All language subtitles for The.Forbidden.Wish.2019

My brother and I,
when we were little kids,

we had this goy babysitter,

who would tell us stories
about purgatory.

She said that it was a place,
but not really a place.

It's sort of like a dream

in that you didn't
really know you were there.

And you stayed in this place
as long as it took

for you to learn something.

Time and space
didn't even matter.

Do you think that's
what it's like after you die?

It doesn't matter
how it things end.

It only matters how it begins.

Journeying.

The Jewish way of worship.

We carry God on our shoulders.

Diaspora in our DNA.

What keeps us moving?

Jews come from
all corners of the globe.

We do not get
to keep our homes,

so we have to keep moving...

to that land of promise.

My childhood was different
from yours.

Bricks and asphalt.

Heaps of trash outside in bins,

overflowing
with bits of broken glass.

The heat sticks
to the backs of obsidian dolls.

Beyond the road
lies the town of Or-Akiva.

The absorption center
is on an island.

Between two worlds.

Ethiopia and Israel.

The limbo of residence.

The Third World and the rest.

Who are you talking to?

Practicing my sermon.
Yom Kippur services tomorrow.

You look nervous.

That's because you startled me.

Well, then you're focused...

like a laser.

I guess you don't want
to mess up

right before the highest
of holidays, huh?

I mean, after all,
this is our...

It's our last chance to
make amends with the Almighty.

What if you dropped the Torah?

No pressure.

I'm sorry. I...

I don't mean to interrupt.

I was just looking
for a place to dry off.

My name's Isaac.

So you're the rabbi,
I take it?

Yes.

What's it take
to become a rabbi anyway?

Is it like, um...

like some spiritual intuition
kind of thing?

Like being, um...

uh, like a sci-fi
space wizard?

Lots of study.

Ah.

Secret, huh? Hmm.

I mean, you can tell me.

I'm Jewish.

Aren't you gonna
offer me condolences?

I'm just kidding.

I went to
elementary school here.

Are you all right?

You're soaking wet.

Yeah, I am.

I walked here
from the airport.

It's like 10 miles
in the pouring rain.

Long trip.

I just got back from Israel,
actually.

I buried my father
in Tel Aviv.

I'm sorry for your loss.

I love that prayer
that's recited for the brave.

What's it called?

The Mourner's Kaddish.

The music of melancholy.

The perfect prayer
to accompany the dead.

The Mourner's Kaddish
makes no mention of death.

It is the celebration of life.

It praises
all of God's creation.

Well, then why is it
recited a funerals?

To remind us
that we are still alive,

that we are still healthy,

But I'm not, Rabbi.

I'm sick.

No, that's not why
I have the mask.

It's for my protection,
not yours.

No, this sickness,

it can't be flushed out
with mucus.

It's in myself.

Perhaps you need a blessing.

I can perform
the Mi Shebeirach,

the prayer for the sick.

I want the Mourner's Kaddish.

- For your father.
- For me.

You cannot request this
for yourself.

You're alive. Be grateful.

Yeah, my heart's still pumping,
if that's what you mean.

I don't know
if I'm truly living.

It's a 14-hour journey.

This can make anyone
feel unwell.

Yeah, nothing's too good
for dear old Dad.

Then I'll shout,
"Honor thy mother and father,"

and all that.

This is maybe a wrong
translation of Hebrew.

The word "kavod"

means both honor and dignity.

Dignity?

I like that.

Thou shall dignify thy father

by showing up
to his internment ceremony,

even if it is
10 million miles away.

You ever been
to the Holy Land?

Of course.
That's where I grew up.

Really?

- That surprises me.
- Why?

Because you look so...

American.

Were you born here?

Isn't it obvious?

You should go home.
Rest, yeah?

Uh, I can't.

I'm too agitated.

I got in a fight
with my girlfriend,

and I don't want
to talk about it.

Then you should
make yourself useful.

You sound like my father.

Help me with the books, yeah?

Uh, okay.

- No!
- Wha...

Not the Torah.

The books.

Under the podium.

Yes.

What's this?

Don't touch that box!

You're shaking.

You don't have a bigger jacket?

Now you sound like my mother.

I gave it to a crazy-looking
hobo with a fly swatter.

I think his teeth
were made of wood.

There's a lot of interest
in people in this neighborhood.

Yeah, schizophrenics
shouting at ghosts.

The world's gone crazy.
You know what's causing it?

Social media.

Toxoplasmosis.

It's a parasite
found in kitty litter.

My mom had four cats.

I prefer dogs.

My best friend was
a golden retriever named Golda.

Cute.

Twelve years
of unconditional faithfulness.

He's gone now.

Blind obedience, dogs.

You have to earn a cat's trust.

I mean, they are
suspicious of everyone.

Cats also hate being wet.

It's easier to show
compassion to animals.

They are never wicked.

Who says?

Haile Selassie.

And what, does he play
for the Yankees?

What?

He was a great
Ethiopian emperor,

related to King Solomon.

You're an Ethiopian Jew?

Oh, that's cool.

Yeah.

Cool.

Well, Haile obviously never met
a jilted feline.

Anyway, um...

I'm related to Napoleon.

He was defeated by winter.

Still cold?

Constantly chilled
to the bone.

Storm clouds all week.

All year.

It's a record-breaking winter.

Climate change, you know?

I was watching this movie

where they did one of those
computer simulations,

and the ocean rose up
and completely sank New York.

Like the Statue of Liberty

was up to her elbows
in the Atlantic.

I don't think
she knows how to swim.

A tidal flood.

Should we build an ark?

Maybe it's wise
to be prepared, yeah?

Two of every animal.

Uh, let's skip mosquitoes
though.

