wrong?
Get up, it's important.
- Okay, call him.
- Who?
- The Italian director.
- Now? What time is it?
I want to reach him
before he starts filming.
So call him now
and tell him exactly what I tell you.
- Dan Acadia Hotel.
- Hello, may I speak to Amir Hadad?
- One moment.
- Thank you.
I'm putting you through.
- Hello.
- Hello, this is Gal Shenar.
Yes, thanks for calling back.
I wanted to ask how you feel
about speaking on film, about
your generation's perspective.
I don't really think
I have anything to contribute.
You have a lot to contribute.
You're writing about Amitai Kariv,
a writer who usually writes
about the kibbutz,
an Israeli institution that's being
demonized. What do you say?
I say that your film
sounds very interesting
but you really should
interview Kariv himself.
He's a very smart man, a revolutionary.
He writes at such a high level,
so serious. You really should.
Sounds interesting,
could you arrange that?
Tell him he could film at our kibbutz,
it's very cinematic.
You could film at his kibbutz,
it's very cinematic.
Don't get me wrong, but perhaps
you and I could meet
to talk about him and about his writing.
What do you think?
How about this afternoon?
Only if you feel comfortable, of course.
You need the bathroom?
Sorry, I'm almost done.
You're overdoing the w*r paint.
You're going to a meeting, not a date.
Gal is a modest girl,
she'd never overdo this.
I must. The director is from Rome.
He's used to girls who look...
Gal, you won't do anything foolish,
will you?
More foolish than getting this haircut?
I look like someone's aunt.
Hello.
Thank you for coming.
A pool, how nice,
but it's still a bit cold, no?
Cold? It's snowing in Rome.
Must be cold in Colorado...
Yes, it is.
When I was little, I lived in a place
where there was no public pool
and at the nearby kibbutz
there was a nice big one
no matter how much we asked,
they'd never let us swim there,
they thought we were dirty or...
Primitive. Me too,
I also lived in a neighborhood
next to a ritzy neighborhood
where they had a real soccer field
with real grass.
They never let us play there,
no matter how much we pleaded.
But sometimes at night
we'd try to sneak in, it was our dream.
Great dream, stolen water.
No, no, we didn't steal anything,
really, we barely ever got in.
I didn't mean you stole something,
it's just an expression, "stolen water
is sweeter", it's an expression.
That's right... "sweeter"... Funny.
- Shall we order?
- Would you like to drink or eat or...
- What are you having?
- A Tom Collins.
Oh, Tom Collins, me too.
- Interesting book?
- Yes, yes, it's Pasolini.
When I'll make a feature film,
I'll make it a magical realism film.
- You know what I mean?
- Of course, of course.
To be honest,
films are my biggest dream,
I even studied theater in high school
and was in the year-end play
but I've always dreamed
of acting in films.
I mean, you know, of course I was
more interested in books,
that's why I majored in literature
and I got a scholarship
and that's how I ended up in Colorado
and not in Hollywood.
Taxi, sir?
Of course, for her,
please charge my room.
- Of course. This way.
- That's okay, Amir, I'll take the bus.
Out of the question, production will pay.
I'll ask my producer and perhaps
we'll go to the kibbutz to film Mr. Kariv.
- It sounds very interesting.
- All right.
Could you come along
with us to the kibbutz?
Perhaps you'll get
some material for your dissertation.
I'd love to, really, but it's up to him.
Will you let me know?
Mommy, the monkey is talking to me,
and I think I understand.
Such a smart boy, a wonder...
- Tamari, are you okay?
- Every muscle in my body aches.
Including those I didn't know I had,
the earlobe muscle.
Such t*rture.
What are you doing here when you
have a beautiful girl hanging around home?
She's not hanging around,
she's working.
She can do both.
- Isn't having her there stirring for you?
- Stirring? What am I, a wheel?
As for your question
about what I'm doing here,
I just came from a meeting
a few blocks away,
your best friend is going to star
in a documentary
about significant Israeli and Palestinian
authors of the 20th century.
