Caryl Churchill's fifteen-minute play Seven Jewish Children filmed by Omri Dayan carries us across continents and a hundred years in seven scenes depicting different Jewish adult families talking about what they should say to a young daughter during a moment of upheaval in their lives, from a 1903 pogrom in Russia to Tel Aviv during a time of conflict in 2009.
There is a haunting rhythm to the language with its repetitive use of the words “tell her” and “don't tell her” that open almost every sentence bar three, which consist of just the three words “don’t frighten her”, a phrase that must have entered the conversations of many Israeli citizens during the country's long persecution of Palestinians.
The conversations are performed by an impressive cast of seven, whose engaging delivery of the language, physical movements and facial expressions give realistic depth to the meaning of the words. Sometimes, the camera shows us a family member's troubled reaction to the words of another speaker, reminding us of the way the events can generate uneasy differences between them.
James Morrell’s gentle, poignant, guitar melody, performed by Caludio Ragazzi, plays us into each scene with the camera pausing over a floor sign that tells us the year and location we will witness as the cast shift to their new positions on the sound stage.
The unsettling first scene opens during the attacks against Jewish people in Kishinev in 1903. A couple in a darkened room with the sound of running feet outside are hiding their daughter. “Tell her not to come out even if she hears shouting.” As they carefully close the false floor that conceals their child, their shocked attention turns to the sound of a harsh double knock on the door.
The next two scenes take us to families who are about to leave their homes in European cities. In 1945, a family in London discuss what to say to a young daughter about relatives who have died. In 1951, a family in Brussels wonder how they will explain their departure. “Don't tell her we're going forever... Don't tell her she doesnt belong here… Tell her about Jerusalem.”
A family in Haifa in 1954, where many Arabs are being forced to leave, are uncertain how they should convey these events to a child. “Tell her this wasn't their home. Don't tell her home, not home, tell her they're going away... don't tell her Arabs used to sleep in her bedroom… Don't tell her they said it was a land without people. Don't tell her I wouldnt have come if I'd known. Tell her maybe we can share.”
If that family have mixed feelings about the continuing displacement of Palestinians, the family of Tel Aviv 1967 have no such reservations. A woman is humming happily. “Tell her we won… Tell her we've got new land. “
A member of the family in an (illegal) Israeli settlement in 2003 says, “don't tell her the trouble about the swimming pool. Tell her it's our water… Don't tell her not to look at the bulldozer. Don't tell her it was knocking the house down... Tell her they want to drive us into the sea… Tell her we're going swimming.”
As they talk, there are often troubled expressions on the faces of the characters, and no more so than in the final scene that takes place in 2009. “Tell her the army has come to our defence. Don't tell her her cousin refused to serve in the army. Don't tell her how many of them have been killed.”
Distraught with tears in her eyes, a young woman delivers a terrifying monologue which includes the following words: “tell her we won't stop killing them till we're safe, … tell her they're animals living in rubble now, tell her I wouldn't care if we wiped them out”. A young man looking emotionally exhausted and uncomfortable at what is being said turns and begins to walk away. The grandmother, sitting uneasily on the sofa, cautions the angry woman with the words we have heard before in the play: "don't frighten her…"
The characters are treated throughout the performance with sensitivity and compassion, but there is no missing the play’s concern for the Palestinian victims of Israel’s history, though Palestine and Israel are never mentioned.
That concern generated outrage from some Israeli supporters when the play was first performed at the Royal Court Theatre in 2009. However, not only was the play well regarded, but it gave heart to many of those trying to break the silence on the terrible suffering in Palestine. This stunning film adaptation of an important play should be seen by everyone.
The script minus the information about where each scene takes place and which character speaks the words has been available to read and free to download since 2009 on The Guardian's web site.
The film's official opening will take place at The Prince Charles Cinema in Leicester Square on 31 March as a fundraiser via donations on the night for Medical Aid for Palestinians. It will then be followed by screenings in other venues and, on 1 April 2025, will be released on YouTube.