I don't think I have much blood
left to spare.

Poor circulation.

You need to stop
giving away your jacket.

It was a mitzvah.

The guy was screaming
about the end of the world.

Fire and the brimstone!

What is it about Christians
and burning?

Some believe sin can be purged
through sacrifice.

Oh. Sweating it out
in a schvitz?

I mean, heat isn't bad.
It just makes you shed.

Coldness goes straight
to the core.

Fuses the bone.

I believe
the world is about to end.

Really?

Yeah, I do.

But it's not gonna be
fire and brimstone.

It's gonna be cold.

Bitter cold.

Endless rain.

Sheets of ice
will blanket over the oceans.

Skyscrapers turning into
towers of frost.

It's already starting to happen.

Leaky roof.

God helps those
who help themselves.

Faith is like a house.

It needs a strong foundation.

Otherwise, one big storm
will send it toppling on over.

God builds your home
inside of you.

Well, mine needs a remodel.

That's a real nice paint job
you got there.

You ever gonna get around
to finishing it?

Our youth group
was supposed to finish today,

but because of the rain,
they did not show up.

So you're just gonna
leave it like that?

Uh, Yom Kippur's tomorrow.

And what am I supposed to do?

Oh, no, no.

Are you coming or what?

Uh, make yourself useful.

God helps those
who help themselves.

Yeah, yeah, yeah.

God helps those
who help themselves.

Yes, Isaac.

You get that part right there.

Oh, no, no. Nice even strokes.
Here, watch me.

How did you learn
how to do this?

Um, my father taught me how
to do odd jobs around the house.

He'd say,
"I have a proposition for you,"

and then make me an offer.

He owned a pawn shop,
so making deals was his trade.

Dad thought self-reliance
was important.

It was his idea
to enroll my brother and I

in Jewish private school.

Someone has to carry the torch.

Yeah, especially when it's
so close to being extinguished.

Um...

can the Mourner's Kaddish
be used

to pray for someone
really ill?

No.

We cannot treat the sick
as if they were dead.

It's against Jewish law.

Well, then what if I proved to
you that I'm not really live?

How can you make such a claim?

Watch me.

I'm no good at this.

What?

All right.

Are you planning on
being here all night?

I must close the synagogue
by 9:00.

Okay.

Then I have a proposition
for you.

If I can prove to you by then
that I'm not really alive,

then you'll give me
the Mourner's Kaddish.

And if you can't?

Uh, then I'll finish painting
the wall by tomorrow.

And I'll scrub the floors
outside too.

Now I have paint on my sleeve.

Hey, you're still alive.
Be grateful.

The Magen David
used to be a lot larger

when I was young.

How long has it been?

Uh, I'm 23 now, so...

Eleven years, give or take.

Yeah, math was never
my strongest subject.

The laws of nature are but the
mathematical thoughts of God.

Haile Selassie?

Euclid.

Your knowledge spans centuries.

Education is good, yeah?

I wish I had a proper one.

You did not like it here?

This school sucked, Rabbi.

They were too busy
teaching us Shabbat songs

to cover two plus two.

Things look good to me.

The children are
fat and healthy.

Ah.

I did like the music
during services.

It always conjured images
of old Jews in some shtetl,

dressed in ratty shawls,
hovering over a lit barrel.

Struggling for warmth.

But still, they go on.

Sounds like the school
imparted in you

a sense of community.

Please.
The computer lab had Apple IIs.

In that day and age,
they didn't even have mice.

Better than having rats.

You don't get it.

It is more than what I had.

You can't know something

until you've
lived through it yourself.

No computers,
but you're so smart.

Your speech is
quite eloquent for a...

Ethiopian?

American.

I read lots of books.

Every Wednesday,
an old white lady

would come to the orphanage.

She had wrinkled hands,
like a basket.

Her voice was rusty.

I used to think she had
a frog in her stomach.

Why do you have
all this stuff anyway?

I like to hold objects
just that have been touched.

They're stories.

These things belonged to my son.

It is not mine.

It is not yours.

How old's your kid?

Is he going to school here?

He's in Israel with my wife.

You married an Israeli woman?
Why did you leave?

I was called by God
to tell my story here.

She stayed in Israel to help
with the absorption center.

Do you miss 'em?

What do you think?

I wouldn't know.

I don't relate well with people.

What about Africa?

Ethiopia.

Do you miss it?

No.

But it's your home.

Israel is my home.

And America is my home.

They didn't want you.

The Ethiopian government
denied our presence.

Journalists were told
not to take our photo.

We did not exist.

Israel embraced us.

A sandy kiss.

You know, I just left,
and I can still...

feel the grit in my teeth.

And no one to share it with.

You did not go
with your girlfriend?

Too much baggage.

I like to have room
to stretch my legs.

Mom always said,
"First class or nothing."

My journey was
a bit more cramped.

They had to remove the seats
to fit us all inside.

An entire village
packed inside a cargo plane.

No in-flight movie?

We sang to pass the time.

When we were told
we were over the Holy Land,

we started to clap.

We were finally free.

You made it...

to the Holy Land.

Yeah, we did.

Snowy mountains over desert.

Green fields next to sand.

Blue and pink hues
rich as a painter's dream.

Skyscrapers too.

Built atop biblical history.

I didn't expect it
to be so civilized.

I thought it'd be all primitive
clay huts and sandy dunes.

Other than that...

yeah, it was beautiful.

Were you inspired?

I had a vision.

Like a dream?

Like Jacob and the ladder?

It was terrible.

You can be honest with me.

After I fell asleep
on the beach,

I woke up to this
really awful slurping noise.

The sea was gone.

Just pure bedrock.

