The first one is that my mom and grandma came to visit me in Israel. We had a great time touring, dining and taking in the Israeli culture.
The second reason is that I’ve been devising a very complex formula that, once complete, will shock the Middle East and modern world as we know it. More from this to come in upcoming posts.
The third and final reason is that, to put it quite frankly, I lost the use of my fingers. For a week I turned into a falafel. And falafels don't have fingers. I guess it's true that you do become what you eat.
But now that I’m seemingly human again, let me share a story with you…
Life at Chaos Films has been interesting. Avi and I are developing a very special bond. It’s just the two of us at the office everyday, and we spend a lot of time eating oranges, drinking Moroccan tea, and discussing how little work we’re getting done.
In a previous post I mentioned how the lunch breaks last as long as the workdays. Today I discovered why. In the room next to the Chaos Film office resides a highly acclaimed cinematographer named Addie. He worked on a short film called “Sinner,” which received a nomination for Best Short from the European Film Awards. The film is about a pedophiliac Rabbi and the Hasidic boy he takes advantage of. Anyway, the two of us went to get sabich down the street. Sabich is an amazing invention of a sandwich: fried eggplant, layers of tahina, a hard-boiled egg, and salad stuffed in a fluffy pita.
Just let me know if you want me to FedEx one to the States; it’s definitely worth the bypass surgery.We walked for no more than two minutes before Addie spotted a man on the side of the road. He was just standing on the curb, snapping shots with his mobile phone of G-d knows what. He was Israeli, but seemed as excited and camera happy as an Asian tourist when they spot an Orthodox Jew in full wardrobe for the first time.
Addie sneaks up to him and gives him a bear hug. For about 10 minutes I stood listening to their conversation, trying to understand the Hebrew content by reading the excitement on their faces. But after 30 seconds, my mind quickly shifted to sabich and sandwiches.
When they were finished conversing, Addie told me that he’s a famous gaffer in the Israeli film industry. He said he worked with him on the set of “Sinner.”
As my dressed-to-impress friend Michele would have said, “Who? That shlubb?”
Upon entering the sabich stand, Addie got held up for another 15 minutes. We were waiting in line, when he spotted another random guy. Damnet. My stomach was absolutely eating itself. Of course, when Addie and the guy picked up conversation, I couldn’t understand a word they were saying. So I snacked on the free pickles and spicy salad every good restaurant in Tel Aviv offers. Not satisfying enough though. Waiting… waiting… finally they finished talking.
“Who was that guy?” I asked Addie.
“The son of the most powerful producer in Israel. The man behind Lebanon,” he replied.
Really?? That shlubb?
Screw it. Don't care anymore. Let’s eat.
I submerged myself into complete eggplant fatassness. It was amazing.
For some reason Israelis don’t eat lunch until mid-afternoon: anywhere from 2-4 pm. And since I’m not yet an Israeli, I’m usually starving by this point. One reason Israelis stay thin is because their days don't revolve around food and thinking about the next time they're going to eat. They only eat when they're hungry, and they take their time doing it. They utilize lunch to really get to know their surroundings: the walks to, the encounters from, and the conversations during. They eat slowly, often asking their company in-depth questions. This angers people like me: people who have already shoveled down their sandwich and who now focus more on biting into their company's untouched sandwich than answering the questions posed.
There's a huge difference in culture when it comes to lunchtime. Americans, like myself, always seem to be in a rush. We use the day to thoroughly plan out what we're going to eat next, allowing the cravings to become so unbearable that we hurry to our meals, scarf them down, and eat more and more to satisfy the hunger. It's sickening. In a nutshell, we make pie charts to decide what to eat, but then get so hungry that we just end up eating pies and nutshells.
Anyway, we finished our sandwiches, and after lunch -- on Addie’s and my waddle back -- we walked past an average guy talking on his cell phone.
“Do you know who that was?” Addie asked subtly and rhetorically. “Samuel Maoz, the director of Lebanon.”
“Really?” I asked looking back. “Why didn’t you say ‘hi’?”
“Ehh. He was on his cell phone. But apparently he was offered the chance to direct the next Alien movie.”
Holy shit! That shlubb?!
What the hell was going on? It was 3 pm on a workday, and in our 10-minute walk to and from lunch, we saw three influential figures in the Israeli film industry! But unless Addie had pointed them out, nobody would think they were anything but shlubbs. There were no limousines, no suits, no Bluetooths, and definitely no paparazzi. In fact, Addie informed me that even the hottest Israeli models need to call the paparazzi to tell them where they’ll be in order to get any publicity. Imagine a time in America where Bradgelina knocks on photographers’ doors begging them to photograph their new adopted baby. Actually, scratch that, they kinda already do... But you get the point.
The thing is, nobody is bigger than life here. People know people, but unlike the States people don’t make an extra effort to make sure people know the people they know. They are content with just knowing. If that all makes sense.
On Avi’s back burner is an IMAX movie about the city of Jerusalem. This is a huge project, if it ever surfaces. It’s only on the back burner because it hasn’t yet received the large funding necessary. And that’s primarily because the director who was committed to the project was recently and suddenly jailed. Guess who I found out that director was ... Roman Polanski. Holy shit; talk about bad timing for Avi. But the only reason I found this out was because Ben, my British colleague, read over one of Avi’s e-mails. Avi would never brag about his affiliation with Roman Polanski. That’s not what the film industry is about here. It’s about making friends and making good movies with one another. Art at its purest.
No matter how highly influential Addie and Avi are or grow to become, it’s nice to be reassured that they’ll never be too “famous” to get a sabich with me. Which makes me now understand another very important aspect of filmmaking: enjoying lunch, so to speak. It's important to not think about the lunch breaks in too great of depth. It messes with your cravings. Take a step back. Enjoy yourself. Eat slowly. Don't run to lunch and stuff yourself quickly in order to rush back to your isolated cubicle. In the end it's counterproductive. Communication and taking in one's surroundings is the key to success. Appreciating the smaller things really keeps people grounded and real. Ultimately, this will translate into the inspiration one needs to really dig deep to successfully accomplish what they love and desire. It brings out the shlubby filmmaker in all of us. Lunch at its purest.
Later that evening I accidentally stole Avi’s office keys. So I was on my way back to return them when I ran into a familiar face. It was a kid who I had played basketball with weeks earlier. As we walked by each other, we shared one of those awkward moments where you know the other person knows you, but you’re not sure if you know them well enough to stop them for small talk. But feeling left out from all the cool run-ins Addie had earlier, I decided to stop him.
In our brief two-minute conversation, we discussed basketball, the brutal Israeli allergy season, and what we do in Tel Aviv. He mentioned that he’s a chef at a bakery. We then finished the conversation with a heterosexual exchange of numbers to further discuss getting together for a game basketball and for a taste-test of his pastries.
On the surface, Israelis appear aggressive and jagged. But given the chance, the majority of them will immediately treat you like family.
Avi and I haven't yet accomplished much film work. But he has taken me under his wing and treated me like family. And at my current stage this is more important as it has indirectly taught me the power of not being too self-centered as to truly appreciate and absorb my environment around. This, I'm discovering, will be a primary factor to advance me creatively and professionally in the field.
Two months into my internship, I may not have my own gaffer or any connections to famous, jailed directors. But I can now proudly say that I do have a contact in the bakery industry: One that can likely hook up a whole film crew with baked goods, allowing them to submerge with me into a complete and utter state of fatassness.
It sounds like a fair trade off: They teach me the true values behind successful world filmmaking, and I teach them how to truly stuff their faces the American way.
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