You movie star you...
I convinced the director
to come with his film crew
to film at the kibbutz, tomorrow.
I thought maybe, if you're up for it.
- You want me to come along?
- I'd like that, if you can.
I'm the best...
You can't say I'm not thorough.
What?
It's a journalist who can check
at Northwest Colorado University
if there's a PhD candidate
called Gal Shenar.
Imagine there's no such person.
What a story, huh? Finally.
If so, we'll have a thriller.
Very original.
You're the world's best producer.
Yaeli, they're here.
You're not staying at the motel,
what are you, millionaires?
You and the director guy can stay in the
boys' room and The girls in our room.
No, it's okay, the motel is fine...
No way, you're my guests today.
Where will you and Yael sleep?
At Amikam and Shuli's, remember them?
The house next to the public pool,
next door to Mirika the laundress.
Want some cake and coffee
or start sh**ting?
I worked in the cow shed for five years.
Getting used to this foul-smelling
manure wasn't easy.
Especially when you're not...
one of the guys.
Do you feel like that slighting
has marked your adult life?
Now that you're older, do you still feel
you have something to prove?
What's wrong?
Is it true you come to
Tel Aviv once a month?
What?
- Of course, yes, didn't you know?
- No.
I just happened to find out. I thought
we told each other everything...
Yeah, what... I thought I told you...
Didn't I tell you? That's strange, I...
I go there for...
Kabbalah classes.
Are you becoming religious?
Are you nuts?
It's just for enlightenment.
See, I don't tell anyone
because of questions like that.
- Wait, where are we going?
- Who said "great dream"?
- Are you serious?
- Yes, I'm serious.
- Now?
- Now, now, come on.
Oh no, it's locked.
I don't think it's a good idea.
Well?
Leave your underwear on. Like
a bathing suit, what's the difference?
- You don't want to swim?
- I don't know.
You don't know
or you don't know how to swim?
No, I know how to swim, but...
Gal.
Gal.
Gal.
Gal!
Gal!
Gal. Gal.
Gal... sh*t, sh*t, no, no, please.
Gal.
Gal.
That's not funny.
It's a little funny.
- I scared you.
- You're a good actress.
Really good.
You there! What are you doing there?
Who the heck are you?
What are you doing here?
- Where are my...
- Run! Over there!
This is trespassing!
Shame on you!
What's my worst Kibbutz memory?
Bluma's patties.
Oh god. They're the worst.
Where's the pay phone?
At the entrance,
I'll show you in a minute.
Great.
Wait, you said you'd come with me
to my mother's.
Sorry, I totally forgot I have a meeting
in ten minutes, I'm sorry.
I can go with you if you'd like,
if it helps.
You should know,
that for her, my son is still alive.
She talks about him as if he's still with
us and we mustn't tell her otherwise,
it might devastate her. So I have
to maintain this lie, this fantasy
and it tears me apart, and I
immediately start crying. I can't help it.
I don't want her to see me crying,
so I need you to talk a lot.
- Yes.
- Just get her eyes off me.
Don't worry, I'm good at talking.
Really, I can talk for hours.
Yes.
Are you sure about that?
Okay, thanks for the help, bye.
Excuse me, can you direct me
to the old arab village ruins?
You know the story,
the kibbutz wasn't built on land
that Palestinians abandoned,
the kibbutz was built on land
that was purchased with money.
Still, they drove away the people
who lived here, who worked the land,
the settlers knew people lived here.
We need to honor the past,
but we also need to let it go,
otherwise there's no progress.
How can two peoples live here if
we keep dwelling on the past? How...
Is there a problem?
No, no, just an urgent manner.
Be right back.
Okay.
What did he say?
- That she does exist.
- What does that mean?
There is a Gal Shenar
at Northwest Colorado University.
A PhD student, also took
her Master's there too, There is no story.
- It's so nice to see you smiling again.
- I love you. And Yael.
First of all, thanks for these two days.
I learned so much.
