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June 19, 2007
Two Tales of the Past
The continuing story of the author's love for his wife, Karen. It began when Robert was 9-years old, in the fourth grade in Yeshiva Flatbush. It's a long, story complicated story.
“Look at the body on that woman.”
I have just asked the famous director about his Jewish father, and his Catholic mother's death in Auschwitz.
The famous and incredibly talented director hesitated for a long moment; he was not expecting this opening gambit from a geeky film journalist. We are sitting in the tea room of the luxurious Hotel Pierre in New York. Fashionable women, thin as carrot sticks, float past our table with the regularity of a metronome.
Note to self: When you are a famous director, beautiful women shamelessly parade before you as if it's the most natural thing in the world. To paraphrase Mel Brooks: “It's good to be a famous director.”
"Can you discuss the tension, if there was any, growing up with a Jewish father and Catholic mother in Poland?"
The famous director smiles at a stunningly beautiful woman at another table. She crosses her legs, dangles a Gucci stiletto from a perfectly pedicured toe.
“Look at her ankles. How utterly perfect they are. I loathe fat ankles, don't you?”
"As a child you were forced into the Krakow ghetto for a while; but you managed to escape and took refuge with a Polish family, hid in their barn. Your latest film has numerous images of an isolated figure in a barn-like structure. Were you drawing on your own experiences?"
“I would die for that derriere. I mean really. Look at at that shape, like sculpture. It is a scrumptuous work of art.”
The famous director gestures to one of the women on parade: a Claudia Cardinale look-a-like who, I'm pretty sure, is making her third circuit past our table.
“I get the feeling you don't want to talk about your personal life.”
The famous director pins me with a dark look.
“Did you like my film?”
“It was, um, okay.”
Good natured, he laughs.
“That means you did not. You should be honest.”
“I didn't really like it.”
“Explain, please.”
“It didn't go anywhere. You set up a compelling situation, there's great imagery, but it lacks internal coherence. Sorry.”
Knitting his brows together, the famous director ponders for a long moment. The grimly tedious pageant of beautiful women continues to unspool, but he no longer pays any heed. He is deep in thought, and after a few moments of silence he now appears as if he's in physical pain.
“I might have lost focus. In the script stage sometimes we forget what the film is about, forget why we wanted to make the film; still, I am proud of this work, in spite of the flaws. Of course you cannot print this in the interview because the studio would kill me. Remember: if it is not in the script, it will never be in the movie.”
He looks sad.
I mention his first movie. He waves his hand as if swatting away a fly.
“I cannot even look at that film now. All I see is the mistakes.”
“It's great, really great. The scene when they struggle over the knife, and then the wife dives in the water. It's a beautifully realized sequence. Every angle is just perfect.”
“The work of a gifted amateur. It is not mature film art.”
“Whom do you admire—as a mature film artist, I mean?”
With no hesitation at all he responds: “Akira Kurosawa.”
A moment later he adds: “And of course, the great Andrzej Wajda.”
Later, Karen asks: “How was the interview?”
I shrug. Like so many of the interviews I do for the film magazine the best material cannot be published. But I am learning about the film business, I am learning how the business works — and does not work.
I took Karen with me to the screening of the famous director's film. Karen really hated it. She would have walked out, but the studio people were there and I couldn't leave, it would have been very bad form.
I'm not sure how it happens, but Karen is now telling me about a singles Shabbos she spent at Grossinger's. Like most singles weekends there was a fair amount of misery involved for far too many people—mostly the hopeful, vulnerable young Jewish women.
“There was a guy who I was sort of seeing and we sat together at one meal; we had a really nice conversation. And I thought everything was fine. But then at the next meal he changed his seat and I suddenly realized that things were not what I thought they were. And he just kept avoiding me the whole Shabbos. And I just felt awful, confused, clueless — and so humiliated.”
“Creep.”
Karen shrugs, sits up straight, flashes a smile and says: “ I am much better off now.”
Oh
My
Gosh
Doe Karen mean little ol' me?
The famous director refused to acknowledge his past. Karen has just narrated a miserable chapter from her history, squared her shoulders, ready to move ahead.
I have to marry this woman.
If I don't, I really really really will die.
Happy 30th anniversary Karen.
I have had two dreams my entire life: to love and be loved by you, and to work in Hollywood. Baruch HaShem I have achieved both dreams.
Posted by Robert J. Avrech at June 19, 2007 08:25 AM
Comments
Seraphic Secret is private property, that's right, it's an extension of our home, and as such, Karen and I have instituted two Seraphic Rules and we ask commentors to act respectfully.
1. No profanity.2. No Israel bashing. We debate, we discuss, we are respectful. You know what Israel bashing is. The world is full of it. Seraphic Secret is one of the few places in the world that will not tolerate this form of anti-Semitism. That's it. Break either of these rules and you will be banned.