And then I saw my girlfriend
at the bottom,

sucking it dry
with a really long straw.

Her belly got so big.

It burst like a beached whale.

You're right.

That is a terrible vision.

Or a hallucination
caused by sunstroke.

It's true, you know.

The Dead Sea is disappearing,

slowly evaporating
under the hot sun.

Climate change.

End of the world.

I mean, the important thing is,
I had an epiphany.

I realized what she was:
just a...

a colorful accessory.

Even the sex felt tacked on.

I broke up with her
at the airport

when she came to pick me up.

She was wearing these
giant purple sunglasses,

and something about that
really pissed me off.

I don't know. It just...

It reminded me that
I didn't really know her.

She was just a mask.

So I...

Hold on.
I need to set the scene.

Okay, um...

pretend we're at
an airplane terminal.

You be me,
and I'll be my girlfriend.

What?

- You're me now.
- Why?

It's play acting. You never
played pretend as a kid?

- Why are we doing this?
- You don't know something

until you've
lived through it yourself.

The new me.
How do you feel?

Confused.

Perfect.

All right,
so I deplane the plane,

and she comes at me like this.

Oh my God, baby.

I miss you so much.
Look at you.

Have you lost
even more weight?

I told you not to skip
any more meals.

Wait. Why are your eyes so red?
Have you been crying?

Well, come on!
Talk to me, baby!

I miss you so much.
Give me a kiss.

I don't want to do this
anymore.

I barely even know you.

How did you know that is
exactly what I told her?

Spiritual intuition.

Oh, come on.
Where's your sense of fun?

That is not my idea of fun.

You dumped her
at the terminal.

Yeah, just like that.

Five years
down the luggage chute.

Look...

it's for her own good.

Right?

I told you I'm sick, Rabbi.

But there's
a more pressing issue.

I was in such a hurry,
I forgot my bags.

Well, maybe someone
will steal my identity.

I hope they do.

They might have
better luck with it than me.

Well, at least
I still have my cap.

Did you know
owls mate for life?

Everyone needs a companion.

My girlfriend and I,
we used to go to, um...

weekly game night
at the local bar.

Do you like games, Rabbi?

Did you spin this dreidel
with your son?

Where did you get this?

It was on the ground.
It fell out of the box.

Hey, remind me.

What are the rules
of the game?

It's been awhile.

A dreidel has four sides.

Oh, thanks.
You can skip ahead a little bit.

I'm not that rusty.

What do the letters mean?

If nun is facing up,
the player does nothing.

Gimel: He gets everything.

Hei: He gets half.

Shin: He puts one into the pot.

May I?

Come on. A dreidel's
meant to be spun.

What would your son think
if he knew

that it was just sitting here
collecting dust?

Once.

I just realized we have
nothing to gamble with.

I don't have my wallet, so...

all we have is our words.

Shin, shin, put one in.

Looks like I owe you one.

Can I sit there?

Ah.

Last week,
my girlfriend and I...

Ex-girlfriend.

Ex-girlfriend and I,
we go to game night like usual,

and I really didn't wanna go
'cause I thought...

I mean, I thought I had the flu.
I was like throwing up all day.

It was like some kind
of stomach bug.

But she said that the fresh air
would be good for my health,

which is bullshit.

Anyway, so I'm sitting there

in front of my untouched plate
of french fries,

and we're playing Pictionary.

You know, the game
where you have to guess

what the other person's drawing.

And she was supposed
to draw the phrase...

Actually, I'll show you.

No more play acting!

What do you do for fun
in Ethiopia?

Count mosquitoes?

Come on.

Start guessing.

Compass.

North. Travel.

Sky.

A bird. Pumpkin.

Up in smoke.

Going up.

Clouds.

Hair?

God.

Bush.

- Pie.
- Huh?

On cloud nine.

Uh...

- Up in the air.
- Yes!

Yes, yes. See?

Easy, right? Well, no.

'Cause nothing's ever simple
for my ex-girlfriend.

She starts drawing a plane,
like the one I took to Israel.

I mean, she's getting
all the small details...

the wings, the windows,
the cockpit.

That was her.

She's always focusing
on the small details

and missing the big picture.

So she's standing there,
scribbling her Picasso,

and I realize shouting out
answers is a useless endeavor.

So my eyes start wandering to
this guy on the opposite team.

He was wearing a bright orange
turtleneck sweater

and had perfectly coiffed hair.

And I'm telling you, Rabbi,
I'd never seen hair so coiffed.

Something's attracting me
to this guy, and...

we make eye contact.

And I just get
this huge erection.

I do not want
to hear about this.

You said I could be
honest with you.

About spiritual matters!

There's nothing more holy
than a magnificent boner.

Hey, don't tell me you've
never had inappropriate feelings

towards a member
of your congregation.

I never have.

Tell the truth!

Truth is the safest lie.

Where did you hear that?

The rabbi before you.

Jewish proverb.

So, Rabbi, can I trust you?

Do you know right
from wrong?

These things that you do
with man is wrong.

People who entertain
those hedonistic things

do not have time for God.

They're spiritually bereft.

I can't help who I am.

Homosexuality is
fundamentally against Judaism.

No, it's not.
No, it's not. No.

Are you going to argue
with me about Judaism?

Who says you look at another
dude and get a righteous chubb?

God? I don't think so.

No, that's all your homophobic
baggage you're projecting.

- I am not.
- And full of contradictions.

I thought you said
everyone deserves a companion.

And by the way,

a lot of things are
fundamentally against Judaism,

especially the Jews.

Our main export
is self-loathing.

Do you hate yourself?

Constantly.

I'm sorry.

He says,
after calling me depraved.

My father just died.
Where's your compassion?

I never said
you were depraved.

