In summer 2021, “Agadat Churban” (Legend of Destruction) made its debut, captivating Israeli audiences with its innovative approach to storytelling. This 2-hour film, directed by Gidi Dar and co-written by Shuli Rand, recounts the destruction of the Second Beit HaMikdash using a unique cinematic technique of still images and dialogue. Despite its complex subject matter and unconventional style, the movie resonated deeply with Israeli society, its portrayal of social discord and its destructive consequences striking close to home in modern Israel. This summer, World Mizrachi plays a crucial role in bringing the translated version to English-speaking audiences worldwide.

The film’s creators, Gidi Dar and Shuli Rand, bring their own fascinating dynamic to the project. Dar, a secular filmmaker, and Rand, a ba’al teshuva, previously collaborated on the groundbreaking 2004 film “Ushpizin.” That earlier work, directed by Dar and starring Rand, paved the way for religious themes in mainstream Israeli cinema. Rabbi Aron White sat down with both directors to discuss “Legend of Destruction” and its message for today’s Jewish community.

 

It is an honor to meet you. When you made Ushpizin in 2004, that marked a benchmark in religious themes in Israeli movies. Did you then want to work on other religious stories, like in this movie?

Shuli: Ushpizin blazed a path for religious themes in cinema that changed Israeli culture. Until then, Israeli movies tended to focus on the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, but since then Jewish themes are much more central – look at TV shows like Shtisel, Shababnikim and more. I think that there still is a focus on religious themes from a social and anthropological point of view – namely, Hashem is not the main character leading the story in these movies, they still focus on the people. Nonetheless, there is no question that religious themes and stories now play a central role in Israeli cinema and TV.

Gidi: As a secular person, I deeply believe that Israeli cinema needs religious themes. We had about 100 years of Hebrew and Israeli culture that often didn’t feel that connection, but for me it is essential. In some ways, it’s even more essential for Chilonim – as a religious or Charedi person, you are engaging and processing your Jewish heritage all the time. But specifically for someone Chiloni, finding ways to engage with our own cultural heritage is incredibly important.

This new movie is about the story of the destruction of the Second Beit HaMikdash. When did this idea develop, and how did you go about tackling such a huge topic?

Gidi: In 2013, I read a book about Josephus. Like every Israeli, I had learned the story of the Churban in 10th grade, and like the vast majority of them, I had forgotten it totally. As I read the book, I was struck by how incredibly significant the story is – how could it be that I, and many of my contemporaries, don’t know this story better? That planted the seed to create a documentary about the Churban.

It was clear to me that to produce an action version would require a budget that would be a lot even for Hollywood, so I toyed with the idea of having interviews, interspersed with sketches. I called David Polonski, who agreed to work on the sketches. We made a few minutes of it, and realized that to our surprise the movie actually really “worked” with dialogue and the sketches, and we didn’t need the interview part. When you think about it, for most of human history we have told our story through still pictures and words, so we are actually very adept at being able to follow the story without needing the moving images. In fact, scientifically, our brain is always filling in the gaps as we watch a traditional movie, so this method of still images really began to work well.

As we started to work on more of the dialogue and the details, that was where Shuli came in.

Shuli: One of the most difficult parts of making a movie like this is the language of the dialogues. We had to strike a balance between making it sound relevant to today’s audience, but authentic to how the Gemara and Midrashim talk as well. There is such a fine balance that you are constantly working on – not wanting to use modern phrases and slang, but also not wanting it to sound archaic, such that it doesn’t land for the modern ear. We incorporated quotes from the original sources when we could, such as “כָּל הַמְרַחֵם עַל הָאַכְזָרִים סוֹפוֹ לְהִתְאַכְזֵר עַל הָרַחֲמָנִים, one who shows mercy to the cruel will ultimately be cruel to the merciful,” to maintain its authentic feeling.

Shuli, I have a question specifically for you as a religious person. How do you feel about portraying figures like Rabbi Yochanan ben Zakai in a film? Is there a trepidation about how to portray them, from how they look to how their actions will be perceived?

Shuli: After I continued in cinema when I was chozer b’teshuva, so many people said to me, you need to make a movie depicting King David, or you need to make a movie depicting Rabbi Nachman of Breslov. I said to them that I will make a movie about a soldier in King David’s army, but not about King David himself. For me, the tzaddik is ein sof, spiritually infinite, and I cannot touch or portray him. A soldier in King David’s army, and how he would see and perceive David, that I do feel I can portray. For me, something like Charlton Heston depicting Moshe receiving the Ten Commandments – what a tzimtzum (restriction) of the tzaddik!

