User Reviews

When it comes to films inspired by books I find the discussions about whether the book was 'better' (or not) than the film futile. I also do not consider films being 'true' to the books that inspired them as being a necessary virtue for this category. Literature and cinema are very different forms of art. They create emotions and they trigger thoughts each in very different manners. Even if the words in a play by Shakespeare or in a novel by Tolstoy are the same as in the film inspired by these, emotion comes from a different place for readers, theater audiences and movie audiences. It is somehow easier for me to avoid this kind of discussion in the case of the very ambitious project that was undertaken by already famous actress Natalie Portman for her debut as a film director, as I did not read (yet) the memoirs of Amos Oz that bear the same name - 'A Take of Love and Darkness'.

From what I get from critics and friends who have read the book, Portman selected out of the very rich and complex memoirs that cover the first fifteen years of the life of Jerusalem-born Amos Oz one specific thread with a personal touch about the relation between the young boy and his mother, and focused the film on it. This may have been a fine choice, as the change of perspective and the decryption of the character of the young woman who came to Mandatory Palestine from Europe before the breaking of the war, her cultural shock, the building of the relationship with her son, the facing of historical developments and family crisis ending in the suicide that marked the biography of the writer - all these make of some fascinating material. And yet, the film never takes off. It may have been the deep respect for the text which let director Portman believe that she must be true not only to the spirit but also to the letter of the book. Maybe a more mature director, maybe Portman herself ten or twenty years from now if she continues on the directing path, would have had courage to build a more independent story with the risk of competing with the words of the writer. She did not do it, unfortunately.

The result is a very literary film, and this is not, unfortunately, a compliment here. There are a few beautiful things in this film. Cinematography by Slawomir Idziak is exquisite - with the metaphors of dreams, of the Old Country, of the darkening skies of Europe covered by the birds of prey. Portman's acting is also sensible and touching at the key moments. The labyrinth of Jerusalem's narrow streets has both charm and also enhances the sensation of claustrophobia and pressure. Two many other aspects are however missed by: the roots of the psychological and physiologic decay of the mother, the build-up of tension between father and son that leads to the decision of the boy to change the course of his life. I am afraid that the non-Israeli audiences, or audiences not familiar with the history of Mandatory Palestine and the making of Israel will have a hard time understanding the details and the atmosphere, and there is not enough consistency in the characters (not to speak about action) to make them interested in the drama. I usually dislike using off-screen voice in movies. The words spoken off-screen are the most beautiful part of this film, and this is no wonder, as most of them are quotes from the book of the great writer who is Amos Oz. Their role in the film is to explain what the director could not translate in images. This is a problem.

This is the most boring movie I have seen for a while. There isn't much about the founding of the state of Israel if that's what you might expect to see. Instead it's mostly about the author's mother and her depression with only passing comment or two about the state of Arab Jewish relations. The melancholia headaches and death of the mother are the main story. What's so interesting about that? If it had shown her journey from Europe to Jerusalem then maybe you'd understand why she was like that. Instead it shows things that don't lead anywhere. The novelty of watching Natalie Portman speak Yiddish or Hebrew wears off quite quickly. She directed and wrote the screenplay.

I would give this one a miss. It's a tale about nothing much. For fans of this writer's work only.

Natalie Portmans Israeli directorial debut really intrigued me from the first trailer. And while it certainly is not without vision, beautiful cinematography, symbolism and poetic storytelling, its story about a son dealing with his mothers depression feels unimaginative and at times an outright bore.

That being said, Portman really shows that she knows she is doing behind camera, beautifully molding a picture. Next time i hope she decides to tell a different story with just as much passion and drive.

