Interview with Beaufort Director Joseph Cedar

Towards the end of Joseph Cedar's Beaufort, the first Israeli film nominated for an Academy Award since 1984, an activist opposed to the war in Lebanon excoriates himself on a television talk show for the death of his son, Ziv, a bomb specialist in the Israel Defense Forces.

By having this grieving parent blame himself rather than generals or politicians for what happened to his child, Joseph Cedar makes a distinct ideological gesture, underlining how Israel as a whole is responsible for the continuation of the now sixty-year-old violent status quo. And by placing the responsibility for communicating such a message on the shoulders of a peace advocate, Cedar makes it clear why he believes we ought to take seriously what liberal Israelis like Ziv's father have to say.

In his earlier feature-length films, Time of Favor (2001), and Campfire (2004), as in Beaufort, the New York-born director created studies of Israel's internal struggles so detailed and accurate that they could almost function as academic monographs. Always guided by an identifiable set of political positions, Cedar's commitments consistently structure his narratives, providing a sense of optimism and resolution at every hopeless juncture. In each instance, Joseph Cedar's outlook and artistry are mutually reinforcing, making his stories speak to us that much more strongly. We walk away from his films understanding Israel better because we saw it through his eyes.

I spoke to Cedar at the end of March about Beaufort, and his next project, on which he's already hard at work.

- Joel Schalit, Zeek Media Editor

ZEEK: The last time you and I spoke, you had just decided to make a film about Veit Harlan, the director of the legendary anti-Semitic drama, Jud Suss (1940). In Harlan's film, Jewish businessman Suss Oppenheimer destroys a dukedom and rapes a German girl. What exactly is your film about? I take it that it's a lot bigger than just a biopic.

CEDAR: So far, most of the scenes are about an artistic drive that overrides everything: Harlan's moral sensibilities, his personal loyalties, and his common sense. What he's really out for is to tell a good story. Harlan thinks he understands Suss, he thinks he identifies with him, and he loves the kind of villain he's making. Harlan thinks he understands who this Suss is, but forgets the whole context. That's how he convinces his actors, that's how he convinces his entire crew - and this is a top notch crew - to go along with such a project.

ZEEK: They'd all worked with directors like Fritz Lang, right?

CEDAR: The production designer was Otto Hunte, who did Metropolis. The composer was a man named Zeller, who later worked with Alfred Hitchcock. But everyone (initially) said no. Nobody wanted to work on this film.

ZEEK: How did Harlan win them over?

CEDAR: Harlan was able to convince them because he was giving them his passion. It's not until just prior to the film's release that he finally realizes that he's being manipulated himself. When he realizes that he's done something that he regrets, he can't live with it. He doesn't know what to do. Then, after the war, when he's acquitted (on charges of anti-Semitism), he's just stuck. One of the things Harlan realizes about Suss is that he has nothing to lose. [When Suss is executed] he can finally be who he is. He doesn't have to lie to anyone. He can say what he wants, and not care about the consequences. And Harlan says, ‘I never had that."

ZEEK: That's an extremely complex portrait of the director.

CEDAR: It's still changing, but I found out that that's what most of the film is about. When it's done, we'll see what the film is really about. (Laughter)

ZEEK: So we're talking about conscience, how conscience can be suppressed, and how it's ultimately irrepressible.

CEDAR: Joachim Gottschalk is a big part of Harlan's story. Gottschalk was a very well-regarded actor who was married to a Jewish woman. When things got really bad, Goebbels told him that he had to divorce his wife. When Gottschalk said no, Goebbels sent men to deport his wife. When they got there, they found him, his nine-year old son, and his wife dead.

ZEEK: His suicide is the stuff of legend.

CEDAR: Gottschalk was a very close friend of Harlan. No one could attend the funeral because Goebbels had sent photographers, and had warned that anyone found in attendance would be put on his list. When Harlan was on trial, everyone was asking him "Why aren't you Gottschalk? Why weren't you Gottschalk? Why didn't you resist in any way? Why didn't you commit suicide?"

What Harland said in response was that "Gottschalk is a cliché. No one is ever going to tell my story, because there isn't an audience in the world who wants to admit that they would do what I did. Everyone wants to think that they would do what Gottschalk did." Which is to say, how many people would be willing to give their lives, and not make a movie?

ZEEK: Listening to you recount these specific anecdotes, as highly significant as they clearly are, I can't stop hearing how frequently these people, in every circumstance, always aestheticized their politics. Take the cliché remark, for example. Would that specific trope be a compelling reason, because it was not a unique endeavor, to not do the so-called ‘right thing'?