You're the one
who's projecting.

Oh, yeah, that's right.
I think you said...

Oh, yeah.

"Spiritually bereft."

As in lifeless, deceased.

Okay, can I have
the Mourner's Kaddish now?

That is not the same thing
as physical death.

Will you stop trying
to move the goalpost?

It's time for you to hold up
your end of the proposition.

It's your turn.
You never took your spin.

Shin again.
What are the odds of that?

All right, tell me something
about yourself, Rabbi.

I opened up to you.

Do you have a question, Isaac?

- Yeah.
- Then ask!

Okay.

Do they have owls in Israel?

There are lots of birds
in Israel.

Lots of black ones?

Are we still
talking about birds?

Why did you fly away?

Why did you really leave Israel?
That's my question.

All nests are temporary.

Right.

But eggs are fragile.

They shouldn't be taken
before they've hatched.

On Purim, my class used to
drop eggs from the roof.

Here.

We're supposed to prevent
their shells from breaking,

so we packed them in boxes
filled with shredded newspaper,

and we'd attach
plastic bag parachutes.

Do they still do
the egg drop here?

We cannot do it anymore
for safety reasons.

A boy fell off the roof
during recess,

and we had to build a gate
on the stairwell.

Do you have a key?

I left a baseball card
in the air vent.

I want to see
if it's still there.

It'll only...
It'll only take a minute.

Or not.

It's in my office.

I can't believe
they put in a gate.

Iron bars don't belong
in a temple.

This place is losing
its intimacy.

They changed the floors.
The carpet used to be blue.

Is color important?

For memory's sake.

We used to call this place
"The Blue."

My homeroom teacher,
she'd say,

"It's Friday.
Line up to go to The Blue."

And then we'd march single-file
down the hill

from the classrooms
to synagogue.

Oh, there was this kid
in a wheelchair.

He would fly down the hill,

arms up in the air
without a care in the world.

I always wondered
what his secret was.

Did you try asking him?

What? No.

No. Uh...

The only kid I talked to
was my little brother.

- No friends your age?
- The kids my age were the ones

I was trying
to protect him against.

They teased him
because he was...

'Cause he was different.

I don't know if you can see it,
but I got this one right here

from a nasty sucker punch
to the jaw.

Small scar. I don't know.

The other kid fractured his hand
though, so I guess I won.

You do any fighting
in your day?

Got the build for it.
Bet you could be a bruiser.

Physical violence is not
the only way to show resolve.

How else do you tell people
you mean business?

Through kindness.

Stopped raining.

Good.

I think this place could use
some more greenery

for the services.

Come. Help.

- It's cold outside.
- Nah.

In my family,
I was one of four boys

tasked with fetching water
from the village well.

I was the youngest
and the slowest,

and my brothers
would scold me

for not bringing back
as much water as them.

One morning on my way back,

I saw a bundle of rags
by the side of the road.

See, we were told to scavenge
for everything we could use,

so I thought this was
an opportunity

to make my brothers proud.

But when I came close,

I saw that the bundle of rags

had the body of
a frail old man in it.

Insects were crawling
over his pale skin.

At first, I thought
that he was dead.

But then he raised a stick-like
trembling arm and pointed at me.

His tongue flicked
at the sight of water,

and he looked into my soul
with pleading yellow eyes.

That morning,
I returned home with no water.

My brothers punished me

by making me go without
drinking for four days.

By the end,
I was so lightheaded,

I could barely stand.

Sounds like
a pretty bad week.

No.

I never felt better...

after giving
that dying old man water.

His look of gratitude filled my
heart with endless lakes of joy.

Though I did not have the word
for it then,

but that was the moment
I learned the power of mitzvot.

I knew my path was to be
taken side-by-side with God.

Maybe you were just
dehydrated.

Uh, I mean, you're lucky
you didn't die.

You realize that, right?

Children can be very resilient.

But everything leaves a scar.

What about the boy
who fell from the roof?

You know about his injuries?

It must have been pretty bad if
the congregation put in a gate.

I'm not sure.

It happened before I arrived.

But I've heard stories.

Was it malaria?
The old man in the rags.

Killed half of our village,
including my parents.

I'm sorry.

Hey, we're both orphans.

Kinda.

How biblical.

The world is crawling
with sickness.

End of the world.

Are you afraid of germs?

Is that why
you're wearing the mask?

Well, yeah.

I mean, I did just get back
from a baseball game.

I thought you walked here
from the airport.

With a brief six-hour stop
at Busch Stadium.

What?

I made a promise
to my brother.

The crowd was packed thick,
like a glacier.

Bacteria frozen
in the ice crystals.

Sickness in every chair.

There's a flu going around,
and I have asthma.

You can never be too careful.

I mean, if I catch pneumonia,

my lungs will fill up
with toxic sludge.

Who perish by water.

No. I have long since
lost my buoyancy, Rabbi.

No.

Drowning is
a terrible way to go.

I prefer a different method.

Something noble.

Equestrian.

Like falling...

from a horse.

Only God can know
how and when.

Mm?

Well, that's the rub.

Free will isn't very free.

There's free will
in all of us.

It exists between two points
on a vertical line.

Two separate body parts.

The top point
is the higher mind.

Our ears, it listens
to the music of the divine.

God's spiritual chorus.

At the bottom is our base,
animalistic urges,

the bony spur of reason.

Our ass?

Our mouth.

It only tastes sensual pleasure.

The ears and the mouth
are in battle.

It's just in this case,
in this moralistic fault line,

where the egg hatches,

it is born when we are born.

When we learn to walk,
it learns to stretch its wings.

This creature
is our righteousness.

Its spine is
invertebrate purity.

It is the choice.

