Although Jorge Gurvich feels he’s an integral part of Israeli cinema, if something distinguishes him within that small but powerful industry, it is his Latin American soul.

This can be seen in his most recent film, Back to Maracanã, a co-production with Brazil and Germany that just arrived in theaters in his adoptive country after touring numerous festivals around the world.

In the drama, a Brazilian immigrant (Asaf Goldstien) returns with his father (Antonio Petrin) and his young son to his country during the 2014 World Cup, dreaming of being able to attend the final match. However, a lot more happens before the games, including the family reunion and the resolution of old conflicts.

Gurvich, also a veteran cinematographer, directed other projects, including Mrs. Moskowitz and the Cats, the documentary Rig’ei Hesed, and the television movie Her Bare Feet. Below are excerpts from our interview.

Back to Maracanã was finally released in Israel. How do you feel now that the people in your adoptive country can see the film?

It is a great joy! That the film was released only now in 25 theaters throughout Israel, from north to south, was something that did not depend on me or anything. There was a pandemic and things in the world changed.

I go from cinema to cinema throughout the country. I speak with people after the screenings and those meetings with the public are very interesting. I love hearing everything – criticism, opinions – and seeing that people are excited to watch the film.

There is a strong connection between your own story and the one told in the film. Why didn’t you tell the story as an Argentine who returns to his country to watch the World Cup?

Actually, there was the idea to try to do it in the previous World Cup, the one in South Africa, and it was going to be called Dad, is Messi Jewish? But I didn’t have time to develop the idea.

Then the plot totally changed when I realized that in the 1950 World Cup, Brazil lost the final for the first time in history in what was called the “Maracanazo,” where there were 200,000 people watching the game.

For me, an 11-year-old boy from Argentina, it was a shock to hear my father say that there were people who committed suicide in the stadium.

When I was at the 2014 World Cup in Brazil, starting to shoot the movie, I realized that I am a South American Jew who felt very comfortable with all the fans from Uruguay, Chile, Ecuador, Colombia, and even Brazil. I learned that it is a matter of identity and that it was the same if I did the story in any country in South America.

Despite the rivalry that exists between Argentina and Brazil in terms of soccer?

Of course, and from the narrative perspective, I wanted Brazil to reach the final in the Maracanã. My Argentine friends told me, “Are you crazy? You’re a traitor!”

Are you a soccer fan?

In the 1970s, you couldn’t study cinema in Argentina so a month after the 1978 World Cup, I went to live in Israel. I watched all the matches and I always say that in a certain way, football soccer saved my life because at that time, I lived in Córdoba and there was a military dictatorship.

My Jewish friends were very involved in all the revolutionary movements. And many of them lost their lives. They disappeared while I, perhaps as a matter of intuition, was the one who only played ball.

I had never read a book until I was 20 years old. I only cared about football. I played and followed my team all over the country so that sport was my first great love. The second is cinema.

What happened to soccer when you came to Israel?

I only saw a football team that I liked 15 years later and I said, “Wow, there is football in Israel!” But it is a matter of tradition. In a certain way, the film is not about sports but soccer is the excuse to tell the story.

It is a journey of three generations, of a Brazilian-Israeli family that travels to see the World Cup but whose members are all a bit at odds with each other. The grandfather, father, and son do not have good communication or a good family relationship at all.

Ironically, in the film, they don’t get to see any match in Brazil but they reunite as a family and the secrets come to light. In a way, what they experience on the trip to Brazil changes the lives of the three forever.

Was the film a co-production with Brazil or is it totally Israeli?

It is the first co-production between Israel, Brazil, and Germany. The latter was where all the post-production was done, which was very good. We had the entire budget from Israel.

We started filming in 2014 during the World Cup – the crowds, the fans, the stadiums, and the beach. But the budget from Brazil was missing. I returned to Israel and just as the Brazilian team lost 7 to 1 against Germany, I called the Brazilian producer who had the other half of the budget.

He told me he didn’t know whether to continue because they were…he didn’t say the word traumatized but something like that. So, I told him that I really didn’t understand, that Americans made movies about Vietnam and that Jews made feature films about the Holocaust.

He replied, “No, Jorge, soccer is different!” It took him two years to find support in Brazil to close

the budget.

 

After living in Israel for so many years, what was it like shooting your first Latin American fiction film?

I had already made documentaries in Argentina and also in other countries but this is the first fiction film that I shot in South America.

I had a large team of 70 people who were mostly Brazilians. Very few Israelis traveled so it is a film made with Latin American soul and spirit.

And how was your experience being an Argentine who comes from Israel?

What happens is that Israeli cinema has great world recognition, where very good films and television series are made. In other words, as an industry, not only as an art, it works perfectly so getting to South America, which has a different spirit and another way of seeing life, was not easy.

The person (Avner Peled) who traveled with me was the executive producer who has an experience with 250 films. He made, for example, the Golden Globe winner Schindler’s List.

He has all the military experience of the Israeli army in high-ranking positions and that helps the cinema to have a very professional and special working method. Of course, it’s another way of seeing life. In Brazil, everything is very carnival-spirited so sometimes there was a certain conflict in the way of working.