"A Tale of Love and Darkness" is a co-production between Israel and the United States that resulted in a Hebrew-language film that had its world premiere last year (2015). It runs for 95 minutes approximately and was written and directed by Oscar-winning actress Natalie Portman and looking at her own ethical and local background where she is from, it is no surprise that the focus is clearly on Jewry and Israel. But this is only half the truth I would say. The first 40 minutes, maybe even the first half, is the most Jewish film you will see all year with the focus on food, life, traditions, politics, phrases and many other references. They even explained some stuff to the audience in a somewhat clumsy attempt of having a father explain something to his son. The second half then is much more of a family drama as it focuses for the most part on the illness of Portman's character. Yes she also plays the female protagonist in here and only looking at the second half, you could even say the central character. In the first half, it is probably the boy. Anyway, I am not sure if my criticisms with this film are more to blame on Portman or on Amos Oz the man whose memoir the film is based on. I have not read the latter, but I guess it may be a mix of both. The really dramatic moments almost all went wrong. Kids playing around and even if one of them gets accidentally slightly hurt will not result in a crisis as it is depicted in this film with the swing scene. Another example would be the scene when Israel gets approved to exist as a country by the other countries. This was such a pivotal moment, but it was just included. It was just there and there was absolutely no build-up or mention of this process earlier and this kept it from being as effective as it could have been and felt very forgettable as a consequence. other examples would be the killings of a woman and boy which felt included just for the sake of it and in a way that we would not forget that times were harsh and dangerous. And an even bigger problem are perhaps the dialogues and also the voice-overs because these sound as pretentious as the film's title and they are there on many many occasions. One of the weakest moments was probably when the boy (in the center of the story) tells the other children this parable. It's just not working and did not feel authentic coming from a boy that age. I also don't believe it is subjective opinion, it just did not feel real and this was a problem I had on several occasions. As a consequence, I did not care half as much for the characters as I hoped I would. Overall, I believe it is an okay effort for a rookie filmmaker like Portman who has never made a full feature film before, but by general standards, this was not a good watch and if she decides to make more films in the future, i hope she can improve considerably. I don't recommend watching "A Tale of Love and Darkness". Thumbs down.

Amos Oz's memoir of his mother's enlivening imagination, disenchantment and mortal despair is a riveting human drama. But the film's widest import may relate to its backdrop — the emergence of the new state of Israel from the violence of the last days of the British Mandate through the surrounding Arab nations' determined attempt to eliminate her.

The two threads share a tragic theme, enunciated toward the end: the inevitable disappointment when a dream is realized. Both for the Oz family and the Jewish people, having a dream enlivens them and gives them the hope and the spirit to continue in the face of terrible experiences. But when the dream comes true it can prove more complicated than expected, even compromised, possibly lost.

Amos's father Arieh is a librarian hoping to become a successful novelist. His first novel promises his dream may come true. The smell of the ink is an idea — publication — made material. But the only copies sold are, secretly, to his friend.

When the Arabs' attack drives everyone in the building into the Oz flat-turned-bomb shelter, when mother Fania's best friend is killed, when daily life shrinks to fear and scrounging, the family suffers the real consequences of the Israeli dream of statehood. The dream that has sustained the suffering Jews for centuries has come painfully true.

When Fania and her extremely privileged family were forced to flee to Israel, she married Arieh, seduced by his words and confident in his ambition. Her marriage dissipates the romance. Her only surviving ardor is her total love of her son.

When Arieh comes home in his new National Guard uniform he seems a comic figure, mock heroic. Fania envisions a handsome young man driving a garden stake into the earth, in place of her bespectacled husband. The penetration is personal and political, fertilizing her and the land. He reappears in a flowing tallis amid the desert mountains, enveloping her in a vision both passionate and political. At the end, her ineluctable drive to suicide takes his form as an embracing lover. She kills herself because her romantic dream cannot accommodate her disappointing reality.

Arieh adjusts. When Fania turns him away he falls into a relationship with another woman. He lives the bathetic romantic alternative she heroically imagines. He can't understand his wife and the forces that compel her. "She punishes herself only to punish me."

He may be the writer but the inspired imagination lies in Fania. Her bedtime stories and life lessons teach Amos to deal with a dangerous reality by telling a story. Fiction sustains the dream even against real enemies, whether the schoolboy thugs who rob and beat him or the Arab nations bent upon another Jewish genocide.

Amos grows up as both parents' son, their combination. As a child, he shared his father's love for fresh ink but initially recoiled from the suggestion he might become a writer. He saw the writer unable to help his wife. He'd prefer to be a firefighter or dog poisoner, a curious polarity of helping and killing. He leaves the family to join a kibbutz but he can't escape his mother's legacy, the imagination, the compulsion to tell a story, to sustain a dream. Bronzed like a kibbutznik he remains pale within, the librarian's son, ever more comfortable riding a typewriter rather than a tractor.

Novelist Oz is a leading voice on the Israeli left. For all her register as his memory of his treasured mother, Fania's political significance may embody Israel's need to realize that a dream must be inflected and adjusted if its essential values are to be sustained in an unyielding real world.

