Yentl (1983)

Change is always something that needs to be appreciated, and in hindsight we can look back at certain ideas and how general perceptions around them have shifted over time. The reputation of certain artists often change over time, whether veering upwards or spiralling downwards. In the case of Barbra Streisand, she has always been one of the biggest stars in entertainment, quite literally bursting through the doors of Hollywood at her first opportunity, and establishing herself as the definition of an entertainment icon, all before her career reached a decade. The question isn’t around re-evaluating her as a talented individual (which is an unimpeachable and perhaps even sacrosanct fact), but rather the specific perceptions that exist around it. We have mercifully moved past the era where willful, strong women are deemed as being “difficult” or labelled as divas or primadonnas, solely because they sought a place for themselves at the table of Hollywood, which was seen as being run by men for far too long, taking quite a while for women to reach positions of power, in which they could make a difference, in whatever capacity available to them. Streisand is certainly not an exception, and even after her breakthrough performance in Funny Girl, she took hold of her stock within the industry and made it clear that she was in control of her career, which she’d not let be defined by male executives and their belief in what a movie star should be, which is precisely why she is seen as such an iconic figure. It took several years and countless attempts for Streisand to step behind the camera on her own, with her directorial debut being Yentl, based on the short story “Yentl the Yeshiva Boy” by Isaac Bashevis Singer, which tells the story of a young woman in poverty-stricken Poland in the early 20th century trying to make a future for herself by donning a disguise as a young man, which gives her the opportunity to earn the education she has been forbidden to have due to social standards of the time. A fascinating and captivating musical drama that takes us on a spiritual and emotional journey, the likes of which we can never truly comprehend until we step back and see the marvel that is inarguably Streisand’s masterwork as a director.

The specific aspects of the story that drove Streisand to decide to make this her directorial debut (after attempting to bring it to the screen by way of a number of directors since the late 1960s) aren’t entirely clear in terms of official reasoning, but it is not difficult to determine why this story struck a chord with Streisand. This is a film about a young woman who knows her worth, and is fully confident in her skills, but unfortunately has to deal with living in a society where women are viewed as inferior, where something as basic as an education is seen as a privilege reserved for men. As someone who fought for her place in the industry for years, making it clear that she was unquestionably talented and worthy of every bit of acclaim she received (which far too many of her contemporaries tended to play down, using praise as an opportunity to showcase humility and almost fay modesty), which is not something that was particularly easy to digest for those who were representing the patriarchal nature of the industry. Much like Yentl Mendel and her plight that comes when she encounters the challenges of being a woman in a society notoriously adverse to seeing them as equal to men (regardless of their intelligence and skill), Streisand knew her worth and did everything she could to find her place with the major players, which makes it impossible to view Yentl as only a simple historical drama, since there is a sincere passion that propelled the film, with Streisand’s personal connection to this material, not necessarily in terms of the specific milieux but rather the overarching themes, being the driving force behind this film becoming such a spirited, meaningful and layered depiction of feminist issues, taken from a perspective we have not seen conveyed many times previously, but which form the foundation for this engaging and fascinating musical drama.

The phrase “Barbra was too old for Yentl” has become something of a punchline, a hilarious and lighthearted statement based around the fact that she was about two decades older than the character was supposed to be, which has been a source of a lot of discussion, especially amongst those that wish to promote this film as being a misguided attempt for Streisand to shoehorn herself into a leading role when she wasn’t the best fit for the material. This isn’t to defend her decision to cast herself and prove those naysayers wrong, since she is objectively not the right fit for the role, but only in terms of the superficial aspects – and while it is always wonderful to see a role perfectly cast with the right actor, sometimes there are instances where someone is almost completely wrong for a part, but the final product is still incredible. Nothing that Streisand does is ever surprising, since she is one of the most reliably gifted performers of her generation, so it only stands to reason that her performance as Yentl would be yet another exceptional moment for her varied and compelling career. She is fantastic in this film, perhaps even more so than usual – she had proven herself as a remarkable comedian from the start, with even the roles that didn’t require her to sing (such as her career-best performance in What’s Up Doc?) showing her to be possibly the most charismatic and magnetic performers of her generation. Yet, she didn’t always get showcases for her dramatic talents, at least not in the vein of some of her contemporaries – A Star Is Born was a good start for a more serious kind of performance, but that film’s production was so troubled, its reputation envelops the more compelling aspects, such as the excellent lead performances. Yentl was a fervent effort to show that she was more than capable of not only singing beautifully, but also delivering an immersive, captivating dramatic performance in which her charm is still evident, but filtered through a more challenging role, which makes this one of her most meaningful performances, and probably the best purely dramatic work she has ever done.

