This is not only a very Jewish movie, it’s a very British and a very Islamic movie dealing with the matter of multiculturalism. Omid Djalili plays Mahmud, a Muslim who discovers not only that he’s been adopted but also that he’s Jewish. The script, written by comedian David Baddiel, delivers fistfuls of one-liners (Mahmud is escorted away by security guard and retorts “You find out you’re Jewish and suddenly some bloke in a uniform is leading you away?”).
When asked about the basis for the comedy in the subject matter, Baddiel explained: “These communities and cultures are seen as at war or polarised, or at opposite sides of the fence, which allows for a body swap sort of situation to arise.” It has recently been adapted as a stage musical.
A documentary film written and directed by Lindsay Anderson in 1953. It looks at the Dreamland Fun Fair in Margate that relates to Bernard Kops’ play and novel On Margate Sands. Click on the images below or here to view the whole film.
Ron Moody, Actor Best Known as Fagin in ‘Oliver!,’ Dies at 91 http://nyti.ms/1FVcZ7C
Dickens’s Fagin, a Jew, has often been perceived as an anti-Semitic characterization, but Mr. Moody, who was also Jewish, steered clear of stereotype. “Although Dickens describes Fagin as a merry old Jew, there’s no sign of him being a Jew in his language and actions,” Mr. Moody explained.
Others, however, saw his portrayal differently. Writing about the film in The New Yorker in 2012, David Denby said Mr. Moody played Fagin “in a way that parodies Jewish stereotypes by slightly exaggerating them.”
American-Jewish theater has been making headlines in recent months, but not, perhaps, in a way that its producers would like. Instead of merely rave reviews of newly-performed or revived plays, the coverage has underscored disputes over subject matter and themes, especially relating to Israel and the Middle East. Read more...
In my family, we have a ritual. (Tradition!) After a particularly wonderful Shabbat or holiday dinner, we channel my great-grandmother Pearl Gottler and chant in unison, “Ach, I’m stoffed. I’m bloated. I couldn’t eat another bite.”
That’s what reading “Wonder of Wonders” is like. It is as rich and dense as a chocolate babka. Delicious, yes, but so crammed with tasty layers you have to pace yourself. You appreciate the gazillion buttery striations while wondering if there had to be quite so many of them.
“Harold Pinter’s artistic vision focussed less on love than on the con. Born in 1930, Pinter grew up Jewish in modest circumstances in London’s East End, the beloved only child of hardworking parents, whose own forebears had emigrated to escape the pogroms in Poland and Russia at the turn of the last century. In 1939, Pinter, along with twenty-four other kids from his school, was evacuated to a mock-Gothic castle in Cornwall. He called this separation from his parents “traumatic,” and, in Michael Billington’s ample 1996 biography, he described a heart-wrenching pilgrimage that the couple made to see him during his exile on the coast. “When they left to get the bus it was a long way back to the lodge for me to walk,” Pinter, who died in 2008, said. “But I went all the way to the castle and looked back and could just see them as pinpoints waiting for the bus on the road; and I suddenly ran all the way back to them over the mounds of grass, racing towards them and of course they came towards me too.” That was love. But there’s no drama in reciprocation. Spiritually orphaned—“There was no fixed sense of being . . . of being . . . at all,” Pinter said of his life during the evacuation—the burgeoning playwright was inducted then, and during the war-torn years that followed, into a world of displaced boys, lads who showed him how guile, lies, and emotional distance could not only help get the girl but also contribute to her destruction. “I think as a result of that loss and confusion, one became, generally speaking, nastier,” he said. “Horrid is the word. I think we were all a bunch of horrid little boys because of the loss of security.”