In order to understand the nature of this unorthodox Israeli import, one must first understand the double entendre contained in the original title and the subsequent act of treachery involved in translating it to "Rabies", a simplistic title that necessarily seems to infer some form of viral outbreak. In Hebrew, Kalevet does mean "rabies", but only in the formal sense of the word. On a day-to-day basis, it is rather used as a versatile curse word, something akin to the American "fuck". Hence, what is implied by the title is both a clinical expression meant to describe a form of murderous frenzy AND a vernacular expression meant to express one's fiery emotions. As such, it informs both the serious nature of the onscreen violence and the playful, darkly humorous character exposition. Such blending of formal and informal meanings also extends to the narrative structure of the film, as formal expectations are often met with informal tribulations in a constantly surprising, often clever effort in genre subversion. That said, while it seems innocuous enough, the original title selected by the filmmakers is actually bursting with meaning, the actual depth of which was completely overlooked when choosing a politically correct international title to help promote the film abroad. This also provides yet another example of just how far North American bourgeois are willing to go in order to protect their fellowmen' ears from harmless expletives on the heels of translating French shocker Baise-moi (Fuck Me) to Rape Me. And while the present travesty doesn't alter the original meaning completely, it remains an infuriating display of gusto from the champions of hypocrisy, nations that will sooner give medals to child killers than allowing their own children to use curse words...
Strangely enough, the issue of treacherous translations is also quite relevant to the notions of misunderstanding and incommunicability, which permeate the film's storyline and reverberate across time and space to crack the veneer of Israel's shady military complex. For one, I was far less surprised by the fact that Rabies came out of Israel, a warring nation located in a boiling kettle of angst and hatred, than by the fact that it is one of the first Israeli horror films. Perhaps was it long overdue as a means to channel one's murderous impulses away from Native Palestinians and into the realm of popular arts... That said, while it seems to represent a breakthrough in therapeutic craftsmanship, I was quite skeptical at first as to the film's overall quality. After all, any given "first" is usually derivative of better, older material. It often seems, and especially where genre cinema is concerned, that greatness comes with maturity. And seeing how this is not only an Israeli first, but also the first feature film by both co-directors Keshales and Papushado, Rabies was not a sure bet at all. Luckily, my skeptical mindset left me ripe for a surprisingly positive experience. Because while the film is indeed derivative, it is only so in order to better deconstruct narrative conventions, and surprise the viewer who thinks himself in a comfort zone.
 |
| The spectacle of shapely blondes going down deserted country roads is certainly overdetermined, but the present film goes beyond any conventional reading thereof. |
Most of the time, you know a good film from the very first shot. Here, that first shot contains nothing but darkness, darkness and a panicked voice that fills the entire theater with a biting sense of dread. This disembodied voice belongs to a young woman fallen down a trap, sudden victim of a brutal manhunter roaming the countryside for prey. The fact that the pit in which she has fallen is actually a trap intended for human beings should surprise no one. What will surprise you is the clever double-framing of the young woman's brother, leaning at the edge of the pit looking down. The young man thus belongs to a film within a film (or frame within a frame) and his appearance coincides with that of the two directors, looking down into a familiar sub-genre and deciding to bare its mechanisms with rare savvy. With the following narrative taking shape in rather conventional fashion, as many obligatory types (obnoxious young yuppies, an older couple on a RV trip and a pair of colorful crooked cops) are succinctly exposed as they congregate toward the trap-laden forest home to the trapper, they set up the table for numerous role reversals and many baffled expectations, as well as some rare insight into the nature of violence in the countrywide hunting ground that is Israel.
