On This Happy Note (2021) - full transcript

Anat Gov, one of the most influential playwrights in Israeli theatre, is preparing for her death. She asks Arik Kneller, an artists' agent, to be the executor of her will. Arik struggles to accept the humor and serenity with which she faces her upcoming end. Anat, consciously accepting her nearing end, wishes to leave a spiritual legacy: there can be a happy ending. Almost a decade after her death, her loved ones try to fill the void left by her words with their own. Through excerpts from her plays and footage of her family and political world, a new script is written: one in which the line between the play and reality is blurred.

Rolling?
-Give a second, just a minute.

A second, just a minute.

You can only say that in Hebrew.

"Give me a second, just a minute."
-Great.

I don't know where...

I need you to help me.
-With what?

I don't know where to start.

It doesn't matter,
you can start from the middle.

Every writer knows that.

Do you wonder
when it will happen?

Of course.
-All the time.



It keeps getting delayed.

Like...

I thought it would happen faster.
Really? -Yes.

You thought you wouldn't be here today.
-Yes.

Most people take being alive
for granted

and death is a complete shock.

But that's absurd,

because the only certain thing is that we're
going to die, no one leaves this world alive.

There's no way, right?

So the most obvious thing is death

and it's a miracle
every day that we're alive.

Think about all the blood vessels,

at any given moment one could get clogged.
Think of a car.

So what's obvious is not that
we wake up healthy every morning.



And then you appreciate life more.

When you don't take life
for granted,

every bite, every sip, every...

smile of a child, every conversation,
it's all...

intensified.

And even more so
since I found out I have cancer.

I've never been asked to a meeting

with someone who wants to talk
about their literary estate

while they're still alive.

Your reaction was so strange to me.

Yes. -Because talking about it
is no big deal for me

and you reacted as if you'd never
heard the word "death" before.

Look, I come from...

not only my family background,
but also,

I come from a place

where cancer is a word
you're not allowed to say.

I know people who are sick...

When my mother was sick,
the word was never mentioned.

Really?
-Never.

The word did something...

Before I had cancer, when people
asked me how I'd rather die,

boom on the street
or heart attack in bed.

Or to know in advance
that you're going to die.

Most people prefer the boom.

Not me.
I always said so.

-Yes, I want to prepare for death.

And one of the reasons
I asked to meet with you

is that I want to leave behind
a clean, organized desk,

including my estate,

because writers,
much to our delight,

70 years after they die,
I can still...

send regards to my family.

I lost my parents relatively young.

My mother died when I was 23

and my father ten years later,
both from cancer.

From a very young age I was at the top
of the pyramid, no one above me.

Only when your second parent dies
and you become an orphan in stereo

you truly comprehend
the first parent's death,

at least for me
it was like that.

And then you say, okay,
I'm at the front now.

How am I going to be?

You have to ask yourself
what you're going to do with that.

Dealing with my parents
and my thoughts

about how I'm going
to take on death.

And my decision not to be afraid of it
is what the play is about.

It happened by chance.
My neighbor

Eran Baniel,
was hired as director of the Khan Theatre.

He wanted to bring in new people
and asked me to write a play.

So someone came and asked you.

Yes, and it was very difficult.
-Really?

Very. It was during
the first Gulf War.

I remember it

being such a nightmare

that I hoped a missile
would hit the Khan Theatre.

so I wouldn't have to do it.

What is it?

Someone was run over.

Oh no, what happened to him?

Dead.

Good. At least he's out of his misery.
-True.

Are you a doctor?

Far from it.

Just passing by?

Wrong again.

Then who...

Never mind, none of my business.
Good night.

I'm death.

What?

Death.

So skinny?

It is what it is.

Are you for real?

Yep.

Why didn't you say so before?
If I had known,

I wouldn't have been
so rude.

You have no idea how happy
I am to meet you.

Pleased to make your acquaintance.

Mind if I smoke?

On the contrary.
-Thanks.

I'm not allowed to smoke at home.

The kids are killing me for every cigarette.

It's all in our heads.

We have many fears in life.

Fear of flying, fear of spiders...

Once you're not afraid of death,
it includes everything,

there are so many therapists
for this fear and that fear,

but this includes everything.

Because once you decide to live
without fearing death,

you don't fear anything.

Wait a minute,
you're not afraid at all?

No.

Not even a little bit?

Absolutely not.

Not even a slight tremble in your knees?

A small heart fibrillation?
Nothing?

A fibrillation of happiness, maybe.

Happiness?
-of course.

I've never seen such a reaction.

No?

No.

That's strange.

Usually people are afraid of me.

Why?

I am death!

We're starting to repeat ourselves.

