Fill the Void depicts the Chassidic world from a female perspective with sensitivity and artistry. 

Orthodox Judaism is typically represented in cinema one of three ways: There’s the “Yentl” approach, in which the Orthodox world remains frozen in Old Country Shtetlach even as their inhabitants sail to new opportunities elsewhere. If our story takes place outside of pre-WWII Europe, Orthodox Judaism is often presented as an oppressive institution that prevents a film’s hero from pursuing their true love or calling (Think The Jazz Singer (1927 and 1980), Disobedience (2017), and Felix and Meira (2014)). And of course, there are the incidental comedic encounters where Orthodox Judaism is presented as little more than a punchline-à la the flock of rabbis who pray fervently on behalf of the Ghostbusters as Armageddon approaches. 

However, within the past two decades, there’s been a revolution of sorts regarding on-screen representation of these communities. Critically acclaimed films like Ushpezin, Menashe, and Fill the Void depict Orthodox society, specifically Charaidi and Chassidic sects, with sensitivity and accuracy. All were made by, or with the guidance of, actual members of the communities portrayed on screen. 

Of these three films, only one gives priority to the female Orthodox experience.  Menashe takes place in a man’s world, and while Ushpizin focuses on a married couple, the male half of the duo is the film’s true protagonist. Rama Burshtein’s Fill the Void is exceptional because it presents Orthodox Judaism from a female perspective. Perhaps, even more extraordinarily, it features nary a mention of the cultural clash between the secular and religious  that has served as the thematic foundation of nearly every film concerned with the Orthodox community. 

Yiftach Klein and Hadas Yaron in Fill the Void 

Fill the Void is concerned with the plight of young Shira (Hadas Yaron) whose parents encourage her to wed her late sister’s widower, Yochai (Yiftach Klein), in order to keep him, and their only grandchild, close by (The other serious marriage offer that Yochai receives is from a woman living in Belgium). To Western viewers, this set-up feels horrifying and alien in a feminist or post-feminist world. 

Yet, Burshtein, an Israeli Chassidic woman, presents her story, and Shira’s dilemma, with artfulness and empathy. The women who populate the screen are complex beings with deeply personal motivations and conflicts. They are not radical revolutionaries who flaunt communal standards with impunity, nor are they oppressed victims of a cultish patriarchy. They are Orthodox Jewish women depicted as real people with respect, sensitivity, and shocking honesty. 

Hadas Yaron, a secular Israeli actor who was unfamiliar with the Chassidic religious world prior to being cast, gives her character an emotional complexity few actresses can bring to any role. Shira is a flawed and fully materialized human soul, and the film is presented from her point of view. Her giddiness and immaturity are never dismissed in the presence of her grief or self-imposed stoicism. 

Shira’s mother, played beautifully by Irit Sheleg, is an unrivaled domestic authority in possession of eyes that double as weapons and bottomless cisterns of melancholy and affection. Aunt Hanna (Razia Israeli), is bitter, outspoken, and sometimes as Machiavellian as her sister without ever seeming unreasonable. Both women have pasts, futures, and emotional lives that the film refuses to ignore in favor of its heroine. These women are real human beings and, even at their most unlikable, the film never allows us to forget it. 

Likewise, Burshtein presents her community as it is, without justification or explanation. The armless unmarried Aunt Hanna covers her hair to ward off unwanted questions, and the men sing loudly at Shabbat meals while their wives and daughters never do more than listen. In a rare moment of levity, a grave meeting with the Rebbe, the Chassidic community leader, is interrupted by a distressed old woman requiring the Rebbe’s guidance on the pertinent personal issue of which new stove she should buy. It’s an inherently funny moment, but Burshtein never stoops to ridicule her subjects. The bearded sage aids the grandmother with patience and consideration. The laughter comes from a place of love. 

This is a film that dares to eschew unnatural exposition explaining the religious celebrations and rituals depicted on screen. In fact, the uninformed viewer receives no assistance in understanding the significance of a Purim celebration, a baby’s circumcision, and the complexities of Chassidic courtship. This attitude seems likely to cripple an audience with confusion, but it encapsulates the film’s greatest strength as a brilliant representation of a misunderstood community. Shira’s world-Burshtein’s world-need not be judged by outside standards. It does not need to justify its existence or ask for approval. 

Hadas Yaron in Fill the Void 

This artistic stance is anything but accidental. During a 2013 interview, Burshtein responded to praise for telling a story that takes place entirely within an insulated Tel Aviv Chassidic community that its characters never consider leaving: 

“As a people we are thousands of years old and we exist without that conflict of the secular and the religious. The truth is that most of us do not want to leave our communities. All of those films were always about someone either trying to get out or someone from the outside trying to get in and it was very important for me to say that we also just exist and feel and love and struggle and hurt by ourselves, not always because we’re in conflict.” 

As an Orthodox Jewish woman, Rama Burshtein is the voice of a demographic that has been absent from cinematic conversations for far too long. Her love for her religion and community is present in every frame of Fill the Void, and she refuses to present her community as anything it is not. She dares to portray, in nuanced and sensitive shades of gray, the real women of a community who rarely grace the screen in color schemes other than black and white. 

From Joan of Arc’s passion to time-tripping through Buddhism, explore religious ideas, themes, and conflicts at the second annual Religion in the Frame Film Festival. Get your free tickets. 

 Author: Ora Damelin is a film student at Columbia College Chicago and a proud Orthodox Jew. She loves to share her opinions on film and is delighted-and slightly befuddled-that those opinions are now published online.