The choice to praise God.

The choice to do mitzvot.

It is the very essence of
what it is to be uniquely human.

The divine choice.

Was leaving your wife and son
divine choice?

Are you trying
to hurt me, Isaac?

I'm just asking questions.

I thought you'd have
a unique perspective.

Why?

Is it because I'm Black?

You can say it.

This has been
on your mind, yeah?

Yeah.

Yeah, so what?

I'm racist
'cause I'm curious?

Your school computers
weren't good?

Try no running water,

no clothing,

shelters that are hot and filled
with young, hungry bodies.

You don't have it bad.

Why come with me
with your self-pity?

Why tell me
this disgusting story

about meeting strangers in bars?

Because I thought
you'd understand.

I told you something
deep within myself,

something I've kept buried
my entire life...

because I trusted you,

and all you did
was call my behavior abhorrent

just like everybody else.

I insulted you?

You've been judging me
since the moment

I stepped through those doors.

Likewise.

See?

We're the same.

You come from a different place.
So do I.

We're very different.

Why? Because you're Black?
Okay!

Look, I know what it feels like
to feel estranged,

to be trapped between worlds,

to be forced upon a skin
that isn't you.

Come on, where's your
spiritual intuition now?

I'm sorry about your loss.

Now I must ask you to leave.

You can leave the jacket
by the door.

But what about our deal?

The youth group
will finish the painting.

No! I know I have to get
something off my chest.

I can't take
any more sex stories.

Talk to a therapist.

I want to atone.

Look. Sixth grade camp.

Such an innocent face.

Yeah.

Yeah, it was all
part of the act.

Back then, I was either...

sad or angry.

I bit a kid at camp
for stealing my Lego.

I drew blood.

The diagnosis came quickly.

Borderline personality
at age nine.

Lamotrigine and Clozapine
cocktail at 10:45.

Lamotrigine is a...

It's an anticonvulsant
used to treat extreme states

of anger and despair.

Keeps me numb.

I see people.

Imaginary people?

No. They're real.

Nagging memories
from people who have left.

Hauntings from the past.

No.

Just my little brother.

He was there
with the fifth graders.

You look different.

It was his favorite hat.

He liked to toss the ball
around best he could.

But...

He had an enlarged heart.

How tragic.

Yeah. Some rare birth disorder
I don't remember the name of.

Every morning,
we'd play catch,

even when the snow
stuck to our hair.

On weekends,
we'd play in the evening.

Sometimes my hands
would get so cold,

my hands would go numb.

And then we went
to every game.

Season pass.

Didn't even matter
if the Owls lost.

That all changed
after I started the medicine.

It was like a cloud of numbness
crept in through my nostrils,

into my lungs.

I slept through the days.

I lost weight.
My bones shrank.

My skin felt like paper.

I breathed helium.
I ate ozone.

I thought...

I felt like I could fly away
at any moment.

People cannot fly.

It is not our nature.

Maybe all it takes is
a big enough gust of wind.

I waited for a gusty day.

And then I climbed...

to the top of this building.

I wanted to see if I could
lift off into the stratosphere,

where the air was so thin,
just like my blood.

You're the boy
that jumped off the roof.

There's your
spiritual intuition.

Were you scared?

I've been scared
my whole life.

The noise can get
so overwhelming.

I just wanted it all to end.

So I closed my eyes.

I took one last step.

One broken leg
and a bruised kidney

and a compressed vertebrae.

But I lived.

I guess I should be grateful.

I wrote a letter just in case.

"Dear Mom and Dad,

sorry for the trouble."

I left it on my bed
before school.

Your life is not yours
to extinguish.

Suicide is stealing
from God's sovereignty.

Stealing?

Like a criminal.

Yeah, I guess that's why
they locked me up.

Spent the next few years at the
at-risk section of the hospital,

while I relearned how to walk,

and they watched
my every move.

Limited visitation.

Couldn't even go outside
without supervision.

A solitary existence.

Not quite.

Oh, when I was first admitted
the hospital,

I had this doctor
with beady pigeon eyes, who...

She kept rubbing them
with the back of her hands,

like a sleepy infant.

I thought she was blind
with fake glass eyes,

and she saw through a little
hidden camera in her pen pocket.

Isaac, I'm Dr. Rodricks.

I'm here to let you know
that you had a bad fall.

Now you're in
critical condition.

I'm gonna be sending you
to the ICU.

You've fractured the neck
of your left femoral head,

and your T11 and T12
vertebral spine.

Do you understand
what I'm saying?

I also had a medical scare.

I had a heart attack.

When?

On my 35th birthday.

Really?

What, were you doing blow
or something?

My wife and I, we were in
the middle of celebrating.

I see.

Must've been
one hell of a celebration.

Yes, it was.

So young to have heart issues.

Just like my little brother.

You should lay off
the pork, Rabbi.

I thought you're supposed
to stay kosher.

The doctor said
it was stress-induced.

I have high blood pressure.

Maybe we shouldn't take life
so seriously.

I know what it's like
to be in the hospital.

You feel so helpless.

And the white coats,
they don't care.

They're just trying to help.

They made me...
They made me feel

like I belonged in one of those
science kits for kids.

You feel rejected too.

A Black rabbi. It must be hard
for some people to accept.

You're the one
that keeps bringing it up.

Yeah, that's because
I know how it feels.

Wait, that came out wrong.

I...

I'm not racist.

I'm not.

I love Black people. I...

When I was a baby,
I had a nanny.

She was Black, and she had, um,
she had large hips.

I admire the
African-American female.

They age elegantly like,
um, like oak trees.

The rest of us, we just
whither away into the ground.

I offended you again.
I'm sorry.

