Arranged

Stefan Schaefer’s Arranged (2007) is a beautiful presentation of the ordinary life of women in patriarchal religions, and gently portrays the way that they find choice in their religious adherence. Based on the real-life story of Yuta Silverman, Rochel Meshenberg (Zoe Lister-Jones) portrays a young woman living with her parents in the Orthodox Jewish community of Borough Park, Brooklyn. Set across the backdrop of gossipy school teachers talking about their juicy weekend conquests, fellow teachers Rochel and Nasira Khaldi (Francis Benhamou), a devout Muslim, are both set to enter arranged marriages.

For Rochel, an arranged marriage means choosing an Orthodox Jewish man from among those picked out by her mother, her aunt, and the Shadchan (matchmaker). Each young man visits the Meshenberg home, introduces himself to Rochel’s father, and then takes Rochel to a nearby coffeeshop on a date.  In contrast, Nasira is not given the advantage of dates out of eye and earshot of her parents. Young Muslim men come to her home and have dinner with the family.  In both cases, it is stressed that those who know the girls best are well-suited to choose a mate that she can love in the long term, and not just for a year or two.

Is he Jewish?

What I found most interesting about this film was the frequent similarities between Islam, Orthodox Judaism, and other insular religions (including Mormonism), in terms of community, clothing, and marriage.  While at the park, Rochel encourages her young brother to play with Nasira’s cousin. “But is he Jewish?” the brother asks, in the same unselfconscious way that I have heard many Mormon moms express concern about their neighbors.  In another scene, Rochel’s mom demands that Nasira leave her home, threatening Rochel with what will happen if the neighbors see her. “You’re ruining your prospects!” she tells her, in reference to her marital chances.

Of course, the animosity between the two religions in the film is much more intense than that between Mormonism and mainline Christianity. However, similar, albeit less intense, scenarios play out in Mormon homes, over issues of whether daughters are surrounding themselves with friends of “similar values.”

I choose to wear it [the hijab]. It’s my choice. As an expression of my beliefs, and my adherence to what’s written in the Koran about feminine modesty.

I took out my endowments in 2002. I was not dating anyone, and had been a member of the LDS Church for about 2 years. The decision was a conscious one — I wanted to own my spirituality, and to have the covenants be about me, not about my future spouse or children. The Initiatory ritual was beautiful, and I found great joy in wearing the garment. It was my covering and it symbolized a promise I had personally made with God.

The day I took off my garments — that choice was also conscious, but it was motivated as a reaction rather than an action. My husband exerted light pressure for me to continue wearing them, prompting me take off the garment for good. I was not willing to let my choice of covering be motivated by someone else’s wishes. If I wear the cover — it is for me. Not because anyone else tells me that I should.

So he have wife, my great-great-grandmother, and she give him 20 childrens. . . She working to cleaning house, to cooking meals, yes? She does not sleep. She making knitting mittens. This is beautiful woman, and she satisfying biggest commandment God sending to woman, because Jewish woman is luckiest woman in world because her job is to serve Jewish man.

In a series of humorous sketches, a montage of Rochel’s various arranged dates is shown, with the men being universally “self-absorbed or [unable to] hold a normal conversation.” As Rochel asserts her unwillingness to settle, her mother uses every argument she can think of to force her to settle down: her father’s high blood pressure, her sister’s blighted marital hopes, the accomplishments that she was allotted time to pursue.

The scene reminds me strikingly of my first time in a single’s ward, as a 21-year-old PhD student and, I learned, an old maid by Utah standards. I am reminded of various friends: one who married a woman that his mother set him up with, a mere 6 weeks after returning from his mission; one who attended BYU to get her MRS, and graduated after   8 months; one who boasted of a fiancé from “fine Mormon stock”.

Ultimately, most Mormon marriages are not arranged in the same fashion as those portrayed in the film. But – I feel – the stress, the pressure, and the expectations may be similar. An oft-repeated quote from Spencer W. Kimball (1977) describes the mentality that I am trying to convey, which is that “[A]ny good man and any good woman can have happiness and a successful marriage if both are willing to pay the price.”

The issue of choice is one that comes up again and again in the film — Principal Jacoby (Marcia Jean Kurtz) is presented as the feminist voice, demanding that the girls consider the choices they have given away to their parents or their religion: choices in their careers, who they marry, and how they adorn their bodies. But the film is sympathetic to religion and so we are shown Rochel’s and Nasira’s responses to these accusations, both publically and privately. In the climactic scene of the movie, Rochel is confronted by Jacoby yet again over her religious choices, and responds, “Why is getting drunk and sleeping with some guy you don’t even know a better way of finding love? I mean, how is it more liberated than how we do it? I have a choice! The community has a choice. It’s different, yes, but I have a say.”


NEXT WEEK: Chris ponders the sacred and the profane in Quentin Tarantino’s brilliant  ‘Pulp Fiction’ (1994).  For a more extended schedule,  check in here.