Why don't you sit down?

But you're aware that most people
are terrified of death.

They really don't want to die.

Just the thought, the moment,
makes them tremble.

There's something
screwed-up in this world,

everyone dies, all the time,
every minute,

from stupid things too.

Wars, accidents, knives,
parking spots, kids falling out of windows.

Really, people die all the time.

Now, the Buddhist approach
that says

it's like a leaf falling off a tree,
does the tree cry? No.

Okay, so new leaves will grow.

That's the way it really is.

But we think
we're so important.

I think that part of letting go

is giving up some of your ego too.
You can't have a huge ego

and not be afraid of death,
it doesn't go together.

So I may be lucky
not to have a huge ego.

I never did,
I was born with a little one.

Here are...

the negatives and
their contact prints, see?

Wow.
-And here's a print.

It's cool to look at it through this.

Yes.

I want all of these pictures.
-Okay. -This one is beautiful.

It feels like you're inside the picture
when you look through this.

There's a difference between
not being afraid of death

and...

remaining here after
someone very dear to you died.

It doesn't matter that
we grew up in a family

where we spoke about death
and laughed about it.

It's the same pain.

It didn't reduce the pain.

It all began when my parents
took me to see Kazablan

when I was 14.
First play I ever saw.

I fell in love
with Yehoram Gaon, totally,

and in that magical world of theatre,

it was as if I'd awakened
from a 14-year coma.

"Zip, zip, zip, zip, zip-ee-dee-dee,
zip, zip, zip, zip

"In my hand, in my hand..."

It's strange that I thought
I could be an actress

because...
-By nature...

I'm one of the shyest people I know.

When I see myself, I don't
understand who that is standing there

and dancing,
frolicking like a gazelle.

Not like a gazelle,
I'm as stiff as a board.

At my audition for
the army entertainment troupe

I finished on my knees,
because my legs were shaking so bad.

They put me in the back,
so no one could see.

What was it like being
in the Nahal troupe? -Amazing.

First of all, I had a boyfriend.
-Gidi.

So it was great.

We were a couple

and we had these seats
on the troupe's bus

that we set up with lighting
and a curtain,

like business class.

So there's the issue of her family

who weren't too crazy about me.

They wanted a doctor.

Classic situation.
I was a singer and...

She didn't ask for their blessing.

And we became a family straight away.

When we got married,

I think that over the years,

we were together for about 40 years,

you...

Not you. Me.

Not you guys. Me.

I realized that...

I wanted to grow old with her.

We'd be this old couple,

80 years old,

we'll be so nice
and it'll be fun,

the kids will come over and everything.

Only after my second son was born,

I said to myself, okay, another banana,
another this and that, I got the picture.

Now what?

I heard they were looking
for writers on "Zehu Ze".

I thought I'd give it a try.

Zehu Ze, that's it...

I gave the head producer a script

and she let everyone read it
without telling them who wrote it,

back then I still wrote by hand,
there were no computers.

Only after everyone approved it,
she told them it was me.

And then you started writing for "Zehu Ze".

Tempestuously.

The human race has ruled the world
for many years.

Foolish, kindhearted creatures

that turned the world
into a place

where one cannot live in peace.

These are Israel's borders,
generally speaking.

Who can show me our borders?

I learned,
I learned from them how to write

From them?
-Absolutely. -How?

They'd throw away whatever wasn't good.
On Zehu Ze, there was no time for:

"Listen, it's good, but no".
They'd just toss

the pages behind them.

"Okay, come up with a new idea,
let's think."

She passed me, that maniac.

No,

we passed her
in the opposite direction.

No one has ever passed me
and lived to tell the tale.

And then you learn,

Zehu Ze was the best writing school ever.

I was in that magical world

that fascinated me,

which isn't reality.

These people...

Don't worry, Juliette.

As it says in the bible,

the bad guys always lose.

Yeah, but it's not like that in real life,

there is no happy ending
like in plays.

And then I missed the theatre.
-Yes.

I love the rehearsal process
in theater,

I don't like
when the play starts running.

I hate premieres.

After the Cameri Theatre got the play

they thought at first to do it
at their tiny hall.

Because it's for girls, you know...

So I managed to get into theater,
but not in a big way.

It was a huge, huge hit.

I think it's one of the first plays

that saluted feminism.

I used to come at around 8:00,
the play was at 8:30,

just to get a whiff of the scents

around the box office,
because there were 700 women.

It played 700 times and it went down

because they couldn't do it anymore
and we didn't want to replace them.

The three actresses

Keren, Sara and... -Anat.
-Waxman, yes.

Did the magnitude of the success
surprise you? -Yes, of course.

Success is a surprising thing.
Failure is obvious, again.

