Street Shadows

What hasn't the "Neve Sha'anan" pedestrian mall in Tel Aviv been through? It feels like a street that has been abused. The journey along this short street, which is rich in history and human experiences, brings out the sights and sounds of the courtyards and passages, the shops and residences. It's a mosaic of characters creating a different, new reality—sometimes surreal—of a place that has charm, but not always grace and mercy. Once, back in the 1960s and 1970s, it was a vibrant and lively street where thousands of people passed through.

David, the director, then a child and teenager growing up in Petah Tikva, located just east of Tel Aviv- like many of his generation, would visit with his grandmother for leisure and shopping, even if it meant skipping a day of school. Back then, the local metal workshop owner would host the beloved Greek-Israeli singer Tryfonas on Friday afternoons, and local merchants loved to boast about it being Israel’s "Champs-Élysées."

Meanwhile, most of the old shoe shops have been replaced by Eritrean restaurants and hair-braiding salons. At the end of the day, when the Egyptian fishmonger closes his shop and returns home to his Filipino wife, the evening is just beginning in the old dance club in the building's basement.

David, the film's director, returns to Neve Sha'anan 50 years later to listen, just as his grandmother used to, to the stories of the street's residents. But a lot has changed since then: the old-timers are abandoning it. Those who stayed do so out of lack of choice. Today's street dwellers are lost youths, torn from their families, immigrants, migrant workers, and asylum seekers searching for a way to survive. But nostalgia isn't important for its own sake; it raises a question, a thought, and an insight: Has something truly gone wrong since then, or has the street actually remained what it has always been—a stronghold for refugees, for people who live without a present, leaving them with only the choice to either fantasize about a successful future or dwell on a glorious past? Even the street's elders, who are ashamed of what the pedestrian mall has become, were once refugees themselves who arrived in Neve Sha'anan hoping to build a better future.

The film, titled in English "Street Shadows", sets out to investigate who planned the street, when, and why, and who gave it its name. The architect's son, Joseph Tischler, shares that his father was commissioned to design the Neve Sha'anan neighborhood for Jewish refugees who fled Jaffa following the 1921 riots (known as the Tarpat riots). Architect Israel David Gudovitch adds his insight into Tischler’s "Menorah" master plan—designed so that the neighborhood would look from above like what later became the Israeli state emblem, but concludes by saying that all the grand plans to turn the street into Israel’s "Champs-Élysées" failed, and today it is "neither a street nor shoes" (lo rehov velo na'alayim), thus giving the film its Hebrew title. Ever since Jewish refugees arrived here from Jaffa, waves upon waves of immigrants and refugees have arrived, left, and gone: Holocaust survivors, Jews fleeing Iran, migrant workers from Romania and Moldova, laborers from China and the Philippines, and in recent years, African refugees from Sudan and Eritrea.

The street serves as a symbol of controversy in Israeli society regarding the status of migrant workers and refugees in Israel. Everyday life on the street is complex and tense due to the neighborhood's heterogeneous nature and its diverse social and cultural fabric. The film portrays the hardships of the street's long-time residents on one hand, and the struggles of the refugees and migrant workers on the other. The encounter between the neighborhood's old-timers and new residents creates friction and a struggle between the sides over the character of the neighborhood. The film does not claim to offer a solution to the complex, tension-filled situation among the different populations on the street, but it offers an understanding that the street, with its diverse residents, is a normal part of the fabric of any major modern city today.

Perhaps the inescapable conclusion is that Neve Sha'anan street is doomed to be a street of refugees, a haven for people on the margins of society. Thus, the encounter with today's street residents momentarily places their stories at the center, offering a brief glimpse into the world of those whose voices are usually unheard.