In a tragicomic replay of this theme, both mothers-in-law refuse to accept the marriage. Arieh stolidly sits by when his mother mercilessly snipes at his wife. In the face of Fania's mother's more vicious abuse Fania can only shrink, then release her frustrations and anger — by slapping herself. She hastily repairs to the washroom to hide her tears from Arieh and Amos. Some pains lie beyond the imagination to escape. Both older mothers are yiddische mommas — with fangs.

So too the political resonance of Fania's moral lessons to young Amos: "If you have to choose between telling a lie or insulting someone, choose to be generous…. It's better to be sensitive than to be honest." This coheres with Arieh's optimism: "You can find hell and also heaven in every room. A little bit of evilness and men to men are hell. A little bit of mercifulness and men to men are heaven."

That's the point of the film's single scene of Arab-Jewish community. "Lent" to a childless Jewish couple, little Amos is taken to an important Arab citizen's soiree. In the garden he strikes up a conversation with a little Arab girl. They speak each other's language; there is hope. In his comfort Amos climbs a tree and hangs on the chains of the swing, playing at the Tarzan he has read about and will deploy in his defensive stories.

A link breaks, the swing falls, injuring the girl's younger brother. It was an accident, only an accident, but it spreads into an unbridgeable abyss. Amos sees the little girl being severely scolded. For negligence? For befriending the Jew? Any difference between those reasons disappears. Arieh phones to reiterate his apology and regrets, to learn how the little boy is doing, to offer to pay the full costs of the lad's treatment — but is rebuffed.

The imagination that can overcome gaps between people can also create them. Oz writes for the Israeli side in this historic cycle of hatred and suspicion. He warns against the possible contamination off their dream with evil and their abiding need for mercy. It will take much mercy if the dream of love is to survive the darkness.

"A tale of love and darkness" tells the story of young Amos Oz, living with his parents in the newly-born state of Israel. Under the pressure of war, the new environment and illness, cracks start to show in what seemed to be a happy family life once.

Shortly into the movie, you notice that the style of telling the story diverges noticeably from your usual Hollywood film. Everything is a bit more poetic, more though-through and melancholic. This leads to a situation where you don't really notice what is about to unravel until it actually happens. A lot of warmth and humility accompanie this very personal story and make it universal. While some reviewers here mind that there's not a bigger picture evolving from this, I say that exactly this mixture of emotions and happenings is what makes it a bigger picture in the life of a boy.

All in all this is a beautiful movie, that tells about misery whitout any anger. It shows how everyone has his own story and how others can just accompany you on this journey.

Natalie Portman undertook the difficult task of adapting (for Film) renowned author Amos Oz's wistfully poetic, insightful and humane memoir of early life in Jerusalem just before and slightly after Israel had earned Statehood.

**Spoiler Alert**This is challenging material in terms of both the deeply-personal and tumultuous historical perspectives presented as Natalie Portman courageously navigated the tragically despairing pathways encountered by Fania Mussman-Klausner, Amos Oz's beloved mother who appeared mysteriously plagued by unidentifiable but  relentless emotional  torment, seeking momentary escape within the World of imagination & dreams but never able to fully-reconcile the transitional upheaval from her once comfortable-cultured Life in Eastern-Europe vs. the more unpredictable-tenuous one encountered in pre & post-WWII Jerusalem.

The key to this film's believability is Portman's ability to pinpoint the heart +soul of Fania Mussman (with all the inner-torment inherent), also allowing little Amos Oz's burgeoning brightness & curiosity to intermittently shine-thru at times.

A slight warning to viewers is that there exists a near oppressive bleakness to some of Amos Oz's recollections, especially with regards to his beloved mother's trials & travails (but thankfully peppered with momentary respite in the form of dreamlike scenes infused with poetic escapism). 

In the current Day (2017), it is sometimes easy to forget the fact that the numerous pre & post WWII arrivals to Jerusalem/ Israel were mainly beleaguered refugees barely escaping the holocaust dreaming of a land where they could once again simply Live as Jews without relentless persecution and death attached to the horrific WWII Epoch. 

Amos Oz's book and Natalie Portman's important film ruminate on historical recollections that although sometimes deeply-painful must occupy a hallowed eternal space in memory.