It's a matter of attitude, but...

failure sinks in
much more than success, right?

Why is that? -It's very hard for us
to truly experience success.

I say to myself, experience it,
it's a success, but it's in your head.

It doesn't sink in.

The question is,
what is a good friend?

Oh, come on.
A good friend is a good friend.

It's not mystical, it's scientific.

Tirzah isn't a good friend,
I am a good friend.

Science according to Sophie.

If a good friend means being loyal, standing
by you at times of need, then it's Sophie.

I told you so.

But if a good friend is having a good time,
rising above reality,

then it's Tirzah.

There you go!

So you suffered with me
all those years?

I didn't say I suffered,

but all we did was talk
about your troubles.

I truly am sorry that my life
is not as dazzling as Tirzah's.

Excuse me, I work very hard
at making my life "dazzling."

I just try very hard
not to bother everyone

with every problem I have.

It's mostly among girls,
I don't think it exists among boys.

Good friends?

We're a totally different race
and we don't have...

that fuse.

I came to the production

and everyone's with babies.

Edna Mazya and Anat Gov
are standing in front of us

and we work according
to the breastfeeding

and the schedules of the kids.

And it works.

We saw that it's possible
to be a huge hit

as a total mother.

And this insight struck me

and I thought,
the world needs to change, not me.

Suddenly I was only with
other women

and that was incredibly powerful.

Faster?

Edna and Anat...

She didn't leave home, but...

they were two women
who stuck to each other,

became friends

and artists.

Edna directed most of her plays.

They became one entity,
they became one.

At first we felt badly
for our other friends,

so we'd go to Jerusalem
so we could be open about it,

seriously.

That's where the term
"friend on the side" came from

in "Best Friends."

We fell in love, definitely,

we fell in love,
we spoke the same language.

We laughed,
that was the main thing, laughing.

We'd sell our mother
for a joke.

Someone called us
a two-headed monster.

We were like one person.

We complement each other,
we're not alike.

No?
-Not at all.

Edna is assertive,
she knows what she wants,

she has good aesthetic taste,
which I don't exactly have.

There were two times
where she insisted and she was right.

Then during that part she'd always
say: "You see?"

I said,
"What the heck is that joke?"

And she said, "It's really funny."

I said, "It's not funny."

And the audience roared.

I don't see the problem
with a blow job now and again.

I think it's a waste
and I don't like the taste.

Army food isn't that tasty either,
but we ate it.

I quite like the taste.

You're nothing to go by.
Do you like the taste too?

Look, it's not gourmet dining,

but I've never been picky about food.
I'm an orphan.

The audience interrupts me,
they're laughing.

And Anat gestures to me, wait,

wait, wait.

But I want to talk.

But the audience is laughing.

She says, "Wait, wait. Now."

Hillary doesn't do it.

Hillary doesn't have to.
She has others to do the dirty work for her.

Her punch lines are so precise,

if you change the slightest thing,

it doesn't work.

Before Tirzah became famous,
you were always at my side.

From the moment
she became famous,

there was a rapid, panicky shift
towards Tirzah. It's only natural.

Everyone wants to be
on the winning side.

It's not a war, Sophie.

Everything's a war.

Life is a war.

It was like being in a movie.

Dead bodies, tanks,
and it was all so bizarre.

The next day we performed in the Golan Heights
for guys who'd lost half their regiment.

We didn't comprehend,
it was such a shock,

you can see on their faces

that it's horrifying,

and the idea that we could make them
laugh or entertain them

was bizarre too.

No one understood
what we were doing.

When we started performing in hospitals
a bit later on,

you suddenly see the insane amount
of wounded soldiers.

It was really...

And you realize
that war isn't a song.

By sheer coincidence,
today is Remembrance Day.

You left me a message yesterday,
"I'll come after the siren."

You called me last night at 7:59,
you think I'd answer before the siren?

I prepare for the siren like for death.

You...

It won't catch me off guard.

What's there to prepare?

I know exactly where
I want to stand for the siren.

Where did you want
to stand yesterday? -In the yard.

I like to be outside.

I like to see people.

There's something about
everyone standing,

it works like a Swiss clock.

No matter how much
cynicism there is...

As a little girl,

I'd cry my eyes out, every year.

The national anthem and the siren
on Remembrance Day.

It still works, I must say.

Yes, what works for me

is that silence,
it's suddenly silent,

everyone shifts down a gear.

And you feel like you're part of something
for just one moment, unfortunately.

Because right afterwards
it goes back

to little crumbs.

So perhaps for that moment,
at least for me,

from my ripe old age
I did have that experience

as a little girl

of one Israel,

small and just.