Yentl is a film that undeniably revolves around Streisand, who played a part in nearly every aspect of the film’s production (you could even argue that had she not been playing the lead role, she’d have been operating the camera herself), which has led to the dismissive and myopic description of this film as a “vanity project”, which is thoughtless in how it disregards the abundance of effort that went into this film, not only by Streisand, but the rest of the creative individuals who helped bring this film to life, working on either side of the camera. Streisand was the shepherd, responsible for bringing the story to life – it is centred on her, and she is appropriately cited as the main reason for its success, but not the only one. Mandy Patinkin and Amy Irving are both fantastic, the former in particular almost matching Streisand in terms of pure charisma and talent, and being a perfect co-lead, especially in a role that required an actor who could not only embody the sexual appeal of Avigdor, but also his deeper complexity. There are so many components beyond Streisand’s involvement that do deserve our acclaim, including the music, which was composed by a small team of artists led by the iconic Michel Legrand, who wrote many of the songs. You can argue that there wasn’t any real reason to make Yentl a musical (and some of its detractors have used this supposedly unnecessary choice as evidence for Streisand’s vanity), but the songs, which are mostly presented as the titular character’s inner monologue or in intimate, isolated moments when she is by herself, adds an achingly beautiful element to the film, showing her psychological state as she navigates the challenges she has put on herself. It’s an unquestionably well-constructed film, and only the work of truly strong collaborators, in terms of both the cast and the creative people responsible for transporting us back in time in terms of the production design and costuming (which are some of the film’s most important components) could have yielded such a poignant and meaningful set of results.

It was quite an ambitious choice to have Yentl as her directorial debut, but Streisand is nothing if not thoroughly audacious, and as both an actor and director, she has constantly pushed herself to do even more complex, compelling work that represents everything that makes her such a natural talent. Every element that made Streisand so compelling as a performer and artist is contained within this film, which says as much about her as a filmmaking visionary as it does the social message that forms the foundation of the story. As someone who has constantly pushed for more representation and diversity within the industry, there is something so enduring about this film, which is as much a feminist statement as anything else Streisand would make – it is a product of its time, so there are slight points of contention, such as the length and level of overwrought emotions, which are both valid criticisms, but not anything unprecedented for this era, which was known for its excess, and which this film very easily overcomes by ensuring that there is as much nuance behind these moments as possible, in order to counteract any sense of it being overloaded without any depth. It’s quite difficult to not find value in this film – it has an important social message, a deep set of poignant themes, and a lot of heart, which is perhaps the most important aspect. In an industry where most are making films just for the paycheque or to satiate some craving, Streisand proves that absolutely everything she does is because she truly believes in the material, and it is impossible to ever accuse her of inauthenticity, since she never gives anything less than all of her effort, and with Yentl, she brings so much complexity to a relatively simple story, crafting a touching and soulful tale that says as much about the past as it does the present, which is always wonderful to encounter when correlated correctly. As a whole, Yentl is a triumph in both form and tone, and all the proof we need towards Streisand being a truly gifted filmmaker, and one that should have been afforded far more opportunities outside of the three films she made to explore her talents in the other side of the camera.

One Comment Add yours

  1. James's avatar James says:

    This is one your best essays.

    I love Yentl. The film has the components of great literature. In the Torah, water is a symbol of regeneration. In Yentl we first the young woman stepping across a minuscule rivulet trickling in a groove of a well worn path on her way to the book cart to haggle with the seller to purchase a text of religious study. As the film progresses, the bodies of water Yentl traverses grow larger and stronger till that glorious final sequence where Yentl is heading to a new land across a mighty sea.

    The cinematography here is simply lovely. As a director, Streisand uses light as an illumination. A shaft of light will direct the eye of the viewer to a certain place or action. Moonlight becomes magical. The reflection of the sun off the moon’s surface makes events revelatory. Like a mirror, the light is another form of reflection that permits Yentl to assess her circumstances.

    Yentl is such a rich and powerful masterpiece. There is so much to discuss.

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