Israel vs. Iran on the Judo Mat
A new film about rival female judokas, one from Israel and one from Iran, by an Israeli director

Courtesy XYZ Films/Juda Khatia Psuturi
Courtesy XYZ Films/Juda Khatia Psuturi
Courtesy XYZ Films/Juda Khatia Psuturi
An early scene in the sports drama-thriller Tatami brings together protagonist Leila Hosseini (Arienne Mandi), an Iranian judoka, and her potential Israeli rival Shani Lavie (Lir Katz). They meet just before they are about to start competing at the World Judo Championship held in Georgia, where they will very likely face each other in an upcoming match. However, the film makes it clear that despite their professional rivalry and the conflict between their countries, they hold no personal grudges against each other.
Their conversation is friendly, but it also highlights the difference between the two characters. Lavie struggles to find the balance between her professional and personal life, having recently broken up with her boyfriend over her busy practice schedule. Hosseini, on the other hand, has obviously found this balance in her life: She is married to a loving husband (Ash Goldeh) who takes upon himself most of the responsibilities in raising their child so that she can focus on her judo career. The conversation also reveals deeper differences between them: Lavie is still in her self-searching phase, probably (though the film does not explicitly state this) after her mandatory IDF service, trying to figure out what path to take. Hosseini, as seen throughout the film, has found her path: She came to win, and she is not going to let anything stand in her way.
Lavie’s character is barely seen through the rest of the film; the story is not about her. But the early scene of her meeting with Hosseini’s character makes it clear that the film is every bit about Israel as it is about Iran—which is quite appropriate given that it was co-directed by Israeli filmmaker Guy Nativ and Iranian actress and director Zar Amir Ebrahimi, who also plays the role of Hosseini’s coach, Maryam Ghanbari.
In terms of plot and style, Tatami plays like a first-league work in both its genres. The judo matches are loaded with raw, brutal energy: Restless camerawork and editing make the audience feel every punch, kick, and fall, all accompanied by excited narration from unseen sports reporters that boost the drama. Those who follow real-life judo matches (as many Israelis do, given the achievements of Israeli contestants in the field) will perhaps find it all a bit too dramatic, feeling more like something out of a martial arts film than a real judo match. But what Tatami loses in realism in its portrayal of judo fights, it wins back through its impressive black-and-white photography that gives its sports segments in the film a rough, documentarylike feeling.
As the plot progresses, the film slowly turns from a sports drama into a nail-biting thriller: Fearing that Hosseini’s victory streak will eventually bring her to face Lavie, the Iranian government orders Ghanbari to pull Hosseini out of the championship, which Hosseini refuses to do. Pressure quickly increases: The Iranian security forces have no qualms about taking violent actions against Ghanbari or Hosseini—either through their families in Iran or toward them directly with representatives of the regime sent to watch them during the championship and make sure they will not stray from the path dictated to them. Taking place in real time, following the schedule of the championship, Tatami turns Hosseini’s struggle into a desperate affair as her options run out. Here, too, the film’s black-and-white photography serves it well, providing it with a threatening noirlike aesthetic that makes it feel as though the narrow corridors of the stadium in which the championship is held literally suffocate the protagonists.
Courtesy XYZ Films
Once Tatami switches to thriller mode, it keeps its audience on the edges of their seats, all the way to the ending, although a few redundant flashbacks and scenes taking place in Iran during the competition somewhat distract from the film’s otherwise near-perfect pacing. The film’s two lead actresses also deliver a strong sense of urgency. Mandi, in what I truly hope will be a star-making role (watch for her in the upcoming second season of Netflix’s The Night Agent) is excellent as the strong-headed judoka, eager to prove that she is at her top form. In contrast, Ebrahimi delivers a highly nuanced performance as the coach who really wants Hosseini to win, but also has a deeper understanding of the political implications involved in this kind of victory, realizing that it’s about a lot more than just sports. Both actresses superbly portray that change in the relationship between the two characters during the film’s 105-minute runtime—from supporting friendship to bitter animosity.
Ebrahimi, an Iranian actress living in exile after being persecuted in her country, has obviously brought a lot of her own personal experiences into Tatami as both actress and co-director. As both an actress and director, she brings another element into the film, her experience adding another layer to the relationship between Hosseini and Ghanbari. That relationship goes beyond a mere friendship between a young ambitious woman and an older, wiser woman who serves as both her trainer and a confidant. Tatami is also about the relationship between an idealist, and an older woman who gave up on her ideals.
At the beginning of the film, Hosseini is proud to represent Iran. Yes, she is involved with the illegal underground party scene, but she also loves her country—perhaps even believing that her achievements in the championship will push her country in a different direction. Ghanbari, on the other hand, has given up on her ideals, and probably also her patriotism, long before the beginning of the story. Yet for this precise reason, she tries to persuade Hosseini to follow the directives given by the Iranian authorities and drop out of the competition: It may hurt Hosseini’s pride, her professional status and her love for her country, but it will make her life comfortable and safe. The crashing of Hosseini’s ideals, and the manner in which Ghanbari admits her own broken ideals, prove destructive for both characters.
But what did an Israeli director bring into this aspect of the film? Those who follow Guy Nativ’s career know that intolerance is a recurring theme in his work. He has explored it in Israel (in his brilliant debut short Strangers, co-directed with Erez Tadmor), North America (in his Academy Award-winning short film Skin and the later feature-length film of the same title), and now in Iran with Tatami.
Yet Tatami is not about Iranian intolerance, or at least not exclusively about it. Over the past two years, Israel has seen many public protests—first over the attempt at legal reform, and now over the demand to free the hostages in Gaza—and protesters had to insist they are motivated by their love for their country. In this sense, as an Israeli watching Tatami, I could not help but wonder if the film’s Iranian judoka story is actually meant to be a twisted mirror image of an Israeli story (appropriately, mirrors play a vital role in the plot of Tatami). Like Lavie, the Israeli judoka seen at the beginning of the film, Israeli protesters—and their political rivals as well—are free to express themselves. But as Nativ reminds his Israeli audience, freedom cannot be taken for granted.
Raz Greenberg, an animation researcher, is the author of Hayao Miyazaki: Exploring the Early Work of Japan’s Greatest Animator.