There's a longing for that,
so that moment preserves that feeling.

And the terrible sadness
that the wars don't end.

And probably never will.

It's some kind of instinct.

It started after Rabin's assassination.

I wasn't sure
if I could write an article,

it seemed to me like...

She used to write out of anger,

both plays and publications.

And when she was angry

she'd write the article in one go.

I had an arrangement
with Yedioth Daily

that I wouldn't write regularly,
only when something pissed me off.

There was a time when
lots of things pissed me off.

After Rabin's assassination

you felt the need
to meet settlers and...

I met with settlers, orthodox,

Israeli Arabs, Palestinians,
I went to checkpoints.

Whoever didn't think like me.

I had the best time
with the orthodox.

Really?
-Why?

They have a good sense of humor.

"What does a woman want

I'm not sure what

But what is for sure is that

she wants a little peace and quiet

Every woman has

her own goddess

Where are you, my goddess,

do you need me too?"

I don't accept the fact
that you put us in an immoral place.

Not you people.

Not us. -All of us.
-All of us. -Right.

Not me, not the settlers, us.
Israeli society.

But we're responsible for these women
who give birth at the checkpoint.

We're both responsible and not responsible.
-We're the occupiers.

That's not true,
there is no occupation anymore.

No, no...

I can't feel fully happy

until our neighbors
have independence.

And I can't enjoy my freedom

if it comes at the expense
of the freedom of others.

So I hope they get to have
their own Independence Day.

I'll be very excited when
they have their own Independence Day.

I may even feel for them
what I felt as a child.

And then I'll be able
to fully celebrate Independence Day.

But it doesn't prevent me from seeing

all the achievements we've made and
how lucky we are to have a state.

As long as there are things that can be
done and fixed, there's hope.

Your situation is worse than ours.
I'll tell you why.

I go into Israel every day.

I have nothing to fear.

I just go.

But you Israelis

are now sitting at home,
in fear.

You're afraid to get on a bus,

to go shopping,

to go far away,

but I have nothing to fear.

What should be done?

If all the women

from Athens and Sparta unite

and declare a sex strike,

they'll have to make peace.

We just have to close our legs.

It's so simple

and so brilliant.

Anat Gov drew fire.

She's Anat Gov,
she's Gidi Gov's wife,

she's opinionated,
she's a journalist,

she write articles
for newspapers,

she speaks on TV,

she's in entertainment
and theater and writing,

she studies Torah, she's not ignorant,
she's dangerous.

She was attacked
because of the Ariel affair,

Anat was one of the leaders
of the protest not to perform in Ariel.

Anat said to me,
I'm going with you to the Knesset.

Edna said,
you're not going.

She said, I am going.

Anat Gov.

I'd like to remove two words
from this discussion's lexicon.

There is no insubordination,
we're not soldiers, there are no orders here.

People have the right to tell
their manager their opinion.

Boycotts are not part
of our terminology.

There is no boycott,
we have nothing against the residents of Ariel.

We're talking about crossing
the Green Line.

Regarding the third and fundamental thing
that we signed this document for.

An actor can go
to a theater manager

and say:
"I don't want to perform on the Sabbath"

which is the day
when theaters are full,

"because I observe the Sabbath."

He wouldn't fire him,
he'd respect him.

That's not true.
-You're wrong.

Folks...

That is slanderous!

That is a populist statement!

But can you understand that
some people feel the same pain

like if you had to
desecrate the Sabbath?

Just tell me if you accept that.

I understand.
-Okay.

Now the money issue?
-Yes.

How much money has gone to settlements?
-How is that related?

It's out of my pocket.

The state subsidizes Shas yeshivas

and many other things
that are not to my liking,

but my money still goes there.

You're not doing us any favors
with the cultural budget.

Every country in the world
subsidizes culture,

culture always rebels against
the establishment,

shows its wrongdoings, that is its role.

Let's just say that

when I watch the news, it doesn't make me
feel like having chemotherapy.

You don't think, wow,
it's so great to be living here.

Not the world, the world is beautiful,
but people are very cruel.

So she says,
let's take this God who is

doing such a good job
at killing us,

in the name of some...

"If you don't observe the Sabbath,
you shall die,

"if you don't this or that,
you'll be stoned."

Let's take this guy

who you believe
created this splendor

and let's talk to him.

You have violence issues.

You got used to solving everything with
"a strong hand and an outstretched arm."

You don't want people to love you,
you want them to fear you.

Your blazing wrath,
your raging anger! It's like...

an abusive man.

Like what?
-An abusive man.

An abusive man?

You're always angry, you have
outbursts of rage and then punish terribly.

And right afterwards you're
terribly remorseful.

