“A simple drama that contains moments of astonishing beauty, while also being undercut by a few tonal irregularities.”

At some point every child has the startling realisation that their parents are not perfect people, and even if they may not be flawed enough to lose our admiration, it can be a challenge to come to terms with the fact that they are intrinsically human and far from faultless. Moshe Rosenthal uses this as the starting point for Tell Me Everything, his second directorial effort, in which we are transported back to the 1980s and introduced to Boaz, a quiet and reserved twelve-year-old who seems to have a relatively pleasant life surrounded by a loving and eccentric family, all of whom are helping him prepare for his upcoming Bar Mitzvah. However, he comes to realise that his curiosity occasionally brings unneeded encounters with the truth after he accidentally discovers that his father is anonymously engaging in extramarital affairs with men behind his family’s back. Initially holding onto this information, Boaz cannot help but eventually reveal the truth (especially as the HIV crisis has begun to reach a horrifying apex around this time), which sets off a series of events that divide the family and implant a sense of unresolved hatred in the protagonist that he carries with him all the way to adulthood.  A simple drama that contains moments of astonishing beauty, while also being undercut by a few tonal irregularities, Tell Me Everything is nonetheless a film that tackles important subject matter, exploring a particular moment in time through the eyes of a young, impressionable protagonist simply trying to make sense of the world that surrounds him.

Every family has their secrets, and one of the challenges that come with growing up is discovering the cracks that exist just beneath what appears to be a perfect domestic existence. Seeing the façade of perfection slowly fade away into something far from ideal can be emotionally demanding, but it is part of the journey one must take. Tell Me Everything is primarily constructed as a coming-of-age story, following Boaz in two distinct periods of his life – one as a pre-teen, when he is old enough to recognise the faults in his seemingly model life but too young to be equipped to process them; and then as a young adult, slightly older but far more jaded, having carried the anger that was instilled during those formative years. Weighed down by an unsettled rage that prevents him from ever truly embracing life, the film presents a portrait of a young man who struggles to resolve his inner conflict, which becomes the stage for a portrait of a family living through the last few years of the 20^th century, when life was rapidly changing, made worse by the secrets concealed beneath the surface.  The film ponders whether forgiveness is actually possible, or even wise: should a single devastating act of misguided indiscretion be the impetus for years of anger, or can it ever truly be overcome? Reflecting the challenges that were faced by many families, especially during the HIV crisis, the film explores the experiences of someone who has struggled to make sense of a hostile world, setting out to exact revenge, but finding forgiveness a far more appropriate response once he takes the time to look beyond his own prejudices.

Based on this premise, it’s clear that Tell Me Everything is working with some heavy themes, since not only is it a story of a family gradually becoming fractured after the revelation of the husband’s infidelity, but it also addresses subjects such as the HIV epidemic and homophobia. None of these are particularly easy concepts to explore without being heavy-handed, and the film does struggle to find the right tone in some moments. However, it is salvaged by the two actors playing Boaz, with Yair Mazor (whose performance is quite impressive despite being a newcomer) and Ido Tako playing the character as a pre-teen and young adult, respectively. It’s a character-based film, and they manage to find the nuances beneath the surface, even when the film feels somewhat aimless at certain points. The moments where it strikes a chord are powerful, whereas those that lean slightly too heavily into the melodrama don’t resound with quite as much sincerity. The emotions can sometimes become unwieldy, which is where the director’s relatively limited experience (as this is only his second directorial outing) begins to show. However, none of this is enough to derail the film entirely, since its ability to be genuinely moving when it hits its stride does prove to be worth our time, even though the overall experience could have been improved with a steadier command of the emotions when handling these difficult themes.

Tell Me Everything is a simple film that initially promises to be a quiet domestic drama about a young man coming of age during a tumultuous era, made even more challenging by the circumstances that lead to his parents’ separation and the residual anger he carries around as a result. However, as it progresses, we see it become slightly deeper and more profound as a character study, evolving into a pensive portrait of someone who has allowed himself to be so consumed by the emotions he felt in childhood that he is now incapable of leading a normal, peaceful life. The message communicated by the film is clear: every family has their secrets, which will either remain concealed indefinitely or be revealed and subsequently change the course of these relationships. Making use of a varied emotional inventory (which involves sometimes putting different emotions in conflict with one another to reflect the confusion and disorientation felt by the protagonist) and filtering it through some very strong performances that remedy the more overwrought narrative, the film is a poignant exploration of someone who stands on the edge of collapse, while only through confronting his own internal biases can he be truly liberated from an uncomfortable past. A relatively straightforward drama that tackles enormous themes with appropriate grace and sincerity, Tell Me Everything does prove to be mostly effective, even when a more subtle approach in a few key moments could have made its message even clearer and more authentic.