I'm in no position to judge the man, but when it comes to his work ... his finished product tends to fall short, morally, of what his chosen material dictates (or should dictate). No matter how lucid, we all deserve better than lucid disillusionment. So thanks for the illuminating and far from disillusioned post.
Posted by: Jeremiah at June 19, 2007 10:48 AM
Happy Anniversary! Such a milestone.
Posted by: ralphie at June 19, 2007 10:57 AM
No romance novel I ever worked on in nineteen years is as nice a story as "Robert Loves Karen."
Happy anniversary to the two of you, and may you celebrate one another for many more years to come. Mazel tov.
Posted by: Pearl at June 19, 2007 11:50 AM
Wonderful post. I agree with Jeremiah about the famous director's work overall... but I have to say he directed my favorite movie of all-time, so he gets credit for that.
And when it comes to not forgetting the past, I also really appreciate people who do. It's a very important lesson to discuss at the Passover Seder, by the way. We eat Matzoh not only because it was the bread of "haste", but the "bread of our affliction." In other words, we were poor, poor slaves who couldn't afford decent food. No matter how rich one gets, to forget his or her harder times or pretend they never happened is very wrong and contrary to Jewish teaching on many levels.
I think a lot of married men forget how miserable they were when they were single and forget to appreciate their wives appropriately.
Posted by: Jake at June 19, 2007 11:56 AM
And happy anniversary (of course)!
Thanks for the lesson, Jake.
Hi there, Pearl!
Posted by: Jeremiah at June 19, 2007 12:28 PM
Mazel tov, mazel tov! Daniel and I celebrated our 30th about a month ago with a trip to Istanbul. (It was very interesting to be there while the massive anti-fundamentalist demonstrations were going on.) Will you and Karen be doing anything special to celebrate?
I'm sorry I don't know what famous director you're talking about, so I can't contribute any deep insights to the other part of this post.
Posted by: Sara at June 19, 2007 12:59 PM
Mazel tov!
Posted by: shirah at June 19, 2007 01:10 PM
BTW, I realize who the director is, but at first I was getting Polish names mixed up and Jerzy Kosinki (author of "The Painted Bird") came to mind.
As for not wanting to talk about his personal life...well, I figure the director tied in some aspects of it in a later, wonderful film of his.
Hi Jeremiah. And mazel tov, Sara, on your anniversary too!
Posted by: Pearl at June 19, 2007 01:12 PM
I, too, got married on May 31, 1977, so its 30 for us also. We didn't meet in fourth grade, but her grandfather remarked, when she was 10 years old, that I would make a good match for her. We met when she was 17, and five children and ten grandchildren later, I thank God every day that He gave us this great gift.
Posted by: Barzilai at June 19, 2007 01:32 PM
Mazal tov! We, too, just celebrated our 30th. May the two of you have many more happy years together.
Posted by: Shira Salamone at June 19, 2007 02:24 PM
Happy anniversary! I adore you guys. How privileged I am to call you friends, and to have a ringside seat to observe such a wonderful marriage. The example you provide is amazing. We are ALL blessed by your union.
Posted by: Jackie Danicki at June 19, 2007 03:11 PM
Thanks for the mazel tov, Pearl. And thanks for the rest of your comment, too, because I think I now know who the mystery director is. Or perhaps he was a mystery only to me? Duh.
Posted by: Sara at June 19, 2007 05:44 PM
Jeremiah:
Yes, this post is far from disillusioned. How can it not be? As for the director, in the two hours I spent with him I learned a great deal about film form and film sense. He really was/is a master of the plastic form.
Posted by: Robert J. Avrech ![[TypeKey Profile Page]](http://www.seraphicpress.com/nav-commenters.gif)
at June 19, 2007 06:22 PM
Ralphie:
Thanks so much; and again thanks for coming to the lecture. It was lovely finally meeting the lovely Mrs. Ralphie. We look forward to reading your synopsis .
Posted by: Robert J. Avrech at June 19, 2007 06:26 PM
Pearl:
Maybe the reason our story works so well is because, y'know, it's true. Contrivance gets stale very quickly, especially in romance.
Thanks so much for your good wishes—and for your unwavering friendship.
Posted by: Robert J. Avrech at June 19, 2007 06:31 PM
Jake:
I'll never forget how miserable I was as an unmarried man, In fact, I count my unmarried years from the time I was 10-years old onward. So I have a staggering number of years from which to draw from.
Posted by: Robert J. Avrech at June 19, 2007 06:36 PM
Sara:
Happy 30th anniversay to you and David. That's so wonderful. Istanbul! Wow. So adventurous. Will Karen and I be doing something special?
Hmmm...
Depends how you define special.
Posted by: Robert J. Avrech at June 19, 2007 06:43 PM
Barzilai:
Mazal Tov to you too. Wow, look at this, so many of us are on the same shidduch schedule.
We should only celebrate simchas together!
