The 2002 winner of nine Israeli Film Academy awards along with top prizes four other festivals (Jerusalem, Berlin, Tokyo, Palm Springs), Broken Wings (Knafayim Shvurot) is a rare contemporary Israeli film that doesn't deal specifically with the Palestinian situation. First time writer/director Nir Bergman paints more universal themes of grief and family dysfunction on his cinematic canvas, filling the screen with realistic characters that conquer viewers with their strength and humanity. Bergman need not concern himself that much with plot development when drawing such unforgettable personalities. On the surface Broken Wings structures itself like melodrama that predictably follows standard routes, but the richness of the details and human touches elevate the film above the mundane.

Opening with a slow pan over the Haifa rooftops until settling on singer Maya (Maya Maron) practicing a melancholy song for an upcoming battle of the bands gig, the film deftly unfolds the family dynamics. Maya is forced to cut out before the contest because her mother, Dafna (Orli Zilbershatz-Banai) is called to the hospital to work as a mid wife, and she can't locate a baby sitter. Maya angrily peddles home and mutters typical teen disgruntlement when she has to help jump start her mother's car. Obviously this isn't the first time her plans have been junked in favor of family obligations.

Nine months have passed since Maya's father unexpectedly died, wreaking emotional damage that none of them has completely overcome. Most affected is Dafna, who had gone into a virtual catatonic state for three months before emerging to begin fending for herself and providing a meager existence for her children, but without emotional support. She has nothing to give anymore, splitting her time between work and sleep. As eldest daughter, Maya has been forced to take on the role of surrogate mother for her younger siblings 6-year old Bahr (Eliana Magon), who demands attention and can't get home from school on her own, and 11-year old Ido (Daniel Magon), who has become churlish and is obsessed with jumping off a diving board into an empty pool.

More independent and only slightly younger than Maya, Yair (Nitai Gaviratz) has dropped girlfriend, basketball, and school to take a low-wage job handing out flyers on Haifa's public transport. He also provides the lighter moments with his extremely dry sense of humor, and nihilistic responses to taunts about whether he wants to grow up as a mouse (his work mascot uniform). A likeable young man, Yair may have internalized his grief more while outwardly appearing "normal" and even coming to the emotional rescue of others when he sees their pain, but he's not the kind of guy to spill his guts to strangers. Some people simply need space to work through their personal issues without intrusions. Gaviratz nails the moment when a patronizing school counselor lamely attempts a word association "game" by stoically maintaining his impenetrable shield. He reacts so natural that the scene plays like a documentary.

Gaviratz isn't the only actor deserving kudos, but equally shares honors with young Maya Maron and Zilbershatz-Banai, who is the only experienced "name" actor in the ensemble. The trio subtly communicates pain and grief without overdoing it and the director objectively allows each character to develop independently, making this dysfunctional family portrait an easy film to fall in love with. Location shooting and using a number of unknown actors hints at Israeli neo-realism, but the supporting cast all have a few acting credits on their resumes and are exceptionally suited for their roles. Most notable are the young brother-sister tandem of Daniel and Eliana Magon, and Vladamir Friedman as a sympathetic but clumsy doctor, who lends a lighter touch to the melancholy narrative.

On top of exceptional acting, Bergman's intelligent script and economical direction make this a rare non-political Israeli work that everyone can relate to. With enough honesty to please critical viewers and sufficient poignancy to bring tears in predictable fashion, Broken Wings has something for everyone—easy to see why it won a number of festival awards—a most impressive debut from a director to keep an eye on.