That's the pattern of an abusive man.

You're a danger to the public, sir.

That is the stupidest thing
I've ever heard in my life,

and my life has been very long.

And it's the same
with everyone you love,

especially the ones you love the most.

You love the Jews the most, right?

"The Chosen People,"
hooray for us. How romantic for us.

Let's see what we got out
of that enthralling love -

400 years of slavery, 40 years in the desert
without a decent bathroom,

a tiny period of happiness

until you lost your temper again
and sent us into 2,000 years of exile

in places where we were treated

to pogroms, inquisitions and Treblinkas.

That's love!

Not any ordinary love,
it's a covenant, right? A covenant!

We cut a bit off
our sons' dicks for you

and what do we get in return?

We get screwed!

Are you nuts, talking to God?

But she really did talk to God
when she was little.

I thought it was so funny.

I said to her, what for?

Who are you talking to?

She read God's biography,

she was interested in this entity
and used to talk about him a lot.

And I always refused to listen.

I said to her,

he's not our friend,
we're not his.

And it's her most
successful play worldwide.

Do you believe in God, Anat?

Not the one that
religious Jews believe in,

not the one who
sees what we're doing.

and asks us to tear toilet paper
ahead of time for the Sabbath.

I believe that we should
be good people.

Good people.
-Yes.

There was definitely

a completely private Anat
who wasn't mine or anyone else's.

She was hers.

And whatever I don't know,
I don't know.

I don't want to know,
it's hers, it's her.

They really look alike here.

It's interesting that
you didn't have to work hard

to bring out this intimacy,

because it really was there,

there's no pretending here.

How are you feeling?
-All right.

All right?

I'm not really all right,

but when you're near me

I forget everything.

We need to talk.

What about?

About your death.

What's there to talk about?

Were you writing about me, Anat?

Did you have me in mind
when you were writing to these characters?

She took "Househusband"
from her own life,

after Gidi...

She got home one day
and found the kitchen...

as if someone
had been slaughtered

with red on the ceiling, filthy.
She called me and said,

"Gidi made ketchup."

I said, instead of getting mad,
write a play, it's a great scene.

Making ketchup at home

is like making hummus at home,
only much worse.

It's completely idiotic, but...

that's what I was.

I don't do those things anymore.

Turns out
you need 30 kilos of tomatoes

just for one bottle.

You do something with them,

then pour vinegar into it and...

I don't know what,

puree it.

The kitchen was all red and filthy,

but I made ketchup.

It was just a one-time thing,

but Anat saw it
and was appalled.

What happened here?

Writing always helps me,
because it breaks down the...

Instead of letting it out negatively,
it comes out positive.

I got back from Costa Rica so happy.

I sat there on the balcony
with the parrots and the animals...

We had to do that medical exam,
so we did.

What's it called?

Gidi and I went together
for a colonoscopy, very romantic.

I went in first.

When the doctor woke me up,
he said,

I want you to come in to see me
tomorrow morning.

So I said to him,
why, do I have cancer?

Just like that?
-Just like that.

And he said, yes,
but you won't remember me telling you.

I said, you think I won't
remember something like that?

Then I said, I'll come alone,
don't say anything...

Why alone?

I wanted to feel free
to ask the most difficult questions

without feeling sorry for anyone.

And then he spoke with me,
I was very cool

and I told him
I didn't want to do anything.

Of course,
I was completely hysterical.

I remember saying to her,

we have to go to couple's therapy.

So there's a psychologist
and you say to him, oh my god, etc.

She was very cool about it.
She said, make me laugh.

There's something
almost abnormal about that,

someone tells you this thing
and you're totally cool.

Not only that,

when I left the clinic...
-Yes?

I stood outside
and thanked God.

You did?

Yes, that my kids are grown up.

Okay.

That it happened to me
and not someone else in my family.

He said I'd have to have

a big operation and chemotherapy,

and it turned out...

at the second appointment

it was clear that it had metastasized.

What they call stage 4.

There is not stage 5 in cancer, so...

And you don't feel anything either.

So perhaps

if ten years earlier...
She should've gone, obviously.

Every doctor I saw said,

how can you be so stupid

when you have a history
and it's hereditary?

Because if it's detected early,
it's like you never had it.

So if you had gone ten years ago...

Even five or three.

But those are the facts of life too.

It's the same one

who didn't go get tested.

It was the only time she broke down,
right at the beginning.

She cried.

And that's it, it was over.

You just live with it.

The Angel of Death is here.

Everyone's going along with me.

If I don't make a fuss about it,
then there's no fuss, life goes on.

We go to treatments,
he drives me there and back.

Do you talk about it a lot?
-Of course.

