Transmitzvah 2024 Movie Review
Daniel Burman’s “Transmitzvah” (2024) centers on a trans story of reclamation and ownership. There are all sorts of deferred realizations. One character may move towards an understanding of what they want but not without encountering pain and hardship. Life throws all kinds of curveballs. But the fortitude the protagonist of the film displays is sufficient to weather any storm, no matter how rough and brutal. The film recognizes the no-nonsense attitude admirably but trips in fleshing out a well-rounded dimensionality. Many scenes leave you sorely wanting a thrust, a complexity to the decisions the protagonist rushes towards.
The Jewish coming-of-age ritual, when the child turns 13, is deliciously queered in the film. The film opens with a disruptive promise. It’s unfurled with delightful stealth that does elicit a due share of praise. But the trouble with the film is exactly that. It doles out a string of promises without ever caring to follow up on any. Most are left casually by the wayside. There’s no thought or attention devoted. Everything happens almost arbitrarily, accidentally. Design and plot points are missing though there are efforts made to amp up a defined narrative engine. It’s like certain key pieces of the puzzle are remiss not by virtue of ambiguity proposed but on account of complete incompetence, a lack of imagination in advancing the film in a strong, cohesive direction.
At 13, Ruben is all set to have his bar mitzvah. Everyone has assembled. It is an occasion of good cheer. However, Ruben upsets all expectations and shocks when he announces his desire to be known as Mumy Singer. That their son is trans doesn’t sit well with Mumy’s father. Unsurprisingly, Mumy chooses to remove herself entirely from the family, keeping in touch with her brother Eduardo.
Mumy leads a flamboyant life. She’s successful, unapologetic, and full of brio and ferocity. She doesn’t see her trans identity as a stumbling block. She cuts people down to size the minute they demean or condescend to her. You can see why she projects this air of invincibility. It’s an emotional guard for her own peace of mind. She won’t stand any rude interruption. But a major break comes when she’s called home for her severely ailing father who wants to see her. With his death, she also loses her voice as a singer. She struggles to retrieve it but cannot.
A sliver of a solution presents itself. Well, at least that’s how Mumy perceives it. She believes if she, or rather Ruben could have the bar mitzvah he never got, the singing voice may return miraculously. Of course, It’s a tad foolish and the film never quite lands this sudden explosion of belief with persuasion. It strikes rough notes.
At the synagogue, expectedly there’s resistance. Mumy has lost all rights to the community, the rabbi declares vigorously. She can’t find her way back even if she now seeks it. In fact, she must accept this and move on. But Mumy is no one to settle for less. Eduardo points her to a suggestion their father may have hinted at. Maybe, by contrived speculation, on reaching Toledo and meeting a particular rabbi who can integrate anyone back into a sphere of community, she too can find her purpose.
At Toledo, there’s a whole metaphysical, trippy track. Eduardo hopes he can gather conviction and spirit for his impending divorce through the trip. On the pitstop, an unexpected one for her, to the rabbi, she is asked to sing for a couple whose wedding has fetched no guests due to the remoteness of the location. As Eduardo starts singing, she too joins in. A heavy-handed semblance of Biblical incidents follows soon after. A boy appears and unlocks all her talent. Moreover, a group of women in white appear out of nowhere. The film becomes fuzzier and abstract, blurring into the elevated. Mumy finds her grip back on her voice. Everything resettles into the shape of normalcy and happiness.
Daniel Burman’s film is fumbled by a lack of direction. It’s terribly unfocused, meandering as hell, and utterly lacking in a sustained understanding of perspective. Characters hop across settings. There are flashes of revelations but none land with force and weight. The overarching realization is dampened by a paucity of well-considered buildup. Mumy makes a long journey, reckoning with her growth and sense of the world. Yes, the world is harsh and pitiless but she will have no pity. Mumy has solid steel and an unflappable style. It’s an admirable prototype but it never exceeds that. Where’s the vulnerability and loss?
The screenplay by Burman and Ariel Gurevich strives to make Mumy an unshakably strong individual. She has a firm idea of her place in the world and is supremely confident. Penelope Guerrero brings the sharp-spined woman into vivid focus. But the screenplay gives her little shade and texture to play with. The musical numbers are as colorless, generic, and soulless as one can come up with. Characters almost end up farcical quite unintentionally.
Eduardo’s only trait is his uncertainties over his impending divorce. He can’t at all come to terms with it. He pins hopes on his sister and their journey together to offer him clarity and resolution. This journey is singularly dull, devoid of any remarkable character. What especially stunts the film is the detailing of the family. It feels mostly planted, random conflicts thrown in and the mother-daughter track nearly always forgotten only to be hurled up as if at a bored whim.
The anger, the grief, bereavement, and bumbling dilemmas – nothing strongly registers. Hence the film never makes a dent either emotionally or logically. Even the conceit of the trip comes off as manufactured and implausible. “Transmitzvah” collapses in justifying any shred of its existence. Such films leave you genuinely perplexed why any fuss was made to mount it when a surfeit of scenes drag on inexcusably and bluntly. The growth of the individual achieves no iota of power, strength, and affirmation.