Ah, the doctor say
I lack empathy.

It's part of my diagnosis.

My brain lacks
like something fundamental.

A tether.

It seems quite attached
to that picture.

Kept me company
in the hospital.

Slept right under my pillow.

The ink is fading

Must've rubbed off
on my sleep.

Almost forgot
what he looked like.

When did you see him again?

After I was discharged.

But I was gone so long.

It's like he was
a different person.

People age. They...

Evolve. Like germs.

I expected to come back
to the person in the picture.

But he felt like
a stranger to me.

So I...

So I treated him like one.

He wanted to play catch,
and I refused.

Instead, I went up
into my bedroom,

and I slept until sundown.

And when he didn't come home,

my parents had me
help look for him.

I found him.

Outside.

Face up in the ashen snow.

Eyes frozen open,
looking right up at me.

Heart attack.

A little boy.

His ventricles burst
like a balloon.

I killed my brother.

What was his name?

Hiram.

It is not your fault, Isaac.

The Tanakh says
our days are determined.

Do you know what I felt
when I saw him?

I touched his face.

It didn't feel like skin.

My spirit was alloy.

Not a single tear.

I hid under the kitchen table
during the funeral.

I didn't want my family
to see my dry face.

You were in shock.

My own brother was dead,
and I felt nothing.

It was like
I was on autopilot.

How can I feel nothing?

I am not human.

I am not alive!

It was the drugs
you were taking.

Or I'm a monster.

I hurt people.

My own family.

You mind?

Doctors say I need to watch
my caloric intake.

I have low blood sugar.

How much do you weigh?

That's a personal question.

In Ethiopia, we didn't know
when our next meal will come,

so we ate whatever we could.

You're not about to give me
the whole

starving-kids-in-Africa spiel,
are you?

Okay, I get it.
I don't appreciate what I got.

I'm not grateful.

Well, Rabbi, this is America.

Nobody appreciates anything.

Do you even eat?
You're tiny for your age.

Rude.

I'm not anorexic,
if that's what you're thinking.

I mean, look at you.
You're like a sculpture.

Don't worry.

You're not my type.

You want one?
I always carry a spare.

This won't do.

No.

This won't do it all.

Ah.

You found my sugar stash.

I was saving that
for the drive home.

Well, it's like
our own Jewish picnic.

They're good. Try 'em.

You don't really have
any place to sleep tonight?

What about a motel?

No money.

You know where you get
your next meal?

My mom and I aren't exactly
on speaking terms.

She wasn't the same
after Hiram died.

She was like a ghost.

Three weeks after the funeral,
it's Memorial Day weekend.

You know, my house,
Memorial Day is...

Mom's brisket and gravy.

It's a tradition.
Secret recipe.

But that night,

we're having
takeout fried chicken.

Such a pathetic sight.

So we're all sitting
around the table,

and it's so quiet,
you could practically hear

the crappy mashed potatoes
go hard.

Nobody's saying a word,
and she's just glaring at me.

And so I reach over to get
another wing of original recipe,

and I accidentally
knock over my soda,

spilling it onto the table.

My dad gets up
to get a towel,

and all of a sudden,
my mom just grabs my arm.

"Why did you do that?"

She kept saying,
"Why did you do that?"

My dad tried prying her
off of me,

and then they start
getting into it,

and I'd never seen my parents
fight like that before.

And she packed her bags and left
two days before my birthday.

She didn't come
to your father's burial.

Of course not.

Classic narcissist,

Know anything
about narcissism, Rabbi?

I've heard
the story of Narcissus.

Oh.

The Greek dude who was so
in love with his own reflection,

he drowned
trying to fuck himself?

The official medical diagnosis
isn't too far from that.

How do you know this?

You're not the only one
who likes to read.

They see people as tools.

Things to be used
and thrown into the trash.

They're good actors.

That's what makes them scary.

But behind all that charm,
it's just an empty void.

Electrical signals
in a sack of meat.

People like this
do not exist.

Sure they do.
Just look at the White House.

Narcissists are the worst.

We only exist
to serve them.

I must have inherited
some of her shit

'cause my brain
is just as poisoned.

And Dr. Rodricks called it
borderline personality disorder.

Should be called
borderline person disorder.

You don't lack empathy.

You shared your snacks with me.

What'd I tell you
about acting?

Maybe it was just
so I could get the soda.

But maybe these pills
is making you feel this...

deafness towards people.

Yeah. Yeah, right.

I mean, that's what
I thought too, but...

But...

I didn't take my meds
with me to Israel.

I was so doped up
for Hiram's funeral, I...

I just wanted the pure
experience this time.

And... at first it was okay.

Everything was fine.

I said hi to family
I hadn't seen in over a decade.

Everyone seemed so surprised

I wasn't still locked up
in a loony bin.

My Uncle Schlomo, he kept
patting me on the head, saying,

"How are you feeling?"
Just like Dr. Rodricks.

It was...

I kept it together.

I kept it together.

Till I saw my father
being lowered into the ground,

and then...

And then the noise
started to return.

- And I felt...
- Sad.

Angry.

I wanted to deck somebody.

Anybody!

Especially my Uncle Schlomo.

I just... I needed
to get out of there.

And so I just hopped on a bus,

and I went to
the Wailing Wall.

Seems appropriate.

It was packed that day.

God seemed like He was being
particularly vengeful,

and I'm walking
along the wall,

and the noise
is getting so unbearable,

I just wanted it to stop, and...

I see this little Hasidic man
all by himself,

and he's standing there,
shuckling in deep prayer.

And then all of the sudden,
he snaps out of it.

And he looks at me
right in the eye.

Looks me right in the eyes,

and he smiles.

"Don't worry.

