Review: Between the Temples

Faith, grief and community mingle in Nathan Silver’s thoughtful dramedy.

I don’t know if I’ve ever seen a movie relationship like the one Jason Schwartzman and Carol Kane form in Between the Temples. Not quite romantic but more than friendly, flitting between mentor-student and mother-son, it’s a tender and funny picture of two messy souls stumbling toward meaning, both enriched and frustrated by the faith community that surrounds them. 

Ben Gottlieb (Schwartzman) is a cantor at an upstate New York synagogue. He’s been depressed since his wife’s death a year earlier; he’s living back home with his mothers and going through the motions at work. Actually, that’s not even accurate; Ben’s lost his ability to sing, which is a bit of a requirement for a cantor. He mostly spends his days salting the synagogue driveway — even on days where it’s not supposed to snow — and teaching Bar/Bat Mitzvah students just phoning it in in exchange for a party. He’s depressed, even half heartedly throwing himself in front of a truck on his way to the bar. 

It’s after an altercation at that bar that Ben crosses paths with Carla (Kane), who is searching for some sort of late-in-life connection and meaning. Carla is Ben’s old elementary school music teacher, and shortly after their encounter shows up at the synagogue with a strange request: she wants her own Bat Mitzvah. A widow who was never able to embrace the Jewish faith in which she grew up – her husband was a Protestant – she’s looking for something more in her later years, whether that’s community, spirituality or simply a listening ear. While at first hesitant, Ben takes on his unorthodox student and finds his own joy returning as he introduces her to the tradition, language and family of faith. 

There’s a very simple feel-good movie that could result from this idea, in which Carla finds her place and Ben finds his voice. And while that rough outline is there, the script, which director Nathan Silver co-wrote with C. Mason Wells, is more thoughtful and surprising. Carla isn’t simply seeking conversion; she wants community and empathy – a scene in which she and Ben perform a listening exercise where he repeats her personal anecdote verbatim shows just how much she longs for someone to truly hear and see her. Ben is lost, probably in no place to be teaching someone about the Jewish faith – he at one point asks a priest about the possibility of sneaking into Heaven – but his energy and smile return as he teaches Carla. 

Schwartzman and Kane both deliver impressive performances – possibly among their best – as two wounded people without smothering their charm and humor. Kane’s always excelled at playing over-caffeinated, slightly daffy characters, but there’s a vulnerability and insecurity that I haven’t seen her bring before. The character is lonely – even her family seems to merely tolerate her and roll their eyes at her rotating interests – and trying to reignite a life that she had to put on hold for years, perfectly aware of how strange some may see it. A scene in which she plays Ben an album she recorded decades earlier is heartbreaking in how Kane conveys Carla’s awareness of who she used to be, what she’s looking for and how unlikely it is that she might find it. 

Schwartzman has played melancholy characters all his career, it seems, but he’s aged into it well (his work in last year’s Asteroid City is one of his best performances). As Ben, he drops many of the mannerisms and affectations of the Wes Anderson movies and delivers some of his most approachable and heartfelt work, while still delivering the occasional ironic quip or aside. Ben’s drenched in sadness – not just over grief for his late wife but for a block that has developed in his faith and in his community. Schwartzman gives hangdog better than almost anyone, but the joy that begins to flow back into Ben’s face as he teaches Carla her Torah readings, shares hamburgers with her, and becomes part of her life is wonderful to watch. Schwartzman and Kane have strong chemistry, able to joke around and also be vulnerable and open together. 

The script is insightful and affectionate about Jewish community and tradition, particularly in how that community can both be a source of strength and of frustration. Ben is surrounded by people who mean well and want to help. His mothers constantly set him up on a series of J-dates – the film opens with one such hilarious and awkward encounter – most of whom seem to view the faith as something exotic or a personality quirk. His rabbi is happy to just keep covering for Ben so long as the donations keep piling in and they get more “Jews in pews” (Robert Smigel – the once and forever Triumph the Insult Comic Dog – is perfectly cast). Even the rabbi’s daughter, a potential love interest (played by Madeline Weinstein in a hilarious scene-stealing performance), seems to think all Ben needs is to hear her mimic his dead wife’s erotic voicemail messages. Everyone wants to help Ben, but no one knows what he needs. 

The film is fascinated by the way its supporting characters both cherish and often take for granted their heritage and its traditions. The rabbi uses his shofar to improve his putting game. Ben’s mothers are seemingly always at the temple but sometimes seem more concerned about pulling off an impressive bake sale or using it as a place to find Ben a new wife. The film lovingly observes the ritual and tradition of its climactic Shabbat dinner while also understanding how the characters use it to further their own agendas and try to manipulate Ben.

That’s what makes the relationship between Ben and Carla so fascinating – they’re two broken people who find meaning and joy in returning to the traditions of their faith, spending time in its heritage rather than treating it as a social network (although Carla definitely longs for that as well, and Ben has closed himself off). Perhaps they’re the only two characters having a valid spiritual experience, and that’s what makes their friendship so strong. Or maybe the faith setting simply provides an environment where they’re more willing to be curious, open and vulnerable, creating a bond that might not exist in more secular arenas. The film doesn’t seem interested in giving us an answer, but simply observes this developing relationship and lets its characters find something that looks like peace and home in the other. It’s quite beautiful. 

I haven’t seen Silver’s previous films, but I was greatly impressed by his directorial eye. The film is shot largely in closeups in 16mm, the grain giving it a warmth and intimacy that matches the closeness of these relationships and the tight-knit nature of the community. He and editor John Magary experiment with a variety of tools – ratcheting up the speed for comic effect during an intentional drug trip, framing Ben and Carla in iris shots, freezing the frame at select moments during a game of “Telephone” at Shabbat dinner – to constantly modulate the film’s tone, which can move from introspective and awkward drama to screwball sitcom in the space of a scene. 

Is it messy? Definitely, but that feels thematically appropriate. This is a movie about characters who can’t quite put words to their needs and whose relationships defy easy categorization; even at the end of the film, I don’t know that Ben and Carla clearly know how to define their partnership. There’s a spiritual search at its heart that the movie can’t quite get its arms around – but that’s okay, because the characters can’t, either. If some of the subplots and supporting characters feel a bit half-formed, it’s okay, because awkwardness is baked into the story. Rather than a simple feel-good tale about a student healing their mentor, Between the Temples is a movie that understands healing can be a lonely and lurching process, both helped and complicated by community that, when we’re open to it, can take us to unpredictable places And while it’s complex, messy and surprising, there’s a quiet hopefulness that still makes you feel good. 

I write a lot about faith, and I hope to do that a bit more in the future. I recently shared a post about why I dislike most “Christian” movies. I wish more would be like Between the Temples, with its love of its messy characters, affection for its faith and traditions, and loving awareness of its community’s foibles. This is a movie whose specificity about Jewish community finds a universal truth about how fellow pilgrims help each other find peace, meaning and joy together, and it’s one of the most beautiful and enjoyable surprises of this year.