CEDAR: Sure. But we're dealing here with a storyteller, and that's what they do. In [my] film, Harlan has a conversation with Gottschalk, where he tries to get the actor to help him clear his conscience. Gottschalk tells him ‘I can't help you. If I could clean your conscience, I'd clean my own." And then he says to Harlan, "No one with a clean conscience becomes an artist, because it's just boring."

That helps Harlan. He says "Okay, that's true. If you have a clean conscience, you're not an artist. You have nothing to say. You have nothing to interest an audience if you're at peace with yourself. You have to be bothered by something. You have to have some lump in your chest for an audience to listen to you." And Harlan convinces himself that that's actually a good thing. An audience needs its corrupt artist, otherwise what are they going to do in the evening?

ZEEK: As a filmmaker, you're no stranger to moral dilemmas. The characters in all of your films consistently contend with any manner of struggle. How would you account for this now, in relation to Beaufort?

CEDAR: I would never account for that.

ZEEK: I was hoping you'd say that. (Laughter)

CEDAR: No, really, hopefully there's something there, but I don't want to be aware of it.

ZEEK: Of course. That would spoil things. The reason why I ask is that from the outside, Harlan seems to be a remarkable break for you, and yet a very natural one at the same time. That's not to say that you take on issues relating to the Holocaust naturally because you're Jewish.

CEDAR: I have to tell you though that the most fun part about writing this thing has to do with me finding myself familiar with some of the situations that Harlan is in, because I'm Israeli. The whole relationship between the state, or the establishment, and its storytellers and artists. That's something I felt myself forced to try and understand, especially in the last half a year.

ZEEK: How so?

CEDAR: I'll give you an example. I was at a screening in Los Angeles that the Israeli consulate had organized for Beaufort. Now, when you make a film, you don't set out to make something that will represent the country. So, when you're chosen to represent the country, you have to play the game. Especially since they're funding most of what you're doing.

So, I was at this screening, and everything was going okay. There were speeches made that I wasn't comfortable with, but it was okay because the audience was comfortable with it. There were two Israeli flags on both sides of the screen that the consulate had brought to the theatre, with these big, heavy stands. After the screening, we were talking, and there was a photographer there. Suddenly I noticed that there was this person behind me who was walking around with one of the flags, making sure that the flag was in the background whenever my picture was taken. He was following me around with the flag.

ZEEK: (Deep sigh) It's so predictable.

CEDAR: It was unbelievable. So, that's suddenly a scene in the [Harlan] film.

ZEEK: (Laughter) Oh, how perfect.

CEDAR: Usually, when you speak about the relationship between a country and its artists, you think about the price that the artist has to pay, and the compromises that they have to agree to. But no one speaks about the rewards. About how soothing it is to be told that "you're representing us" and "we're very proud of you." When a country tells you that, and it's not your mother, but the Prime Minister, it's just irresistible.

ZEEK: Some of the quotes coming out of Prime Minister Ehud Olmert's office in the weeks leading up to the Academy Awards ceremony were absolutely amazing.

CEDAR: It's hard to get used to, but once you do, it's really strange, and you expect the country to become part of your own personal career trip. So, these are the kinds of things that are finding their way into the new film.

ZEEK: It sounds like the whole Academy Awards experience was incredibly instructive, on multiple levels.

CEDAR: Yes, it was. Take Jud Suss. Harlan premiered his film in Venice in 1940. This was the Venice Film Festival, and it was Italy under Mussolini. Goebbels was in attendance. So, if you look at the aesthetics of some of the big festivals in Europe, or even the Oscars, and there's something still seemingly fascist about them, about all of these ceremonies. The trumpets, the red carpet. It feels familiar.

However, when you see Mussolini's version of the Venice Film Festival, you realize where it's all coming from. All the glamour and all of the glitz has this really sour taste to it. But it's the same thing. It started then and it's still here today. It has to do with national pride, and it has to do with propaganda.

ZEEK: The arts in Israel have a long history of being closely intertwined with politics. Both in a reactionary sense, as well as in a contrarian one

CEDAR: It's very easy to see a certain reflection of patriotism in cinema of a certain period. It's very difficult trace that all the way back to the individual intentions that a filmmaker may have had. It's something that you can really only detect afterwards. For example, take Beaufort. It's a film that shows Israeli soldiers as victims, not as aggressors. There are no moral questions concerning the Israeli army dealing with civilians, or with the occupation at all. It's a film that was funded by the government, and it had military cooperation.