Pushing plausibility aside imperiously, and relying on broad caricatures to hammer their point about the predictability of genre cinema, Keshales and Papushado create a playful variation on a well-known theme by relying on misunderstanding, a device transplanted from the comedy genre with great effect, and incommunicability, two notions that hold paramount interest in their parallel investigation of Middle Eastern violence as a whole. This allows them not only to create a relevant meditation on the absurdity of war, but also to achieve some narrative economy by creating new from old. Their protagonists sure as hell resemble those of American slashers: sparkling but vacuous, with preppy clothes and shimmering cars to match. These four kids are out in the country, driving daddy's luxury van, when they are mingled in a series of sordid affairs. In typical slasher film fashion, they even run over a guy whom they presume has died from the blow. But nothing is farther from the truth, for he will become a pivotal character in the narrative. You see, he is the guy we first saw leaning over us, and whose sister is now being dragged through the forest by a kaki-clad hunter. But everything is not as it seems for the would-be killer is put out of commission very early and the remaining characters are left to kill each other in a series of misunderstandings and through some randomly placed traps. The fact that the people herein are killed by the people who you would least expect, and not some lone psycho that has come to embody the whole of evil, is somewhat symptomatic of the paranoid mindset one would expect to emerge from the Middle Eastern powder keg. And so are the convenient landmines peppering the scenery. They're all reminders of the homegrown type of violence which has transformed the lone psycho into an irrelevant figure defused by the multiform, antagonistic nature of violence as depicted in the film. Misunderstanding then becomes more than a simple narrative strand, but a potent reminder of how violence often originates, how it is sustained through time, and how it is the absence of dialogue which keeps it alive forever. As such, misunderstanding finds its reflection in the notion of incommunicability, or the constant choice to eschew dialogue in order to better indulge in a gratifying brand of purgative violence.
 |
| Violence rooted in petty rivalries and the desire to protect oneself from outsiders: the first Israeli horror film... |
The mechanics of action and reaction contained in this film actually go a long way to help us make sense of the Israeli mindset, caught in between two distinctive brands of violence: their own violence, which is gutsy and instinctive, a means to protect one's own interest in the face of overwhelming adversity, and the violence of their rivals, which is sneaky, but ever-present. Hence, the edgy stance of the protagonists, hence their fratricidal struggle, hence their jumping the gun in front of anything that can be conceived as a treat. Hannah Brown's negative review of the film for the Jerusalem Post is actually quite enlightening in that regard. In her opening paragraph, she mentions just how unimpressive horror films appear to the inhabitants of Israel, who must deal with the threat of "suicide bombings, missiles and wars" on a daily basis. Inadvertently, she thus seems to warrant the explosive nature of violence contained within the film, which she calls "random" in a later paragraph, unaware that random is the most precise, most accurate epithet befitting the nature of violence in the Israeli context. After all, aren't suicide bombings and unmarked landmine explosions some of the most random forms of violence out there? Maybe that's just an outsider's opinion, but it seems to me that a heavily militarized nation almost completely surrounded by enemies would be rather quick to jump the gun and eliminate any random element which it saw as a threat, a contention from which the film seems to proceed almost exclusively. Violence replaces dialogue here, as it does on a regular basis in present-day Israel, and the constant threats under which the protagonists come under is a huge reason for that. For one, I was surprised with how conveniently minefields are used here to entrap and challenge the protagonists, but that was without realizing just how tight the mine belt is around the Israeli borders, especially in the Golan region. In my opinion, the presence of mines as a constant reminder of an outside threat also informs the characters' edgy recourse to violence. Used primarily as a cheap narrative device, it acts nonetheless as a potent reminder of one's place in the chain of violence that has entrapped both the Israeli and their Palestinian counterparts alike.
In the end, the film's insight into the politics of violence and its subversion of genre conventions are only skin-deep. And so the informed horror fan should manage to anticipate every twist once the inner workings of the film have been established and it has been made clear that every plot device will be systematically turned around 180 degrees. Characterization also becomes problematic as the protagonists exist only as archetypes to be undone. Fortunately, this shouldn't prevent anybody from enjoying the film on a visceral level as it relies on loads of shocking onscreen violence and a cleverly irreverent script (featuring some of the crookedest cops on this side of Bad Lieutenant and some strange contentions as to the sexiest things a woman can do) to keep you entertained throughout. As for the two stunning leading ladies, they light up the screen so brightly as to make you forget about any flaw that might plague the film.
3/5 Extremely interesting for its playful subversion of genre staples and subtle dabbling into the politics of Israeli violence, Kalevet is eventually limited by the very conventions that it vies to undo.
