OdessaOdesa (2005)

Directed by: Michale Boganim | 102 minutes | documentary

Our memory is a wonderful thing. How often have we experienced that we have a wonderful memory of something, a period from our childhood for example, or a specific holiday, when, if we are very honest, there was really nothing special about it at the time? We tell full of scents and colors how beautiful and exciting we found something, while the story is actually fiction. Fiction that at some point we start to believe ourselves. This is the phenomenon from which the Russian Jews who are central to Michale Boganim’s documentary ‘Odessa Odessa’ seem to “suffer”.

The birthplace of the “Odessanen” from Michael Boganim’s documentary is presented as a true utopia. A dream city that is longed for, and where, if we are to believe all the stories, everything was better. While, when we observe how gloomy and desolate everything looks now, and hear some historical facts about the turbulent times of war and the way in which Jews could not be themselves, we can seriously wonder how beautiful it really has been. According to Boganim, the feeling of “exile”, or displacement, is central. The Russians who have emigrated, to America or Israel, dream of, and want to return to Odessa, and the Odessas want to go to these emigration countries, hoping for a better future. This is certainly reflected in the film: a strong sense of longing, and nostalgia for a better time and place. However, with the difference that the location always seems to be Odessa; an imaginary Odessa that is. The Russians who still live in Odessa are no happier than those abroad. Quite the contrary. Perhaps to perpetuate the myth it is better to live a good part of the now dilapidated and extinct Ukrainian city. At least then you don’t have to be confronted with (part of) the harsh reality.

In any case, it is interesting. Whether we meet the Russian Jews in “Little Odessa” in America, where they sing about their beautiful country on the pier and talk about their history together, or in Israel where a street sweeper in his variety acts expresses his love for his homeland and city they don’t hide anything, they don’t really feel at home anywhere. And this while America should be the land of unlimited possibilities, and Israel the ultimate homeland of the Jews. But in America it turns out not to be easy to make ends meet, and even in Israel there is ghetto formation. While our main characters in Odessa were looked at for their Jewishness, in Israel they are treated differently because of their Russian origin. It’s the same everywhere. But, although objectively there are certainly many obstacles to overcome in these new countries, the question can also be raised to what extent the Odessas could not feel at home if they really wanted to. In America they hardly make an effort to adapt. They do not speak the language, and remain alone in their community longing for the past. Some of the Americans who are questioned denounce the Russians as conceited and profiteers. And in Israel, a granddaughter asks her Russian grandmother why she still doesn’t feel at home after decades.

What is going on here? Is this a typical Jewish or Jewish-Russian longing for a country of your own, for a home, or is it a universal phenomenon? Is this almost chronic longing and waiting linked to religion, origin, or nationality, or is it recognizable in every person? Do we ever really feel at home somewhere or are we always searching? In any case, Boganim’s camera suggests a certain kind of restlessness in the Odessas who are being photographed. The camera is always on the move, sliding past the heads and people, who are often also not fully framed or move slowly out of or into the frame. Perhaps it is impossible for everyone to live in the “now”. Or maybe it’s too scary to stop and look at what you have now or what you can do with it. Somehow this is probably recognizable for everyone. We may not all be waiting for a Redeemer, or the Promised Land, but as long as we keep moving we keep the feeling that we are moving forward or have something to look forward to.

The question is whether it is healthy to let this strongly nostalgic feeling of nostalgia and displacement take over the feelings of hope. When these emotions come up purely as a comfort or compensation for the hard times, there is of course nothing against it, but when they stand in the way of potential improvement of (social) living conditions, this is somehow regrettable. At least in the perception of outsiders. At least it ensures that ‘Odessa Odessa’ leaves the viewer with a somewhat sad and powerless feeling, despite, and sometimes because of, the joint music sessions of the Odessas.

‘Odessa Odessa’ is an interesting portrait of these Russian Jews and their sense of alienation. Unfortunately, the same feeling is in fact communicated in every vignette, making the film a bit too unambiguous. This may (no doubt) be the point of the director, but it ensures that the film does not offer many different points of interest for the viewer. Nevertheless, the central melancholic feeling is captured so aptly that the film takes on a beautiful lyrical character. As a result, ‘Odessa Odessa’ has certainly become a fascinating viewing experience for the viewer.