We talk about afterwards.
I talk about it too much, they're sick of it.

Right, right, yes, yes,

you talk about it very freely.

I can look at women on the street
and say they'd be right for him.

Oh my goodness gracious.

That's what it was like.

"I can't believe
you're saying that!"

Because it's unbelievable.

She's looking at girls.

Not girls. Women.
-Women, I'm sorry.

I'm sorry, Anat.
-We're talking about old people here.

I'm sorry ,Anat.

Although you never know.
-You never know. -You never know.

I highly recommend him,
he's a great guy.

But you never know anything.
Now that I think about it,

knock on wood,
I don't dare to ask you...

what...

What don't you dare to ask me?
How could you not dare?

Because not everyone's like you, darling.
-It's no big deal to me.

But it is to me!

That's the difference between us.

No, I'm saying

that this could be a situation...

that is completely irrelevant.

What do you mean?

That perhaps...
-I won't die?

Yes.
-I'll die someday.

But it could be in 20 years,

which you don't believe.
-Let's just say

it would be a medical miracle.

The statistics are five years.

Okay?

10 percent get through
the first five years,

I was never in the top ten percentile

in any class, in any situation,
in anything.

So I don't think so,

but yes, there are medications,
so another year or two.

It's megalomaniac to think 20 years.

After the last test I did,
which came out well,

I said to myself,
my next play will be

about a woman
who prepared for death

and then doesn't die.
-I wish!

I wish.
-And then she starts complaining.

Because once you're
in that state of mind

there's something disappointing
about continuing to live.

You know.

At the end of the day,
life is 95 percent

errands.

Yes.
-Right?

I'm listening.

95 percent. And five percent?

Five percent pleasure.

Five percent pleasure?

Think about your daily routine
and you'll see.

This broke, that needs fixing,

you need a plumber,

you have to pay the bills
and do this and that for the kids

and go to school and talk to the teacher.
-Is writing also an errand? -No.

It's not.

Writing is the meaning of life.

It's the greatest gift.
-Yes? -Absolutely.

Aside from my family and kids.
-Of course.

I need a tiny bit of
Jewish mother-ness from you,

Anat.

You are a Jewish mother after all.

My most important creations
are my children.

No doubt.

This is my family.

Or rather, it was my family
up to two years, three months

and four and a half days ago.

How time flies when you're dead.

Of course they were sad
when I kicked off,

but they got over it.

Did they stop eating?

Of course not!

I like when the kids
come over on Fridays.

Tradition is tradition.

I won't be at the Seder this year.

I can't hear you.

I'm not coming to the Seder this year.

What do you mean? -I mean
I'm not coming to the Seder this year.

I don't understand what you're saying.

What's to understand?
I'm not coming to the Seder this year.

You won't be with us on Seder Night?

Where will you be?
-I'm going away.

You're going away?
-To Finland.

On Seder Night?

The day before.

Mom!

What Mom? I have a right to know why
you're abandoning me on Seder Night.

There was no question about it,
since I was born,

we did every Seder
at my grandmother's.

That's it.

When Gidi's mother
came to the play

she said to Anat afterwards,

"It's incredible, there are people
like that woman, I know some!"

My mother used to say,

"What if Grandma dies?" Now,
my mother wasn't a typical Jewish mother

but on this issue...

My grandmother really was old
and could've died.

But she didn't.

And who will sit where?

And then it turned into
one hell of a story.

I don't want to go to the Seder, okay?

I don't want to. I'm an adult
and I'm not interested.

The whole Seder thing,
this Israeli-Jewish coercion,

this madness, this craziness

got a very nice play out of her.

Life has turned
into writing material.

Ultimately.
The family, everyone, paid...

the price. -Yes.
-I say that jokingly. -Of course.

And it gives you
a different perspective on life.

Even when something bad happens,
like cancer,

I'll try to turn it into
something good with writing.

I said to her,
why the hell not write a play?

What do you care?

You're not afraid,

all those things that are built up
inside your soul,

and that come without any fear...

Now it's just a certain strength
inside of you.

So she said,
nah, I'm not interested.

What for?

I said, then what's the point?

Then you're just sick, without...

turning it into something. I always
told her, "Turn the defect into an effect."

I have a deadline.

I love working with a deadline.

Really, it's...

Even them putting it
in the theater's brochure

is actually...
-Obligating. -Exactly.

In my case
the deadline really is a deadline.

When a doctor tells you,
there's nothing more we can do...

So there's another good year left,
it's okay.

I don't understand
why we're talking about death.

Can you say that again?

I don't understand
why we're talking about death.

Top floor, outpatient oncology center.

Why don't you try.