Now, if you ask me, I made a film that had its own agenda. It had nothing to do with those issues. But, thirty years from now, if you take a look at this film, and you take into account how it was funded and who cooperated with it, it will fit into something that's bigger, even though there was no intention (to enter into those relations) by me.

ZEEK: How have foreign audiences reacted to the idea that Israeli troops could be considered victims?

CEDAR: The structure of war films has to do with the war that they're about. Vietnam war films are very different from WWII films, and WWII films are very different from WWI films. Vietnam films are about moral dilemmas that have to do with soldiers abusing their power against civilians, or against a weaker force. WWII films have to do with the good guys beating the bad guys.

WWI films, on the other hand, are about war. They're almost philosophical in the way that they deal with the phenomenon, especially on the French-German front, where nothing was achieved. The stories that came out of those trenches are stories that have to do with military hierarchy, with missions that lose their significance, with fear.

Somehow the situation in Lebanon, [its effect] on Beaufort, in the last part of our presence there, felt more like WWI than anything else, and I found myself using mostly references from WWI films. Now that has nothing to do with the IDF...something inspired me to try to understand national violence, not a specific situation.

ZEEK: That makes absolute sense. The parallels between the conflicts, as you describe them, are clearly present in Beaufort's narrative--the random shelling, the missile attacks that come seemingly out of nowhere, the toll the war takes on the soldiers, and how they reconcile themselves with orders coming from higher up. The contradictions that Beaufort's commander, Liraz, both lives with, and acts out, are particularly exemplary in this light.

CEDAR: Liraz is not aware of them. He isn't self-conscious enough to realize that he's in a conflict. His body is much smarter than his head. When he freezes, and doesn't go out to save his best friend, he doesn't know why. It's something his body is doing without his understanding. Once that happens, he loses his ground, and becomes a better commander. Because his vulnerability is exposed, he's forced to contend with his true vulnerability. Slowly he turns from a commander into a father, understanding that caring for his soldiers is more important than the mission. This is something that is anti-militaristic at its very core. Now Liraz himself doesn't start the story that way, and he doesn't really end the story with that awareness. But hopefully the audience, in some way, does.

ZEEK: Beaufort is also a very compelling critique of the kind of state that's willing to put its citizenry in this kind of situation. The maturation of Liraz in the film clearly has metaphorical significance in this regard, as though it were an allegory for what kind of country Israel might become at some point in time. Beaufort is Israel, according to this logic.

CEDAR: Yes, I think so. Here's why: I've had a lot of opportunity to think about Masada. When you talk to journalists, it's hard to get to the bottom of what Masada really means, and how this film relates to Masada. On a superficial level, Beaufort is the opposite of Masada.

ZEEK: Beaufort represents the anti-Masada narrative, where a nation survives instead of commits suicide. It's not a prelude to exile, but a homecoming.

CEDAR: That's only part of it. What people forget about Masada is that during that period in Jewish history, there were two competing ideologies. One was that of the rebels, who said that its better to die as a lion than live as a dog, which is an ethos that Zionism adopted completely, whereas the verse in Ecclesiastes says the exact opposite: that it's better to live as a dog than die as a lion.

Somehow the rebels in Masada, and Zionism in general, reversed this ethos. But at the same time, there was a group of rabbis led by Yochanan Ben Zakkai who decided that we could give up Jerusalem, forget the war, and move to Yavneh. Yavneh had no significance. Nothing biblical happened there. However, it's where the Talmud was written.

When you compare the rebels on Masada to the wise men in Yavneh, the rebels died as lions, and the wise men lived as dogs . But the dogs had puppies, and we are those puppies. So, there was something about blowing up Beaufort, blowing up the fortifications, blowing up the mountain, at the end of the film, that was also about blowing up a symbol of (the lion's) power. It's about our power to create something else that, at least for me, makes us different from our enemies.

ZEEK: It means that as Israelis, we can start over. That we have the ability to reinvent ourselves.

CEDAR: Not only that. It means that we have an identity without the geographical symbol, that we have an identity that is as powerful and as firm as concrete and fortifications, flags and pride.

ZEEK: We can detach ourselves from the baggage of our geography and our nationalism, essentially.

CEDAR: We can detach ourselves from our geographic baggage and reconnect to our cultural baggage. What happens at the end of Beaufort is that Liraz sheds all of his physical protection: he gets rid of the mountain, and he gets rid of the fortifications. Then, when he's back in Israel, he gets rid of his helmet and he gets rid of his gear, his vest, everything he's wearing, and he's vulnerable, almost naked. But, for the first time in the story, he's safe.