Samson, beware of the Philistines

Jabotinsky’s novel, originally written in Russian, is a book that accompanied Rinenberg all his youth.

Play director Efim Rinenberg says that his own life mirrors the situation of Samson – as someone who is torn between two cultures, just as Samson was torn between his Jewish background and the Philistine culture he loved so much (photo credit: VITALY FRIEDLANDER)
Play director Efim Rinenberg says that his own life mirrors the situation of Samson – as someone who is torn between two cultures, just as Samson was torn between his Jewish background and the Philistine culture he loved so much
(photo credit: VITALY FRIEDLANDER)
At the end of the play Shimshon (Samson, one of the judges in the Book of Judges) the biblical hero and protagonist addresses the audience and urges them to “get iron [weapons], install a king [central authority and statehood] and learn to laugh.”
He is loudly applauded. The play is the latest production at the local MIKRO Theater.
While it was not clear which of these three recommendations received the most applause from the audience, for the translator, adapter and director of the play, Efim Rinenberg, there is no doubt about which one of the three is badly needed. “Learn to laugh, of course, is the most important issue at stake here and now,” he explained in an exclusive interview with In Jerusalem earlier this week.
“And I am not talking about the famous Jewish humor, the one that enabled us, for centuries, to laugh at our own miseries and tragedies, but rather about the laughter of a people confident in itself and in its right to sovereignty, just as the author, Ze’ev Jabotinsky, meant in the novel on which the play is based.”
Asked why he chose this particular text to put on stage, Rinenberg says that his own life mirrors the situation of Samson, as depicted in the novel and on stage – as someone who is torn between two cultures, just as Samson was torn between his Jewish background and the Philistine culture he loved so much.
“I experienced the same attraction to two different worlds,” he says. “I am Efim, born to an Ashkenazi family in Georgia, and I am also Haim, a child brought up in Ofra after my family made aliya. I have always loved the Jewish texts, but I am totally secular.
“When I graduated from school there, I didn’t want to go to the yeshiva. I wanted to study theater, so I went to the High School of the Arts in Jerusalem, while still living in Ofra. To be a settler, living in Ofra, not studying at the yeshiva, going to an arts school in Jerusalem in the year that [Yitzhak] Rabin was assassinated was an even worse experience. I remember that as we heard the news, everybody in Ofra ran to the synagogue to say psalms for his recovery, and on the following morning, I came to school, after we knew he was dead, and the principal said that a villain murdered Rabin, all the students stared at me. I know exactly what Samson felt when the Philistines wanted him to be part of them, while his fellow Jews urged him to decide who he was and to which side he belonged – that was my own experience.”
Jabotinsky’s novel, originally written in Russian, is a book that accompanied Rinenberg all his youth; it haunted him. He says that even before he was sure he would find his place in theater, he wanted to direct it on the stage. This revisionist author and politically outspoken man sought to bring a vision of openness to the Western world, but one primarily based on Jewish culture and knowledge – albeit totally freed from religious influences.
Asked often why he, a man of theater and arts, finds interest in such a “right-wing” affair and author, Rinenberg says Jabotinsky is exactly what is needed now for Israeli society, and even more, for Jerusalemites.
Bringing Jabotinsky to the stage, he adds, means raising questions for the public, because “he is so relevant to this country, this culture, this people here,” says. Jabotinsky is torn between different cultures – between Western culture and society on one side and traditional Jewish culture on the other. And something similar happens to Samson in the biblical story and in Jabotinsky’s novel, “and it happens to us here every day. It touches us on every side, and I was sure it would raise an echo in the public with questions about what our lives are like here and now,” he concludes.
Asked if he felt the play touched the public as he expected, Rinenberg says that he was not interested in adding one more play to the political agendas of some Israeli theaters, but instead sought to propose something that does not fit the political, usually left-wing, voice found there.
“I wanted to say something that antagonizes. I am not interested in flattering the public – that’s fine with me if they want to kill me, at least I know I haven’t done just more of the same. I did theater. And I hope I did good theater.”
In that context, Rinenberg adds that the very special public in Jerusalem enabled this from the beginning, since haredim, young bohemian students, persons that might be from the Left and from the Right, sit by side as they follow the play, taking it in whatever direction they want to, because it is open to every one’s understanding.
“It’s a very concrete situation, it’s physical, we see real persons, there is nothing virtual in this play – I put the emphasis on the corporeal, carnal, substantial presence of the actors on the stage,” Rinenberg says.
Another aspect of this new play is the hosting theater – the Mikro Theater founded and directed by a group of artists who made aliya some years ago from Russia.
“The fact that in Israeli culture ‘scene Jerusalem’ does not exist is a sin. Everything is Jerusalem – it is the major problem and it is the solution. Avoiding Jerusalem in all the streams of our culture and reality is the major problem. This is what we should be busy with all day. And this theater is here, in Jerusalem – otherwise it wouldn’t exist.”
Shimshon is based on a novel by Ze’ev Jabotinsky, and is translated, adapted and directed by Efim Rinenberg. It features Ofer Yerushalmi in the title role. It will be performed – in Hebrew with Russian surtitles – at the Mikro Theater (inside the Jerusalem Theater compound) until the end of June. For more details, see mikro.co.il