Give it a chance.
Maybe you'll hold up better than you think?

At least try.

If it's bad for you,
don't come for the next treatment.

No. If I start,
there'll be no end to it.

Humans are adaptable, greedy creatures.
Of course I'll hold up

and discover amazing strengths

I never knew existed.

What are you so afraid of losing?

Human semblance.

Did you think at first

not to have any treatments?

Of course, and surgery...
-You didn't want that.

No way.

But I did it all, like a good girl.

The operation was defined as
a massacre by those who were present.

Because they took out
many parts of your body.

At the time,
did you want it to be over already?

There were moments at the hospital, yes,
when I wanted a pillow over my face.

So it would end.

And the kids having to come every day...

It's exactly what I swore
I never wanted.

But when the doctor told me,
you have kids, you have a family,

and your consideration isn't just...
-Yes, yes.

I said to him,
I've always put myself last,

perhaps death is the right moment

to listen to myself
and do what I want.

He said, no,
you still have an obligation.

I got the family together
and told them I was doing it

only if no one gets depressed,
we take it all in good humor,

they all carry on with their lives,
no drama and no oy-oy-oy.

When she started
her first chemo treatment,

which she really didn't want to do,

but the family pressured her,

Gidi and I

went with her
to the hospital for the first time

and the lovely nurse, Bruria,
who Anat loved very much,

walked into the room
and read us

the list of medication that
Anat would have to take.

And I could see
how she was turning it into a scene.

No sugar, no salt,
no coffee, no meat

No chicken, no milk,
no butter, nothing fried

Nothing cooked,
nothing spicy, nothing tasty

We'll let it drip slowly-slowly

One hour or two

You might experience
some dizziness or a hangover

So don't try standing up on your own

On your own

Tingling in your toes
is just a side effect

If you feel nauseous at home,
you've got some Pramin here

For severe nausea,
take Zofran

Zofran...

You're not coming to see a tragedy,
it's a musical.

The only problem is
Zofran has side effects too

Really bad headaches!

As long as I live in peace with it,
as long as I'm functioning.

Not needy, not dependent.
That I refuse to be.

Let's elaborate.

I don't want to be dependent,
to be cared for.

One time
I was in the hospital after surgery

for three months.

I got the picture,
I don't want to be there again.

You don't.
-No. -I see.

Listen, I was a rock and roll chick.

Not everyone can say that.

A rock and roll chick
can't die like this,

with a bald head, right?

There's something
I don't get here,

your wish,
which you express more in the play,

of someone who didn't want
to undergo treatment.

But it's not that she doesn't
want to undergo treatment

because she wants to die.

Nothing here is a result
of her wanting to die.

She wants to die right.

She wants to die right,
just as she lived.

I want a happy ending.

You think if you refuse treatment
you'll have a happy ending?

If I can die right, then yes,

that would be a happy ending
for me.

And what's "to die right"?

Dying is an art just like any other.

Knowing when to exit the stage,
leaving a taste for more.

That's to die right.

To enjoy the months I have left,
say my goodbyes to everyone,

maybe I'll even have time
to fall in love.

Some people prefer
short-term relationships.

I want to meet death
when I'm at my best,

not full of holes, cut up.

I want to know when to let go.

That's a good death.

"To die without slowly killing those
who will remember. "

Wow, what a monologue.

Nothing gets through to you.
What kind of doctor are you?

You're all damaged goods.

Gets through to me?
Gets through to you!

This isn't a play, this is your life!

And of course I cry.

I cried at all of Anat's plays.

You get this blow of emotions,

you suddenly say...

I think that whoever
receives this gift

of knowing you're going to die,

you can do something with it.

There's a reason for it.

And it is possible
to have a happy ending.

In the sense of a good death.
There's a good death and a bad death.

Even in death,
there is that option.

And a good death is when
everything's organized,

nothing's left unsolved,

you said your goodbyes,
no missed opportunities,

no regret.

That's a good death.

Don't you get mad sometimes?

Not at all.

Not at all?
-I never said to myself,

"Why do I deserve this?"

Yes, yes, yes.

No one deserves this.

There were people who said,
"You don't deserve this." Who does?

Who does?

As if the world works that way,
those who deserve it get it

and those who don't, don't.

I keep thinking, where's the bug?
Where's the catch? -What is she hiding?

She's hiding something from herself.

And maybe that's healthy.

Maybe...

How could she not be angry?

What should I be angry?
I had a wonderful life.

Why not keep going

if it's so wonderful?
-Because that's being greedy,

there's no end to it.

There's no end to what you want.

I'm thankful.
I had a wonderful life,

to this day.

I had a wonderful life.

What else do I need?

What more could one ask for?

More?

