Of the seven and a half billion people on the planet, only the most minute fraction of beings have the musical talents of Itzhak Perlman. A world-class violinist, he’s performed with the most prestigious orchestras in the world, collected over a dozen Grammys, and made some of the most beautiful recordings of just about any classical giant you can name. Now in his 70s, he still continues to dazzle and delight, just as he did as a young boy infatuated with the sound of the violin.
It’s remarkable, then, that his character is not less than his exceptional powers. Immensely warm and subtly humorous, unassuming and open, exceedingly generous with his time and energy…. the list could go on. He embodies sets of traits that rarely are seen together: unsurpassed virtuosity and a modest, down-to-earth demeanor.
If that all sounds too good to be true, watch Alison Chernik’s beautifully made film Itzhak. In this intimate and absorbing documentary, we follow the upbeat and often self-effacing violinist as he prepares for concerts, interacts with friends and family in Tel Aviv and New York, and reciprocates through teaching the invaluable joys of music making that he discovered at an incredibly young age.
Those who are already familiar with Itzhak’s life and work may find some segments of the film less interesting than others; he has been profiled many times before, including in documentary format, not least in Christopher Nupen’s substantial Itzhak Perlman – Virtuoso Violinist.
But Chernik’s film is lively, atmospheric, and far more recent — and it captures so well the amazing, one-of-a-kind spirit of the artist. There’s not a scene in this film that doesn’t glow with warmth as we see Itzhak with musicians, his children and grandchildren, wife, and young music students.
One knock on the film, though, is that it doesn’t offer as full a picture of the artist as it could have. To be sure, the Israeli-born musician — who was struck by the cruelties of polio at age 4 — does speak here and there in the film about how the disease has (and has not) influenced his life. He also briefly discusses the somewhat difficult period when he and his mother came to America so that he could develop at Julliard.
But much more often than not, the film presents us with same kind of scene: an ebullient Izthak interacting with whomever, as smiles, humor, and warmth permeate the viewer’s screen. Is that a bad thing? On the whole, absolutely not. The man has a charisma and genuine warmth that is a true pleasure to watch — especially in the scenes with his wife, and the way he interacts with young students who are eager to soak in the brilliance of one of the world’s greatest violinists.
That said, it does get slightly tedious. Had Chernick been a little more diverse in her scenes, and also added more of Itzhak cogitating on whatever subject or area of his life, it would have given the film more roundness, more depth.
As it is though, it’s still terrific. And probably — without having to surmise too much — this film was meant not as a deep dive into the artist’s life, but as an ode to the powers of music and love. Fair enough.
Spectatio 