"My One and Only": A film that finds great pleasure in Talmudic questions
"My One and Only" is a film rooted in two traditions: mystical Talmudic legends about demons and the cinematic obsession with identity swaps. Despite a vibrant and super-rhythmic opening, the film loses some of its focus as it progresses.
With high energy, cool vibes, creative filmmaking on the verge of wild, and a great sense of humor, "My One and Only" is, first and foremost, a lot of fun. This is never something to take for granted, and in an Israeli film that delves into Talmudic issues, it is especially worthy of praise. Our cinema often leans toward gravity and heaviness when entering religious territory; the film by David Tauber—who wrote and directed, with his wife Elia Tauber producing—is a refreshing reminder that it doesn't have to be that way. The first third of the film is easily one of the coolest openings I've seen this year.
The story follows a woman who has returned to religion (Talia Bartfeld), who, shortly after her first birth, discovers that her husband (Nadav Antman-Ron) has been swapped. He looks like him, but he is no longer him. In her distress, she turns to her Rabbanit (Nuvit Sitbon), who initially dismisses her as having lost her mind. Her Rabbi husband suggests she be more attentive, prompting the Rabbanit to seek help from her former teacher (Zohar Strauss)—only to find that he, too, seems to have been swapped.
"My One and Only" relies on two traditions: the mystical Talmudic legends of demons and reincarnations, and the almost obsessive cinematic preoccupation with characters who are replaced—a motif seen in the works of David Lynch, Paul Thomas Anderson, and Christopher Nolan. Tauber dives in headfirst, not settling for a single swap: we have actresses swapping roles, a mother changed by an exorcism, and a grandfather transformed by war. There are metaphorical and physical swaps, blending mysticism and psychiatry, but eventually, there are simply too many.
After a focused and rhythmic opening, the film gets a little lost. While the lively energy is maintained, it becomes dispersed across too many subplots and gets bogged down in unnecessary, excessive digging into Talmudic excerpts, including voiceovers in Aramaic. These quibbles hinder a film that otherwise deserves credit for its pacing (kudos and a reprimand to Tauber and editor Miki Cohen Barlev). The real issue is that the film's ultimate message remains unclear. If it is a story about the difficulty of adapting to changes in those we love, it feels far simpler and less "cool" than the film itself.
Like the writing, the cinematography (Yosef Shalest) looks great at the start but later drifts into mannerisms reminiscent of "Parker Lewis Can't Lose." Despite the slow decline from its peak, "My One and Only" remains a great, fun experience—definitely worth leaving the house for.
