Thirty-year-old mother and wife Shlomit leaves her home in Jerusalem and embarks on an unknown journey through the slums of south Tel Aviv, seeking an unmediated touch in life that will make her feel alive herself.
The wellspring of creativity for women never gets as thorough an examination in film as it does for men. Macabit Abramson’s first narrative feature film (she has a few documentaries under her belt) takes us through a harrowing journey charting a woman’s departure from her stable life in search of fulfillment. While the movie itself meanders, drinking deep in rich moments of ambiance, the prototype story being told here wraps up neatly by its conclusion. Abramson’s feature film lines up neatly to demonstrate an idea she’s cultivated at Tel Aviv University – the myth of Eros.
Lihi Zemel plays Shlomit, a thirty-year-old “princess” married to a good husband and mother of a sweet child. When she recognizes a void within her own life, she leaves her comfortable life behind her in order to discover her troubles. She will meet immigrants, prostitutes, and artists on her journey moving her in equal measures by showing her the other side of Israel. By the journey’s end, Shlomit finds her artistic voice, reuniting with her family a whole woman.
Abramson’s desire to tell this story stems from a lifelong study of the myth of Eros. When Eros strikes out on her own, she is drawn to a beast whose presence casts her out and irrevocably changes her. Only through a long journey is Eros accepted once again, this time changed as an artist. Our protagonist Shlomit undergoes that exact same journey.
At times, the film feels sparsely edited. Takes run long and subtext intermingles all over the place creating large amounts of confusion. The movie lives in that unspoken feeling for the first two-thirds only really lining up a narrative by the last third. Despite its sparse production, it’s rich in symbolism and dramatic heft. Lihi Zemel (Abramson’s own daughter) carries the weight of this film in equal tones of innocence and petulance. Her childlike manner shifts over time as she’s abused, assisted, loved, and hated. Her character starts out so simple but the danger around her evolves over time, surprising that the practical implications of being houseless in Israel don’t spell even greater danger.
The film keeps itself in a dreamlike world, only dipping a toe into the real world when the narrative demands it. This makes it dreamy and might drag on others’ sense of pacing, but this film feels fully realized when you learn about Abramson’s work and her efforts to bring this myth to life. Admittedly, I distracted myself by trying to establish the actual mechanics of certain scenes but the whole point of the film is spelled out in the last third when Shlomit’s husband recounts the story of Psyche and Eros.
At times simplistic and also surprisingly brutal, this film finds its footing in another world. The ethereal quality of the piece pushes our understanding, encouraging a deeper read. Plenty of David Lynch fans will gain true joy from this. It’s firmly within the arthouse world of artistry and meaning over structural narrative but sometimes we need that push to draw deeper and ask more from our media. “Woman Alive” gives us those deeper pushes for meaning, and we gain much from its languorous cinematography and editing.
Now screening on CINEJOY thru November 14th