May I invite you to dinner here
at the hotel? Production will pay.
I'm leaving tomorrow,
it'll be a farewell meal.
Sure, I'd love that.
Wait, Gal, you forgot...
you promised your husband
and daughter to call.
You also need to transcribe
the interviews with Uriyah Hermon.
I apologize,
we'd love to join you for dinner
but Gal is leaving in a few days
and there's lots of work to do.
Okay...
- I see.
- Wait, Amir!
What about the book you said you'd lend me
if I'll send it back to Rome, remember?
I'll wait in the lobby for you
to bring it down.
What book?
The one about that director you
were reading when we first met.
- Oh, Pasolini.
- Pasolini, exactly.
- I'll be right back.
- No problem.
Make it fast.
- Why butt in?
- Tamari, I have a responsibility.
The other day her husband called long
distance from Colorado, worried about her.
She came here for me. You want
her family to fall apart because of me?
You know how I know you're lying?
Your lips move.
Suddenly you're so eager
to read a book?
You rarely read books in Hebrew,
and now you're reading books in Italian?
I'm talking to you.
Do you understand any Italian?
None of your business.
You're my business,
I pay you well enough.
Why did you have to tell Amir
about my husband? I mean, her husband?
Can't I have a little fun? I told
him nothing, for him I'm Gal Shenar.
But what'll happen if you two get closer?
Will you keep lying?
He'll find out.
You and I have an agreement and
you're in breach.
Fine... What now?
You have a few interviews to finish,
then fly away to LA,
to your life of stardom.
You know what? I'll give you a 5,000
shekel broken heart bonus, okay?
When I was a boy, I liked playing chess,
including simultaneous chess
against the Israeli champion.
I was the only one who didn't lose. It's
hard to make moves I don't anticipate.
You have a dream, and it's important that
no one will get in the way of that dream.
What do you mean?
Love is distracting
and I don't want you distracted.
Yeah, I've heard about
that theory of yours.
The key to your wonderful life.
You need to dress up as Gal.
Gershon Shaked confirmed
he can meet this afternoon.
Okay.
- Also, a "good morning" would be nice.
- Good morning.
You know who Shaked is? He's the one who
snubbed me in the Hebrew Fiction Lexicon.
He claims there are 100 Israeli authors
worthier than me.
There's no milk for coffee.
- I'll go get some.
- No, you're writing, I'll go.
Here's some money.
And Ms. Shenar, you won't do
anything crazy now, will you?
Crazy?
Like getting buttermilk instead of milk?
- Mr. Ojechov, can I make a local call?
- Yes, my dear.
- Dan Acadia Hotel.
- Hello, may I please speak to Mr. Hadad?
- One moment.
- Thank you.
- I'm sorry, he's not available right now.
- No answer?
- All right, then I'll leave a message.
- One moment.
Hi, Amir, it's Gal.
I'm sorry
I didn't make it last night, I...
I'll try to call you later
before you leave for the airport.
Kisses.
Mr. Ojechov, it's a strange question, but
I think I know this woman from somewhere,
what's her name?
Change.
I have no idea what happened,
I suddenly feel like writing a new book,
first time in years. You're my muse,
and I'm going to thank you in the book.
Don't thank me, thank Gal.
If you're making coffee,
I'd like some too.
Yes, I'll boil some water.
- Something's wrong with the refrigerator.
- What's the problem?
- Was it working before?
- Yes.
Strange,
I never had any problems with it.
It's was unplugged.
We bad-mouthed the fridge for no reason.
- Can you boil the water? I forgot.
- No problem.
You know,
I forgot how exhilarating it is to write.
It gives me a reason
to get out of bed in the morning.
That's an excellent review of Ida Zurit's
book on Nathan Alterman's poetry.
Gal took Zurit's writing as a model
for the book she's writing about me.
Gal already let you read what she wrote?
Is that legitimate practice
in dissertations?
Yes. In literature, there's expected
tension between practice and passion...
Gal shared with me
her excitement about the book...
