When religion and sexuality come up together in movies, the storyline involving their intersection is more often than not a negative one. Progressive and enlightened views don’t tend to make for very dramatic films, so the tendency is to focus on repressive religions that hold their parishioners back from exploring their true selves.
That is certainly the case with Disobedience. Ronit (Rachel Weisz) is a photographer living in New York after having been shunned by her London Orthodox Jewish congregation, led by her father, Rav Krushka (Anton Lesser). When her father dies, she comes back to London for his funeral and right back into the controversy that caused her departure: her forbidden relationship with Esti (Rachel McAdams).
Esti is now married to Dovid Kuperman (Alessandro Nivola), a rising leader in the congregation who might take it over after Krushka’s death. Forced together by circumstance, Ronit and Esti find themselves irresistibly drawn to each other once again, with the stakes of that attraction being even higher than they were before.
The film is directed and co-written by Sebastian Lelio, whose 2017 movie, A Fantastic Woman, recently won the Oscar for Best Foreign Language Film. Lelio and co-writer Rebecca Lenkiewicz, working from the novel by Naomi Alderman, fill the film with emotions, both positive and negative. Ronit’s re-introduction into a society she despises is counterbalanced by her joy of reconnecting with the one person who has made her feel love.
It also juxtaposes the ability to love whomever you want with the strictness of Orthodox Judaism, in which women have very little power over their own destinies. Lelio emphasizes this divide on multiple occasions, perhaps hitting the audience over the head a little too hard at times.
The focus of much of the early press surrounding the film has been on a sex scene between Ronit and Esmi, and it is certainly a doozy. However, it’s less for the titillation factor than it is for how it underscores the depth of feeling between the two of them. Years of frustration and longing are released with a rush of sexual hunger, and every action they take shows how much they’ve needed each other.
Still, the film seems to be missing that certain something to make it fully connect. The conservative nature of the Orthodox Jewish community is obvious, but unless you’ve been part of that religion, it’s difficult to fully grasp its tenets. The ending of the film also leaves something to be desired, as it delivers a resolution that seems to be at odds with what had come before.
Weisz and McAdams make the film what it is, each giving a fully-realized performance that reveals everything you need to know about their respective characters. Nivola is strong as Dovid, but as the film is mostly about the women, his part is somewhat underwritten.
Disobedience makes no bones about where it stands on the oft-contentious relationship between religion and sexuality. The journey Ronit and Esmi take toward freedom is full of pitfalls, but it’s ultimately a rewarding one.
Only in Austin does recording in a tin can create excellent sound. Specifically, this "tin can" is a 1955 Spartan Imperial Mansion trailer, a spacious mobile home converted into a relatively cramped studio. But the unconventional setup is no match for producer and engineer James Westley Essary.
Essary and his videographer brother, Brantley, have been using the space to build up their inner circle of musicians, capturing intimate performances in professional recordings available on YouTube. Live From The Tin Can premiered its second season on April 15, 2024, and is looking forward to a long string of diverse performances to come. Right now listeners can enjoy Ron Gallo, David Ramirez, Vondré, John Calvin Abney, Angel White, and more on the YouTube channel.
First up this season was Worn-Tin (an amazing coincidence of a name), performing "Hard Ease," "Bitter," and "Kid Changed," a pleasantly lackadaisical series of alt-rock romps, somehow squeezing in two drum sets. Worn-Tin, like many other artists this season on the YouTube series, performed live at South by Southwest in March. The festival, along with the concurrent Luck Reunion, brought a wealth of artists to the Live Music Capital, so the Tin Can crew took advantage of the easy scheduling.
"South By's website is actually a great way to find out who was coming into town," says Brantley. "So we started thinking about things like, what is what is their sound like? What is their performance like, and will that translate into our space? ... [We] just started contacting managers: 'Hey, do you have a free morning, free afternoon? Want to come by?' The sessions only take about a couple of hours."
Although the Essarys are hoping to get more national acts into the Tin Can to boost views, their hope is that over time they can narrow their focus back to local artists. (The series premiere featured Austin band Kelly Doyle.) Beyond the view counts, these recordings are mutually beneficial; Artists don't just get exposure, but lasting high-quality recordings for free, and the brothers get to build a portfolio. Westley, who just goes by his second name in conversation, appreciates the stylistic challenge.
Producer and engineer James Westley Essary does the auditory impossible.Photo courtesy of Live From The Tin Can
"I get to create a little calling card, [and] they get a way to push their new record when they're rolling through town and on tour," says Westley. "As you put out records you get pigeonholed ... I want to make a punk record, and I want to make a metal record. I want to make a country record. So it allows me to be able to dabble in whatever I want — whatever we book in the studio."
Making these connections was Westley's main goal in creating the series during the pandemic. It'd been a loose idea at the producer's prior studio, with occasional shoots for social media. As we all remember, 2019 was not famous for its sense of urgency. But when the studio was "sold out from under" Westley in October, he got tired of hopping from one rental to another.
He bought the trailer in December 2019 and spent the following year working on it. The end of his work coincided with Brantley's desire to move back to Austin from Seattle, so the returning brother provided the property to park the trailer on. The rest was good, old-fashioned pandemic restlessness.
The Tin Can in all its metallic glory.Photo courtesy of Live From The Tin Can
"When you're on the road all the time, you're meeting new bands every day, because you have a different opener or something," says Westley. "And I was like, 'How can I bring that to me?' It's a lot of fun when there's not really any money involved. You're not dedicating a ton of time, necessarily, to it. Bands come here, they have a really great time, [and] it's really nice to be able to host them."
Of course, recording in such a small space has its challenges. Most of the solution was in arranging; not the music, but the musicians. Placing everyone just right minimizes the bleed of certain instruments into other microphones, and as long as the singer stays relatively still, the drums — the biggest culprit — mostly keep their sound to themselves.
Some issues are also fixed with slightly quieter playing, unintentionally creating a sort of sonic brand for the series. It's not all bedroom pop, but the combination of a cozy recording environment and slightly restrained volume makes for some homey performances. This also works nicely for Westley — isn't that happening a lot? — who says he usually prefers listening at home to watching in a crowd.
Still, live recordings add a certain spice to the music. Many music fans will attribute it to the organic mystery of musicians clicking together, but Westley thinks there's something else at play. There's no substitute for practice, and by the time musicians are making live recordings, they've probably played the song live dozens or even hundreds of times. That allows for improvements on the original ideas — sometimes ones that originated in the studio at the time of the first recording.
Ron Gallo squeezes into the Tin Can.Still from Live From The Tin Can
It's also an easy way to make additional income without writing more, he says. Brantley points out that live music has always been at the core of the business.
"Live music has been at the top for forever," says Brantley. "Now we've got artists selling out huge arenas. They're competing with the NFL; They're not competing with movies or TV as much anymore. ... So I love the opportunity to not just record live music, but also film it. You're getting a full experience of both the really compelling live recording [and] even more compelling video to watch them in their element — really playing it live rather than just in a box in the studio."
The next frontier for the Tin Can crew will be hosting live shows onsite. Westley will be in the trailer recording while the band plays outside, and eventually Brantley might start capturing video, too. Also down the pipeline are audio-only live recordings, so listeners can enjoy the tunes without relying on YouTube.
One episode featuring NOBRO from Montreal, Quebec, is out now, with more to come. Next up is Evangeline from Los Angeles. Follow along with Live From The Tin Can ("Like and subscribe," says Brantley with a smile) on YouTube.