In Agadat Churban, Rabbi Yochanan ben Zakai is actually a secondary character; the main character is his nephew Ben Batich, the head of one of the zealot groups. That was a balance that felt comfortable to me.

Gidi: When we had to choose how to visually depict Rabbi Yochanan ben Zakai, we made him look similar to Rav Froman zt”l, a remarkable and unique figure. In particular, Rav Froman had a wonderful smile, and I wanted this to be the image of a rabbi, as opposed to a more stereotypical, stern depiction.

Gidi, you mentioned earlier that as a secular person, it’s very important to bring Jewish themes into Israeli cinema. Why?

Gidi: I see Zionism as one of the greatest chapters in the Jewish story, but it is a rebellious chapter. Many of the Zionist pioneers, my grandfather included, wanted to throw away everything related to the exile – they wanted to return to working the land, and wanted to throw away tradition. Zionism had an unbelievable spirit, and even Rav Kook who didn’t agree with their approach to tradition recognized that something remarkable was happening. This spirit allowed Zionism to achieve the creation of the Jewish state, which I consider to be one of the greatest political miracles in history.

But what happens when you succeed? What happens when you fulfill your dreams? What do you do then? If I would have shown my grandfather, as he was draining the swamps, the skyline of Tel Aviv today, he wouldn’t believe me. Zionism achieved more than anyone dreamed of. But what happens when the dream of making the state has been fulfilled? Life is built on dreams, and if you don’t have a dream you can then fall into a spiritual crisis, and this is a critique I direct to my own community, the Chiloni community. We have become more individualistic, hedonistic, as if we are just another country like America. I think that for our spiritual vibrancy, Chiloni Zionists need to fix the bridge they burned to their past.

I actually realized this when I went to America to study. When I saw American cinema, it was very clear to see how there is a cultural continuity throughout American history, and even non-religious cinema today still has a cultural continuity to a more religious, Christian milieu in America. So what about my culture? As an Israeli, does my culture begin with the “Hebrew” culture of the late 1800s? We have thousands of years of tradition and culture, and we cannot just ignore that.

Personally, I think that the Churban does play a central role in early Zionism. HaTikvah talks of the 2,000-year hope of returning to sovereignty, and the symbol of the State of Israel is the restored Menorah from the Arch of Titus. What you have done in this movie is a reframe – rather than saying “Zionism is the correction to the Churban” you are saying “Zionism has to ensure we don’t make the same mistakes as the time of the Churban.” That is quite a new frame.

Gidi: I agree, but it really isn’t us, it’s Chazal. As I read more of the aggadot, I really felt Chazal were sending us a message from history – “look what happened to us, look what went wrong.” Chazal are so open about it – they point out the critiques of all the groups, including the rabbis, for staying silent in the story of Kamtza and Bar Kamtza and for the decisions of Zecharia ben Avkulas. Learn it well, it can happen to us. In the movie, we also try to depict how all the different groups have some truth to them, but they were right all the way until the destruction. For society to function, groups have to be able to compromise to work together.

Shuli: If you look at Chazal, you also see that the majority of the stories are about bein adam lechaveiro (matters between man and man) – Kamtza and Bar Kamtza, the Sandlar, etc. The message is how we destroyed ourselves from within – we include that in the movie, that at one point the Romans delayed their attack, because the Jews were weakening themselves from within!

The movie came out three years ago and was frequently discussed during the tumultuous months of protest concerning judicial reform. How do you think the movie’s message lands post October 7th?

Gidi: I think that post October 7th, we have an opportunity to repair some of the societal tears. On the battlefield, the settlers and the left-wing hippies are fighting for each other, risking their lives for each other. I actually believe that had Hamas waited another year before their attack, we might have weakened ourselves even more and been in a worse place.

I actually think that the message of the movie is not only for Israel, but the West as a whole. The story of different groups arguing, not being able to work together, and tearing society apart from within, definitely applies to many Western countries. How did this happen? How did some of the most successful societies become so divided, their politics so extreme, and the center so weak? The story of the Churban is a cautionary tale not only to Israel, but to the West as a whole. If you can only focus on how right you are, and cannot compromise and work with other groups, then society cannot function. The movie’s message is still cautionary and deeply relevant for Israel and the world.