It’s been about 50 posts since I went on about how impactful
I found Unorthodox. As a result, I bought and read the book,
and then looked about for any similar sort of drama that might have a Haredi setting
or element. Turns out that that show’s
star, Shira Haas, is
already known for just the thing I was after: Shtisel. But where would I find a boxset about an ultra-Orthodox
Jewish family living in Jerusalem? Netflix of course. Praise be that we live in an age of instant
international distribution. About a year
ago, then, I started making my way through the first series. Now, you’ll have seen me post here about all
sorts of shiny and glamorous productions (Bridgerton,
The Mandalorian), so let’s manage our expectations
that this was a bit of a departure. Hailing
back to 2013, we’re not awash in expensive special effects or high drama. Instead, this is a simple, sometimes
delicate, sometimes clanging piece of kitchen sink banality (with a huge dollop
of strict religious doctrine) that potters along with charm and pain, just like
any family’s life (give or take the religion part).
There’s a second series from 2015, and then, come 2020,
Netflix step in to revive things for a third.
Needless to say, as much as I was hooked by the Shtisels’ stories, the
show was never quite first choice for evening viewing when things like Watchmen or Atlanta
were on offer. Thus, Shtisel evolved
into the show I watch in the bath. This
is typically a weekend moment where I need an Epsom salts soak after too much
gym, but don’t have the attention span to sit still for 45 minutes, yet know with
certainty that any book I take in there will be dropped (the smartphone isn’t even
allowed in the bathroom as I am guaranteed to submerge it). My trusty laptop perched on some storage
boxes at a safe distance, I’m able to use my physio-prescribed dips as a viewing
occasion. But, occurring only once
weekly, this has meant it’s taken the best part of a year to get through
everything. That said, I’ve been able
throughout to respond to well-wishers’ enquiries about my current viewing with
a very smug answer: “Oh just this Israeli drama that’s most in Hebrew, you wouldn’t
know it…”
And here we have one of my other joys with the show: the languages. I don’t know any Hebrew, but the older
characters occasionally switch to Yiddish, which is much easier to
decipher. Hebrew remains, however, a
great language for shouting at relatives in, whereas the Yiddish lines really
suit moments when the elder generation want to lament the lack of religious
observance of others. Plot-wise, we have
father-and-son combo Shulem and Akiva at the heart of Shtisel. Akiva is, by his community’s standards, late
to be wed, and it’s his hunt for the right bride that propels his narrative,
mostly because he is wont to pursue inappropriate matches. Maybe it’s the artist in him, but Akiva’s
status as a dreamer is a source of much bafflement to his chain-smoking father,
Shulem. A widower himself, Shulem too
dabbles in the marriage market, sometimes via the matchmaker, sometimes with
his actual wife, but mostly with a view to dropping by for some homemade food
under the auspices of any available excuse.
Dvora, the late matriarch of the Shtisel family, looms large over all
our characters, and, in fact, Shtisel has a preoccupation with death. From Malka, the grandmother rattling about in
an old people’s home, to the untimely passing of some other characters that I
won’t spoil here, our transience on this Earth is never far from the matters in
hand.
For heathens like me, every moment of religious pageantry adds
richness and depth to the stories, and whole plots will revolve around a taboo
or ruling that simply won’t exist in the lives of others. All our menfolk are dedicated to studying the
Torah (and carrying around plastic bags), whereas marriage and motherhood
dominate the Shtisel ladies. We do need
to contrive plot, so characters will occasionally use dishonesty to pursue a
holier route or admit to being cruel to be kind so their relative stays on the
right moral path. Giti, Shulem’s
daughter, is often caught in a conundrum where she must tread a narrow
tightrope, bringing her into conflict with her eldest child, Ruchami (played
with incredible maturity by Shira Haas from our first paragraph).
Storylines wander in and out of focus, some almost going nowhere,
some veering in for what appears to be no reason, but I was throughout
compelled to find out what would happen next.
The languid pace is soothing. The
intricacies of observing a long-held faith are interesting. And there’s entertainment in wanting the best
for the whole family. Don’t get involved
if you’re expecting to laugh out loud, as the show often feels quite heavy with
seriousness, but join in if you can look through cultural, religious and linguistic
differences to enjoy the nuances of how other people live their lives. I was even moved to tears a couple of times, with
one such moment occurring on a busy Tube while I cheated on my bath viewing
policy and watched an episode on my phone simply because I had to find out what
poor old Akiva would do next. My mask
luckily hid anything embarrassing but, if anyone had asked, I would have been
desperate to show off my eclectic taste in boxsets. Fortunately, I can do that here, and you can
read it.
