Such cruelty is unimaginable, but so close to us. We are in a Jewish community in Jerusalem, one of these communities that live by the Torah a life totally locked up in that logic. A man gets married, has children, works all his life, goes to the synagogue every single time it is necessary, celebrates Sabbath, dresses the proper way, speaks proper language, kisses the jamb of the door when he is coming in or going out of a house, apartment or store. That's a very routine-like life that does not accept anything that goes against this routine, these rules, this pre-formatted life. If the man is a butcher his whole life and his family's depend on the community that must be convinced that he is pure, he is no sinner. And sin is all-pervading in this community. The result is sad in many ways: it is absolute solitude right in the midst and the heart of a human community, a solitude that kills the heart and the soul because the only thing that this man may desire is forbidden, and that is love, love from an equal, love from a man, love from another human being made in the image of God. That forbidden love is divine because it brings together two direct representatives of God, sons of God, Adam and Adam, full equality, the supreme desire of love, to love your equal, to love yourself in the other and let the other love himself in you. But that kind of love is banned by the Torah (Leviticus 18:22, "You must not lie with a man as with a woman. This is a hateful thing." Leviticus 20:13, "The man who lies with a man in the same way as with a woman: they have done a hateful thing together; they must die, their blood shall be on their own heads.") But at the same time the butcher Aaron who accepts Ezri under his roof is then in a serious dilemma when the people around him start being menacing and aggressive because in Genesis 19:5-8 it is said: "They called to Lot, "Where are the men who came to you tonight? Bring them out to us so that we can have sex with them." Lot went outside to meet them and shut the door behind him and said, "No, my friends. Don't do this wicked thing. Look, I have two daughters who have never slept with a man. Let me bring them out to you, and you can do what you like with them. But don't do anything to these men, for they have come under the protection of my roof." And this means Aaron has to protect Ezri. But nothing is that simple and Ezri who has no one except Aaron will leave to enable Aaron to live in peace. But Aaron will not be able to live in that peace. The end is sad, very sad. This film is about that kind of bigotry against gay people, or even nothing but gay desire in the name of a law that is in pure contradiction with the famous Lot story that brings God's fire onto Sodom: the people in Sodom did not respect the law of hospitality, and history repeats itself. The people of this community did not respect the law of hospitality either, but God seemingly brought his fire down onto the host and the guest. Sodom upside down in a way, though in perfect order according to the Torah in another way. There could be a third way but it would mean to leave the community, wife, children. But we can wonder if the departing Ezri and the departed Aaron have not done just that. The film is great because it is delicate, slow and entirely introspective to the point of making the story unreal, at least to our eyes that are wide open and can't see no justice in that law of fire. When one was stoned to death in Jerusalem in the old days, he had to be thrown over the wall of the city, he had to dig his own grave in which he was buried up to the shoulders and then the people could stone him to death, at least that's how James, Jesus' eldest brother was executed. Times may have changed but our stoning techniques are maybe less brutal or bloody but they are just as effective.
Dr Jacques COULARDEAU, University Paris 1 Pantheon Sorbonne, University Paris 8 Saint Denis, University Paris 12 Créteil, CEGID
Dr Jacques COULARDEAU, University Paris 1 Pantheon Sorbonne, University Paris 8 Saint Denis, University Paris 12 Créteil, CEGID