A vicious circle This creative experiment did not cost the director any great work or great money. The non-professionals who came from the street worked out of curiosity, for a big sincere thank you and a hearty dinner, theirs in the natural scenery of the backyards of Tel Aviv, where a Palestinian teenager, interrupted by easy earnings in a Jewish bakery, earns part-time work from condescending co-religionists, alien to those and superfluous for them, vicious or defamed.
The Gospel verse as an epigraph and the body as an opponent of lust. The Savior seemed to be a sharpener, ruling steel knives, coincidentally, an even greater sinner than the next disciple, questioningly waiting for revelations capable of delivering from conscientious torments.
The agonizing circles of walking behind a silent mentor end with a return to a shaking box of flour, a thundering drumbeat that precedes the punishment that must be performed yourself. The severity of guilt and the irresistibility of sin, emptiness and betrayal. The truth of the matter is the truth of the matter.
A deaf, gloomy, blurry movie with the wandering gaze of a meditating pilgrim, in which there is no hint of enlightenment. Only a knock on a closed door, a vain expectation of an outcast, exposed beyond the threshold and standing at the threshold of disbelief, with self-loathing, fulfilling the commandment of an alien god.