[rec.arts.movies.reviews] REVIEW: THE DYBBUK

leeper@mtgzx.att.com (Mark R. Leeper) (09/18/89)

				  THE DYBBUK
		       A film review by Mark R. Leeper
			Copyright 1989 Mark R. Leeper

	  Capsule review:  Paydirt!  A Yiddish film made in Poland
     in 1938 turns out to be a little-known gem.  The film lacks a
     lot of what we might consider high production values, but
     besides being an unintentional artifact of the culture of
     Eastern European Jewry wiped out in the Holocaust, it also
     turns out to be a haunting horror film that deserves to be
     seen by all fans of 1920s and 1930s horror films.  At least
     one sequence, a grotesque dance, ranks this film up with some
     of the best of German Expressionism.  Rating: +3.

     Watching the 1938 Polish-made Yiddish film THE DYBBUK, one is only too
aware that the film is flawed.  Much of the acting is exaggerated as it
would be in a silent film.  Some of the photography seems poor, as well as
some of the editing.  At least once the film cuts from a quiet scene to a
loud scene and the sudden sound causes the audience to jump.  It is true,
however, that in retrospect most of the faults seem hard to remember.  The
strongest memories of the film are beautiful images, some haunting and
horrifying.  And while taken individually many of the scenes were less
effective for me than they may have been for THE DYBBUK's intended audience,
this is a great mystical horror film, perhaps one of the better horror films
of the 1930s.

     [Spoilers follow, though as with a Shakespeare play, one does not see
THE DYBBUK for plot surprises.]

     Sender and Nisn have been very close friends since their student days.
Now they see each other only on holidays.  To cement the bond of their
friendship they vow that if their respective first children--each expected
soon--are of opposite sexes then they will arrange a marriage of the two
children.  Sure enough, Sender has a daughter Leah, though he loses his
wife in childbirth.  Nisn has a son, Khonnon, though an accident claims
Nisn's life before he can even see his new son or conclude his arrangement
to marry Khonnon to Leah.

     Years later Khonnon, now a Talmudic scholar, meets Leah and they fall
in love.  Neither knows about the vow they would be married and Sender does
not know whose son Khonnon is.  The intense Khonnon is already considering
giving up his study of the Talmud to study Kabalah, the great book of
mystical knowledge and magic.  Sender three times tries to arrange a
marriage with a rich but rather sheepish young man.  Twice the plans fail
and Khonnon believes his magic has averted the arrangement.  The third time,
however, an agreement is reached.  Khonnon calls upon dark forces to help
him but is consumed by his own spell and found dead.  The day of Leah's
marriage--in fact, during the marriage ceremony itself--Khonnon's spirit
returns from the grave as a dybbuk, a possessing demon, and takes over the
body of the woman he was denied.  Leah is taken to a great and pious
Rabbi, now nearing the end of his life and torn with self-doubts, who alone
may have the knowledge to remove the demon.

     If some of this smacks of William Peter Blatty, it should be remembered
that this is a 1938 film based on a pre-World-War-I play.  THE DYBBUK by
S. Anski (a pen name for Shloyme Zanvl Rappoport), along with THE GOLEM by
H. Leivick (a pen name for Leivick Halper), are perhaps the two best remembered
(and most commonly translated) plays of the great Yiddish Theater.  Why
Yiddish folklore has many dybbuk and golem stories, and the play THE GOLEM
was based on an actual legend ("The Golem of Prague"), THE DYBBUK was an
original story involving a legendary type of demon.  The film retells the
story of the play, but remains very different.  Other than plot there is not
much of the play carried over into the film.

     All too commonly constraints of budget and even what appears now to be
inappropriate style rob some scenes of their effect.  Much of the acting is
exaggerated in ways that might have been more appropriate to silent film or
to the stage.  In fact, in some ways this feels like an entire film done in
a style much like the early, good scenes of the 1930 DRACULA.  Director
Michal Waszynski could well be excused on the grounds that he was making the
film for a very different audience.  However, just occasionally, a scene
will be really supremely well done.  The best sequence of the film is when
Leah, just before her marriage, is called upon to dance with the poor of
the town, as is traditional.  Leah is reluctant and the dance turns into a
grotesquery culminating with Leah dancing with a figure of death.  The
film is a showcase for Yiddish songs, cantorial singing, and dancing, both
traditional and modern.  Much seems out of place, but this one dance creates
one of the most eerie and effective horror scenes of its decade.

     THE DYBBUK stands as more than a good horror film.  It is also an
artifact of pre-Holocaust Yiddish film and of Eastern European Jewish
village life.  Curiously, for a Yiddish some of the stereotypes that appear
could be interpreted as being anti-Semitic.  We see a miser with exaggerated
Jewish features counting and recounting his coins.  We see what is intended
to be a great Rabbi looking pompous, fat, sloppy, and apparently lazy.  Why
a Yiddish film would have such images is open to question.   Still, it is a
pity that this film is not better known.  It deserves to be thought of as a
major film of its decade.  I rate it +3 on the -4 to +4 scale.
Congratulations to the National Center for Jewish Film for restoring this
film.

[THE DYBBUK will be playing at the Festival Theater in New York through
September 28.  -Moderator]

					Mark R. Leeper
					att!mtgzx!leeper
					leeper@mtgzx.att.com