Early in my career as a film-maker, I realised I had a problem. Coppola, Scorsese and the other great directors I admired all worked within what I sometimes call “continuous cultures”. Behind their liberal, democratic societies there were centuries of ancient Christian civilisation. By contrast, I lived in modern Israel: a secular state with a magnificent but short history. The founders of my country had a scorched-earth policy, severing themselves from 2,000 years of diaspora to build the new Jew, the Israeli.
I wanted my films to rebuild Israel’s bridge with its past – to reach, through cinema, a culture that had become almost inaccessible to secular Israelis such as me.
It was therefore only matter of time before I would touch the story of the destruction of the Second Jewish Temple. But it was also clear to me that to take on such an immense, epic story would mean finding a unique cinematic language. And so I ended up making an entire film with still paintings, collaborating with the two great painters: Oscar-nominated David Polonsky (Waltz with Bashir) and Michael Faust, who between them created more than 1,500 sketches for Legend of Destruction.
When it came to the words, the Israeli writer Shuli Rand with whom I worked on the award-winning Ushpizin felt the obvious choice and it was a privilege to work with Hollywood actors Oscar Isaac, Elliott Gould, Evangeline Lilly and Billy Zane, who voiced various parts. Editing the movie felt like an endless process of learning, like walking on unploughed ground. I would not infrequently wake up in the night in a cold sweat. Telling the most important, but also the most fraught, story in Jewish history is a huge responsibility.
I began work on the Legend of Destruction in 2013, the year the Arab Spring had just become an icy Arab winter. Israel was in a very different place from where it is today. It felt relatively quiet and secure. The extreme reality of the history we were recreating in the movie, showing the Jews in the late Second Temple period – a bitterly divided society collapsing into civil war and destruction – seemed distant, almost unimaginable. If anything, it seemed closer to the civil wars of our Arab neighbours than it did to Israel. I dug deep into the story, trying to understand how our people could have sunk to this level, and why no one had found the strength to prevent the descent.
The 1st-century Jewish historian who wrote about the Jewish revolt of 66-70 gave me many facts, but little real understanding of the period. Then, I read the Talmud and found that its sages cared far less about the facts than the causes. Their legends point again and again to one thing: there was a vast gap between the few wealthy Jews of the day, who collaborated with Rome, and the poor masses. The latter were convinced God stood with them against the Roman occupier and the Jewish aristocracy.
Jerusalem became a powder keg, and when it exploded, it sent an unstoppable ball of fire rolling across Judea. Many fled while they still could; the rest were dragged into a senseless war of brothers, each side certain of its own truth, its own rights, none willing to compromise.
During the eight years it took to make Legend of Destruction, contemporary Israeli reality began to slowly echo the events of the story we were telling. Simmering social and political tensions threatened to boil over. Political unrest was no longer only a story we witnessed from afar.
Legend of Destruction went on to win four Israeli Film Academy Awards. To my surprise, it also struck a chord across the country’s political spectrum with politicians using it as a warning against the slide toward catastrophe.
In one of the film’s scenes, the Roman army urges General Vespasian to strike Jerusalem while the Jews are divided and being torn apart by civil war. Vespasian slyly mocks: “The moment we near the walls of Jerusalem, the Jews will unite and fight back. Do nothing – let them kill one another. Sit back and enjoy the play.” Two years later his son Titus finished the job. You could argue that had Yahya Sinwar been as patient as the Roman Vespasian, had he waited two more years, Israelis might have done his work for him. Instead, we stand shoulder to shoulder in the longest war the state has known.
Next month, Israel goes to the ballot box and the same questions remain: can we continue to stand together? Can we find ways to bring secular liberals, religious nationalists, strictly Orthodox Jews and Arab Israelis together? What is sure is that to protect democracy we must compromise with those with whom we disagree bitterly.
Although I didn’t know it at the time, Legend of Destruction has become hugely topical about my homeland – even though the events it relays took place 2,000 years ago.
Legend of Destruction releases worldwide across all major streaming platforms on September 15
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