Sweet Mud

Israeli Dror Shaul’s Sweet Mud, set in Bet-Gvurot kibbutz in the mid-’70s, is, importantly, only half-idyllic. And this half pertains exclusively to the land on which Bet-Gvurot is settled—a remarkably neutral, languorous presence in the film—not, as one might assume, to its well-meaning but ultimately stifling resident society. In effect, Sweet Mud, winner of the world cinema jury prize at this year’s Sundance Festival, could be about a cult. Dvir (Tomer Steinhof) lives in separate children’s quarters, occasionally visiting his young, widowed mother, Miri (Ronit Yukdevitz), whose fragile mental health is the direct result of the punitive mindset of fellow kibbutzniks, including her own toxic mother. Shaul’s dystopianism certainly has its place—his political commentary is valid and, in most respects, devoid of ethno-religious censure. But Sweet Mud is most commendable for its beautiful, narratively discrete sequences, undoubtedly informed by the best directors of coming-of-age reverie: François Truffaut, Satyajit Ray, Victor Erice and Terrence Malick. The latter’s painterly digressions in Days of Heaven are especially relevant (the burnished fields and rolling grass of the shifting seasons are vital to Shaul’s themes); indeed, like Malick, Shaul botches his ending a bit, if only because plot, next to the affecting mood he’s set up, seems like such a vulgar, pat intrusion. SEE IT NOW

Sweet Mud is now playing at the Grande (4861 Yonge St.).