Gett: The Trial of Viviane Amsalem

**Spoiler Alert**

Directors: Ronit Elkabetz, Schlomi Elkabetz/Starring: Ronit Elkabetz, Simon Abkarian, Sasson Gabai, and Menashe Noy

One of the extraordinary qualities one may notice in the Israeli/French production Gett: The Trial of Viviane Amsalem is its ability to tell a spellbinding, powerful story within a claustrophobic setting; namely, an Israeli courtroom. And among many of the film's wondrous attributes is its story, which might leave one wondering how such breathtaking yet deceptive simplicity could translate to a deeply moving courtroom drama. The title suggests a woman's condemnation, which becomes all but fact in a story depicting the rabbinical court and its female-hostile, rigid interpretations of divorce. The story is mainly an indictment of a system predicated on religious dogma that denies women self-determination while reducing them to the status of chattel.

The ferociously talented Ronit Elkabetz; the film's co-writer, co-director and star, is brilliant as a middle-age wife named Viviane Amsalem, who is fed up with her failed marriage and her husband Elisha, (the terrific French-Armenian actor Simon Abkarian) who refuses to grant her a divorce.

When the film begins, we hear only male voices and for awhile, we see only men in a courtroom. The opening makes a strong statement about the male-dominated, rabbinical divorce court. We learn it is nigh impossible for a woman to be granted a divorce in Israel without the husband's consent. And though divorces are the domain of civil courts in the west, in Israel all divorces are adjudicated by Rabbi's, who also serve as arbiters of morality.

During the hearings, we understand Viviane and Elisha have been married for years and have four children to show for their troubled marriage. We learn Viviane hasn't lived with her husband for sometime; residing at her sister's home with three of her kids and supporting herself as a hairdresser in her own salon.

Serving as her attorney is Carmel Ben Tovim (Menashe Noy) while her husband is represented by his brother, Rabbi Shimon (Sasson Gabai). With a male-dominated courtroom: three rabbinical judges, two male attorneys and Elisha, Viviane seems caught in masculine vise with little hope or means of being properly heard. In the early scenes, the three rabbis presiding over the case regard Viviane menacingly; granting her moderate freedom of expression in her testimony.

As the hearings are prolonged needlessly by Elisha, who has no intention of divorcing his wife, his contempt for Viviane's position is made manifest in his repeated failures to appear before the court. While Viviane becomes increasingly frustrated, she points out to the judges that in America, repeated failures to appear would hasten a divorce but the rabbis', intent on adhering to rabbinical law, enable Elisha to delay a court judgement, thus obstructing progress. The intertitles inform us of elapsed time between hearings, which leaves the audience and the rabbis' infuriated as Elisha's stubborn refusals to grant his wife a divorce become unbearable.

A film's setting confined to a single room poses a herculean challenge to the actors and the directors, who must rely on strong performances and a solid script to shoulder the dramatic tension. Fortunately for the cast (and audience) the Elkabetz siblings know precisely how to keep the camera movements unobtrusive and make the audience both spectator and participants in the hearings.

Outstanding performances are uniform. Ronit Elkabetz herself is unforgettable as Viviane. So often we see weariness, anger and exasperation on her beautifully mysterious face, which conveys much of her character. Her eyes and the jet black hair are so expressive and so striking, it takes little effort for the audience to share her agony.
But the rest of the cast also more than meet the challenge with astonishing performances of their own. Abkarian is exceptional as the immovable husband while Sasson Gabai and Menashe Noy are riveting as dueling attorneys who are caught up in the emotional firestorm.

As months become years, the hearings continue ad nauseam as the court summons witnesses from both parties to assert or deny the marriage's soundness. Some witnesses who appear to testify for one party inadvertently help the cause of the other. Viviane's brother appears on her behalf, only to present testimony supporting her husband. Viviane's sister also offers testimony, which quickly degenerates into a funny monologue that neither helps nor hinders the hearings.

And as the hearings become a protracted ordeal, Elisha's remains steadfast and in being so, we cannot but empathize with Viviane. We also recognize the weight that Viviane and women bear in world courts where rule of law is based on religious dogma that inevitably minimalizes women's rights.

The question that we ask ourselves throughout the film is whether Viviane will ever be granted a divorce. I never divulge an ending and I won't do it here. All I will say is that I left the theater feeling ambivalent about the outcome but a film like Gett would feel false if it had ended in any other way.

The setting is very austere, as is the strategic lack of color. Black and white hues pervade. We even see the absence of color in Viviane's courtroom attire until a visually arresting, feminine red dress makes a powerful statement; defying the masculine blacks and whites both judges and advocates wear defensively. Eventually, Viviane's sartorial expression expires until she too is bullied into a black and white compliance.

Gett is so well conceived and the story executed so compellingly it is hardly premature to say it will be among the year's best. It is an unforgettable film with an unforgettable heroine, whose dignified opposition to the court and its inherently monolithic, religiously-based, female-hostile laws serves as one of the more courageous battles I've seen in cinema in some time.

This is a great film; no doubt about it.