Three seasons of an Israeli family drama called “Shtisel” have captivated Jewish and Arab viewers. The series has drawn binge watchers throughout the Middle East, U.S. and Europe in the past few years and charmed and captivated them equally. The reason: the common humanity and terrific allure of the personalities brought to life on the film stage.

“I have dreams, Mama,” is the mantra of the show, in tension with religious traditions the characters feel are holding them back. 

“Shtisel”, picked up by Netflix, has aired in the U.S. for three seasons, since 2018. It’s a family drama imported from Israel, launched in 2013,  and totaling 21 episodes. The American audience went unexpectedly wild about it, as viewers of all backgrounds identified with the dilemmas of a Haredi, ultra-Orthodox son (Michael Aloni) navigating his relationship with his father (Dov Glickman) and the demands of young adulthood: succeeding in love and work. Jerusalem-based Akiva goes through a succession of women and jobs until he finds his true self, much as an American secular adolescent or post-adolescent.

Akiva is a 23-year-old charming rabbi living with his widowed father Shulem Shtisel. His first dating foray has him falling for a twice-widowed mother of one of his yeshiva students, while the dad is also dating various women looking for a “match.” The son wants to be an artist and is a fairly good painter, but Dad wants him to have a serious, paying job so he employs him as a yeshiva teacher.

The widow that he meets, mother of a 12-year-old yeshiva student, is much older than she looks in her sheitel (wig). She reveals her graying hair underneath and has no intention of having a young, growing family , so it’s on to the next woman. He marries his cousin, she dies, and at the end of the third season is involved with the head of an art trust. He is so lovable that the audience keeps rooting for “Kiva” (nickname) to succeed, and he does, nurturing a baby left by the dying wife, selling his paintings in premier galleries and getting a good price.

“Shtisel” is compelling because it addresses the primary needs of all audiences, and is almost an Israeli “All in the Family” without the bigotry. It’s a soap opera-like tear-jerker at times. It shows an inside portrait of how the ultra-Orthodox live in an almost closed society that still mirrors the outside world. Boy meets girl, boy loses girl. Tragedy and death claim a young mother. A “frum” (Orthodox) man leaves his wife (“Giti  Weiss”- Neta Riskin) for a dalliance in the outside world on another continent and they eventually reconcile. During the period of estrangement, Giti supports herself as a sole breadwinner and comes into her own later as a successful restaurant owner. Her daughter (Ruchama Weiss played by Shira Haas) marries a starving yeshiva student and struggles to bear a child (a social requirement). In the end, she is successful. 

The same actress, Shira Haas, is also the star of another Netflix series about the Orthodox Jewish world called “Unorthodox.” This show also has gained popularity during the shut-in period of the pandemic.   In the second series, Shira Haas plays “Esther Shapiro” or “Esty,” a strong woman who leaves her community in Brooklyn to join the arts community in Berlin and flee the strict social structures around her. She resents that the community only values her as a potential baby-maker and wife, rather than as an individual. She does an outstanding acting job in both series.

In “Unorthodox”, Esty’s husband comes after her in Berlin with a thug-buddy sent by the rabbi, but she prevails, and although now pregnant, will not come home. The duo say they “will be back for the baby,” and it turns out that at the tender age of 3, Etsy was taken from her mother, who also fled the Orthodox community.  Esty was raised by her father and his relatives in Brooklyn, while the mother (Leah Mandelbaum) escaped to Berlin.

The series is loosely based on a 2012 autobiographical novel by Deborah Feldman, who plays a small role in the adaptation beautifully created by a German filmmaker and crew, distributed by Netflix.

Esty is seen as a post-feminist heroine, and she, too, has plenty of U.S. fans, all rooting for her to succeed on her own. However, the series shows a far-less charming portrait of the ultra-religious, dwelling on the demands of any closed society, controlling adherents to maintain the social structure. It could just as likely be cast as an Amish family today, as well as a Jewish family.  It looks at the nature of community and the sacrifices that membership entails, as well as the joys and collectivity.

Both series are immensely popular due to their universal themes. Religious communities do command a certain degree of conformity to maintain their borders and control, and determine who is “inside the fold” or outside.  Academic studies on “in groups” and “out groups” (such as those by Henri Tajfel) focus on in-group favoritism and defining the borders, whether in a religious or ethnic community by who is “outside the Pale”  (the original Jewish area of Poland and Russia in the 17th to 19th centuries) . The phrase has drifting into the English language to signify outside community borders.

Without casting judgment, and this is not the writer’s aim, both series are true-to-life.

A woman wanting a professional singing career in the Ultra-Orthodox world that Esty, the main character comes from, would not be accepted because there is a stricture that men should not hear women’s voices. They could be charmed and enticed outside the marriage, they believe. Thus, women would have to sing together in a single-sex room to be allowed to sing. In services, the women and men are separated by a balcony or alternate sides of the room, to prevent mingling and allow only men to sing and be called to the altar. This is not true in more liberal Jewish denominations, such as Reform and Conservative, which are more egalitarian.  

It’s the ultra-religious world that Esty is rejecting when she flees to Berlin, where, coincidentally, her mother is living in a relationship with a woman. All the contemporary themes of modern life are handled in the series, so again, anyone worldwide from any background can identify, which is why it has garnered such a large audience.

“Shtisel” characters are loved by the audience for the diversity they bring on the screen. You don’t have to be Jewish to love it. It’s seen as another slice-of-life drama, with all the family hassles and joys you see everywhere. “Unorthodox” is definitely a bit of a women’s movie. It’s a bit heavier but it needs to be to accomplish its aims. Both mini-series have won many awards (Golden Globe, Emmy, Independent Spirit) and continue to entice customers. 

However, “Shtisel” is more positive about religious Judaism, while “Unorthodox” is more negative, showing it with few redeeming features. It’s easier to laugh and feel uplifted by Reb Shtisel who knows his place in the world and content with it, than Esty and her mother who are still in crisis. Akiva Shtisel has crises—it’s almost a coming-of-age work—but the audience finds them almost charming, while “Unorthodox” keeps us on the edge of our seat. It’s tough to feel charmed at some very serious and heart-wrenching dilemmas.

Ultimately, both series show the very human side of life in the Middle East apart from the incredibly tense political times experienced there. They show that characters around the world, in Jewish and Arab communities, have the same family dramas and themes of uplifting themselves. It’s something to keep in mind in these difficult times.

Myna German, PhD,  is the author of four books and a Mass Communications Professor at Delaware State University, Dover DE. Her field is Religion, Media and Culture, with an emphasis on Myth and Meaning.