Yes, of course. So, how is she feeling?
- Better? Are her parents still with her?
- Yes, she's feeling a bit better.
And is her father? Still with her?
- What's your problem? Be frank.
- Why, because you're frank?
I usually don't care
what people think of me.
Promiscuous, no problem.
Manipulative, flighty... fine.
But I really don't like
people to think I'm stupid.
- I don't think you're stupid, Margo.
- You think a liar can con a liar?
- A liar? Who's a liar?
- You're a liar.
Gal Shenar wrote her
dissertation about you?
The woman in the photo you showed me?
That's Gal Ojechov,
or Gal Shenar - her married surname -
the daughter of the grocery owner.
She's not in the hospital
and she wrote nothing about you,
she's an economics student.
So who's calling you from Denver?
Or was it just a wake-up call you ordered
so the phone rang whenever you needed?
Faking a conversation? You think
I'm stupid? Who wrote the dissertation?
You?
You wrote about yourself?
What did you think...
You wrote about yourself
and used me as a front?
You needed someone real,
so people from the literary world
would actually meet her,
then when the book is published,
they'd say
"oh, of course we met Gal Shenar", right?
You're such a pathetic fame junkie,
such a lying lowlife...
Enough!
What do you know about my reasons?
What do you know about my life?
About my pain?
You know what people do
to defend their art?
So that it doesn't perish?
Agnon, that Shaked admires so much,
30 years he and his wife worked
to get him the Nobel Prize.
30 years!!!
Do you know how many authors and poets
arranged fictitious prizes for themselves?
And fictitious recommendation letters?
And fictitious fans?
Do you have any idea what artists do
just to get people to notice them?
If there's anything worse
than being hated,
it's being ignored.
Not being of interest to anyone.
And then the haters proceed to erase...
everything you've ever done.
Margo,
please don't tell anyone about this.
If you want to get on a plane tonight,
I'll arrange everything
with the travel agency.
Honk if I take too long.
Amir, no more than 10 minutes, okay?
Hello.
- I hope I'm not disturbing.
- No, no, come in.
Would you like some coffee or tea?
No thanks, I'm in a rush to the airport.
Gal?
is she here?
No, I'm sorry,
she'll be so sorry she missed you.
Sorry for taking your time, but I don't
even know how to get in touch with her.
Look, this has never happened to me,
falling so quickly for someone...
I'm usually very shy,
it takes me a while to open up...
with her it was...
a short acquaintance, but...
she felt... so real to me.
Sorry, broken heart issues,
who cares.
I care.
Okay, you won, it's messed up, but...
I'll honor our agreement.
At least give him back the book
I borrowed.
Margo, please...
I respect attraction
between two young people
but this has reached a dangerous point.
That Amir doesn't want you, he wants
Gal Shenar, the PhD candidate.
So if I'm not a PhD candidate,
I'm nothing?
Not good enough? Worthless?
You misunderstood me,
you're worth much more,
you're a unique person, Margo,
you're a talented actress,
you played Gal and everyone believed you.
You're a great actress,
you have no future with someone
who wants Gal. He must wants Margo.
because someday Margo will shine.
Take the money and leave tonight.
Make something of yourself.
Something great. I believe in you.
Well?
What?
- I'm going to faint.
- My dear fainter...
Now you're going to read the whole thing
and afterwards there'll be a pop quiz.
And what will you do?
Sit and watch me read?
In folk literature, this moment is called
"the realization of the hidden wish".
The nobody becomes somebody,
the beauty falls in love with the beast,
the story is over and done with.
A happy end.
Only in my case, it wasn't over
and definitely not done.
Every revolution begins with words,
a call for a revolution.
Words can be as volatile as all...
What nonsense.
It's manipulative, humiliating bullshit,
an insult to one's intelligence.
Turn it off.
- What do you want to do?
- I don't know!
We're trying so hard
to create something that isn't real.
You're right, but we've been here
for three months
and we're still in the same spot.
We need to try something extreme.
I have no problem with extreme,
I like extreme.
