I well remember the assassination of Yitzhak Rabin on Nov. 4, 1995. I was on my honeymoon in Hawaii when it shocked the political world.
I discovered this documentary in a most roundabout way; I'd read that the prison housing Rabin's killer, Yigal Amir, was the same that held Nazi criminal Adolf Eichmann before his execution.
I was deeply surprised on viewing this film at the sympathies aroused by Yigal and his unlikely eventual wife, the four-years-older, divorced Orthodox mother of four and Russian émigré Larissa Tremblover.
According to Wikipedia -- this apparent fact isn't mentioned in the film -- the pair had met previously in Latvia, where then-law student Yigal was teaching Judaism. Eventually, Larissa wrote to and later spoke with the imprisoned Yigal, motivated by a wish to support someone "the state wanted to crush."
The film shows many instances of Yigal speaking by prison phone with Larissa's younger kids, telling them stories, to their delight. Less often he seems to speak with their mom, beautiful and soft-spoken, and, we are told, a "bluestocking" with a Ph. D.
The portrait conjured of Larissa is one of isolation, except when she's with her kids, or viewed in court, perhaps with a wish to glimpse the handsome Yigal in person.
We hear from Larissa's ex-husband, who seems accepting of how things worked out, noting that Larissa has been moved by her feelings, and explaining, "It started in her wanting to help a trapped person, deprived of his rights."
One of his older children opines that Viniamin should have distanced from the situation, but he has remained close with his family.
Although early in the film we hear from Yigal's aggrieved mom -- "Every cell inside me mourned" -- and father, the filmmakers never return to them. Nor do we hear from any friend or relative of Larissa, perhaps due to the infamy of Yigal's offense.
Rabin had signed off on the Oslo Accords, a peace deal between Israel and the Palestinians to which Bill Clinton was a party. We see footage of the subsequent dismantling of an Israeli settlement, evacuation of its residents, and brutal quashing of a demonstration by riot cops on horseback.
Yigal, 26 when he fired three bullets in Tel Aviv, comes across as quite self-possessed, declaring, "I am the one to blame" in news clips. Separately, his lawyer adds, "It wasn't hate or revenge -- he killed Rabin because, if he didn't do it, the State of Israel would perish!"
Despite harsh criticism from many, Yigal and Larissa won the right to marry and have conjugal visits. Their young son is beyond-adorable, and the movie's final frames, showing this tiny, davening presence at the Wailing Wall, are deeply moving.
"I asked the Messiah to come and get you out," he tells his father.
"Beyond the Fear" was directed by Maria Kravchenko ("This story attracted me and frightened me at the same time") and longtime Latvian documentarian Herz Frank, who apparently was dying during its production. "To give it up is to say that I am not alive anymore," he says at one point. I enjoyed his brief appearances in the film.
In a fascinating exchange, a journalist asks Larissa whether she'd have married Yigal if he had not killed Rabin.
"I think I would have married him, but he wouldn't have married me," she replies, citing her older age and being the mother of four.
She and Yigal are "souls of the same root," she says. "Meeting each other, they feel intimacy."
Of her critics, she says, "Many people are ignorant. They either forget or refuse to understand."
Meanwhile, Yigal is in prison for life, and "In God I trust," he says. "I will not be afraid."
I discovered this documentary in a most roundabout way; I'd read that the prison housing Rabin's killer, Yigal Amir, was the same that held Nazi criminal Adolf Eichmann before his execution.
I was deeply surprised on viewing this film at the sympathies aroused by Yigal and his unlikely eventual wife, the four-years-older, divorced Orthodox mother of four and Russian émigré Larissa Tremblover.
According to Wikipedia -- this apparent fact isn't mentioned in the film -- the pair had met previously in Latvia, where then-law student Yigal was teaching Judaism. Eventually, Larissa wrote to and later spoke with the imprisoned Yigal, motivated by a wish to support someone "the state wanted to crush."
The film shows many instances of Yigal speaking by prison phone with Larissa's younger kids, telling them stories, to their delight. Less often he seems to speak with their mom, beautiful and soft-spoken, and, we are told, a "bluestocking" with a Ph. D.
The portrait conjured of Larissa is one of isolation, except when she's with her kids, or viewed in court, perhaps with a wish to glimpse the handsome Yigal in person.
We hear from Larissa's ex-husband, who seems accepting of how things worked out, noting that Larissa has been moved by her feelings, and explaining, "It started in her wanting to help a trapped person, deprived of his rights."
One of his older children opines that Viniamin should have distanced from the situation, but he has remained close with his family.
Although early in the film we hear from Yigal's aggrieved mom -- "Every cell inside me mourned" -- and father, the filmmakers never return to them. Nor do we hear from any friend or relative of Larissa, perhaps due to the infamy of Yigal's offense.
Rabin had signed off on the Oslo Accords, a peace deal between Israel and the Palestinians to which Bill Clinton was a party. We see footage of the subsequent dismantling of an Israeli settlement, evacuation of its residents, and brutal quashing of a demonstration by riot cops on horseback.
Yigal, 26 when he fired three bullets in Tel Aviv, comes across as quite self-possessed, declaring, "I am the one to blame" in news clips. Separately, his lawyer adds, "It wasn't hate or revenge -- he killed Rabin because, if he didn't do it, the State of Israel would perish!"
Despite harsh criticism from many, Yigal and Larissa won the right to marry and have conjugal visits. Their young son is beyond-adorable, and the movie's final frames, showing this tiny, davening presence at the Wailing Wall, are deeply moving.
"I asked the Messiah to come and get you out," he tells his father.
"Beyond the Fear" was directed by Maria Kravchenko ("This story attracted me and frightened me at the same time") and longtime Latvian documentarian Herz Frank, who apparently was dying during its production. "To give it up is to say that I am not alive anymore," he says at one point. I enjoyed his brief appearances in the film.
In a fascinating exchange, a journalist asks Larissa whether she'd have married Yigal if he had not killed Rabin.
"I think I would have married him, but he wouldn't have married me," she replies, citing her older age and being the mother of four.
She and Yigal are "souls of the same root," she says. "Meeting each other, they feel intimacy."
Of her critics, she says, "Many people are ignorant. They either forget or refuse to understand."
Meanwhile, Yigal is in prison for life, and "In God I trust," he says. "I will not be afraid."
