Unorthodox is a power portrayal of a Jewish woman's escape from oppression

German-American drama Unorthodox is a powerful portrayal of a woman's escape from a community defined by religion, writes Veer Arjun Singh

A 19-year-old bride, Esther Shapiro (Esty), is going to make an irreligious exit from a marriage that is blatantly unequal. And leave behind a husband, a reluctant master, who is unwilling to question the religious confinement that is tearing them apart. Both of them are trapped. An eruv, a boundary wire, separates their Satmar Hasidic community in Williamsburg from the rest of New York, and the world. But Netflix’s Unorthodox, a German-American drama, is about a dashing escape of only one of them.

The mini-series is inspired by Deborah Feldman’s autobiographical account of breaking out of the ultra-orthodox Jewish settlement — an internet-free zone where men adhere to a strict religious code and women to their second-class citizen status. Unorthodox is an unabashed shaming of the regressive lifestyle of the Hasidic community, especially in the way it treats its women. Men are shown to live a mechanical life meant for strict religiosity, business and procreation, with women at its cruel receiving end.

To be a dutiful wife to Yakov Shapiro (Amit Rahav), young Esty must purge herself of her individuality. Women in the community are not allowed to learn a commercial skill. Education is limited to the rabbinic law. Life till the age of 17 is spent preparing to be a wife, a mother and a housemaker. And then the help of a community matchmaker is sort to find a suitable match.
 

“What’s the boy like?” Esty asks her aunt, Malka (Ronit Asheri), about her husband-to-be. “What do you mean? He is like everyone else. Normal,” replies the aunt.

The female doctor, who explains the basics of sex to Esty before she is betrothed, puts the laws in perspective: “The man is always on top and the woman underneath him. This is the way it is supposed to be.” When things don’t work out quite the way they are supposed to, Esty’s mother-in-law gives her two cents about marriage: “A man must be made to feel like a king in bed.”

To spite the orthodox, Berlin seems like a vengeful choice. But Esty reluctantly follows in the footsteps of her mother who had moved to Berlin to escape the same community and a drunkard husband when Esty was three.

Director Maria Schrader draws a parallel between Esty’s new life in Berlin and the one she leaves behind in Williamsburg. Berlin is the centre of action and the story of her marriage is slowly revealed in flashbacks. The stark contrast is beautifully recreated in the narrative, which begins with perhaps the most powerful scene that sets the tone for Esty’s gentle but firm defiance. New to the city, she befriends a group of music students who take her to a beach. As a setting sun illuminates the water near a house where the Nazis had planned to ostracise, imprison and execute Jews en masse, Esty removes her sheitel, a half-wig that a married woman is supposed to put on after her head is shaved following Hasidic marriage laws, to finally taste freedom.

Even as she leaves a closed world behind, Esty is caught between the forbidden pleasures of making her own choices and the teachings of her rabbi and the Torah that had defined her life till now. The background music, too, has symphonies contrasted with the captivating, dark electronic beats of Argentinean artist Catnapp to capture her submission and resistance.

The Israeli actor Shira Haas, a descendant of a Holocaust survivor, does a brilliant job of internalising the troubles of a young Esty and expressing them in a few defining moments. Not once do the dialogues attempt to define her character, except for during a powerful, deeply moving singing performance that Esty delivers in the last act. Rahav, too, does a convincing act of a sensitive young man brainwashed into ill-treating his wife.

The play of language between Yiddish, English and German, and the attention to detail in getting Jewish mannerisms right, lends authenticity to the memoir-drama. But director Schrader, at times, focuses too much on the conventions of the ultra-orthodox Jewish community, turning most supporting characters into lifeless pawns. Though Unorthodox might come across as a black-and-white portrayal of a tightly-knit community, it is a riveting drama that tells a memorable story of a woman and her two lives.