Genocide is just so darn difficult these days; you really gotta get organized. Maybe have a secret club or something and sequester all the members into controlled routines and living arrangements so as to limit the possibility of breach. Helps, too, if said genocide is carried out seemingly without reason or emotion. Sure, that might not help the audience much, but it will get the job done. Actually, the correct term here appears to be “androcide” — the systematic killing of men. Systematic killing of men?! Well get out the Visine and strap on my feedbag; I don’t want to miss a second. Exactly where is this fashionably appropriate revenge fantasy gonna take us?
In a failed attempt to overcome a miserable title – did you consider “Black Widows?” – the Israeli film Madam Yankelova’s Fine Literature Club describes a scene that is less Book Club and more Auschwitz for Men. (“New Auschwitz for Men, by Atra!”) Aging vixens lure oft erudite menfolk from libraries and strip clubs on the premise of love ‘n’ lit to a fortress where the lit happens, but the love … less.
Luckily for us, the first rule of Lit Club is to talk about Lit Club, so I’m gonna go ahead: Sophie (Keren Mor, sort of an Israeli cross between Marisa Tomei and Catherine Keener) is going for her 100th Golden Webbie, or whatever these women call their conquests. One hundred is a bit of a magic number, cuz then she joins the Piled High Club. Sorry, that’s a seat at the House of Lordesses. I like “Piled High Club” better. However, Sophia is *gasp* middle aged and her milkshake doesn’t bring the boys to the yard no more. In fact, award #99 is the work of her friend Hana (Hana Laszlo), a portly aged cleaning woman, who flags down a cheating spouse with promises of more cheating and better cheating than these two can offer. Honestly, we’re embarrassed for everybody in this scene.
Inside the club, Sophia, the book club, and their soon-to-be hotdogs (yes, all in men in attendance will eventually be sold as carnival entrees) take their seats at a round table where the matriarch, “Weird” Madam Yankelova herself (Lea Koenig) sets the mood by reading selections such as “Lady and the Peddler” by Shmuel Yosef Agnon or The Piano Teacher by Elfriede Jelinek, after which, the men are caught completely off-guard when attacked by the help. The help includes Hana – there’s a whole master-servant Gosford Park thing going on there I won’t get into. Honestly, ladies, if you want to do this right, just pull out a
copy of anything by Stephenie Meyer. After ten minutes, any self-respecting listener would not only reason that death has to be coming, but long for its sweet release.
Hana’s desire to get out of the club puts she and Sophia at odds with club fuhrer, Razia (Razia Israeli), who has no room for dissension in the ranks. And this is, essentially, where the plot develops. So far, the film has been very matter-of-fact without answering “why?” Get used to that. You’ll never find out why androcide is going on or why these women specifically have chosen their lives. All the movie really needed was one scene of exposition, something on the order of: “We see that you’ve been abused by men … how would you like some big fat revenge, forever and ever?” But there’s none of that.
Parallel to the meager exposition, Madam Yankelova’s Fine Literature Club offers several bizarre meager realities – the women all live in, essentially, an apartment barracks, each with a personal space completely void of decoration, comfort, or possessions save each woman’s statuette wall. [Kinda gives a new meaning to the term “trophy wife,” huh?] Sophia’s cupboards are completely bare; other than the fact that silverware decorates the club round table, there’s little evidence that either Sophia or her coven eat anything … ever. Between her club-sponsored library job and forced downtime in her Spartan-esque apartment, there’s almost no moment unaccounted for in Sophia’s world.
Honestly, this film held me for Act I. I knew where it was going, but I really wanted to see the execution. This feminist misstep plays a lot like -if I might use this term – a poor man’s The Last Supper; the film simply foregoes all that silly justification and philosophical discussion found in Supper and gets straight to the killin’. Except it doesn’t. There’s a distinct lack of graphic indulgence in this production. This is an R-rated film in a PG package.
As the film wears, it starts unraveling. The scant sets and Keren Mor’s dour demeanor cannot hide the terrible editing and logical idiocies. In one scene, the queen bee plants her protégé next door with strict strict confidential instructions to keep an eye on Sophia 24/7. Within two seconds, the film cuts to a scene of queen bee and protégé literally torturing Sophia for information … take caution ladies, I think Sophia might begin to suspect you’re in cahoots.
Towards the sadly laughable ending complete with a “Scooby Doo” inspired interior chase, the amount of frownies becomes overwhelming — like when did Sophia get a homing pigeon? How could she not question why Joseph (Yiftach Klein) asked for her by name at the library? And how could she possibly get lost in a building she’s visited at least once a week for decades?
There was promise here in the form of plot and set design, but, in the end, Madam Yankelova’s Fine Literature Club is a film in dire need of better editing, a superior ending, and an R-rating.
Sophie wanted to cement her glory
With an addition to her inventory
Her Yankelova chapter
Covertly kneecapped her
Looks like Lit Club has a new story
Not Rated, 88 Minutes
Director: Guilhad Emilio Schenker
Writer: Yossi Meiri, Guilhad Emilio Schenker
Genre: Death by Invitation
Type of being most likely to enjoy this film: Wiki sez it won several Ophirs (Israeli Oscars), so I’d start there
Type of being least likely to enjoy this film: Misogynists