But the exchange was all very nice and positive, even despite the language because Brazilians understand those of us who speak Spanish 80 or 90 percent while we understand them 30 or 40 percent, nothing more. In that sense, there was a certain difficulty in communication.

Speaking of languages, the film is complex because it is spoken in Hebrew, Portuguese, English…

Yes, the 76-year-old Brazilian actor, Antonio Petrin, who plays Samuel, had to learn a little bit of Hebrew as if he were an immigrant and he couldn’t because it was too difficult for him.

And he spent all the time complaining because he had a hard time and suffered a lot so I used his accent with a little humor. The Israeli actor Asaf Goldstien, who plays his son Roberto, had to speak as if he were a Brazilian immigrant who had lived in Israel for 20 years and learned the language in a spectacular way.

People who understand Portuguese say that he speaks very well, and that is a great professional achievement. It is an addition to his excellent performance.

The theme of the different languages ​​generated its own dynamic within the story because the boy who speaks only Hebrew is suddenly lost in Brazil.

I love playing with languages. In this film, there are phrases that are said 90 percent in Portuguese and the remaining 10 percent in Hebrew and sometimes, the other way around.

I experienced that firsthand with family and friends in real life so that’s my personal hallmark, mixing the same phrase in two different languages.

I remember that I also saw that in Vicky Cristina Barcelona by the Golden Globe winner Woody Allen, where some phrases were spoken in English and Spanish but he doesn’t play much with mixing different languages ​​in the same scene.

Are there other Argentine directors in Israel?

Yes, there are even young people who are now studying. That topic of how an immigrant contributes to other cinema is interesting. It’s something that always caught my attention. Actually, our citizenship is the cinema. We are neither Argentines, nor Israelis, nor Europeans.

What presence does Latin American cinema have in Israeli culture? Are Argentine, Brazilian or Mexican films seen?

One issue is commercial distribution and another is festivals. I just came from the Jerusalem Film Festival, which brings many South American films, something that also happens with Haifa.

I see almost all of them. I try not to miss any of them because it’s very interesting for me. It’s something natural. Movies that won awards abroad, those that won an Oscar or an award at an important event in Europe are released in cinemas more often. In general, many South American films arrive in Israel.

Argentine soap operas have a strong impact on Israeli culture. There are many people who learned Spanish by watching, for example, Chiquititas or Natalia Oreiro’s fiction.

It’s true. Many young people learned to speak Spanish or improved their Spanish through soap operas. That was mostly in the 1990s or early 2000s.

Now, I have no idea. In the beginning, it was quite folkloric to see the series that were shown and that were very successful.

Would you like your film to be seen in theaters in Argentina?

I would love that. I will be in Buenos Aires on October 27 and 28, presenting the film at the Jewish Film Festival but I don’t know if it will be screened in some theaters.

It is not easy either – which reminds me that for us filmmakers, when we make a film, it is a work and for the producers, it is a product, and it must be sold as such. Knowing how to sell a film is another profession.

I think the film has a soul and reaches the viewer’s heart and hopefully, many people from different cultures can enjoy it. Back To Maracanã won awards at several festivals but commercial distribution is something else. The difficult part is to release it in theaters anywhere in the world.

What is it that doing cinematography gives you and that directing doesn’t give you and vice versa?

When I was a cinematographer, they asked me, “Are you a photographer?” I answered, “No, I’m a filmmaker.”

Now that I direct films, they ask me, “Are you a director?” So I tell them the same thing, “No, I’m a filmmaker.” In that sense, I always felt that what I know how to do or what is my passion, is to narrate cinematographically, that is, to be a filmmaker.

The hierarchy or the position, be it director, photographer or screenwriter, is something that does not change anything. It is true that you have another responsibility and the work is different but ultimately, it is telling a film from the heart.

As a photographer, you are the person behind the director. It is the first support he receives to narrate a film.

After so many years, what are your thoughts on being an Israeli and an Argentine?

I am a South American Jew. I do not want to belong to any country. The nationalities and all the rest of the questions are draining.

I think the movies talk about our own identity. Naturally, I am a mix but as I said before, I grew up with that “Maracanazo” that they told me. I grew up in Argentina with two Russian grandmothers who told me stories in Yiddish so that I would fall asleep.

So you are that, the one who lives, the one who listens to, and the one who thinks. In Israel, I made a lot of films with Palestinian and Arab, Orthodox, and religious filmmakers. I got to know Israeli society through the content of feature films made by people of different identities.

Living so far from Argentina helped you see that there are more things in common between the different Latin American countries than other things that separate us, right?

Yes. It is true to feel like this, very South American, even at a football level. If there is a final between Brazil, Uruguay, Paraguay or Ecuador against Germany, France, England or Spain, I want the Latin American country to win, even if it is not Argentina. That’s how I realize that.

If that final match is between Argentina and Brazil, who are you rooting for?

There is no such question. I cried a lot when I personally saw the 1978 World Cup final in which we were champions for the first time.

I also saw Diego Maradona play. We especially went to watch the games he was in. Now I see Lionel Messi so all the passion for football is deep inside me.

Translated by Mario Amaya