Posted by: Robert J. Avrech at June 19, 2007 06:46 PM
Shira:
Another member of the 30th shidduch club. Mazal Tov to you and to your husband. Thanks so much for writing, and have a shot of schnapps for us at your shul kiddush.
Posted by: Robert J. Avrech at June 19, 2007 06:49 PM
Jackie:
Thanks so much for the kind words. If not for you this blog would not exist and this entire chapter of our lives would be a vast silent nothingness. We owe you so much.
Posted by: Robert J. Avrech at June 19, 2007 07:09 PM
Mazal Tov. Here is to another 100 years.
Posted by: Jack at June 19, 2007 11:02 PM
Jack:
Thanks so much. Ad meah v'esrim to you and your wife.
Posted by: Robert J. Avrech at June 19, 2007 11:35 PM
Happy Anniversary! That's such a wonderful occasion!
Posted by: Irina at June 20, 2007 07:40 AM
Irina:
Thanks so very much. Hope all is well with you.
Posted by: Robert J. Avrech at June 20, 2007 11:20 AM
Hey Robert - Mazel Tov to you and Karen! Wishing you many many more very happy years together. re the director and his, um, perusal of women....kudos to you for not falling into that trap and getting influenced by the Hollywood mentality. I'm sure it's difficult.
MH
Posted by: mata hari at June 20, 2007 11:32 AM
Mata Hari:
Thanks so much. It's really not hard falling into the Hollywood thing——nope, I'm married to Karen.
Posted by: Robert J. Avrech at June 20, 2007 12:59 PM
It's funny you should call this a "30th shidduch club." Actually I was introduced to Daniel by a couple of Turkish students who thought we'd make a good pair. I only now made the connection to our trip to Istanbul...
Posted by: Sara at June 20, 2007 03:51 PM
Robert...what a great surprise to find a Robert loves Karen post! You have the greatest love story ever...
I have no idea who the director is, but that's okay...I loved this post!
Posted by: cruisin-mom at June 20, 2007 06:45 PM
Sara:
Positively Kabbalistic. See my film: "A Stranger Among Us" for more on romance and Jewish mysticism.
Excuse the shameless plug :)
Posted by: Robert J. Avrech at June 20, 2007 06:54 PM
Cruisin' Mom:
Delighted that I could surprise you with another chapter of this story. I know how much you love it.
Posted by: Robert J. Avrech at June 20, 2007 06:57 PM
Happy Anniversary! Your posts about Karen always make the romantic in me believe that dreams can come true. May you celebrate and enjoy many many more to come.
Posted by: orieyenta at June 21, 2007 01:14 AM
happy anniversary!
"The famous director refused to acknowledge his past."
he did not want to talk about it to a "stranger" who represents a magazine public. no different than many other survivors. i don't know if this means he did not acknowledge it. as pearl notes, it was reflected in his movie.
"Karen has just narrated a miserable chapter from her history, squared her shoulders, ready to move ahead."
i don't think you can compare their experiences (the previous sentence was intended to be typed in a really tiny font)
on a different matter do you ever watch israeli movies? have you seen any good ones? i watch them, but mostly to improve my street hebrew. most of them are crap (in my boorish opinion). a few are good and only a select few are excellent.
Posted by: ari kinsberg at June 21, 2007 09:31 AM
Orieyenta:
Some dreams do come true—much to my amazement. Thanks so very much. Here's hoping all your dreams come true too.
Posted by: Robert J. Avrech at June 21, 2007 09:33 AM
Ari:
I readily acknowledge that I was a thoughtless journalist. Let me also point out that this interview took place back in the 70's. The film Pearl is talking about was not yet made. The film I was talking about, well, you probably have never even seen it. It's one of this director's worst and least seen films.
The best Israeli movies I have seen are "Ushpizin," and "Adjusting Sights." Both have religious protagonists and both deal with questions of moral courage, and religious values.
You are right. Most Israeli films are terrible beyond imagination. They are, for the most part, made by loser leftist idealogues, and their self-hating ideology comes front and center before the most basic story-telling abilities.
I've given up on Israeli films. They are wretched.
Posted by: Robert J. Avrech at June 21, 2007 09:52 AM
what about the barn scene?
"you probably have never even seen it"
never seen it? i've never heard of it.
two israeli movies i really liked a lot are "late wedding" and "bonjour monsieur shlomi." i just saw "nina's tragedies"; it was ok but i really liked the ending http://agmk.blogspot.com/2007/06/ninas-tragedies.html
of course ushpizin is a great movie. so great that i usually forget it is israeli when i make a list of favorite israeli movies.
Posted by: ari kinsberg at June 21, 2007 10:38 AM
Ari:
"Late Wedding" was... okay. Never saw "Monsieur Shlomi" or "Nina's Tragedies." The latter sounds interesting, I'll look it up, thanks.
Posted by: Robert J. Avrech at June 21, 2007 10:59 AM