It's endless.

Okay, I could've lived
another 30 years.

But okay,
that's not gonna happen.

We could've gone to Broadway
to see your new play coming out.

That could be wonderful.

It doesn't matter in the end.

Really.

What matters is if you feel good about
what you've done up until that moment.

It's great having a granddaughter
and being there when she was born.

I wouldn't give up
those experiences, in retrospect.

But there's no end to things
we want to do.

I want to see her at her Bat Mitzvah,

at her wedding,

why not have a great-granddaughter?
It's...

We discussed earlier

how hard it is
when someone loses a child,

it's really...

That's a horrific topic.
No optimism there.

Yes.

That's why I say,
it'll be much harder for those around me.

Or even now.
Because I won't know.

With regards to the death of Tamar,
Anat's granddaughter,

I was ambivalent,
as if it matters what I was.

On one hand I thought,
thank God Anat isn't alive.

On the other hand,

they really needed her.

But as her friend,
I said to myself,

she was spared...

We know that Tamar died

and we talk to her and write to her,

she just had her birthday,
her Bat Mitzvah, two weeks ago.

And death,
especially the death of a child...

From that moment on,
unless you're...

some super-Indian sadhu

who doesn't eat

and can stand on one toe for a month,

then...

That's how we've started off.

At least for now,
these initial years.

Something dies inside of you.

No doubt about it.

My biggest fear in life

before something worse happened to me
was to lose my mother.

There are many gifts in growing up
with my mom and dad,

who they were, but...

the dark humor definitely

helps to deal with
very tough situations in life.

I do have a feeling of "coming home",

that in death,
you're somehow "coming home".

What does that mean?
I can't tell you.

What do you think
happens after death?

Look,

there are two options.

One, that we'll reveal the big secret.

I relate to death like an adventure.

And I'm truly aspiring
to experience it.

When it happens I don't want to vanish
into a state of panic,

but rather go through this journey,
something must happen at that moment.

The question is,
what happens afterwards.

So there are two options.
One is that...

you discover the secret of life,
I don't know what happens there.

And the other option
is that you don't.

You just go to sleep.

Neither seem like the end of the world.

It was so strange.

My children and I

go looking for a grave for Anat
while she's still alive.

She's alive, yes?
And we're touring cemeteries,

saying, what about here?
No, it's not nice here.

Now they're burying them in those holes
in the wall. Not that.

We show her pictures.
"What do you think?"

We wrote her obituary with her.

She wanted them to write:
"Anat Gov quit smoking."

Me and Gidi refused.
I said, come on, there's a limit.

But I put a cigarette on her grave.

I hope
there's no reincarnation,

I don't want
to start all over again.

Who knows,

I could be born in Sudan or some
other country with a civil war going on

or where girls have to wear burqas.

Ultimately, what's left is
what people remember of you.

Living another year or two
doesn't matter,

from a historical perspective,

it's insignificant. What's significant
is what people remember of you.

This is your last chance
to change your mind.

No thanks.
-Are you sure?

Surer than
I've ever been in my entire life.

Ready?
-And able.

Move your shirt a little.

It's stopped

I don't know how to thank you.

Have a fun life!

That meeting with her
was so significant in my life.

She said to me, Arik, you're going
to die and you need to know that.

And in the subtext,
what she was saying to me,

or maybe it was in the text,

it's not so you'll love death
or want to die,

but to remember that,
so you won't be afraid to live your life

and make your dreams come true.

Thanks to her, I'm a father today.

It's the greatest gift
I've ever given to myself.

Like every Saturday morning,
I made her toast with avocado,

she loved that.

Edna came over,
they spoke for a half hour, said goodbye.

A doctor comes, a medical team.

She couldn't stand when
people said "passed away." Died.

Died.

I'll tell you something
she wrote to me.

She wrote, "Don't hurry.
Keep going, work, have fun,

"have grandkids, but when it's your time
to leave, come along,

"I'll take you for a walk
on the Milky Way."

So death
is something that's not so...

It's a shame to die,
it's really not good,

it's best to feel well.

But...

to start taking vitamins
and all that stuff?

Double masks,
not going here and there and...

I think that through Anat,
we all know that worst case scenario

you die.

That's it.

On this happy note...
-Exactly.

On this very, very happy note,

is that how you'd like people
to come out of your new play?

Your next play?

From my life.
-From your life.

Of course.

When it's sad outside again

And autumn is close to heart -
without you

And I want you
but you're so far away

I don't want to be alone right now

I call out to you,
but you don't answer

You left, you went away

Because without you,
this whole city is empty

And its streets are barren

At a moment of longing

At a moment of silence I'll call you

Come back to town now, to me...