Editing room number six.
Yes, he's here. Just a moment, please.
Who is it? A woman.
I'm sorry I didn't return it to you
sooner... your Pasolini.
I thought we'd...
meet that night.
- What are you doing here?
- Here in this hotel?
I'm on my way...
back to Israel from LA and...
I stopped over here for the night.
- To return the book?
- No.
To apologize for vanishing like that.
And if I ask you why did you vanish,
will you tell me the truth?
Or will you lie like you lied
about Gal Shenar?
I'm sorry.
But if you know I lied, you must
understand why I vanished, right?
Something to drink?
A Tom Collins, please.
And for her?
Two Tom Collins, please.
No, Amir, listen, I... I really don't
have the money to pay for it,
I barely have enough for my hotel and
the bus to the airport... so... here...
Just so you know...
I called Gal Shenar but she was surprised
to hear we met in Israel
because she hasn't been there
in two years.
So tell me, as you're not Gal Shenar,
who are you?
I'm an actress, I mean... Sorry.
In Los Angeles they didn't think
I'm an actress, so...
I'm nothing.
Well, if you're acting now, then
in Los Angeles they know nothing,
because you're very good.
What were you two thinking,
Why did you con me?
I can't tell you.
Thank you.
Did you prepay your hotel?
Not yet.
Then you can save money and sleep
at my place.
No, no, no.
- On my sofa.
- No.
Separate rooms, like in the kibbutz.
I'm putting your suitcase on the sofa,
I'll get you sheets and a blanket.
Are you hungry?
Smells good.
Tell me if you need salt,
or as the Arab proverb my mother quotes:
"never give advice or salt unless asked".
Where are your parents from?
From Haifa.
Wow, this is delicious,
it doesn't need any salt.
But before Haifa, where did they live?
Is it Egyptian Arabic, Iraqi Arabic?
It's Haifa Arabic.
My parents are Arab.
So am I.
Hmmm? That's it?
Doesn't that startle you?
No. Not at all... I think.
Usually there's a problem
even when someone says there isn't.
Actually, I thought you found me out
and chose to vanish.
I'm not like that.
I have no idea what you're like,
I just know you lie a lot.
Sorry.
My parents conduct important conversations
and share secrets while doing the dishes.
Amir, if you're trying to get me
to open up, then I can't. Really.
I can't even tell you my real name.
And while we're at it,
why were you so secretive?
It's never easy for me to be in Israel,
and I wanted to focus on work,
so I didn't tell.
I understand. People always
judge you superficially.
Yes.
- f*ck it.
- What?
Margo Mai.
I don't understand.
My real name is Margo Mai,
I mean, it's kind of my real name.
Margalit Maimon, originally.
- All right. Margalit.
- Margo.
Okay, Margo.
Just like that?
I can head back to the sofa
if I'm bothering you.
You're not bothering me.
You're scaring me.
Scary? Me?
What?
I want to be sure that you won't
disappear again.
I don't want to have my heart
broken again. It hurts too much.
Time went by and it seemed
everything worked out.
Tamar didn't move in,
but each week she spent here a few nights.
Although in a separate bedroom,
but I didn't need much more than that.
- Wow, how long has this been in here?
- A long time.
- Shall we drink it?
- We shall.
These were three good years.
Peaceful.
When she was by my side,
I felt like I was in paradise.
But if I had any sense,
I would've remembered how the
Garden of Eden story ended.
- Amitai.
- I'm in the kitchen.
I was watching the news
and forgot I had rice cooking.
- It's all burnt. Can you turn the TV off?
- Yes.
The film "The Opportunity" that
will open in Israel in two weeks
was made on a low budget
and is the festival's Cinderella.
It's Amir Hadad's first film, based on
personal experiences of Margo Mai...
Amitai. Amitai, come quick.
...And also, Hadad's life story.
- What happened?
- Watch.
Look, it's Amir who made a film that's
showing in that festival and that's...
It's Gal Shenar, isn't it?
