“Holding Liat” carves out a unique place in the documentary world through its unflinching, intimate direction. The film follows the family of Liat Beinin Atzili as they wait for news after she is taken hostage from Kibbutz Nir Oz during the Oct. 7 attacks in Israel. Rather than focusing on dramatic developments, the camera lingers on the everyday moments: sweeping the floor, playing solitaire, and doing needlepoint. The news is constantly on, sometimes as background noise and sometimes as a focal point. In these quiet scenes, the film captures the exhausting limbo of waiting for answers, the painstaking patience of being at the mercy of someone else. Even through international travel, gala speaking engagements, or congressional speeches, the scenes focus on the in-between. The family hugs, the anxiety-ridden car rides, the tense debriefs. The camera becomes a secondary character, closely observing Yehuda, Chaya, Tal, Netta, and eventually Liat as they navigate the emotional turmoil of not knowing whether their loved one is alive or coming home. The documentary mode, colloquially known as “Fly on the Wall”, makes the audience a quiet observer to all the happenings of the family. They do not interfere with or manufacture any moments on screen; they unfold naturally.

The audience learns about Liat by first seeing Chaya, her mother, and Yehuda, her father, examining the damage to her house in Kibbutz Nir Oz. The parents are in darkness and illuminated by the light of their phones, inspecting the soot-stained walls and tracing over the structure that used to be a warm home. Tenderly, the parents take a pair of glasses for Liat to have when she comes home. The simplicity is what makes the moment striking. This documentary mode is meant to increase the filmmaker’s objectivity, and “Holding Liat” shows us how being objective does not mean neglecting emotion. The film’s superpower is the emotional closeness it provides the audience. The camera’s omniscient presence allows the emotional weight to rest over the film organically. The emotional stake we have in the film deepens the narrative while aiding in building a connection to the subjects. We notice what the family is feeling and are privy to the fights, the tears, the fear, and the impatience of wanting answers that is tense in the air. Even with the camera being a watchful observer, it is not at a physical distance. The audience is physically close to the family as well, and we are not spared any heartache that physical or emotional distance would grant us.

The lack of emotional distance shows us firsthand the layered political beliefs of the family. Yehuda, Chaya, Tal and Netta’s family unit are representative of the political microcosm within Jewish families and communities since Oct. 7. The slice-of-life structure of the film connects the audience with the family on an emotional level and the audience feels the family’s hope, fear, and desire to get Liat back. There is a vested interest and unspoken trust in the family so the different political views within the family are nuanced, sometimes subtle and painfully complicated yet very human. Yehuda is very vocal with his disdain of being a political pawn to push a completely uncritical, pro-Israel stance, and believes the best way to advocate for the hostages is to pave a path of reconciliation with Palestinians.

One of the most striking moments was when he stated that groups chanting “Am Yisrael Chai” were spewing “propaganda”. Netta, Liat’s youngest son, who was in the youth quarter of the Kibbutz when the attack happened, voiced a different internal struggle. Netta raises the point on how it is hard to discern who is innocent and who is guilty, making peace a difficult task in the midst of such anguish. Tal, Liat’s sister and a resident of Portland, made it clear to her father that they had to play the political game in order to get Liat back home, even if she didn’t want to align herself with the politicians they were meeting. Every thought, opposition, and political critique from the family is shown in a way that fully paints the picture of a family grappling with grief and an uncertain future.

By being immersed in the family’s daily life, “Holding Liat” gives viewers access to the raw emotions that accompany uncertainty- fear, anger, exhaustion and hope. The audience bears witness to this full range of emotions and the strain it puts on the family. The tension rarely explodes; instead, it poignantly lingers in the air. The differing political thoughts and critiques give a rare sense of nuance to issues usually oversimplified by slogans. Shedding light on these varying perspectives within the Jewish community creates a sense of understanding rather than adding to the undercurrent of animosity and division within the political landscape.

That understanding resonated and engaged the audience at the film’s sold-out screening at Cinema 21. Producer Lance Kramer described the screening as something of a “homecoming,” given the family’s ties to the city. The beauty of this film is that it can make anywhere feel like home. The familial warmth of parents, siblings, and children uniting, arguing, hoping, and holding onto one another makes sure humanity is at the forefront of any political discussion that is intertwined within the film.

A recent summa cum laude graduate from the University of Colorado, Boulder Film School, Leah Abrahamsson is passionate about all things Jewish, film and animals. Her first published piece, “Punching Nazis” is available on the CU honors website. Find her on Instagram.