Next year will be better,"
he says.

And the noise stopped.

Is it still gone?

No.

Oh, it only lasted...

ten seconds.

But in those few seconds, I...

I felt...

Peace.

Yeah.

And then the anger returned.

Anger is a feeling.

It's just a part of mourning.

Yeah, but the point is,
I didn't feel sad.

See, it wasn't the medicine.

I don't care about
people close to me.

I didn't cry
at my father's funeral.

It is not late to mourn.

You're probably in shock.

I didn't cry
when my brother died either.

I...

I haven't shed a single tear
in 15 years.

I'm dead.

I am spiritually bereft.

But you went to Israel
for your father

because you cared
about him deeply.

You go to baseball games
to dignify him.

Merely ritualistic comforts.

I mean, you should
understand that.

I'm not even 30 years old,

and I've already lost two
of my closest family members.

And tonight
I'll be the third.

You're speaking
of ending your life.

I've tried it once before.

Maybe this time,
I'll finished the job.

On Kol Nidre?

Right before
the start of the New Year,

when God decides if He'll write
you into his book of life.

Thought it'd make
a good end chapter.

Nothing could be more heinous!

One who commits suicide
willfully

is not attended to
at all.

One does not mourn for
or make any lamentation for him.

Refusing to mourn.

Why does that sound
so familiar?

Such wrathful punishment.

Very Old Testament.

What if there was a man who...

who didn't fit in
with the world?

His thoughts were broken,
like bits of lead,

and when he spoke,
he spit metallic words.

Fixed into a drug-induced
wax marionette,

so that he's not flung between
extremes of anger and sadness.

He takes handfuls of pills
just so we can stop the noise,

but it only makes him numb.

What if this man can't find
his place in the world,

so he decides he's going
to remove himself from it?

Would God make an exception
for a person like that?

The Tanakh says...

God has set before you
life and death,

the blessing and the curse.

Therefore, choose life.

Deuteronomy.

Will you stop reciting
ancient text at me

and just speak to me
like a real human being?

This is as real
as I get, Isaac!

I don't believe you!

How did your dog Golda pass?

Canine cancer.

And did you watch her suffer,

or did you put her
out of her misery?

'Cause isn't that
the compassionate thing to do?

People are different
from animals.

God gave us a soul,

a moral compass,

an ability to decide
from wrong and right.

What about,
what about the mentally ill?

Do we have a soul?

The Talmud says
such an individual

cannot be held responsible
for their actions.

Jewish law applies to people.

Personhood requires
consciousness of one's actions.

I am not a person.

You just proved my point.

- That is not what I'm saying!
- Then what are you saying?

It's complicated.

Not everything is
black or white.

Just like free will.

There's a lot of hypocrisy
in Jewish law.

That is because we never stopped
searching for answers, Isaac.

We welcome debate.

The very word "Israel" means
"one who wrestles."

Which side are you on?

God's.

Truth.

The truth is...

I am already dead.

I... shouldn't be here.
I shouldn't be here.

There's a flaw
in God's creation,

and I'm gonna correct it.

I am choosing this.
Divine choice.

But first I need
the Mourner's Kaddish.

You want me to give you
permission to kill yourself?

I want your blessing,

But I don't need it.

I can go up to the roof
right now.

- No! You cannot do this!
- It's my decision!

God has a plan!

Did He plan for
the death of your son?

He's dead, right?

That's why you hold on
to those things.

How'd he die, Rabbi?
By fire or water?

Hunger or thirst?

Sword or beast?

Rabbi.

Rabbi!

They murdered my son.

He was caught
in an explosion.

Palestinian car bomb.

He was only six.

My Elad!

That's why you left.

You couldn't bear the pain.

Give me the keys!

Not till I get
what I came for.

I cannot provide you
what you need!

The Mourner's Kaddish
is a prayer to honor the dead.

Maybe exceptions can be made.

Jews are in constant motion.
You said it yourself.

It is not up to me
to decide your fate.

I want to finally be free.

Why would you deny me that?

It is law.

Maybe laws can change with age.
Like people.

You've never felt abandoned?

No.

Forgotten?

No.

Liar!

What is this?

A rabbi's not supposed to lie.

What do you want me
to say, huh?

That I feel rejected,
even in my own land?

All my life,
I've searched for a home.

From Africa
to the Middle East.

From the Third World
to America.

Ethiopia discarded me
at birth.

Israel took me in,

but the world look upon
the Jewish state

with fear and disgust.

My own boy,

my own flesh and blood was taken
away by people who want to...

deny me of my existence!

I even had to leave
my own wife.

A piece of shrapnel
got lodged in Elad's neck.

He was in a coma
for five days before there...

When the blood builds up
in an artery.

Hemorrhage.

I held him in my arms
as he took his last breath.

When they pronounced him dead,

I left the hospital,
and I told my wife

I was going to the synagogue,

and I wouldn't be home
for hours.

But you didn't go to temple.

I walked...

and I walked.

And I walked.

His blood was on my clothes.

I wasn't even thinking
about my actions. I...

I felt like I was
outside my own body.

- On autopilot.
- Yes.

Then I felt a jolt
against my shoulder.

This man was heading
in the opposite direction.

He bumped me,
and he kept walking.

I shouted at him to stop,
but he didn't.

So I ran after this man.

I grabbed him by the shoulder
and spun him around.

He was Muslim.

I looked into his eyes,
and all... I could see was...

I demanded an apology.

I demanded my boy back.

And I begged! I begged!

He spat at me.

So I struck him.

He fell to the ground
like a...

like a sack of wet cement.

- Did he...
- He was fine.

I got him some help.

Just a few stitches.

I was in such despair,
and all I could...