She dyed her hair and
changed her name, but... it's her.
- I don't know.
- Don't know?
It's her. She's an actress now.
The director,
just like his actress wife...
Her husband? They got married.
It's a film about identities
and their significance...
Look at him. We have to see this film.
Tamar insisted we go see the film
in a preview screening.
And I had no choice but to agree.
I'm taking a huge risk by sending
you to interview my best friend
who knows me best.
If she falls for the identity we created
for you, we can start the game.
Is this her?
Who is this standing beside her?
Her husband,
a pilot who died just a few weeks ago.
He was a horrible man,
cheated on her all the time.
Poor thing. Didn't you tell me
her son was k*lled in the army?
- What kind of a person are you?
- Just like you, I want a better life.
We'll both do anything to succeed,
won't we?
I saw the film at a press screening
and what can I say?
I'm curious if the story is based on
something I've long suspected.
Wait, why are you showing this photo?
Are you implying...
There's a very surprising likeness
between the leading actress, Margo Mai,
in this excellent Italian film
and the PhD candidate
who wrote the book, Gal Shenar,
whom you met a few years ago.
Indeed, I remember her very well.
And now that Margo Mai is
on her way to Israel for the premiere,
it will all become clear.
You should know I've booked an
exclusive interview with her in two days.
- Who is it?
- Tarzan King of the Apes.
Tamar told you.
Amitai, I love you dearly
but this is no solution.
It's the only solution.
I have to leave the country,
when this rumor becomes fact,
I'll become a laughing stock.
You know what hurts me the most?
Tamar.
- She despises me.
- She's angry. She feels deceived.
I admit I was wrong,
but why despise me so?
She has always loved my books, so
I wrote this one in secret. So what?
Am I the only one who's living a secret?
Does she not know anyone else
who's living a lie?
What? What do you mean?
You created a fake character,
a false cover story,
- I didn't do that. I just tell people...
- You're so righteous, Avsha?
You're studying Kabbalah, Avsha?
If only someone could speak with her
and explain that I'm not evil.
I'm no different than her or you,
I'm no different than anyone.
- Someone.
- Someone. Who's dear to her.
You know, sister,
that I hate you so much...
- But you also love me, don't you?
- A little.
- You're so jealous.
- Shut up, you're so annoying.
Margo Mai a star, who'd ever thought.
Okay, let's talk about work.
Razi, the interview is tomorrow morning?
as agreed, with critic Uriyah Hermon,
who vividly remembers Gal Shenar.
This will be great PR for the film.
Kabbalah... You just lied to my face?
Kabbalah did sound strange,
but I thought...
I'm such an idiot...
- You're not an idiot.
- I'm so gullible.
There are matters that you
don't even discuss with yourself,
let alone with others.
And you know that in your own life there
were issues that up to the funeral...
...didn't you also put on a show?
A show?
Whenever you and your husband
came to the kibbutz, you pretended to be
the perfect couple, loving and successful.
Meanwhile he's cheating on you're
miserable, popping pills like Mentos.
That's not...
Tamari, I love you dearly,
and we never spoke about this.
But you're also screwed up, hiding secrets
just like the rest of us, right?
Okay, but I don't...
I just may have put on a little show
sometimes, but you, since when?
Since I was 14. That was when
I first started fantasizing about boys.
How are you, Tamar?
Up until a few days ago,
things were much better.
Listen, Tamar,
you're a very, very nice person
and I thought about you a lot
when we started writing,
- I was worried you might get upset.
- But you got over your worry.
Tamar, I'm not going to apologize,
he used me.
And now you're using him.
That's the way of the world.
Can I have a moment alone with...
Listen, you... are really a good person
and you come out that way in the film...
I don't care about that.
Margo, I came to ask you,
please don't tell, it'll k*ll him.
The thing about the film is that
it's a real story, that's the point.
- And besides, everybody knows.
- Everybody's guessing,
until you'll say it out loud on camera
it's just speculation.
- People I interviewed recognized me.
- You have a twin sister...
