‘Our Loves’ overview: An Overwhelming Subject Gets Underwhelming Treatment in Israeli Drama About People Trying to Survive the October 7th Attack

There are lines of dialogue here and there in Avi Nesher’s Our Loves that criticize Benjamin Netanyahu’s regime and the military’s unpreparedness for the October 7th attack, suggesting a left-of-center political perspective (in Israeli terms) on the events. Nesher, whose Past Life also played in Toronto, told The Hollywood Reporter that he feels the film is critical of the Israeli government and its conduct, and said, “Believe you me, the Israeli government is not happy that the movie will come out two weeks before [the Israeli] election.”

Nevertheless, this will face challenges finding outside distribution in Europe or North America, apart from appearances at Jewish film festivals. That’s not just because distributors are wary of acquiring anything Israeli, regardless of the content. The fact that it’s made almost entirely from the point of view of Israelis, with just one sympathetic Arab-speaking minor character (a doctor) in the ensemble, is bound to rile viewers from outside Our Loves’ homeland — even though the completely even distribution of empathy and perspectives across all concerned parties is a Platonic ideal no film can ever meet.

That said, Nesher’s movie does itself few favors by being so doggedly conventional, sentimental and riddled with cliché, although technically the filmmaking is reasonably competent given what looks like a modest budget that stretched just far enough to include a limited number of extras and a few impressive explosions via special effects.

With unabashed triteness, the opening sequence has all the main characters crossing paths at a pop concert on the night of Oct. 5, 2023. The attendees include highly religious teenage girl Sapir (Daniel Gimpel), who is enjoying some secular freedoms with her best, much-less-religious friend before she gets married to a guy with whom she’s been match-made. Other youngsters enjoying the night out include budding DJ Matan Lavi (Nevo Katan), whose parents Katya (Lena Fraifeld) and Gadi (Lior Miller) are on the verge of separation.

Meanwhile, macho soldier Shabi Liani (Shalom Michaelshvili) is already divorced from his wife (Hagar Danon) and shacked up with a younger woman, much to the disgust of his teenage daughter Liri (Noa Cohen), who is going out with Matan and about to move to the kibbutz where Matan lives.

Finally, local police officer Milly Lasri (Magi Azarzar), a Moroccan Jewish immigrant, is kvetching to her colleague Alfasi (Yaniv Biton) about an upcoming meal where she plans to introduce her traditional mother (Evelin Hagoel) to her secret lover Sandra (Hadas Yaron), who is keen to have a child with Milly.

Cynical viewers used to large ensemble stories where bad things happen at scale may start trying to figure out who of this lot will die by the end, although the casualties among characters with speaking parts are surprisingly few. Things tend to go worse for those who carry guns and have to engage in combat with the Hamas attackers who coming pouring over the border on the morning of 7th, faces masked (enabling their shouted Arabic dialogue to be laid down in post).

While the press notes for the film talk up how the movie is trying to engage with trauma, quite a few of the characters seem less distraught than one might expect given the circumstances. On the day of one of the worst terrorist attacks in history, life is seen going on regardless, with Liri and Shabi somehow mending their broken bond in an ambulance; Matan proving himself handy with a rifle and not just an effete party boy; and, in arguably the most bizarre plot line, Sapir potentially finding more suitable husband material in a yeshiva scholar-turned-drug dealer, who helps her escape an invaded rave after she’s spent the night dancing on ecstasy.

Things even turn out well for the lesbian couple, although one Black police officer ends up with his heart broken. That’s liberal democracy for you.