I mean, the only way
I could see things was...

Was through anger.

I've always been
a good person.

A devout person.

You said personhood requires
a consciousness of actions.

Maybe...

in that moment
you were so overwhelmed

that you didn't realize
what you were doing.

You weren't really alive.

The congregation
did not share that sentiment.

They gathered outside my home
in Or-Akiva.

"Send him to Africa!"
they chanted.

The rabbinical counsel
gave me an ultimatum.

I was to either stay
and have my title stripped,

or I could go to America

and help with
the underprivileged there.

They did not want me
in Israel.

This much was certain,

not with the Jewish
and Muslim relations

as bad as they are now.

Not much of a fair proposition.

And your wife?

I send all my earnings
back home to her.

I still see Elad.

How often?

All the time.

All... the time.

Hauntings from the past.

Uh, when you slugged
that Muslim man,

did you break his nose?

I broke the rules, Isaac.

God's rules.

I did it once.
I am not doing it again.

You've been trying to
assuage your guilt ever since.

Atonement is
a heavy burden to bear.

Is that what I am to you?

A way to free yourself
of your own guilt?

You're wrong, Rabbi.

The idea that you're responsible
for your brother's death

eats away at you inside.

Not about that.

You're wrong about the number of
times you've broken the rules.

It wasn't just that once.

What are you talking about?

When you were a boy.

You gave that dying man water.

You defied your family,

even at the cost
of your own safety.

- That was different.
- You're right.

You knew it was
the right thing to do.

It's when you saw
the true face of God.

Be compassionate.

Give me a mitzvah.

God's rules
are different from man's.

That is absolute,

100% sanctimonious bullshit!

Some twisted narrative to
make sense of your own problems,

just like your fucking
homophobic shit

that you blame
on a religion.

You scare me, Isaac.

Well, this is a real Isaac!

Unmedicated, angry,
immoral, dirty,

dangerous...

I can't breathe.

What's wrong?

I told him to take
the bus that day.

I was too busy studying
the Torah to protect my boy.

Rabbi! Oh, shit.

Oh, shit. Okay, okay.

I need an ambulance now.

No. There's someone having
a heart attack, I think.

Yeah, yeah,
he's still breathing.

We're at the synagogue.

What do you mean?
The synagogue.

Okay, okay, yeah.
Hurry, please. Thank you.

Hey, hey.

Rabbi.

Keep fighting.

Promise me you'll keep...
you'll keep fighting.

You... You're crying, Isaac.

Yeah, because I'm freaked out.

Only God knows how and when.

Sh'ma...

yisrael...

adonai eloheinu,

adonai echad.

Sh'ma...

yisrael...

adonai eloheinu,

adonai...

echad.

You remember the words.

Your father would be proud.

So would your son.

Make me a proposition, yeah?

I'm listening.

I'll give you
the Mourner's Kaddish.

You have to promise me
you keep fighting.

Please don't leave.

There is no place
for me either.

I have tried finding answers
in Israel.

I've tried praying.

I have asked God
to fix my broken brain

more times than I can count.

I never got an answer.

Me too, Isaac.

We are
endlessly voyaging nomads.

My brother and I,
when we were little kids,

we had this,
this goy babysitter,

who would tell us stories
about purgatory.

She said that it was a place,
but not really a place.

It's sort of like a dream

in that you didn't really know
you were there.

And you stayed in this place
as long as it took

for you to learn something.

Time and space
didn't even matter.

Do you think that's
what it's like after you die?

Mm.

Judaism has no clear picture
of the afterlife.

It doesn't matter
how things end.

It only matters
how it begins.

What was it like...

before it all began?

Ah.

Brown.

Earthy.

Fresh.

The sun hangs low
in the orange dusk

like a celestial disc.

A current of essence
in the air.

It surges with every beat
of your heart.

Uh...

The ground is soft,

but crisp,

like crushed ice.

You can see the Wailing Wall
from there too,

stretched into eternity.

Souls gather around
its edges...

bobbing like luminescent
water reeds.

Busch Stadium
is right next to it.

Every seat
is filled with them.

And Hiram is there.

My son Elad.

And my son Elad.

Elad!

Every child is there.

Every one that was ever born.

Free from sickness.

And conflict.

One community.

A family.

A home.

I see it.

I see it,
and I want to be there.

Are you ready, Isaac?

Yitgadal v'yitkadash

sh'mei raba

b'alma di-v'ra chirutei,

v'yamlich malchutei

b'chayeichon uvyomeichon

uvchayei d'chol beit yisrael,

ba'agala uvizman kariv,

v'im'ru: amen.

Y'hei sh'mei raba m'varach

l'alam ul'almei almaya.

Yitbarach v'yishtabach,

v'yitpa'ar v'yitromam
v'yitnaseh,

v'yithadar v'yit'aleh

v'yit'halal sh'mei
d'kud'sha,

b'rich hu,

l'eila min-kol-birchata
v'shirata,

tushb'chata
v'nechemata da'amiran b'alma,

v'im'ru: amen.

Y'hei shlama raba min-sh'maya

v'chayim aleinu
v'al-kol-yisrael,

v'im'ru: amen.

Hurry, hurry.

It's gonna be okay.

You say that you do not care,

that you do not love,

but you do.

You're a good man.

A good person.

Your brother knows this
better than anyone.

I don't know what to do.

You want to live.

Kol Nidre is the last night
before the Day of Atonement.

We choose to stay
for a reason.

You want another chapter.

But I have nobody left.

Well, keep moving.

Wait.

Take this.

You keep this with you.

Always.

Thank you, Rabbi.

My name is Nate.

Where would you go?

Ethiopia!

The photograph.

Keep it.