There are 1,000 explanations,
who'd argue with you?
Margo, just so you know, I hate him, it's
humiliating that we were friends,
but for him it's a death sentence.
Why is it humiliating
that you were friends?
Because he's not what I thought he was,
in fact, he's the complete opposite.
He's not just dishonest,
he's a liar and a cheat.
Now you're just annoying and coy.
- Why coy?
- Because he did this all for you.
- For me?
- For you.
- What's my benefit?
- You are the benefit. His benefit.
That's all he ever wanted.
To impress you as much as he could.
He's an as*h*le and a lousy writer,
but he's a great romantic.
There are two things he loves to death,
his books and you,
though you didn't reciprocate.
That's not true.
I always respected him.
Respect my a*s. You married
someone you thought was better
and that's okay, you prefer
whomever impresses you...
- Sorry, I have an interview...
- Please don't tell, please.
- He's liable to do something drastic.
- It's too late.
It's not too late, it's his life.
Think of all the good
that came because you met him,
the film, Amir...
I accept everything you said about him...
and you're right, but still,
you owe him... You know I'm right.
- She looks a little different.
- No wonder.
When you met her,
she was playing a role.
Tamar, even if I owe him, it's too late.
I spoke with Hermon for an hour
face to face...
Judging by the film, you're the
greatest liar in history, so lie now.
Save him, it's not too late.
- It's you, the famous Gal Shenar.
- Hey, Margo.
I remember our meeting very well.
You left a great impression.
Such a crazy story, huh?
The film, of course, is wonderful,
your acting, Gal, is fantastic.
It takes huge talent to play someone real.
So tell us how it all began?
I can hear you, open up.
She didn't tell.
She didn't?
I think you are saved,
but... if you ever lie to me again...
It won't happen,
Tamari, I swear, it won't happen.
Margo didn't name me.
She didn't tell the character in the film
is based on Amitai Kariv.
The big scandal never happened.
but the book about me was dismissed.
As were the rest of my books.
No one will remember me.
No legacy for me.
And Tamar? All seemed calm,
but she never forgot what happened.
At least that's how I felt.
I was afraid to reach out again.
Once a month we'd take a trip, but
I never dared to try and take her hand,
no matter how much I wanted to,
how much I longed for her.
I was scared.
Look, doesn't she look like... Margo Mai?
I don't know.
It's her.
The big star, dreamed of Hollywood,
red carpets, look where she ended up.
A measly community center in Haifa.
She achieved what she achieved.
That's okay, no?
- I thought it was you two.
- Amir. How are you?
- Okay, relatively speaking.
- So you're back here?
We live in Rome, but we're often here,
my parents help out with the kids.
- Want to see photos?
- They're cute kids.
Tamar.
Tamar.
I thought it was you.
- You look exactly the same.
- I wouldn't say that, but you...
You're stunning, and the band...
With the band I'm starting over,
the first film was very successful
but the two that followed tanked badly.
But you taught me not to give up
when bad things happen.
Then come say hello.
I don't really have anything
to say to the prosaist,
I just wanted to say hello to you.
Say hello to him as well.
There's a statute of limitations
period on anger, right?
I know you're mad at her
but if there's anyone to blame for
using your story, it's me. Not her.
Enough already.
I just want to tell you that I think
your character in my film is inspiring,
going all out to protect your art.
Boys!
Kind of like a class reunion, no?
Shall we shake hands or something?
I'd rather not.
- This girl she saved your life.
- After nearly destroying it.
After you lied and humiliated me,
turning me into your marionette.
Marionette? You stabbed me in the back.
- I trusted you, you used me.
- I used you?
You have no shame.
You think they'll k*ll each other
if we leave them alone?
- Let's go dance.
- It's okay, Amir.
- Look. Your woman is so lovely.
- She's not my woman.
I thought you two... She's not...?
It's amazing how smart you are,
but still, you know nothing about life.
- I really pity you.
- I don't need your pity.
Yes you do.
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Monkey House, The (2023)
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