One of the more obnoxious things critics say about movies is that “the location is a character”. But in Mountain, a quiet, melancholy family drama set almost entirely at the Jewish cemetery on the Mount of Olives in Jerusalem, the location really is a character. There appears to be no trick photography and, considering how touchy folks can be about holy places (and considering what goes on in this film), one has to wonder if first-time director Yaelle Kayam lied on her permit applications.
Tzvia (Shani Klein) is an Orthodox Jewish mother of four. While she adheres to a strict religious code and boasts about being able to see the Temple Mount from her kitchen window, she is neither wide-eyed zealot nor unkind settler. She is a caring woman, slowly realising that her husband Reuven (Avshalom Pollak) is drifting away. He takes no interest in her sexually and is working longer hours. He is negligent of their children and has virtually no reaction when informed that he has bought the jam Tzvia specifically told him not to buy. In short, he’s a jerk.
Tzvia doesn’t have many shoulders to cry on. While the specifics of how and why are a little vague, the family live in solitude in a cold, cave-like house adjacent to the Mount of Olives cemetery. They aren’t caretakers (there is a chatty Arab who is), but they are there because a “Jewish presence” is preferred. A customary wire separates their house from the acres of stone steps and above-ground tombs. From their vantage point, they can see the Old City of Jerusalem and mixed in with Reuven’s morning Jewish prayers are church bells and Muslim muezzin calls.
As the increasingly lonely Tzvia begins taking late-night strolls around the mountain, she sees a couple having sex against a grave. Later, she sees that there is a group that gathers there each night. About six or so men drinking, maybe selling drugs. The women are probably prostitutes, though we don’t actually get that close to business operations. But Tzvia returns time and again to watch. Not so much out of prurience, but just because there’s some life out there with more happening than her own.
After bringing pots of stewed chicken, the sketchy folk start letting her hang around like a puppy, despite one of the women accusing her of trying to convert them. She later condemns Tzvia for her looks, saying it’s no wonder her husband doesn’t touch her.
Don’t worry, Mountain isn’t leading to an affirming, wacky makeover. Nor is it an excuse for miserablism. There is, instead, a patient anthropological game happening here. There are some missteps, such as the enormous “Chekhov’s Container of Rat Poison” that gets a closeup early on, but this is a double-whammy for voyeurs who want to see members of a community in unusual places.
However, even to other Orthodox Jews, Tzvia feels like an outsider. With visiting mourners her only peers, she is shocked to learn about a group of “her kind” in ultra-modern Tel Aviv. Without saying anything, we know she’d move there in a heartbeat.
Shani Klein, who was marvellous as the tough army sergeant in Zero Motivation, is achingly sympathetic. Her character’s physical softness is the visual counterpoint to the sharp, often chipped stones lining the walk to her isolated home. It is an altogether striking character, though the unhurried pace does begin to wear you down. Overlooking Jerusalem from a city of the dead, however, there is more than enough time to take things slowly.
