Today is Saturday, October 12, 2024. I’m back from my 25-plus-hour fast that began around 4:45 on Friday afternoon and ended about 6:30 tonight. I have to say that it was rather problem free for me this year, as it’s been ever since I hit my late middle age. When I was first married, I recall having to go through a period of caffeine withdrawal which saw me drink decaffeinated coffee a few days before starting the fast on Yom Kippur eve. But lately, I can go cold turkey; I can have several cups of coffee the day before and I can then just stop it on the Day of Atonement. So I had a very nice day, waking up past 10:30 and eventually taking a walk later through Forest Hills Gardens, where I sat on a bench outside the Church in the Gardens where I read my gay men’s reading club selection, The Lookback Window by Kyle Dillon Hertz. I was so rapt in the book that I read 80 pages in one fast clip.

The previous day, on Friday, I took the subway to West 34th Street on the E to walk to the Jacob Javits Center to take part in the Kol Nidre service scheduled to begin at 6. Elliot bowed out and stayed home. The service lasted for more than three hours; I was very interested in seeing the new rabbi, Jason Klein, who took over the mantle from Rabbi Sharon Kleinbaum who retired after serving 32 years as the synagogue’s rabbi. Even though I’ve not been a member of this groundbreaking institution, I knew about Kleinbaum’s outsized influence over the gay community at large because of her unwavering commitment to social causes and her considerable activism. So when it came time for Rabbi Klein to give his Yom Kippur drash, I think everyone leaned in to listen. Of course, this wasn’t the first time he spoke (I think he took over sometime in July), but for me, it was. I watched him on the two TV screens put up for everyone in the rear seats to see the cantor and the rabbi up close. The rabbi, a little portly with a beard, delivered a long, rambling sermon that went in many directions. All in all, I could not compare him to the more dynamic style of the outgoing rabbi who always had some humor incorporated in her addresses; here Klein did not. Also, I noticed many congregants were walking out as he delivered his sermon. I don’t recall this happening when Kleinbaum delivered hers over the holidays.

Anyway, I made it through another year of fasting and solitude. I had my first morsel of food around 6:30 in which I had bagels and lox for dinner. Then I had my first cup of coffee since yesterday and had a piece of the honey cake that Elliot baked Friday. It was good, but not as good as the honey cake we baked over a week ago.

It’s getting late here, owing to Elliot and my watching a very good movie on Netflix called His Three Daughters. This film, released in 2023, was a movie I wanted to see on the outside, but I soon learned it was coming to Netflix, so I decided to wait to see it on television instead. The film is not for everyone: for the most part, it takes place in one New York City apartment as three disparate sisters get together to stand vigil over their dying father. The daughters are Katie (Carrie Coon), Rachel (Natasha Lyonne), and Christina (Elizabeth Olsen). They gather in Rachel’s apartment to wait while their father is dying in the bedroom (we don’t actually see the father until the final moments of the film).

In this pressure-cooker environment, the three sisters tussle with one another over their roles in their father’s life and who was truly the caregiver all those years when he was first diagnosed with cancer. The conflict results when Katie, who is the oldest, picks fights with the youngest, Rachel, who is an inveterate pot head and smokes weed in the apartment. This ticks off Katie who asks that she go out and smoke. It’s Rachel who is the family bohemian and has been living with her father for years, even taking care of him in his decline. Rachel doesn’t appear to have a real job and frequently lets off steam with a joint or two, both life choices that infuriates Katie.

Christina (Elizabeth Olsen) has a husband and a young daughter back in Ohio. She’s the mediator between her two combative sisters, and she appears painfully insecure and shies away from argument and controversy. To Rachel, she appears to have the perfect life. But Christina eventually disabuses Rachel of that feeling later on.

The film has the aspect of a staged play, with very little outside scenes, except for Rachel smoking a joint outside on a bench and her going to a neighborhood convenience store for some items . Most of the film is brutally realistic, with some scenes involving a Do Not Resuscitate form that was needed to be signed by the father before he expires. It was Rachel who was supposed to have this signed before the sisters got together to stay in the apartment, and she didn’t do this. Another thing to be angry with Rachel about.

All three actors give excellent performances, especially Carrie Coon as the eldest daughter who is dealing with a rebellious teenager back home in Brooklyn. Olsen is very good as the middle sister who doesn’t want conflict as her father is dying in the bedroom.

In the final moment, we finally witness the dying father (Jay O. Sanders) who makes a strong, short appearance who sort of gives his own epitaph before he dies in a favored recliner. This scene could be viewed as out of place with the rest of the film which is very realistic about what happens to the living after a loved one dies.

Again, this is not a film for everyone since the action is confined to a New York apartment and nowhere else. The joy is watching the three actors interact with one another. The dialogue is tight and bristling. The film is written and directed by Azazel Jacobs.

Have a good Sunday.

And so it went!